for fortune and glory a story of the soudan war by lewis hough ________________________________________________________________________ we were a little nervous to know how lewis hough got on writing a book with such a very different setting to his masterly "doctor jolliffe's boys." in fact the story opens in a boarding school (the british public school) called harton. this is probably meant to be a word based on "eton" and another school that has an annual cricket match with eton, called "harrow". in fact there is plenty of internal evidence that it really is eton, with the dropping of local slang terms only in use at that school. before i knew the story i was also nervous about the title. what could fortune possibly have to do with the soudan war? what actually happened was that a certain will had been stolen by a former employe, an egyptian, of a dublin solicitor, together with a previous version of the will. this had resulted in a family losing all their money, since the father had been a partner in an eastern bank that foundered in the events leading up to the soudan war. eventually the two wills are tracked down, and justice done as regards the estate. but all this is a parallel story to the description of events in the soudan war. this is well worth reading for its own sake, especially in this day and age, when certain events seem about to repeat themselves. nh ________________________________________________________________________ for fortune and glory a story of the soudan war by lewis hough a story of the soudan war. chapter one. a mysterious relative. it is nice to go home, even from harton, though we may be leaving all our sports behind us. it used to be specially nice in winter; but you young fellows are made so comfortable at school nowadays that you miss one great luxury of return to the domestic hearth. why, they tell me that the school-rooms at harton are _warmed_! and i know that the senate house at cambridge is when men are in for their winter examinations, so it is probable that the younger race is equally pampered; and if the present hartonians' teeth chatter at six o'clock lesson, consciousness of unprepared lessons is the cause, not cold. but you have harder head-work and fewer holidays than we had, so you are welcome to your warm school-rooms. i am not sure that you have the best of it: at any rate, we will cry quits. but the superior material comforts of home are but a small matter in the pleasure of going there after all. it is the affections centred in it which cause it to fill the first place in our hearts, "be it never so humble." harry forsyth was fond of harton; fond of football, which was in full swing; fond of his two chums, strachan and kavanagh. he rather liked his studies than otherwise, and, indeed, took a real pleasure in some classical authors--homer and horace, for example--as any lad who has turned sixteen who has brains, and is not absolutely idle, is likely to do. he was strong, active, popular; he had passed from the purgatorial state of fag to the elysium of fagger. but still his blood seemed turned to champagne, and his muscles to watch-springs, when the cab, which carried him and his portmanteau, passed through the gate into the drive which curved up to the door of holly lodge. for holly lodge contained his mother and trix, and the thought of meeting either of them after an absence of a school-term set his heart bounding, and his pulse throbbing, in a way he would not have owned to his best friends for the choice of bats in the best maker's shop. he loved his father also, but he did not know so much of him. he was a merchant, and his business had necessitated his living very much abroad, while cairo did not suit his wife's health. his visits to england were for some years but occasional, and did not always coincide with harry's holidays. two years previously, indeed, he had wound up his affairs, and settled permanently at home; but he was still a busy man--a director of the great transit bank, and interested in other things, which took him up to london every day. he was also fond of club-life and public dinners; and, though he was affectionate with his wife and children, too much of their society rather bored him. when she heard the cab-wheels crunching the gravel, beatrice forsyth ran out without a hat, and harry seeing her, opened the door and "quitted the vehicle while yet in motion," as the railway notices have it, whereby he nearly came a cropper, but recovered his balance, and was immediately fitted with a live necklace. beatrice was a slight, fair, blue-eyed, curly-haired girl of fifteen; so light and springy that her brother carried her, without an effort, to the hall steps, where, being set down, she sprang into the cab and began collecting the smaller packages, rug, umbrella, and other articles, inside it, while harry hugged his mother in the hall. "your father will be home by four," said mrs forsyth, when the first greetings and inquiries as to health were over. "and haroun alraschid has taken possession of his study," added trix, with a sort of awe. "haroun, how much?" asked harry. "don't be absurd, trix!" said mrs forsyth. "it is only your uncle, ralph burke." "burke, that was your name, mother; this uncle was your brother then?" "of course, harry. have you never heard me speak of your uncle ralph?" "now you mention it, yes, mother. but i had a sort of idea that he was dead." "so we thought him for some time," said mrs forsyth, "for he left the indian civil service, in which he had a good appointment, and disappeared for years. he met with disappointments, and had a sunstroke, and went to live with wild men in the desert, and, i believe, has taken up with some strange religious notions. in fact, i fear that he is not quite right in his head. but he talks sensibly about things too, and seems to wish to be kind. we were very fond of one another when we were children, and he seems to remember it in spite of all he has gone through." "i am frightened to death at him," said trix. "i know he has a large cupboard at home with the heads of all the wives he has decapitated hanging up in a row by the back hair!" "i wonder at your talking so foolishly, beatrice. you must not be prejudiced by what she says, harry. except your uncle in ireland, he has no other relatives, and he may be very well off; and he is quite harmless." "you know that you were afraid of him yourself, mamma, when he first came." "a little, perhaps, because i did not recognise him, and thought him dead. and then, you know, i fear he is not quite orthodox. but go and see him, harry, and never mind what any one says." "all right, mother; you have made me a bit curious, i confess," said harry, leaving the room. the garden in front of holly lodge was formal--just a carriage-drive, and a bit of shrubbery, and a grass-plat with prim beds on it, which had various flower eruptions at different periods of the year. first snowdrops, aconites, and crocuses, then tulips, then geraniums. the real garden was at the back, and the study looked out upon it. not upon the lawn, where bowls, or lawn-tennis, or other disturbing proceedings might be going on; no, from the oriel window, which alone lighted the room, one saw a fountain, a statue, rose-bushes, and a catalpa tree, enclosed in a fringe of foliage, syringa, lilac, laurel, chestnut, high and thick enough to make it as private and quiet as any man with a speech to prepare, or sums to do, might require. harry went along a passage, turned to the left up five steps, passed through a green-baize swing door, and knocked at that of the study. a deep musical voice, which seemed, however, to come from a strange distance, told him to "come in," and on opening the door, he found that he had to push aside a curtain hanging over it, and which had dulled the sound of the voice. smoke wreaths floated about the apartment, bearing an aromatic odour quite different from ordinary tobacco, and a curious gurgling sound, like that of water on the boil, only intermittent, came from the direction of the broad low sofa, which had been brought from the drawing-room, and was placed between the fire and the window. close to this was a small table with writing materials, a note-book, and a pile of letters ready for the post, upon it. on the sofa reclined a man dressed in a black frock-coat, buttoned, and dark trousers, the only oriental thing about him being the red cap with a silk tassel which he wore on his head. but smokers often have a fancy for wearing the fez, so there was nothing peculiar in that. and yet there was something different from other people about him. most men lounging on a sofa are ungainly and awkward-looking, while the attitude of this one was easy and graceful, and the motion of his hand, with which he indicated the chair on which he wished his nephew to be seated, was courteous and yet commanding. his complexion was sallow, and appeared the darker from the contrast afforded by the silvery whiteness of his long beard, moustache, and thick bushy eyebrows, from the deep cavities beneath which his dark eyes seemed literally to flash. his nose was aquiline, his cheek-bones prominent. his hands were small, but strong and nervous, with little flesh upon them, and the fingers were long and shapely. when harry was seated he resettled himself on the sofa, and, keeping his eyes fixed on the lad, placed the amber mouth-piece of a long spiral tube connected with a narghile which was smouldering on the floor to his lips, and the gurgling sound was once more produced. but to harry's astonishment, no cloud issued from his uncle's mouth; like a law-abiding factory chimney, he appeared to consume his own smoke. then, deliberately removing the amber tube which he held in his hand, he said-- "and you are my sister's son? i like your looks, and my heart yearns towards you. pity that she did not wed with one of her own land, so that you might not have had the blood of the accursed race in your veins. but it was the will of the all-powerful, and what can we avail against fate?" what these words meant harry could not imagine. were not his parents of the same land and race? his mother was irish and his father english, and he had no more idea of irish, scotch, welsh, or english being of different races than of the inhabitants of surrey and essex being so. they were all englishmen he had always thought. his bewilderment was by no means diminished when, after this speech, and without again putting the stem of his narghile near his mouth, his uncle raised his head and poured out a volume of smoke, which it would have taken the united efforts of a couple of germans about five minutes to produce. he was quite veiled by the cloud, through which the gleam of his eyes seemed to harry to have an almost supernatural effect. "you are nearly seventeen years of age, and will soon be leaving school," he resumed. "what are they going to do with you then?" "i have not quite made up my mind what profession i should like," said harry, somewhat hesitatingly. "i am fond of drawing, and like being out of doors, and so i have thought at times of getting articled to a civil engineer." "ay, ay; to aid the march of civilisation, as the cant phrase goes; to bring nations closer together, that they may cut one another's throats when they meet. to make machines do the work by which men earn their living, and so first drive them into cities, and then starve them. or, perhaps, you will be a lawyer, and learn how to darken language into obscure terms, by which a simple, honest man may be made to sell his birthright without knowing what he is doing. or a doctor, fighting madly against the decree of the omnipotent, daring to try to stem the flowing tide of death. if your eyes were but opened, how gladly would you cast off the trammels of an effete society, and follow me to a land where a man can breathe freely. i will give you a horse fleet as the wind, and a sword that would split a hair or sever an iron bar, boy!" "i have thought i should like the army, too, sir," said bewildered harry, trying vainly to understand, and catching at the sword and horse as something tangible. "the army! to be a european soldier! a living machine--the slave of slaves! to fight without a cause, even without an object! to waste your blood in the conquest of a country and the ruin and slaughter of its inhabitants, and then to leave it! madmen! ye kill and are killed for nothing; not even plunder." he drew several long inhalations, repeating the conjuring trick of swallowing the smoke and emitting it several seconds afterwards, for quite ten minutes before he spoke again. "but the ties of home and kindred are strong," he continued in a calmer tone. "your mother, your sister, will draw you back from the nobler lot. i know what the love of family is; i, who have returned to this seething cauldron of misery, vice, disease, and degradation which fools call civilisation, and take a pride in, in order to see my sister once more. partly for that at least. and you are her son, and you have the stamp of the burke upon your face. hark you, boy! in the time of cromwell, not two hundred and fifty years ago, your direct ancestor was a powerful irish chief, with large domains and many brave men to follow him to battle. when the english came with the cold-blooded, preconceived scheme of pacifying ireland once and for all by the wholesale massacre of the inhabitants, our grandsire was overpowered by numbers, betrayed, surprised, and driven to his last refuge, a castle but little capable of defence. he was surrounded; his wife and children were with him, all young, one an infant at the breast; and there were other women, helpless and homeless, who had sought shelter within the walls. therefore, resistance being quite hopeless, our chief offered to surrender. but the english leader replied, `give no quarter; they are wild beasts, not men. burn up the wasps' nest, maggots and all!' they did it; faggots were piled round the building and set on fire, and those who attempted to escape were received on the english spears and tossed back into the flames. the eldest son was away with a detachment at the time, and so escaped the fate which would otherwise have annihilated our race. but his estates were stolen from him and conferred on the murderers, whose descendants hold them to the present day. have the burkes best reason to love the english or to hate them?" harry forsyth was a practical youth, who took things as he found them, and he could not even understand how anybody's feelings, much less their actions, should be affected by anything which happened in the days of oliver cromwell. he might just as well refuse a penny to an italian organ-grinder, because julius caesar ill-treated the ancient britons. besides, he was half a forsyth, and the forsyths were probably all english. for all he knew, some old forsyth might have had a hand in burning up the burkes. he did not offer any such suggestion, however, but sat somewhat awe-stricken, wondering what this strange uncle would say or do next. he relapsed into thought, and for some time the silence was only broken by the bubbling of the water in the narghile. when at last he spoke again, it was in a calmer tone of voice, and with eyes withdrawn from his nephew's face. "serve not the english government, civil or military," he said. "or, if you do, confine yourself to your allotted task. that which is exactly due for the pay you receive, do for honour and honesty's sake. but do no more; show no zeal: above all, trust not to any sense of justice for reward of any work done in excess of the bargain. incur no responsibility, or you will be made a cat's-paw of. "listen. at the time of the crimean war a young man in the indian service had a severe illness which obliged him to return to england on furlough. at one of the stations where his ship touched a number of women and children and invalids belonging to a regiment which had gone on to the seat of war were taken on board, and he, according to previous arrangement, was placed in charge of them. "it came on to blow hard in the gulf of lyons, and the old transport strained so that she sprang a leak, which put her fires out. later on her masts went, and after beating about for several wretched days, she went ashore on a desolate part of the coast of spain. the officers and crew of the ship behaved well enough, and though many of them, including the captain and chief mate, were lost, nearly all the passengers were safely landed. but though rescued from the sea, there seemed to be every prospect of their perishing from exposure and famine. with great difficulty the officer in charge managed to find some rude shelter and insufficient food for immediate succour, and then, making his way to the nearest town, he applied to the authorities, and being a linguist who included something of the language in which don quixote was written amongst his acquisitions, he obtained clothes, food, and a sum of money for present necessities, with the promise of a vessel to transfer the unfortunates to gibraltar. "of course he had lost everything when the ship went to pieces, and he could only get this aid by signing bills and making himself personally responsible. true, he was engaging himself for more than he could perform, but he could neither desert these people who were entrusted to his care, nor stand idly by to see them perish. and he never doubted but that the authorities at home would take the responsibility off his hands. they refused to do so, or rather, worse than that, they drove him about from pillar to post, one official directing him to a second, the second to a third, the third to the first again. and they made him fill up forms, and returned them as incorrect, and broke his heart with subterfuges. "in the meantime he had to meet the claims, and was impoverished. then, excited by this infamous treatment, he forced his way into a great man's presence, and was violent, and the consequence of his violence was that he lost his indian appointment. it was well for him that he did so; but his story will none the less show you what a country england is to serve." again there was a long period of stillness, broken only by the hubble- bubble. gradually the smoker raised his eyes in the direction of his nephew, but harry saw that he was looking _beyond_ him, not at him. and this gaze became so steadfast and eager that he turned his head to see what attracted it, almost expecting to see a face on the other side of the window. there was nothing, but still the intense look remained, and it made harry feel as if cold water was running down his back. his uncle spoke at length, low and slowly at first, more energetically as he went on. "i see it; the crescent rises; the sordid hordes of the west fall in ruin around. the squalid denizens of cities find the fiendish devices of destruction to which they trust for putting the weak over the strong fail them. man to man they have to stand, and they fall like corn before the scythe." he dropped his pipe tube, and slowly rose to his feet, still gazing fixedly at nothing in particular in the same uncanny manner, and bringing his right-hand round towards his left hip, as if ready to grasp a sword-hilt. "one prophet," he continued, "was raised up for the destruction of idolatry, and wherever he appeared the false gods vanished. there were those who worshipped the true god, but received not his prophet, and with them islam has for centuries waged equal war, for their time was not yet come, and the mission of mohammed was not for them. but the years of probation have expired, and the nations of the west remain in wilful darkness. they receive not the commandments of the prophet; they drink fermented liquor, they eat the unclean beast, their worship of gold and science has become a real idolatry. another prophet has arisen for their destruction, and asia and africa shall, ere another generation has come and gone, be swept clean of the infidel. swept clean! swept clean! with the scimitar for a besom!" he remained with his eyes fixed and his lips parted, and harry did not quite know what to do next. but he summoned courage to rise and say that he hoped his father would have come home by now and as he had not seen him yet, he thought he would go. filial affection might surely be taken as a valid excuse for withdrawal. and yet, having had no experience of the etiquette due to prophets when the orgy of vaticination is upon them, he was not quite comfortable on the question of being scathed. there was no need for fear; sheikh burrachee was too rapt to heed his presence or absence. he heard not his voice, and knew not when he crossed the room and closed the door softly behind him. he found trix in the hall looking out for him. "well?" she cried. "oh, my prophetic uncle!" ejaculated harry. "that is a mis-quotation." "it is not a quotation at all; it is an exclamation, and a very natural one under the circumstances." "has he been telling your fortune?" asked beatrice, her large eyes expanding with the interest which is begotten of mystery. "not exactly," replied harry; "except that he hinted something about the propriety of my choosing the profession of a bedouin, and, i suppose, making a fortune by robbing caravans. but he told the misfortunes of other people with a vengeance. the mohammedans are going to turn the christians out of asia and africa everywhere." "good gracious, harry! why, papa's a director of the great transit bank, and all our money is in it, and it does all its business in the east." "by jove! let us hope the prophet _doesn't know_, then. but, upon my word, he looked like seeing into futurity. at least, i could not make out what else he was looking at." "poor man, he had a sunstroke when he was quite young in india, and has led a queer life amongst savages ever since. but papa has come home and been asking for you. you will find him in the drawing-room." harry thought his father thinner and older than when he had last seen him, and asked how he was in a more earnest and meaning manner than is customary in the conventional "how do you do?" "do i look altered?" asked mr forsyth, quickly. "oh, no, father, only a little pale; tired-looking, you know," said harry, rather hesitatingly, in spite of the effort made to speak carelessly. "i have not been quite the thing, and have seen a physician about it. only a little weakness about the heart, which affects the circulation. but do not mention it to your mother or sister; women are so easily frightened, and their serious faces would make me imagine myself seriously ill. well, how did you get on with your uncle? you see he has turned me out of my private den." "is he at all--a little--that is, a trifle cracked, father?" "a good deal, i should say. and yet he is a very clever man, and sensible enough at times, and upon some subjects. he was most useful to me out in egypt on several occasions when we happened to meet. a great traveller and a wonderful linguist." "was he badly treated by government? he told me a story in the third person, but i expect that he referred to himself all the time," said harry. "well," replied mr forsyth, "it is difficult to tell all the rights of the story. ever since he had an illness in india, as a very young man, he has been subject to delusions. no doubt he behaved well on the occasion of a certain shipwreck--if that is what you allude to--and incurred heavy expense, which ought to have been made up to him. but i doubt if he went the right way to work, and suspect that his failure was due very much to impatience and wrong-headedness, and the mixing up of political questions with his personal claims. he wrote a book, which made some noise, and caused him to lose his appointment. then he came to me in egypt, and was very useful. "i should have liked him for a partner, but he went off to discover the source of the nile. he thought he had succeeded, and after a disappearance of some years came back triumphant. but he had followed the blue nile instead of the real branch, and the discoveries of speke, grant, livingstone, and stanley were terribly bitter to him--drove him quite mad, i think. since then he has identified himself with the arab race, and seems to hate all europeans, except his sister and her family. with me he has never quarrelled, and i think remembers that i offered him a home and employment when his career was cut short. what he is in england for now i do not know. perhaps only to see your mother once more, but i suspect there is something else. "he writes many letters, and makes a point of posting them himself. i fear that he takes opium, or some drug of that kind, and altogether, though it is inhospitable perhaps to say so, it will be a relief when he is gone, and that will not be many days now." after leaving his uncle in such a rapt state, it was curious to harry to see him walk into the drawing-room before dinner in correct evening costume, and not wearing his fez. he was somewhat taciturn, ate very little, and drank nothing but water, but his manners were those of a perfect gentleman. after dinner he retired, and they saw no more of him that evening. harry forsyth had several other interviews with his uncle, who showed more fondness for his company than he had for that of any other member of the family, but who kept a greater guard over himself, and was more reticent than he had been on the occasion of his first interview. he spoke of eastern climes, war, sport, and scenery, with enthusiasm indeed, but rationally, and harry grew interested, and liked to hear him, though he never got over the feeling that there was something uncanny about him. one night, after dinner, when a fortnight of harry's holidays had elapsed, the uncle, on retiring, asked his nephew to come and see him in the study at eleven on the following morning, and harry, punctually complying, found him seated on a chair before the large table with three packets before him. "sit down, my lad," he said, and the deep musical tones of his voice had an affectionate sadness in them. "i am going back to my own land to-morrow, and shall never leave it again. but we shall meet, for such is the will of the all-powerful, unless the inward voice deceives me, as it has never hitherto done. you will, or let us say you _may_, need my aid. you will learn where and how to find the sheikh burrachee--which is my real name--from yusuff, the sword dealer, in the armourers' bazaar, at cairo. but you will more certainly do so by applying to the head dervish at the mosques of suakim, berber, or khartoum. at the last town, indeed, you will have no difficulty in learning where i am, and being conducted to me; and, indeed, in any considerable place above the second cataract of the nile, you will probably learn at the mosque how and where to obtain the required direction, even if they cannot give it you themselves. if there is hesitation, show the holy man this ring, and it will be removed at once. should you meet with hindrance in your journey from any desert tribe, ask to be led to the chief, and give him this parchment. he may not be an ally to help you, but he may, and if not, he will probably not hinder you. lastly, take these three stones, and see that you keep them securely in a safe place, and that no one knows that you possess them. they are sapphires of some value i exact no promise, but i bid you not to part with these for any purpose but that of coming to me. for that, sell them. should you hear of my death, or should ten years elapse without your coming to me, they are yours to do what you like with. lest you should forget any part of my directions, i have written them on a paper which is at the bottom of the box containing the sapphires. come." harry rose and stood by his side. his uncle fitted the ring on his fore-finger, put the morocco box containing the sapphires, and the thin silver case, like a lady's large-sized card-case, that protected the written document, into his breast pocket, and then rising himself, rested his two hands on the lad's shoulders, and gazed long and earnestly into his face. then turning his eyes upwards, he muttered a prayer in arabic, after which he gently drew him to the door, and, releasing him, opened it, and said, "farewell." chapter two. mr. richard burke visits his lawyer. mrs forsyth had another brother, named richard, living in ireland. when ralph burke--the sheikh burrachee of to-day--was in trouble, and lost his indian appointment, he went to his brother, whom he had not met since boyhood, and who welcomed him at first cordially. but ralph, possessed by the one idea of injury received from the government, engaged in seditious plots, and nearly involved his host in serious trouble. the brothers quarrelled about it, and ralph left in anger, and never afterwards mentioned his brother's name. probably he did not know at present whether he was dead or alive. but alive he was, though in failing health. he was the eldest of the family, ten years senior to ralph, and seventeen to his sister, mrs forsyth. in spite of ralph's story about oliver cromwell, the elder brother had some land, though whether it was part of the original estates, or had been acquired since, i know not. he had no tenants, but farmed himself, and was therefore not shot at. the farming consisted principally, however, in breeding horses, in which he was very successful. it was not that he realised such large profits, or grew rich rapidly, but he always made more than he spent in the course of the year, and invested the balance judiciously. and in twenty years hundreds grow to thousands in that way. rather late in life mr burke had married a widow with a son, an only child. he lost her early, and, having no children of his own, attached himself to her boy for her sake, and made a will leaving him sole heir to his property, after a legacy had been paid to his sister, mrs forsyth, and a provision of pounds a year made for reginald kavanagh, an orphan cousin for whom richard burke had stood godfather, and was now educating at his own expense, the boy spending all his holidays with him in ireland, and becoming a greater favourite with him as time went on. for his step-son, stephen philipson, had disappointed him grievously, developing idle, dissipated, and extravagant habits as he grew into manhood. mr burke bore with him for some years, hoping that he would sow his wild oats and reform. but instead of this, he became worse and worse, till at last it was evident that he would make the worst possible use of any money which came to him. and then mr burke had an accident in the hunting field, and, while he lay between life and death, his step-son behaved and spoke in a heartless and ungrateful manner, which was reported to him on his unexpected recovery; and in his indignation he determined to take a step which he had for some time contemplated. for, though he was able to get about again, he felt that he had received injuries which would bring him to the grave before very long, and that he would never be the man he had been. and, indeed, when pressed, his doctor did not deny that he had reason for his conclusion. so as soon as he was strong enough to get about, he wrote to secure a room at the hotel he used in dublin, and took the train to that city. and the next day called upon his solicitor, mr burrows, of the firm of burrows and fagan. mr burrows, a sleek little man, particular about his dress, and as proud of his small hands and feet as a cat is of her fur, was waiting for him in his private room. "i am going to alter my will," said mr burke. "exactly," said the lawyer, with a slight shrug of the shoulders, which intimated that he was not at all surprised. "i have drawn up a rough copy of what i want put into legal terms; it is very short and simple; we can get it done to-day, can we not?" "certainly, i expect so. let me see what you wish," replied mr burrows, taking the sheet of note-paper. now, do not skip, reader, if you please. if you do you will either have to turn back again from a more interesting chapter, or you will fail to follow the thread of my story. i promise not to bore you with legal terms; only read straight on, as mr burrows did. "i revoke my former will. i now leave to two trustees as much money as will yield pounds a year to be paid monthly to stephen philipson, the son of my late wife by a former husband. my land to be sold, and that, with the rest of my property, to be equally divided between my sister, mary forsyth, or her heirs, and reginald kavanagh." "not long, certainly, as you have put it," said mr burrows, with a smile. "but here is land to be sold, and other descriptions of property to be entered correctly. can you not give us till the day after to- morrow? if not, i will send the will to you, and you can sign it, and get it witnessed at home." "no, no; i had sooner remain in dublin, and get the thing off my mind at once. the day after to-morrow, then, at this time." "it will be all ready by then." as he passed through the outer office, the head clerk came from his desk, smiling and bowing obsequiously. he was a young man of dark complexion, and black hair, worn rather long. "ah, daireh, how do you do?" said mr burke with a nod, but not offering to shake hands, as the other evidently expected. daireh was an egyptian _protege_ of mr forsyth, who had employed him as a boy-clerk, brought him to england with him, and placed him in a lawyer's office. he was clever, sharp, and a most useful servant; and, entering the employ of messrs burrows and fagan, had ingratiated himself with both of them, so that he was trusted to an extraordinary degree. he professed great gratitude to mr burke, as the brother-in-law of his benefactor, and as having spoken for him when he was seeking his present engagement. but mr burke did not like the look of him. he was prejudiced, however, against all foreigners, especially greeks and egyptians, so that his dislike did not go for much. but certainly an acute physiognomist would have said that daireh looked sly. mr burke had friends to call on, and business to transact, so the delay did not really matter to him; and he called at the lawyer's office again at the appointed time, daireh, bowing obsequiously as usual, ushering him into mr burrows' private room. "well, we have put your good english into what you profanely call legal jargon," said that gentleman. "just listen, and try to understand your own directions while i read them over." it was all plain enough, and short enough, in spite of mr burrows' little joke, and then mr burke put his mouth to a speaking-tube, and called daireh to come and witness the document. then there was some signing, and the new will was consigned to the tin box bearing the name of richard burke, esquire, upon it. "better destroy the old one," said he. "certainly," replied mr burrows. "throw it behind the fire, daireh." then daireh did a curious thing. he took another parchment, exactly like the old will, out of his breast coat pocket, and managed, unperceived, to exchange it for the document; so that the object which mr burke and the lawyer watched curling, blazing, sputtering, till it was consumed, was not the old will at all, but a spoilt skin of some other matter, and the old will was lying snugly in daireh's pocket. what motive could he have? what earthly use could this old will be, when one of more recent date lay in that tin box? daireh could not have answered the question. he kept it on the off-chance of being able to make something out of it. he was a thorough rogue, though not found out yet, and he knew that stephen philipson, who had just been disinherited, was both rogue and fool. so he carried off the now valueless document, which would not eat or drink, he reckoned, and might be put to some purpose some day. mr burke returned home and wrote to his sister, and to stephen philipson, telling them what he had done. he did not write about it to reginald kavanagh, not thinking it necessary to take from him any inducement to exert himself, for though he was a good-enough lad in most respects, he certainly was not studious. he was also accused by his schoolfellows of what they called "putting on a good deal of swagger," a weakness not likely to be improved by the knowledge of his godfather's kind intentions towards him. so that altogether mr richard burke was, perhaps, judicious. chapter three. from gay to grave. tea was a comfortable meal at harton in the winter half of the year, when the boys had fires in their rooms, at least, for social fellows who clubbed together. not but what it is cosy to linger over the meal with a book in your hand, or propped up, as you sit alone at the corner of the table, half turned to the hearth. but forsyth, strachan, and kavanagh liked to mess together, and strachan's room being the largest of the three, they selected that to have their breakfast and tea in. all their cups, saucers, and so on, were kept in a cupboard in that room, but toasting or such other light cookery as their fags performed for them was done in their respective apartments, for the avoidance of overcrowding and dispute amongst the operators. also, when bloaters, sprats, or sausages were in question, it was well not to feed in the room in which the smell of preparation was most powerful. though the half was drawing to its close, the evening board was bountifully spread; for forsyth's birthday had come off two days before, and brought with it a token from home--a wicker token which the lord mayor himself would not have despised. there was a ham, succulent and tender; a tongue, fresh, not tinned, boiled, not stewed, of most eloquent silence; a packet of sausages, a jar of marmalade, and, most delicious of all, some potted shrimps. harry knew, but did not tell, that every one of those shrimps had been stripped of its shell by the hands of trix, who plumed herself, with unquestionable justice, upon her shrimp-potting. unfathomable is the depth of female devotion; fancy any one being able to skin a shrimp, prawn, or walnut, and not eat it! the shrimps, the sausages, were gone, the tongue was silent for ever, but the ham and the marmalade remained. the three friends were the oldest boys in the house, and almost in the school. two of them, strachan and kavanagh, were to leave at the end of the half, and forsyth was to do so after the next. "where's kavanagh?" said the latter, coming into the room and sitting down by the fire. "at his tutor's," said strachan; "he is bound to be in directly. let the tea brew a bit longer." "it's uncommonly cold this evening; going to snow, i think. i hate snow in february; there is no chance of real frost for skating, and it spoils the football. oh, here's kavanagh." the youth named strolled deliberately in at the moment, sat down at the table, and began to shave off a slice of ham. "has the cold wind made you hungry, or has the effort to understand that chorus in euripides exhausted you?" "i never try to understand what i firmly believe to have no meaning whatever," drawled kavanagh; "and i am never hungry. i consider it bad form to be hungry; it shows that a fellow does not eat often enough. now the distinguishing mark of a gentleman is that he has too many meals a day ever to feel hungry." "i see; then you are only carving the ham for us." "that does not exactly follow. never jump to conclusions. a fire may not actually require coals, yet you may put some on to keep it going; so it is with a gentleman's stomach. you may take ham to appease hunger, or you may take it to prevent the obtrusion of that vulgar sensation. not that i object to helping you fellows. the carving of ham is an art, a fourpenny piece representing the maximum of thickness which the lean should obtain. with a carving-knife and fork this ideal is not too easy of attainment, but with these small blunt tools it requires a first-rate workman to approach it. now this slice, which i sacrifice on the altar of friendship, is, i regret to say, fully as thick as a shilling." at this moment a little boy, kavanagh's fag, came into the room bearing a muffin on a toasting-fork. "devereux!" said kavanagh, severely, "do you know what louis the fourteenth of france said when his carriage drew up, as he stepped outside his front door?" "no." "he said, `i almost had to wait!' now i, too, say to you that my tea is poured out, my ham cut, and i almost had to wait. not quite, happily not quite, or the consequences to you would have been--terrible!" the little boy did not look very frightened, in spite of the tone in which the last word was uttered. kavanagh had never been known wilfully to hurt anything weaker than himself in his life. as he was tall and strong, this is saying a great deal. the two other fags grinned; one of them filled up the tea-pot, and then strachan said "go!" and all three lower boys vanished in a twinkling to prepare their own teas. "we shall not have many more teas together," said forsyth. "no, but we may dinners," replied strachan. "suppose we all get into the same regiment." "the job is to get into any regiment at all," said kavanagh. "there is that abominable examination to be got over. awfully clever and hard reading fellows get beaten in it every time, i can tell you." "well, but i believe it is easier through the militia than direct into sandhurst, is it not? and that is the way you and i are going to try. at any rate, then we can go into the same militia regiment, and that will give us two trainings, besides preliminary drills, and so forth, to have some fun together. and forsyth must come in too." "i have not quite made up my mind to go into the army, or rather to try for it, at all yet," said forsyth. "it seems such a waste of time to sap for it, and then be sold after all. i can never do half so well as i fairly ought in an examination, because i take so long to remember things i know quite well, even if i have plenty of time to think them out. i can learn, but i can't cram, so i fear i should never be in it." "oh, have a shy, man; it is only going in for something else if you fail. and there is no life like the army if you succeed." "if we fail, we fail. `but screw your courage to the sticking-place, and we'll not fail,'" quoted kavanagh. "well, it is very tempting; perhaps i shall try," said forsyth. "look here, then," said strachan, "there are two vacancies amongst the sub-lieutenants in the fourth battalion of the blankshire, and my father is a friend of the colonel. i am to have one, and i have no doubt you, kavanagh, will get the other. there is almost sure to be another vacancy before the next training, and if there is, don't you think your friends would let you leave harton at once, and take it? then you could serve one training this year, and another next year, and be ready to go in for the competitive at the same time that we do." "thanks, old fellow," said forsyth. "i will talk it over with my people when i go home at easter, and will let you know as quickly as i can." "that is settled then. oh, we won't say good-bye yet awhile." "it is a strange thing," said kavanagh, who, having finished his tea, had tilted his chair so that his back leaned against the wall, while his feet rested on another chair, less for the comfort of the position, than to afford him an opportunity of admiring his well-cut trousers, his striped socks, and his dandy shoes; "it is a strange thing that there should only be one career fit for a fellow to follow, and that it should be impossible for a fellow to get into it." "it sounds rather like a sweeping assertion that, doesn't it?" observed strachan, who was helping himself to marmalade. "that is because you do not grasp the meaning which i attach to the word _fellow_. i do not allude to the ordinary mortal, who might be a lawyer, or a parson, or a painter, or fiddler, or anything, and who might get any number of marks in an examination. i mean by fellows, the higher order of beings, who are only worth consideration; i do not define them, because that is impossible; you must know, or you mustn't know, according to your belonging to them or not. anyhow, there they are, and everything and everybody else is only of value so far as he, she, or it is conducive to their comfort and well-being. for them the army is the only fit profession, and only a few of them can get enough marks to enter it." "am i one of these extra superfines?" asked strachan. "you may be, perhaps, if you don't eat too much marmalade." "come, you are pretty fond of jam yourself, kavanagh," cried forsyth. "well, yes; we all have our little weaknesses." "that reminds me," said strachan, turning round and poking the fire. "our school career is drawing to a close, and i have never made my confession. i committed a crime last november which i have never owned, which no one suspects, but which weighs, whenever i think of it, on my conscience." "unburden," said kavanagh. "well, then, you may remember that the weather was very mild up to the seventh of the month." "don't; but grant it. go ahead." "on the eighth of november it grew suddenly colder, and i got out my winter things, and in the afternoon i changed. having done so, i put my pencil in the right-hand waistcoat pocket. there was something round and hard there--a lozenge? no, a shilling, which had remained there ever since i changed my winter clothes in the spring. now at that time we were reduced to anchovy paste for breakfast, and our bare rations for tea. money was spent, tick was scarce, stores were exhausted. faithful to a friendship which has all things in common. i went out to dell's and bought a pot of apricot jam for tea, the time for which had arrived. as ill-luck would have it, both you fellows were detained at something or another--french, i rather think. i had to go to my tutor myself at seven, so i could not wait, and began my tea alone. well, the jam was good, very good, hanged good; i never ate such jam! had i had quite a third of it? not quite, perhaps; i gave myself the benefit of the doubt. but, then, the gap looked awful. happy thought! i would turn it out into a saucer, and you might take it for a sixpenny pot. after all, not expecting any, you would be pleased with that. but it looked rather more than a sixpenny pot, so i had a bit more to reduce. and then--you would not come, and you knew nothing about it. why make two bites of a cherry? i finished it, threw the pot out of window, and held my tongue. but oh! next day, when kavanagh received his weekly allowance, and laid it out in treacle and sprats for the public good, i did indeed feel guilty." "but you ate the sprats and treacle all the same, i expect." "i did. i would not shirk my punishment, and flinch from the coals of fire which were heaped on my head. i even enjoyed them. but my conscience has been very sore, and feels better now than it has done for a long time." "you have not got absolution yet," said forsyth. "not by long chalks," cried kavanagh. "jam! and apricot of all jams. if you really want to wipe out the crime you must make restitution." "gladly; but would not that be difficult?" "not at all; you can do it in kind. at compound interest three pots will clear you, i should say; or, if it don't run to that, say two." "two will do," echoed forsyth. "who's that at the door?" "it's me," said a youth--dressed in a chocolate coat with brass buttons--entering the room. "oh, happy josiah!" exclaimed kavanagh; "careless of rules, and allowing your nominative and accusative cases to wander about at their own sweet will; what pangs would be yours at mid-day to-morrow if you were a scholar instead of a page, and said `_hominem sum_,' or uttered any other equivalent to your late remark! shades of valpy and arnold--`it's me!'" "mr wheeler wants to see you at once," said josiah, not listening to the criticism on his grammar, and addressing forsyth. "my tutor wants to see me? what on earth about, i wonder?" obviously, the best way to satisfy his curiosity on this head was to go at once, and this he did. mr wheeler sat at the paper-laden desk in his private study, under the brilliant light of a lamp with a green glass shade over it. there was no other light in the room, which was consequently in shadow, while the tutor was in a flood of illumination. "sit down, forsyth," he said. "i am sorry to say i have bad news for you from home." "my mother!" "no, no, my boy; bad enough, but not so bad as that. there are money losses. your father was connected with a bank, and it has been unfortunate. it seems that it was a great shock to him, and he was not in very good health. you may have known that?" "yes, sir, yes. i noticed that he looked ill when i went home at christmas." "to be sure--yes. then you will not be surprised at this sudden blow having affected him very seriously?" harry could not take it all in at once; he had to sit silent awhile, and let the meaning of his tutor's words sink in. at length he asked--"is he dead?" and the sound of his own voice uttering the word made him give a sob. "no," said mr wheeler; "he is very ill, and insensible, but living, and while there is life there is hope, you know. people often recover from fits, and this seems to be an attack of that nature. but it is as well that you should go home at once. put a few things together, and you will catch the : train. a fly and your travelling money shall be ready by the time you are." "thank you, sir," said harry, and went back to his dame's house in a dazed state. strachan and kavanagh heard him come upstairs, and as he went straight to his own room they followed him. "well, have you got the medal for alcaics?" asked strachan, for they had concluded that that was the news his tutor had for him. but seeing his friend's face he stopped short. "something the matter, old fellow, i am afraid," he said. "bad news from home?" "yes," said harry, in a voice he just kept from faltering. "i must go home to-night; my father is ill." "i am awfully sorry," said strachan, uncomfortably, wanting to do something to aid or cheer his friend, and unable to think what. kavanagh made no remark, but, seeing at a glance how the land lay, took a candle to the box-room, caught up a travelling bag belonging to forsyth, and brought it down to him just as he was going to call josiah to find it for him. it was not long before he got some things into it, and was ready to start. a grip of the hand from each of his friends and he was gone. what a bad time he had during that short journey; feverishly impatient, and yet dreading to get to the end of it. it was an express train, and he got to london in an hour, and was just in time for another on the short line to his home. so he reached holly lodge by eleven. before he could ring the door opened. trix was listening for the wheels, and ran to let him in. she had been crying, but was very quiet. "he is alive, but cannot see or hear," she said. "come." his mother was there, and two doctors, who looked very grave. one soon left, but the other, who was the regular medical attendant and a friend, remained, not, as he plainly said, that he could do anything for the sick man, who was dying. and in the course of the night he passed away without regaining consciousness. but there is no good in dwelling upon that, or on the gloom of the next few weeks. poor mr forsyth had a heart disease, and when the great transit bank came to final smash, the agitation killed him then and there. for he was quite ruined. it was not only the money he had invested in the bank which was gone, but, as a large shareholder, he was responsible for the enormous sums due to those who had dealt with the bank. harry thought at first that they were penniless, and wondered almost in despair how he should be able to support his mother and sister. for he had learned no trade, he was not a skilled artisan, and mere manual labour and clerk-work are, he knew, very poorly paid. but when mrs forsyth had recovered sufficiently from the first shock of her grief to grapple with the cares of every-day life, she showed him that it was not so bad as he had feared. "there is my five thousand pounds," she said--"my very own, which i had before marriage, and which is secured to me. two hundred and fifty pounds a year i get from it, and it has always been a little pocket- money which i had, without going to your dear father for every penny. and now we must manage to live upon it." of course they had to go into a very small house, and could not take the whole of that. and harry did not go back to harton, but began to try at once for immediate employment which might bring some little grist to the mill. and he was more fortunate than young fellows generally are when starting on that heart-breaking search, for he had something to go upon. he went straight to the london representative of the egyptian house of business with which his father had been connected, told his story, and asked for employment. "but your father was bought out fully, and you have no claim on us, you know," said the merchant. "i make no claim, sir," replied harry; "i ask a favour. i don't know why you should employ me more than anybody else, but still i thought the connection might interest you. my father had a hand in establishing the business, and i had a hope that that might weigh with you, if you have found it a good one." "well, you have had a hard trial, and it is to your credit that you want to go to work at once instead of sitting down in despair. the worst of it is that you have been educated at harton, and can know nothing of what is useful in an office. what sort of hand do you write?" "a shocking bad one, i fear, but any one can read it. and i am not so very bad at figures. and i am ready to learn. won't you give me a chance, and pay me nothing till i am useful?" "there is one thing, at any rate, you have learned at harton," said the other, with a smile, "and that is to speak up boldly, and to speak out plainly. i was a friend of your poor father's, and shall be glad to help you, since you are reasonable and see matters in their right light. but you must not expect much." so harry was taken into the office as a clerk just for a month on trial. and he showed so much zeal and intelligence that he was taken into regular employment at the end of it, and received a five-pound note for his work during the time of probation. and the joy and triumph with which he brought home this, the first money he had ever earned, to his mother and sister in the evening, cheered them all up in a manner to which they had been strangers since ruin and death had fallen upon the household. many castles did they build in the air that evening, but they were not extravagant, their highest present ambition being to have the whole cottage, which was but eight-roomed, to themselves, and to keep two maids instead of one. and this, if harry's salary rose to a hundred and fifty, they thought they might manage. of course it was a dreary life for him after what he had been accustomed to, but he made the best of it, and really interested himself in egyptian trade, till he became a connoisseur in gum. his principal recreation was shooting at the wimbledon butts on saturday afternoons, he having joined a volunteer corps for that purpose. he had done so at harton, and was the best shot there. he now had to compete with the best in the world, but he had a marvellous eye, and up to three hundred yards could hold his own with anybody. at any rate he won enough in prizes to pay all his expenses, and a little over. even when their resources looked lowest, he never thought of selling the sapphires his mysterious uncle had given him. he did not look upon them as his own till the ten years were up, or to be used for any purpose but that of going to find him. they, together with the silver case containing the parchment and the ring, were locked up in his old- fashioned, brass-bound desk which he kept in his bedroom. nobody, not even trix, knew anything about them. that was the one secret the brother and sister did not share. beatrice was disrespectful to her mohammedan relative, and always called him uncle renegade till harry read byron's "siege of corinth" aloud one evening. after that she called him uncle alp. but harry forsyth was destined to go to egypt without needing his uncle. he became more and more trusted by the firm which employed him, and at last it was determined to send him out to the house at cairo on important business. his absence was a desolation for mrs forsyth and beatrice; but it meant money for one thing, and, what was far more important in the mother's estimation, it was a change for harry from the gloomy monotony of a london office. as for the future she was under no concern. she knew of richard burke's will, and that her children at all events would be comfortably provided for by it, though she herself might not outlive her elder brother. harry, as he was actually going to the country to which his uncle had prophesied he would, took to wearing his ring, and carried the silver case in an inner waistcoat pocket. the sapphires he left in his desk. chapter four. "ways that are dark and tricks that are vain." while the forsyth family was passing through its time of trial there had been other chops and changes going on in the lives of those with whom their fortunes were more or less connected. mr richard burke had still further declined in health, and could not be expected to last long; but what was unexpected by those who knew them both was that he outlived his legal adviser, mr burrows, who was attacked with pleurisy, which carried him off soon after he had made mr richard burke's last will. his son came into his place, but he was a mild and not very intelligent young man, not long out of his articles, and very dependent upon daireh, who knew all the details of his father's clients' business, and was so deferential and obsequious, that he made him think very often that he had originated the course of conduct which the wily egyptian had suggested. as for the other partner, fagan, he confined himself entirely, as he always had done, to the criminal and political part of the business. daireh was a bachelor, living in lodgings, and might have saved money to a reasonable extent in a modest way. but he was anything but modest in his desire for wealth, and the law would have given a very ugly name to some of the transactions by which he sought to acquire it if they had but come to light. one february afternoon he left the office rather earlier than usual, and after a hurried dinner repaired to his lodgings, where he mixed himself a strong glass of whisky. then he took a flask of glass and leather with a metal cup fitting to the bottom, and, unlocking a bureau, took out of a drawer a small phial. he listened; went to the door--opened it, and looked out on the staircase; shut it again, locked it, and returned to the bureau. his hand shook so that he took another pull at his grog, and then uncorking the phial he poured the contents into the flask, filled it up with whisky, screwed the top on, and put it into his pocket. then he went out once more, and bent his steps to a railway station, where he took a ticket to a small country place about an hour's ride from dublin. it was growing dark when he arrived, but there was a moon, and the sky was fairly clear from clouds. he walked for a mile along the road, and then turned off by a path which crossed a moor, and pursued this until he came within sight of a small disused quarry, from which all the valuable stone had been long ago carried. as daireh approached the place he clapped his hands three times, and a man came out of the shadow into the moonlight. "stebbings, is that you?" said daireh. "yes, it is," replied the other, sulkily. "no thanks to you for having to skulk like a fox. as i told you in my letter, the police are after me, and if i cannot get out of the country i'm done." "what made you come to ireland, then? it would have been just as easy to have shipped abroad." "because i wanted to see you, for i couldn't trust you to send me a farthing." "how was it? you must have managed very badly." "the numbers of those bonds were known, though you were so sure they could not be, and they are advertised, and traced to having passed through my hands. that is certain to bring it out that i passed the forged cheque, too. bad management yourself! however, there's no good in blaming one another. have you got the two hundred?" "it is a large sum; but still, if it will get you out of your scrape, i will make the sacrifice. only--" "get _me_ out of my scrape! if i am taken, my fine fellow, you will be taken too." "why, what good would it do you to pull me in with you?" asked daireh. "you know precious well. if all the facts came out i should get about two years, and you fourteen at least. you actually took the bonds; you forged the cheque. i was only your tool, employed to cash the things." "and am i to have you sucking me like a leech all my life?" cried daireh in a shrill voice, stamping his foot. "that is as it may be; you must take your chance of that. perhaps you had sooner i gave myself up and told the whole story. i am not sure that it would not be the best thing for me to do." "that is nonsense. here is the money. you know how to get to south america, you said." "ay, i know. if the police have not tracked me here; and i think i have given them the slip," said stebbings, counting the notes before putting them away. "now the sooner you are off the better." "it is a chilly night," said daireh, producing his flask, "and i am going to have a sup of whisky. will you have a drop?" "don't mind if i do," replied stebbings. and the egyptian filled the metal cup and handed it to him. "here's better luck," he said, taking a mouthful. then suddenly he spat it out again. "no, hang me, if i will trust you!" he cried. "and there is a queer taste about it, too!" "what nonsense!" said daireh, forcing a laugh. "it is good whisky, very good; i had a glass just before i left. well, good-night, for all your bad suspicions." and daireh walked quickly away in the direction of the road which led to the station. when he was well hidden from the quarry he poured away the rest of what was in the flask. "if he had but swallowed it," he muttered fiercely between his teeth, "i should have been two hundred pounds richer, and safe!" when he went to the office in the morning, one of the under clerks told him that mr burke was dead, and mr burrows was wanted to go over as soon as he could. "all right," said daireh, "i will tell him when he comes. where are those papers about the ballyhoonish estates? in his private room, i think." he passed in, and without hesitation took out a pass key which unlocked a drawer where all the keys of the deed boxes were. selecting that belonging to the burke box, he opened it; took out the will, put it in his pocket; locked, and replaced the box; put the keys back in the drawer, and locked _that_, and walked out with the documents he had spoken of under his arm. it had not taken him more than three minutes to do the whole thing. his plan was this. he had now both wills in his possession. he did not exactly know where stephen philipson was to be found, but he was sure to turn up now, and he would make terms with him for destroying the second will and producing the first, which was in his favour. but he would not destroy the second will, but keep it to extort more money out of him with it. also, if philipson were to die--and his habits were such that he was not likely to be long lived--he would find out mary forsyth or reginald kavanagh, the persons interested, and see what they would give for the document, the loss of which had disinherited them. when mr burrows came in and received the news of mr burke's death, his first idea was to open the deed box bearing his name, to see if there was a will there. finding none, he called daireh, and asked him if he knew of any such document. yes, daireh said, he did; he had witnessed one not so many months ago. he fancied mr burke had taken it away with him, but he was not sure. it might be well to look in the deed box. mr burrows had already done that? ah, then, no doubt mr burke _had_ taken it. had made another since, very likely; he believed mr burke was constantly altering his mind about the disposal of his property. but no doubt mr burrows would find a will among the papers at the house. but mr burrows didn't, and daireh, as he went home that evening, bought a large piece of oil silk, in which he afterwards wrapped each of the two wills separately. then he spent a considerable portion of the evening in making two large pockets inside a new waistcoat, one on each side, between the lining and the cloth, and each of these was to contain a will. stephen philipson heard of his step-father's death, and soon appeared at the office to know if the old man had really been as good, or bad, as his word, and cut him off with a mere allowance. he asked to see daireh, with whom he had had a good many transactions. "that was a real will, was it?" he asked. "real enough. i witnessed it." "but it cannot be found, i hear." "oh, it will turn up at the funeral, never fear." "i wish it might not." "why?" "because then, by the old will, i should come in for the lot." "but if the old will is not forthcoming, or the new one, or any other, the property devolves to the heir-at-law, ralph burke, and you will not even get your allowance." philipson, whose nervous system was considerably shattered, was so affected by this consideration, that daireh thought it better to revive him with a dram of hope. "if i can see you privately, without fear of interruption, i may be able to give you a useful hint," he said. "the funeral takes place on saturday, and if nothing is heard of a will then i will meet you next day. where are you staying?" philipson gave his present address and left, thinking to himself as he walked up the street-- "i wonder what bit of roguery that scoundrel is up to now? if he has got anything good for me i shall have to pay rarely for it. well, i am in too bad a way to care much for that; but he shall not bring me within the reach of the law. i have no fancy for going to jail, where there's no liquor to be got--not likely. none of that, mr nigger. if he will take the risk i will pay the piper, and that is a fair enough division, i think. but i wonder what his little game is!" but daireh never made that sunday call on philipson. for on saturday evening he heard a cry in the streets--"important arrest! great bond robbery! scandalous disclosures!" he invested a penny in the evening paper, and carried it up to his room. his fears were verified. it was stebbings who had been arrested. he had thought much about what he would do in such a case, and kept his wits about him. of course, the "scandalous disclosures" heading was premature--inserted, indeed, to give a fillip to the sale of the paper. but the disclosures would certainly come very soon, and there was no time to be lost. he destroyed a good many letters and papers; stowed all his money, and documents which meant money, about his person; packed a small valise which he could carry in his hand, and started for the station. he crossed the channel that night, and got to liverpool early on the following morning. he knew--so carefully had he laid his plans--that there was a trading vessel, with accommodation for two or three passengers, which was advertised to start from the port of liverpool for trieste that afternoon, and he would be unusually unlucky if he could not get a passage in her. he found, indeed, no difficulty about that, and might go on board at once if he liked. before he did so, however, he had a good meal on shore, and wrote a letter to mr burrows regretting that he was forced to absent himself, without leave, from the office. and then, his imagination warming as he sat pen in hand, he told how his poor father, a stranger, speaking little english, had arrived in london, and been there seized with a serious illness; that he had not received the news till the night before, and had started at once to see that his aged parent received proper attention. when the letter was finished, he went to the railway station and found a guard, whom he asked whether he was going to london that night. the guard said he was. "then i wish you would do me a favour," said daireh. "a lady--a friend of mine--wants to send a valentine to a man in ireland, and is anxious to mystify him. she has got me to direct it, and would like it to have the london post-mark. will you drop it in for her?" he tendered the letter and a shilling, which the guard took with a grin and an "all right, sir," and the foxy egyptian walked back to the quay, having done his best to put the police on a wrong scent when the revelations of stebbings should set them trying to track him. at the same time he felt that he was taking needless trouble, making assurance doubly sure; for, once at home in alexandria, for which place he was bound, he would be safe enough. or, if there were any fear, he had only to go up the nile to berber, where he had relatives, and what detective dare follow him there, or dare touch him even if he did? a more anxious consideration was--how to make any profit out of the wills which he had stolen. to treat for their restitution, or even for that of the last and true one, would be a very ticklish operation indeed. i think it is really the worst part about rogues that they are so utterly selfish, and regardless of the misery they inflict upon other people, even when they cannot benefit themselves by it. if daireh had had an ounce of good nature in his composition, he would have torn up the old will and sent back the new one, now there was so poor a chance of his making money out of his scheme. but that idea never even occurred to him. i am glad to say, however, that he had a bad voyage, and suffered much from sea-sickness. chapter five. in passing. the fierce sun was declining towards the west, and it was becoming possible to breathe and move about with a little more comfort on board the somewhat cumbrous vessel, fitted with huge lateen sails, which went swinging down the nile between the lofty black rocks near samneh. i say _fitted_ with the sails, not borne along by them, for the stream just there took all the carrying power upon itself, rushing along its narrowed channel like a mill race. high above rose a hill, on the top of which was a temple, entire, with a balcony round it, heedless of the lapse of ages. there is some little difference between the ancient and modern ideas of substantial building. they had no ninety-nine year leases in the time of the pharaohs; if there were such things at all, nine thousand would probably be nearer the mark. harry forsyth sat on the deck admiring the different points as they went by, and delighting in the glorious pace at which they were going; a great contrast to their sluggish progress earlier in the day, when the river was broad, placid, and leisurely, and there was hardly a breath of wind stirring to urge them on. he had been entrusted with a trading expedition as far as dongola, carrying merchandise and exchanging it for gum, and ostrich and marabout feathers. he had been allowed a little venture on his own account, and had embarked it all in the latter article of commerce--marabout feathers--and had been rather lucky in his bargain. on returning to cairo he expected to go back to england, and that made him none the less glad to be spinning along so quickly. "i wish we could go like this all the way, hassib," he said to the nubian sitting by him; "we should soon get home then, eh?" "we shall go faster than this when we come to the cataract," said hassib, with a grin; for there was a joke here. harry on the way up had not shown any liking for the cataracts. in fact, had preferred, under pretence of shooting doves, to walk round while the operation of towing the vessel up took place. he and hassib conversed in a queer lingo, for harry was trying his hardest to learn arabic, but had to eke it out at present with a good many english and french words. hassib had a smattering of both those languages, and after a little practice they got on glibly enough. but i am sure you will pardon my translating the palaver between this supercargo and the reis or captain of the boat. the reis was the proper companion for harry, being a respectable fellow, and wearing some clothes. harry himself was dressed in a linen suit of european cut, with a tarboosh or red cap on his head, with a turban twisted round it. not elegant, but sovereign against sunstroke they told him. "i wish i could get a crocodile," he said. "every day we get lower down the river there is less chance." "plenty of them yet. there is an island near where we stop to-night where there are always many crocodiles." "and do you think that i shall get one?" hassib thought a bit over this, and then replied gravely-- "if it is the will of allah that you should get a crocodile, you will get a crocodile. if it is not the will of allah that you should get a crocodile, you will not get a crocodile." there was no gainsaying this. mohammedan races are fond of propounding truisms with an air of having evolved a new idea out of their unassisted brains, and that is why people often think them so very wise. "you see," said harry, after bowing his head in assent to the last proposition, "i promised my mother a crocodile, and it seems so absurd to go up the nile and not be able to get one. then they are all white, and i expected them to be black." "white men call the devil and crocodiles black; black men call them white," replied hassib, who was a wag. "you now see which is right." "good again; that is one for me!" laughed harry. "but i should really like to get one if i could." "and the english think the crocodile such a pretty ornament!" said hassib. "it is a strange taste." and then harry thought for the first time where on earth would they put the crocodile if they got it. but that was a future consideration. "shall we shoot the cataract to-night?" he asked, presently. "no," said hassib, "there will not be light enough. we shall anchor for the night soon, and start at daybreak." the river soon grew broader and calmer, and in half an hour they came to the place where they were to remain, and cast anchor. harry went ashore with his rifle, in hopes of a shot at the amphibious creatures, and his fishing tackle to keep him in patience while he was waiting for it. hassib accompanied him to point out the place he had mentioned where the monsters were wont to lie. for some time he got neither a shot nor a bite; but presently there came a tremendous tug at his line. the fish tugged, and harry tugged, and the line being strong enough to hold a whale nearly, it seemed to be a question whether harry pulled the fish out, or the fish pulled harry in. in fact it was a regular tug of war. harry was the victor, and his opponent came to bank with a bound and flop. "by jove! i have got a crocodile after all!" cried harry, jumping back, as a hideous thing four feet long, and having the same number of legs, and a tail, seemed making towards him. the reis, laughing in a manner most contrary to our notions of the staid impassive arab, began hammering the creature with a stick, until it lay quiet enough. "what is it?" asked the captor, approaching cautiously. "a big lizard," replied hassib, "so your learned white men say; `alligator lizard' i heard one call it. but it is really a thing that comes out of an addled crocodile's egg." harry looked up quickly, but the reis was perfectly grave. and on such occasions he always pretended to believe, whether he did or no. hassib was quite confident of the correctness of his information, and how could it be disproved, or, for that matter, why should it be? the sun was now very low on the horizon, and would soon take its sand- bath. hassib laid his hand on forsyth's arm and ducked behind a mound on the edge of the bank. harry did the same. "one, two, five, seven," counted hassib. harry peeped, and saw that mystic number of grey crocodiles lying on the island where he had been looking for them. the nearest was about two hundred yards off. by stalking him along the bank, as he was not quite opposite, he got perhaps thirty yards nearer. as has been said, he was a really first-rate rifle-shot, and the prospects of that crocodile could not be considered rosy. scales are hard, but so are conical bullets. harry took a steady aim at what he had been taught to consider the most vulnerable part get-at- able, and pulled. crack! smack! he heard the ball tell as plainly as if it were on an iron target. but the absurd crocodile acted as all the others he had shot at had done: he rolled over into the water and disappeared, and the other six kept him company. "he is killed! oh, he is killed!" cried the reis, much excited. "he will float soon, you will see. when they are shot dead their bodies soon float." whether this creature was an exception, or was not shot dead, or was carried down to the cataract before he got to the floating stage, and so came up where no one wanted him, cannot be said. but they saw him no more, and he was numbered among the partridges who have gone away to die, and the rabbits that were hit so hard, but crept away into holes! going back to where the boat lay they found another lying near her, which had been dragged up the last bit of the cataract and brought up so far since their arrival, while the crew had gone ashore and lit a fire, round which they were gathered. forsyth and hassib went up to them for news, but there was not much. alexandria was being rebuilt after the bombardment; arabi's insurrection was quite over, and mohammed tewfik pasha firmly established. the english soldiers were leaving, and the country would soon be quit of them entirely. "not it," said one of the new-comers, who seemed to be a passenger. certainly not a sailor, for his hands were delicate, and he lacked manliness when compared with the others of the party. "the english will not be so easy to get rid of, make sure of that." and one of the others said to hassib, alluding to the speaker-- "you knew his father; this is daireh." "and i knew him as a boy," said hassib. "it is years since i left," said daireh. here reouf the pilot joined the group, and he, too, was a friend of the family, and was made known. harry forsyth, seeing that old acquaintances had met after an absence, kept in the background, and lit his pipe. he listened indeed, but simply to try what words of arabic, in which the conversation was being held, he could pick up, not from any interest or curiosity which he felt in the subject of their talk. "quite a boy when you went to england," said reouf; "and yet i think i can recognise you. do you remember you went in my diabeheeh from berber home to alexandria?" "have you been to berber lately? are my people there well?" "i was there less than a year ago, and all was well with them. you are journeying there now?" said reouf. "i am," replied daireh. "i returned from the land of exile to visit my home, hoping to share my hard-earned gains with my own people, when what did i find? ruins in the place of my home, my family dispersed, my father slain by the english." "not so," said hassib. "i heard of the misfortune; but it was by the hand of arabi's soldiers that he fell; not that of the english. arabi's soldiers, or plunderers who called themselves such. the english sailors caught them red-handed, and hung them up for it then and there." "may their graves be defiled, whoever they were," said daireh. "i have no friends now except at berber." harry made out a good deal of this, and his heart bled for the egyptian, coming back as he thought to a home, to find nothing but desolation, and to be driven out again from his native land. for there is nothing in common between the egyptian and the nubian but religion. the former race affects to despise the latter, and the latter really despises the former. and with reason. so when he rose to go back to his diabeheeh (nile boat), he bade him good-night in english, and expressed regret for the grievous disappointment and sorrow he had experienced. and daireh said of course it was a great affliction, but he hoped to make a new home in the soudan. and so they parted, courteously enough. the diabeheeh daireh was travelling by had sustained some injury from a sharp rock during the process of being hauled up the cataract, and the crew were going to remain where they were for the purpose of repairs. so when a sudden red flush burst on the eastern horizon, and spread and deepened till it seemed as if a large city was on fire, and hassib, recognising this as the dawn, began kicking his lazy sailors into wakefulness, the down-stream boat was the only one which made preparations for a start. by the time the anchor was up and the sails hoisted, however, there was some movement on board the other diabeheeh, and parting greetings were exchanged. harry forsyth, seeing the man who had excited his compassion the night before on deck, waved his hand to him and shouted good-bye! and the other returned the salutation. and the local pilot for the second cataract took the helm, and the vessel entered the boiling waters, and was whirled in apparent helplessness, though really guided with great skill amidst innumerable rocks, any one of which would have crushed her like an egg-shell. and harry, in the excitement and anxiety of the passage, forgot all about the casual traveller from whom he had just parted. little did he dream that that man carried in his breast the document upon which his fortune depended, and the obtaining of which would establish his mother and sister in comfort, besides changing all the future prospects of his old friend kavanagh. and daireh, had he but known that the englishman he had just parted from was harry forsyth, what a lucky opportunity he would have esteemed it for making a bargain, and securing at least some profit out of what threatened to be the barren crime he had committed. for though it was not to be expected that the poor clerk and agent should have command of sufficient funds to pay even the more moderate ransom which he was now prepared to accept, he had formed all his plans for eventually securing it. something of course would have to be trusted to the pledged word of the man with whom he treated, but though he had no scruples about breaking his word, or his oath, indeed, for that matter, himself, he knew well that other people had, and had before traded, not without success, on what he considered a foolish weakness. but the chance was gone both for the robber and the robbed. they had met, and not known it, and now their paths diverged more widely every minute. is there any truth in the notion of people having presentiments? whether or no, certainly forsyth had none, for he was only too eager to get back to cairo. and the boat went well, though not fast enough for his impatience, making a quick trip of it. his employers were well satisfied with the result of their venture, and harry himself made as much as he expected out of his marabout feathers. shortly afterwards, as had been arranged, he sailed for england, and had a warm greeting from his mother and trix, though he did not bring the promised crocodile. and then he learned that his uncle, richard burke, was dead, and that his will had mysteriously disappeared, as well as the confidential clerk of the dublin solicitors who had charge of it, who was therefore supposed to have taken it. "we would not write to you about it," said mrs forsyth, "because you were on your way home, and the will might have been found in the interim. but it hasn't." chapter six. in farnham park. church parade was over, and quiet reigned in the camp of the fourth battalion blankshire regiment, which was undergoing its annual training at aldershot. a young man in civilian clothes sat at breakfast in the officers' mess- tent. he was a visitor and guest, who had no obligation to early rising, so he lay snug till the band, marching the church of englanders off at nine o'clock, roused him and then performed a leisurely toilet. and now he, the subaltern of the day, and the officer who was to take the roman catholics, had the tent to themselves. the former was some distance off, the latter sat next to him. "i came only just in time for mess yesterday, so we had no opportunity for a private chat," said the one in plain clothes. "but i have a lot to say to you." "well, look here," replied the other, "my parade is at eleven; the dress bugle has just gone for it. i shall be back by half-past twelve. then we will have lunch and go for a walk, you, i, and strachan, if you like." "i should like it very much, though how you can expect me to eat lunch after such a breakfast as this at such a late hour, i cannot imagine." "oh, the air here is wonderful for the appetite. not like london and egypt, which seem to be your haunts." "and the unaccountable disappearance of this will of uncle richard's, kavanagh, has it put you in a very big hole?" "not just yet. the dear old man felt himself failing, and thought he might forget me as weeks went on. so, instead of sending a quarterly cheque, he paid my allowance for the whole year into the agent's hands. so kind and thoughtful of him, was it not? but for the future, of course, it will be rather awkward for me if the will does not turn up. i go in directly after the training for the competitive examination, and so does strachan. we have both passed the preliminary, and shall have served our two trainings. well, if i pass, it will be hard enough to live on my pay, but i must get into the indian or gold coast services, and try it that way. if i don't succeed, why then i have no idea what to do next. at least, i have an idea, but there is no need to think it out till the necessity comes." "what do you think of your chance?" "well, my coach thinks it doubtful. he has known fellows get their commissions who were worse up than i am, and he has known fellows fail who were better up than i am. it depends on the lot of competitors, and also on their quality, and a little bit on luck. there is a good bit of luck in having the questions you have crammed set, you know." "i can imagine there must be. and how about strachan?" "well, if he has not got a good bit in hand, i am not in it, that's all. he could give me a hundred marks and a beating. however, i fancy that he must be safe. but there is the fall-in; i must be off." as kavanagh left the tent strachan came into it. "well, old fellow, and how did you sleep?" he asked. "not badly," said forsyth. "i fancy? should have been still at it but for that big drum of yours." "hush! it is lucky the colonel is not here. never speak of the big drum in that irreverent tone to him, i pray. it would well-nigh give him a fit. the big drum is his fetish, though he nearly smashed it himself last year." "how was that?" "we were out on the queen's birthday, and had to fire a _feu de joie_. rattle up the front rank, rattle down the rear rank, three times, you know. the horses hate it, and the chief had a young one who did not like ordinary firing very well, though he had got him in hand for that. but the roll was too much for the gee's nerves; he went wild with terror, bolted slap through the band, and finally reared up till he rolled over. it looked as if the colonel was under him, and those who went to help thought him smashed. but he got up, and said, with a face of intense anxiety-- "`is the big drum safe?' but, i say, how jolly it is to meet you again, old fellow. don't you remember that last evening at harton, we said we were sure to meet, we three; and here we are, you see. but, i say, this is a bad story for kavanagh about this will being missing, is it not? bad for you, too, though. your mother was in it, was she not?" "yes; but as the testator's sister she will come in for something, probably, anyhow. true, it is mostly land, and i believe an uncle abroad will inherit that. but i don't know the legal rights of the matter yet quite. anyhow, she has something of her own, and i have learned how to get work and earn my bread by it. so all round it is worse for kavanagh. what is his chance of passing?" "not very good, i fear," said strachan. "i don't feel safe, and i have read more than he has. and he is such a good fellow! he was awfully sorry about mr burke's death, but made no trouble whatever of the missing will. that is, of course, he thought the prospect of being penniless a great bore, but he never got into low spirits, or worried others about it. and with his tastes and ideas, too!" "yes," said harry; "fellows at harton used to think him a tremendous swell. and those who did not know him were apt to take a prejudice against him. `lady kavanagh' some called him, you remember. but we must have a long talk, we three, for my time is short; i must go back to-morrow. kavanagh proposed a walk after lunch." "certainly, if you like. we generally walk over to farnham on a fine sunday afternoon: where the bishop's palace is." "i know. i have often heard of farnham, and should like to see it," said harry. and others coming in, the conversation became general. then lunch time arrived, and was on the table very punctually, though harry did not want anything. but with the majority, who had breakfasted before eight, it was different. kavanagh came in ready dressed for the walk, and expressed impatience at strachan being still in uniform. "i have got to pay my company," explained strachan; "but i shall do it directly the dinners are over, and then it won't take me five minutes to change." and he was as good as his word, for by a quarter to two he was ready to start. it was a fine afternoon and a pretty walk; round the end of the long valley by cocked hat wood, skirting the steeple-chase course; through shady lanes to the wild furze-clad common land; up the sides of the hill range, where the old roman encampments can still be clearly traced. "this one looks precious modern," said harry, doubtfully. "oh, the engineers may have been digging about a bit. and this certainly is a modern shelter trench. there are battles fought here, you know, whenever the generals are too lazy to go as far as the fox hills," said strachan, irreverently. "but look at the view. over there to the left, where you see the queer- shaped black wood, is sir walter scott's novel--what's his name: the first one and the least interesting; at least, i could never get through it." "waverley," said kavanagh. "don't expose your ignorance and want of taste, strachan. you could not see the abbey if we went there, forsyth, or else i should have proposed it. but the grass is not cut yet, and till it is no one may go to the ruins. that is farnham park below us. yonder is the hog's back." a pretty road led them down to the park paling, which they skirted till they came to a ladder stile, which they crossed into the park, close to the solid old-world walls and towers of the bishop's castle. "what splendid trees!" cried harry, as the three old friends settled themselves comfortably under one of them. "i don't know when i have seen such beeches." "very condescending of you to admire anything in england, such a traveller as you have been," said strachan. "and you have been to egypt? i envy you; i have always longed to see egypt." "there are more unlikely things than that when you are in the line. things are not settled there yet." "why, arabi's insurrection is completely quelled, and he is a prisoner. and the government will have nothing to do with the soudan business, they say." "who is _they_? one set of _theys_ say so, and another set of _theys_ say we can't help having to do with it, let the quakers say what they will. for my part, i hope all will be quiet," said forsyth. "quiet!" cried strachan. "why, if there is no war there will be fewer vacancies, and i am less likely to get my commission in the line!" "modest youth! so you want some tens of thousands of fellow-creatures to be slaughtered, palms and fruit-trees to be destroyed, and a whole country made desolate and miserable for years, and millions upon millions of pounds drained from the british tax-payer, in order that you may get your commission with a little less trouble! you remind me of the reasonable prayer in the poem-- "`oh, gods! annihilate both time and space to make two lovers happy.'" "oh, bother! i don't look so deep into things as that," said strachan; "i can't declare a war, and i would not take the responsibility if i could; but if it comes and does me good, i can't help liking it. it is like winning a wager--i am sorry the other chap should lose, but i am consoled by the reflection that i win." "exactly," said harry; "and i strongly expect that i should lose by any disturbance in the soudan, and that kavanagh would too. it is a long story; but you are such an old friend that it won't bore you, strachan, though it does not concern you personally. you both know all about the will and its mysterious disappearance, so i need not recapitulate that. well, i have been to ireland and seen the lawyers--burrows and fagan. i could not make much of burrows, who is a duffer; but fagan has his wits about. he had never had to do with that branch of the business, but now the credit of the firm was at stake he busied himself in making searching and pertinent inquiry. a sharpish boy-clerk was certain that the will was left at the office, and kept in the burke deed box in the late mr burrows' time; and, when closely pressed and questioned, the present burrows recalled having seen it there since he came into the partnership. then the question arose--who could profit by its disappearance? the answer was, if a former will were in existence, philipson--my uncle's son-in-law, who was his original heir--would. but the old will is not forthcoming either, and philipson is done both ways, for he neither gets the property left him by the first will, nor the allowance secured to him by the second. indeed, he is barely existing on small sums advanced him by a speculative solicitor on the chance of one of the wills turning up. i saw a lot of philipson: such a jolly nose--like a big red truffle. he said he was certain the late head clerk--a chap of egyptian or arab extraction, named daireh--had got the will, or wills, having abstracted them after my uncle's death, because he had hinted at being able to tell him how to find them, and had appointed the sunday to meet him, but had failed to keep tryst, and had disappeared. all this had to be wormed out of philipson, who spoke very reluctantly at first. and i suspect he is as big a rascal as the other, and was in a plot with him to destroy will number , and prove will number , only the other would not trust him, but wanted money down. the reason he did not keep his appointment is evident, for the police wanted him for forgery about a fortnight later, and of course he had found out that he was discovered, and made tracks at once without waiting to come to terms with philipson. the police have tried to track him everywhere without hitting on a ghost of a clue beyond london, from which place a letter was sent to his employers. but i know the direction in which to look for him." "you do?" cried kavanagh, much interested. "yes. the ugly beggar was vain, and liked being photographed, so there were lots of his likenesses extant. i was certain i knew the face from the first, and i soon was able to associate it with that of a fellow i passed on the nile just above the second cataract. he was going up, and i was coming down, and i did not see very much of him; but i would swear to his ugly face anywhere." "and you heard where he was going?" asked strachan. "yes, to berber. and i know natives who know him, so i have a good chance of tracking him; and if he don't produce the will he shall eat stick." "let him eat a little stick, as you poetically call it, even if he _does_ produce the will. i think a hundred on his feet, or any suitable portion of his person, might have a good moral influence upon him," said kavanagh. "oh, to have the handling of the bamboo!" "we have got to catch the beggar first," said harry. "and are you going after him really?" said kavanagh. "or are you only chaffing? it seems a wild goose chase." "yes, i am going," said harry; "and i think better of our chances than you seem to do. in the first place, i have picked up a smattering of arabic, and that is a help; and then i have friends who can give me recommendations to the egyptian authorities in any town which is held for the khedive on the upper nile, and i am pretty confident i can make them help me." "but suppose this fellow has not got the will, or has destroyed it, or has hidden it somewhere, and won't tell?" "that would be hard lines for you, kavanagh, and i hope better things. but even in that case it would not follow that my journey would be useless to myself. i have got a crazy uncle, a brother of uncle richard, who is heir-at-law if a will is not forthcoming. he has turned mohammedan, and lives like an arab, and i believe has considerable authority amongst them. he was in england the last christmas we were at harton, and i saw him in the holidays, and he gave me directions how to find him if ever i wanted, for he took a fancy to me, and wanted me to go and live as he does. with all his eccentricity, he has a strong love for his sister--that is my mother, you know--and if he could be told that his brother was dead, and that he had made a will in his sister's favour which had been stolen, by which means he had become heir to the irish property, i am convinced he would try to do something to set matters straight. anyhow, it is worth trying." "rather!" said kavanagh. "and if the country is in insurrection, and barred against egyptians and european travellers, your relative's pass may enable you to get at master cream--butter--what's his name?" "daireh." "ah, yes; i knew it had something to do with a dairy--to get at him, after all." "by jove, what an enterprising chap you are, forsyth!" cried strachan. "you deserve to succeed, i am sure." "he does; and i heartily hope he will, for if he does not find the will, i shall have to forego all the comforts of life, at least, all i know of, for i daresay i shall find others. now periwinkles may be a comfort, but what i shudder at is the idea of dirty linen. not to have a clean shirt every day! it is quite too awful to think of. i am sure i wish you speedy and complete success, and that you may eat salt with the arabs, and put some on daireh's tail. that is how the nubians catch their prisoners, strachan." "and when do you start?" asked strachan, a great deal too much interested to listen to kavanagh's nonsense. "on wednesday," replied harry, "that is why i cannot stop to-morrow to benefit by your hospitality. i must go in the morning pretty early." "i'm off to berber early in the morning, i'm off to berber, a little while to stay," chanted the incorrigible kavanagh, getting on to his feet. "catchee dairy, or no catchee dairy, forsyth has got to see the old town of farnham, and walk home by road, and get there comfortably for dinner. so come on. i am sure forsyth must want to rest his tongue a bit and give his eyes a turn." they left the park, and went down into the town by the steps beneath the palace; and so through the broad street with the restored houses, the bank and others, the inhabitants of which ought to wear coifs and pinners, knickerbockers and doublets, and where tall black hats should be unknown; then into the main street, past the workhouse, which has a letter-box soliciting books and newspapers for the amusement of the paupers, and so back to camp. each of the three recalled that sunday walk often and often in after years, with a pleasure which those who have formed school friendships, and met those they had "conned" with after several, yet not too many, years' absence, will understand. they talked no more of forsyth's adventurous journey, or the imminent examination lowering over strachan and kavanagh. no, the future was banished from their thoughts, which were full of the past. their talk, indeed, on the way home, would have been a terrible infliction upon an outsider, had one been of the company. "i say, do you remember baum major?" "rather." "don't you remember when he thought he was sent up for good, and he wasn't, and his face when he found out that old williams had smelt his jacket of tobacco smoke?" "i remember!" and then a roar of laughter, the joke being only known to the three, but needing no further elucidation for them. for every period of every public school has its jokes, which are no jokes to any human being unconnected with that time and place, but to those who are so connected are a subject of life-long enjoyment. when they got back to camp each felt that one of the happiest days of his life was drawing to a close. at mess that evening the adjutant announced that the commander-in-chief was coming down next morning, and there would be a field day on the fox hills. they were to be brigaded at half-past five, so the "fall-in" would be at five. "we are sure to be back about one," said strachan to harry later in the evening. "you can wait till then, and have lunch." "no, thank you," said harry; "i have a lot to do before i start, and cannot spare another day. besides, it would not be fair to my mother. i should have gone off early in the morning anyhow; not so early, indeed, as you march, but by nine; so it makes no difference in my plans, you see." "well, we shall breakfast at four; there is no need for you to disturb yourself then. get up at your own time, and order what you like, you know." "thanks, you may trust me," said harry. "but i shall see you off." those overnight resolutions do not always find fulfilment in the morning. but when the companies were told off and equalised, and only waiting for the adjutant to call out the markers and form the parade, harry forsyth emerged from the spare tent kept for guests, and went to the reverse flank to give his two old chums a final hand-grip. then the colonel appeared and mounted his horse, and they had to fall in. and the band struck up, and the battalion trickled away, till the rear company was clear of the ground, and harry found himself alone. "poor old kavanagh!" he murmured. "strachan does not matter half so much. if he gets spun he has two more chances; and if he fails to get into the line, then his friends have money and interest to start him in something else. but kavanagh can't stop on in the militia, or pay a tutor another six months, and it is neck or nothing with him. if i find the will it will put him square; but what is he to do till then?" ruminating in this way, harry returned to his tent and lay down again for a couple of hours. then he tubbed and dressed, and had a comfortable breakfast all by himself; for he was too experienced a traveller by this to let melancholy partings spoil his appetite. he was in town by eleven, getting what was wanted to complete his modest outfit, and at the sheen cottage with his mother and sister in time for their early dinner. they were a thoroughly happy trio, for whatever interested one of them became at once equally interesting to the others, and so harry could have his talk out about the friends he had just parted from without fear of boring any one. it was a great sorrow to mrs forsyth that her son should be going back to egypt so soon. she had hoped that the anxiety she had suffered during his former absence was at an end, at least, for some considerable time. "if his constitution were but settled," she said, "i should not so much mind; but he is not quite nineteen yet." and beatrice tried to be cheerful, and make light of it, but she was sorely disappointed also. chapter seven. a very long paper-chase. it was not without very careful consideration that harry forsyth had determined to sacrifice his immediate salary, if not his prospects of success in the commercial line for ever, in order to track daireh, and obtain the abstracted will. on learning the whole story on his return to england, he had indeed at once thought that that was the best thing to be done, but had not been hasty in settling to do it. his first act was to go to dublin; his next to tell the whole story to mr williams, the head of the house which employed him in london, and he somewhat reluctantly fell in with his views, his hesitation arising principally from harry's youth. "you are very young," he said, "but you have proved that you have a head on your shoulders; and if your mother and sister have enough to support them, and you possess funds for the journey, i cannot dissuade you from the attempt. if you fail, come back to us, and we will see if we cannot give you employment again. and even if you succeed you had better not lead an idle life, and need not sever all connection with us. at any rate, i will do what i can by letters of introduction to aid you." harry thanked mr williams heartily, and that gentleman was better than his word, for, besides the letters, he gave him charge of some goods which had to be sent out to cairo, by which he not only got a free passage, but salary up to the date of his arrival out. under the circumstances, and considering the object of his present visit to egypt, harry had no hesitation in selling the amethysts given to him by his uncle ralph, or the sheikh burrachee. for he fully intended to seek him, if he could not find daireh, a matter which he felt to be extremely problematical. without the sale of these jewels he could not attempt the rescue of the will at all. he was surprised at their value, for he got more for them than he expected, and it seemed a great risk to have left them in the secret drawer of his desk all this time. you may be sure he did not forget the signet-ring and the thin silver case, these being taken with him as before. the trip to cairo was uneventful, and he passed the time in improving his arabic, by the aid of a grammar, dictionary, and koran. as soon as he had delivered his cargo, and called upon the member of the firm who resided out there, who was as kind and cordial as mr williams, he started up the nile. the traveller who does that, proposing to do more than visit a pyramid or two, requires a good deal of patience; and so would a reader if the ordinary routine of travel were to be recorded. suffice it then to say that harry voyaged up the nile to korosko, and there joined a caravan across the desert to abu hamed, from which place he got passage again on board a diabeheeh, which carried him to berber. with what excitement he beheld the white houses, the minarets, the palm- trees, grow nearer and nearer! within those walls, as he hoped, daireh was living. if so, and he could find him, and get the will, the object of his journey would be accomplished. for he had laid his plans. armed with a letter he had got for the governor, he would find no difficulty in having his man seized unexpectedly before he would have time to make away with the document, and there was little doubt means would be found to make him give it up. confidence, which had fluctuated, revived at the sight of the place, and when at length he was landed, harry walked through the bazaars, expecting every man he met to be the one he was in search of. after many disappointments he recognised himself for an idiot, and calmed down. how should he set to work in a methodical manner?--that was the point. the letter to the pasha denounced daireh as a criminal, and therefore if he employed his officers to make search for him the fact might get about, and daireh, hearing of it, might hide, escape, or at any rate get rid of all incriminatory documents. it was more prudent, perhaps, to pretend to have business with him, and make inquiry in the bazaars. the one advantage of the tedium of his journey was that harry had acquired much more fluency by constant practice in speaking the language. the dress he had selected was not one to attract attention; he had modelled it on that of a greek merchant who was continually trading with the interior. he wore full pantaloons, a loose sort of jacket, with a shawl bound round the waist, and his head was protected by a tarboosh, with a turban wrapped round it. but though his clothes did not look european, the pistol stuck in his shawl belt was of the best, strongest, and most hard-hitting type. old- fashioned, indeed, so far that it was not breech-loading; for he had considered that if he lost his cartridges, or spent them, his weapon would become a useless lump of iron, whereas percussion caps, powder, and lead, are procurable almost everywhere. he went to the stall of a man who sold filigree work, and at his invitation squatted down and had a pipe and a cup of coffee, while he asked the price of several things. that was very well, but when he began to inquire about the object of his search, the shopkeeper lost all interest in the conversation. he tried a money-changer with better success; he knew daireh, but had not seen him for months. more he could not say. after many more failures harry turned into a coffee-house, to sit down and rest, and have a glass of sherbet and enjoy a smoke. while resting in the comparative cool portico where he was served, a barber came and offered his services, and harry, suddenly remembering how the barber in the "arabian nights' entertainments" always knew everybody, thought he would try his luck with him. "i have come all the way from cairo," he said, in reply to a bit of characteristic curiosity, "and my business is with one daireh, who should reside here; for the last time our house transacted business with him he was here." "he was here but six moons back. and he came from the land of the english to his cousin, who lived here. if you have dealings with daireh, i know your business,"--and here the barber looked inexpressibly cunning--"gordon pasha spoilt that trade; but since he has gone there is good profit to be made. and what are the pagans fit for but slaves, sons of pigs that they are? but they tell me there will be fine times when the mahdi rules. not that i know, but while i shave heads the tongues wag and i listen. it is nothing to me. mahdi or khedive, what do i care! all want to be shaved." "to be sure," said harry; "the wise man has the same opinion as his customer. and where has the family moved to?" "they moved to khartoum when trade grew better, and you will find them there if allah wills." how long he would have gone on talking it is impossible to conjecture, had it not been that a customer entered his stall, which was on the opposite side of the street, and he shuffled off to attend to him, for which harry, who had got all the information he required, was by no means sorry. his one great desire now was to get away. to be so close, to find the form of the hare almost warm, and yet to be just too late, was very trying to his patience. it was all very well to say to himself that he had only two hundred miles farther to go; and after travelling more than a thousand from cairo, let alone the journey out from england, what were two hundred miles? but the answer he made himself was that two hundred miles was a great distance, and there was the sixth cataract. he had forced himself to be cool--mentally, of course, bodily coolness was quite out of the question--all the way along, with looking upon berber as the end of his voyage. and here he had to go on another two hundred miles, and up another tedious cataract. it was very disheartening. however, there was no help for it; so he went at once down to the quay, and began inquiries about boats going up. luck here turned in his favour, for there was one starting next day, and he engaged a passage by it. and what was still more fortunate, the next day was friday, and so there was not any likelihood of the delay which is so charming to the nubian sailor mind. for friday is their lucky day, and they would not miss the chance of commencing any undertaking upon it on any account. now we account friday an unlucky day (or used to do so). so either we or the soudanese must be utterly wrong--radically wrong. which is it, i wonder? the dreary business commenced again on the morrow. a fair breeze, and sailing; a foul one or a calm, and rowing; running on banks, and pushing off; getting nearly wrecked half a dozen times in the rapids, and escaping. and so they progressed until at length the mighty river divided into two streams, that to the left the blue nile, that to the right the white, and the real nile, and they found at the junction the city of khartoum, dazzling in the glare of the sunshine, with the governor's house and the mosque rising above the flat roofs. opposite the city, and on the west side of the nile, there were a number of tents visible, and harry asked the reis what place that was. "that is um durma, where the camp is," he replied. "and what is the camp for? it seems a very large one." "yes, o traveller, it is large! seven thousand foot soldiers, a thousand of them that fight on horseback; many cannon, many camels to carry powder, shot, provisions, water; thousands of those who fight not themselves, but load and lead the baggage camels, sell things to the soldiers, and live upon the camp. in all a large encampment, and must cost the khedive much money." "who commands the force, and what is it collected for?" asked harry. "hicks pasha commands it; he is an englishman, and his principal officers are also english; the men are egyptians and bashi-bazooks." the reis paused. he was a soudanese; and a smile played over his face as he added, "they are going to do wonderful things; to take el obeid back again, to destroy the soudan army, take the mahdi, and carry him to cairo in a cage, i believe. oh! but they are great warriors, and the mahdi's days are numbered." "is el obeid in the mahdi's hands, then?" asked harry; for the last time he had heard news of that part of the country it had been still held by the egyptians; and mahomet achmet, or the mahdi, as he professed himself to be, had been repulsed with such heavy loss when he attacked it as to oblige him to sheer off, this being his first defeat. but he had returned in the january of that year, and taken the place after a fortnight's siege. "yes," said the sarcastic reis; "he holds it just for the present, till the warriors of hicks pasha find it convenient to walk across and take it from him." after the disappointment at berber, harry did not feel the same confidence in finding his man that he had previously done. he began to be disheartened, and to think luck was against him; and to settle the matter quickly was a more important matter than ever it had been. if el obeid was taken by the mahdi, the insurrection of the soudanese against the egyptian yoke must be a very serious thing, and the country would be in a disturbed state for a long time, so that the nile route would be closed against travellers, and passage across the desert to the sea would be equally difficult. if then he caught his man and recovered the will, he would not be able to get out of the country with it. he had little doubt that sheikh burrachee's signet-ring and the parchment in the silver case, would, properly used, find him safe conduct to his uncle, if living; but the getting back again he suspected would be much more difficult, for his fanatical relative would probably want to keep him when he had got him. but as khartoum was a so much larger and more important town than berber, so much greater difficulty was there in tracing an individual; and perseveringly and assiduously as harry pursued his investigations, he could learn nothing. most of those of whom he made inquiries were probably as ignorant as they professed to be; but there were some who, at the name of daireh, looked at the inquirer with a quick suspicious glance. one of these replied with a verse out of the koran, another with a proverb, a third said he never meddled with other people's affairs, and walked quickly away. after three days of fruitless inquiry, harry was obliged to have recourse to the plan which he wished to avoid as long as he could--that of applying to the authorities. so he inquired for the house of slatin bey, to whom he had a letter of introduction, and went to deliver his credentials. experience in transacting business on his former journey up the country had taught him how to expedite his reception, and a judicious application of baksheesh caused him to be introduced to the great man without too great delay. slatin bey read the letter, and received him courteously, motioning him to a seat on the divan, and ordering him a chibouque to smoke, and coffee. harry knew that the great man must not be bustled, so he sucked at his long pipe with apparent complacency and indifference to all external matters, and said that he was an englishman, who had come from london to bask in the sunshine of the bey's presence. "england is a great country, and london is a great town--twice as large as cairo. i am honoured," said the bey. "and you need no interpreter? that is pleasant." "i speak but badly, but i can understand and reply," said harry. "it is well," said the bey; "and if you have a message for the governor it is best delivered without an interpreter." "i have no message; neither, though a merchant, have i come to trade," said harry, when after a few observations on fleets, armies, and mr gladstone--in which the bey evidently tried to pump him--he thought he saw an opening. "my business is a private one. a man named daireh, a native of alexandria, went to england as a boy, and was brought up to be a lawyer. he has fled with documents, for the want of which i cannot obtain property which is mine by right, and i have traced him to khartoum; and i request your highness's omnipotent aid to find him, and induce him to make restitution of what is valueless to him, but of great importance to me." the bey smoked a little while in silence, and then said-- "if these documents are of no use to him, why has he taken them?" "he took them to extort money for their recovery," replied harry. "but he had committed other crimes which obliged him to fly the country in a hurry, and before he had time to make profit of the papers." another long pause of silent smoking, and the bey observed-- "it is a difficult matter, and he will be hard to find." harry was prepared for objections, and had learned the best arguments for their removal. he placed a purse containing the sum which his friends in cairo had estimated sufficient on the divan, and said-- "i know that legal expenses are great in all countries, and it is only just that i should bear the charge." the bey bowed and clapped his hands. "send abdullah here," he said to the attendant who appeared. abdullah came in; an old man, with an ink horn and other writing materials, worn in a case stuck into his girdle instead of weapons, who prostrated himself, and was questioned. he remembered the name of daireh, and knew there was something wrong about him. but he must consult his books and examine certain sbirri, or policemen. so harry had to go away, with the promise that he should have fuller information next day. he did not for a moment expect to be satisfied so quickly as that, nor was he; but still he was infinitely more lucky than most people who have to deal with turkish or egyptian authorities, for at a third meeting, and with a little more baksheesh to subordinates, he got at the facts; and very disappointing they were. when the egyptian army, now under the command of hicks pasha, was being gathered to the camp of um durma, where it was at present situated, daireh had been very energetic in trying for contracts to supply the troops with various requisites, and had ingratiated himself with many of the egyptian officers, so he came and went freely past the sentries at all hours, always having the password. one of the english officers, however, chanced to see him one day in company which aroused his suspicions, and he had him watched, and shortly afterwards a couple of spies were taken, from the papers found on whom, as well as from the confessions they were induced to make--not, i fear, by arguments which would be approved of in more civilised lands--it became evident that daireh was in communication with the enemy, and had kept him posted as to the number of the troops, their organisation, and their probable movements. orders were immediately issued for the arrest of the traitor, who, however, had disappeared, having doubtless taken refuge with the mahdi. this news was a terrible blow to harry. he had tracked the man all these thousands of miles, and here, just as he had his hand upon him, he had slipped away again, and was now farther off than ever. there seemed to be but one chance left--to employ the signet-ring, to apply to the principal dervish of khartoum, and seek out his uncle ralph, the sheikh burrachee. he was most likely with the mahdi, or else with osman digna out red sea way; and, in the former case, he would help him to recover what he wanted from daireh, who was pretty certainly with the false prophet. but it was extremely distasteful to him to have recourse to such an expedient. his uncle was a renegade, and if england espoused the cause of the khedive, which, after the experience of interference with arabi's revolt, it was very likely that she would do, he would be in arms against his country. it was certain that he would not desert the man, mahomet achmet, whom his cracked brain accepted as a prophet from heaven, for any patriotic consideration, for he was a wrong-headed irishman as well as a fanatic, and a man with a grievance to boot, and would glory in drawing his sword against england. and if he joined him and sought his aid, harry forsyth might find himself in the awkward fix of acquiescing, if not taking part, in war against his countrymen, or of losing his head. and he had a sort of foolish weakness for his head, which fitted very comfortably on his shoulders, and did not want transferring to any other pedestal. and then, suppose, after all, the sheikh burrachee were serving with osman digna on the other side of the soudan! he would be farther off his object than ever after he joined him. he revolved all this in his mind as he walked moodily through the bazaar, where the products of all countries were displayed, not excepting the merchandise of manchester and birmingham, when he heard voices in loud altercation, and, looking up, he saw a group of men whose gestures showed them to be strangely excited about something. an arab, who stalked along, his hand on the hilt of his sword, and scowling on the bystanders, seemed to be the object of this commotion. "stop him!" "seize him!" "the spy!" "the rebel!" were the cries: but the arab passed on like a lion through a crowd of wolves. then an egyptian soldier, bolder than the rest, seized him by the sword- arm, and in a second half a dozen were upon him. but in the next he had shaken himself free, and his bright blade flashed in the sunlight, and down went the first aggressor on the causeway, which was flooded with a crimson stream. pistols were pulled out, carbines unslung, as the motley crowd rushed to the spot. pop, pop, pop; at least half a dozen shots were fired. one bullet whizzed unpleasantly close to harry's nose, another smashed in amongst the bottles of an apothecary's stall, from which an assortment of odours arose, attar of rose and asafoetida being the most prominent. what billets all the other bullets found i know not, but one severed the arab's spine, and avenged the egyptian. by the time harry got up to this latter, he saw that a man in european clothing was by his side, kneeling on one knee, and trying to check the flow of blood which pumped out of a wound in his neck. "is there a human being here who is not a jabbering idiot?" he cried in english. "keep back, you fools, and let the man have a chance to breathe." "can i be of any use?" asked harry, pushing to him. "that's right, come on," said the surgeon, as he evidently was. "lay hold of this forceps, and hold tight--that's it--while i cut down a bit and tie it lower down. no good, i fear; there are too many vessels severed. by george, how sharp those fellows keep their tools!" he was right; it _was_ no good. in five minutes the egyptian soldier died under his hands. upon which he rose up and walked on to where the arab lay, to see if anything could be done for him; but he had hardly moved since the shot struck him. "a bad business," said the doctor to harry, who had followed him. "we have not got many soldiers in our force brave enough to lay hold of an arab, and can ill afford to lose one of them in a stupid affair like this." "are they such cowards?" asked harry. "but i say," he added, as he looked in the other's face, "is not your name howard?" "yes, it is." "don't you remember forsyth at harton--your fag?" "remember little forsyth! of course i do. but you don't mean to say-- by george! now i look at you i see a sort of a likeness. but i should never have known you." "i expect not. when you left i was thirteen, and i have altered a good bit since then. but you were eighteen or thereabouts, and have not changed so much." "that's it; though i have had plenty to change me, too. but how do you come to be here, and in that toggery?" "well, it is rather a long story," said harry, "and i would sooner tell it sitting down somewhere out of the sun. what are you doing here--in private practice?" "that is a long story, too," cried howard, laughing; "and i would also sooner tell it sitting out of the sun. come to yussuff's, where we can wash this mess from our hands, and get anything we want." yussuff's was not far. it was a convenient establishment, where you could get a meal, or a bottle of wine, or even beer, if you would pay for it, or simply take a chibouque or narghile, and a cup of coffee or a sherbet. "try the lemonade; they make it first-rate here," said howard; and harry took his advice, and swallowed a big glassful of nectar, which no iced champagne he had ever drunk could beat. and then they washed their hands and rested on a comfortable divan while they interchanged confidences. howard had been a bit wild, perhaps, before he passed the college of surgeons, and did not see any opening afterwards; he had no money or professional interest. so he had gone into the turkish service, and, thinking himself ill-treated, had passed into that of the khedive, and had lately volunteered to accompany hicks pasha's expedition. "i have made a regular hash of it, as usual," he said; "for my great wish is to study gun-shot wounds, and for that purpose i should have taken service with the mahdi; for almost all our fellows are hurt with spears or swords, while all their wounded are shot. but now tell me what extraordinary chance has brought you out here." harry told his story, leaving out, however, all that part about his uncle, the tipperary sheikh, who was now in all probability in the ranks of the enemy hicks pasha's force was about to attack. when he had done, howard said-- "i remember that fellow daireh; he would have had a short shrift if we had caught him! it was unlucky, though, that he was found out before you came; he could not have done us much more harm, and the finding him here would have done you a great deal of good. by george! you are a nasty fellow to have for an enemy, forsyth! what a sticker you are--a regular sleuth-hound. fancy following your enemy to the very end of the world! such a little innocent chap as i remember you, too. i don't think i bullied you much, did i? by george, i should have thought twice about offending you if i had known what a red indian i had to deal with!" "i did think you rather a beast sometimes," said harry, laughing; "and i took it out of the next generation, when i had a fag in my turn. but there is no revenge or vice in my present journey; it is simply to get my money. i had been a good bit of the way already on other people's business, and that put me up to coming on my own. do you remember kavanagh?" "very slightly; he was a little fellow--brown's fag." "he is not a little fellow now!" said harry, laughing. "i should say he would weigh down the pair of us." "and you can talk the lingo!" said howard, admiringly. "it is very few words that i have been able to pick up. but what are you going to do now?" "that is just what i was wondering when that row took place, and sent all my ideas and reflections spinning. i must sleep on it." "look here," said howard, presently. "the chances are that that fellow daireh has gone to the mahdi's head-quarters, which are at el obeid. now we are going to el obeid; therefore come with us there." "a capital idea!" cried harry, hope dawning once more in his breast. "there will be a chance of catching the fellow, after all, that way. but how can it be managed? will hicks pasha be bothered with me?" "he does not want any useless mouths, it is true," said howard; "but i expect that he will be able to make some use of you. an englishman who has shown sufficient energy to make his way out to khartoum, and who can understand and speak arabic, and that at an age when his sisters and their she friends would call him `a nice boy,' and patronisingly teach him the newest waltz steps, is sure to be available in some capacity, especially for a leader with the resources of our chief. at any rate there is no harm in trying, and if you come with me i will introduce you. you need not tell him your story, you know, unless he asks you for it, because it is rather long, and he is very busy. later, over a bivouac fire, it may interest and amuse him. just say who you are, what you can do, and offer your services, and i do not doubt you will find yourself a man in authority over a certain number of egyptians." "what sort of soldiers do these egyptians make? they did not do much good against us under arabi." "no; and we have a lot who ran away at tel-el-kebir here. they are no good. the egyptian rule has been a curse to the soudan, and the egyptian troops are the greatest curs that ever tempted a brave but unarmed people to throw off the yoke. but suppose we go to the camp." chapter eight. kavanagh's choice. captain strachan was an old naval officer, who lived in a rather retired spot on the borders of somersetshire and devonshire. his house had a verandah round it, and one warm afternoon he was sitting at a table under this, spectacles on nose, tying artificial flies. a young son of twelve sat by him rapt, holding feathers and silk, which latter he had previously drawn through a kid glove containing cobbler's wax, and wondering whether he should ever attain to the paternal skill in this manufacture. mrs strachan and two of her girls were round another wicker-work table a little farther off, indulging in afternoon tea, their books and needlework put down for the minute. presently the sound of a horse's hoofs was heard upon the gravel beyond the garden hedge, and mary, the eldest girl, jumped from her low basket chair, exclaiming-- "here he comes!" everybody looked up, expectant; even captain strachan laid down his work--and those who have ever endeavoured to manufacture an artificial fly know what _that_ means--as our old friend, tom strachan, walked up the path towards the group. as he did not look very pleased, his mother concluded the worst, and said-- "never mind, tom, if you _have_ failed; very few succeed the first time, and you have two more chances." for tom had been in for the competitive examination, and had now ridden over to barnstaple to forestall the country postman and learn his fate. "but i have not failed, mother," said tom; "indeed, i am pretty high up in the list--better than i expected." "well done, my boy!" cried captain strachan. "not that i had any fear for you, because i saw you reading steadily at home when there was no pressure put upon you. and those were the fellows who always passed in my days. but i am glad it is safe, all the same, and we will have a bottle of that old ferrier-jouet for dinner on the strength of it. but i say, tom, you look as grave as a marine at a court-martial. no wonder your mother thought you had scored a blank." "well, the fact is, my friend kavanagh has not had my luck. it is awfully hard lines, for he has only missed it by twenty marks. it is a bad job." "aye, it is a pity," said captain strachan. reginald kavanagh was a general favourite in the family, with whom he had twice been to stay in the holidays. "a pity for him and a pity for the service. he was cut out for a soldier if ever a lad was. well, i hope he will study hard now, and succeed next time." "that is the worst of it," said tom. "he has no second chance, for he has no money to live upon till the time comes. i told you about that will which has been stolen or lost; that was the only thing he had to depend upon, and he has got to earn his bread." there was a general murmur of regret. mrs strachan particularly pitied him for having no mother to console him, though her husband thought that this was a redeeming feature in the case. if he had to bear her disappointment as well as his own it would be a great deal worse, he said, and no young fellow of spirit wants to be pitied. "besides," he added, "there is this to be thought of. suppose he had succeeded, he would not have been in a very pleasant position. a subaltern trying to live upon his pay is placed about as uncomfortably as a lad can be. for my part, i am not sure that i would not sooner be a full private, if i must take to soldiering at all." "but your other friend, forsyth, who went out to egypt to find the man who was supposed to have the will--has nothing been heard from him?" asked mary. "nothing to help," replied tom. "there has been one letter from him, and he was as hopeful as ever; but he had only got as far as cairo. of course, if he succeeds kavanagh will be right enough, but what is he to do in the meantime? he has no relative to go to, you see." "we would have him here for a spell if it were likely to do him any good," said captain strachan. "thank you, father. it will be kind to ask him, but i know he won't come. he has never been sanguine about forsyth's recovering the will, and i know had made up his mind to face the situation if he failed in this. he would feel that coming here would only make it more difficult afterwards. he expected to be spun, and i have no doubt has fixed his plans." although his friend's failure damped tom strachan's pleasure in his own success, it could not entirely quench it, and the family party soon grew more cheery. of course the publication of the list was a terrible facer for kavanagh, and when he saw the certainty of his failure his heart thumped hard and his brain reeled for half a minute. but when the mist cleared from his eyes he drew a long breath, shook himself, and lit a cigar. he did not bother himself with "ifs." _if_ he had read this subject a little more, and that a little less, he would have got so many more marks. _if_ those questions he had particularly crammed in such a subject had been set. _if_ there had been three more vacancies, etcetera. neither did he regret his former want of application, which he had done his very utmost to remedy the last year. nor did he give way to a passion of vexation about the missing will, or repine at fate. "what's the use?" he said to himself when these thoughts recurred to him; and he smothered them as he walked towards his room--this was in the chambers of a brother militia officer who played at being a barrister and lived in the temple. as he was a sportsman and an alpine climber, he did not live very much in london, and finding that his subaltern, kavanagh, was going to lodge in the capital for the sake of reading with a crammer, and having a spare bedroom which he did not want, and was thinking of letting off if he found a friend whose coming in and out would not bore him, to take it, he proposed that the lad should do so. if he liked to pay him pounds a year he might; if not, it did not matter. for he had taken a great fancy to kavanagh, who, indeed, was a general favourite. when royce, the owner of the chambers, was away, kavanagh had the sole use of the sitting-room as well as of the bedroom; and when he was in town it was much the same thing. they breakfasted together, but royce spent most of the day at his club. he was in london now, and kavanagh wished he was not, for he did not want consolation, advice, or offer of help. he knew that he had to work out this business for himself, and the less said the better. royce was not in now, that was one consolation. kavanagh went up to his room, and began overhauling his clothes. he selected an old pair of corduroy trousers which he had used for shooting, with a coat and waistcoat which had been worn with them, and a pair of boots bought in the country ready-made, on an occasion when he had been obliged, by an accident to his wardrobe, to supply himself in a hurry. a much-worn check shirt, with collar attached, and a black silk handkerchief, with a pair of worsted socks, completed the lot of clothes which he laid upon the bed, and for which he then changed what things he had on. these he packed up with all his other clothes in several portmanteaus and carpet bags. he next placed his tall hat away in its box, and, having completed these arrangements, put on a wideawake, went out, and called a four-wheeler. then he went upstairs again, and returned with a tin uniform-case on one shoulder and a portmanteau in his hand. it took him three trips to bring all his goods down and stow them on and in the cab. when at last he had accomplished it, he was stopped as he drove off by one of the officials, who said-- "halloa, my man, where are you off to with mr kavanagh's luggage?" "i am mr kavanagh," he replied. "i beg your pardon, sir," said the man, touching his hat, as he recognised him. it was not very far that he took the cab, only across to holywell street, where he stopped at an old clothes shop, and dismissed the astonished cabby, after having carried all the luggage inside, a young man with a hooked nose helping him quite as a matter of course. "now, then," said kavanagh, "what are you going to give me for all these things, clothes, uniform, portmanteaus, cases, and all. of course they will go dirt cheap, but don't overdo it, or i shall call a cab and go on to the next establishment. i don't mind the trouble of packing up again." "theresh no one in the street gives so good a prish as me," said the man, turning over the different articles, and beginning to depreciate them. there was no sale for uniforms; those shirts were thin in the back; that coat was too big for most customers, and so forth. kavanagh cut him short-- "i don't want to know all that; come to the point, and say what you will give for the lot." "what do you ask?" counter-responded the jew. "twenty pounds; and that's an alarming sacrifice." "twenty pounds! did any one ever hear the like! twenty pounds for old clothes!" "why, you would sell the portmanteaus and tin cases alone for ten, and that overcoat for three." "you think so, my tear young man? tear, tear, how little you know of the trade! i'll give you five pounds for the lot, and then i doubt if i shall make any profit," and the dealer looked determined. "say ten pounds, and it's a bargain," said kavanagh. "no, i say five, and i mean five. take it, or leave it." "well, to have done with all bother, we will make it seven pounds," cried kavanagh, who was amused with his first attempt at making a deal of the kind. the jew compressed his lips and shook his head. "very good, then," said kavanagh, dragging one of the portmanteaus towards him, and beginning to pack it. "i will try my luck over the way there. i see it is so close a cab will not be necessary; i can carry the things across. sorry to have troubled you." "here, stop a bit," said the jew. "say six pounds, and that is a more generous offer than you will get anywhere else." kavanagh went on with his packing. "well, six ten, and that will swallow up all my profit, i fear, but i'll risk it for once. well, come, seven pounds then, since you must have it." so kavanagh left goods and chattels, which had cost about seventy pounds, behind him, and walked out with a tenth part of that sum in cash. then he went down the strand till he came to a pawnbroker's, where he disposed of the rings, studs, and pins which he possessed, thus adding a further ten pounds to his capital. his next visit was to a watchmaker's, where he was known, though the owner of it did not recognise him at first in his shabby clothes. "you see i have come down in the world, mr balance," said kavanagh. mr balance put on what he meant for a grave and sympathetic face. "to wear a gold watch and chain would be absurd in my altered circumstances. are you willing to change them for a stout silver one which will keep as good time, and pay me something for the difference?" "certainly i will, mr kavanagh; but, dear me, sir, pardon my asking; your guardian, mr burke, was such an old customer. i hope sir, there has been no unpleasantness between you." "none whatever; only he has died, poor man, and his will, in which i know that i was well treated, cannot be found. so you see i must not indulge in gold watches." "dear me!" said the old man, to whom kavanagh had gone for his first watch when quite a little boy, and upon whom he had called whenever he was in town since; to get the second handsome gold hunter now in question; to have it cleaned; to buy some little knick-knack, or merely for a chat. "dear me; i do hope all will come right; i am _sure_ all will come right." "i hope you are a true prophet," said kavanagh, cheerily. "but now, how about this silver watch?" he chose a good strong one, with a chain to match, and handed over the gold, mr balance giving him twenty-five pounds besides. "i say! this is too much!" cried kavanagh. "it only cost forty pounds when new." "and is worth thirty-five now," said the watchmaker. "i shall make a good profit out of the bargain, i assure you." kavanagh pocketed his new watch, held out his hand, which the old man grasped, across the counter, and walked away murmuring, "good old chap!" it was still early in the afternoon, so to complete all his business at once he walked back to the chambers, took his sword, which he had not parted with, packed it up in brown paper, and directed it to tom strachan. then he wrote this letter:-- "dear tom,--when i joined the militia i hoped that it was a stepping- stone to the line, so i would not have a tailor's sword, but indulged in the expensive luxury of a good one. accept it, old fellow, with all sorts of congratulations and good wishes. `the property of a gentleman, having no further use for it,' eh? i must poke my way to fame with a bayonet, if i am to get there, instead of carving it with a sword. thank your people for their kindness to me.--yours, etcetera." "by-the-by," he soliloquised, when he had stuck and directed this epistle, "i have not sent in the resignation of my commission yet." and he took half a sheet of foolscap and wrote out the formal notice to the adjutant of the th blankshire at once. then he said, "there is nothing else, i think, but to post the letters and send the sword off by rail; and then go in for new experiences." it was a good bit of a new experience for him to carry a parcel through the streets of london, and book it himself, but in his present costume he did not mind doing it one bit. indeed, he felt quite light-hearted; knowing the worst was much better than the anxiety of the past few weeks. and then there was another matter. having been used to a good allowance, and possessing naturally somewhat fastidious tastes, he had not been very economical, though, as he hated the idea of debt, and would rather have blacked shoes for a livelihood than have imposed on his generous godfather and guardian, he had not fallen into actually extravagant habits. when mr burke died, and the will was not forthcoming, and he was thus placed face to face with actual impending poverty, kavanagh had the sense, the manliness, and the honesty, to do violence to his tastes and feelings, by guarding against all unnecessary expenditure. but to a free-handed and generous disposition this is a very hard task; and when the end came, and he cast up his accounts, he found to his dismay that he owed more than the balance of his allowance, the last sum paid to him, would cover. it was not much, and would not have been pressed for, but kavanagh, though rather weak about his personal appearance, had a pound of manly pride to an ounce of girlish vanity, and would sooner have gone in rags than owed money to a tailor. the money he had obtained that afternoon would entirely clear him from every liability, and leave him with a few pounds in his pocket; and this relief made him quite light-hearted, in spite of the final tumble of his house of cards. the question was--where to dine. he knew lots of restaurants and chop- houses, but even in the most humble of the latter, where the floor was saw-dusted, his present costume would excite remark. he had from boyhood been particular about his dress, and his collars and waistcoats had incited some of his friends to call him a dandy, so his scruples may have been exaggerated. at last he saw several better-class artisans go into an eating-house in oxford street, and following them he did very well. the table-cloth was stained with brown circles from the porter pots, and was otherwise dirty; the forks were pewter, and there were no napkins; but the meat was as good as you would get anywhere, so were the vegetables, the beer also; and the cost was about half that of the most homely chop-houses he had hitherto patronised. his dinner done, it was about the time when the theatres were opening, so he went to the gallery door of one of the principal of them, and after waiting a little while, amongst the good-humoured crowd, he surged upstairs with them--many stairs they were, and steep--and got a good place close to the chandelier. the warmth and light from it were rather too obtrusive, but did not prevent his taking an interest in the performance, which was shared by his neighbours in the most intense and hearty fashion. the women sobbed at the pathetic parts, while the men set their teeth and turned white when the villain temporarily got the best of it, and both sexes roared with delight over the comic scenes. likewise, all sucked oranges; therefore kavanagh purchased and sucked an orange, and ingratiated himself with his female neighbours by politely offering them that fruit! and between the acts, when the young men in the stalls, in their white ties, and white kid gloves, and nicely parted hair, stood up and languidly surveyed the house through their opera-glasses, kavanagh had a sardonic amusement in the recollection as he thought that a fortnight before he had sat in that fourth stall in the third row, in evening dress, with a gardenia in his button-hole, and had similarly inspected the inferior beings around him. froggy barton occupied that seat to- night. kavanagh took a squeeze at his orange, and thought he could hit froggy with the skin. but of course he refrained from trying. only he did look so sleek! "what much wiser people we are than the swells!" kavanagh thought. "we enjoy ourselves without being ashamed of it, and we endure crowding and semi-suffocation without getting ill-tempered!" but he soon had enough of it, in spite of his philosophy, and after the second fall of the curtain was glad to get into the fresh air. when he reached the temple he found royce expecting him, and directly he entered he got up and shook him by the hand. "i did not see the list till six," he said, "and then i came to chambers in hopes of finding you, and getting you to come out somewhere. you have not been moping, i hope." "moping! not a bit of it," replied kavanagh. "i am not going to cry `i take a licking!' because fortune has caught me a couple of facers without a return. i have been to the theatre, and enjoyed myself vastly, i assure you." "to the theatre! you; in that dress!" exclaimed royce. "oh, i went to the gallery. i have accepted the situation." "come and sit down and light a pipe," said royce. "i won't bore you with unavailing regrets. tell me what you are going to do, and if i can help you at all." "thank you; i have thought it probable i should fail, and have debated with myself deliberately what course is best to adopt. i have come to a conclusion, and no one can help me. my first thought was that if i failed to be an officer i would be a private, and the more i have thought it over the more convinced i have become that that would suit me better than anything else. i have never learned a trade, so i could not be a skilled artisan, and a soldier's life would suit me better than that of an ordinary day labourer, whose work requires no head-piece. as for spending my days in an office, a warehouse, or a shop, it would be like going to prison for me. in short, i am going to enlist, and have also determined on the branch of the service which is to reap the benefit." "cavalry, i suppose; lancers, dragoons, or hussars?" "neither. i fixed on that arm at first; the uniform attracted me; the sword is a noble weapon; and to ride is pleasanter than to walk. but these advantages are more than counterbalanced by the lot of accoutrements a horse soldier has to clean, and the fact that at the end of a day's march he has to attend to his horse before he can look after himself." "a great many gentlemen's sons go into the artillery." "i have settled upon the infantry, and intend to-morrow morning to offer my invaluable services to the foot guards. you look surprised." "well, yes," said royce. "to tell the truth i fancied that you would be anxious to get to india; there is more chance, you know, of promotion that way." "i have thought out that. but, to tell the truth, unless there were a prospect of active service i should prefer to remain in england, for this sole reason. i do not give up all hope of that will turning up, and if it should, i want to be in the way of getting early information, and looking after my interests." royce sat in silent thought for a little while, and then said-- "i see what you mean, and upon my word i do not know how to advise you better." and after a little more chat they went to bed. next morning, when kavanagh was dressed, he turned to his bath with a sad conviction that his morning ablutions must in future be of a much less satisfactory nature, and he sighed, for this went more home to him than almost anything. "ta, ta, tub!" he said, as he closed the door. he found royce already in the sitting-room making the tea, and they breakfasted together. when the meal was over, kavanagh rose and said-- "by-the-by, there is my gun; it is a full-choke, and a remarkably good killer if one only holds it straight. it was a present, and i did not like to sell it. will you have it as a memorial from a fellow to whom you have been uncommonly kind? good-bye, and thank you for all." "good-bye," said royce, in a voice which he had a difficulty to keep steady. "i hope luck will turn for you soon; but i feel sure it will. and if you have forgotten anything, or i can do anything for you, mind you come to me, or write if i am out of town. good-bye again." kavanagh wrung his old captain's hand and hurried down-stairs, leaving him with a ball in his throat and moisture very near his eyes. "thank goodness that is over!" he murmured, as he left the temple. "now for the barracks." instead of offering himself to one of the outside recruiters, he went straight to the orderly room, and told a sergeant waiting outside that he wished to join. so he was brought before the adjutant almost at once. he stood six feet in his stockings, and measured forty-one inches round the chest, so there was no difficulty about his acceptance. they jumped at him like a trout at a may fly. he gave his real name, reginald kavanagh. "if i were ashamed of what i am doing, i would not do it," he reasoned. and besides, he wished to be traced with the greatest possible ease should the missing will be found. of course the life at first was extremely hard, and the companionship of some of his comrades very distasteful to him, but he took care not to show it. and others were as good fellows as ever stepped, and with them he made friends. the fact of his knowing his drill thoroughly made matters easier for him, and he soon learned how to clean his arms and accoutrements, make his bed, and so forth. and by dint of unhesitating obedience to orders, even when foolish, and never answering or arguing with superiors, he got a good name without subserviency. chapter nine. the army of hicks pasha. it may have seemed to you that harry forsyth took the death of the egyptian soldier rather callously, seeing that he was not used to such scenes, and that he ought to have been a little more impressed. but you see he had resided in egypt, and been some way up the nile before; and in hot countries people not only live a good deal, but die a good deal, in the open air, so that he had seen human bodies; and more than once, in the course of his journeys, he had come upon one such lying much as you will see that of a dog on the mud of a tidal river at home at low water. it is astonishing how soon we grow hardened to such spectacles. and then, unless he has become exceptionally cosmopolitan, a briton finds it very difficult to reckon an african, or even an asiatic, as _quite_ a human being. of course he knows that he is so, just as much as himself. he knows, and perhaps vehemently asserts, if necessary, that even the lowest type of negro is a man and a brother, and not a connecting link between man and monkey. but he cannot _manage_ to feel that he is of the same value as a european, or to look upon his corpse with a similar awe. in the early days of the australian colonies, an officer in a scottish regiment quartered out in that hemisphere caught a native robbing his garden, chased him with a club, and hit him harder than he intended, so that the man fell down and never got up again, for which the officer was sorry, though held justified. about that time bad news from home oppressed his spirits to such an extent that his soldier-servant, who was much attached to him, and was allowed considerable freedom of speech in consequence of his value and fidelity, thought fit to remonstrate. he attributed his master's lowness of spirits entirely to his brooding over the accident, and said one morning when he had brushed the clothes and brought the shaving-water-- "i ask your pardon, meejor; but it's sair to see you take on so aboot the likes of that heathen body. a great traveller i was conversing with last night, and a respectable and trustworthy man, sir, told me that there's thousands and thousands of them up the country." he thought that his master was fretting over the wanton destruction of a rare specimen, a sort of dodo! howard and forsyth left khartoum and strolled towards the plain where the egyptian army lay. a town of tents, well pitched indeed, and dressed in parallel lines, and kept fairly clean--the english officers, though they had had all their work cut out, had at length taught the egyptians that--but wanting in all those little embellishments which distinguish an english or french encampment, especially if it is at all permanent. no little flags to mark the companies; no extemporised miniature gardens; no neat frames to hang recently-cleaned accoutrements on. the sentries mooned up and down, carrying their rifles as if they were troublesome, heavy things, they longed to threw down, that they might put their hands in their pockets. in one block of tents, however, which they passed through there was a great difference. the sentry stood to his front and shouldered arms, as he saw howard approach, smartly and with alacrity. the men were cleaning their arms as if they took pride in the task, not like paupers picking oakum; others were laughing loudly, or playing like schoolboys, and harry noticed they were all black. "these niggers look much finer fellows than the rest," he observed. "i should think they were!" replied howard. "these are nubians, and i wish we had more of them. they hate the arabs, too, and that is another good thing." "what a lot of camels!" exclaimed harry, as, passing over the top of a little hill, they came in sight of lines and lines of those ships of the desert, lying down, kneeling, standing; "and how strong they smell. one might fancy oneself in a menagerie." "yes; hercules himself could not have kept that quarter clean; the augean stables were nothing to it. but look at these fellows we are coming to now. you seem to be a bit of a military critic; what do you think of them, and how do you like their mounts?" they were now passing a small camp on the further side of the mound they had crossed. three rows of tents, and aligned with each on the reverse flank a line of horses picketed--small, almost ponies, thin in the flank, wiry, but extremely rough. there had been no pains taken in grooming them evidently. as for the men loafing or swaggering about, those who were fully dressed were so stuck all over with arms--pistols, swords, daggers--that one wondered if they were suddenly attacked what weapon they would have recourse to first, and if they would make up their minds in time. "i am no critic at all," said harry, laughing, "though every englishman thinks he is a judge of horseflesh, and i fancy those might possess endurance, if not up to much weight. as for the men, they seem to fancy themselves more than the egyptians; but a more villainous, blood- thirsty, thievish-looking set of scoundrels, it has never been my luck to see herded together." "you are not far out," said howard, laughing. "i should not like one of them to come across me if i were wounded and helpless, and had anything worth stealing about me, let me be friend or foe. but they are useful for scouting, and there are only three hundred of them. they are called bashi-bazooks, you know." "yes," said harry; "from _bash_, a head; _da_, without; _zook_, brains. so called, as the `old skekarry' said, because they live on their wits: _lucus a non lucendo_." "my dear fellow," remonstrated howard, "have i come all this way from conventional england to the wilds of africa to hear once more that dreadful quotation? go on; give us _sic vos non vobis_, and follow it up with _tempora mutantur nos et mutamur in illis_, or any other little house-of-commons delicacy; only don't say _et nos_, as some of the senators, who cannot, alas! be flogged for it, often do." harry apologised, and they now approached the english officers' quarters, the egyptian flag marking that of the general commanding the expedition. "wait here a little," said howard; "i will see if the chief is disengaged and able to see you," and he entered the tent. harry sat down on a rude lounging chair he found just outside under the shade of a palm-tree, and tried to reflect, not with any great success. he was thoroughly bewildered with the events of the morning, following the variations of hope and despondency produced by the near approach to the object of his journey, and then finding it elude him, which had occurred twice in the last few weeks. without knowing it, he was becoming a practical fatalist, inclined to do what seemed best at the moment, and let things slide, forming no plans for a future which was so very uncertain. not a bad state of mind this for a hot country, where worry of mind is especially trying. perhaps that is why asiatics encourage it so much. it was not long before howard came to the tent door and beckoned harry in. on entering, he saw the general seated at a table covered with writing materials, finishing a despatch for which an orderly was waiting. he was dressed in a sort of loose tunic, with pantaloons and riding-boots, and the sword which trailed by the side of his chair was straight. a pith helmet stood on the table before him, and altogether he looked like an englishman, and not at all like a pasha, as from the name harry somewhat absurdly expected. presently hicks pasha looked up, and harry at once recognised one who is born for command. there was no mistaking the bright eye, which seemed to look _into_ the man it rested upon; the firm and manly features, the _will_ expressed in the strong nervous hand. but it is in vain to attempt to explain this, which at the same time everybody can understand. the school-boy with his master, the soldier with his officer--every subordinate knows instinctively if it is of any use "trying it on." not that he looked like one who would be harsh or tyrannical. on the contrary, his face was lit up by a courteous smile as howard introduced his newly-found friend. "glad to see you," said the general, offering his hand. "the country is in a disturbed state for travellers, and i fear that you will hardly get out of it without some risk. the river is still open to berber, and you might get across from there to suakim. but i cannot promise to help you much." "it is not my object to get out of the country at present," said harry; "quite the reverse. i thought that perhaps you might be able to make use of me in some way, and wished to volunteer my services. i can make myself understood in arabic, if that is any use." "well, we have an interpreter," replied hicks pasha. "if you had served we might be glad of you, but you are too young for that." "i learned my drill as a volunteer," said harry, "and i have been successful at wimbledon as a shot." "well, but i cannot put you in the ranks with natives," said the general, laughing, "and i cannot take you about as a sort of animated machine-gun. can you ride?" "yes," replied harry, who indeed had a very fair seat on horseback. "i might make use of you then to gallop for me, or to go out with the scouts, as you speak arabic. well, we will attach you as a volunteer cadet to a company _pro tem_, at all events. an englishman is always useful to control the fire in action. but you must understand i do not guarantee you any pay; we will put you on rations, and if your commission is made out and confirmed i will do my best to obtain arrears for you; but you must take your chance of all that." harry said that he quite understood, and only asked to be allowed to accompany the expedition to el obeid in any capacity. and then the interview was over, and harry left the tent, feeling quite as grateful as he had expressed himself, and glad also to serve under such a chief. it is curious how little things turn our minds in one direction or the opposite. twenty-four hours before, harry forsyth had no sympathy whatever with the turks and egyptians, while he thought the wild tribes of the soudan fine fellows, and worthy of the independence they sought to establish. indeed, he had seen too much of the shameless corruption and cruel extortion of egyptian officials to feel differently. and now, because he wanted to get to el obeid on the chance of catching daireh, and because english officers of position and experience commanded an egyptian army, and the general of it had a "presence" which inspired him with confidence and respect, he was ready to take up arms in defence of a cause which had nothing, so far as he knew, to recommend it, except that a certain amount of civilisation, the wearing of trousers and petticoats, banking, railways, and steam navigation were on one side, and a very primitive mode of life with nudity, or getting on to it, on the other. true, that there is the question of the slave trade, and that iniquitous business is kept up entirely by the arabs, but that very important matter had no weight at that time with harry, who merely knew that the slaves he had met were almost as free and much better off than the fellaheen or peasantry of egypt. "you must now come and make the acquaintance of my particular chief," said howard, as they left. "you must know that i am an irregular volunteer like yourself; at least, my appointment as surgeon requires confirmation." and so they went to the medical quarters, and harry was introduced to the head of that department, who took a professional view of the advent of the new-comer, and observing that he was very young for the work before him, asked if he was acclimatised. but when he learned that he had got through the hot season without any serious illness, he concluded that he had as good a chance of standing the campaign as any one. that same evening, harry made acquaintance with the other english officers, to the company of one of whom he was next day posted in orders. and then came the matter of getting uniform, a horse, and a sword, which was accomplished at once, without much difficulty in the shops of khartoum; and he found himself once more europeanised. there was no time for delay, as the expedition was to set out in a few days. the seniors received harry kindly and cordially enough, but they were extremely hard-worked, every man having to do the duty of ten. they were full of high spirits and confidence, however, sure of defeating the mahdi, recapturing el obeid, and conducting the campaign to a satisfactory conclusion, and the men caught a great deal of their spirit. the mass of them had fought under arabi at tel-el-kebir, and had there conceived a great idea of the prowess of their conquerors. english officers they imagined could not be defeated, and led by them they felt certain of victory. they were also much inspirited by the martial music with which the air was always filled. the bugle bands were really good, and some of the native airs lively and harmonious, but the constant beating of their tam-tams would have been somewhat trying to a nervous person, to whom quiet was the first condition of happiness. plenty was found for harry to do, and as he showed zeal, alacrity, and intelligence, he soon became a favourite. "send the young 'un" was often the decision come to when a matter requiring promptitude and gumption, and which the seniors could not well leave work in hand to attend to, had to be done. the great ambition of a subaltern in any capacity, civil or military, should be that his superior may learn to trust him; and harry forsyth succeeded in that. he was happier now than he had been for a long time, for he was too much occupied with his new duties to worry about daireh and the missing will. and if a shadow of melancholy came over him, it was when he thought of the cottage at sheen, and the anxiety his mother and sister would be in on his behalf. he wrote a long letter home, giving an account of all his proceedings and his present occupation, and sent it off the day before the march across the desert commenced. at length the camp was struck, and the army was on the march-- , infantry, cuirassiers, bashi-bazooks, and guns with rocket battery. there were some , camp followers, and , camels and horses. at first the route of this seemingly never-ending cavalcade lay along the nile bank. then it was committed to the desert. one hundred and eighty miles of trackless, parched waste lay between them and el obeid. the first few days had indeed been weary work; the ground was full of broad, deep cracks, for it had been under water when the nile rose, and on the river receding the fierce sun had had this effect upon the mud. mimosa shrub also grew thickly in parts; and it was important that the men should not straggle, for that was the opportunity the arabs were on the look-out for, and so many fearful disasters had already occurred from this very cause. for the soldiers, if the fierce children of the desert rushed upon them unexpectedly when they were in loose formation, were as helpless as sheep, though, when in a compact body, and under the immediate eyes of their english officers, they could fight steadily enough, as was proved at the battle of marabia in the spring of that same year, when they inflicted very severe losses upon the arabs, whom they totally defeated at little cost to themselves. but though the march had been toilsome, the river was near at hand, and the worst enemy of the desert, _thirst_, was not to be dreaded. but now they were to leave the nile behind them, and depend for their water supply entirely on the wells, which were understood to be at certain places on the line of march, though these were often found to be at much greater distances than had been represented. the progress was very slow, for they had to march in square--the leading battalion in line, the rear also in line, the right and left faces moving in fours, or in column, according to circumstances. in the centre were the camels and other baggage animals, with the two things which were as necessary to existence as air to breathe--ammunition and water. when, through inequality of ground or any other cause, the lines bulged, or the columns were broken, it was necessary to halt till all closed up again, and this of course delayed the march very much. ten miles a day were the utmost they could accomplish without running most unjustifiable risk. the irregular cavalry now proved of extreme value; preceding the army, scattered out in front and on each flank, they were bound to come upon any ambushed enemy in time to gallop back and warn the main body, who would then be able to close up, and present a front on every side, which the enemy would find no opening to break in at. on the fourth day, as the troops were passing over a plain of sand which stretched away to the horizon all round, without a shrub to break the monotony, only here and there a block of rock, or the skeleton of a camel, showing where some wretched overtried animal had sunk under the too great presumption upon his wonderful powers of endurance, the scouts gave notice of arab approach, and a figure could be seen coming over the summit of a sand-hill, thus proving that the ground, though apparently flat, was undulating. field-glasses were turned towards the object, which could then be recognised as a man mounted on a camel, and the distance beyond him was eagerly scanned for the host of which he was assumed at first to be the precursor. but no one else appeared; he was quite alone, and he came directly towards the troops. as he was well mounted, and they were moving to meet him, it was not long before he was quite close, and then it could be seen that he was dressed in robe and turban, with a shawl round his waist, and that these garments, as well as his face, were stained with blood. and he leaned forward on his camel, as if well-nigh exhausted with wounds and fatigue. when the officer out with the scouts met and accosted him, he demanded to be led to the chief, and when he was accordingly brought before the general, he said-- "i am the sheikh moussa. neither i nor any of my tribe have acknowledged the mahdi, whom we hold to be a false prophet and impostor. whereupon he sent a body of troops to attack the village where seven families of us dwelt. they came at the rising of the moon, and set fire to our huts, but we flew to arms, and thrice drove them back, slaying two for one. but they were ten to one, and at each onset we were fewer and more weary. at last the fight turned to mere slaughter. i sought my dromedary and fled, in hopes of vengeance. they have slain my wife, my children, my slaves; there is a blood feud between the mahdi and me. then i remembered that the turks led by englishmen were at khartoum, preparing for an attack upon my enemy, and i said, i will seek the english turk, the hicks pasha, and i will say, `i would be avenged upon my enemy, but i am alone, and what can one arm do? i have a sharp sword, i have a far-killing gun, i have a blood feud with your enemy. let me fight in your ranks.' i rode part of a night, and a day, and a second night; i had only filled my water-bottle once. it ran dry; my wounds grew stiff. i said, `i shall never reach khartoum, i shall die unavenged. it is allah's will; praise to allah, and the one prophet, for whom i am.' when lo! the english-led turk army has risen up and gone forth to meet me. it is fate." he had a drink of water given to him, and then the general asked him if he knew el obeid well. "every street, every corner of the ramparts," he replied. "did i not take part in the defence when the mahdi--may his grave be defiled!--was driven from them with slaughter?" "you may ride with us," said the general. "look to his cuts, howard," he added, seeing him close by, with a sponge and a bandage already in his hand. it was a sparing drop of water that was used, and that was presently drunk with avidity, defiled as it was. howard declared the cuts to be mere flesh wounds of no consequence. "i am the most unlucky fellow that ever was!" he exclaimed; "i never do get any gun-shot wounds, hardly." the sheikh moussa certainly proved an acquisition that day, for he took them a route diverging somewhat from that which they had been following, and so cutting off some three miles of their journey to the wells where they were to halt till the moon was up. and three miles when the water is running low are a matter of tremendous import to the traveller in the desert. after that the general often sent for the sheikh moussa to ride with him on the march; and he questioned him, and compared his answers with the maps and plans he had. and the more he was tested the more genuine did the man appear. the tribe, too, to which he claimed to belong was known to be friendly, and not as yet overawed into owning allegiance to the mahdi. and so the square dragged slowly on from well to well through the long scorching mornings and the bright moonlight nights, and was swallowed up in the desert. chapter ten. sent out scouting. it is one of the first principles of warfare that an army should always keep up communication with what is called its _base_, that is, the safe place from which food, ammunition, stores of all kinds, and fresh men to supply the place of those who fall, can be sent to it, and to which the sick and wounded may be returned. but as there is no universal rule in anything, and people have often to do what they can, rather than what they know to be best, it so happens that columns have sometimes to be launched into an enemy's country without any communication with seaport, town, or friendly frontier, so that they are entirely self-dependent, with no resources beyond what they have at hand, and liable to be attacked on all sides. this is termed being "in the air," and is a very great risk, which is only voluntarily incurred for the sake of gaining some equally great advantage. in civilised warfare failure under such circumstances means surrender; in expeditions against barbarians it involves utter destruction. hicks pasha's little army was now thus isolated, and, after several days' march across the desert, matters began to wear a very serious aspect. as has been said, ten miles a day were the utmost that could be accomplished, and the distance between the places where water could be obtained increased as they advanced. water was carried by camels in tanks with galvanised linings, which kept it fresh, and free from the nauseous taste which it gets from the skins in which travellers generally have to keep it. it is true that there is an earthenware water-bottle, which is in much request, and the inhabitants of a town on the nile earn their livelihood by manufacturing them. but the porousness of the clay, which keeps the contents so deliciously cool, makes them very brittle. in these tanks sufficient water could be carried for twenty-four hours, which meant at the present rate of marching but ten miles. there came an occasion when, at the end of the first day's halt from the last well, an order was given to put men and horses on a half ration of the precious fluid. considering that the full ration was very insufficient, this caused much suffering, especially as, there being no moon, night marches were out of the question, and the parched troops had to toil through the sand in the mornings and evenings, though they were forced to rest and get what shelter they could in the hottest part of the day. that night harry was roused from a dream of plunging in the river at harton, which, however, refused to cool or wet him, but seemed to turn to hot sand at his touch, by a shot and then a volley, a little in their front. he started to his feet and found howard standing beside him. "some stupid mistake of a sentry, very likely," said he. but presently the outposts came running in with three of their number missing, and two others with slight spear wounds, and reported an attack of the enemy. the force stood to its arms at once, and as it bivouacked in square, in the order in which it marched, every man was in his place without delay or confusion, and there was no danger of surprise, and some of the men would keep firing uselessly into darkness, and it gave their officers some trouble to stop them. this was done, however, and the waste of ammunition was left to the arabs, who kept up a dropping fire till dawn, wounding a poor camel by chance, but unable to do much damage by starlight from the distance at which they kept. "no gun-shot wounds for you at present," said harry, when he rejoined the surgeon. "i don't want any," replied howard. "i could not attend to a poor fellow after treating him, in any satisfactory way, on the march, and without water. do you know, i am tempted to drink the contents of my medicine bottles." "then you _must_ be thirsty, poor fellow. but, i say, do you call this being under fire? there! something struck the ground which i fancy must have been a bullet." "yes; they are making very long shots, but as some of them get into our neighbourhood, i suppose one may be said to be so. why?" "only because i have never been under fire before, and i expected to be in a funk." "there is time enough; i daresay you will get a satisfactory test of your nerves before long. but courage is a comparative thing, depending very much upon circumstances. i, for example, am a non-combatant, and though i have little dread of infectious diseases, which many heroes would shrink from risking contact with, i hold all lethal weapons in strong dislike. and yet, if there were a barrel of beer in front, though it were guarded by the best shots in boer land, i would have a fight for it." "i should think you would!" cried harry. "beer! how can you be so cruel as to mention the word?" but though the arab fusillade was almost innocuous, it harassed the troops, keeping them on the alert all night. and when, with the first streaks of dawn, the dreary march began, all traces of the foe had disappeared. all the morning dragged along, till fatigue and the heat of the sun compelled the mid-day halt. then forward again till dark; and no wells reached! hardly a drop of water left for each man! several had dropped and died in the course of that day's march, and several horses. the bugle bands, which had been so cheery in the start, were silent now; the poor fellows were too parched to blow their instruments. even the tam-tams were silent. not that either would have been prudent, for though, doubtless, they were never lost sight of by the enemy's scouts, there was no advantage in publishing their whereabouts. harry was on outpost duty that night, and when the firing was renewed, which happened soon after dark (though no enemy had been sighted all day), he, not being hard pressed, would not withdraw his men. the stars were very bright, and objects were distinguishable at about thirty yards distance; perhaps further by harry, who was particularly clear of vision, that being the reason, possibly, of his fine shooting. the arabs got closer to the rocks, amongst which the outpost was situated, with sentries at intervals connecting it with the square. harry felt savage with thirst, fatigue, and this aggravating annoyance, and was strongly tempted to try and make an example. he took a rifle from one of his men, and began stalking carefully in the direction of the flashes; not directly towards them, of course, which would have been trying to meet the bullets, but on the flank. crouching down under a sand ridge, he got pretty close, crawled a little nearer on his hands and knees, and peered forwards. there was a flash and a report quite near to him, and then harry could plainly distinguish the man kneeling up, withdrawing the old cartridge from his remington. he levelled his rifle, but could not see the fore-sight, so as to align it with the object. for a moment he was nonplussed, but suddenly remembered having read of a dodge for night shooting, and resolved to try it. he had in his pocket a small box of matches, and, taking one of these, he broke the end off and rubbed in on the fore-sight very gently, careful not to let it explode, and succeeded in making the little projection so luminous that he could align it with the back-sight and the arab's body. then he pulled the trigger, and saw the dark figure leap forward and fall prone. saw it, indeed, but only in a fraction of a second, for he stole back to the sand ridge, slipping in another cartridge as he went. there he lay still a minute, listening and peering. presently a tall figure, which looked gigantic in the dim light, bounded close to him, with a gun in his left hand, and a spear in his right. he had evidently made a rush in the direction of the flash, and now stood, looking right and left for the man who had fired. harry almost touched him as he pressed the trigger, and the savage lay at his very feet. "i'll have his spoils any way," thought he; so he picked up the spear and remington, and got back to his men as fast as he could. the arab scouts, bothered by these two shots, were probably uncertain about the movements of the troops, and thought they had shifted their ground since they had marked them down, and possibly had flanking parties who might surround them. for they withdrew to a distance, fired a few shots in the direction where harry _had been_, which was quite away from the main body, and the outpost too, and then gave no more trouble for that night. in the course of the next day the water gave out entirely, and there was not a drop in the army beyond what some few far-seeing, self-denying men, had hoarded in their gourds. harry had not been one of these, and when the mid-day halt came he thought he was dying, and fell down in the glare of the sun, senseless. when he returned to life he found himself under the scanty shade of a mimosa tree, supported by the strong arm of a man whose sun-burned face and flowing beard, the loose robe which he wore, and the silk scarf which surrounded his tarboosh, with the pistol and dagger thrust into a shawl round his waist, seemed to betoken a native of the country; but the kindly eyes were those of an englishman, as were the murmured words, "poor lad! poor lad!" which fell on his ear. his brow was deliciously cool, and his throat less parched; and he recognised that it was the man whose wonderful journey to merv had so enthralled him when he read of it who had now spared the water, which was life, to damp his brow and give him respite; and he was certain that it was mr o'donovan, the newspaper correspondent, now accompanying the army of hicks pasha, who had saved his life. howard, who came up at the moment, was almost awe-struck at the sacrifice. "i have known one man allow his veins to be drained to supply the life- blood which might be infused into the veins of his friend; but what was that to sparing water _now_!" he said. the patience and discipline of the men during this trying time were admirable; there was no grumbling, no repining against their leaders; and just fancy how the sturdy briton would have growled! the officers did their best to cheer them up, assuring them that they were certain to reach the wells that afternoon, and always bearing an air of confidence in the future before them. but when they were alone together, and looked into each other's eyes, it was evident that they thought they were in a very desperate position. however, let them reach and carry el obeid without too great delay, and all would yet be right. their assurance to the men concerning the wells was verified; and when they approached the mud-holes which bore that name, discipline for once broke down. first the bashi-bazooks urged their fainting steeds to a gallop; then the infantry broke from their ranks and hurried forward; and had the enemy come down in force at that moment, they would have had an easy prey. but, oh horror! the puddles were choked with the putrefying bodies of men, horses, and camels, who, wounded in a recent fight near the spot, had crawled hither to drink, and die. thirst, however, overcame disgust; the contaminating carcases were dragged away, and many plunged their faces in the filthy pools. others had the self-control to dig or scrape holes for themselves, and wait till a purer water had percolated into them, when they slowly satisfied themselves and their faithful horses, and then managed to collect a supply for the next march. wonderful was the effect of the water, when at last a sufficiency for all had trickled out. the musicians found their instruments, and played once more; the outposts stepped off to their stations with alacrity; and all felt as if el obeid had already fallen. but several days' more terrible marching, with insufficient water, and many a death from sheer hardships, fatigue, or sunstroke, were to elapse before they neared the fortress. at last, however, the time came when, on starting at dawn, the guide assured the general that he should see the sun set behind its walls. after four hours' march one of the senior officers called harry. "you and your nag look pretty fit," he said; "that comes of being a light weight. is your water-bottle full?" "yes," replied harry; "i have not touched it since we left the last wells." "that is right; i want you to take six men out scouting. you see that rocky hill, with trees, out to the north?" "yes." "the general wants to know if the enemy are behind there in any force. go cautiously; and if you see no one, pass through the wood, and have a look on the other side of the hill; you can see from here that it cannot be very extensive on the top. but if you find arabs in the cover, try to draw them; and if you succeed, and they are in force, come back at once. but should they keep in cover, so that you cannot tell whether there are half a dozen or a considerable body, skirt round the hill, and see if there is any sign of a camp, or a large body of the enemy concealed by it. be cautious, so as not to get cut off. i have selected six of the best mounted bashi-bazooks, in case you have to make a bolt for it. of course, you see the importance of knowing what we have in our rear before attacking the place." "all right, sir," said harry; and in another minute he was trotting across the plain, followed by his six picturesque, irregular horsemen. of course he did not go fast, as it was most important to reserve the powers of the animal that carried him for the emergency of having to gallop for his life, which it was not at all improbable that he would be called upon to do; but half an hour's steady trot, the ground being fairly free from obstacles, and not so yielding as usual, brought the party to the foot of the hill. harry ordered his men to extend, and they threaded their way among the rocks in a line, working cautiously up towards the belt of trees. when they were within a hundred yards, however, a couple of shots were fired from the cover, and the bullets came pattering against the rocks. harry had impressed upon the men beforehand what to do in such a case: to retire slowly, halting to return the fire at intervals; and they did it pretty fairly, though not quite so steadily as could be wished. and when they were down on the level plain, a couple of them showed a decided inclination to try the mettle of their steeds in a race in the direction of the column, but harry managed to stop them; and, withdrawing a little, the party dismounted, and fired a few ineffective shots at the arabs, who were mounted, and came down towards them. there were but eight in the party, and harry could see no more behind them, so he concluded that it was clearly his duty to skirt the hill and see what was on the other side. besides, seven to eight was not such prodigious odds as to justify bolting without a bit of a fight, he thought. so he got his men together, and, drawing his sword, told them he meant to charge the moment the arabs were at the bottom of the hill, so as to overthrow them by the impetus before they could get any pace on, and trotting quietly on with this object, he got within thirty paces, and then, cramming his spurs in, went at them as they got clear of the declivity. and he showed good judgment, in spite of his inexperience; for he bowled one enemy over with the force of the shock, and a bashi- bazook on his right served another the same, and got a slice at him as he rolled over, which made the number of combatants level. but, unfortunately, the other bashi-bazooks did not charge home, but swerved, wheeled, withdrew a little, and began firing wildly. harry was engaged in single combat with another arab, who could have given him any number of points in sword-play, and presently made a drawing cut at him which would infallibly have taken off his head, had not his horse at that very quarter of a second suddenly fallen, shot dead by one of his own men. seeing their officer down, the bashi-bazooks fairly turned and galloped as hard as they could go, the arabs who were otherwise disengaged racing after them--five pursuing six; for the man who had been ridden down had got a broken thigh, the second was killed, and the third was now dismounting in order to polish off harry comfortably as he lay on the ground. but our friend, though he was pinned down by the body of his horse, which lay on his left leg, was not hurt, and his right arm was free. he drew his revolver, and when the arab stood over him he shot him in the breast. the man fell--but not dead--across harry, with whom he grappled, seeking to clutch him with the left hand by the throat and sabre him with the right. but harry caught his right wrist, and a struggle took place, in which each strained every muscle. in his efforts, harry got his leg from under the dead horse, the sand being loose; but as he did so his enemy got his sword-arm free and cut him over the head--not with much force, for he was weak and in a cramped position, but sufficiently to inflict a nasty wound. it was an expiring effort; he fell over helpless, the blood gushing from his mouth, and harry had no need to give him another barrel, which he was prepared to do, but rose to his feet to survey the scene of conflict. the bashi- bazooks and their pursuers could be seen in the distance, still going at a great pace. the horses of the broken-legged and the two dead arabs were careering about; his own head-dress had fallen off, which was a serious affair, though the afternoon was waning. but before putting it on he bound his head with a strip of cotton torn off the garment of the arab at his feet, for the cut on the scalp was bleeding freely. then, feeling very thirsty, he took the man's water- bottle, but it was empty. so, picking up his sword, he moved over to the other dead arab and tried his, and with better success; there was a refreshing draught in it, which harry was thus able to benefit by without infringing on his own supply. then he considered that he must get out of sight somewhere before the arabs returned, which they were sure to do, to look after their missing friends. he had now no horse, and to make his way on foot across the open plain by daylight was to ensure being seen by the returning horsemen and cut off. the best place to hide in would surely be the wood, where he felt certain that there were no more arabs, or they would have come out to join in the chevy. he would lie there till nightfall, and then endeavour to make his way to the column, though he did not feel like taking a long walk just at present. as he was going up the hill, however, he saw the arab with the broken leg lying helpless. the string which held his water-bottle had broken, and the gourd lay beyond his reach. the man glared like a wild beast when harry picked it up, and clutched at his waist-band, but there was no weapon in it. "don't fear me," said harry in arabic, holding out the gourd, which the other snatched viciously; "i am an englishman, and the english never hit a foe when he is down, unless he is very obstinate and unreasonable, and insists on biting or kicking." but the wounded man made no reply. it is to be feared that he only thought either that the speaker was a great liar, or else that his countrymen were great fools. it was evident that, so far from being touched, he would be the first to betray the secret of harry's hiding- place to his returning friends if he knew it. so as harry did not like to shoot him through the head, or draw his sword across his throat, he made a detour as if going across the desert, and did not commence the ascent until he was out of the other's sight. it was not very steep or very high, but harry had some difficulty in getting up it. he felt very weak, giddy, and queer, and had hardly got to the wood, and sunk down under the shade of trees behind a big black boulder, than he lost consciousness, for he had bled more than he knew for, and it was that which turned him faint. how long he lay without consciousness he did not know; and i daresay that you have noticed in story-books that people never _do_ know. indeed, it would take a very methodical person to look at his watch just as he was going off in a swoon, and refer to it again as he came to. harry forsyth certainly never looked at his watch, but he snatched his water-bottle, for one effect of loss of blood is to cause intense thirst. a quantity of liquid being taken out of the body. nature seems to point out in this way that the loss should be supplied; you know she is said to abhor a vacuum. if he had had all his senses about him, he would merely have taken a sup and held it in his mouth some time before swallowing it; but he was half dazed, and did not know where he was, and he yielded to the instinct of thirst and took a long, deep draught. for the present it was the best thing he could have done, for the effect was that he sank into a sound restoring sleep, which must have lasted many hours, for when he woke again the night was far advanced, and there were streaks of dawn in the east, and it was quite two hours to sunset when he had begun his nap. the wound in his head smarted, but otherwise he felt stronger and more refreshed, only hungry. he had crammed some biscuits into his kharkee jacket the day before, and these he ate, washing them down with what remained in the water-bottle, which he emptied without much compunction, as he reckoned that he would easily strike the trail of the column and come up with it in a short time. they had reckoned before he left that it was three hours' march at the longest to the wells within sight of el obeid, where they were to halt for the night, and he thought that he surely ought to be able to walk, alone and unencumbered, at least as fast again as the square moved, and he had little fear of not being in time for the attack. the place could hardly be carried by a _coup de main_; they would have to breach the walls with artillery first. of course he might be cut off on his road; that was a risk which could not be helped or avoided. directly he could see his way, he retraced his steps down the hill, and went round the base to the side where he had had the skirmish; but he did not look to see whether the dead arabs had been buried by their comrades, or to inquire after the welfare of his friend, the enemy with the broken leg. no, he stole along that part as quietly as he could. the orange, purple, violet, old gold flashes shone wider and higher, but the only way in which harry heeded them was by keeping the point, at which it was evident from the intensity of glory that the sun would rise, at his back, for he knew that el obeid lay due west of his present position. it was true that he had a compass attached to his watch chain, but for some unknown cause the thing had struck work a fortnight back, and now the black half, which ought always to have turned to the north, perversely remained where you choose to place it. but, after all, the sun in the morning and evening, and the polar star at night, will put you somewhere in the right direction, _when you can see them_. as for hitting off the exact track by which he had come on leaving the column, he could no more do that than on the sea, for there were no marks to guide the eye, and the surface of the plain was the same as water. one dead camel's skeleton is uncommonly like another, and they lay about in various directions, showing that caravans converged to or diverged from el obeid by different routes. when the sun burst forth with all that inconceivable grandeur which drives artists who visit the country to despair, and causes untravelled gazers on their pictures to accuse them of exaggeration, when their efforts have as a fact fallen far short of the reality, harry's eyes scanned the horizon in every direction for an enemy, but he was alone on the sandy expanse. no! what were those black figures moving along the side of yonder dune? his hand went to the butt of his revolver as he saw them. but he was presently reassured; they were only vultures and eagles over-gorged by the fruits of war; the only beings besides wolves and hyaenas, who pluck them. chapter eleven. a glimpse at a tragedy. as the power of the sun increased, harry forsyth found that his renewed strength was but partial, and though considerable compared to his weakness before that long sleep, was by no means up to his powers twenty-four hours previously, before he got that cut down through his scalp and lost all that blood. and soon the thirst began; but thirst was his familiar now, and he had learned to bear it as we do what is constantly recurring and inevitable. but as time passed on the thought would intrude upon his mind. was he going in the right direction? el obeid, indeed, must lie to the west, if the guides were to be depended upon, but would not the general diverge very likely on approaching the place? it could not be told beforehand from what side he would find it best to attack it, and harry might be going quite away from his friends. still, if he once caught a glimpse of the town, he should feel fresh confidence, for then he would certainly get round to the army, somehow, and in time for the attack. but this last consideration was not so important a matter with him as it had been some hours before. he did not feel particularly keen after fighting just now. a beefsteak and a pot of porter, and then to turn into a comfortable bed, with a lump of ice on the top of his head, would have formed his programme of perfect bliss. and yet, if his friends were in the thick of it, he would like to be there, and take his share in what was going, too. pshaw! he must not get nervous, he said to himself. unless the guides were treacherous, he must sight the minarets of el obeid soon _unless the guides were treacherous_! was there a chance of that? experience showed that there was always. and that professed friendly sheikh, who had come in with his scratches and told such a plausible tale, was he to be trusted? hark! what was that? dropping shots away to his right front. again, others; and now a volley; more single shots, increasing to a continuous roll of musketry. "they are at it, and i am not there!" harry cried aloud, as, forgetting fatigue, weakness, even thirst, he pressed forward in the direction of the firing. what surprised him most was that he heard no report of the krupp guns, no whish of rockets, no continuous grinding of machine-guns. why did they not use their artillery? half an hour brought him to rocks, herbage, and palm-trees, and here were empty preserved meat cans and other _debris_, showing that the force had bivouacked there the night before. and here, too, deep down in a rocky dell, he found a well of clear, bright, sweet, cool water! he flung himself down, plunged his face in the delicious liquid, and sucked in large draughts of the life-inspiring elixir. when he could drink no more he filled his water-bottle, and then, removing his pith helmet, he unbound the bandage which he had tied over his head. it had of course stuck, and the attempt to remove it was painful, but by wetting it freely he got it off, and then bathed his head and face, saturated his pocket handkerchief, and tied that on as a fresh bandage. then, much refreshed, he again hastened forwards, guided by the sound of the still continued firing. the character of the country was now completely changed. it became hilly, and the hills were precipitous and covered with inky black rocks, which lay so thickly about that it seemed as if a shower of enormous aerolites had fallen there. harry threaded his way amongst these, some way up a ravine, which wound to the right. the firing now seemed quite close; indeed, he could see smoke floating up to the dear sky. but surely el obeid could not be there, in the middle of a mountain pass, commanded on all sides by higher ground! the army must surely have been attacked on the march. he turned a corner, from which the valley ran for some distance straight, and came suddenly on volumes of smoke, pierced by incessant flashes of fire, not a thousand yards in his front, while every now and then a spent bullet came pattering against the rock behind which he crouched, trying to make out whether those nearest him were friends or foes. firing was also going on from the higher ground to right and left, and one or two of these points were visible from harry's present position. he had no field-glass, but he carried a small pocket telescope of great power, and adjusting this, and holding it steadily with some difficulty against the rock side, for the field of vision was very small, and his hand shook with excitement, he made out that the men holding these were certainly arabs. and presently some wounded men of those engaged in the valley to his front falling to the rear, and coming within five hundred yards of him, and clear of the smoke, he perceived that they were arabs too. and then the fearful truth broke upon him. the spent bullets which fell towards him came from his friends. the army had been enticed into the defile, round which the mahdi's troops were posted. when it was hopelessly entangled, a body of arabs, which had lain in ambush for the purpose, had closed in upon their rear to cut off retreat, and these were the men now in front of him. though he felt convinced that this must be the state of the case, harry did not give up all hope that the egyptians might fight their way through, though with severe loss, to the other end of the defile, and to ascertain this he went back, and then began mounting the higher ground, trying to work round to the front of the position. this he had to do very cautiously, to avoid falling in with groups of arabs, whom he was perpetually sighting. indeed, to get near the edge of the rocks commanding the defile without being observed was impossible, but by making a wide detour he kept clear of them. and thus, after the lapse of some hours, and with occasional difficult climbing, he reached a lofty point, from which he could distinguish the sides of the ravine held by the arabs and the pall of smoke which covered the doomed square, fighting like a lion at bay, surrounded by the hunters. for eagerly as he searched with his telescope in every direction he could perceive no line of advance or retreat; every point appeared to be barred by the enemy. there seemed to him only one hope; if general hicks could hold on till nightfall, perhaps he might push through backwards or forwards under cover of the darkness. so the hours passed, and the fusillade did not cease; only slackened at times to burst out again, till the sun sank down in all his glory, and the heavenly splendour of the after-glow bathed the sky, just as if all on earth was peace, goodwill, and happiness, and men had ceased to strain all the powers and talents which the god of mercy has bestowed upon them for their mutual benefit to one another's destruction; then sudden darkness, and silence broken only at long intervals by a fitful splutter of musketry. harry had marked a little cave, where two boulders leaned together, and into this he now crept, for the air was cold. here he lay, thinking with agony of his friends below there. how many were now living, and what chance had they of getting clear if they had survived thus far? and his own position, was that any better? nay, they indeed would die fighting, but he would either probably perish of want, or be barbarously murdered in cold blood. he still wore his uncle the sheikh's ring on his finger, and carried the silver case containing the parchment in his breast, but since he had thrown in his lot with the egyptian army, his faith in those talismans had become weakened. why, he did not know; it was an illogical feeling, for, of course, the circumstances had not altered. probably it was because it is impossible to trust to two diametrically opposite sources of aid at the same time. then his thoughts wandered to home, and his mother and sister, and their terrible anxiety at his long silence, and how they would not know whether or not to mourn him as dead. and then he dropped asleep. he woke at dawn, wondering how he could have slept when his comrades were in such sore straits. had they got away? in answer to his thought, the firing recommenced as before, and in the same quarter, answering "no!" all day long the noise of battle lasted, and harry watched in vain for a change in the situation. at one period a body of arabs came up and crossed the mountain from his rear, and he only just had time to conceal himself in his rocky hole to escape observation. but they pushed on, and went down into the fight; doubtless carrying ammunition. how harry got through that long day he could not remember. he made his water-bottle last, but he had no food beyond one biscuit. but anxiety for some time prevented his feeling hungry. there seemed no change in the situation, except that the volume of fire diminished perceptibly; and the cloud of smoke becoming thinner, he could, from one point, just distinguish something of the square. it was still existing, then, and might, perhaps, cut through that night, though it had failed to do so on the preceding. when darkness fell, harry crept back to his hole, and again he slept. but he awoke before dawn, roused by the cravings of hunger. it was of no use to stop where he was, and at the first glimpse of daylight he commenced his descent towards the plain, not by the way he had come, but on the opposite side, in the direction he calculated the remains of the army must take if they succeeded in pushing through. at the foot of the hill, in a rocky, barren-looking dell, not at all the place where you would expect to find it, he chanced upon a spring; and after drinking and replenishing his gourd, he sat down to try and collect his thoughts. and as he sat there he saw a solitary figure coming towards the spot. it was a camel, with an arab on his back. harry concealed himself behind a boulder and watched. the poor beast could hardly move, and, in spite of all urging, presently fell. the rider took certain articles from the saddle, and came to the spring, where he sat down, after drinking; and, pulling out a lump of bread, began to make his breakfast. the sight made harry feel ravenous; he was determined that he would have a share of that bread. he would probably have been justified in potting him with his pistol, which he might easily have done, for he was almost certainly a hostile arab with despatches. but he might belong to a friendly tribe, and if he were an enemy, harry could not murder him like that. he had a remington rifle, so harry must pounce upon him, or he would not have a chance. he did it rather cleverly, and the meal of the arab was suddenly interrupted by finding the muzzle of a revolver within a yard of his head, while, at the same time, his rifle, which rested against a rock beside him, was thrown to some distance. "throw away your sword and pistol, or i will shoot," said harry. "but do that, and share your bread with me, and i will not hurt you." "my hygeen is dead; i am weary and wounded; and the chance is yours," said the arab. "what have i to do but to submit? it is fate," drawing his highly ornamented and damascened pistols from his waist-band, for he was a considerably dressed arab, this one. these he laid aside; then he took out his sheathed scimitar, but appeared to hesitate. "how do i know," he said, "that you will not kill me when i am completely disarmed?" "why should i?" replied harry. "could i not have shot you from behind the rock?" "fool you were, not to!" cried the arab with the bound of a wild beast, springing up, flashing the blade out, and uttering the taunt, which in his own idiom was but a couple of words, simultaneously. so quick and sudden was the movement that it might well have deceived the eye and paralysed the nerve. but the very start made harry press the trigger with his fore-finger. even so, and only a yard off, he was as likely to have fired over his shoulder as to have hit him. but he did not. the point of the scimitar just left the scabbard as the owner of it went down on his back motionless as a wax figure. harry was perfectly bewildered; he was not conscious of having fired; yet, there lay the arab, with his face blackened with the powder, and a small hole in the forehead just between the eyes. i hope you will not think the worse of harry forsyth for what he did next. war makes the feelings very callous, for the time being, at all events, with regard to certain things. besides, harry had had nothing but biscuits to eat for one hundred and seventy-two hours, about, and not many of them. he pounced upon the bread and devoured it. what to do next? the conviction had now forced itself upon him that there was no hope for the egyptian army, but that it was doomed to certain destruction. there was no possibility of surrender; it was war to the knife, for the arabs neither took nor gave quarter. and thus his mind reverted to the object of his throwing in his lot with that body, which he had in a great measure lost sight of in the company of howard and the excitement of a totally new life. but, after all, he had not come out to egypt and the soudan to fight but to discover daireh and, if possible, gain possession of the will. the only chance for him to accomplish this now was obviously through finding his uncle, the sheikh burrachee, and to do this he must follow the course he had pointed out: find a dervish or fakir, and show the ring and parchment. of course the efficacy of these might all be the delusion of a crazy brain, but he must take his chance of that. it was certain, however, that he would never get the chance of a hearing in his present costume. the helmet, the uniform kharkee jacket, would insure his being shot or cut down by the first follower of the mahdi who saw him. they must be discarded, and the dead arab lying hard by would supply him with a disguise. for, instead of going nearly naked, like so many of them, this man had a smart turban and a long garment, which came a good bit below the knees, bound round his waist with a sort of shawl of gay colours. so, after having taken his life and his breakfast, harry now proceeded to despoil him of his clothes. there was a fair supply of cartridges in a bag which the ill-fated arab had worn over his shoulder, so harry took that and the rifle, and presently he came out of the glen in complete arab costume, his european clothes being made into a bundle and shoved under a rock. the only article of dress he had retained was a light linen waistcoat, in which were pockets containing the silver case with the parchment, his watch, and his money. the dead man's pistols, though ornamental, had flint locks and were heavy, so he left them, but the scimitar he stuck, together with his own revolver, in the waist-shawl, and the rifle he slung over his shoulder. then he went to the hygeen, or camel, hoping that water might revive it, but the poor beast was past that--its eyes were already glazing. all this time the roll of musketry in the distant ravine still continued, and with a heavy heart he turned from the spot, and went out into the wilderness. his idea was boldly to accost the first living being he met, and ask the way to el obeid, intending to represent himself as a merchant whose caravan had been attacked and robbed by nubian blacks. he knew that he would be recognised as a european by his speech, and probably arrested as a spy, but then would be the time to test the efficacy of his uncle's talisman. it might be inefficacious, or he might perish in the desert before he met any one, but he did not give up all hope of a better fate. his being sent out on that scouting expedition, wounded, and so prevented from rejoining the ill-fated column, was so extraordinary that he felt that his hour was not yet come. for it almost seemed to him as if a miracle had been performed in his behalf. he had not gone a hundred yards before he noticed several black specks in the distant sky. nearer and larger they came, till he could distinguish two eagles and five vultures hovering lower and lower, till at length they settled down in the dell by the spring which he had just left. and he shuddered. how soon he might lie, helpless and dying, and watching these loathsome birds of prey swooping towards him! his idea was to keep bearing to the west, which was the direction in which he knew that el obeid lay, unless indeed he had passed to one side of it, which he did not think probable, or he should most likely have seen it from the mountain-top. any other high ground he came to he would ascend, so as to get as wide a view as possible. and so he tramped on towards the declining sun till it sank; then he lay down in the solitude and darkness, and fatigue gave him sleep. when dawn awoke him he was beyond the sound of the firing, or else it had ceased. and though he knew well enough that this was no good sign, the silence was less harrowing. he resumed his weary march till the sun reached its full power. there were some stunted bushes a little out of his track, and he made for them, hoping to find water. in this he was disappointed; so taking a sparing pull at his water-bottle, he crawled under one of them, seeking its shade. there was a slight rustle, and a snake rose on its tail, and darted at him with its forked tongue, but, just missing him, glided away. harry then looked more carefully, but there was no other, and he rested. another escape! did he, then, bear a charmed life? after about an hour, he grew restless. the sand in that part lay in high ridges or dunes, some of them at least a hundred feet high, and he hoped that on surmounting the next beyond him he would come in sight of the town, or at least of some oasis, with water and human habitations, and with each recurring disappointment he became only the more eager to reach the sand-hill beyond. but he was becoming very faint, and the wound in his head throbbed to agony. he was at last so "_beat_" that he was on the point of letting himself sink down on the sand to struggle no more, when suddenly there, straight before him, lay the object of his desires! surely not a mile off, but say a mile and a half, rose towers, fortifications, minarets, palm-trees, and, most grateful sight, all this was reflected in a broad clear sheet of water. "el obeid!" he cried aloud, forgetting everything else in the joy of the moment. he had never heard that it was on a lake, and thus his wildest expectations were surpassed. no need now to torture himself by refraining from his water-bottle. he seized and drained it, and then falling on his knees he thanked heaven for this deliverance. for though, when considered calmly at a distance, he had recognised the perils which would attend his adventure in entering the place, which was now the head-quarters of the mahdi and his fanatics, they seemed as nothing compared with the immediate prospect of perishing of want and thirst, alone, in the desert. rising to his feet again he hurried onwards, but the place was much farther off than it had first seemed, for when he had gone on for a full twenty minutes, with speed inspired by hope, he seemed to be no whit nearer. on again, plunging through the loose sand, reeling, staggering. a little more effort; he must be nearing it, though it did not seem so; another ten minutes, say, and he would be able to plunge into that delicious water! and so he fought on, when suddenly all vanished. he rubbed his eyes and looked again. had sudden blindness fallen upon him? no, he could see the sand-hills as plainly as possible. but the city, the fortifications, the minarets, the water, which were so distinct a minute ago, where were they? all turned to sand? that could not be. he was giddy, and must have altered his course without knowing it. he looked all round him, bewildered. sand, sand, sand, and nothing else. then the truth flashed across his memory: the mirage! towers and water were as unreal as the magician's money in the "arabian nights' entertainments," which turned to paper in the drawer where it was. for the first time harry was stricken with utter despair; without water, without food, alone in the trackless desert, exposed to a fierce sun, he fell, and lay motionless for awhile. then up and on blindly, in what direction he knew not. his tongue swelled; his throat seemed choked and breathing was difficult. soon he lost consciousness of everything but a sense of distress and pain; and after awhile even that left him, and he fell senseless. chapter twelve. abdul achmet. a body of twenty arab warriors mounted on camels was crossing the desert, and as they rode in indian file, and from ten to twenty paces apart, the string was a long one. probably they did not belong to a tribe that had taken part in any of the numerous routs, assaults on strong places, and massacres, which had supplied so large a portion of the mahdi's troops with modern arms of precision, for those of them who carried guns had those long-barrelled, short-stocked weapons, which are familiar to us in pictures, and which are so admirable from an artistic, and so worthless from the wimbledonian, point of view. but the majority carried spears instead of guns, and they were all armed with swords and pistols. whatever the actual number of days and hours which elapse between the dates of an arab's birth and death, his life seems a short one reckoned by sensations and incidents, for he spends so very large a proportion of it in sitting on the hump of a camel as it toils across a country of maddening sameness. the distances he has to travel are so vast, and his means of progression so limited! perhaps that is the reason why, when he does come across an occasion of excitement, he is so terribly in earnest. he is months and months without the chance of an emotion, accumulating explosive forces all the while; and when he at last goes off, he does it like dynamite. and yet, perhaps, the child of the desert, if he visited our shores, might point to a ploughboy plodding up and down, with one foot in the furrow, from dawn till dusk, and ask if _his_ task were lively. or, still more forcibly, he might take us into an office in a dingy city street where copying clerks sat at their monotonous work, and put it to us how many minutes in the week we supposed _they_ lived. but still, though it might be difficult to deny that he had reason on his side, there is a certain dreariness about the endless sandy plains which renders it difficult to imagine it possible for a human being to spend his days in traversing them without going mad. but these present travellers did not seem to mind it. some of them solaced themselves with the chibouque, as they sat with the comfort which can only be acquired after years of practice on the humps of their camels; the others, though silent and quiescent, did not look bored. presently the one in front was attracted by an object a little out of his path, and turned to examine it more closely. then he spoke to his hygeen, which knelt down, whereupon he dismounted, and went up to the figure of a man lying on the sand. there had been a great deal of fighting and carnage, beyond the ordinary blood-feuds between the different tribes, going on for some months in the country, and the bodies of men were as commonly found as those of camels used to be. so it may seem surprising that the arab should have taken the trouble to dismount for such a trifle. but this body was dressed, and had weapons--was worth despoiling, in fact. this particular child of the desert was not more greedy than others; he was a man in some authority, and rich according to his own ideas and those of his people. but still, one does not like to see articles of value unappropriated, and one might as well have them as any one else. such sentiments might animate you or me, let alone a gentleman who had been brought up to regard all human beings who did not belong to his own particular set much as we look upon beavers, foxes, hares, grouse, pheasants, as creatures that are provided by providence for our sport or profit. the body lay on its breast with the arms stretched out; the head a little turned, so that the right cheek lay on the sand. and when the arab bent over it, it did not look, he thought, quite dead. well, if he were not, a man with such a good gun as that ought to be when a better man wants it. but still, it has been shrewdly observed that there is a deal that is human about human nature. the arab might not improbably be in the same position some day, and would he not then require aid himself? and then the koran enjoined true believers to succour the distressed who fell fainting in the desert; and this was an educated man, who read his koran; and a religious man, according to his lights, who obeyed its precepts when he happened to remember them, and temptation to the contrary was not too strong. if he had known that the property before him belonged to a pig who did not believe the prophet, it might have been different; but he could not tell that, and he turned harry forsyth over to give him a drink of water. as he did so he saw the ring on his finger, and his humane intention vacillated. he had a fancy for a ring like that. never mind; he would compromise matters, he thought--take the ring, rifle, and cartridges first, and give him a drink afterwards. but when he took the hand for the purpose of drawing the ring off it, and saw the stone close, he started back with the exclamation, "allah is great!" and let the hand drop. "he bears the signet!" he said to his followers; "and he lives. we must not leave him. we must take him on to el obeid." "the fakir's oasis is close at hand," said another; "let us bear him there. the holy man will know best what to do with him, and the shorter the journey the better for his life." "you speak the words of wisdom, meouf," said the leader; "let us lift him on to your camel; it has the easiest pace." a cynic might imagine that meouf knew this, and that his claims to being a good samaritan were affected by the fact that he would have the trouble of carrying the helpless man, and his wish to do so for as short a distance as possible. but we won't be cynics, and we'll give him all the credit for his forethought which we can. the fakir's oasis was less than an hour's ride off for a good camel. harry, when some water was poured down his throat, showed decided signs of life, though not regaining consciousness. he was lifted on the camel, and carried forward, his property being scrupulously respected with one exception. the leader of the party considered that, as he was an invalid, and therefore, for the time being, a non-combatant, he could have no immediate use for a remington rifle, or the cartridges belonging to it, and these he therefore made free to borrow for an indefinite period. it was a small fee for him to pay, after all, for his life. the oasis they were taking him to was one not known to european travellers, and indeed but few native merchants were aware of its existence, for it was out of the usual caravan routes to el obeid, from which place it was not more than two hours' journey distant. it was a little patch of fertility in the midst of a plain of undulating sand, and appeared a hundred-fold more luxuriant from the contrast. there was actual herbage on which some goats were feeding; a small patch was even under cultivation, and corn grown there. fine acacias lent a grateful shade, but not equal to that afforded by a splendid fig-tree which overhung a deep cool well. the oasis received its name from its having long been the residence of a fakir who was accounted a sort of prophet, and commanded great reverence. his successor, abdul achmet, who now lived there, was also in high esteem among the followers of the mahdi, to whose cause he had given his adherence. there were three houses, all inhabited by priests or dervishes, of whom abdul was the chief, and a small mosque, all built of sun-dried bricks, which, retaining the look of clay, are habitually termed by european travellers _mud_. but this gives rather a false impression, as a mud hut properly consists of wattles with mud plastered all over them, which is a different thing from one regularly built, though the bricks are sun-dried instead of being baked in a kiln. what is the use of having a tropical sun if you do not make it do some fire-work for you beyond nearly roasting you to death? abdul achmet received the party, several of whom he knew, under the shade of his fig-tree. harry forsyth was carefully handed down from the camel and laid before the dervish, and the signet-ring was shown to him. whereupon he said that it was quite right to bring him on to him, and that he would take care of him; and he had him carried into his house and attended to. the travellers watered themselves and their camels, and were then treated to dates, pipes, and coffee. they rested thus in the oasis, and benefited, it is to be hoped, by the companionship of their clerical entertainers, till the hottest part of the day was passed, and then, once more mounting their camels, went on their way to el obeid--an easy march for the evening. days passed before harry forsyth was conscious of anything; then for weeks he had no sense of life but pain and weariness, with intervals of blissful rest. he had no doctor but the first lady who ever practised-- dame nature, who sometimes, strange to say, pulls her patients through almost as well as if she had a diploma. but he was well nursed, and there is a great deal in that. at length there came a time when he knew that people moved about and talked, and that he took food and was very weak; but he did not know where he was, nor cared. he had visions, and half knew they were visions; sometimes these were rather pleasant but more often very much the other way. what was the matter with him? as no medical man diagnosed his case, it is impossible to say, though that he was for some time in a high state of fever we may safely assume. he had gone through a good deal, and had had a cut through the scalp of his head right down to the skull. at last he woke one day after a long sleep and recognised his nurse, whom he took to be a demon--a very nice, amiable one, with gleaming white teeth, who grinned from ear to ear with pleasure to see him better. at last it dawned upon him that it was absurd to suppose an evil spirit would sit there fanning the flies away, or would put cooling drinks to his lips; and he jumped abruptly to the opposite conclusion, that there were such things as black angels, and this was one of them. though perhaps nearer the mark, he was not quite right yet, for his kind and careful nurse was but a negress--a slave from the interior. black, white, or brown, women are always more patient and tender when anything is really the matter than men, bless them! it was rather a shame to have called her fatima, because that leads one to expect rather prettier lips and a fairer complexion; not that this incongruity ever struck harry, even when he came to know it, which was not for some time yet. for by that time he had come to associate his nurse's homely features with all that was pleasant and solacing. he did not know where he was, nor had he any clear perception of past events. he had been very uncomfortable, and there was a dim impression upon his mind of past misfortunes, but he had no care or curiosity with regard to past or future; he was at ease for the present, and that was all that he felt signified. one day when he opened his eyes after a doze, expecting to see fatima, he found in her usual place a tall man, with a long white beard, and shaggy white eyebrows, which contrasted curiously with his dark skin, giving him something of an unearthly appearance. "oh, long-expected one," he said, when he saw that harry noticed him, "to whom allah hath at length restored some degree of understanding, know that you are welcome and among friends. this writing found upon you tells me that you are he of whom the sheikh burrachee has often spoken, the feringhee destined to bring his benighted and hitherto accursed race to the acceptance of the true faith. the sheikh is beyond om delgal, far away up the bahr el abiad, amongst the heathen whom the all-bountiful one has given to the true believer for bondsmen. but he will return when the mahdi--his name be revered--shall need his services. then shall you join him with renewed health and strength. in the meantime, i, a humble servant of allah and his prophet, and one whose eyes have been opened to the divine mission of the mahdi, which the turks--may their tongues swell--are slow to receive, even i will expound to you the mysteries of the only true faith, and from this day forth consider my house, and what poor goods i may possess, as your own." harry forsyth quite followed this speech, and knew that the sheikh burrachee alluded to was a relative whom he had seen at some time, and was to rejoin. for anything recalled to him by words he remembered at the time, though it passed from his brain the moment afterwards, neither pleasing him nor distressing him. his mind was like a lake, and ideas suggested in any way resembled clouds passing rapidly above it, reflected for a minute on the surface, and then gone. it was rather a curious thing that what arabic he had picked up had not passed from him; on the contrary, it sounded more familiar to him than it had done before. probably that was because of his surroundings at the time of recovering consciousness, and of arabic being the first sound which fell on his ears. he replied coherently enough to his fakir host, though his voice was very feeble. he thanked him for his present hospitality, and for the care he had taken of him during his illness, and he expressed the pleasure it would give him to see the sheikh burrachee when he came back from the equator. and then fatima brought him food, which he turned to like a baby to its bottle. from that day abdul achmet paid him constant and long visits, reading long passages from the koran, and expounding to him that, as mahomet had been sent to convert idolaters, and had accomplished his task, so now the mahdi had been appointed to teach the truth to europeans and other civilised races. the means to be employed were the same in both cases, and were simple, consisting merely of the extermination of all who would not be convinced. "the great and indeed only object is the overthrow of infidelity," he explained; "and if all infidels are killed there will no longer be such a thing." "qed," replied harry forsyth, in a tone of assent which pleased the fakir mightily. "qed" was not intelligible to him, but it sounded very well indeed, he thought. sometimes harry listened to these long tirades, and sometimes he did not, the latter reception of them being very much more frequent than the former. but he looked politely attentive, and that was sufficient. he was the best listener when abdul achmet entered into personal details concerning his heroes, in which he occasionally indulged; as when he told how the mahdi was brought up as a carpenter at dongola; how he first came to know of his mission; of the holy men who had taken up his cause; and of his residence and education amongst them. and then he described his miraculous success, and what a boon even in the present life the spread of his authority would be. in proof of which he recounted the extortions and cruelties of the turks, and how the taxation of the soudanese was so excessive as to ruin the country itself, while the bribes exacted by the officials who were appointed to rule the country made it impossible to obtain justice. he also waxed very indignant over the unnatural folly and wickedness of those powers who sought to interfere with the slave trade, which he looked upon as a perquisite provided by providence for the arab race. indeed the fakir showed himself to be a man of some thought and shrewdness, and some people to hear him speak might have fancied that secular interests, such as improving their condition in life by throwing off a burdensome yoke, and maintaining the considerable profits which they derived from imposing such yokes on other people, who happened to be black and to have thick lips, and woolly hair, had something to do with the aptitude shown by the soudanese to accept the new religion. but abdul achmet was an honest fanatic, and neither intended to insinuate this nor thought it. on the whole, harry much preferred to hear his black nurse fatima talk. she told him about her childhood, when she remembered playing about among trees and in long grass with other little darkies; and their fright when they heard the lions roar; and how once, when she had wandered away alone, she saw two fiery eyes glaring at her from a bush, and ran home, expecting to be pounced upon and eaten all the way. and she described her parents' hut, with a low entrance, into which the family had to crawl on their hands and knees. then, while she was still quite little, her tribe declared war against another tribe, and all the young men went out to battle, and were defeated, and fled back to their village to make a last stand in defence of their wives and children. and she described a night attack, and the horrors of a massacre, the burning of the huts, and the carrying off of the younger women, the youths, and children; how they were sold to arab merchants, and underwent a fearful desert march; and how she cried for her mother at first, but was bought by a man who treated her kindly, and was happy, and forgot her native language and habits. all this she told in a simple, artless way, and when she found that it amused her invalid she repeated it again and again. but his interest did not flag for the repetition. he was like a little child who has a favourite story, and cries, "again!" when told it, preferring it to risking a new one, which might not prove so good. and time flew by, and harry forsyth remained in this state of semi- imbecility, free from anxiety about his mother and sister at home, forgetful of all but his animal comforts and the superficial interest he felt in such prattle as this. his bodily health improved before his mental activity; perhaps it was owing to the freedom from worry consequent upon this lethargic state of mind that he was able to pick up some strength. but he became able to move about and help himself, and wander out to the fig-tree over the well, which the delighted fatima thought extremely clever of him. one day, as he sat in his favourite spot, thinking of nothing in particular, a body of horsemen rode up to the oasis, and the leader of it dismounting came up to him, and held out his hand english fashion, though he spoke in arabic. "harry," he said, using the english accent for the name, however, "you remember me?" harry looked at him in a troubled way, and pressed his hand on his forehead. "i told you that you would come to me, for the inward voice, which never errs, declared it to me," he went on. "struggle as you might, you could not avert your destiny. our family is called to do a great work. i have commenced it, and it will be yours to complete it. i am growing old, but i can still strike a blow for the cause. may allah grant me to die when my right arm is powerless: to die on the field of battle, in the moment of victory, with my face to the foe! yes, you are clearly destined to lead the hosts of islam. have you not come out to me alone, leaving home and friends? have you not traversed the desert without guide, still alone; and though struck down by an unknown hand, have we not met? have you not miraculously learned the language of the country to which destiny called you? were you not brought when found, to all appearance dead, to the fakir, abdul achmet, the one man of all others i would have directed you to? and the blind fools of europe would call this chance, as they do everything which they cannot attribute to their own forethought or cunning." "yes, i know you," said harry, at length; "you are my uncle ralph, the sheikh burrachee. but i think i have been ill, and everything is like a dream to me. were there not a signet-ring, and a paper in a silver case, and jewels of value which you gave me?" at that instant abdul achmet came out of the mosque, and the sheikh burrachee advanced to meet him, leaving harry more bewildered and disturbed in mind than he had been since he was brought to the oasis; and that night he had a relapse of fever. it did not prove serious, however, and when it passed away his mind was clearer than before, though he still seemed like one in a dream, and the past events of his life appeared to him as having happened to some one else. on the morning after his arrival the sheikh burrachee left, but some weeks afterwards he returned with an escort and an easy-paced hygeen to take harry away with him. he took the announcement of the journey with the placid indifference which now characterised him, only at the moment of starting he showed reluctance to part from his black nurse, fatima. but whether the sheikh bought her, or only borrowed her, it was arranged that she should go too, and harry was perfectly reconciled. the hygeen's motions were wonderfully smooth for a camel, and the journey was made easy to him; but still it was trying in his weak state and after so long a confinement. but it did not last long, and then they reached a town of flat-roofed houses, and entered a spacious courtyard with a portico round it, through which were the living-rooms. there were soldiers here and there under this portico, some of them wearing the turban, but the majority having a skull-cap of blue and white on their heads, and a sentry over the gate had one of them too. those who wore the bernouse, and most of them did, had similar blue and white patches sewn on different parts of it. these were the mahdi's colours; i don't know why, for he was never a third trinity man, and had no right to their blazer. like his impudence! it is true that the colours were generally in dice, not regularly striped. some of the soldiers did not show the colours, but that was because they had nothing to put them on unless they painted their bodies. passing through a large room with a divan round it, and pushing aside a curtain at the farther end, you came upon another and smaller court, which was a garden with a fountain in the middle, well filled with date and other palms. there was a portico round this too, and this was destined to be the place where harry forsyth was to pass the greater part of his life for some time, for it was the dwelling or private part of his uncle's establishment. crazy renegade as he was, the sheikh burrachee had some old ideas of comfort which the wild life he had led had not dissipated, and being a rich man for the country where he was and the people he had adopted, he could indulge any little fancies he had; and he had made his house both handsome and comfortable. according to the simple ideas of the natives, indeed, he was possessed of enormous wealth, and this reputation went some way towards the superstitious regard in which he was held. this was the place which harry now entered, and reposing on a divan, low, with soft cushions on it, and close to the portico, he looked upon the green leaves and listened to the trickle of the fountain, while fatima brought him a glass of delicious lemonade, squeezed from the fresh-plucked fruit; and the fatigues of the journey were forgotten, and he fell into a long and refreshing sleep. his curiosity, however, had not been one whit aroused; he took everything as a matter of course. perhaps he was a character in the "arabian nights," and not harry forsyth at all--who could tell?--all seemed so strange and unreal. chapter thirteen. an unexpected meeting. gradually harry forsyth came back to real life, as it were. first of all he had an uneasy feeling that something was wrong, but he wanted a word or an event to strike the key-note of his memory. his uncle never spoke of home matters; he was kind, and even affectionate, but was much away. he would come out into the large courtyard in the early morning, mount the horse which was held ready for him with an activity worthy of a much younger man, and scour off at a gallop with a troop of his wild retainers racing behind him. he might come back that evening, or not for a week. and when he was at home he was very busy, seeing different people, who came and went in a great hurry, and writing despatches, which mounted orderlies, or what answered for such, were always in waiting to carry. and when they were together he talked of the wild life of the desert; of the sport to be had further up in the black country, but never of england. he spoke arabic always, even when they were alone, and never lapsed into his native tongue. yet his face and the tone of his voice disturbed harry, causing him to make an effort to get his mind clear. at length, one morning he awoke with a distinct remembrance of his mother and sister, and the knowledge that he was far away from them in a foreign land, and had not had any communication with them for a long time. and he felt a strong desire to relieve their anxiety, and let them know he was alive, and also to have news of them. but he could not remember what he had come to this part of the world for. he knew that he had wanted to trace his uncle; but why? he had come out to egypt in the service of a firm of merchants, and the name of the head of it was williams; he was confident so far. but had he not returned home since then? and why had he sought out his uncle? surely not on business connected with the firm, and certainly not because he had turned mohammedan and wanted to live like an ostrich. a little longer, and his connection with hicks pasha's force, and the disastrous termination of that expedition, came clearly back to him; and with it the necessity of keeping silent about the matter, for he now wanted to get away to a civilised place like cairo, at all events, if not to england. for though he did not know that the british government had taken up the egyptian quarrel, and that war had actually been waged between them and the soudanese in the neighbourhood of the red sea, he knew that an officer of the late expedition would be looked upon with suspicion, if not treated as an open enemy. neither was he sure how his uncle would bear the disappointment if he found out that he had been in the ranks of his enemies--the egyptians. though he need not have worried himself about that, for the sheikh burrachee would only have thought it the method which destiny had taken to bring him to him. as forsyth's mind grew sounder his body kept pace with it, and he was able at last to mount a horse and take short rides; and it amused him to saunter about the bazaar occasionally, though it was not a very extensive or grand one; indeed, the poet who wrote "man wants but little here below," would have been pleased to see how completely an arab, as a rule, verifies his theory. one day he, (harry, not the poet) was puzzled by some round balls of a frothy appearance, which he could not make out; could it possibly be soap? what sale could there be for such an article? the shopman might just as well have offered straps and stay-laces to the population around him. but it did not smell like soap, either; indeed, the odour was extremely unpleasant. "that is not an object worthy of your attention," said the owner of the shop, who sat on a cushion in the midst of his goods. "i have a preparation for the hair which is infallible for restoring it if it falls off from age or sickness, for example, and which is as agreeable to the nose as beneficial to the scalp. those balls of mutton fat are only fit for the poor who can afford no better." "oh, it is for the hair, then," observed harry; "and what makes it look all frothy like that?" "it is prepared by chewing, and women are employed for the purpose; they cheat me sometimes, and swallow a portion. but deign to come up, oh illustrious one, and partake of a cup of coffee or a glass of sherbet and a chibouque, and allow me the unparalleled and illustrious honour of showing you my poor goods." harry consented, not that he wanted to purchase anything, but because something about the man's face struck him as familiar, and he was anxious to remember where and under what circumstances he had seen him before. "i have here a french pistol, a revolver with six chambers, which i can offer your excellency almost for nothing, with ammunition to match. it is a weapon which will save your life a hundred times by its accuracy and the rapidity of its fire; and what says the wise man? `life is sweet, even to the bravest.'" and all the time he was talking, harry forsyth kept thinking, "where have i seen him? what circumstance does his face recall?" as he left the shop his eye fell on a bale of goods yet unopened, and on it he read the name *daireh*! it acted like a match on a gas-jet. he had come out to seek the will, and daireh was the man who had abstracted it! and as he walked home, he remembered everything which had been a puzzle to him. being still weak, he now grew as much excited as before he had been apathetic, and had his uncle been at home he would have gone to him with the whole story at once. but the sheikh was away, superintending the drill of certain european ruffians in the mahdi's service who were to man some krupp guns taken from the egyptians, and harry had a forced respite in which to collect his ideas and frame them in the manner best calculated to gain his uncle's attention and assistance. and now his anxiety about those at home who had no doubt long mourned him as dead grew more poignant, and remembering his uncle's affection for his sister, he regretted not having confided in him and begged him to get a letter conveyed to some point sufficiently civilised to have a post. he tried to find out from fatima how long he had been laid up at the fakir's residence, and at first she was puzzled. but at last she gave him a clue. "the nile had risen and gone back," she said, "when you were brought to us as dead. it rose again, and fell again, and now it will soon rise once more." two years! was it possible? nearly two years! and he wondered whether his people had gone into mourning for him, or if they still hoped on. he next made inquiries about daireh, setting fatima to gossip for him and tell him the result. he seemed to bear a shockingly bad character, and to be very unpopular. the fact was that he was a money-lender, and his extortions caused him to be hated. harry was glad of this, since it promised to make his task easier. the sheikh burrachee returned, and was rejoiced to find his nephew so much improved in health. harry took the first opportunity of opening his budget. "do you mind my speaking to you in english?" he said. "i have got to say things which i should find it difficult to explain in a foreign language, which i have very imperfectly picked up, and which may not have idioms answering to the english." "i do not love the english tongue," said the sheikh, using it, however. "but what things do you allude to?" "family matters, affecting my mother and all of us--you, perhaps." "when i last went to england," said the sheikh, "i took a final farewell of all relatives, and of everything belonging to the country from which i shook off the dust on my feet, you only excepted, for i saw that you, too, were called out of the seething hotbed of corruption, which is called civilisation, to the natural life of man. why disturb the ashes of the buried past?" "i love my mother," replied harry; "and you, her brother, once loved her too." his uncle bowed his head. "true," he said; "speak on." "and besides," added harry, "justice is justice all the world over, and crime should not prosper. richard burke, your brother, died at his home in ireland. he had made two wills, one leaving the bulk of his fortune to his step-son, stephen philipson, and another, and later one, made on the occasion of philipson turning out badly, leaving him a modest allowance, and bequeathing the bulk of his fortune between his sister and reginald kavanagh. this will, which would make my mother and beatrice comfortable, as they have been brought up to esteem comfort, was not to be found; neither was the other. a dishonest clerk, forced to fly the country because a forgery he had committed must soon be discovered, stole them both out of the lawyer's office where he was employed, for the purpose of levying a sum for giving them to one or the other of the parties interested. but the police were too close on his traces, and he had to fly without a chance of making use of either document. he was an egyptian, and went home; but not feeling safe at alexandria or cairo, and having connections in the soudan, he came to this country. if both wills are destroyed, part of the property comes to you." "and the cause has need of funds!" exclaimed the sheikh. "but how shall we find this dog?" "i saw him the other day in the bazaar; his name is daireh." "daireh, the money-lender, against whom i have had so many complaints, but who always manages to have the law on his side?" "the very same." the sheikh burrachee clapped his hands; an attendant came. "bring hither daireh, the egyptian usurer," said the sheikh; "and keep him guarded in the outer court." the arab inclined his head and departed without a word. it may seem to you that harry forsyth had recovered his wits very rapidly, and this, indeed, was the case. up to a certain point his progress had been very slow, but that once passed he had come to himself almost at a bound. but as for his clear statement to his uncle, that he had prepared beforehand with great care, writing it out and learning it by heart, feeling that it was necessary to be as concise as possible. a thoughtful expression came over the sheikh burrachee's face, quite different from the wild faraway look which now ordinarily characterised it. "and so richard is dead," he murmured to himself; "and mary has known poverty in a land where there is no kindness for the poor; where all is hard and cold, and people can no longer love or even hate. and this fellow has robbed her. by my beard he shall smart for it!" when the sheikh swore by his beard the matter was serious, and if daireh had heard him he would not have walked along between the guards who arrested him with so impudent an air. he had so often been had up, and had got the best of his accusers, that he felt quite safe. for he knew well the customs which had the force of laws in the country, and took care not to violate them, though straining every point to his advantage. and the sheikh burrachee was just, and however much he might sympathise with the complainant, would not allow his judgment to be affected by his feelings. it was indeed a rough-and-ready justice, not always consistent, and such as would not meet entire approval from any civilised persons; he went on the principle that when he could not do what he would, he did what he could, to set things straight according to his judgment and the evidence before him, adopting the habits of the people with whom he had identified himself, who had not the horror of physical pain--for others--or the employment of it to elicit truth, which we have. he rose from the divan by the garden where he had been sitting with harry, and, beckoning to the latter to follow him, proceeded to the outer and larger hall, where he took his seat, with his nephew at his side. and hardly had he done so when daireh was brought in. he salaamed with a confident air, which expressed, "who will find me tripping? it would take a clever fellow to do that. they are willing enough to agree to my terms when they want to borrow, but when i claim my own, there is all this bother and outcry, and i am dragged before the sheikh forsooth!" but he looked more serious when the sheikh burrachee said to him-- "daireh, where are the two wills you stole from burrows and fagan, the dublin lawyers, when you ran away from their employ?" surely such an incongruous question was never put in an arab town in the heart of africa by a sheikh dressed in bernouse and turban, with a jewel-hilted yataghan at his side, sitting cross-legged on a cushion. no wonder daireh was flabbergasted; such a thunderbolt out of a clear sky has seldom fallen upon any man. "your mightiness is mistaken," he stammered. "i have lived, earning an honest livelihood as a poor merchant, at khartoum and berber, alexandria and cairo. but what is dublin? i know it not." "is that your photograph?" asked harry forsyth, suddenly, in english. "no!" replied daireh, startled into answering in the same language; and the moment he did so he could have bitten his tongue out for vexation. the sheikh took the likeness in his hand; it was unmistakable. "here is your portrait, and it was taken in dublin, for it bears that name upon it. also you know english," he said. "i learned that language at alexandria," replied daireh, more firmly now he had collected his wits; "and i had a brother very like me who went beyond the seas, and may have lived in the place you speak of, for i never heard of him again." "you speak the words of sheytan, the father of lies," said the sheikh sternly; "where are the stolen documents?" "i never heard of them, your justice; and i know not what you mean," replied daireh, striving, but with indifferent success, not to tremble. "hassan!" called the sheikh, and a tall, stalwart black stepped forward, with a courbash in his hand. "twenty lashes to refresh his memory." "mercy, great sheikh; oh, favourite of allah, have mercy, and listen to me!" cried the wretch; but without heeding his cries four men seized him and flung him on the ground face downwards. two held his legs, one his arms, and a third put a knee on his back between the shoulder-blades to keep him in position. it was all done in a twinkling. then hassan stepped up, courbash in hand, and measured his distance. the courbash is a fearful whip made of hippopotamus' hide, a stroke from which is felt by a bullock as painfully as a cut from an ordinary whip is by a horse. it whistled through the air, and came down upon the naked flesh of the victim, who screamed with the pain as if he would break a blood-vessel. the wild men in the hall gathered round, their eyes sparkling and their teeth gleaming with enjoyment and laughter. it was good fun to them to see any one flogged, but a money-lender and extortioner, that the punishment should fall upon such an one, was indeed a treat! and daireh too was particularly disliked. then the currish way in which he took his licking added to the sport. the little civilisation they had was very superficial, and did not go nearly deep enough to repress the instinct of cruelty. another and another lash, and the fellow's howls, yells, and cries for pity were hardly human, but seemed rather those of some powerful spirit in pain. harry felt quite faint and sick, and looked down so as not to see what was going on. but he could not close his ears, unfortunately, and he counted the strokes, longing for them to be over. he feared being mastered by his feelings, and pleading for the wretch, so displaying a compassion which would be considered by the arabs as a most despicable weakness, and it was part of his plan now to gain their respect, and appear to enter into his uncle's plans. no, it served the rascal right; let him have that, and more too. only he had rather not be present. eighteen, nineteen, twenty. the screams subsided into a whimpering and wailing, and when harry looked up he saw daireh on his feet again, his eyes bloodshot, and his features convulsed with pain and terror. "where are the wills you stole?" asked the sheikh burrachee, unconcernedly, as if nothing had occurred since he last put the question. "they are at my house, your mightiness; send some one with me, and i will give them up." "i rejoice that your memory has returned; it is one of the choicest gifts of allah," said the sheikh. "go with him and get the papers, and bring them back with the prisoner." "a bad speculation from the first!" reflected daireh, as he was escorted through the streets, his woe-begone appearance and gingerly gait exciting much mirth and mockery amongst the juvenile population. "i wish i had left the accursed wills alone. and what son of sheytan is this who has traced them, and had my likeness in his pocket? a detective? no; no english policeman would win upon this mad fool of a sheikh--may the vultures tear his heart out while he is still alive--to treat him like a son. he must be one of the parties interested in the last will. what wretched luck that i did not meet him in a fair way, and make a proper agreement with him! but it is too late for that now. if i could only be revenged upon him, upon all of them--sheikh, torturer, mocking demons, and all! ugh, how sore i am! if it were but all over! but i fear they may torment me further. i had almost sooner they took my head off at once rather than put me to more of that agony. but no; i hope they won't do that either. there is a remedy for every evil but death." with these reflections, fears, and impotent rages tormenting him, daireh reached his house, and from a box, which contained what he had of most value, produced the required documents which had cost harry forsyth so much anxiety, toil, and suffering to come at. he was strongly tempted to destroy them, and so glean some little vengeance; but the certainty of perishing in fearful pain if he did so deterred him, and when he was brought back, he delivered them to the sheikh, wrapped in the oilskin in which he had carried them about him until he had a fixed residence where he could deposit them in tolerable security. "are these the right wills?" asked the sheikh burrachee, handing them to harry. "i think so," replied the latter, as he looked them over and examined the signatures; "indeed, i feel certain that they are." "then," said the sheikh, "since after all it was but infidels, and not true believers, that this rascal robbed, the justice of the case will perhaps be met by fifty lashes of the courbash, those he has already received being allowed to count. dog!" he added, indignantly, as daireh, flinging himself on the ground, wallowed, gasping and crying for mercy, "tempt me not, if you are wise, to treat you according to your deserts, but know that you are treated with extreme leniency." and so saying he rose and withdrew to the inner garden court, whither his nephew gladly followed him, and here they refreshed themselves with pipes and coffee. but the screams of the miserable felon told with what energy hassan was performing his duty, and harry thought the punishment would never be over. if it seemed long to him, you may be certain daireh thought it an age, and indeed he believed that mortal endurance had reached the acme of suffering, and that one more stroke must drive the soul from the body, some time before the last had cut into his palpitating flesh. but it takes a good deal to kill, and when all was over he was alive, though unable to stand, and when spurned from the courtyard into the street, managed to crawl and drag himself home, where he obtained the draught of water, the want of which had been his chief torment since the stripes ended. "and now we have recovered the will, uncle, how are we to send it to my mother?" asked harry when the distracting cries extracted by the courbash had ceased. "the old one i will destroy, as should have been done before. the money will add to her comfort, but news that i am alive and with you will make her happier still." this last was a skilful touch, and, i fear, harry was becoming a bit of a cheat. for, though tidings of her son's own safety would undoubtedly be the best news mrs forsyth could receive, the fact that he was domiciled with her crazy brother would as certainly not add to her satisfaction. "keep it safely for the present," said the sheikh, after smoking some time in thoughtful deliberation; "we shall find a method of transmitting it. great events will occur soon. the authority of the mahdi being established in the soudan, we shall sweep egypt like the simoom, and cairo and alexandria once in our hands, we shall find no difficulty in communicating with europe. or, perhaps, it may be done more quickly by suakim, should the forces of the mahdi's lieutenant, osman digna, recover from their check," he added, musing and thinking aloud rather than addressing his nephew. harry longed to ask what check, but it was part of his newly-formed system not to ask questions or show curiosity, but yield himself passively to the course of events, and watch his opportunity. for the same reason he would not propose taking the will home himself, feeling certain that so obvious a course would be suggested by his uncle himself if he could feel it was practicable. but it was evident what he was driving at now; as his nephew picked up health and strength he began asking him about his connection with the volunteers, and whether he had paid attention to the theory as well as the practice of shooting. and though harry pretended not to understand, and parried the questions as well as he could, he saw very well that he wanted him to take an active part in the training of soudanese soldiers in the use of the remington rifles which had fallen into their hands. for never in the history of war had a nation been armed so completely by its enemies. the egyptians sent out armies with weapons of precision and improved artillery, and they fortified towns, where they massed vast stores of ammunition, suited to both rifles and guns. the soldiers of the mahdi rushed upon their feeble foes with sword and spear, totally annihilated army after army, and collected the rifles. then they took the towns and possessed themselves of the cartridges. napoleon the great used to say that war should support war; but this was going a step further, and making war supply the means of waging war. the only drawback was this, that the more elaborate the weapons which you put into a soldier's hands, the more skill he requires to use them effectively; and this skill can only be acquired by proper training. but the mahdi had never taken the precaution to send any officers to hythe, and amongst the miraculous powers which he was said by some of his followers to possess, that of creating ready-made musketry instructors was apparently not included. the consequence was that his men were extremely bad shots, and wasted their ammunition in an almost incredible manner. what mischief they were enabled to do, especially with the artillery, was principally owing to the lessons they received from european scoundrels who had been forced to fly from their own countries by their crimes, or reckless adventurers who did not care for cause, nationality, or anything else, so long as they were where fighting and a chance of plunder was going on--men who would have made most excellent mediaeval heroes, and would have had a good chance of living in song and story had they not been born a few centuries too late. amongst all these the sheikh burrachee was an exception. he was a genuine crack-brained enthusiast, sane and even shrewd enough in many things, but quite crazy upon certain points. convinced, to begin with, that it was the duty of every irishman to hate the english, he had imaginary private wrongs of his own to avenge. on the top of all that, he had become a thorough mohammedan in his sympathetic feelings and habits, and quite sincere in his adoption of the cause of the mahdi. the appearance of england in the field, which would have caused many to hesitate, was a spur to his enthusiasm, since it offered him an opportunity of having it out with the foes of his predilection. harry forsyth had no idea whatever that england had engaged in hostilities in the soudan. when he last had any information, she was firmly determined to do nothing of the kind, but to let the egyptian government get out of the difficulty in the best way they could. indeed, it was the last thing he would have guessed. but still he knew well enough that english interests were firmly bound up in egyptian, since any disturbance of the government at cairo might endanger the route to india, and therefore that to assist in any way the enemies of egypt was to act indirectly against his own country; and he was determined to be of no use, even if he made believe to espouse the cause which his uncle had made his own. and this he suspected more and more he would have to do, if he was to get an opportunity of leaving the country. his uncle had hinted at an impending advance upon egypt; if he could join that, and once reach the nile, surely he would find some opportunity of slipping down the river, and joining the egyptian troops, who would receive a relic of hicks pasha's army with open arms. then he would get to cairo, and find friends to assist him to reach england with the will in his pocket. he did not fear that the arabs would be able to penetrate far into egypt proper, for there were probably some english troops still at cairo, and more would be sent there on the first intimation of danger. the will, by-the-by, had now taken the place which the parchment given to him by his uncle had formerly held, and he seldom laid it aside, not knowing what might happen from day to day. his health, meantime, became re-established, and he grew rapidly stronger, while his mind was perfectly clear now. at times, indeed, he had violent neuralgic headaches, but these recurred less and less frequently, and he had every prospect of soon losing all ill effects of that wound in his head. but the stronger and better he became, the more restless he grew. the only amusement he had to pass the time in was riding. he had always been very fond of horses, and now he had a good choice, and as the two he had fancied most had not been often backed, they took some riding; and that was exercise and amusement both. but the bits and the saddles were not to his fancy: the former too severe; the latter heavy, with high peaks before and behind. but one cannot have everything, and he was grateful to be able once more to sit a horse and enjoy a gallop at all. and to watch the wild cavalry at their exercises on a broad plain outside the town was a pretty sight, though it seemed to him that their performances were too much of the circus order. "can the english dragoons or hussars do anything like that?" the sheikh burrachee asked him one day, when they were together watching a body of horsemen who were supposed to be skirmishing. they pulled up their horses to a dead halt from a gallop with their cruel bits; went, not over the head, as it seemed they must, but under the body of the animal; fired a shot from that position, and remounted anyhow--one by the neck, another over the tail; a third ran alongside his horse for some way, using him as cover, and then vaulted on his back without checking the pace. harry was bound to confess that, to the best of his belief, no british regiment, light or heavy, could rival such equestrian gymnastics. "no," said the sheikh; "they learn to stick on while the horse keeps his footing, but these cannot be thrown; for should the horse fall, even, he jumps at once to the ground." "but surely he must reach it head or shoulder first sometimes," objected harry. "no," replied his uncle; "he turns a somersault and alights on his feet. the european is as far behind the asiatic in horsemanship as in everything else which is manly and not demoniac. the use of the sword, for example. the dragoon has a straight weapon, with which he is taught to cut or thrust. if he does the former, and the blow is not parried, he may knock his opponent down, but he seldom inflicts a dangerous wound. if he gives point, he may kill his man indeed, but his weapon will often become so entangled that he is for some time unable to free it, and he remains defenceless against another attack. but with his curved blade of temper, which will not shiver and which takes a razor's edge, the warrior of the east neither strikes nor gives point, but presents the half-moon-shaped sword at his opponent, holding it still if galloping, pushing it forward if motionless, and will so slice off limb or head, or cut deep into the body, without useless expenditure of strength, or the chance of losing even the momentary control of his weapon. i have seen an arab meet an enemy in full career, and slice his head clean off in this way, with hardly a perceptible movement of the arm." having no knowledge on this subject, harry assented without any mental reserve; but concerning the military utility of acrobatic equestrian performances, or of their being available at all in the hunting field, he entertained the very gravest doubt. but they were good fun to watch, for all that, and one, that of vaulting into the saddle while the horse was in motion, he practised, and to a certain extent caught the knack. he also went in for throwing the spear, which the natives could do for ten yards or so with great force and accuracy; and though he did not make very good practice, it proved an excellent exercise for his muscles after his long confinement. the sheikh burrachee was delighted to see how his nephew took to these martial exercises, and at last he put the question to him point-blank, whether he would not assist in teaching some of the men the use of the remington rifles they had captured. harry, having thought over the best course to pursue in such a contingency, consented with apparent alacrity, but said that he hoped his shortcomings would be excused. his uncle, not knowing how much that hope covered, replied that he must not take the kor dofan for wimbledon, and the most elementary instruction would be esteemed extremely scientific. so the very next day harry found himself with a squad of five hundred men to instruct. "delightful task, to rear the tender root--to teach five hundred arabs how to shoot!" he said to himself, when the lot were handed over to him. there was one consolation: do what he would, his instructions to so large a number, without assistance, could not avail much: but he wanted to do nothing at all. his uncle was not present; he had no one to check him, able to judge whether his instruction was good or bad. so he stuck some stones up for butts, at about twelve hundred yards, and set them all firing at them. he judged that by this he would in the first place accustom them to firing at a comparatively innocuous distance; and in the second, that they would waste a good deal of ammunition. "his honour rooted in dishonour stood; and faith unfaithful kept him falsely true," in the words of tennyson's famous conundrum. chapter fourteen. trinkitat. the _alligator_ troopship came tearing along the red sea, sending the spray flying from her bows, and churning up the historical water with her screw, just as if it were ordinary commonplace sea-water, without any sacred, classical, or poetical associations! the men gathered on the forecastle and the officers on the poop were alike gazing hard at a town of brilliant whiteness, which became more distinct every minute. "and that is suakim," said one of the group of officers. "it looks very clean at a distance. what is it made of, doctor?" doctor macbean was a middle-aged man who liked the society of young ones because he had one little weakness: he was very fond of holding forth, and young men were more inclined to listen patiently to him than older ones. he was a naturalist, a sportsman, and had been a great traveller. there are men who go through greece, as they would through surrey, gleaning nothing; but the doctor was not one of them. if he were only a day in a place he learned all about it, and what he learned he remembered. so that to be in his company was to have an encyclopaedia conveniently at hand, from which you could learn what you wanted to know without the trouble of turning over the leaves. for the rest, such a _boy_ past forty there never was--ready for anything for sport or fun, even to a spice of practical joking; and with all this a grave scottish face which imposed upon those who had not found him out. but in matters of information he was trustworthy, his passion for fact overcoming his love of mystification. "suakim is built of madrepore," he replied to the above question; "very curious. houses and mosques all of the same materials as these reefs we are now coming to." "madrepore--why, that is a sort of coral--isn't it?" "yes, it is coral." "that's queer though. my shirt-studs are made of coral; fancy a town built of shirt-studs!" "shirt-studs are quite a secondary use of the article; the principal being to help babies cut their teeth. have you got your coral still, green?" green was a very young subaltern, who had not been to a public school, and was somewhat easily imposed upon. "no," he said; "at least not here. it is somewhere at home, i believe." "that is right; you will want it when you come to cut your wisdom teeth. you know, i suppose, that you cannot get your company until you have done that?" "i knew i had to pass an examination," said green, not convinced that this information was quite _bona fide_. "of course, but this is in addition to that. when a vacancy occurs, you send in your certificate of having passed in tactics, and then you are ordered to go to the veterinary college, and there they look in your mouth." "but i am not a _horse_!" exclaimed green. "no, but the rule applies to other animals," said his tormentor, gravely. "i know you are chaffing me," said green, and indeed the roars of laughter were alone sufficient to show him that. "but all the same, it is curious that a town should be built of child's corals." "that is why it has been selected as a good station for infantry," said a young fellow amidst a chorus of groans. "i tell you what it is, tom," said one of the captains; "i will not have you in my company if you do that again. the man who would make a bad pun and a hackneyed pun in such beautiful scenery as this, would--i don't know what enormity he would _not_ commit. come late on parade, very likely." "oh, no!" said tom strachan, for the lieutenant was no other then our old friend, "i hope i know better than to infringe on the privileges of my superior officers." a general grin showed that strachan had scored there; for fitzgerald, his captain, was noted for slipping into his place just in time to avoid reprimand, and no sooner. but he could not make any reply without fitting the cap; so he grinned too. "is suakim an island?" he asked. "not now," replied macbean. "when i was last here it was, but since that gordon has had a causeway made to the mainland. there, you can see it now," he added, as the vessel steamed through a gap in the outer coral reef. "i wonder whether these passages in the reef were made by cutting the coral out to build the town," said another. "no," replied the doctor. "their origin is rather curious. sometimes, in the wet season, torrents rush down from the mountains to the sea, and the fresh water kills the polypus which makes the coral, and so stops the formation of it just there, and makes an opening. this theory is confirmed by the fact that all such passages through the reefs are immediately opposite valleys." "the town looks like a large fortification; i suppose the dwelling- houses are behind the walls." "no, those are the houses; and what look from here like loopholes are the windows. the place is worth looking over, though you won't have much time for that, i expect, nor yet for boating amongst the curious coral caves, or looking at the queer creatures which serve for fish and haunt them, until you have chawed up the hadendowas and got osman digna in a cage." "not then, i hope," said one of the seniors of the group. "i hope they will send us across to berber, when osman's forces are swept from the path." "i doubt if they will," replied the doctor, shaking his head. "it will be frightfully hot in a couple of months." "it is the only way to save gordon." "i fear you are right, but i hope not. but here is a boat coming off to us." it was a man-of-war's boat dashing along with the smart, lively stroke which can never be mistaken. it was alongside presently, and almost the moment it touched, the naval officer they had seen in the stern sheets stood on the quarter-deck; a harlequin could not have done it more quickly. "it is a mistake your coming in here, sir," he said to the commanding officer; "you are to go to trinkitat." so the chance of closely investigating a coral town, and seeing how closely or otherwise it resembled a similar sort of colony in an extravaganza, was lost for the present for the first battalion of the blankshire, who growled. and yet, oh fortunate ones! if they but knew it, they gained two more comfortable meals, and one comfortable night's lodging, by having to go on. for they did not anchor in trinkitat harbour till it was too late to land that night. the delay caused a last rise to be taken out of poor green, or rather a final allusion to a long-standing one. when the battalion got its route for the soudan, the lad was as keen to see active service as any one of them, and it was a severe shock to him when one of the most mischievous of his brother officers pretended to discover that one of his legs was crooked, which would incapacitate him, he feared, from marching across the desert. "you would knock up in an hour's march, and have to be carried, you know," said the tormentor; "it would never do." "i am sure my legs seem to me all right," urged poor green. "well, of course, i may be quite in error," candidly admitted the other. "we will ask a doctor." so doctor macbean was called in, and he made an examination of the accused limb. "dear, dear!" he said, "however were you passed for the army? the _scarsal bone_ of the _fons ilium_ is all out of drawing." "but you won't tell, doctor?" pleaded poor green; "it does not inconvenience me in the least, i assure you." "not now, perhaps," said the doctor, nodding his head; "but after a long march in sand, it might be serious. i am very sorry, but i must do my duty." but, being much entreated, the doctor was persuaded to try what an invention of his own, which he spoke diffidently of, would do. so green's leg was done up in splints for twenty-four hours, and then plaistered up. and after a bit the doctor saw so much improvement that he agreed to say nothing about it, and so green sailed with the rest. "how is your _fons ilium_, green?" he was asked that evening in the saloon. "hush!" he whispered, anxiously; "the colonel will hear you! i am all right. i'll walk you ten miles through the deepest sand we meet with for a sovereign." "thank you; no amount of sovereigns would tempt me to accept the responsibility of putting your scarsal bone to so severe a test. but i am glad it is so much stronger; very glad. i would not have the regiment miss the aid of your stalwart arm on any consideration. never shall i forget the way you delivered that number cut which caught mercer such a hot one the other day, when you were playing singlestick on the deck. i say, by-the-by, have you had your sword sharpened?" "yes!" replied green, with enthusiasm. "it has a good butcher's-knife edge upon it; so the corporal said, who ground it for me. it is quite as sharp as my pocket-knife." "i am not quite so soft as they take me for," he added, confidentially, to strachan presently. "of course you are not, my dear fellow," said tom. "i doubt if it would be possible." "now that macbean, the doctor, you know: did you hear what he said about the fresh water coming down from the hills in the rainy season, and making gaps in the coral because fresh water killed the insects that make the coral?" "yes, i heard him," said strachan, wondering what fault green could find with what seemed to him a very lucid explanation. "as if i was going to swallow that!" said the other. "the rainy season, indeed! why, every one knows that rain never falls in egypt." "but, my dear fellow, this isn't egypt for one thing, and it rains sometimes everywhere, i expect," said tom, who was somewhat tired of imposing on the innocence of green, who was a very willing and good- tempered lad. "do you know you remind me of a very old story of a sailor-lad who returned home to his grandmother after a cruise in these very waters. it may be familiar to you." "i don't remember it," said green. "well, it is really so apt that i will tell it." "`what did you see that was curious, jack?' asked the old woman. `well, granny, there were flying fish; they came right out of the water and flew on the deck, and we picked them up on it.' the old woman laughed and shook her head. `what else, jack?' `why, i wish you could see the sea at night in them parts, granny; where the ship disturbs the water it all sparkles, and you can see her track a long way, like a regular road of fire.' `ha, ha! go it, jack. what else?' jack's budget of fact was exhausted for the moment, so he had to take refuge in fiction. `well, when we were in the red sea, you know, we hauled up the anchor, and we found a carriage-wheel on one of the flukes. a queer old wheel it was. and the chaplain, he looked at it and found the maker's name, which was that of pharaoh's coach-builder. so he said there was no doubt it belonged to his army, when he followed the israelites after they had gone out of egypt.' `ah, now you are telling me what is worth listening to!' cried the old woman. `we know that pharaoh's host was drowned in the red sea, and that they had a many chariots. it is like enough you should fish one of the wheels up. but to try to stuff your poor old granny that fish can fly, and water take fire! for shame, you limb!'" green was a bit thoughtful, and puzzled over the application of this fable; but strachan having to hurry off on duty, he could not question him further. every one was on deck by daybreak next morning, and the bustle of the day commenced. the _alligator_ was rather a late arrival, and the shore was already white with tents, large and small, circular and square, the camp being protected by an earthwork and a trench, which came down to the sea on each side, entirely enclosing it on that of the land, while on the other it was protected by the harbour and its gunboats. but there was not much time for gaping; launches and boats of various kinds were alongside presently, and the work of disembarkation commenced. it did not take long, for a number of little piers had been made, rude enough, but answering their purpose, and several boats could land their passengers at them at once. then there was an officer ready to show them where to get their tents, and it was not long before the first blankshire had added several streets to the canvas town. they had hardly done that, however, and were still telling off men for the various regimental duties, when they were called upon to find a large fatigue party for the public service. and now, if any men felt the cramping effects of life in a small compass on board ship, they had plenty of opportunity for stretching their limbs and getting their muscles into full play. the sailors, for the most part, brought the cargoes ashore, and the way they worked was marvellous. they bundled bales and boxes into the boats as if the ship were on fire and they had only a few minutes to save them in; they rowed them to the strand as if they were racing in a regatta, and they got them out on the jetties before dockyard hands at home would have quite made up their minds what bale they should begin with. and they laughed and chaffed, and seemed to think it the best fun out. such energy was infectious, and "tommy atkins," without coat or braces, and with his shirt sleeves rolled up above his elbows, tried to emulate "jack." some of the goods they had to pile up on the shore; some to carry to the commissariat stores; and some, again, to the ordnance department. if free perspiration was the best thing for health and vigour, they were going the right way to work to obtain those blessings. there was a lad in fitzgerald's company, that in which strachan was lieutenant, upon whom these new duties fell very hard. his name was james gubbins, and he enlisted because he found it hard to obtain any other employment. and no wonder, for never was there such an awkward mortal. he broke the hearts of corporals and sergeants, and the officers of his company would fain have got rid of him. but he was perfectly able-bodied, and the surgeon was bound to pass him. neither would the colonel help them; the man was well conducted, healthy, and tried his best. "he would make a good soldier in time," he said. perhaps so, but the process was tedious. one lad, who joined as a recruit a month after gubbins, learned his drill, went to his duty, was made a lance-corporal, and had the drilling of the squad in which gubbins was still toiling at the rudiments. he got perfect in the manual exercise, and was dismissed from recruit drill at last however, and even learned to shoot, after he had once taken in the part of the back-sight of his rifle which was to be aligned with the fore-sight, haziness about which nearly caused several bad accidents, as his bullets went wandering dangerously near the butts to the right and left of that where he was supposed to be firing. by the time he passed muster he was indeed a valuable soldier, if the value of a thing depends upon the trouble taken to manufacture it. and now poor gubbins had more to learn! it may seem very easy to turn a crank, to pump, to shoulder a box, to help carry a bale, or to push at a capstan bar, and this certainly is not skilled labour. yet there is a way of doing each of these things in a painful, laborious, knuckle- cutting, shoulder-bruising, toe-smashing manner, and a comparatively easy and comfortable one. and james gubbins invariably did the worst for himself possible. i do wish that a special artist had seen him trying to help sling a mule on one occasion, and endeavouring to take a similar animal to the place appointed on shore for it on another. words can do no justice to those scenes. another adventure, however, i will try to describe. a naval officer engaged in transport came up to tom strachan, who was in charge of half his company on fatigue duty, and said-- "look here, do you see that steamer with a green funnel? well, there are stores on board, for your regiment mostly. a whole lot of shells have to be landed this afternoon, and all my men are at work at that. i wish you would take that lighter, and let your fellows go off to the steamer and unload it. we should bring you the stores, as a rule, for you to carry up from the jetty, only we are short-handed." "all right," said tom. the lighter was propelled by large oars, or sweeps, and james gubbins found there was yet another trial for him in this weary world--that of endeavouring to row with one of these things. but he was so clumsy, and impeded the others to such an extent, that they pushed him on one side and told him to keep quiet. when they got alongside, a rope was thrown up and caught by a sailor on deck, and strachan went up a rope ladder to see exactly what had to be done. the stores were as yet in the hold, and the first job would be to hoist them out of it; so the lighter would not be wanted alongside for some time. the sailors let it drop astern, and then made it fast. "now then, men, you are wanted on deck; look alive!" cried strachan. the sergeant in the lighter looked puzzled how to get on board for a moment; but seeing a grin on a sailor's face, and at the same time observing a rope hanging from the taffrail close to him, he seized, pulled at it, and finding it firm at the top end, swarmed up it presently. it was not far to go, or a difficult operation, so the others followed. then they manned the crane, by which a chain with a big hook to it was lowered into the hold, as if to fish for something. and a bale having been caught, it was wound up, slewed round, and deposited on the deck. when this had been going on a little time strachan called out-- "where's gubbins?" "gubbins, sir," said the sergeant; "is he not here? no, he is not. where can he have got to? gubbins!" he went aft and looked into the lighter; there was no one there, and he was turning away again, when he heard a voice in tremulous accents crying-- "help! help! do pull me up, some one, or send a boat. he will have me--i know he will! he will jump presently; and if he doesn't, i can't hold on much longer. help! oh, lor! help!" there was james gubbins clinging to the rope by which the others had come on board. he had waited till the last, and then attempted to follow. there were two knots in the rope, one near the bottom, the other some five feet higher, and by grasping it above the top one with his hands, and above the lower one with his ankles, he managed not to fall into the water. for the lighter had floated clear of him. as for swarming up the rope without the aid of knots, he might as well have tried to dance on the tight rope. now to fall in the water would of itself have been a serious thing to poor gubbins, who, of course, could not swim; but to add to his terror there was a shark, plainly visible, his back fin indeed now and then rising out of the water, swimming round and round, opening his mouth, but by no means shutting his eyes, to see what luck would send him. and good rations and regular meals, with something a day to spend in beer, had agreed with james, who had not been accustomed before enlisting to eat meat every day. he was plump, and enough to make any shark's mouth water. the sergeant called for assistance, and gubbins was hauled up. he got a good many bumps against the side before he was safely landed on the deck, but he stuck to his rope like a limpet, and came bundling on board at last. and then, when he felt himself out of the reach of those cruel jaws which had threatened him for a time, which seemed to him long enough, he nearly fainted. after this experience, if james gubbins ever learned to swim, it would have to be after his return to england, for nothing could persuade him to go into the waters of the red sea. and so he missed the principal pleasure which hard-worked "tommy atkins" enjoyed at that period. for when the work of the day was over, bathing parade was the great feature of the evening, and the margin of the strand was crowded with soldiers, swimming, wading, diving, splashing, playing every imaginable game in the water, for, however tired they might be, the refreshing plunge gave them fresh life and vigour. and, by-the-by, why is the british soldier called "tommy atkins?" i believe that there are plenty of people who use the term and don't know. the nickname arose simply from the fact that every company has a ledger, in which each man's accounts are kept. so much pay and allowance on the credit side, so much for deductions on the debit, with the balance. the officer commanding the company signs to the one, the soldier himself to the other. on the first page of this book there is a form filled in, for the guidance of any new pay sergeant who may have to make out the accounts, and in this the fancy name of the supposed soldier is printed in the place where he has to sign, and this fancy name is "thomas atkins." but upon the point of who was the first person to generalise the name, and how it came about that his little joke was taken up and came into common use, history is dumb. this is a digression, and i suppose, according to the ideas of some people, i ought to ask you to pardon it, for i observe that that is a common plan upon such occasions. but i do nothing of the kind. if i thought it needed pardon i should not have made it; and you ought to be glad to improve your mind with a little bit of useful information. but you knew it all before? well, how could i tell _that_, i should like to know. whether the sharks were good old-fashioned mohammedans, who would not bite on the side of the mahdi, or whether the number of british soldiers in the water together, and the noise they made, overawed them, they did not attempt any supper in that direction, and the men enjoyed their bath with impunity. the work went on day after day for some time, always at high pressure, and the men got into rare good training for marching or any other kind of work. and they had plenty of water to drink, for the steamers in the harbour were perpetually at work condensing the salt-water, which turns it, as you probably know, into fresh. pipes then conveyed it on shore, where it was received in tanks and barrels. and the want of natural springs, and the consequent necessity of having recourse to an artificial supply, were not without advantage. for the only water which can be got for troops when campaigning is very often polluted, and the men get dysentery from drinking it, whereas this was necessarily quite pure. and probably owing to this cause there was wonderfully little sickness. a terrified horse gave trouble in the landing him one day, and tom strachan, who was with the fatigue party which had to do it, lent his personal assistance, and with success, but he grew warm over the job. as he was wiping the perspiration from his forehead major elmfoot rode up. "well, strachan," he said, "how do you like this work? do you want it over that you may begin fighting the arabs?" "well, yes, sir," replied tom. "a little of it goes a good way, and we have had more than a little. still, we should not get on well without grub or cartridges, should we, sir?" "no, my lad, you are right there; and i am glad to see you are a philosopher." "am i that, sir? well, it is no use grumbling, but i am glad it is pretty nearly over." "pretty nearly over, you think it, do you?" said the major, drily. "then the stores are to walk up to fort baker by themselves, i suppose." "have we got to--," began tom, in dismay. "yes, we have," replied major elmfoot to his unfinished query; "and you are to knock off this job and start off on the other one at once." it was a peculiarity of the major's to preface an order in that way-- that is, to prepare you for something quite different, and then take you aback. if you were just going to dinner, and he had a duty for you which would cause you to defer that meal, he would begin by asking if you were hungry. he did not mean to be aggravating; it was only a way he had; but it was rather trying sometimes. fort baker was about three miles from trinkitat harbour; it was erected by baker pasha on the second of the month which was now drawing to a close, that is the february of , when he was in command of the egyptian army which was cut to pieces by the arabs on the fifth. there is no fresh water nearer that part of the coast than the wells at el teb, eight miles off; so every drop of the precious liquid for the use of the troops had to be first condensed at trinkitat, and then carried in tanks of galvanised iron on camel or mule back to the fort. three miles do not sound like a long distance, and on good ground are not very far. but the greater part of this track lay through marshes, and for a mile it was very bad indeed. but all were in good spirits, for it transpired that this was the last of that sort of work the two companies of the blankshire employed in it were to have for the present. they were to take their arms and accoutrements with them and remain at fort baker till the rest of the battalion joined them. but it was hard work to get the unfortunate baggage animals along. "i say, sergeant, what am i to do with this campbel now?" asked a soldier, alluding not to a clansman of the famous highland chief, but to a ship of the desert which had sunk down in the mud, making the most horrible noises imaginable, and seemed likely to be swallowed up after a bit. "the johnny who understands him won't do nothing; may i lick him?" "no, no," said the sergeant, glancing towards his captain, and with a frown at the man which was half a wink, intimating that if it could be done quietly and unofficially a little gentle persuasion used towards the egyptian driver might expedite matters. "what's up?" asked the captain, turning back. "a camel that's down, sir," replied the sergeant. tom strachan put the case in the form of an old nursery jingle, which he murmured for the benefit of another subaltern, williams, who was by his side at the moment. "captain, captain slang sergeant; sergeant won't swear at private; private won't kick egyptian; egyptian won't stir up camel; camel won't get out of that; and c company won't reach fort baker to-night." the captain was equal to the occasion, however. "look here, you know," he said to the native driver; "if you don't make that camel go on with that load, you and your two mates will have to carry it yourselves, don't you know." whether the "johnnies," as private smith called them, understood all this is perhaps doubtful, as their english was peculiar, but the tone and gesture which accompanied the words were very intelligible, and the egyptian began to unload the poor bogged beast with great alacrity. the soldiers, seeing his purpose, helped him, leaving the two other included natives to go on with other camels, and soon the goods carried by the fallen one were conveyed to a sounder place. the wallowing animal being beaten and prodded, emerged from the mud uttering unearthly cries, and was then reloaded, still objecting loudly, and on he went again. there was no difficulty in catching the others up; other mules and camels in front were in a similar plight. these were also unloaded, and then the men pulled and pushed and heaved them out, first taking off their shoes and stockings, and rolling their trousers up as far as they could. one man, finding that even so he got those garments sorely bemired, so deep was the slush, took them off altogether; others followed his example, hanging their trousers round their necks. but no one need have been shocked, their limbs were by no means bare, but decently clothed in long clay stockings. "i say, tom," said williams to strachan, "fancy the regiment turning out like that for commanding officers' parade at aldershot!" james gubbins managed to distinguish himself as usual, for he let a floundering mule knock him over and roll upon him. having to help the animal out, he seized one of his hind legs and hauled at it, with this result-- "look at gubbins!" cried one of his comrades; "blest if he hasn't been taking a cast of hisself in clay. going to have a marble statty, old man?" "you ought to have a photo taken to send home to your sweetheart, jim." "pity it's the end of february, and not the beginning; what a lovely valentine he would make, surely." "it's easy to laugh at a chap," spluttered gubbins, "but this stuff tastes awful; and however shall i clean myself for inspection?" "never mind, old chap, you'll be confined to barracks, and then them johnnies with the spears can't get at you." "if any chap had a drop of rum instead of jaw to give a chap with his mouth full of filth, there would be more sense in it," said the victim; and it was one of the wisest remarks he had made for a long time. some good samaritan _had_, and administered it, and gubbins was consoled. "you have made these egyptians work," said tom to his captain. "yes, i flatter myself i know how to treat those fellows." "oh!" cried tom. "what's the matter?" asked fitzgerald. "nothing; only if a poor sub had done it!" "done what?" "well, you know, it was one of the jokes which were tabooed by general consent." "get out!" but it must be owned that though he meant nothing so atrocious as tom strachan implied, the captain did pronounce _fellow_ like fellah! the fort was reached at last, and never a mule or camel left on the way. there were some salt-water puddles at the end of the worst part of it, and in these the men contrived to wash the mud off their limbs before resuming their nether garments. ward the quartermaster was there before them; and he had a rough tent in which to receive the officers of the two companies, and he treated them to ginger-beer and tea. ward was an old campaigner, who had seen no end of service--been frozen in the crimea, broiled in india, devoured by stinging insects on the gold coast. strachan liked to listen to his yarns, and was in consequence rather a favourite of his. and if you are going on a campaign, it is not half a bad thing to be on good terms with a doctor, a quartermaster, or any other staff officer. they always have a bite or a drop of something should you happen to come across them when nobody else has. "you didn't expect this kind of work when you thought, as a boy, how you would like to go into the army, eh?" he asked him. "no," said tom, laughing; "they don't enter into these little details in books. it's mostly feasting and fighting, with other fellows getting killed, that a school-boy looks forward to." "ah, the fighting is the best of it; there is something to keep you going in that. give me the chap that will stand hunger, thirst, fatigue, want of sleep, and fever, and be as jolly as a sand-boy all the time. that's the sort for a soldier." "but all that would be no good if he would not stand up when the pinch came." "of course not; but a fairly bred one--i mean english, german, french, italian, dutch--is bound to stand if he is properly trained and led. if he is rightly drilled it does not occur to him to run away unless his comrades do; and then, after a bit, he gets excited. then, as to generals; i don't say that it's an easy thing to fight an army well, but it is easier than to feed it. i tell you all the real art of war lies in little details that no one ever talks about." "then you are not a hero worshipper, ward?" "not i, i have seen too much. i take no credit from men who get mentioned in despatches, win the victoria cross, and so forth; but there is a lot of luck in it. heaps of men deserve these prizes just as much as those who get them. indeed, the most deserving of all get killed out of hand, and make no claim. you see, one man does a thing with a flourish, which attracts notice, and is popular, and gets watched; and another is quiet and retiring, and afraid that if he pushes himself he may not prove as valuable an article as he has led people to expect; and a smart or plucky thing which gives promotion, or the victoria cross, to the first, merely elicits a `well done, old fellow!' from his mates for the second." "and that's worth risking a good bit for!" cried green, with his eyes sparkling, and a heightened colour. "hark to green! good lad! by jove, he's right!" green blushed. "why are you like king duncan's blood on lady macbeth's hand, edwards?" asked tom strachan of the last speaker. "i can never guess riddles," said edwards. "give it up." "because you have made the green one red," said strachan. "_you_ will never miss the victoria cross for want of cheek, at any rate," said fitzgerald. "i am glad of that," replied tom, "as i have my plan for it. i mean to stick behind you the first time you go to do anything heroic, and if you get killed i shall hope to get the credit of your action." "so you want me to be knocked on the head, do you, you young villain?" "not at all, sir; no one can say i would rather have your room than your company." "what _are_ the boys coming to?" cried fitzgerald. "when i was a sub, i no more dared to speak to my captain like that than to--to walk off parade without permission," he added, after pausing to think what was the highest possible stretch of mortal impudence. "perhaps your captain had not your appreciation of wit," replied tom. "wit, indeed! you call your bad puns wit, do you?" next day the rest of the troops marched in from trinkitat, and bivouacked outside the fort. they had made a fair start, and commenced the campaign now, and the novelty of eating their evening meal in the open, by the light of a bonfire, had a charm for some of the young ones. the officers' mess of the first blankshire was held round an oval trench. a coat thrown on the earth dug out of it served for a seat; the feet were placed in it, and the pewter plate with food on it was held on the knees. this is infinitely more comfortable than feeding in a cramped position on the ground. though they knew all about it before, it seemed strange to the inexperienced to lie down at night in the open, like animals, instead of going to bed, but some were so tired that, not being on duty, they rolled themselves up in the coats they had been sitting on, and courted a nap directly they had done feeding. those who did so, however, were presently aroused by a tremendous cheering, which made them jump up, and run to see what had happened. it was the arrival of the sixty-fifth, who had been stopped on their return from india, and sent to trinkitat instead of england. they had only landed that afternoon, and had marched on at once. it was not long, however, before the challenge of the sentries, and the snores of sleepers alone broke the silence of the little host, lying stretched in slumber under the faint light of the new moon. their sleep was disturbed by showers of rain, which interfered with all but the very sound, and even these were fairly roused at last by a regular drencher, the water coming down tropical fashion, in bucketfuls. "halloa, green!" said strachan, to that young hero, whom he found standing in astonishment, drenched, but not dismayed. "do you believe that it rains sometimes in the soudan, now?" "i do," replied green, solemnly. "books talk nonsense." "i wish it was time to start," said edwards, joining them. "it seems so absurd to stand here saturated, with no possibility of resting oneself, when one might be getting on." "it is more than half-past four, and reveille is to sound at five. let's try and light the fire again; there's a bit smouldering, in spite of the rain." this was strachan's suggestion, and voted a good one; and they had just succeeded in raising a blaze, when a bugle started the most romantic, melancholy, musical call in the whole category. i mean in itself, and not for its associations; and yet when one thinks how many thousands of brave men have been roused by it to go to death, it is not free from these. number one only got about three notes start, when a second began, and presently the whole air was full of plaintive sound. then flickers of fire shone out, and coffee was boiled, and the men got their breakfasts. then, after a while, the fall-in sounded, and the different corps and detachments stood to their arms. the commanding officer of the first blankshire went round the ranks, and spoke to the men here and there. he did not remark on the mud which still clove to james gubbins, but he stopped opposite green. "why, what is the matter, green; where and how are you hurt?" he asked. "i, sir?" said green, in astonishment; "i believe i am all right." "why, you are bleeding like a pig!" and so he was, from his right ear. "i must have cut it with my sword, sir, carrying it carelessly. i forgot that i had had it sharpened." "well, it can't be very bad, if you did not know it," said the colonel, laughing as he rode on. the bleeding stopped presently, but not before it had made green's kharkee sleeve and his sword, down which there had been a trickle, look exceedingly warlike. "he has fleshed his maiden blade!" said tom strachan. chapter fifteen. el teb. the force started on the march about eight o'clock. it moved in square, with camels, mules, baggage, ammunition in the centre. also inside were the surgeons and ambulance, and some troops ready to strengthen any weak part in the course of action; there were guns, either machine-guns, (as guns which fire bullets through individual barrels by turning a handle-- various improvements upon the mitrailleuse--are called) or krupp guns, at the corners, manned either by sailors or artillerymen. the square was not a square in the sense of euclid, because two sides of it were longer than the other two. one of the longest faces led, the men being in line. the other formed the rear face, and moved also in line, turned to the right-about; but when halted and fronted it would face to the rear. the side faces marched, the right side "fours left," the left side "fours right," so that when halted and fronted they too would face outwards. the officer in command, general graham, had two men who knew the ground well, baker and burnaby, to point out the best route to avoid obstacles which would break the formation, and so they moved over a flat expanse of sand, with now and then a hill overgrown with low bushes. not far from the line of march these sand-hills were larger and more numerous, and the bushes thicker, and amongst and beyond these parties of the enemy were hovering; to guard the infantry against a sudden attack from these, a squadron of light cavalry were spread out half a mile ahead, covering the flanks. "i ask your pardon, sir," said a sergeant to strachan, as they tramped through the sand, "but do you happen to know what we are going to fight about? not that it matters, only it gives an interest like to the business." "oh, yes, sergeant," said tom. "we are going to relieve tokar." "so i thought, sir. but then, you see, tokar, they say, has fallen." "i believe it has," replied tom; "but that was the original idea. and if we are a bit late, why then we must show them how we would have relieved it if it had not been taken. the arabs had no right to be in such a hurry. you remember the sham fights we used to have at aldershot? neither side was to commence manoeuvring before a certain hour, when a gun fired. well, these arabs have not played fair, but stolen a march upon us before the proper time. but that is no reason why we should go home after all this trouble and preparation without a fight." "of course not, sir!" "well, then, they have got the wells at el teb, and have raised fortifications to defend them, i believe, and our job to-day is to get them out of that. then we go on to tokar, and we shall see if they make another fight there." "thank you, sir," said the sergeant; "i understand quite enough now." a puff of smoke from the bushes; another; twenty. but no bullets came, the enemy firing from too long a distance. it was like a peaceable field day with blank cartridge burning. trinkitat harbour was in full view, and an energetic ship there, seeing the arabs' position thus indicated, tried to throw shells amongst them. but they, too, were out of range. only, as shells when properly constructed burst somewhere, and these were sent over the heads of friends, their exploding short was dangerous, and after two or three attempts the experiment was dropped. the main body of the cavalry followed in rear of the square, and to the left of it, in three lines. "look at those birds!" said green to tom, coming up to him to draw his attention. "what lots of them! they look like vultures surely, some of them." "and they are vultures, too. what carrion have they got there i wonder. faugh! one can smell it from here." "look at general baker, what a stern expression he has got," said fitzgerald, letting his subaltern come up to him. "what a scene those birds and this stench must recall for him!" "ah, to be sure!" said tom. "this was the line of the flight of his egyptian army a month ago, when they let the arabs massacre them without even attempting to resist. well, we won't do that if we can help it, will we, green? we will strike a blow, even if we cut off our noses as well as our ears." "there, there, don't chaff him, strachan; you are too bad. and look to your half-company. close up, there!" the enemy kept up their innocuous out-of-distance popping, principally at the advance cavalry. the square was halted two or three times for a minute's rest, which the men dragging the guns must have particularly wanted, considering the loose nature of the soil. then on again, after between two and three hours' march. tom strachan could see huts, and what looked like a fort with guns; earthworks also in another part, with flags stuck upon them. also, of all earthly things in such a spot, an old boiler, such as you may see in some thames-side yard, where old vessels are broken up and worn-out machinery accumulates. here the cavalry skirmishers, having done their work, retired to their main body. another halt, almost within rifle-shot of the position, and the men flung themselves carelessly down on the sand. major elmfoot was examining the defences through his field-glass. "that thing looks like an old boiler, major," said fitzgerald. "and it _is_ an old boiler," replied the other. "i was hearing about it the other day; there was a sugar-mill here once; that ruined building was part of it." "ten-shun!" the men sprang to their feet all together. the enemy were close, and there would be serious work in a minute. a flash and a puff of smoke from the earthworks, a singing in the air, another flash and report close by, and the fragments of a shell were flying about their ears. two more bursting right over, and a man here and there dropped. then the rifle-fire opened in earnest, and those who had never yet heard it learned what the sound of a bullet was like. more men were hit, collapsed, and were picked up by the ambulance. still the square pressed steadily on, the men stepping jauntily as if marching past. green said to himself with joy-- "i am under fire, really under fire! and i am not half so frightened as i thought i should be." "mayn't i give them one back, sir?" a man asked him. "not yet; presently," he replied. he had hardly spoken before the words, "halt! lie down!" were passed, and return fire was opened, both from guns and rifles, overpowering and almost silencing that of the enemy. "advance!" up the men jumped again, and pressed forward towards the works. the ground was broken by lumps of rock, bushes, and holes, which made temporary breaks in the ranks as the men had to give way to pass on either side of them, and then run up into their places again. behind every rock and bush, crouched in every pit or hollow, were arabs, who seized the opportunity to dash amongst the men, getting into the very ranks, and striking with their spears and sharp swords right and left, and on equal terms. for the rifle, considered as a firearm, was of no use at such very close quarters; the bayonet at the end of it, or the butt, was all that could be used. the bayonet exercise is often spoken of as a bit of gymnastics rather than of practical value; but smartness in the delivery of a thrust was just everything now. in civilised warfare it may be that bayonets are seldom crossed, but when you have to deal with a barbarian foe, who places his trust in cold steel, the case is different. for the first thrust perhaps the bayonet has the advantage, for the weight of the rifle behind it sends it very quick and true, and difficult to parry. but the point once turned or avoided, the spear gets the pull, as, by drawing back the hand which holds it, the point can be withdrawn to the shoulder, and launched, without a chance of parrying, at any unguarded spot. true, that the english soldier can also shorten arms, but it takes both hands to do that, and in the meantime the whole body is exposed; while the arab shortens his spear with the right-hand alone, and the left arm, with a round shield of hippopotamus hide upon it, can be used to put aside the bayonet thrust. unless wounded to death, they fight on when they have fallen, clutching at their enemies' legs, stabbing while they can hold a weapon. such struggling as this caused the advance of the square to be very slow, for those portions of the front line which had no obstacles to enable the enemy to get amongst them had to wait while the men engaged in these single combats despatched their foes and were ready to advance again. not that they wasted their time, for they had plenty of shooting to do to clear their own immediate front. nor was this the only cause of delay; the rear line of the square was also subject to rushes of the enemy, who lay in ambush till it had passed, and then dashed upon it. to meet the attack it must halt and face about, and the rest of the square must halt too, or a gap would be opened through which the determined foe would rush. then, again, the flanks, or side faces of the square, were also attacked. these had to turn towards the front when the square advanced, not in file, or two deep, as they stood, because men moving like that must always straggle out too much, but in fours. thus, on each forward movement, the right side of the square formed fours left, the left side of it fours right. but in this way the men would have their sides towards the surrounding enemy, and would be helpless. so when attacked they had to halt and front, thus becoming a line two deep again, facing their foes. but this required another general halt till the enemy were killed or driven back. it is difficult to explain all this without using technical terms, but i think you will understand how absolutely necessary it was to move steadily, with the men forming the four sides of this square standing shoulder to shoulder, and leaving no openings. if the forces opposed were about equal, no such square as this, which moves with such cumbersome difficulty, would be thought of; but when a mere handful of men have to encounter countless hordes, it is employed to avoid being attacked in front and rear and flanks at the same time, and to protect the wounded, the water, and the spare ammunition. but let the overpowering masses of the enemy once break into the centre, all advantage is gone, and the small body is worse off than it would be advancing in any other way, because the four sides would be attacked in front and rear, cut off from each other, and deprived of mutual support. the ammunition would be seized, and the wounded in the ambulances massacred, while the soldiers would just have to fight back to back while their strength lasted. to prevent a partial irruption resulting in such a catastrophe, spare troops moved inside the square to oppose a second line, ready to repel any arabs who broke in, and so aid their comrades to regain their formation. the guns were at the corners of the square. while there was a clear space in front of them, and they were well served, nothing alive could approach. but suppose a hillock close in front, or a pit, full of arabs, into which they could not fire, just under their muzzles, and they would become weak places, where the enemy could surge in without being met by the bristling bayonets, and so stab the soldiers on the right and left of the angle in their backs, increasing the gap, through which their friends might penetrate. and the enemy saw this plainly enough, and planned dodges to aid their rushes upon these corners. there was one good thing for the british troops that day: a nice breeze swept the smoke away, and they could see their enemies' movements, and so stall off many a rush with their fire before it came to close conflict. if a thick pall of smoke had combined with the broken ground to cover the attacks of the arabs, the losses would most likely have been heavier, and the battle more protracted. tom strachan had acquired an accomplishment which promised to be useful before the day was over. he and others were practising with their new revolvers one day on the grounds near the rifle butts, where they were quartered, when the colonel rode by, and stopped to look on. "i tell you what you should do," he said to them, "you should practise with the left hand. i have learned to shoot as well with my left hand as my right, and i believe it saved my life in india during the mutiny. it leaves the sword-arm free to ward off a cut or thrust if there are more than one at you, or you fail to shoot your man dead." all tried it, but strachan at least persevered, and it came quite natural to him after a while to use his left hand for that purpose. not only that, but the determination to conquer the awkwardness he felt at first made him practise pistol shooting much more than he would otherwise have done, and he became a first-rate shot. the weapon, however, lay in its leather case at present; he had enough to do to look after his men, and to catch and repeat the word of command amidst the din, without thinking of personal combat. he, like green, had got an edge put on his sword. it was kavanagh's present, and during the lull preceding the attack, he had thought of his old friend, wondered where he was, and regretted that they were not side by side that day. he and harry forsyth--what fun it would have been! but when the firing once commenced, he had no thought but of what he was about. "fire low, men! steady! don't shoot wildly. harris, cover your man, just as if he were a target at home." "close up, there; never mind roberts, the ambulance will look to him. good man, gubbins! that's your sort; can't well miss 'em at ten yards. aim at the waist-cloth. cease firing! advance; _fours left_ there! close up." orders could not always be heard in the din; it was necessary to watch the front of the square, and move on or halt as it did, unless a particular rush at a certain point compelled those at it to take the initiative, and then others had to conform to it. when the square got close to the right end of the curved earthwork, the troops nearest to it charged at it with a cheer, leaving a big gap in the ranks they left. had they succeeded in carrying the place with the rush, this would not have mattered; but it could not be done. tap a bee-hive smartly with your stick on a mild may day, and see the inhabitants swarm out at you, and you may form some idea of how the hadendowas flew over the parapet at their assailants. every one of them fixed his eye on an enemy, and went straight at him. every soldier found himself with two or three opponents, and, instead of pressing on into the earthwork, had enough to do to hold his ground. the cool, brave man, who made sure of getting rid of one with a steady shot a few yards off, and then plied his bayonet till he got a moment's pause to re-load, came off well; the flurried soldier, who was not quite sure whether to stand or retire, who missed or only wounded his man, and then stood strictly on the defensive, was most likely overpowered and speared. the greater the daring the greater was the safety, and _vice versa_. but brave or timid, the men who had rushed out of the ranks to attack were borne back by the sheer weight of numbers. the soudanese, however, never got through the gap that was left. the marines inside the square promptly presented themselves as a second barrier, till the attackers, retiring in good order, fell back into their places again. but there was some hard fighting at the point for a minute or two. good old-fashioned cut and thrust, hammer and tongs, like cutting out a ship. tom strachan found himself, he did not know how, with the hilt of his sword right up against a soudanese breast-bone, the weapon having passed right through the man's body. but there was no expression of pain in the dying face so close to his own, only hate and defiance. he was killed, not conquered. before he could disencumber himself from the body another hadendowa rushed at him with uplifted spear. tom levelled his pistol at him, and pressed the trigger; but the weapon did not explode. he had already fired all the barrels. another second and the spear-head would have been buried in his throat, but suddenly the arab's arm dropped, nearly severed by a cut from green, which caught him between wrist and elbow. the wounded man caught his spear with the left hand, and strove to stab, but before he had time he got the point in his throat, and that stopped him. at this time private gubbins had a narrow escape. he fired at an arab, about twenty yards off, and hit him hard, but he came on at him all the same, trying to spear him. gubbins thrust at him with his bayonet, but perhaps rather timidly; anyhow he missed his body, though he wounded him again in the shoulder, and with that, and parrying, knocked the spear out of his hand. whereupon the soudanese caught hold of the bayonet and tried to unfix it. he could not manage that, and a tug of war commenced, in which gubbins, being the weaker and less active, was pulled bodily out of the ranks, and would have been made mincemeat of had not some one shot the arab through the head, while his rear rank man pulled him back. he owned afterwards that he was fairly scared. "thought that 'ere cannibal couldn't die!" he said, "fust i shot him, and then i bayoneted him, and he only snarled like a wild cat. fancy a chap pulling like that with one hole in his stomach and another in his shoulder! 'taint reasonable." they fought like that, many of them. when the momentary confusion was over, and the square again compact, strachan found an opportunity of slipping fresh cartridges into his revolver; the work in prospect did not look like being suited to an empty pistol. he had hardly done it before they were under the parapet of the earthwork. here there was a pause; the arabs, not dashing out, the british, after their late experience, apparently not quite knowing whether they ought to break the square formation by dashing in. not to mention that the arabs were ticklish gentlemen to tumble over a bank into the middle of! during this pause a stalwart, almost gigantic figure was seen walking up the slope with a double-barrelled fowling-piece in his hand. coming to the parapet he brought the gun to his shoulder, fired right and left, and calmly opening the breech, replaced the two empty cartridges with two fresh ones, just as if he were standing during a battue, shooting pheasants and not soudanese. "look at burnaby!" cried some one, and hundreds were looking at him, expecting that at last he must fall, this dauntless traveller, keen observer, and born soldier, who courted peril as other men court safety; who spurned luxury and loved hardship; who seemed to treat the king of terrors as a playfellow. again he gave the enemy in the earthwork, and within a few yards of him, both barrels, and retreated a few steps down to re-load. the soudanese followed to the top of the parapet, but the moment one of them showed his head above it he was shot by the soldiers close below. directly he had got fresh cartridges in, colonel burnaby stepped back to his old place, and added another brace to his bag. but this combat between one man and a host would never take the fort, and the foremost line did not stand long at gaze, but ran up and clambered over the artificial bank, which was about four feet high, pouring a volley into the defenders as they did so. and now single combats again commenced, and the interior of the earthwork resembled an ancient arena. the theoretical duty of an officer in action was suspended, for he had to fight physically and practically like the men, the only difference lying in the arms he wielded. his sword was no longer a baton of office, but a weapon to cut and thrust with, and the better its temper and the keener its edge, the greater friend was it to him that day. not always did it prove true. captain wilson, rn, cut down an arab who was about to kill a soldier, and his blade shivered to the hilt, leaving him without a weapon to ward off a cut which wounded him, though happily not severely, in the head. captain littledale, of the york and lancaster regiment, also bent his sword over one of the soudanese in the fort, and would have lost his life had not two of his company come to his rescue. some of the men's weapons proved equally rotten. "look here, sergeant," said a fine broad-shouldered young fellow, whose face was like a sweep's with powder and dust, and whose clothes were bespattered with what tennyson delicately calls "drops of onset," as he showed his bayonet twisted like a corkscrew, with the point bent over into a hook. "why, what have you been using it for, sullivan?" asked the sergeant, taking it into his hand. "only prodding johnnies, and not above three of them. it wouldn't go into the last, and i had to polish him off with the butt end. might have smashed the stock, for their heads is uncommon hard." "it's a deal too bad," said the sergeant. "i'll show it to the captain, and he will report it. take brown's rifle and bayonet, he will never want it again, poor fellow." and indeed poor brown was lying at the foot of the parapet with a spear completely through his body, his first and last battle ended. the spears and swords of the savages did not break or bend, or lose their edge over the first bone they touched, like the weapons of their civilised opponents. fitzgerald came up, and the sergeant showed him the twisted bayonet. he was not easily put out, but the sight was too much even for his placid temper. "keep it, sergeant, keep it. we will see if we cannot get it stuck up in saint james's park with the trophies of captured guns, that the british public may see the weapons soldiers are sent out to fight with. the man who is responsible for this, and the fellow who forged it, ought to be shot." "_forged_ is a good word," said major elmfoot. "to pass off stuff like that for good steel is rank forgery, and a worse crime than making bad money, for here men's lives are sacrificed by it." "i wish we had some of 'em here!" murmured one of the men. "aye, and the triangles rigged up," said another, "i should like to lay on the first dozen myself." and so say all of us. this conversation took place after the earthwork was cleared of the enemy--at least of the living enemy, for the whole interior was crowded with their dead--and while the sailors and artillerymen were turning the two krupp guns found in it upon the retiring foe and the ruins of the old sugar-mill to which the soudanese still clung. and the troops had a little rest while the leaders determined the direction of the next attack. and the water-bottles you may be sure were mostly drained, for the men's throats were like lime-kilns. an officer standing on the highest part of the parapet beckoned to strachan, who doubled up and joined the group assembled there. "look," said the friend who had called him, pointing to the right, "the cavalry are going to have their turn." sure enough, there were the three lines of cavalry, advancing at a walk towards the dense hordes of soudanese who covered the plain, some retiring slowly and reluctantly, but the majority still holding their ground. as they drew nearer the hussars broke into a trot, and then, when quite close, they were loosed, and swept down on the foe at full gallop, a simoon of glittering steel. surely the grandest sight the modern world can afford; the last remnant of chivalry. for ever since the invention of fire-arms the infantry officer's place in battle has necessarily been in rear of his men; but the cavalry officer still rides in front, yards in front. he believes that his men are behind him, but he sees them not. alone he plunges into the enemy's ranks, and the first shock of the encounter is his. he is a knight without his grandsire's defensive armour, and exposed to rifle bullets and bursting shells, which the old paladin knew not. "oh, to be with them!" cried tom in his excitement, uttering what was in the hearts of all the group, as with eager eyes, parted lips, and breath coming short, they saw the line swallowed up in the sea of arabs. a minute's confusion, with nothing distinguishable but the flash of weapons, and they re-appeared _beyond_ the masses through whom they cut their way, prostrate figures marking their track, and were now serrying their ranks, disordered in the fierce passage. but the spectators could watch no more, for the shells failed to dislodge the arabs from the ruined mill, and it was impossible to advance and leave any such indomitable fanatics, who cared not for numbers and despised death, so long as they could wreak their wrath upon an infidel, in their rear; and the immediate business was to turn them out of that lair. there were about a couple of hundred sheltered by the ruin and the old boiler; and for some distance round about the ground was regularly honey-combed with rifle-pits, each of which contained an arab, crouching down, spear in hand, only desiring to kill an enemy and die. it was said before that they swarmed out of the fort earlier in the day like bees when their hive is tapped. like bees, too, when angered, they only sought to sting, though they knew that the act of stinging was their own destruction. as a soldier came to the edge of an apparently empty hole in the ground, a man would spring out upon him and transfix him before he had time to offer resistance. not that this succeeded often. the men soon learned to approach these rifle-pits with their muzzles lowered, finger on trigger, the point of the bayonet over the opening before they came up to it. then, if the arab made his spring, he was transfixed; if he kept crouching, waiting for the other to pass, he was shot. a large number of the holes became the graves they looked like before the boiler was reached. here the massacre was horrible, for at that point the state of things was reversed, and the soudanese were few in number, while the english were the many. and it was a revolting thing to have to shoot down and stab this handful of heroes. but it could not be helped; they would not fly, and they would not surrender; and to endeavour to spare one of them was to insure your own death or that of a friend. it was even necessary to slay the slain, for they would sham and lie still, to spring up when the english had passed and stab one in the back; then stand with extended arms to be shot, with a smile of triumph and joy, secure of paradise since he had sent a double-dyed infidel, a disbeliever, both in mahomet and the mahdi, to his doom. the old sugar-mill and the ground about it being at length cleared, the victorious square advanced upon the wells. the whole body of arabs were now in retreat, dismayed at last by the terrible slaughter amongst their best and bravest; for the reckless heroism which is described, though there were so many hundreds of examples of it, as to entitle it to be fairly considered as characteristic of the race, could not, of course, be universal, or they would be absolutely invincible, except by extermination. they were brave, every man and boy of them, but the vast majority were not mad fanatics; and, indeed, a certain number of the tribes engaged did not believe in the mahdi at all, but joined him partly because he was the strongest, and partly because they hated the turks--and to them turks and egyptians were all one--and their oppressive corrupt government, and the mahdi had thrown it off. but they were not prepared to commit actual suicide, and did not want to go to mahomet's paradise just yet. so, after a certain number were killed without gaining any advantage, they grew disheartened, and retired. and then the machine-guns sent their continuous streams of bullets tearing through the dense masses, and volleys from the martini- henrys ran the death list up still higher, and the retreat became flight. they marched steadily on. at the wells the arab sheiks strove hard to rally their warriors, charging alone, and, in some instances, weaponless, to shame their men into following them. but it was no use. "tommy atkins" was not flurried or excited now, success had made him firm and confident, and there was no wild firing. every shot was aimed as steadily as if the charging arab were an inanimate target and whoever came within that zone of fire was swept into eternity. this was an expiring effort, and when two companies of the gordon highlanders had carried the last earthwork, with three guns and a machine-gun in it, the enemy made no further resistance, but left their camp, the huts containing the spoils of baker pasha's army--cut to pieces by them a month ago--and the wells in the conquerors' possession. a well is a grand name for a hole in the mud, but the water was fresh and plentiful, and there were ten of them. it is difficult to keep the bands of discipline very tight when men are flushed with victory, wild with thirst, and water is before them. so, perhaps, there was a little crowding which defeated its own object, causing needless delay in obtaining the coveted water for all. but order was soon restored, and every one served. "shall we go on to tokar to-night, do you think?" tom strachan asked his captain. "i hope not," replied fitzgerald; "i want something to eat, don't you? glory is all very well, but one cannot dine off it. besides, it is absurd to cram too much of it into one day. if four hours' fighting, part of which was as severe as association football playing, is not enough for one day, i should like to know what general graham would have." the general was not unreasonable, or he thought it better to hold the wells. at any rate, the troops remained in the position lately held by the enemy, strengthening it in parts, after the men had had a rest, and bivouacking there for the night. provisions came up from fort baker, and the officers of the first blankshire had a good mess--tinned beef, chicken and ham, sardines, and other delicacies, with biscuit and tea, with just a taste of rum apiece to top up with. a really useful invention is that of preserving fresh meat in tins. the man who found that out, and he who discovered chloroform, ought to go up to the head of the inventors' class, in my humble opinion. i hope they made their fortunes. you may despise tinned food at home, when you can get fresh-killed meat and poultry not so overcooked. but go a long voyage, or even on a yachting tour, travel in wild countries for exploration, or to shoot big game, and then say. and when they lit their pipes and lay round the bivouac fire, talking over the events of the day, what a time that was! the first blankshire had not come off scathless as regarded men or officers. there was a captain lying yonder with his cloak over his face who would never hear the cheery bugle call again; a lieutenant was in the ambulance tent with a bullet in his leg, forcing himself to bear the pain without moaning. and of those present, several bore gashes which would have been thought nasty at home, though after being dressed by the surgeon they were accounted scratches of no signification, beyond a certain smarting and throbbing. green had a bandage under his chin, and going up on each side till his helmet covered it. "no," he said, when asked if it was binding his self-inflicted cut of the morning; "it's the other ear. curiously enough, a bit of a shell or a bullet, or something, has taken the lobe off; and as it would not stop bleeding, and the flies were troublesome when i took off my helmet, which hurt, i asked a doctor to look at it, and he put this thing on to keep the lint in its place." "you will never be able to wear earrings, if they come into fashion for men, my poor green," said strachan. "but what is the row with your hand, edwards? i did not see it was bound up in a handkerchief before." "ah, it's nothing; only a bite." "a bite!" "yes. there was a poor little arab chap, such a game little boy, with a small spear made for him, fighting like a bantam till a bullet broke his leg and knocked him over. he lay in the first earthwork, and i tried to give him a drink, but the little rat darted up at me and bit my hand." "have you had it cauterised? i do believe these savages are mad," said the major. "and what became of the varmint?" "i don't know; we had to move on just then." "that is the worst part of these arabs, letting their children go into the ranks so soon. i hate to see babies made into little men and women. if they must fight, let them punch one another's heads with their fists." "i suppose, major, that as these arabs are always fighting with one another, if there is no one else, it becomes a necessary branch of education." "well, at any rate," said jones, who was learned in dogs--their training and management--and who, indeed, was known as doggy jones, "they need not `enter' them to the british soldier. there are plenty of egyptians for them to worry till they have come to their full growth." "that is a curious thing about general baker," said the colonel to major elmfoot. "yes, indeed, it is." "was he hit, sir?" asked dudley. "i heard something of it." "yes, by a splinter of a shell in the face, just as we came under fire." "but i saw him after that." "oh, yes; he got the wound dressed, and remounted, knowing how useful he could be, knowing the ground. but it is a nasty wound for all that, macbean says. the strange thing is that he should have passed unscathed through the hordes a month ago, when his troops fled and left him unprotected, and the chances against him looked a hundred to one, and get hit to-day; the odds were a hundred to one the other way." "the most curious case of that sort was sir charles napier," said the major. "he was one of the most unlucky men that ever lived in the way of getting hit. in every great battle in which he took part during the peninsular war he was severely wounded. but at meeanee and dubba, where he was in command, and almost everything depended upon him, and where, too, he exposed himself in a manner which made the sindhees think he had a charmed life, he did not get a scratch." "i wonder whether those indian fellows fought as hard as these arabs?" observed green. "not much difference, i should say," said the major. "they flung themselves on the bayonets, and, if not mortally wounded, seized the muzzles and pressed them to their bodies with the left hand, to get one cut at their enemy and die. i don't quite see how _that_ could be beaten in the way of game fighting, though these fellows equal it. i saw one do much the same thing to-day." "and did sir charles napier fight them in square, sir?" asked green, who was of an inquiring mind on professional subjects. "no, he met them in line, and his men had no breech-loaders in those days; not even percussion caps; only the old brown bess with a flint and steel lock, and a good bayonet on the end of her." "but perhaps the odds were not so great." "quite, by all accounts. it is true that the indians fought with swords and shields, and, after firing their matchlocks, charged home with those weapons. a swordsman requires space for the swing of his arm, so, however more numerous they may be, they must fight in looser order than soldiers armed with the bayonet, and therefore, at the actual point of meeting, each individual swordsman finds at least two antagonists opposed to him in the front rank alone. now these arabs, fighting principally with spears, can very often come in a much denser mass. i only give that idea for what it is worth. i think it may make a good deal of difference. the nature of the ground, also, would alter the condition of the contest. but, at any rate, i do not quite see how we should be safe against getting taken in the rear in any other than the square formation." chapter sixteen. touch and go! tired men cannot go on talking all night, even about the events of an exciting day, and one by one our friends rolled themselves up in their coats and went off to sleep. and how the unfortunates on sentry-go envied them! that was an infliction which tantalus escaped, but it might well compare with those which have caused his name to be embodied in our language. to feel that the lives of a number of other people as well as your own depend on your keeping extremely wide awake, when you are dead beat and have to fight against the strongest possible inclination to doze even as you walk about, is really no light trial of fortitude, though it is not reckoned amongst the hardships of campaigning. but if you are within sight of your sleeping comrades, and within hearing of their snores, it becomes doubly exasperating, and might really sour the temper if it were not for the consolatory reflection that another time _you_ will be the happy sleeper, and one of the present performers on the nose will be listening to your efforts to play upon that organ. it has been whispered that evil men when on sentry have been known to feel a grim delight in an alarm which has dissipated the slumber of their comfortable comrades, but we may surely hope that this is slanderous. however that may be, the slumbers of those who were not kept awake by the pain of wounds or by duty the night after el teb were not disturbed, and next day the main body, after a guard had been left at the wells, went on to tokar. "do you think they will fight?" asked green of one of his seniors during a short halt. "sure to," replied the other. "you saw for yourself what determined demons they are, and it is not likely that they will give up a place they have only just taken without striking a blow for it." "do you think they will fight?" asked tom strachan of another, not in the hearing of the first oracle, who had moved away. "not they!" responded the second. "after such a licking as they got yesterday all the fight will be taken out of them." "which shall we believe, green?" said tom presently. "it is very puzzling," replied the inquiring mind. "suppose we wait and see before we make up our minds." "a daniel come to judgment!" exclaimed strachan. "a second daniel! we _will_ wait." "hulloa! there's charley halton!" as a smart young cavalry officer cantered past with a message, having delivered which he came to exchange greetings with his friends. one of the most enviable of mortals was halton, a lad who might be the model for either painter or poet in search of an ideal hero. handsome, strong, active, acquiring proficiency in all games and athletic exercises almost instinctively, a horseman with the hands of a chaloner, and the seat of a land, endowed with a bright intelligence which seized the common sense of things, and comprehended the meaning of an order as well as its literal injunctions, and a happy disposition which made a trouble of nothing, he was a general favourite wherever he went. he was attached as a galloper--or bearer of orders--to the general's staff, but, being employed to take a message the day before to his own regiment, he charged with them, and the officers of the blankshire who knew him, and witnessed the charge from a distance, were anxious to know for certain what had occurred, the reports which had reached them being too contradictory for reliance. "well, charley, did you eat them all yesterday?" "not quite; we have left a few for you. eat them, by jove! they were near eating us." "why, you seemed to go through them grandly." "yes, but it was like going through water, which closes on you as you go. the beggars lay flat, or crouched in holes, and cut at the horses as they passed, to hamstring or maim them; and good-bye to the poor fellow whose horse fell! we ought to have had lances, and it would have been a very different tale. but the troopers' swords could not reach the beggars, who are as lithe as monkeys. if they had run it would have been easy to get a cut at them; so it would if they had stood up. but they were as cool as cucumbers, and dodged just at the right moment. of course some were not quite so spry as others, and got cut down; it was a case of the survival of the fittest. what acrobats they would be in time if this game lasted long enough! "but it was like a nightmare. you know when you have a dream that you are trying to kill something which won't die; some beast of the eel persuasion. we went through them, cutting all we knew; re-formed; came back, doing ditto; through them a third time; and _then_ there was no satisfaction worth calling such. the fellows were broken up indeed, and a good lot were sabred, but not so many as there ought to have been after undergoing one cutting up, let alone three. and the scattered individuals still showed fight. and we lost awfully; no wonder, for i will tell you what i saw. "a man rode at an arab who fired and missed him, and then seized his spear, with the apparent intention of meeting him as an infantry soldier should, according to cocker. but when the horse was two yards from him he fell flat as a harlequin. the trooper leant over on the off side as low as he could and cut at the beggar, but could not reach him, and the moment he was past, the arab jumped up and thrust his spear through him from behind. i never saw anything done so quickly in all my life; it was like magic. "there was a clever old soldier who was not to be done that way; when he saw he could not get at his arab, he slipped off his horse before you could say `knife,' parried his spear-thrust, ran him through the body, and was up again like a shot. but it was heart-breaking business altogether; you should have seen the horses afterwards, cut about awfully, poor things; and we lost heavily in men too. the colonel has had the dead arabs' spears collected, and armed his regiment with them; and if they get another chance, you will see much more satisfactory business, i expect. but i must be off." and off accordingly he went, his horse seeming pleased and proud to carry and obey him. and on went the brigade also towards tokar. oracle number two proved the correct one; the enemy made no stand at the place, but streamed away at their approach, while the inhabitants came out to greet them with every demonstration of joy and gratitude. interpreters were few, and apt to be absorbed by senior officers, but it was gathered afterwards that the tokarites were denouncing the mahdi as a false prophet and heretic, whose soldiers had despoiled them of their goods, and only spared their lives on condition of their believing in him, and this condition they had thought it best to pretend to comply with, though their consciences rebuked them sorely for the pretended apostacy. but though our friends of the first blankshire could not understand all this, whatever officers of other corps may have done, the pantomime of the men, women, and children was unmistakable, and was only intended to express the most enthusiastic delight. "i shall never make it out," said green. "have we relieved the place after all, then?" "cannot say; we shall find out, perhaps in general orders." "catch a newspaper correspondent; he will tell you all about it." "at any rate, the gratitude of the poor people is quite touching." "not quite, thank goodness!" cried fitzgerald; "at any rate so far as i am concerned; though a horrid old woman who cannot have washed for years, and who tainted the air with the rancid fat in her hair for yards round, tried to kiss me. but i dodged round the major's horse, and left her to him. in my humble opinion, we want the square formation quite as much to meet our native friends as our enemies." major elmfoot got away from his demonstrative female, and rode up to the group. "they seem very fond of us, sir," said stacy. "yes," responded the major. "i wonder whether they went through the same performance when the mahdi's army arrived." "but they showed fight, and he took the place by storm, did he not, sir?" "i really do not know; a spy said so. but the place does not look knocked about at all, and the people seem very jolly. i should not be surprised if the whole thing were a farce, and tokar had not been besieged or taken at all." "then you do not think they are genuine in their welcome, sir?" "i do not say that; these people have shops of a sort, i believe, and a customer is a customer all the world over." the troops bivouacked outside tokar, where nothing further occurred of any interest, and shortly afterwards they tramped back to the wells at el teb, and so to trinkitat, where they were re-embarked as quickly as might be, and steamed round to suakim, which now became the base of operations. and soon trinkitat was entirely abandoned, and since no natives lived there (how could they when they had no fresh water?) the place ceased to be a place at all in any rational sense of the word. you may have heard the old explanation of how a cannon is made: "you take a hole, and pour a lot of melted iron round it." well, trinkitat was a hole, and the english store-houses tents, soldiers, horses, camels were poured round it, and when they were withdrawn, nothing but the hole remained. but suakim was a considerable place, built of coral too, and very interesting in its way to some people. and what was of more consequence, there were many good wells close by, from which water could be obtained all the year round. suakim itself, as has been explained before, is built on an island, but the british camp was on the mainland, within the circuit of earthworks which protected the town and harbour. it was on the eighth of march that the first blankshire were landed at this camp. the look of the houses in the town disappointed some of them now they were closer. "they don't look like coral at all," said tom strachan. "if i had not been told i should have thought they were the ordinary sun-dried brick affairs whitewashed." "i vote we have a regular inspection of them on the first opportunity," said edwards, "and settle the matter once for all." "it would be kind to posterity," replied tom. "if you have so much time to spare, which i very much doubt," said macbean, "you will employ it better in visiting a very pretty place and a curious. there is just a gap in the earthworks which protects suakim, a regular breach as one may say, which has to be defended by two strong works, which the sailors have given the names of ships to--euryalus and carysfoot they call them. and why is the gap left? and why are the two forts made to defend it instead of filling it up? just because the rains, which some don't believe in, make a torrent in the proper season, and this is the watercourse, and everything which barred its passage would be swept into the sea." "i recant and apologise," said green. "the rain quite convinced me of its existence at baker's fort, i promise you. but you know you sold me so often that i hardly knew what to believe." "i never practise upon anybody's credulity in matters of that sort," said the doctor. "if a young man likes to believe that the moon is made of green cheese, i may let him; but atmospheric and scientific facts are above being trifled with. well, if you go through this gap, which is barely a mile off, you will find a very pretty place--the wells, and sycamore trees, and dates. just the place to spend a happy day. and if you take a bottle or two of champagne, and a _pate de foie gras_, i shall not mind if i make one of the party, and show you the objects of interest." but such a pic-nic was not destined to come off, nor was there even any opportunity given for testing the coral theory, for there was plenty of work to be done at the moment, and on the eleventh the intending pleasure-seekers started for baker's zereba at six o'clock in the evening. baker pasha's egyptians, though they had not proved much good at fighting, and had paid the penalty of their cowardice by undergoing a massacre which made the world thrill with horror, were very useful to the avenging force which followed so quickly on their traces. the fort they had constructed near trinkitat had done much to help the rapid and successful advance upon tokar; and now the zereba they had made eight miles out from suakim, and in the direction in which osman digna lay with his whole army, made a good first halting-place for the english troops. a zereba, it should be mentioned, is an enclosed space surrounded by thorn-covered bushes cut down and packed round it, with old packing-cases, or anything else which will afford cover to those inside. this one was particularly strong, being further protected by a mound of earth all round it. when the force, which was the same as before, with the addition of two hundred marines, and a mule battery of four nine-pounders, had gone some little way, night fell, but not darkness, for a bright moon lent them her rays. not such a moon as we are accustomed to in these latitudes, but a large brilliant orb, by whose light small print might be easily read. "you have got the best of it," said macbean, who rode up first to one friend amongst the officers and then to another, detailing information which he managed to pick up, he himself best knew how; but it was, as a rule, exceptionally correct. "the highlanders, who marched out to the zereba yesterday in the heat, suffered awfully. there were five cases of sunstroke, and lots of other men had a narrow squeak of being bowled over too." "i can easily imagine it," replied major elmfoot, "for it was hot enough in camp." "it is not exactly what you would call bracing to-night, even," said fitzgerald. and, indeed, the air was very close, and the march over the loose sand fatiguing. but the men stepped out merrily, and joke and song lightened the way. there was an improvisatore in the blankshire, whose comrades considered him a wonderful genius, though, as a matter of fact, his extempore effusions only consisted of taking some well-known song, and altering certain words or lines to suit a particular occasion. but this was far more successful than original composition would have been, because it was so readily understood and caught up; and the man was really shrewd, and often hit on something appropriate. he now trolled out in a clear, ringing voice, with every word distinct, a new version of "the poacher":-- "when i was bound apprentice in a village of blanksheer, i served my master truly for close upon a year; but now i serves her majesty, as you shall quickly hear, for 'tis my delight of a shiny night, in the season of the year." and then the chorus broke out far and wide:-- "for 'tis my delight of a shiny night, in the season of the year." and the lads laughed at the aptness of the "shiny night," for that was evident to the dullest capacity. thus encouraged, he tried a second verse:-- "as the soldiers and the sailors was a marching to his lair, old digna he was watching us, for him we didn't care; for the bayonet beats the spear when he rushes on our square, and 'tis my delight by day or night to beat the johnnies fair." towards the end of the eight miles march indeed there was less singing and laughing, for throats were dry and legs weary. what, in eight miles and at night-time? well, the next time you are staying at a sea side place, where there is plenty of sand, you try walking along it, not where it is firm, but higher up from the sea, where you sink over your ankles at every step; if you can borrow a rifle and a hundred rounds of ball cartridge and carry that too, you will be able to form a still more just opinion; but, even without that, i invite you to consider how many more miles of it you want when you have gone four. but if they were tired and thirsty they were full of spirit, and it would only have required the sight of an enemy to make them as lively as crickets again. it was midnight when they arrived, and they bivouacked outside the zereba in the square formation, every man lying down in the place he would occupy if the force were attacked, so that if the alarm sounded, he had only to snatch up his rifle and rise to his feet, and he was ready for anything. but they were not disturbed, and rested till noon on the th, when dinner was eaten, and after it, at p.m., they started once more to find the foe. as you draw cover after cover to find a fox, so in the desert you try watering-places when you are seeking game of any kind, quadruped or biped. and thus information was obtained that osman digna had a camp where all his forces were massed at tamai, a valley well supplied with the precious fluid, nine miles from the zereba. once more was theory knocked over by experience. if there is one thing upon which most people feel quite confident about with regard to egypt and the surrounding country, it is that the atmosphere is always perfectly clear, so that objects are only hidden from the eye by intervening high ground or the curve of the earth. for, as you probably know, anything on a (so called) level surface like the sea may be visible if the atmosphere allows it for ten miles, to a man on the same plane the shore say; but beyond that distance it gets so far round the globe we inhabit as to be hidden. of course the taller it is the longer the top of it can be seen, as you will often perceive a ship's top masts after the hull and lower spars have vanished. or, on the other hand, the higher the ground you stand on the further round the earth's curve you can see; so that a man living on the top of a high mountain has a longer day than one on a flat, since the sun rises earlier and sets later for him. but it was neither high ground nor the dip of the horizon which bounded the view of those quitting the zereba, but a thick, grey, british haze, which swallowed up everything a thousand yards in front, and out of which the arab hosts might pour at any moment. the order of advance was different on this occasion, two squares instead of one being formed, the right under general buller, and the left being commanded by general davis. the guns were dragged with ropes by men of the naval brigade--a tug of war with a vengeance. the haze being so thick would have made it difficult to go straight for the enemy's position had the information been as uncertain as was sometimes the case, but happily it had been ascertained that if they took a south-west course they could not go far wrong, and the compass came to their aid. the cavalry marched in rear of the square, with the exception of the scouts, who with the mounted infantry explored the ground in front, preventing the possibility of a surprise. tramp, tramp, mile after mile, hour after hour, plodded the two brigades, with many a halt to enable the man-drawn guns to keep with them. but tedium and fatigue were thought nothing of. the man who would consider a five-mile walk without an object a frightful infliction would think nothing of ten with a gun in his hand, and the chance of game getting up every minute. it is the same with all sports. how far across country could you run alone for the mere sake of exercise? and how far in a paper-chase, with the hare to run down and other hounds to compete with? think how this stimulating excitement must be intensified when there is an enemy in front of you certain to fight well, and make you do all you know to beat him. after awhile the haze grew thinner, and a range of hills loomed through it in the distance. as the atmosphere grew clearer these became distinct, and were seen to be low, while a higher range rose above them beyond. on towards the higher ground slowly moved the two brigades, with a total front of from to yards, the scouts spread in a cloud before them, and these were now amongst the spurs of the lower hills. presently a couple of them came galloping back with the report that these were clear of the enemy, who were massed further behind, and were watching the english advance. and then a group of mounted infantry were seen returning at a slower pace. "look!" cried strachan, whose eyes were remarkably good; "they have caught some natives." and sure enough the troopers could presently be distinguished, coming on in a semi-circle, driving before them a group of men who were unarmed, and declared themselves friendly, or at least no adherents of the mahdi, osman digna, or any votaries of the new mohammedan heresy. this might be true, but the officer with the scouts thought the general had better decide so knotty a point, and so they were thus brought before him, travelling perhaps a little quicker than they were accustomed to, but otherwise uninjured. "that's the way to run fellows in!" cried tom, enthusiastically. "a fellow, you see, is bound to go straight when he has several rifles pointed at his head in cold blood. there goes the interpreter. i wish the colonel would just go up and hear what it is about, because he would tell the major, and the major would tell the captains loud enough for us poor subs to hear, perhaps." "the colonel knows his duty," said fitzgerald, "and does not intrude upon the general unless he is sent for." "i know he doesn't, but i wish he did," replied tom. "however, we shall get it all out of old macbean." and sure enough, soon after the captured natives had been pumped dry and dismissed, the doctor rode up. "no fighting for you, my boys," he said. "the arabs won't meet you this time, i expect, and you have had your walk for nothing. i expect that they see that the sun will lick us single-handed, and they need not take the trouble." "what makes you say that?" "well, at el teb, you know, they kept their women and boys with them, and these carried hatchets to kill our wounded with after the fight." "that's their notion of surgery," said tom, in a very audible aside. "it goes more directly to its result than ours." "wait till you come under my hands, you young monkey! you will sing a different song then." "i have no doubt you will hurt me more than mrs arab would, doctor; but then you would cure me, you know, and she wouldn't." "never mind that cheeky boy, macbean," said fitzgerald. "why won't they fight now?" "because they have sent all their women and boys away, and that, the friendly natives say, is a sure sign." "curious; it is just the other way on with other savage people, who send their families off when they _do_ mean to fight." "but the arabs are only half savages; and besides they are quite unlike other people. why, their lucky day is friday, and their unlucky day wednesday." "yes," said tom strachan, "and robinson crusoe called his savage friday, and these fellows calls their prophet tuesday." "tuesday! what _do_ you mean?" asked major elmfoot. "mardi is the french for tuesday, is it not, sir?" "strachan, you are really too bad, to make such execrable puns in the middle of the desert." "that is it, sir? i thought even my poor flowers of speech might be welcome in such a barren waste!" soon after this the colonel was called up to the brigadier, and when he returned he communicated what he had been told to his officers. the low hills being found clear of the enemy, it was intended to occupy them at once, and then if possible to advance upon the camp and the wells, and carry that position before nightfall. but this depended on what daylight they had, for rather than risk being overtaken by darkness in an unfavourable position, it was determined to form a zereba and wait for the advance till next day. "it is just four o'clock," said strachan, looking at his watch as he returned to his company; "and surely there must be a fair chance of carrying the wells before sunset, for i see a lot of the enemy on the hills beyond. therefore i shall risk a drink," and he put his water- bottle to his lips accordingly. "hurrah! so will i," said green. "i have been fighting down the feeling of thirst for the last two hours. do you know," he added, after a refreshing and yet a tantalising irrigation of the mouth and throat, "i have been haunted by a sort of waking dream while plodding on in silence this afternoon. there was an old man who used to bring fruit and ginger-beer to the cricket-field at my school, and he has kept rising up in my memory so vividly that i could see every wrinkle in his face, and the strings which kept down the corks of his brown stone bottles as vividly as if they were before me." "i wish they were!" cried tom. "by jove, what a trade the man might drive if he could be transported here just now." "oh! and i have often scorned that nectarial fluid," groaned edwards, "or only considered it as a tolerable ingredient of shandy--" "silence!" cried strachan. "don't utter that word, or i shall simply go mad. it is quite bad enough of the exasperating green to allude to the homely pop, though one bore with it in consideration of the tender reminiscences of his childhood; but human endurance has its limits." those who reckoned on carrying the wells that night were over sanguine; when the rising ground was reached the progress of the guns was very slow; indeed, it was wonderful how the sailors managed to drag them on at all. the atmosphere had now for some time become perfectly clear; and when the infantry had surmounted the first hill they saw the broad valley of tamai, and on the hills bounding it on the further side, corresponding with the somewhat lower range, where they stood, the enemy's lines were plainly discernible. there were multitudes on foot, and others mounted, some on camels, some on horseback. the brigades halted, and the scouts pushed to the front, to unmask the enemy's position. "do you think we shall get on to-night, sir?" asked major elmfoot of the colonel. "not a chance of it," replied the chief. "but let the men lie still and have a good rest before they begin making the zereba." so they did; even the youngest and most curious had learned by this time to husband their strength and snatch forty winks whenever they got a chance. "they are at it!" cried edwards presently, as crack! crack! was heard in front; and then a couple of volleys, followed by more single shots and more volleys again, and then, when the work seemed getting really hot, sudden silence. some object had been obtained, but what it was exactly regimental officers could not know till they read all about it in the papers afterwards. however, the question of advancing that evening, which had before been answered practically, was now settled officially in the negative, and the order to make the zereba was issued. mimosa and cactus trees, many of them seven feet high, grew thickly around, so there was no lack of material. a position was chosen, protected on one side by a sand-hill, which made a natural rampart, and then parties were sent out to cut and bring in the cactus and mimosa bushes, and these were arranged round the space marked out, forming a prickly barrier. and at the same time the ground was cleared of cover where an enemy might lie concealed for from fifty to a hundred yards in every direction, and that was space sufficient to stop any number of arabs rushing across it with steady rifle-fire. and it soon became evident that this was no mean advantage, for heads were seen popping above the nearest bushes, on the borders of the zone which had been cleared, and it was evident that directly the scouts were withdrawn the arabs had followed up to the english position, and were now prowling and prying around it. as the wells could not be taken that night, and the horses could not do without water, the cavalry retraced their steps, and rode back to baker's zereba, the point from which they had started in the morning. when they were gone the enemy entirely surrounded the zereba, which was like a ship in the midst of angry waves, hungry for her destruction. while daylight lasted the men inside watched osman digna's seemingly innumerable soldiers dodging about, and when night fell the knowledge that they were there unseen, and might attack on all sides at any moment, was really calculated to try the nerves. for there is nothing more unpleasant than the idea of any one pouncing upon you suddenly in the dark. but the nerves of our friends were getting pretty well seasoned by this time. only green, who was very frank, observed to strachan that it seemed very lonely now the cavalry had gone. mr tom, to tell the truth, had the same feeling of isolation, and even his high spirits were rather damped. "i will tell you what is lonely if you like," he said plaintively, "and that is my last meal: it wants a companion very much indeed, and i could find plenty of room for it, and for a gallon or two of water besides." "yes, indeed," replied green; "if one had a good square meal well moistened, one would feel, i think, that even the enemy were a sort of company." but food and water had run very short, and some of the men were faint. the colonel made them a little speech; he was not an orator, but what he said was generally practical. his remarks on the present occasion were to the following effect-- "we are short of rations, both liquid and solid, men; but you have plenty of cartridges, and the wells are but a mile and a half off, so that we only want daylight to get as much water as we please." they got a supply sooner than was expected, however, for at half-past nine there was a bustle, and the sentries challenged; and, after a brief parley, a string of camels was admitted into the zereba, with water and other necessaries on their backs. major cholmondeley turner had brought them over from baker's zereba, and got them safely in clear of the arabs. he belonged to the egyptian carrier corps, and you may imagine how he was cheered. the men lay down in lines two deep, leaving a space of twelve feet between the front rank and the hedge of the zereba. they wore their great coats and slept with their rifles in their hands, the officers being in rear. in the twelve foot space which was left the sentries patrolled, and there was no need to ingress the necessity of vigilance upon them; the known vicinity of the enemy put them sufficiently on the _qui vive_. all, however, was quiet till an hour after midnight, when the sleepers were awakened by a tremendous fusillade, and a storm of bullets came rushing over the zereba. but as the men were lying down, or crouching under the hedge, only a few unfortunate animals were struck by the leaden shower. to show, however, what absurd things men will do in a panic, an egyptian camel driver jumped, in his fright, over the prickly hedge, and ran along it _outside_, exposed to the enemy's bullets. these failed to strike him, but an english sentry inside naturally took him for an arab trying to force an entrance, and shot him dead. the firing was still kept up by the enemy, and as some of the shots came lower, being sent through the hedges, the bivouac fires had to be put out, as their light evidently guided the soudanese in their aim. the night was cold, and this was felt all the more after the heat of the day. and the men lay shivering, unable to sleep, and wishing for day. as strachan lay thus, wrapping himself round as closely as he could in his great coat, he heard a thud just in front of him, and the man lying there gave a gasp and straightened his limbs. strachan rose and went to him, asking-- "are you hit, my lad?" but there was no answer; he was quite dead. this, however, was the only fatal effect of some four or five hours' incessant firing, for the arabs kept it up for the remainder of the night. at six o'clock the sun rose, and the enemy no longer had it all their own way. a nine-pounder was run up to the zereba hedge, and pointed in the direction from which the fusillade was hottest, and on another side a gardner was brought to bear on a bit of cover where the arabs clustered thickly. ere the sun was quite above the horizon the loud sharp report of the former cheered the hearts of those who had been so hemmed in and pestered, and a second or so after there was a second bang as the avenging shell burst right among the bushes a thousand yards off. at the same time the ger-r-er of the machine-gun told that its handle was turning, and its deadly missiles tearing through the light cover. the effect was immediate; the enemy cleared off like midges from a puff of tobacco smoke, and retired across the valley to their own lines. at eight o'clock the troops issued from the zereba and advanced, as before, in two squares in _echelon_, as it is called, which means that one was in advance of the other, but not directly in front of it. if it were, and the force were attacked, you will easily see that the rear side of the leading square and the front side of the following square could not fire at anything between them without injuring one another. or if they were on a level, side by side, it would be the same thing, the faces opposite could not use their rifles without firing into each other. but with one square a little in rear this danger is avoided, and each can support the other. take a pencil and paper and draw two squares upon it if you do not see what i mean. masses of the enemy could be seen crowning the hills in front and to the right, dark masses on the sides, distinct figures on the sky-line. the route lay across dry water-courses, which were inconvenient for the square formation, the ranks being necessarily broken in descending and ascending the sides, so causing little delays while the men closed into their places again when clear. but they pressed steadily on, the second brigade leading. if the sun rose at six, why did not the troops march before eight? you may ask. because the cavalry had to return from baker's zereba, where they had gone the night before, you may remember, to water their horses. these now came to the front and spread out skirmishing. they were soon engaged with the enemy, and the firing grew very hot, forcing the skirmishers to retire, while the arab masses pressed on. the leading square now came to the edge of a large _nullah_ or dry river-bed, sixty feet deep and two hundred yards wide, thickly strewn with boulders, and having larger masses of rock rising from its depth. this nullah was full of arabs, crowds of whom swarmed up also to the further bank, and from these a heavy fire was poured upon the square, the other sides of which were also assailed. the first blankshire was in this brigade, but not on the side next the nullah, and the men were firing rather wildly. for the first time since he joined tom strachan saw his captain, fitzgerald, in a rage. "you confounded idiots!" he yelled to his men, "what's the use of firing at them a mile off! what are you shooting at, smith--a balloon? you are no use at all, strachan; why don't you make your section reserve their fire? steady, men, steady!" all the other officers were making similar efforts, but for a time it was no good. bodies of arabs kept sweeping round some seven hundred yards off, watching their chance for a dash, and the men would keep firing at them, and, what was worse, hurriedly, without a cool aim. indeed a good aim was not to be had, for they were only dimly seen through the smoke. and it was this probably which bothered the men; the ground in front was rough, and might conceal enemies close to them; there were swarms in all directions, and they fired at those they got a glimpse of. neither was the distance anything like out of range, only recent experience had shown that it required very severe concentration of fire at the closest quarters to make any impression on these brave soudanese, and the losses which can be inflicted at seven hundred yards are slight comparatively, especially if the aim is not very cool and deliberate. "cease firing!" at last shouted a superior officer, and the word being promptly echoed by all, and enforced by actually grasping the shoulders of the most excited and flurried men, it slackened at length, and there seemed to be a good prospect of the unsteadiness calming down; and after all, this burst of wild firing had only lasted about three minutes. the atmosphere, however, was heavy; there was not a breath of air stirring, and the smoke hung in so thick a pall overhead, that it was impossible to see what was going on. "steady!" cried our friend tom, who really had not deserved his captain's reproach, for he had been struggling all he knew to restrain his men's fire, only they got out of hand with him as with everybody else for a minute. "wait till the smoke clears, unless they come out of it a yard from your muzzles. not a shot at present, or ever without a steady aim." "that's right," shouted major elmfoot; "stick to that, strachan. no more wild shooting, men. ah!" there is an infinite variety of expression in the various tones of the human voice, and that simple "_all_!" conveyed more than i can give you any idea of. there was surprise in it and dismay, but not a suspicion of panic; on the contrary, determination was clearly expressed. the accent of the exclamation indeed was so striking that strachan turned as sharply as if he had been struck, and at the further corner of the square he saw white teeth, gleaming eyes, tangled black locks, dark naked forms, and glittering spearheads, and--_british soldiers recoiling before them_! as the major uttered his cry, he crammed his spurs into his horse's sides, and with one bound was among them, cutting and pointing like a trooper, and tom found himself close to him, though whether he moved or the seething, struggling mass came upon him where he stood he did not quite know. one thing he felt sure of, that the situation was just as critical as it possibly could be. careless, light-hearted lad as he was, he could not lead the life and pass through the scenes of the last few days without becoming familiar with the thought that every hour might very likely prove his last. but that conviction, which would have been so terrible in cold blood, gave him little concern now; it was the feeling of _being beaten_ which was such mental agony. what was his life, what was the life of any man, of a million of men, compared with defeat? at that moment he would have flung himself into the fire to secure victory for his side. i do not wish to make him out an exceptional hero, and he was not a fellow to brag, but it is certain that at that crisis he felt no fear whatever, no more than when having got hold of the ball in a football match at harton, he had thought: "i must have it between the goal posts, if i die for it!" it has been explained before how he had attained a rare proficiency with his weapons; he had not fired his pistol yet, and he was as clear-headed and firm in nerve as man could be. while the chambers of his revolver were loaded he was in little danger from spearmen in front of him, for he parried the thrust with his sword, and shot the assailant _through the head_, and even an arab is knocked out of time by that. but against a thrust in the side or the back no skill or coolness could defend him. and presently he was so jammed up by retreating soldiers that he could not use his arms, and then he was quite powerless for self-help. it happened, by the best accounts, in this fashion. covered by the dense smoke, the arabs swarmed out of the nullah upon the face of the square on the edge of it. the foremost flung themselves on the bayonets; those behind pressing them on to them, the soldiers could not draw their weapons out, and found themselves hampered with dying foes, whose breast-bones were jammed against the muzzles of their rifles. if they drew back to release their weapons, the enemy took instantaneous advantage of the space yielded. when they strove to stand firm they were pushed bodily back by the dense mass surging upon them since the soudanese in rear could push on with perfect impunity wherever the bayonets were sheathed in the bodies of the front rank. the sailors who manned the machine-guns at one corner were driven back by main force with the rest, but made a desperate effort to keep back the savages, while certain parts without which the guns were useless could be removed. they succeeded, but at the cost of many lives, and then back they had to go, leaving the guns, now happily harmless, in the enemy's hands. the confusion was frightful, the front face of the square being driven back upon the rear, and the sides jammed up with them. and then the whole tangled mass was forced slowly back, fighting its hardest. for there was no turning tail; the retreating soldiers kept their faces to the foe, and where they had their arms free delivered thrust for thrust. marines and highlanders fought back to back, and fought like bull-dogs. so did the arabs for that matter; they lay tumbled over in hundreds, but others came on over their bodies. seventy english were killed in a few minutes. fighting thus the second brigade, now no longer a square, was pushed back nearly half a mile. but now the charging arabs came under the fire of the first brigade, the square on the right, up to which the enemy had not been able to penetrate. this was so well directed and murderous as to check the rear masses of the arabs, and the second brigade having only those in immediate contact to deal with, and relieved from the tremendous pressure, soon got on terms with their enemy again, shook them off, and recovered their lost formation. the battle was restored; the retreat turned into an advance. the arabs, now driven back in turn, retired some distance and opened fire, which was not very effective. indeed, in spite of it, the re- formed square, when it had recovered some hundred yards of its lost ground, was halted for a quarter of an hour for the purpose of serving out fresh ammunition, the men being exhorted not to waste it as they had done before. desirous of retrieving their former error in this respect, they were as steady as veterans now, and advancing in line, firing deliberately and with careful aim, they cleared the ground in front, and fought back to the brink of the nullah where the enemy had broken their ranks, and re-captured the guns, the first brigade moving up at the same time on their right. savage with the idea that they had been forced to retire and leave their guns, though it was principally the sheer weight of numbers that had done it, and burning with revenge, the men set their teeth and went down into the nullah, clearing all before them. the arabs defended every bush, every rock, every boulder; but there was no wild firing now, at thirty, twenty, ten paces, and even closer; every bullet had its billet, and the valley was cleared of the living, though every point which afforded cover, and had been tenaciously held by osman digna's soldiers, had its groups of corpses behind it. officers were intoxicated with delight at the way their men behaved after their early discouragement. "that's the way!" "let them have it!" "give it 'em hot, boys!" "good man, o'grady; there's another for you!" "that's your sort; never pull trigger till you can blow him to smithereens." the advance of the line was not rapid, but it left nothing living behind it. then the first brigade under redvers buller went into and across the nullah, making for the second ridge held by the enemy some half mile off, still keeping the square formation. it was well that the distance to be traversed was so short, for it was now getting on for ten o'clock, and the power of the sun was intense. the ground, too, was covered with sharp rocks of red granite, and these had become so hot as to burn the feet. but what do brave men feel in the delirium of battle? when close to the foe a volley rang out, and then from every parched throat "hurrah!" "hurrah!" "hurrah!" burst forth, as with levelled bayonets they rushed upon the broken ranks before them, and the ridge was carried. there was a second beyond it, where the arabs still lingered, and for that again they went. but the enemy, the fight at last taken out of them, made but a feeble stand, and it was carried at the first onset. but what was that firing in their rear? had a body of soudanese lain concealed somewhere? or had their dead come to life again? neither. one of the gardner guns had been overturned into the limber containing its ammunition, and set fire to. this kept burning, hissing, and firing shots like a gigantic and malevolent cracker for a long time. but the blue jackets recovered the gun. when the victorious troops crowned the last ridge, the valley of tamai lay below them, and there was spread the camp of osman digna, the object of their march, the prize for which they had been fighting. the enemy made no further attempt to defend it; they had proved to their cost that the mahdi's assurance that the infidel guns would "spit water" was a lie. they were disheartened, beaten at all points, and hundreds of their best and bravest lay in heaps on the hills and in the valleys to feed the vultures and the jackals. it was no retreat such as they often made, stalking slowly and sullenly from the field where they had been foiled, but a disorderly flight, a rout. the camp was left to the conquerors, with two standards, all their ammunition, tents, stores, and the spoils of former victories, and before noon the english, without fear of molestation, were slaking their thirst at the wells. chapter seventeen. a search. "may i go back to look for strachan, sir, if you please?" "yes, green," replied the colonel, "but take a file of men with you. i think there are none of these fellows left about, but some of the wounded may prove dangerous. where did you last see him?" "in the _melee_, sir, when the square was forced to retire. he was all right then." "and did no one see him after that?" "no one that i can hear of, sir." "ah, poor lad! well, we must hope he will turn up alive. a good officer." "well, has the colonel given you leave to go?" asked fitzgerald. "i knew he would, but stacy did not care to take the responsibility, for fear anything should happen to you. you had better take a file of men of my company; they knew him best. i wish i could go, but i have too much to do. of course, you will take a stretcher from the ambulance; it will be probably useful for some other fellow, if not for poor tom." directly green had turned from fitzgerald, a sergeant brought a man up to him. "james gubbins wishes to speak to you, sir," he said, saluting. "i beg your pardon, sir," said gubbins when called upon to unfold his wishes, "but i heerd say as you was a-going back over them hills to look for mr strachan, sir." "yes, gubbins, what then?" asked green. "well, sir, might i ask to go too? he was very kind to me, and i was in his ker--ker--company, sir;" and the man's voice faltered. "yes, gubbins," replied green, who appreciated perhaps more than others the sentiment which animated the poor fellow, for he himself had been a bit of a butt at first, and had been very grateful for tom strachan's friendship. "i am to take two men of captain fitzgerald's company, and you shall be one of them." "thank you kindly, sir." "and pick another to go with him, will you, sergeant? a fellow with his wits about him, you know." he did not add "to make up for poor gubbins's deficiency in that respect," but that was what he meant, and so the sergeant understood him. "let me see," he said, on rejoining his company; "his servant would be the best man. dodd! has any one seen dodd?" "he was killed, sergeant, just when the gun was taken." "ah, yes, so he was. who to send? no, sims, my lad; it would not do to have both idiots." "i saw mr strachan last, from all i can make out," said another man; "send me, sergeant." "ah, yes, davis, you will do. where was it though?" "it was in the nullah, sergeant. one of the johnnies got past my bayonet, and tried to wrestle, but i got my rifle at the port, and pushed it forward into his face, damaging the sights a little and knocking him down. and at that moment another of them jumped on my shoulders from a rock above, sending me sprawling on top of the chap i had just floored. i wriggled round and saw t'other with his spear up a couple of feet over my neck, when he tumbled over, and there was mr strachan, with his sword well into the johnny's stomach. i jumped up, and had no time to thank him, or see where he went. we was too busy." "all right, you go at once with gubbins to mr green; he is speaking to the major, yonder. and hark! both of you. if you see an arab lying like dead, with a weapon of any sort in his hand, run your bayonet through him first, and ask him if he is alive afterwards, for we have lost too many men as it is, and the duties will come heavy. right-about turn; quick march!" "well, good luck go with you," major elmfoot was saying, as green started. "but i fear that he must be dead, or the ambulance would have found him and brought him in." "i wish they would not talk like that," thought green, as he went off, followed by his two men. "everybody speaks of poor tom in the past tense, from the colonel to gubbins. i won't believe that he is dead till i see it; as for the ambulance, they have had plenty of work, and might easily miss him, if he is senseless, and unable to call out." he went round to the field hospital, where the surgeons were busy at work, and applied for a stretcher. but he was told it was unnecessary to take one, there were several about the fatal spot where the hard fighting had taken place, and two others which had just brought in their blood-stained burdens were going back presently. so the three went on their way unencumbered. it was perfectly calm and still; the sun was getting low in the west, but its rays, though not so scorching as at mid-day, were sickening, and productive of extreme lassitude. on the first low range of hills they crossed the bodies were not numerous, and down in the valley at the foot of them they only came upon one group. a knot of arabs retreating to their last position had evidently been overtaken by a shell bursting in their midst, and their fearfully mangled bodies showed what modern science can effect when applied in earnest to the work of war. on the next ridge the soudanese dead lay thicker; lying dotted about singly where the martini-henry bullets had stopped them, or strewed in rows like the corn sheaves where the reaping machine has passed, as the gatling guns, sweeping slowly from right to left, and pouring missiles with the regularity and continuous stream of a fire-engine, had mowed their ranks. "i say, gubbins," said davis, "we fought fairly well to-day i reckon; but do you think we should have stood against such a fire as that?" "well, i don't know," replied gubbins. "if there had been any cover near i, for one, should have felt uncommon inclined to make for it. i can't abide them shells and machine-guns." "no, it seems like fighting against lightning and thunderbolts, don't it?" said davis. but as this was an idea which required some cogitation and digesting before it could become assimilated in the gubbins' mind, it remained without reply. as they approached the edge of the nullah the harvest of soudanese lay thicker and thicker, and when they got down into the dry bed of the watercourse, they had to pick their way in places to avoid treading on the corpses. and here, for the first time, english dead lay intermingled with the arab. there was peace between them now. "look carefully here," said green, turning over a kharkee-clad body which lay on its face as he spoke: it was not his friend. "ah, would yer!" cried davis, presently; and there was a gasp and a cry, which might be rage or pain, as he thrust his bayonet into an arab who, though his legs were shattered, made a cut at him with his sword as he passed. and davis was as tender-hearted a man as ever stepped; liked playing with children; petted dogs, cats, and birds; and would risk his own life to save that of another, though a perfect stranger. he had proved it, and had the right to wear the medal of the royal humane society on his right breast. but circumstances are too strong for all of us. the search was long and ineffective. "you are certain it was in the nullah that mr strachan killed the arab who was on the top of you?" green asked davis. "certain, sir; and that rock i showed you was the one the johnny jumped off, i am pretty sure; though there's such a many of them, and they are so like, i wouldn't swear." "and you had not leisure to look very particularly. but still, though you saw him here, he may have gone back for some of his men, for in dodging the enemy round stones and bushes they got scattered a bit. we had better go over the ground where we were so hard at it." so they clambered up the further bank of the nullah, and stood again on the ground over which they had advanced, been driven back, and advanced again in the morning. here the soudanese lay in hundreds, piled up in places in heaps, three or even four deep, one on the top of another. and here too the english dead were terribly thick. but the ambulance had been at work for some hours, and all who had life in them were removed, while many of the dead had been withdrawn from the mingled heaps, and laid decently side by side, and apart. green saw that this acre of the aceldama had been, or was being, thoroughly explored, and he returned to the nullah, where the three continued their search, examining now the outlying crevices and bushes, where individual men, stricken to death, had crawled away; or the pursuing english, observing skulking foes, had spread to clear them out, and prevent being fired upon from the rear after they had passed; and searching in this manner they got separated. where could poor tom strachan have got to? the sun was sinking fast, there would not be much more daylight, and if he were not found soon he might be left without help all night. for green would not think of him as dead, and no more for that matter did gubbins, though davis had given up all hope long ago. but he did not say so. walking up the nullah a bit to the right, green came to the foot of a huge mass of black rock about twelve feet high, and he thought that from the top of that he might get a more extended view of the bed of the nullah, and perhaps discern some hollow which had not yet been explored. the climbing was not difficult, and he soon sprang up. there were smaller boulders on the little plateau, and a mimosa bush, and an english officer lying on his back, with his arms extended, and his sword attached to his right wrist. green ran to his side; it was the object of his search--tom strachan. "dead!" he cried. "poor old tom; dead after all!" he knelt down and took his left arm up in order to get nearer to his body, to feel if there was warmth in it. the arm was limp, not stiff; the fingers had been cut by some sharp weapon, and when stirred, blood dropped from them. these signs gave green fresh hope, and loosening the kharkee, he thrust his hand into his breast. certainly there was warmth! he raised the body a little, propping the shoulders against a stone, and taking out a flask he had brought for the purpose, he poured a little brandy into the mouth. it was swallowed. he gave him more, and presently he moved his lips and eyelids. his first fear over, green examined him more closely, and found that his clothes were saturated with blood from a broad wound, no doubt a spear- thrust, in the right side. surgeons were not far, and immediate assistance might be everything, so he rose and went to the edge of the rock to call davis or gubbins, who must be within reach of his voice. shouting their names, he passed close to the mimosa bush, from the cover of which a man, with tangled locks and glaring eyes, and naked, but for a waist-cloth, sprang out upon him like a wild cat. he had lost or broken his weapons, but he clasped the young officer in his arms, and bore him to the ground, and then, searching for his throat with his hands, sought to throttle him, while green, keeping his chin down to his chest, and dragging at his hands, strove to prevent his design. the movement was so sudden that he never suspected the arab's presence till he was on him. the savage wrenched his left arm free; green upon this got his right-hand down, and managed to clutch his revolver; and just as his enemy's fingers forced their way under his chin to his throat, he put the muzzle to his head and pulled the trigger. his helmet having fallen off in the struggle, his own hair was singed by the explosion, but he was free; the arab rolled away from him, his head shattered--a gruesome spectacle. just as green got to his feet again, his two men appeared on the rock. they had heard him call, and the voice had guided them in that direction; and while they were hesitating the pistol-shot told them exactly where their officer was. "he is up here, and alive," said green. "run, one of you--you, davis-- to the place where we saw the doctors and stretchers, and tell them. take good note of this spot, that you may not miss it. but i don't think they are a thousand yards off." "i shall know it, sir," said davis, and he disappeared over the side of the rock. green was now once more by strachan's side, and with gubbins' help got him into a more comfortable position. the spear-head which had wounded him, with a couple of feet of the shaft, lay close by, as if he had pulled it out before losing consciousness. the rest of the shaft also lay near, half cut through, half broken, close to the edge of the rock, and underneath that spot, at the foot of the crag, was the body of an arab--head amongst the large stones, feet and legs uppermost--resting on the steep side. probably it was the man who had speared strachan, his weapon, previously hacked nearly through, breaking with the thrust. and one of the soldiers storming the rock had shot him as he was making off. as for the disarmed man who had attacked green, he had probably taken refuge up there after the tide of battle had swept past, intending to escape at nightfall, but the sight of a foe so close was too tempting for his prudence. all this, however, is only conjecture; the certain fact was that poor tom strachan had a wide wound in the side, and that green dared not move him much, because it made the life-stream well out afresh. there was nothing for it but to wait till medical aid arrived. it is surprising what trivial ideas and memories, such as tags of old songs, or anecdotes more or less appropriate to the occasion, will run in our heads when we are anxious about anything, and are forced to remain in inactivity. all the time certain lines of sir walter scott would worry green, as he knelt there by his friend: "that spear wound has our master sped; and see the deep cut on his head. good-night to marmion." over and over and over again rang the lines, till strachan himself dissipated them by moving his hand and murmuring. it was evident that what he wanted was water, and so green put his gourd to his mouth, and after a refreshing draught, consciousness returned to the wounded man's eyes. then green gently disengaged the sword-knot from his wrist, and, unbuckling his belt, returned the weapon to its scabbard, not without having to wipe it first. strachan made a movement of his hand again towards it, evidently knowing that something was taken from him. but green showed him the sword, and said, "it is all right, i am only wiping it for you;" and the other was placid again immediately, and closed his eyes. it was not long before the surgeon came, and they got strachan's kharkee jacket off, and bandaged him up. "he has lost a lot of blood," said the surgeon, "and that is why he fainted, probably." "will it kill him?" "not necessarily at all. it is a nice clean wound, and all depends upon how far it has penetrated. of course, a man cannot have a sharp instrument thrust into his body without some danger to the vital organs. the pressing matter, however, is how to lower him from this. i have got a stretcher at the bottom all right, but the sides of this rock are pretty steep for a badly wounded man to get down." "yes," said green. "but i have examined carefully all round it, and this is the best place." and he indicated a corner where there were ledges which formed steps; and here they carried tom strachan, and lowered him as gently and carefully as might be. they could not avoid a jolt or two, which elicited a moan; but it was not far to the bottom, and there was the stretcher. just as they had managed to get him settled the sun sank, and it was amidst the usual display of orange, crimson, and purple fireworks that they picked their way amongst the corpses which strewed the nullah. it was another job to carry their burden up the steep sides of this, but they managed it before darkness settled down on the battle-field. at the other side, however, they were soon forced to halt, and wait for the rising of the moon. she was up, but had not appeared over the hills yet, and the ground where they were was in such deep shadow that the bearers could not go a dozen yards without stumbling either over a dead body or the inequalities of the surface. it was a weird thing to wait there in the gloom in the midst of those who had been so full of life and vigour in the morning, and were now as motionless, senseless, as the boulders amongst which they were scattered. while waiting thus, they fancied they saw several dark figures gliding by them, and green held his revolver ready, thinking that live arabs were still prowling around, or taking advantage of the darkness to escape from the nooks where they had lain concealed. presently, however, the moon topped the higher ground, and he saw one of these moving forms more distinctly, and perceived that it was a four-footed animal, not a biped. probably they were beasts of prey stealing to the scene of carnage. it takes a good deal of the gilt off glory that the foulest beasts and birds should fake heroes for carrion. and yet, after all, this is a superficial way of looking at it, for it is the qualities of the mind--courage, endurance, patriotism, loyalty, fidelity to comrades--which make the hero, and the soul is beyond the reach of vulture or jackal. as for the mere body without it, it is of no more value than an empty champagne bottle. when there was light enough they went on again, and in due time reached the ambulance. and green, having seen his friend made as comfortable as was possible under the circumstances, returned to the bivouac of the regiment, where everybody was glad to hear that tom strachan was found alive, and that there was a good chance for him, for his good humour and high spirits had made him a general favourite. "do you know, green, you have done a very fine thing?" said the colonel. "if you had not found strachan this evening he would have been dead in all probability before morning. and you found him very cleverly." and green felt as good all over at this praise as if he had been mentioned in despatches. the battle of tamai was the end of the campaign. some folk said the troops should have taken advantage of the rout and dispersion of osman digna's tribes to march across to berber on the nile, and then khartoum would have been relieved without any further fuss. other people, who had equally good means of judging, scorned this idea, and were certain that had such a thing been attempted every man of the expedition would have perished. if the latter people were right, the authorities acted wisely; if the former had reason on their side, they acted foolishly. but as to which is which, it would be very rash for any one who does not know all the ins and outs, and has not the evidence which influenced those who had to decide, before him, to give an opinion. anyhow, the expedition returned to suakim, and the majority of the troops sailed away for different places. and osman digna had time to gather fresh fanatics together, and the soudanese recovered from the shock to their superstition and conviction of invincibility which the hecatombs of slaughter had given them, and were soon ready to fight again. and tom strachan was not so very badly hurt, but was soon able to be taken home to england to be nursed, and rejoined his regiment in six months. chapter eighteen. against the stream. a swift broad river, with the water broken into foaming wavelets by rocks which were everywhere showing their vicious heads above the surface; a string of nuggars, or half-decked boats, fifteen feet broad, forty-five feet long, flat-bottomed, each with a thick rope attached to the bows, and a string of men on the bank towing it under a hot sun. perhaps you have yourself towed a skiff on the thames, when the current was so strong that the progress made with the oars was unsatisfactory. well, if you have, you _don't_ know one bit what this was like. in the first place, the thames, even by monkey island, is still water compared to the nile between surras and dal, a sixty-mile stretch. then your skiff did not carry six tons of beef, bacon, biscuit, and other stores. it may also be safely asserted that the towing-path you walked on was not composed of sharp pointed rocks. those were the conditions under which certain picked british soldiers, one of whom was an old friend of ours, lost sight of for a considerable time, were dragging their nuggar up a series of cataracts. towing always looks to me an absurd business, much as if a man were to carry a horse about, and call it going for a ride. "are you growling or singing, tarrant?" asked kavanagh of the man behind him on the string. "not singing, you may take your davy," growled the man addressed. "i fancied not, though there is a certain likeness in your way of doing both which made me ask. i suppose you are growling then--what about?" "what about, indeed!" grunted tarrant. "d'ye suppose i 'listed as a soldier or a barge horse?" "don't know; never saw your attestation papers." "why, it was as a soldier then. i should have thought twice if i had known i was to be put to this sort of work." "really! why, when we were rowing, you did not like that, and said you would sooner be doing any work on your legs." "but i didn't mean this; why, i have cut two pairs of boots to pieces against these here sharp rocks since we began it." "ay," said kavanagh, "but you had already worn-out some of your garments at the other game, so it was only considerate to give the feet a chance." "well, it's a pity them that likes it should not have the doing of it," said the judicious tarrant. "well, you know, you could not pull an oar, and you _can_ pull a rope," said grady, "so you are a trifle more useful now than you were before; and begorra you had need." "i could pull a rope if it were over the bough of a tree, and the other end round your neck," snarled tarrant. "oh, the murdering villain!" cried grady. "and would ye be after hanging a poor boy who never harmed ye in all his life?" "well, keep a civil tongue in your head." "sure, and it's myself that has kissed the blarney stone, and can do that same. and if you had such a thing as a bottle of whisky or a pound of tobacco about you, i would make you believe you were a pleasant companion, and pretty to look at besides. but what's the use of telling lies when there's nothing to be got by it?" "suppose you were to pull a bit harder and talk a bit less," said corporal adams. "and i will, corporal dear," replied grady. "but sure i thought we was marching at ease." it may be well to explain that when troops get the word _march at ease_!--which is generally given directly they step off, when they are not drilling or manoeuvring, but simply on the route--they are allowed to carry their arms as they please, open the ranks, though without losing their places or straggling, smoke their pipes, and chat or sing if they like. at the word of command--_attention_! they close up, slope their arms properly, put away their pipes, and tramp on in perfect silence. but marching at ease was such a singularly inappropriate expression for men who were dragging a heavy nuggar up a cataract under a blazing sun that there was a general laugh, and even tarrant relaxed into a grin. a general laugh, i say, not a universal one, for macintosh, who was plodding along behind grady, preserved his gravity. "i don't say that silence is incumberous," explained corporal adams, who, since he had got his stripes, had taken to using rather fine language, "but too much talking don't go with hauling." "ho, ho, ho!" chuckled macintosh, and the corporal began to think he had said something funny. but no; macintosh had trodden on an unusually sharp flint, and that presented grady's idea of what marching at ease was in a ridiculous form to his mind. so when the pang was over he was tickled. "eh, but grady's a poor daft creature to call this marching at ease; ho, ho!" a particularly stiff bit came just now. the rope strained as if it would snap; the bows of the nuggar were buried in foam, and the men hauling were forced to take the corporal's hint, and keep their breath for other purposes than conversation. when they had got over the worst, however, the boat got jammed on a rock, and the work of getting her off devolved on the crew on board of her, unless she were so fast as to require the aid of the others, who for the present got a much-required rest. "a set of duffers, those chaps," said the sergeant in charge of the party, a young fellow named barton, of good parentage, and kavanagh's particular friend off duty. "a regular nile reis, with his crew of four natives, would never have stuck the nuggar _there_." "i wish we had them canadian vogajaws, sergeant," said corporal adams. "ay, they are first-rate," replied the sergeant. "a good many boats have them, haven't they?" "oh, yes! most i suppose, or we should not get on at all. but we have not had the luck to get them for our craft. there are only a few of these who know how to work a boat up rapids at all, and i fancy they are only apprentices at it. as for the others, one of them owned to me that he had never been on any river before the nile but the thames at putney, and his idea of a rapid was the tide rushing under the bridge." "but sure, sergeant, he can sing `row, brothers, row,' iligantly, he can," said grady. "ay, but he can't do it," replied the sergeant. "he ought to be in the water now. there's captain reece overboard and shoving; i must try and get to him. stand by the rope, men, and haul away like blazes when she shifts." what with poling, and shoving, and pulling at the rope, the nuggar was floated once more at last, and on they went again, and by-and-by the river widened, and the current was not so strong, and so long as they kept the rope pretty taut the boat came along without any very great exertion. "have a pipe out of my baccy-box, just to show there's no malice?" said grady to tarrant. "thankee, i will," replied tarrant, "for mine is so wet it won't burn. i went up to my neck in shoving off the first time we stuck, before we took to towing." "eh, but that was a chance for the crocodiles!" cried macintosh. "i saw ye go souse under, tarrant, and thought one of them had got ye by the leg. ye might have grumbled a bit then, and folks would have said you had reason." "it is all very fine," said tarrant, "and if you chaps are pleased, you are welcome; but i don't call this riding on a camel. i had as soon have stopped with my own regiment, amongst sensible and pleasant lads, and taken my chance, as have volunteered to join this corps, if i had known i was to march all the same, and lug a beast of a boat after me too. i expected to have a camel to ride on." "thank you for putting me in mind that i'm mounted," said grady; "i had almost forgotten it." "make your minds easy," said sergeant barton. "you will have plenty of camel riding in a day or two, quite as much as you like perhaps." "and i hope it will be before i have worn-out my third pair of boots," said macintosh. "eh, but this is a grievous waste of shoe-leather." "i had sooner wear that out than my own skin," said kavanagh. "i'm not that sure," replied macintosh. "the skin grows again, and the shoe-leather doesn't." the sergeant laughed. "well, i think i may promise you that you will have no more of this work after to-morrow," he said. "you will get your camels at wady haifa." barton had been specially instructed in camel drill, and selected for his proficiency to assist in training the corps to which kavanagh belonged. his story was a very simple one; he was not one of the plucked, who, failing to get their commissions, join the ranks rather than not serve at all, for it was most likely that he would have succeeded in any competitive examination, being a clever and industrious youth, who was doing well at oxford when his father lost all his money, having shares in a bank which suddenly failed, and left him responsible to the extent of every penny he possessed. the undergraduate had been accustomed to a handsome allowance, and owed bills which he was now unable to pay. this he could not help, but being an honourable man he would not incur a farthing more, but took his name off the boards at once, divided his caution money, and what was obtained by the sale of his horse, the furniture of his rooms, and whatever else he possessed, amongst his creditors, and enlisted. having once chosen his profession, he went at it with prodigious zeal, and lost no opportunity of attending any school of instruction which was open to him. when he had once acquired his drill, he was soon made corporal, then sergeant. he distinguished himself at hythe; he learnt signalling both with flags and flashes. and when useful men were wanted for the formation of camel corps, and the battalions in egypt searched for them, he was one of the first pitched upon to learn and then to instruct. for, when people talk of the super- human intelligence of german officers and soldiers, and speak of ours as a set of dunder-headed idiots, you need not quite take all they say for absolute fact. i think if you took the adjutants, sergeant-majors, and musketry instructors of the british army, you would find it hard to pick out an equal number of men in any country, even germany itself, to beat them for intelligence, common sense, and promptitude. "there will be a new drill to learn!" growled tarrant. "oh, that won't be much," said kavanagh. "lots of old words of command would do over again, i should say. for instance, `shouldare--oop!' only it would be the camel's shoulder which has to be mounted." "now, that's mighty clever," said grady. "will you tell me something, kavanagh, you that's a real scholar now--can a man be two things at the same time?" "of course he can; he can be an irishman and a barge horse, you see." "ah, then a mounted infantry man can be a trooper and a foot soldier all at once. and a camel rider, would you call him a horse soldier, now?" "no, pat, i could not afford it. i'm an irishman as well as yourself, and dull people would think it was a blunder." "that's a true word," said grady. "and have you not noticed now, when folks laugh at an irishman, he is mostly quite right if they had the understanding? now you have observed, and heard, what a bad country egypt is for the eyes. sure they give us green goggles, or we should get the--what do you call it, mr corporal, sir, if you plaze?" "the hop-fallimy," replied corporal adams, proud of being appealed to. "thank you; the hop-family, what with the sun, and the sand, and the flies. and if you get the hop-family you are likely to go blind, and that is a bad thing. is it not curious that the great river of a country that is so bad for the eyes should have cataracts itself in it? now that would sound foolish to many people, but you, who are an irishman, see the bearings of it, don't you now?" "but," observed macintosh, "a cataract in the eye is a skin, or something growing over it, and a cataract in the river is a kind of waterfall. they are not the same sort of thing at all." "and is that so? to be sure, now, what a stupid mistake then i made. and did you ever undergo the operation, now, macintosh?" "well, beyond vaccination and the lugging out of a broken tooth, i don't call to mind that i have been in the surgeon's hands; and if ye want to know the truth, i don't care if i never am. eh, but that tooth now, it took a tug!" "i thought you had never had it done," said grady. "it's a pity, sure. and what do you say makes a cataract in the nile?" "surely you have seen enough of them for yersel'. it's a rapid where the water comes down a steep part with great vehemence. but what operation are ye talking of? i expect ye mean some sauce or other." "sure, no; it's only that which they say a scotchman must have done before a joke can be got into his head. but i don't belave it at all; folks are such liars!" said grady. "i would have ye to know," said macintosh, when the others had stopped laughing, "that a scotchman is not deficient in wut, but he can't see it in mere nonsense." all this talk was not spoken right off the reel, as it reads, but at intervals, during pauses in the harder part of the work, and rests. and it was lucky they could keep their spirits up; there is health and vigour in that: "the merry heart goes all the day; the heavy tires in a mile--a!" shakespeare is always right. but the sergeant was better than his word, and that was their last afternoon of rowing or towing, for they reached the place where the camels were collected that evening before sun-down. on the very next day the new drill commenced, for there was not an hour to be lost. the last days of had arrived, and khartoum still held out. the chances of reaching that place and rescuing gordon were always present to every mind; that was the one goal to which all efforts were tending. but there was no good in for ever talking about it; on the contrary, it was more healthy to divert the thoughts, if possible, in other directions. a fall from a horse is unpleasant, and risky to the bones, but a tumble off a camel is worse, because it is more dangerous to fall ten feet than five. the first step was a difficulty--to mount the creature at all, that is. it looks easy enough, for it lies down for you. apparently all you have to do is to throw one leg over and settle yourself in the saddle. but the camel has a habit of springing up like a jack-in-the-box just as your ankle is on a level with his back, and away you go flying. experienced travellers, who have camel drivers and attendants, make one of them stand on the creature's fore legs to keep them down while they settle themselves; but troopers had no such luxuries provided for them, and had to look after their animals themselves, and it took several trials and severe rolls on the sand before some of them managed to mount at all. there the camel lay, quiet and tame and lazy, to all appearance as a cat dozing before the fire. but the moment the foot was over his back he resembled the same cat when she sees a mouse, and away you went. taught by experience, you spring into the saddle with a vault. up goes the camel on the first two joints of his forelegs with a jerk which sends the small of your back against the hinder pommel so violently that you think the spine broken. before you have time to decide this important question in your mind, the hind legs go up with an equally spasmodic movement, and you hit the front pommel hard with your stomach. surely now you are settled; not a bit of it. the beast jumps from his knees to his feet with a third spring, and your back gets another severe blow from the hind pommel. after these three pommellings you are mounted. but when you want to get off, and your camel lies down for you, you get it all over again; only your stomach gets the hits one and three, and your back the middle one. opinions differ as to which is the most pleasant, but after several repetitions of it you feel as if you had been down in the middle of a scrimmage at football, and both sides had taken you for the object to be kicked at. the ordinary traveller, when once on his camel, would stop there some hours; and again, when he got off, would remain off till it was time to renew his journey, and so he would not get so much of it. but a soldier learning camel drill must go on till he is perfect. after mounting, dismounting, and re-mounting a certain number of times, the troopers learned to anticipate the camel jerks, and avoid the high pommels which rose in front and rear of the saddles, or rather to use them as aids instead of encumbrances. but it took a good deal of practice, and some were longer about falling into it than others. but they were not always at drill, though they had so much of it. some went in for fishing, and hooks and lines had been provided by the authorities for that purpose. but the sport was very poor, little being caught, and after trying it once or twice kavanagh preferred to sit under the tree or in an arbour and smoke his pipe either alone or with a companion--sergeant barton for choice, but he was not always available. when that was the case the honest grady would sometimes join him, and though he would rather have been left to his own thoughts, it was not in his nature to show a want of cordiality towards a good fellow who made advances to him. from the day of his enlistment reginald kavanagh had frankly accepted the situation, and had been careful above all things to avoid giving himself any airs of superiority. "this is a mighty pretty spot you have fixed on, any way," said grady, stretching himself under the grateful shade of a palm-tree, "and reminds me of oireland entirely!" "it is rather like merrion square," said kavanagh, gravely; "or that perhaps combined with the phoenix park, with a touch of the lakes of killarney." "sure, now, you are making fun of a poor boy! look at that bird now! isn't he an illigant bird that? there's a many of them about, and they are the best looking i have seen at all in egypt." "do they remind you of ireland, too?" asked kavanagh. "well, now, you are too hard on me." "not a bit of it, it is only natural that they should, for they are called paddy birds." "and is that a fact now?" "certainly it is. sergeant barton told me, and he has been some time in egypt, and knows most of the birds and animals," replied kavanagh. "well, now, it is only natural that the loveliest bird in the country should be called paddy. are not the finest men and the prettiest girls at all irishmen? they call us every bad name there is, but they can't do without us. why, the general is an irishman, and the goughs and napiers are irishmen, and the duke of wellington was an irishman." "and grady and kavanagh, the best men that ever rode on camels--or who will be when they can sit them--are irishmen," cried kavanagh, laughing, and grady chuckled too. "but, now, there's a thing i want to ask you, since you are larned about animals. you may not have thought it, for i am no scholar, but when i was a gossoon i went to school," said grady presently, "and they had pictures of bastes hung about the walls, and the queerest baste of all to my fancy, barring the elephant, was the camel. i remember purty well what they told me from the mouth, though i was bad at the reading and the sums and that; and the master he said that a camel with one hump was meant for carrying things, water and potatoes and other necessities, and that was why he had only one, to make more room, and have something to tie them on by. and he said there was another camel with two humps, and he was created for riding, and was called a dromedary, and when ye rode him, ye sat at your ease between the two humps, which made a soft saddle, just like an arm-chair ye straddled on, only without arms. and ye could go fast and easy for a week, with provisions all round ye, and the dromedary he only wanted to eat and drink once a week. now, have the dromedaries died out, do ye think? or are they more expensive, and is the war office that mane it won't afford them, but trates christians like baggage?" "they were out of it altogether at your school, grady," said kavanagh. "a dromedary is only a better bred camel; it is like a hack or hunter, and a cart-horse, you know; the dromedary answering to the former. but both are camels, just the same as both the others are horses, and one hump unluckily is all either of them possess." "but i saw the pictures of them," said grady, with a puzzled look. "i wish that the pictures had been painted from real animals, and not from the artist's fancy," repeated kavanagh. "it was a general idea, i know--i had it myself--that there were two-humped camels, mighty pleasant to ride. but i believe it is all a mistake." "the one-humped beggar is not easy to ride, any how!" said grady. "no, that i vow he isn't!" cried kavanagh. "some of the camels trained to trot, and called hygeens, are a bit easier, i believe. the arabs say that they can drink a cup of coffee on their backs without spilling it while they are going at speed." "we have not got any of them in our troop," said grady. "well, we will get a bit of a holiday, plaze the pigs, the day after to-morrow, and not before i want it, for one. for what with them saddle peaks, and the rolls on the sand i have got, i don't know whether my inwards or my outwards are the sorest. but the show is beginning; and, faith, it's worth coming all the way to egypt to see the sun set." this was one of the things which made kavanagh like grady's company; he had a real innate love of the beauties of nature, which you would rarely find in an englishman of the same class. together they watched the glories of the transformation scene shifting before them. low on the horizon the deepest crimson changing and blending as it rose into violet; higher up the blue of the sapphire and the green of the emerald; and when these colours were the most intense, the two rose, and turned back to camp slowly and reluctantly, still gazing in silence. for now the after-glow succeeded; first the sky was a most brilliant orange, such a tint as would cause the painter who could at all approach it to be accused of the most absurd exaggeration by those who had not seen the real colour, while those who had would esteem it far too faint. this changed to an equally brilliant rose colour; and then, in a few seconds, suddenly, as if "lights out" had been sounded in the zenith, darkness! "it is like going to church," said grady. "yes," replied kavanagh; "that makes one feel god great and man little, doesn't it?" "aye!" they were barely a quarter of an hour from camp, and the fires guided them; for hot as it was in the daytime the nights were chilly, and a bonfire in the open acceptable. they found their mates gathered round the largest in great excitement. "here, you chaps," was the cry which assailed them when they made their appearance, "can either of you make a plum-pudding?" "of course," replied kavanagh. "there's nothing easier if you only have the materials." "well, the materials have just come; how do you work them up?" "why, make them into a pudding and boil it, of course." "any idiot knows that; but how do you make them into a pudding? if we spoil one, you know, we shan't have any opportunity of trying a second time, so none of your experiments." "that's serious!" "i should think it was!" "well, you take the flour and put it in a basin, and moisten it with water; and you put in your plums and raisins and citron, and beat up half a dozen eggs and put them in too, and three glasses of brandy, and anything else that's good you have got, and you knead it all up for a good bit, and put it in a cloth, and tie it up tight with a piece of string, and boil it as long as you can; all to-night and to-morrow and to-morrow night, and so right up to dinnertime." "it sounds pretty right," said the first speaker, doubtfully; "but how do you know? did you ever make one?" "why, i cannot say that exactly, but i have seen many made, and helped to stir them." "lately?" "not so very, when i was a boy." "it would be a sinful waste to put sperrits into a pudding," observed macintosh. "it would all boil away, and no one be a bit the better." "no fear! good liquor's too scarce for that," cried another. "brandy is a great improvement, when you have it, for all that," maintained kavanagh. but though this part of his recipe sounded to all like the dissolving of cleopatra's pearls in her drink for wilful waste, the other items of it confirmed the previous opinion of the chief cook of the troop, and the precious ingredients were entrusted to his care. when they were well mixed, an unforeseen difficulty arose about a bag to boil it in; but that was met by the sacrifice of a haversack, and at last it was consigned to the gipsy kettle which was to bring it to perfection. if it were literally true that a watched pot never boils, this would have had a poor chance, for when off drill or duty next day every man ran to have a look at it; but the proverb happily fell through, and it bubbled away famously. christmas-day dawned, and would have been hot in england for july. it is a curious experience the first christmas spent away from home in a warm climate, such a contrast to all early associations. there were decorations of palm-branches, and instead of holly cactus, which represented it well for prickliness. and there was church parade; and afterwards came dinner of tinned roast beef, fish which some of the persevering had caught in the nile, and an ostrich _egg_, which a friendly native had brought in, and which proved fresh. and the pudding! it was an anxious moment when the string was cut, and the remains of the ancient haversack were opened, and every one was relieved when the object of interest did _not_ fall to crumbs as some feared, but remained firm and intact till cut. was it good? well, the proof of the pudding is in the eating, and there was not a crumb or a plum left when the party rose. then a delightful afternoon of idleness and complete rest, which took the ache out of many a poor fellow's bones, and talk of friends in england, and reminiscences of home. and some lucky ones got letters which succeeded in reaching them the right day, and got away alone to read them; while others kept the link by writing. rather melancholy, but pleasant all the same, for the element of hope kept all sweet. and at night a huge bonfire was lit; it was cold of nights, and officers and men gathered round it for a sing-song. and there was a platform of barrels and planks on which various performances, fiddling, a hornpipe, recitations, nigger melodies, took place, the highest in command enjoying themselves as heartily as the humblest. and there was a tot of rum, not enough to hurt the weakest head indeed, but still a taste, for every one to drink to absent friends, and a rousing chorus or two, and sound sleep closing a day of thorough enjoyment. for to _taste_ a holiday you must have a long spell of real hard work. by this time the men were more at home with their queer steeds, and mounting and dismounting was no longer a painful and even perilous performance. the camels also had become accustomed to the drill, and learned to know what was expected of them. all animals work better and pick up ideas quicker in company. sometimes, indeed, one would drop suddenly on his knees without rhyme or reason that any one could guess at, and send his rider flying over his head if he were not looking out sharply; but such instances of eccentric conduct were rare, and grew still less frequent as the bipeds and quadrupeds got to know one another better. a move was now made to korti, higher up the nile, a good deal nearer the fourth cataract than the third in fact. but this journey was made on camel back instead of by boat. now, travelling by boat is not unpleasant when the boat takes you, but when you have to take the boat it is quite a different matter, and riding, even on a camel, is far preferable. and those long days on camel back, near the nile all the way, and consequently with no stint of water, were about the most pleasant experiences kavanagh and his companions had. "well, tarrant, i hope you are happy now," said a trooper one day, as the column was on the march. "happy! with tinned meat and no beer, and more flies in the open in the middle of winter than you get over a stable at home in august! i know i wish i was back in windsor barracks." "never mind, old boy; if you were there you would wish you were here." "and a jolly idiot i should be." "don't fret about that same," interposed grady, who was riding near. "it's your misfortune, not your fault. faith, we wud all be clever if we could; but sure, i thought ye would be aisy in your mind now that you had got your camel." chapter nineteen. across the loop. korti was the pleasantest place kavanagh had been to yet. it was healthy, there were plenty of trees to give shade, forage was easily got for the camels, and fresh provisions for the men, for the villages about seemed more prosperous than usual, and the inhabitants more friendly. here the camel drill was polished up and brought to perfection. they worked in this way. you must know that though the soldiers rode camels on the march, they were not intended to fight on their backs, except perhaps incidentally when they were out scouting. so their object when in immediate contact with the enemy was to get rid of their camels for the time being, but so that they might find them again and remount at the shortest possible notice. the battalion being in column--that is, suppose a double row of men on camels, forming a front and rear rank, and some way behind them another double row, and then a third, and then a fourth; that forms what is meant by a column-- well, then, the battalion, as i say, being in column, the word of command, signifying what formation the men are to take after they have dismounted, is given, followed by the words, "close order!" upon this the rear rank of the leading line jambs up to the front rank, which halts at the word. all the rear rows break into a trot and jamb up to the front in turn. when all are close and compact, the camels are told to lie down; the men dismount, and tie up their animals' legs, so that they cannot rise, with the head rope. the men who have to run out and mark the places where the others are to form when ready, get their camels knee-lashed for them by the two men whose duty it is to remain with the animals of their company. by the time the beasts are in a square, helpless mass, the markers are "covered" (or got into their proper places according to the order accurately) by an officer, and the men form on them at once. after a good deal of drill this was done very quickly, as such things are when each man knows exactly what to do and how to do it, since it is confusion and uncertainty which cause delay. when the battalion had to move away and manoeuvre at some little distance from the camels, one company was always to be left to defend them. the pleasant time at korti was soon over, and they started across the desert for shendy. if you will look at the map you will see that from korti (which you will find in the neighbourhood of old dongola, ambukoi, merawi, places written large) the nile stretches to the north for a hundred miles and more as far as abu hamed, when it makes a bend completely round, and goes south all the rest of its course. so that by cutting across the desert from korti to shendy, or rather matammeh, which is on the nearer bank of the river, an enormous distance is cut off. and since time was of the utmost importance, if khartoum and gordon were to be rescued, a force under general stewart was to take the short cut, while the rest followed the tedious windings of the nile, actually turning their backs for a precious hundred miles on the way they wanted to go. it was provoking, but it could not be helped; water carriage was absolutely necessary for the existence of the expedition. those who were to go with general stewart's force were in high spirits, and the others envied them exceedingly, for they were going straight at the throat of the enemy, and would probably relieve khartoum, disperse the arab hordes, finish the campaign; who knew? they might even bring the mahdi back in a cage, perhaps, before those following the river would have a chance of distinguishing themselves. they need not have distressed themselves; there would be plenty of hard fighting for all. you might as well know how our friend reginald kavanagh was dressed when he mounted his camel for the desert ride. picture him then in a loose red flannel tunic, corduroy knee-breeches, serge leggings, white pith helmet with a puggaree round it. over his shoulder he wore a bandolier belt with sockets for fifty cartridges, and a rifle pocket, in which the butt of the rifle was secured. the bandolier made him look something like a mediaeval musketeer; or might have reminded an admirer of dumas' wonderful story--and who is not?--of artagnan, athos, porthos, and aramis. the naval brigade was also mounted on camels, and it was great fun to see them start. the camel has been called the ship of the desert, but that was by a poet, who thought rightly enough that he said a pretty thing, but who did not mean it literally. jack did. "how this craft does roll!" cried one. "hard a port, bill, or you'll foul me." "what d'ye come across my bows for, then?" "can't help it; this here won't answer the helm. port, will you!" "port it is." "mind, messmate, your camel's going to founder, i think." but the warning came too late; the beast dropped on its knees, and jack went flying over his hideous head. love of adventure and excitement is one thing, patient endurance is another. you want to combine the two to get good soldiers, and englishmen hitherto have done pretty well. so did these, only after a certain number of hours' march they were less jocular and more vicious. when they got to the first wells, where they expected to have a rest, being by that time pretty well baked, the supply of water was found to be so scarce that they had to push on at once; but they did it for the most part in silence. "well, tarrant," said kavanagh, when they had been plodding on for some two hours in dead silence, "have you not got a growl for us?" "no, i haven't," replied the champion grumbler. "i did get a drink at hasheen, but this poor brute i am riding didn't, so i leave the growling to him." "sure it ought to be put in the _gazette_" cried grady, waking up. "first grumbler, tarrant's camel, _vice_ tarrant, contented." "i never said i was contented," replied tarrant. "only it is a consolation to know there's some one worse off than yourself." "meaning the camels?" "aye, and not only them. don't you remember that th hussar chap who came up the last halt? there was a go!" "what do you mean?" "didn't you hear? why, he belonged to captain fanshawe's troop, who went skirmishing about, and caught a sheikh, called abu zoolah. well, he said that a while ago the mudir of dongola had offered a thousand dollars for his head, and now it isn't worth the price of a pint. just think what a chance to nearly get, and miss! there's a lot of beer in a thousand dollars." "sure, yes, that's hard lines," observed grady. "what fun it would be to go out shooting, and get a thousand dollars for every man you bagged." "aye, that would make a man hold straight, if anything would," said macintosh. and there were a few spurts of talk like that, but mostly they plodded on in silence. it took close upon three days to reach gakdul wells, and during all that time the camels were not watered, the supply at intermediate wells being barely sufficient for the men. but when they got to gakdul there was abundance of the life-restoring element for all, beasts and men, thanks to the royal engineers and their pumps. for the place was as wild and romantic as you can imagine, the wells being hidden away in deep caverns with precipitous sides, in the midst of frowning and rugged rocks. the sailors, with their contempt of heights, and entire freedom from giddiness, swung themselves down into the most horrible abysses, if only they had a rope made fast at top, without a moment's hesitation, fixing pipes by which the precious fluid was pumped up and conveyed to the troops. it was a treat to see the camels drink when at last they got the chance; they sucked the water up with a loud noise, and you could trace it flowing down their necks in waves. four days is the longest period they can go without a supply. there are people in india and elsewhere who believe that when they die their souls go into the bodies of animals, and kavanagh's acquaintance with his camel enabled him to understand this odd notion, for when he looked in its eyes for some time he almost expected it to speak. it was an unsatisfactory beast in some respects, for it would not be petted in any way, and it was impossible to make friends with it. try to pet it, and it growled; persist, and it tried to bite him. i have known a dog of much the same disposition, but then he made one or two exceptions, and showed as much exaggerated fondness for them as made up for his general want of amiability. but the camel was consistent, and steadily refused to form the slightest attachment to anything human. you remember the genii in the "arabian nights entertainments" who were forced to serve powerful magicians, but who hated them and longed to tear them in pieces all the time, and did so, too, if the omission of some necessary incantation gave them the power. well, the camel seemed like one of these subjugated spirits, an excellent servant, but a most unwilling one, and resenting the power to which, forced by inevitable destiny, he yielded implicit obedience. evidently he was a fatalist, like the people he lived amongst. when he was being loaded for the journey he moaned and howled as if he were being beaten to death, and whenever a start was made, the outcry of hundreds of the creatures remonstrating at once was something perfectly unparalleled in the way of horrid and dismal noises. "sure," said grady on the first occasion, "i have often heard spake of a howling wilderness, but i never knew what it meant before at all. but i see now; it's the camel that does the howling." but once started he seemed to make up his mind to the inevitable. while he was uncertain what fate had in store for him he groaned and lamented, but once he knew the worst he thought it was no use bothering, and proceeded on his way in apparent content. indeed, that seemed to be his one aim and object, to be always going straight on to some place a long way off and never arriving, like the wandering jew. as for his appearance, you have probably often seen a camel in the zoological gardens or a wild beast show, and know his weird, shapeless, uncanny look, with the beard on his upper lip, and the hard natural pads on all parts of him which touch the ground when he subsides for loading or unloading; his chest, knees, and so on. an experienced man has described his motion when he trots in this way:--"put a horse into a cart without springs, in the cart put a rickety table; on the table place a music-stool screwed up as high as it will go. now seat yourself on the music-stool and gallop over a ploughed field, and you will have a very correct notion of the sensation of riding a trotting camel." but with practice the motion is much easier, and with so many hours in the day in the saddle the troops had plenty of practice. the position at gakdul was naturally strong, and with the aid of art was made perfectly impregnable, forming a place to fall back upon in case of need. the camels, it has been explained, utterly declined all friendly advances, but the affections of the company kavanagh belonged to were not on that account destined to grow utterly rusty for want of use, since a dog had attached himself in every sense of the word to it. where the dog came from and to whom he belonged originally were matters as mysterious as his breed, which seemed to partake of several varieties, amongst which the native sheep dog was the most perceptible. but his virtues were manifold. he joined on that day of the march when the towing commenced, and posted himself, as no one did it for him, and he was enlisted under the name of _hump_, not because of any personal deformity, but after the distinguishing characteristic of the camel. when the battalion took to riding, and, though still following the course of the nile, often lost sight of it for some hours, either because the track was better or to cut off a corner, hump carried his own water-bottle, ingeniously constructed for him by a man named thomas dobbs, out of an old preserved meat tin covered with a bit of felt, to prevent its becoming too hot; and this was fastened round his neck. when a halt was called, and he wanted a drink, he went up to one of the men, who would take off the cover and pour a little out for him. this was all very well while the river was near, but when they were about to strike across the desert, where water would be scarce, and he would hardly be able to carry enough for his own wants, it was determined to leave him behind, and he was made over to a man who promised to, take charge of him, and who was to remain on the nile. but in the bivouac at gakdul, dobbs awoke with a start under the impression that a snake was gliding over his face, and sitting up found that it was hump licking him, the empty water-bottle still round his neck. it now seemed hopeless to get rid of him, so they let him take his chance; to live if he could manage to supply himself, and to be shot should his sufferings from thirst prove too great. poor hump! the most thoughtful feared that he had a poor chance of reaching a good old age. and yet he developed a wonderful talent for finding water in unexpected places, which was useful to himself and others. sometimes when men would turn away in disappointment from a mud-hole which was indicated by a native guide as a well, but which proved to be dry, hump would sniff out some place near, and scratch, and six inches or so below the surface water would begin to ooze and trickle. on january th, , at noon, the column on the march was roused from the lethargy induced by monotonous riding hour after hour under a warm sun by distant firing. "by jabers!" cried grady. "there's an inimy somewheres after all. i began to think mr mahdi had packed up his things--it's a mighty small portmanteau most of them require--and gone out of the country entirely, with all his people." "make your mind quite easy, grady," said sergeant barton, who was riding near. "the arabs won't baulk you, if you want something to remind you of donnybrook." "it isn't for myself, mr sergeant, sir, that i care. i am a peaceable man, and would sooner get what i want quietly. it's my friend tarrant here who is spoiling for a fight, and to see him pining away before me very eyes, just for want of a little divarshion with his rifle, makes me feel quite low." "here come the scouts back!" cried kavanagh, and sure enough the hussars were seen riding in. for some time all was suspense and conjecture amongst our friends; but after awhile the news circulated from the staff to the regimental officers, from the officers to the sergeants, from the sergeants to the men, that the enemy were in position at the wells of abu klea, twenty-three miles from matammeh, the place on the nile they were working for. where was abu klea? straight to their front was a ridge of fantastically-shaped rocks, and there the enemy was in position. a little nearer square was formed, and in that formation the force advanced to the foot of the ridge, and was there halted. then, after awhile, orders were issued to form a zereba for the night, and it was soon made, the materials being plentiful and close at hand, and the camels and stores were placed within it. "men for picket!" cried a sergeant, and kavanagh, who had been warned for the duty, stepped forward and fell in with the others, and presently they were marched off and posted on one of the hills commanding the zereba. the officer in command took careful note of the position and posted his sentries, taking care to be in communication with the pickets on his right and left, and the zereba in his rear. the sentries were double, that is, there were two men on each post, and were changed every hour. an hour's sentry-go may seem to you but a short spell, but if you had a swarm of agile sharp-sighted savages prowling about you all the time, and knew that your own life and those of others who depended on you would be sacrificed if your vigilance flagged, perhaps you would find it long enough. it was ten o'clock when kavanagh was roused to go on; dobbs was his companion, and corporal adams posted them. "you are to challenge any one approximating this post," he said; "and if they say `friend' or `rounds' you must stop them and make them give the countersign. if they can't you must run them in, and if they won't be run in you must run them through with your bayonet; if they won't be run through you must wait and see if there's many of them, and if there is you must shoot. but you mustn't alarm the camp without reason, mind you." and with these somewhat conflicting "must's" and "must not's" he left them in the gloom. the position was as uncomfortable a one as kavanagh had ever been in. his imagination peopled the night around him with supple forms ready to leap upon him from behind every time he turned in walking his beat. i won't say that either he or thomas dobbs was frightened, for that would be a slur on a soldier, and one or the other might have me up for it; but they did not half like it. they had been on about twenty minutes when kavanagh thought he saw something move by a rock a little in front of him, and the next time he met dobbs, as they both patrolled to the same spot and turned, he whispered his suspicions to him, and he went with him a few paces back along his beat and gazed in the direction, but could distinguish nothing. kavanagh did not know whether to challenge or not, but thought it best to wait and watch; perhaps he might have been mistaken. presently he heard dobbs cry, "who goes there?" in a decidedly startled voice, and he brought his own rifle down to the charge. but immediately afterwards dobbs said-- "what! is it you, hump, old boy, come to do a bit of sentry-go? by jingo, you made me jump!" and no wonder; in such a ticklish situation, to have something jump upon you in the dark, when all your nerves are on the stretch, must be very startling. five minutes passed, and there again by the rock kavanagh was certain he saw a figure move this time, and he, in his turn, called-- "who goes there?" again bringing down his bayonet. there was no reply, and he waited, uncertain what to do next, when hump suddenly dashed forward with a low, angry growl; and presently exclamations were heard in an unknown tongue indeed, but which, from the accent, did not appear to be blessings. "good dog, hump; shake him, boy!" cried dobbs; but the animal was evidently doing his best in that direction without encouragement. but the man, who could not have been a dozen yards off, shook himself free somehow, and hump retired growling, from which kavanagh felt convinced there were more than one or two arabs near. presently he made out three objects against the sky-line, and thought he ought to delay no longer, so he fired at them. whether he hit anything he could not, of course, tell; but in reply to his shot there were at least twenty flashes of fire in his front, and the bullets came buzzing about the ears of kavanagh and dobbs like a swarm of hornets, though neither was touched. the picket turned out, and, as the arabs were some of them quite close to them, the sentries retired upon it. the enemy kept on firing for about five minutes, then ceased; and the sentries were advanced again, but somewhat closer in than before, since, but for the dog, these two would have been cut off. they were relieved presently; but there were two other alarms in the night, and the troops in the zereba did not get a very sound rest, having thus to stand to their arms three times. the morning at length dawned, and a sharp fire was maintained for some time from the hills, the pickets being withdrawn into the zereba. then the enemy advanced in two long lines, with banners flying, five thousand of them, an imposing spectacle, and the english soldiers grasped their weapons, thinking that the struggle had come at last. but not yet was it to be. the enemy declined to push the attack home, but halted at a distance, keeping up a galling fire. so, as men began to drop, and the day was slipping on, general stewart determined at ten o'clock to take the initiative. the camels and other encumbrances were left in the zereba with a guard, and the square advanced, working round the left of the enemy's position. the arabs retreated, and some of our young soldiers began to anticipate an easy victory. but the enemy showed that they too could manoeuvre; suddenly wheeling to the left, they came down like an avalanche on the rear of the square, bearing back the men composing it, and breaking in at one of the corners. why detail the scene? it was very much the same as that which occurred the year before at tamai, on the red sea side, to the second brigade, and which was described while we were following the fortunes of tom strachan. the hand-to-hand fighting was desperate, the slaughter terrible, and the enemy was finally beaten back. no matter; a step was taken, though deep in blood, towards the great object--the relief of khartoum, and the rescue of gordon, and hope beat high in every breast. next day, january the nineteenth, general stewart left his wounded at the wells of abu klea, which had been won, and pushed forward for matammeh at three in the afternoon. no resistance was met with, no sign of the enemy perceived all night, and when the day dawned a thread of silver shone in the south-east, and a hundred voices broke out simultaneously in a chorus of-- "the nile!" yes, there was the river, and as the light grew stronger the town of matammeh could be distinguished. at the same time the tam-tams were heard beating, and the enemy appeared swarming over the hills which intervened between the british army and the river. another zereba was constructed, for the men were exhausted with fatigue and want of food, and it was not thought wise to give battle until they were refreshed, for it is ill fighting on an empty stomach. so breakfast was got ready, the troops of the mahdi gathering round the while, like the masses of a thunder-cloud. presently it burst forth, with rifle flashes for lightning, and a deadly leaden hail. vainly the men piled up camel furniture, barrels, sacks, sand-bags, for protection; the bullets came amongst them in a storm, and they fell in all directions. and then a rumour ran through all the ranks which spread, not dismay, indeed, nor consternation, but a stern tightening of the heart-strings and bracing of the muscles, with a desire to shoot straight and strike home. the general was hit! yes, the noble stewart was down! sir charles wilson now took command. a redoubt was constructed by the royal engineers on the right of the zereba, and manned by fifty-five life guardsmen and scots greys under lord cochrane, and by this means the enemy's fire was somewhat held in check. at length the longed-for opportunity for vengeance came; the square left the zereba and advanced upon the foe. straight it went for the sandy ridge held by the enemy, who came charging down with their accustomed reckless courage. but this time they did not get up to the square. the ground was too open, the zone of fire too unimpeded, the shooting too steady. down they went in hecatombs. at one hundred yards their pace was checked, those behind embarrassed by the heaps of dead and dying blocking their path. still they struggled on to get to close quarters with the english, but at thirty yards the withering volleys were too deadly even for their supernatural bravery, and they broke and fled. steadily advanced the english troops over the ridge of sand, firing carefully while the fugitives were within range; then down to the nile at gubat, near matammeh, victorious indeed, but having paid a high price for victory. "if them arabs takes to shooting straight, and won't come on any more, it strikes me we shall be in a hole," said thomas dobbs to grady. "true for you, me boy," replied the irishman. "or at any rate we shall not be able to go about in square for them to get all round and blaze away into the brown of us." and there were some of higher rank who began to entertain the same misgivings. to resist a rush, the square was excellent, but for a long-continued fire without coming to close quarters it was impossible. many of the more sanguine, however, hoped that the tremendous losses the arabs had sustained would dishearten them--that they would awake to the fact that the mahdi was by no means invincible, and had deceived them. as for gordon, had they not had a message from him? "all right; could hold out for years." their chivalrous dash across the desert, and the hard fighting against enormous odds, the loss of valuable men, and the fall of their general, were not fruitless then, since the object of the expedition would be attained. "sure we will all get a bar with _khartoum_ on it under a medal!" said grady. "medals! bars! yah!" cried tarrant. "i'd sooner have tuppence a day extra for beer." "we've got naither the medal nor the bar nor khartoum yet, d'ye ken?" said macintosh. chapter twenty. bir-hump. "and when will we be after attacking matammeh?" asked grady, as he sat over the bivouac fire. "precious soon, i should think; we can't get on to khartoum till it's taken," said kavanagh. "and for why not?" asked grady again. "eh, man!" exclaimed macintosh, "ye would na go past it and leave all these thousands of heathens in our rear, would ye? with an army at khartoum in front, and the army here in our rear, we should be between two fires, don't ye see? never a mouthful of grub or a cartridge could get to us, and we should be peppered on all sides at once." "we might as well risk it and get it over," said tarrant. "we get nothing fit to eat as it is." "i call that stupid, talking like that!" cried dobbs. "i know the rations are a deal better than ever i expected; capital, i call them." "so they are," said macintosh; "but if tarrant had sheep's-head, haggis, and whusky itsel' for dinner, he would na be contented." "every man to his taste," growled tarrant; "and if a chap likes tinned meat he's welcome. i prefer good beef and mutton, fresh-killed, with plenty of potatoes and white bread." "and a little tripe and onions, or a swatebread after it, with pudding and lashings of sherry wine, i'll be bound," said grady. "get along wid ye, it's lord mayor of london ye ought to be. why, man, it's fighting and not ating ye've come out here for." "well, i got plenty of that between abu klea and this, anyway," replied tarrant. "a bullet went through my water-bottle early on the eighteenth, and i was without a drop for hours. i believe i have worse luck than anybody." "worse luck than anybody, you ungrateful beggar!" cried smith. "and how about richardson, your rear rank man, who got the same bullet which spoilt your bottle into his body, and died in pain that evening? i suppose you would rather _his_ water-bottle had been hit and _your_ inwards!" tarrant busied himself in stuffing and lighting his pipe, and made no reply. "well, for my part, i hope we shall have a cut in at matammeh to- morrow," said kavanagh, "so as to get on up the river at once." "aye, i hope we may," echoed half a dozen voices in chorus. "gordon and the poor chaps with him must be pretty well sick of waiting to be relieved, hemmed in all the time by those blood-thirsty savages." "eh, but it must have been bad last march, when our people won the victory at tamai, and they thought at khartoum that they were coming across to them," said macintosh. "and then to hear they had gone awa again, and left them without a bit of help but themselves." "sure, won't they be glad when they hear our guns!" cried grady. "and won't they come out and tackle the naygurs that have been bothering them on the one side, while we pitch into them on the other! we'll double them up and destroy them entoirely." "i doubt if we go at matammeh before we get reinforcements," said macintosh. "and what will we want with reinforcements?" asked grady; "haven't we bate the inimy into fiddle-strings already?" "yes, if they only knew it," said kavanagh. "but they seem to take a lot of persuading before they own themselves beaten." "they do, the poor ignorant creatures," said grady, reflectively. "and we can't kill the lot of 'em, which is what they seem to want; they are too many." "if there _is_ a big fight in a day or two we shan't be in it," said corporal adams, who had come up in time to hear the end of the conversation. "the orders are out, and our company has got to go ten miles off to- morrow." "only our company, corporal?" "that's all detailed in orders." "and does it say what for?" "it does not; rikkernottering most like. but you will hear them read presently." that was done, and corporal adams was quite correct. this particular company was ordered to take a certain amount of ammunition both for mouth and rifle, and march out in a certain specified direction. if they found water they were to make a zereba, or otherwise entrench themselves and remain until further orders; if not, they were to return at once. there was a little disappointment amongst both officers and men of the company. "we will be out of all the fun entirely," said grady. "they will catch the mahdi, relieve khartoum, rescue gordon, and have all their names in the newspapers--and we will have nothing to say to it at all, at all." "don't you believe it," said kavanagh. "the general would not send a rifle away if he were going to attack. he has heard something, or knows something we can't guess at, and means waiting for more troops to come up, you may depend. and our expedition has something to do, i should not wonder, with covering the flank of the reinforcements. we shall be called in, no fear, before the big battle is fought." but even with those who thought differently the matter did not weigh very heavily. they had already fallen into the true campaigning frame of mind which takes things as they come--good quarters and bad; fighting and resting; outpost duty or guarding stores, even wounds and death-- very philosophically. as the company was to start some time before daybreak, the men wisely left off discussing matters, and went to sleep. then came their rising while it was still night, and the raking together of the embers of the bivouac fire, and breakfasting; then the saddling and lading of camels, amid the dismal lamentations of those grievance-mongering animals; then the start in darkness, and the mind adapting itself to the lethargic monotony of the tramp. every one was chilly; every one was a trifle sullen at not being in bed; no one was inclined to talk. the silence was only broken by the _swish_, _swish_, _swish_ of the camels' feet through the sand, the most ghostlike and uncanny of sounds; so slight, so continuous, so wide-spread. to meet a train of camels in the dark would be enough to convert any unbeliever in supernatural phenomena, i mean if he did not know anything about it. when the sun rose every man seemed to wake up and feel new life in him, and they began to talk, just as the dicky birds tune up for a song on the like occasion. yet the scene was desolate and dreary enough for dante or gustave dore. after some hours' march they passed this barren land and approached the foot of a hill where the mimosa was plentiful again, and other shrubs were seen, with herbage, scant indeed, but good for camels, who will browse upon what would hardly tempt a donkey. here a halt was called, and while the men dismounted and lay down, the three officers who were with the company explored the spot. there were two mud-holes which supplied water, and had a couple of palms near them, pretty well in the open, and a third spring a hundred yards from the others, larger and deeper, and apparently yielding a better supply than both the others put together, but so near a patch of rocks and thick mimosas which would afford dangerous cover to an enemy, should any be in the neighbourhood, that it would never do to camp close by it. so when the colour-sergeant was called out presently, he learned that it had been determined to form the zereba so as to include the two smaller water holes and the palm-trees, and the ground was marked out accordingly. then all set to work to cut down mimosa bushes, and make a hedge of them all round, a gap, just admitting of one camel to pass at a time, being left on the side nearest the outside well, but not at the corner, and this gap was marked by a short hedge inside facing it. it was determined to use this outside well while they had the place to themselves, and reserve those within the zereba in case of an attack. the space enclosed was as limited as was consistent with convenience to render it more capable of defence, and the hedge was breast high, so that the men could fire over it without their aim being in any way impeded. shrubs beyond those required to form the zereba were cut down and stored for firewood, so as to remove all cover where arabs might conceal themselves as far as possible. most of this work was done before dinner, and the men had two hours' rest. after that tapes were brought out and the lines of a trench marked off, six feet from the hedge all round, and when that was done the men began to dig it out, five feet wide, one foot and a foot and a half deep, throwing the soil out on the hedge side, flattening it down and making it as firm as they could, so that if exposed to heavy fire the men might find protection, since the prickly walls, though difficult for men to struggle through, would not stop bullets. and so a good day's work ended, and the night sentries were posted between the trench and the hedge. there was no alarm that night. the next morning the camels were taken outside the zereba and watered at the large well, from which also a supply was drawn for the company; and it sufficed for all, evidently a valuable spring. that day the trench was completed, deepened a little, but not much, as it would not do for the defenders to be too low behind the hedge, and a small watch-tower commenced in the centre of the square. some quaint, distorted trees were found at a little distance, and from one of these enough timber was got for the erection contemplated. there was a flat rock which formed a foundation for it, and a rustic-looking affair, something like a summer-house, was raised some twelve feet from the rock it stood on, which was already six feet from the level plain. from this elevation an extensive view could be obtained. on the third day a balcony was made round the top of the watch-tower, the sides of which were composed of logs, which it was reckoned would be bulletproof. a few good marksmen might, without being exposed, do considerable execution from this. it also had a roof fixed over it, and the look-out man had thus a protection from the sun. the saddles, with all cases and packages, were arranged to form an inner court of the zereba, within which were the camels, and when they were lying down they were very well protected. hump, who of course had followed his company, took great interest in all these proceedings, and when the men were at work he stood with his head on one side watching them critically, and from the expression of his face, and the vibration of his tail, it was gathered that on the whole he approved. captain reece, who commanded the company, did not, as a matter of fact, much expect an attack, but he thought it only right to be prepared in case one were made, and being a man of an ingenious turn of mind, who, when a boy at harton, was known as the "dodger," he felt a special delight in constructing devices. on being ordered off on his present duty, he had gone to a friend in the royal engineers and begged a good bit of gun-cotton, carried for blasting purposes, and with this he proposed to make a mine, an electric battery and a coil of wire forming part of his baggage. there was a group of boulders two hundred yards off, which was certain to be taken advantage of by an enemy, since it formed a perfectly safe redoubt from which to fire on the zereba, or to shelter a group forming the forlorn hope of an attack. this reece fixed upon as the most favourable spot for his mine, and here the gun-cotton was placed in the position he deemed most adapted for a favourable explosion, and connected by a wire, which there was no great delay or difficulty in concealing in the sandy soil with the zereba, and so with the electric battery. "it's a sight of trouble we have taken to resave the inimy, and it will be mighty onpolite of him if he doesn't come at all," said grady. "i don't believe there's any arabs about these parts," said macintosh; "they air all together at matammeh, or else before khartoum." "you think yourself very clever, no doubt," said corporal adams, indignantly. "but do you suppose that the captain would have taken all this trouble without good information?" "nay, but with all due respect to the captain, and the colonel, and the general, and yersel', too, corporal," said macintosh, "the reports they have acted upon are native reports, and they may be good, and they may be bad, they may be honest, and they _may_ want to get detachments sent aboot to weaken the force at gubat." "well, i think you are very presumpterous," said the corporal, "very presumpterous indeed, to suppose your superior officers can be took in by a lot of johnnies that you can see through. they may attack us or they may not, seeing how ready we are for them; but they are somewhere's, you may take a haveadavy." as everybody is generally somewhere, it was difficult to contradict this statement. besides it is imprudent for a private to contradict a corporal, who has many ways of making himself disagreeable or the reverse. so the prudent scot acquiesced. "well, i am a paceable boy meself, and hate fighting," said grady. "but still it seems a pity to make such iligant fortifications and not to thry them. is there not sinse in that, now, kavanagh?" "i don't know about sense, but there's a lot of human nature in it," replied kavanagh. "i know i learned to box when i was a lad, and was never happy until i had a turn up to try my skill without the gloves. and a jolly good licking i got for my pains." "to be sure!" cried grady. "and if ye get a new knife ye want to cut something with it, or a new gun ye must be after shooting with it; and so on with anything at all. and now we have got the fortifications one is a thrifle curious to know if the johnnies could get into them." i don't know whether many of the company wanted to be attacked, or, indeed, if any did, but certainly there was a restlessness about them. they listened all day for firing in the direction of matammeh, some lying down with their ears to the ground to hear the farther. but all was still as the desert only can be, and the great battle which was expected had certainly not yet begun. but expectation of a fight excites men, and if at a distance they itch to be in it, this feeling even actuating men who fail to show any particular heroism when the pinch comes. however, wishing or not wishing to be attacked could make no difference; the arabs were not likely to consult their feelings on the subject. there was no alarm that night, and all but the men on duty slept soundly by the bivouac fires. in the course of the next morning the camels were to be taken to the outside well to be watered, and a few impediments which blocked the gap being removed they began to move out. the leader had gone twenty paces, and three others were following, when grant, one of the lieutenants who was in the gallery of the look-out with a field- glass, shouted, "halt! come back!" the man with the leading camel looked round to see if the order applied to him, and saw the lieutenant beckoning to him. "come back at once!" he repeated. the four camels went to the right-about not a bit too soon; for a puff of smoke spurted up from a mimosa bush beyond, and the vicious whiz of a bullet hinted to the leader of the camel nearest to it that it would be better for him not to stop to wind up his watch or pare his nails before he got under shelter. pop, pop, pop, pop! a camel is a big mark, and it was clever to miss the lot. one indeed had a lock of hair chipped off him, as if the marksman were an artist who wanted a painting brush; but that was the nearest approach to a casualty. the other bullets went high over everything, save one or two, which struck the sand and sent little stones flying about in a dangerous manner. but they came in contact with nothing vulnerable, and the four were back in the enclosure presently. macintosh, cleary, and two other men, the crack shots of the company, were ordered up into the balcony to try if they could show the attacking party that they could make a better use of their weapons than they could. captain reece was now up there, and the bullets were whizzing about and thudding into the logs in a nerve-shaking manner. "crouch down, men, till they are a bit tired of wasting their cartridges," said the captain, standing erect himself, however; "you could not get a fair shot yet for the smoke." when they had done so, he sat on a block of wood himself, and was then protected by the balcony. the two lieutenants and the non-commissioned officers were below cautioning the men, who were now in position all round the zereba, against firing until ordered. it was a picked corps, and they were perfectly in hand, so that not one single shot was fired during this first storm. and a storm it was; the air seemed perfectly alive with the rush of bullets, all aimed high. whether it did not occur to the arabs that the bushes of the enclosure were not impervious, or the watch-tower offered a more tempting mark, or the remington rifle stocks did not suit their arms and shoulders, and came up high i don't know, but certainly all the bullets which hit anything struck the wooden erection and the rock it stood upon. splinters of wood and chips of stone were flying in all directions, but nothing was wounded which minded it, not a man or a camel or hump, who thought the whole affair got up for his amusement, and barked with delight at the noise. the leaden shower raged for about five minutes, died down to a sputtering, and ceased. every man grasped his weapon and peered over the hedge, expecting a rush. but the enemy seemed to want to know whether they had annihilated everything with their fusillade, and kept close in cover. slowly the smoke lifted, and rolled above their positions. "now there is a chance for you, macintosh," said the captain; "above that bush, do you see? about three hundred yards." macintosh took a steady aim and pulled. the man he aimed at staggered, and came down in a sitting position, seizing his right leg, which was broken, with both hands. "an outer!" cried captain reece, who had his field-glass directed on the spot. "a miss," he said presently, as another man fired at an arab darting from a distant to a nearer bit of cover. "don't shoot at them running." an arab was taking careful note of the zereba from the rocks two hundred yards off, his head and shoulders only being exposed. cleary rested his rifle on the top of the balcony, pulled the stock firmly to his shoulder, got a fine sight on his mark, and pressed the trigger. a flash! a crack! "a bull for you, cleary!" exclaimed the captain. "you have nailed him through the head." the enemy were now more cautious, and not more than half a dozen shots were got in the next hour, but most of them told. during that time the arabs indulged in no more continued storms of fire; only captain reece drew occasional volleys, mostly from a considerable distance, as he stood fully exposed, reconnoitring the position. he did not do this recklessly or out of bravado, but simply because it was of the utmost importance to gain some idea of their numbers, which he put at about five or six hundred; not more in the immediate neighbourhood. it was an uncomfortable position, being cramped up there, imprisoned in so small a space, but not a dangerous one. the enemy kept up a dropping fire, which had no effect beyond wasting their cartridges, though after nightfall it was annoying in two ways; the english had to bivouac in the cold, for they could not light fires, and their sleep was disturbed by constant alerts. in the morning there was a lull, not a shot being fired for some hours. the marksmen went up to the balcony, but, seeing no chance of a shot, were withdrawn, and only the look-out man left there. there was some idea that the enemy might have gone away, and no one would have been sorry; for the wells inside the zereba were very inefficient, the water being soon exhausted, and a tedious waiting entailed before the wells filled again. already the men had to be put on an allowance, and in that country, where the throat is always parched, any stint of water is the greatest possible privation. but just as it was in contemplation to send out an exploring party, numbers of them were sighted again amongst the more distant bushes, and it did not go out. dinner time arrived, and the meal was served out. before the men had quite finished two sentries fired shots, and all sprang to their arms, which were handy; for every man ate, drank, slept with his rifle close to him, as it was impossible to tell at what moment he might require it. in half a minute every man was at the hedge with a cartridge in his rifle, and that was not too soon, for the arabs came at a fast run on two sides simultaneously, and even lapped round and threatened a third. "steady, now! don't shoot till you have your man covered. there's no hurry. the nearer they are the better!" cried the officers, and sergeants and corporals seconded them well. yet the commands were not necessary, so cool and steady were the men. it was as if they had been waiting so long for a chance, that they were afraid of wasting it now they had got it. nothing could be more deliberate than the way they aimed. "why did you not fire then, macintosh?" sergeant barton happened to ask; "you had a fair chance," the arab being about forty yards off, and the scotsman "drawing a bead" on him. "i was trying to get two in a line," said the economist; and presently he succeeded. being protected by the hedge naturally made the men cooler, and able to afford to reserve their fire. if any arabs were shot so far off as a hundred yards it was as much as it was, and then only because the marksman felt he was "on." indeed, with far inferior defenders the position would have been impregnable; held by such men as these, to attack it was suicide. it is hardly an exaggeration to say that every shot told; and if several hit one man, on the other hand some single bolts struck two men, and that helped to bring up the average. for a good ten minutes the plucky fanatics persevered, thirsting like tigers for the blood of their foes; and the carnage was fearful. they had no artillery to shake the defence with before attacking, and the fire was uniform as well as deadly. "give it 'em hot, boys!" "that's your sort!" "bravo, old waterproof!" this last cheer being for macintosh, who shot a chief who was leading on his tribesmen, brandishing a huge two-handed sword. "camels for ever!" "faugh-a-ballah!" "ha! ha!" "hurrah! hurrah! hurra-a-ah!" and the cheers were heard for miles across the barren waste, disturbing the beasts and birds of prey on the sites of neighbouring battle-fields from their unholy repast, as the arabs drew off to their cover in confusion, leaving the whole ground between it and the zereba strewed with their dead and dying. as they pressed back more fell, the soldiers firing at longer distances now the prospect of many more immediate chances was small. the champion marksmen ran for the balcony again, and the last victims dropped to their rifles. and soon was apparent the astonishing vitality of the arab race. the wounded, who were not mortally stricken, were seen crawling and dragging themselves to cover in all directions. had they but got the order, how delighted would the soldiers have been to quit the zereba, and dash upon the disordered foe; and that captain reece burned to give that order you may be perfectly certain. but that would have been contrary to the tenor of his instructions; and, besides, might, after all, have turned victory into disaster, for the arabs probably had received reinforcements before the attack, and the little band of englishmen might find themselves smothered with numbers in the bush. there was no more sign of the enemy that day; they lay close in cover, watching. during the night they stole out and removed many of their dead, which those in the zereba were glad of, for the numbers threatened presently to poison the air. the next day water began to grow very scarce indeed, and two men with a corporal were permitted to leave the zereba and approach the well, to try if they could get a supply without molestation, so quiet and hidden were the enemy. but they had hardly got half-way before a storm of fire was poured upon them, and they had to run back as hard as they could go, one dropping--the first casualty. the corporal and the other man, who was no other than grady, stopped, picked him up, and carried him in, the bullets cutting the ground up in puffs of dust all around. but they were not hit, and got their comrade inside amidst cheers from all who were watching them. poor hump seemed likely to come off badly, for however great a pet you may make of an animal, when it comes to a question whether you or he are to go thirsty, the animal is apt to come off second best. and the camels, who reverse the recipe of "little and often," and require "much and seldom," must fill the reservoirs, as they call their stomachs, at certain intervals, or die. and if they died the company would probably die too. poor hump! every consideration was against his getting a drink. he whined, and looked very plaintive, with his tongue hanging out. he scratched and scratched, but the water was exhausted, and only trickled into the legitimate holes by driblets. everybody was very sorry for him, but still more sorry for himself. so hump took the matter into his own hands--i was going to say, but he had not got any. i mean that he fell back on his own resources, and he simply ran across to the outside well, drank his fill, and ran back again. it never occurred to the arabs to take the trouble to shoot at a dog, so he was quite unmolested. after he had made two journeys a bright idea came into the head of thomas dobbs. the next time hump prepared to start on a watering expedition, he took off the lid of his water-bottle, which was suspended round his neck, so when the dog plunged his nose to lap, the tin went into the water and got filled; and though some of it got spilled as he trotted back, enough remained to wet the ingenious dobbs's whistle. and he improved upon this; he cut a round piece of wood, filling the can so loosely as to lie at the bottom when it was empty, and floating to the surface when full, but prevented from tumbling out by the edges of the top of the tin being bent in a bit. this prevented most of the spilling, and every excursion hump made he brought back the best part of a pint. and a pint of water, look you, was worth a good deal more than a pint of champagne in england. two more days passed; the arabs burst out now and then into a spurt of volley firing, but would not attempt another attack. they probably knew the nature of the wells, and trusted to thirst to fight for them. the little party in the zereba kept a sharp look-out for rescue, you may depend, for their position was growing more and more critical every hour. to the south was the spring, with a few trees, and the thick mimosa bush beyond. on the east were more mimosas and rocky ground in which the enemy could find cover to within five hundred yards at the furthest part; up to two hundred at one point. but on the northern and western sides the country was quite open, and the view was only bounded by sand-hills a good mile off. and it was from one of these directions that they expected help would come. so when dust was noticed, amidst which an occasional glitter flashed, on the western horizon, eyes began to sparkle and hearts to beat high, as those of shipwrecked men in an open boat when a sail comes in sight. no doubt it was a party sent to relieve them--cavalry, by the pace they came, for the cloud of dust rolled rapidly nearer. in five minutes it was within a thousand yards, and then out of it burst a single horseman, riding straight for the zereba, and the enemy, running from their cover on the southern side, strove to intercept him with their fire as he passed, while presently some twenty arab horsemen became visible, racing after the fugitive, the foremost about twenty yards from his heels. _bang_! _bang_! _bang_! from the arabs, who had run out, and were somewhat too far for the zereba fire. but the hunted man came on untouched. it is not easy, even for good shots, to hit flying with ball, and the arabs were not good shots, but the exact reverse. nearer now, with his horse well in hand, not seeking to increase his distance, glancing back to judge how far off his pursuers were. the footmen of the enemy, provoked at not being able to stop him, ran out in his course too close to the english, and two of them were presently down on the sand. others not heeding sought to cut him off, and the english could not fire without risk to him also, as they were straight in his direction. whipping out his sword, which had hitherto been sheathed, he flourished it in salutation of his friends, and rode straight at a couple of arabs in his path, loosening his rein, and digging with his spurs as he did so. he knocked one down with his horse's shoulder, and put aside the spear of the other, as he passed, and without waiting to cut at him, went straight at the zereba hedge. the horse, though covered with foam, had a good bit left in him yet, and rose at it nobly, without an attempt to refuse, and landed safely on the inside. his pursuers came within ten yards. there was a spurt of fire, and four saddles were empty. the arab horsemen wheeled round, and the broadsides of the horses presented too fair a mark. half a dozen of the poor animals were brought down by the bullets, and before they could get away the riders too were slain. neither did those who in the excitement of the moment had run out from their cover entirely escape; several deliberate shots were aimed at them, and several fresh corpses dotted the plain. "the curse of cromwell on them!" cried grady; "the more you shoot the more there are!" and it really looked like it. it was a similar phenomenon to that of the wasps in august, when, if you kill one, three come to his funeral. the man who had occasioned this commotion was carried by his horse safely over the zereba hedge, as has been said. directly he landed he found himself on the edge of the trench, and this, too, the animal cleverly got over. the rider at once dismounted, and saw captain reece before him. "rather an unceremonious way of coming into a gentleman's parlour," he said; "but i don't think i have done any damage." "not a bit; and no matter if you had," said reece. "we cannot show you much hospitality, i fear, for we are short of everything." "by jove!" exclaimed the new-comer, "i beg your pardon if i am wrong, but is not your name reece?" "yes." "you do not remember me?" "well, i am sure you will pardon me; i cannot call to mind exactly where i have had the pleasure of meeting you. was it at the rag? no, no; surely at simla, was it not?" "not exactly," said the new arrival. "don't you remember a little idiot who was your fag at harton, and used to boil your eggs hard and burn your toast, for which you very properly corrected him?" "what, strachan!" cried captain reece. "impossible! you can't be tom strachan!" "as sure as you are dodger reece. i should not have dared to call you that to your face then, though." "well, but, you know, i should never have recognised you." "i daresay not; i was twelve years old when you left harton, and i have altered a bit since, no doubt. you were seventeen, and have not changed so much." "i am very glad to see you, anyhow," said reece, "and we will have a good chat presently. just now i must not lose my opportunity; the rocks seem pretty crowded. the beggars are blazing away from every crevice about them." strachan wisely asked no questions, but watched and followed. the arabs had evidently gathered in considerable numbers about the pile of boulders among which the gun-cotton mine was buried. reece had forbidden any one to molest them from the balcony, not wishing to drive them away. he now went to his battery, attached the wires, brought two ends together, and the ground shook. there was a roar and a rattle; blocks of stone, arms, heads, legs went flying into the air, and a whole posse of arabs were seen scuttling away into the mimosa bushes. "what is bred in the bone," said strachan to himself. "he is a dodger still!" the men got some more shots at their enemies in the confusion caused by the explosion. it was a useful measure, this, however; for six men with water-cans, and six with rifles, who were waiting close to the gap, rushed out to the well the moment they heard the explosion, and in the confusion into which the enemy were thrown by an event which seemed to them supernatural, in the dust and in the smoke they accomplished their task of filling the cans and retiring without being observed, much less attacked. it was not until they were safely back in the zereba that the arabs began firing harmless volleys, in evident anger at having been out- manoeuvred. the water gained was not so much in quantity, but was a great boon nevertheless, for it had been absolutely necessary to water the camels, and that had absorbed every drop of their own springs for the last twelve hours, and was very insufficient for the poor animals then. strachan loosened his horse's girths and rubbed him down with a palm-leaf or two, doing what he could for him after his gallant efforts. it was pitiful to hear him whinny as he smelt the water in the distance, and not to be able to get him any. but perhaps a little could be spared from what trickled out by-and-by. presently captain reece came back to his visitor. "well, now i have time to ask, how on earth did you come to choose this desert for a steeple-chase course, and our little zereba for a goal?" he asked. "i am acting on the staff," said strachan; "only galloping, you know. and i was sent out to find you if i could, and tell you to make for shebacat, and, if you could, to get on to abu klea at once. if i found any of the enemy out in this direction, and could not get on, i was to return at once, and a force was to be sent to relieve you; but it was important to avoid this if possible, i was given to understand. however, i had no chance of returning, for the first glimpse i got of the enemy consisted of a small body of mounted arabs, who cut off my retreat, and chased me all the way here." "we are not to make back to gubat, then?" asked reece in surprise. "no," said strachan. "matammeh has not been carried?" "not yet; i suppose it may be soon; everybody seems to expect it. but i don't see the use now." "why not?" "well," said strachan, "one hates to be the bearer of bad news, but it must come. the expedition has been too late: khartoum has fallen." the two other officers had come up and heard this, and their faces showed the blank dismay which had fallen upon their hearts, as the words fell upon their ears. khartoum fallen! why, then, what were they fighting for? what was to happen next? all seemed chaos. "and gordon?" was the first question which rose to all lips. "there is no certain news, yet," said strachan; "but the rumours of his death are only too probable. he was not the sort of man to be taken alive, i think, was he?" "no, no!" "but when did you hear this?" asked reece. "only last night," replied strachan. "gordon's four steamers arrived while you were at abu kru, the camp at gubat, i think?" "yes, and two of them, the _bordein_ and _telh-howeiya_, had started with sir charles wilson up the river. that was on the th of january." "exactly. well, it seems when they got to khartoum they found it in the hands of the mahdi, and it was with the greatest difficulty they got away, having to run the gauntlet of several batteries and a tremendous fusillade. both steamers were wrecked coming down, and sir charles wilson, with the crews and the royal sussex men who went with him, is on an island watched by the enemy, who have got guns posted, waiting to be brought off. stuart wortley came down in a small boat with the news last night." "i could go straight to shebacat; but for abu klea i am not so certain," said reece. "i can guide you as straight as a die," replied strachan. "indeed, from shebacat you cannot miss the track." captain reece then said he had some immediate business to look to, and retired to the watch-tower, partly to have another look round, but principally to get away alone for a bit to think. it was clear to him that he must get away as soon as possible, but yet leaving would cause him to incur responsibility, which he hated. he was a brave man enough where personal danger was concerned, but to have to decide upon a matter where grave interests were at stake threw him into a cold sweat. let a superior officer be in command, and he was as jolly as possible under any circumstances; supposing he got killed, and all got killed, it had nothing to do with him--that was the commanding officer's look-out; and he obeyed him cheerfully, reserving the right to criticise him freely afterwards, supposing he were alive to do so. but here he himself had to take a decided step; he was commanding officer, and strachan had brought him no definite orders. suppose they were intercepted, and cut to pieces. the blame would fall on him. why did he quit the zereba? suppose he delayed, and a force had to be sent to his rescue, and it were proved afterwards that he could have saved the small main body all that risk and trouble, and very likely loss, if he had shown a little more enterprise. or suppose that the enemy, now a small body, assembled in force, cut off his retreat, now open, prevented all rescue, and cut them to pieces. in any case he would be blamed. he dreaded the second alternative most, because then he would be alive and ashamed. still it made his ears burn to think what would be said of him, even after he could not hear or know, if he failed. the more he thought about it, however, the more he saw that the first risk was the best to incur, and he finally determined to march that night and stand the racket. he examined the enemy's position once more carefully through his field-glass, and could only make out a few camels and a couple of horses. indeed, they could not have watered any large number, especially as they had to do so entirely by night, the well being under the fire of the zereba all the daytime. and from men on foot they had nothing to fear, let them get the shortest of starts. there was the cavalry which had hunted strachan, but they were but a handful. and the route to shebacat was open desert, so far as the eye could reach from the balcony, with but few mimosas or black rocks. when he had quite settled his plans he felt easier, and returned to the others. the two juniors had shown strachan what little hospitality was in their power, including an iron tea-cupful of muddy water for himself and a pint for his horse, who asked for more, poor fellow! with all the earnestness of oliver twist in the workhouse. "are you strachan of the blankshire?" asked grant. "yes," said strachan. "were you not wounded at tamai last spring?" "yes, i was; but i soon got all right." "is not edwards in your battalion?" "yes, he is; do you know him?" "very well; we were at sandhurst together." and this discovery of a common friend made these two feel like comrades at once. "well, strachan," said reece, coming up, "are you ready to pilot us to- night?" "perfectly ready, sir," replied strachan. "well, then, we will be off directly after sun-down. since khartoum has fallen, the troops before it will be set free, and the country perhaps will be flooded with them. this may be our best chance." "certainly." the three officers of camelry had to prepare their men for the start, and see that they got the saddles and other packages, which had been piled together to make an inner defence, separated and placed in proper position for instant adjustment. tom strachan, left alone, wandered off to the watch-tower, to have a look at it and mount to the balcony. on his way across he met a soldier, who advanced his rifle and brought his right-hand smartly across in salute, whom he recognised. "kavanagh!" he cried. "yes, sir, here i am," replied kavanagh. "no, please don't shake hands now or here," he added, hurriedly. "i do not want to be recognised at all. my captain has not remembered being with me at harton, i am glad to say." "i have your sword still," said strachan. "yes, and did good work with it at tamai," replied kavanagh. "i am glad of that." "it is a good one, indeed," said strachan; "but i don't know that i have done anything wonderful with it!" "oh, yes, i read about it in the papers. you were mentioned in despatches." "they were very kind, because i was wounded. have you heard anything of the missing will, or harry forsyth?" "not a word; but i hope for better times still," he replied. "so do i, reginald, with all my heart. you have found life as a private soldier a severe trial, i fear." "not out here, campaigning," replied kavanagh. "at home it was certainly trying at first. but the sergeant is waiting for me." and he saluted again and passed on, leaving his old chum very serious and meditative, which was not by any means his accustomed state of mind. presently hump came up to make friends, and, when strachan met grant again he learned the story of the dog and his excursions to the well, and how thomas dobbs had made him fetch water. "you were saying you did not know the name of this place," cried strachan, laughing; "you should call it after him. _bir_ is the arabic i believe for a well; you should name it _bir-hump_." the suggestion was repeated, adopted, and spread, and the entire company always alluded to the place as _bir-hump_ from that hour forward. the day waned; the camels were saddled and loaded as quietly as might be, strachan tightened the girths of his horse, and when the sun had set and the after-glow faded into darkness, all mounted, and the camels, led by strachan, defiled out of the zereba like a string of ghosts. every man had his rifle in his hand, ready to sell his life as dearly as he could; but the arabs did not issue from their cover, and they sped on at a sharp trot unmolested, strachan keeping a correct course by a compass he had, with an ingenious phosphorescent contrivance, by which he could distinguish the north point. when an hour had elapsed they all began to breathe more freely, for it is uncanny work expecting to be attacked every minute in the dark. but still strict silence was maintained. during the long night tramp, with no jingling of accoutrements, beat of hoofs, light laugh, or homely talk to break the stillness, nothing but the light _brushing_ sound, more like the whisper of sound than sound itself, caused by the movement of the camels' feet over the sand, the minds of the most thoughtless could not avoid reflection, and probably there was not one of all that company who did not think of gordon. and of him there was not a little to think. the long waiting, month after month; never disheartened or beaten; trying every device, every stratagem, to keep the foes which environed him at bay; maintaining well even _his_ reputation; anxious not for himself but for others, ready to sacrifice self indeed at any moment, cheerfully, for the sake of those whom he had undertaken to rescue; struggling on against fanatic courage without, and weakness, frailty, half-heartedness within; seeing the hearts of those in whom he was forced to trust grow fainter and fainter by degrees, in spite of his constant struggles against the effects of hope deferred upon them. and then, when the reward was just within his reach--not personal honours, for which he cared so little, but what to him was the dearest object, the rescue of those whom he had undertaken to save if possible-- to lose all by treachery, the treason of those he had trusted and forgiven. "trust makes troth," says the proverb, and gordon had proved the truth of it again and again. but it failed him; the endurance of some who had long wavered was now quite worn-out, and so he was killed, and all his heroic work nullified, all those who had depended on his efforts for safety being destroyed with him. it was a perfectly maddening thought that the ship should founder thus in the entrance of the harbour; that after so many tedious marches, thirst-sufferings, struggles against the forces of nature, desperate battles, and wide-spread misery and wretchedness, they should be just a couple of days too late. so little would have done it. a week's earlier start, a little more energy in some clerk, tailor, bootmaker, shipwright--who knows? the mind seems forced in such a case to try and fix blame upon somebody. there was no redeeming feature for the most persevering maker of the best of things to turn to experience gained? there was no use in it, for gordons do not crop up every century. his example? the lesson of it was spoiled, since his devotion resulted in failure, and he died in the bitterness of feeling that his efforts had not been appreciated, and that he had been but lukewarmly supported. we do not mean to imply that this was so. history must judge of that. we know only partial facts, and our judgment must also necessarily be affected by our feelings. but it is to be feared that it seemed so to him. the moon rose, and gloomy thoughts were lightened. there was no enemy in sight, and talk began to circulate amongst the men. captain reece, for his part, was inclined to forget everything else in his delight at having given the enemy the slip. to have carried out his orders, and sustained such an attack with the loss of but one man wounded, and he doing well, was a legitimate source of satisfaction. it is true that he was not out of the wood yet; the arabs who had chased strachan might belong to a large body that had seized shebacat. this proved not to be the case, however, and a halt was called at the wells there. first the men were supplied, and strachan's horse had a good satisfactory drink, and then the camels got an instalment of water. then they mounted again, and pushed on to abu klea, where they arrived at sunrise, and reece reported himself to the officer in command with a feeling of intense relief. he had got well out of it, at any rate, and tom strachan also had accomplished his mission satisfactorily; and next day he returned to head-quarters, not, however, without having seized the opportunity of a short unnoticed interview with his old chum kavanagh before he started. chapter twenty one. the convoy. kavanagh and his friends had no long rest at abu klea; they were soon off again across the desert, making for the nile. it was not a cheerful duty they were performing, for they were convoying a body of sick and wounded to korti, and that was rather too close a connection with the wrong side of the theatre of war. i expect that hospital nurses take quite a different view of a campaign from that entertained by high- spirited subalterns. and this present business was worse than the scenes in a hospital. do what you will to lighten his sufferings, the transport of a wounded man must always be a painful operation. these were being conveyed on camels. you have seen the seats in which little children often ride on ponies, one on each side, with a board for the feet to rest on. there were similar affairs on camels' backs, with two wounded men sitting back to back. others, whose hurts were more serious, or of a nature which prevented their sitting up, were slung in a species of litter. but, in despite of depressing influences, the escort were lightening the journey with chat and jest, when they were called to seriousness by the word-- "attention!" silence fell upon the escort, and every man was in his proper place in a second. arabs had been seen in the mimosa bushes to the right of the convoy, and it was impossible to keep quite clear of them, though, of course, the object of such a party is to avoid collision with the enemy as much as possible. half a dozen puffs of smoke spurted out of the cover, and as many bullets came singing overhead. the convoy did not halt, but moved steadily on, some of the escort dismounting, while the others led their camels. when the men on foot got a chance they halted and fired, and then doubled on again, and as they shot a very great deal better than their enemies, they made them chary of exposing themselves, and so held their fire in check. as the convoy came abreast of the position, however, the volleys broke out afresh, and the skirmishers spread, some in front, others in rear of it, to draw the fire on themselves, and away from the sick and wounded men. but not with entire success, for it seemed to be the object of the ambushed arabs to annoy these with their fire rather than to fight the escort. there was a poor fellow named binks, whose right-hand had been shattered and amputated, riding sideways on a camel, balanced by another invalid whose head had come in contact with a fragment of a shell, and was bandaged up. binks had been despondent about himself from the first, not caring very much whether he lived or died, now that he was so mutilated, for how was he to get his living without a right-hand? he asked. it was in vain that kavanagh assured him that he could do very well in the corps of commissionaires; he had not been very steady in the early part of his soldiering career, and his name had several entries against it in the regimental defaulters' book, which he was convinced would tell fatally against his chances. suddenly he flung up his left arm, the right being in a sling, and gave a deep gasp, collapsing in his seat, and falling up against his companion. all his doubts and difficulties about the future were solved, poor fellow! for he was shot through the heart. presently a camel was wounded, and sank down, groaning pitifully, if pity could have been spared for it, but most of that was absorbed by the soldier, suffering grievously from dysentery, whom he carried, and who was now thrown violently to the ground. a halt was necessary while he was otherwise accommodated, and the covering party pushed close up to the shrubby ground, taking advantage of the mimosas in their turn, and inflicting some loss on the enemy, who seemed now to have quite altered their former tactics, and to prefer distant to close quarters. when the convoy moved on again they closed upon it once more, ready to run up to it at the first signs of a rush upon it. the soudanese, however, made none; on the contrary, they seemed to find the marksmanship of the escort too accurate for their taste, for they drew off to a distance where the bush was thicker, but so far that the fire they maintained was a mere waste of ammunition. "where's grady?" cried a man. "why don't he come and take his camel?" "grady!" called the corporal. "grady!" called the sergeant; but even _his_ superior authority evoked no answer. the officer in command again halted the convoy. "he may be only wounded; we must not leave him," he said. "who saw him last?" "i can find the place exactly, sir," said kavanagh, "because of a bit of rock among the scrub which marked the place, and he was making towards it." "is it far?" "no, not five hundred yards; it was just before we ran in." "then double out and look for him. go with him, another of you, and corporal adams." but just as this start was being made grady appeared, shoving before him a man dressed in bernouse and cap, bearing the mahdi's colours of blue and white, whom he grasped by the scruff of the neck, and, when he showed unwillingness to advance, expedited his movements with a bump from his knee. what had happened was this. while skirmishing he had caught sight of a pair of human heels protruding from a bush which grew on the side of a rock, and he came to the conclusion that there probably were legs attached to those heels, and a body in continuation. so he made a detour, and crept up very softly from behind till he was within reach of those heels, which he promptly seized--or rather the ankles above them--and drew out a wriggling arab with a rifle in his hand, which he could not get a chance of using against the person who was drawing him. flattering himself that he was entirely concealed, he thought he had got a beautiful place for a pot-shot when the skirmishers had passed, and the convoy came abreast of him. and so indeed he had, and with the barrel of his remington in the natural rest formed by a fork in the boughs of a tree, he had a first-rate chance of bagging something. but he reckoned without his extremities; had he been a foot shorter, or the scrub a foot deeper, he would have remained unnoticed. "come out, you spalpeen, and drop that gun, will ye?" cried grady, and both directions were obeyed, involuntarily enough; for, as he spoke, the butt of the rifle was brought with such a jerk against the stem of a mimosa, that the owner lost his grip of it, and the same jerk landed him clear of the bush. "be quiet, my jewel, till i pick up your shooting-iron," said grady, who wanted to take back the rifle as a prize and a trophy, but feared that his nimble captive would escape him while he reached for it. so he knelt on the arab's back, he lying on his face, and taking a piece of twine out of his pocket, he tied his elbows together. then he reached out and got the rifle, and slung it over his shoulder. "and will ye plaze to get up?" he said. "you must excuse me if i am a thrifle rough, but it's owing to the resistance ye make;" and as grady, a very powerful man, was the stronger, his captive found himself on his feet and emerging into the open, without any volition of his own. "sure, and it's in mighty good luck ye should estame yourself, to fall into the hands of a tender-hearted boy like meself, who lets the dirty life stop in your haythen carcase. by all the laws of your warfare, i am bound to put my bayonet into your stomach instead of making ye a prisoner, just as if ye were a respectable sodger, who gave and took quarter like a christian. get along wid ye! ye are as bad to drive as a pig, and not a hundredth part the value of him, nor such good company either. get on, i say, or they'll be thinking you've took me, and not that i've took you. ye've got to go before the captain, and tell him what he chooses to ask you, so where's the use of struggling, making us both so uncomfortable this warm day? it's proud ye should be to have spache with a real gentleman and a british officer, ye poor haythen vagabond!" it may be observed that the last sentence was uttered in the possible, though not the certain and obvious hearing of the officer alluded to. "why, grady, what have you been up to?" was the question which greeted him. "sure and i've made an important capture; look at the clothes of him! how do you know that it is not the mahdi himself?" here the officer commanding the detachment rode up. "well done, grady," he said; "we were wanting a prisoner, and may get some valuable information out of this one. a very neat thing indeed; i shall remember it." grady saluted, and went to his camel. the prisoner had his arms freed, and was given another camel, as he seemed quiet and philosophical, and had a couple of friendly natives for companions to pump him. and the convoy went on its slow and painful journey. assured by the other arabs that no harm would be done him, the captured man became cheerful and communicative. of course there are different sorts of arabs, as there are of english or frenchmen, and this one was a philosopher who saw no particular merit in struggling against the inevitable, and was inclined to make himself as comfortable as circumstances permitted. indeed, he and his captor would have found much in common if they had passed a social evening together, and been able to hold converse; though for that it would have been necessary either for grady to learn arabic, or for the native to learn english, and neither might have thought it worth the trouble. he belonged to a tribe which had not been very keen about espousing the mahdi's cause. they were old-fashioned in their ideas, and did not like newfangled notions. besides, this might be an impostor. mahomet was good enough for them, and they wanted no other prophet. then they had profitable business relations with the egyptians, and had no desire to break off communication with them. and they also saw that something was to be made out of the english, especially if they established themselves at khartoum and opened up a trade with the black tribes towards the equator. so they were inclined to join us, and throw in their lot with ours. but one day a proclamation was issued which filled them with dismay. the english, to reconcile the inhabitants of the soudan to their presence, announced that they only desired to rescue general gordon and his garrison at khartoum, and then they would retire from the soudan. but that meant that this particular tribe, and any others who supported the english, would presently be left alone to stand the brunt of the mahdi's power; and the mahdi's motto was not "rescue and retire," but "annihilate and stop!" if they had been strong enough to stand alone it would have been different, but without the english alliance they were powerless to resist the false prophet. therefore the only course for them seemed to be to join him, and so escape the vengeance which would otherwise overtake them. and since they had hesitated and therefore incurred suspicion, it was advisable, they thought, to show the greater zeal, and they in many instances adopted the mahdi's uniform, as the present prisoner had done. but they did not thoroughly believe in him; they were not at any rate fanatical in his cause, and were not likely to impale themselves on bayonets to encourage the others, as his more earnest adherents thought it a privilege to do. at the same time they were mohammedans, and to kill an unbeliever must be always a meritorious action in their eyes. so it was a pleasure to them to pepper the christians a bit, when occasion offered, not to mention that any sort of a fight was attractive to such a warlike race. but still there was no venom in their hostility; we were enemies, of course, but enemies who might any day become friends; and grady's prisoner did not think it necessarily behoved him to sulk, refuse food, commit suicide, or, which was much the same thing, attempt to escape. so he was soon chatting freely with the natives, of whom there were a good many, for the camels conveying the invalids were led and tended by them. it stands to reason that all he said about his own tribe and others, and the number of the mahdi's followers, and the distribution of his forces, could not be accepted as implicitly correct. for, in the first place, he most likely had no accurate knowledge on many of these and similar points; and in the next place, if he had, he might more than possibly wish to mislead, rather than afford useful information. but after a certain amount of practice an officer with a head on his shoulders learns how to sift the reports gathered from spies, deserters, prisoners, and peasants, and to get a few grains of valuable fact out of bushels of chaff. so the chief interpreter went to work, and translated much useless and some practical talk. the most interesting account he had to give could not be called useful, however, because it referred to past events, and these were already fully reported; but the present party had not heard them. it was concerning the death of colonel stewart, the only english companion gordon had for so long, and of which the man professed to have been a witness in the october of . the following was the arab's account, transcribed from the note-book of sergeant barton, who could take things down in shorthand, when men spoke slowly and deliberately, or with the delay, as in the present instance, of an interpreter:-- "when gordon pasha knew that there was no hope, and that khartoum must fall, because, though he could hold his own against the enemy without, treason in the heart of the place was a thing against which he was powerless, and he knew, though no one else may have done so, that he was betrayed, he sent off colonel stewart in a steamer for a pretended purpose which imposed upon him, his real object being to save his friend by getting him out of the way when the attack, which he expected from day to day, came. "nothing would have made colonel stewart leave khartoum if he had suspected this, but he did not, and he set out in the firm conviction that his going would really be useful. so say those that should know. what is certain is that he went, and that his steamer struck on a rock in the wad gamr country, for i myself have seen it. i was with the sheikh omar at berti at the time. sheikh omar had a nephew sulieman wad gamr, a very bitter enemy of the turk, and of any one who supported the turk, but a man with a double face, who promised most and smiled the sweetest, when he had the dagger concealed in his sleeve. "colonel stewart did not like the look of him when he came to offer his services, but hassan bey, who was with the englishman, thought that sulieman was to be trusted, and so a conference was held, and sulieman undertook to find camels to take all the shipwrecked travellers on to merawi if he could. afterwards he came and said that he knew of camels, but the people who owned them were afraid that they would be taken from them by force, and if those who came to conclude the bargain had arms in their hands, there was no chance of any camels being brought forward, but if those who were to bargain for them were unarmed, it was very certain that as many as were necessary might be got. and when, seeing no other way than to trust sulieman, colonel stewart agreed to this, he was directed to go at a certain hour to the house of one fakreitman, who was blind, but to be sure to take no weapons, neither he nor any of the party. they went to fakreitman, the blind man's house, accordingly, and sulieman met them there with the men that he had instructed to carry out his secret, and others who were not entrusted. i was in the courtyard with others serving under the sheikh omar, and we wondered where the camels were, for we saw none in the neighbourhood, and yet the bargaining was going on. then suddenly, at a signal from sulieman wad gamr, the appointed men attacked colonel stewart and his companions, and there was such a scuffle as is possible when there are sharp swords and daggers on one side and no weapons at all on the other. "colonel stewart and others were soon put to death. hassan bey seized the owner of the house, the blind man, fakreitman, and held him before him as a shield, and so got clear of the house with only a slight wound. we outside might have dispatched him, but we had no orders, and did not interfere. and so he got clear, and letting the blind man go, escaped." such was the prisoner's account, and there was no reason to doubt the general tenor of it, though of course the details were not to be implicitly relied upon. the man was asked why, since he seemed to bear no particular grudge against the english, he took such pains to establish himself in a good position for a sure shot at the convoy. it was not a wise question. the arab laughed, and asked if the english had any particular enmity to the soudanese. "no," was the reply. "on the contrary, we wish to be friends with them." "and yet," said the prisoner, "you have killed twenty thousand of us in the last few moons. when we fight we mean to kill; and when we hunt we mean to kill. are you not the same?" there was no denying this; war is of necessity a game for two to play at, or else it would be sheer murder. he was questioned about gordon's death, but, though he was willing enough to talk on the subject, his information was at third or fourth hand, and did not profess to be personal, like the other account. "ah! that was a man, gordon pasha!" he said. "if he had declared himself a prophet, or the great sheikh of the soudan, the mahdi would have lost all his followers but a few slave hunters, and all would have gathered under gordon's standard. he was just, and when he said a thing every one knew that it was true. the turks were never just; they took bribes, and they sought by word and deed to deceive. but gordon pasha was the wisest and the most just ruler that ever came into the country, and he feared nothing except to offend allah. the highest and the lowest were the same to him, and it was a pity to kill him. there will never be such another." "why, then, was he murdered?" "the mahdi knew that he was a rival, and must overthrow him if he could, or else lose his power himself. and he was betrayed by those who had sinned against him, and been forgiven, but did not believe in the forgiveness. and besides that, the mahdi offered them money from the first, and when you got so near khartoum he increased this to a large sum. but all this would not have availed if men had known that gordon was going to remain as their sheikh; but where was the use of joining a sheikh who was leaving to-morrow against another who was sure to stop?" he was a shrewd fellow, this prisoner of grady's, and knew how to trim his sails to the prevailing wind. the marches of the convoy were slow, as the patients could not bear the jolt of a camel's trot; and the old medical direction, "when taken to be well shaken," would have been death to most of them, so the halts were fixed at various intermediate wells, where zerebas had been formed and held till the last load had passed, when the detachment performing that duty likewise retired. the body of binks was carried on to the bivouac for that night, and decently buried there. on the following morning the captured arab was nowhere to be seen, and it was at first feared that he had escaped in the night. but he was soon discovered, the cause of his disappearance being that he had discarded his mahdi uniform, which was now a little bundle about the size of a cocoa-nut, hanging from a projection of a camel's harness. such clothing as he wore fitted well, nature herself having measured him for it; and since he was still a young man, there were no wrinkles in it. you know how difficult it is to recognise a fellow if you come upon him down a back-water bathing, and will understand why the prisoner was missed at first. he came up presently and offered to take service, and tend a camel. it appeared to him that he had to go along with the party anyhow, and might as well improve the shining hour and earn a little money. earlier in the march one of the natives in charge of camels had been killed by one of the scattered volleys which every now and then harassed them on their journey, and two others had taken the opportunity of deserting, so that the new volunteer's services were gladly accepted. and there was the little bundle, ready to be shaken out and put on again should the fortune of war land him to-morrow amongst the adherents of the mahdi. quite a man of the world, this arab. in the course of his long talk with the interpreter the day before, kavanagh, who was riding at his side, rifle in hand, having been made responsible for his safe custody, heard a name repeated several times which struck him as familiar, and which he yet could not associate with anything in particular. _burrachee_! whereon earth had he ever heard the word burrachee? he had dreamt it, or fancied it, or was thinking of that word which expresses the taste given to wine by the skin in which it is stored in some places. and he tried to drive it from his head. but that night he was for guard, and while doing his tour of sentry it flashed upon him in a second. burrachee, the sheikh burrachee; that was the name of the mohammedan uncle of harry forsyth, who lived amongst the arabs of the soudan, and to whom harry meant to have recourse in finding the portentous will, the absence of which was the cause that he, reginald kavanagh, was tramping up and down a narrow path under the stars, with a chance of being shot or sprung upon every minute, instead of being snugly tucked up between the sheets, snoring to the nightingales. his mind was easier for having remembered the association with the name, but his curiosity was excited to know whether there was any connection between that and the same word used by the arab, and he took an early opportunity on the march next day to ask sergeant barton to get him the loan of the interpreter for a bit. for the interpreter was a person of consequence, in his own estimation at least, and not to be lightly appropriated by privates. but tact can do a great deal, and by approaching the question in a judicious manner, his services were secured, and he blandly expressed his readiness to put any questions to the ex-prisoner which kavanagh might desire, and to translate the answers. this was the result in one language. to give the arabic and then the english would involve mere repetition, so i am sure that you will excuse that. besides i could not do it. _question_. "do you know the sheikh burrachee?" _answer_. "yes, everybody knows the sheikh burrachee." _question_. "is he not a foreigner to the soudan?" _answer_. "it is said so. he is rich, wise, learned, and he is a true believer. but his features are not those of the turk or of the arab." _question_. "do you know whether a man of his race, much younger, has joined him lately?" _answer_. "truly, yes, i have heard something of such an event. some say his son, others a man made by magic by the sheikh, who is a great magician, and can make ghosts come and go as he commands." _question_. "did you ever hear of any--(kavanagh was regularly bothered to know how to ask after a legal document like a will, and the interpreter could not help him; at last he hit on the word firman) of any firman the young man was seeking for?" _answer_. "no, i have never seen either of them; i speak from hearsay, and know nothing more than i have told you." there was nothing more to be got out of grady's captive. but still, to know that forsyth had reached his uncle was something. and the probability was that he was living, for if he had been dead the news would very likely have reached this gossiping arab. "i told you about the missing will in which i have an interest," kavanagh said to sergeant barton, when all that could had been got out of the arab. "yes; and daireh the egyptian led your friend, who undertook to trace it, a pretty dance out here, and all over the soudan." "yes; well i expect that he has traced him, for it seems he is living with this sheikh burrachee, as he calls himself, who is as mad as a hatter, and he would not do that without a very strong reason." "then the man who may be the irish sheikh's son, or may be merely a magical illusion, and vanish or turn into a cat some fine morning, is your friend, i suppose?" said barton. "sure to be," replied kavanagh; "though whether he has found daireh yet is another question, and if, having found him, he has also got the will is still more problematical." "it would be hard lines if, after all that risk and trouble and running his man to earth, he should find the will destroyed or lost after all," said barton. "i cannot believe in such ill-luck!" "no more should i three months ago," said kavanagh; "but after getting to khartoum just three days too late i am prepared for anything. what is the journey undertaken by forsyth compared to the expedition fitted out, the persevering struggle against the forces of nature, and the opposition of hosts of desperate foes for the purpose of rescuing gordon? and that all that should fail seemed too bad to be possible. yet so it was. i shall always be prepared for the worst for the rest of my life." chapter twenty two. sword versus bayonet. after the skirmish which was fatal to poor binks, and in which grady effected his clever capture, the convoy had not been annoyed, save now and then by a distant shot which fell short; but in the afternoon of the day that kavanagh got his information about harry forsyth, such as it was, out of the man grady had taken prisoner, bullets fell closer again. they had entered a wide valley, and there was water on the south side of it, near the black rocks. no zereba was formed here, possibly because troops could not be spared to guard it, or the spot was considered too near the next wells, or there was good reason to know that there was no force of the enemy of any consequence in the neighbourhood. whether it was the cause or not, this latter fact was probably the case, but there were individual sharp-shooters about who were inclined to make themselves a nuisance. perched high up among fantastic blocks of stone, which would have tempted an artist to draw out his sketch-book, they got excellent shots at the party below them, and as there was no chance of a return, they being entirely concealed, and their presence merely indicated by the little puffs of white smoke which spurted out here and there, there was nothing to disturb their aim. for nothing spoils a rifleman's shooting like being exposed to accurate fire himself; which was probably the reason why duellists, who could perform wonders in the shooting gallery, used so often to miss each other at twelve paces in the days of single combat, when george the fourth was regent. the range, however, was a long one, and the fire _plunging_, or perpendicular. now horizontal fire has this characteristic, that if a bullet misses one object it goes straight on and may strike another; or it may pass through a fleshy substance which does not offer too great resistance, and strike another beyond. but a plunging fire, if it misses the object aimed at, goes into the ground and is harmless. and so it happened that no mischief was done for some time, though several bullets came thudding down in the midst of men and camels. at length, with the fatality which seemed throughout this campaign to attend upon non-combatants, a shot struck a poor egyptian camel driver on the neck, passing through his spine, and shortly afterwards a surgeon was wounded in the foot. there did not seem to be more than two or three riflemen firing at them, but they were far above the average in marksmanship, and more dangerous, at a distance, than a score of ordinary soldiers of the mahdi. six men, of whom kavanagh was one, were told off to dislodge them; not more, because they would certainly retire before a strong body, and return, when they withdrew from the pursuit, to their former positions and practice. indeed, the officer who went with the six thought that number too numerous to show, and advanced in front with a file only, while the others had orders to creep up on the flanks, concealing themselves entirely, if possible. those in front got fired at several times as they scaled the rocks, but to hit a small object shifting behind cover was far beyond the arabs' skill yet, though they _had_ made a vast improvement, and the risk of advancing upon them in this way was not great. and when the two men had got within a couple of hundred yards of the nearest arab's lurking- place, the officer called to them to halt, keep under cover, and fire if they got a chance, or even if they didn't, his object being to keep them amused while the flankers gained higher ground, and obtained fair shots at them. but one of those in front was macintosh, for whom the wilful waste of a bullet was almost an impossibility, frugality and marksmanship combining to render the task painful to his feelings. he prided himself on his shooting, and did not like even to appear to make a miss. not able to catch a glimpse of a foe where he was, he crept thirty yards higher, to a nice flat stone just breast high, which commanded a much wider view. but still he could see nothing to shoot at; so he exposed himself, standing fairly up. _pat_! came a ball against a rock five yards on his right; it would not do for wimbledon that. "eh! they must practise a wee bit afore they challenge the scottish team!" murmured macintosh, as he dropped on one knee behind the stone over which he held his martini-henry at the ready, his eye being fixed on the spot the shot came from. the arab probably thought that he had dropped his man, for he raised his head and shoulders above the cover to look. that was the opportunity macintosh was waiting for. he had him covered in a moment, his rifle was as steady and motionless as if it grew out of the rock itself. his finger pressed the trigger, and the arab he aimed at fell forwards, his arms hanging over the rocky parapet, the remington falling from his hands. when they examined his body afterwards, it was found that the bullet had struck him in the exact centre of the forehead. "i am sorry for the puir mon, but it was an unco' good shot!" was the complacent remark of macintosh, as he contemplated his handiwork. but that was later on. at the time he fired he remained still, as ordered, looking out for another chance. the other man had taken what he was told more literally, and fired once or twice at spots from which flashes had issued, without a hope of hitting anything but stones, and uncertain, indeed, whether the arab who had last fired was still there or had shifted his quarters. and shots were fired back, principally at the officer, who showed his head as he peered about, trying to see how his men were getting on. meantime, the files on the flanks were climbing cunningly, kavanagh being one of the two men on the right, until they got rather above the level of the arabs in ambush, and a man on the left got the first shot. the arab was lying down, peering to his front, and afforded a steady aim, not fifty yards off. it was almost impossible to miss him, unless the marksman were flurried, and the soldier was as cool as if on parade, and hit him in the back, between the shoulder-blades: that made two. the last report showing they were enfiladed, three other arabs bolted from their hiding-places, and made for the higher ground. bang! bang! bang! went the rifles from below and each side: there they were still, active as monkeys, darting between and over the fantastic boulders; bang! bang! as they re-appeared, without effect. then five rifles exploding together, like a volley, as a retreating arab paused, and turned to fire a shot back; and this time the bullets found a billet, for he sank down in a heap. the other two got away, in spite of the leaden invitations to stop sent after them. directly the first flanking shot was heard, the officer in front cried "forward!" to the two men with him, macintosh and the other, and all three pushed up amongst the rocks. as they worked up higher, the surface of the mountain side became so rugged that they could not keep sight of each other, and hunt about in a satisfactory manner at the same time. while firing was going on, indeed, they had a guide as to the direction of their friends, but when that ceased, they were somewhat more scattered and isolated than prudence dictated. but prudence is apt to be forgotten in the excitement of a hunt, and a manhunt is the most thrilling of all chases. they searched about, with bayonets fixed, and fingers on trigger-guards, expecting an antagonist behind each new rock. kavanagh, making for a point where he last saw the end of a bernouse vanishing, wandered further than the others, perhaps, and came suddenly on a hole in the side of the rock. not a natural fissure, but evidently a man-made doorway; oval, with carved pillars at the sides, and an inscription over the door. kavanagh's first impulse was to go in, his second one not to. why, there might be an army inside! but by the time the risk occurred to him he was through the portals, and he was afraid of turning, not knowing what was behind him. so he took a pace to his rear, still looking into the interior, and holding his rifle at the ready. it was by no means dark inside, though coming out of the intense glare it seemed so at the first moment. but light came in from openings high up, showing a chamber which would _not_ contain an army, but was of handsome dimensions for all that, and empty. empty to all appearance, so far as human beings were concerned that is, but inhabited by stone heroes of the past. there they sat, solemn and gigantic, heedless of the lapse of ages, staring into the future with blind eyes. the walls and the bases of the statues were covered with hieroglyphics, which would no doubt have told all about them to officials of the british museum not present. what a long time it must have taken to write a letter when you had to draw a dog to express a dog, a man when you meant a man, and so forth. it would be rather amusing reading, though, so far as some of my friends, who are not good artists, are concerned. and yours? if a fellow could draw a little bit, however, one might spend nine or ten hours after breakfast very pleasantly in deciphering his correspondence; though it must have been annoying, if one wanted some such matter as a pyramid in a hurry, to have to draw a stag and a knight for "dear sir," an eye for "i," and so forth throughout the piece. and when ingenious innovators took prominent curves and angles of these drawings to express the things, and so invented hieroglyphics, no doubt busy men with a large correspondence found advantage in it! kavanagh had little time for these reflections, for he had hardly made a rapid inspection of this curious old temple, burying-place, or whatever it was, before he heard a shot in the distance outside, and running to the entrance he saw an arab, who had doubtless been unearthed on another side and bolted here, pausing a hundred yards off to have a return shot at the man probably who had fired at him, and the report of whose rifle had disturbed kavanagh's day-dream. of course he did not know that an enemy was up there, or he would not have stopped for his shot. as he was getting his sight to bear on some one below, kavanagh was doing the same for him, and just as he was going to pull he got a violent shock on the hip, which disconcerted his aim; and perhaps that was lucky for macintosh, whom he had got nicely at the end of his fore- sight kavanagh had hardly fired, however, and had not time to open the breach and put another cartridge into his rifle, before he heard a noise in the cavern-temple behind him, and, turning sharply, saw a figure with a sword in the right-hand and a shield on the left arm, literally bounding towards him. the arab must have been concealed behind one of the figures, or in a recess which had escaped the explorer's notice, and, not possessing fire-arms himself, had not chosen to attack while his enemy's rifle was certain to be loaded; but directly he heard him fire he seized his opportunity with the promptitude of a really good soldier, and went for him before he could re-load. kavanagh brought his weapon down to the charge and waited for him, and now a really interesting set-to began, and it was a pity there was no one to witness it. the arab, a fanatic fakir, approached with his shield well advanced, and his sword, which a man might have shaved with, in his strong right-hand, watching for an opening. he made a cut; kavanagh turned it with his bayonet and re-posted. the thrust was parried by the shield, but the force of it made the arab stagger back. kavanagh followed, feinted low, and when the shield went down delivered the point over the top of it, just touching his opponent's chest, who saved his life by jumping back with a slight wound. kavanagh followed further into the cavern. each now knew that the other was not to be trifled with, and they circled round, eyes glaring into eyes, trying to draw on an attack, the statues around looking straight before them, heedless witnesses of the conflict. kavanagh feinted again, but the arab was not to be caught by the same trick a second time, and instead of warding the thrust seized that moment to make a dash and a cut, and his sword bit deeply into the other's side, cutting through bandolier and kharkee into the flesh. kavanagh, wounded, but not disabled, at the same moment dashed his rifle, held across, into his opponent's face, and as he staggered back darted his bayonet at him over the shield, piercing his shoulder. yet he could still swing his right arm, still wield his razor-edged weapon. and still they faced each other, bleeding freely. kavanagh had this in his mind fixedly, that if he thrust the point of his bayonet through the shield, and so got it entangled, he was done, for his active opponent would step within distance, and cut him down in a moment. as if to force him to risk this, the arab suddenly crouched down, and covering himself well with his shield, made a spring at him, cutting at his left arm. kavanagh jumped back and saved his wrist, but it was so near a thing that the edge of the sword touched his hand, severing the little finger, which fell on the ground, and making a deep cut in the rifle stock. unaware of the mutilation, kavanagh re-posted, darting out his weapon over the shield with his right-hand, and piercing his enemy through the neck. but even for such a wound as that the brave soudanese would not be denied, but forced his way to close quarters, and cut his enemy over the side of the head; a blow which would have been instantly fatal had it been delivered with his accustomed force, but the wound through the shoulder took the strength out of it, and loss of blood and the shock of the throat wound helped to weaken him; indeed, his sword dropped from his hand with the effort. kavanagh, almost blind with the blood which deluged his face, shortened arms and sought to transfix his assailant, who, however, managed to seize the muzzle of the rifle and close, and a species of rough-and-tumble conflict ensued for about half a minute, each striving to throw the other, and both as weak as babies. kavanagh, however, had most strength left, for though both were losing much blood, that which ebbed from the arab drained more important veins, and the wound in his throat especially was terrible. his grasp relaxed, his eyes lost the light of fanaticism and the joy of combat, and grew filmy and expressionless, and he fell heavily at the foot of a gigantic, blubber-lipped statue. kavanagh caught up his rifle and turned the bayonet downwards, but there was no fight left in his foe, and in spite of the customs of this barbarous war he could not thrust. so he left the arab lying there, and staggered to the portal, where he was forced to lean against a pillar, so giddy and faint was he. he had enough strength and wits left, however, to slip a cartridge into his rifle and fire it off, as a guide to his friends where to find him; and it was as well he did so, as they were searching for him close by, and might not have hit upon the entrance to the cave-temple for some time, so curiously was it masked by the rocks. the report, however, directed them right, and just as kavanagh was slipping from the pillar to the ground, he heard a voice say-- "here he is, sir!" and saw comrades close, though their voices sounded somehow a long way off. "my eye, you have had a good bout, mate;" one said to him, "but where is the other fellow?" "in there," replied kavanagh, faintly; "don't kill him, he's a good 'un." "dinna kill him, indeed!" said macintosh, presently, as he bent over the body of the arab and took his scarf for bandages. "there's nae much need for any one to do that!" kavanagh's wounds were rudely bound up, just to check the bleeding for the present, and the officer having some spirits in a flask gave him a drain, and asked him if he thought he could walk down to camp. being somewhat revived, he said he could, and set out, supported by a couple of men, one on each side. it was a slow progress, but the distance was not great, and he managed to get down all right, and then a surgeon dressed his wounds for him. "the bandolier and a tobacco-pipe in the pocket of your kharkee jacket have done you a good turn, my lad," he said; "for the body cut has gone right through them, and might have been fatal but for that resistance. it is pretty deep as it is, but you will be all right; and your other hurts are not serious, only sword cuts. but your little finger will not grow again, you know." the wounds might not be serious in a surgeon's estimation, but they were very painful, and to feel so weak and helpless was depressing to the spirits. the attack, however, had been successful, and the handful of sharp-shooters killed or effectually dispersed, for no more shots were fired at the convoy either that evening, during the night, or on the following morning, when it got under weigh again. so he had the pleasure of reflecting that his discomforts were not altogether incurred in vain. the most provoking thing he found was to be told that he was so very lucky only to be slashed all over with sword cuts, and not to have any bullet wounds. what he had got ached and smarted and throbbed to an extent calculated to try the patience of job, and what was the use of endeavouring to persuade him that he was one of the favourites of fortune? he succeeded to the seat on a camel vacated by the ill-fated binks, and every jolt hurt his side; the head and hand wounds were not much affected by the motion, but every violent jerk caused the other to gape and bleed, and the dressing had to be renewed at every halt where water was obtainable. but the comrade who rode alongside and congratulated him on not having any gun-shot wounds meant well, and he restrained his impatience. only when grady, whom he credited with more sense, went on the same tack, he said, "thank you, paddy; did you ever see a codfish crimped?" "no, sure, but i have seen a salmon." "alive?" "in course; it's no use doing it after he's dead." "and did you congratulate him?" "indeed, i did not, and it was a cruel thing i thought it," said grady. "ah, and sure i see what you are after! and it is like a crimped fish ye are with the deep slashes, and only those would think light of them who have not got them. but you will soon be all right again after the clane cuts, while a poke or a bullet-hole is a long time haling if it does not kill ye entirely. that is what the boys mane." it was after a couple of days that kavanagh was able to hold this conversation. before that he was incapacitated for talking not only by weakness, but also because the cut on the side of his head had reached his cheek, and slicing through it nicked the tongue. taking food and drink was therefore quite painful enough just at first without talking. but it was surprising how quickly this part began to heal. he could not smoke yet, however, and that resource for whiling away some of the long hours failed him. "it was a regular duel ye had with the haythen in his temple, and ye won it fair and square, anyhow, without shooting," said grady. "the other was as dead as julius sayser when the boys saw him, for i was not to the fore myself, having had my little tour the day before." "i remember," said kavanagh. "and how is your prisoner getting on? he has not slipped away yet, has he?" "sorra a bit of it, he seems quite plazed to be living with dacent people for a change. he tould the interpreter that it was a mighty great friend of the mahdi's ye killed; a man some people reckoned very holy--a _faker_ he called him. at least, a man like that lived up by that cavern ye discovered." "i don't know who he was," said kavanagh, "but i wish he had recovered. he was a game one that, to fight as he did after he got his death- wound." sergeant barton, who came up just then, heard this last remark, and said, smiling-- "that is true enough, but his opponent must have a good bit of pluck, too, it seems to me." "not so much as you think," replied kavanagh, meditatively. "i do not say it out of mock modesty, but it is a simple fact that fear of that sharp edge made me strain all my faculties to keep it at a distance. but i was horribly afraid of it all the same." "well, i suppose that the other was afraid of your bayonet point, if you come to that." "i don't believe it; he did not mind it more than a pin, if he could only kill me at the same time." here an officer came up and asked kavanagh how he was; adding, "i have good news for you. we shall reach korti to-day, and then you will be more comfortable." chapter twenty three. in the ranks of the enemy. harry forsyth had put off the evil day as long as he could, but at length he found himself forced to turn an apparent traitor to his queen and country, or else to give up the object of his journey when his trials, dangers, and sufferings had been crowned with success, and probably to lose his life into the bargain. the detachment in which the sheikh burrachee held a command came to a precipitous rocky mountain overlooking the nile, and here they were to stop the english advance. no position could have been more judiciously chosen: the rocks looked down on a narrow gorge of the river still more straightened by an island named dulka, which it was determined to garrison strongly with riflemen, and there was debate as to who should undertake this duty. harry hoped that it would be the tribe with which his uncle had become associated, and of which he himself was now supposed to be a member, because he thought it would be hardly difficult to slip away down the stream somehow, by swimming if no other means were to be had, and so join the english before they attacked, and avoid even the appearance of being a partaker of his uncle's crimes. but this chance was denied to him, and others went to the island, while the sheikh burrachee and his men were posted in the steepest part, the very citadel of this natural fortress. to escape from there before the assault was obviously impossible. up to that time harry had taken it for granted in his own mind that his countrymen would carry any position they chose, with more or less loss, and pass on, but he now began to fear that this one was really impregnable. parts of it were difficult to climb if unopposed, but with an enemy with a rifle in his hand behind every crag and boulder, it looked simply impossible for any living thing to make the ascent. now for the first time harry forsyth became an active hypocrite, for he had only been a passive one up to this. he busied himself about to select a good commanding spot in which to ensconce himself with his rifle with an energy which delighted his uncle extremely. and so much was thought of his shooting that he was sure not to be interfered with. "not a man of them can ever pass the rackabit el gamel by water, and they can as soon take these rocks as scale the heavens. here the freedom of the soudan will be worked out; the authority of the mahdi established!" exclaimed the sheikh. rackabit el gamel, or the camel's neck, is the name of the gorge by dulka island. when the sun rose on the tenth of february, eighteen hundred and eighty- five, harry forsyth, from his lofty position on the heights of kirbekan, strained his eyes in the direction from which the british force was expected to come. nothing yet; yes, those red ants, as they seem in the far distance, what are they? and there were larger black ants in rear of them. and now in the clearer light grey ants aligned with the red. the red ants, had he known it, were the black watch, going into action in their red coats and kilts; the grey were the men of the south staffordshire regiment; the large black ants in rear were the guns. he did not know these details, but he recognised english troops, not seen now for a long time by him, and his heart beat high with excitement and hope. now was his chance of escape. unless he were killed during the assault, or taken prisoner and shot before he had time to explain himself, he would surely be able to get away in the confusion of fight. even if the english were repulsed, he could feign pursuit and so come up with them. suddenly he saw both red and grey masses scatter out from their centres, as they broke into extended order, and at the same time what he could now distinguish as cavalry swept round to the right. it was a beautiful sight. while he was gazing at it his uncle passed him in a state of great enthusiasm. he waved a rifle with his right-hand, and a banner, with texts from the koran inscribed upon it, with his left, and cried, "they come! they come! the lord hath delivered them into our hands at last!" and it was with difficulty that he could restrain himself from forfeiting the advantages of the strong position, and rushing down to meet the advancing troops at once. he had not long to restrain his impatience; the red and the grey lines swept into the base, and were among the boulders in a trice. then the whole mountain side seemed to burst forth into flame and smoke, and from his commanding position harry could see that here and there an advancing figure stopped, and came on no more, but dotted the ground with a scarlet or brown patch. the scene would have resembled a holiday sham fight but for those figures which lay motionless, taking no further part, so orderly and regular was the advance. presently the combat entered on a new phase. unchecked by the storm of fire which had broken out upon them, the highlanders and south staffordshire pressed steadily on amongst the rocks; when there was room they squeezed between them; when this could not be done they swarmed over them; still they pressed steadily on. steadily, indeed, but slowly. behind each rock there was an arab, and when a soldier wriggled round it or swarmed over it, he found himself engaged in a hand-to-hand conflict, in which, however, the bayonet generally proved victorious over sword or spear. it was most magnificent fighting; each individual man had to force his independent way in the face of a deadly fire from hidden foes, at whose covers he went straight. if he were hit there was an end of his course; but, if he stood up, into the hiding-place where his foe lay concealed, he was bound to go; and then, if he killed his man, as he mostly did, forwards and upwards at another. there was no sense of support afforded by the touch of comrades, and the being an item of a serried mass, as in the case of the majority of the battles of the soudan, fought in square formation. then there might be unsteady or pusillanimous soldiers, whose faults were hidden by their firmer comrades, from whose presence and example they gained confidence; but at kirbekan every soldier fought on his own account, as it were, and failure in courage or dash in any individual would have been at once perceptible. but there was no such failure, and the black watch and south staffordshire fought as british soldiers fought in the peninsula, at waterloo, at alma, and at inkerman. higher and higher they came, and the arabs began to grow uncontrollably excited. the sheikh burrachee came to the post occupied by harry, who immediately let loose his rifle at a fine rock near which there was nobody. but he might have spared himself the trouble; his uncle never noticed him; he only came there because the spot afforded the best view of a portion of the english advance. "it is impossible!" he cried; "and yet there they are. has sheytan given them charmed lives?" and he charged down, waving his banner, and calling on his tribesmen to follow him and extirpate the infidels. harry saw him falter on the brow of a crag, stretch his arms wide, drop weapon and banner, and fall backwards. forgetting everything else at the sight, he ran down to him and raised his head. he was quite dead. "poor uncle ralph! you were kind to me, and you loved my dear mother. would that you had met with a better fate!" he said, as he turned away, and looked about for the means of escape. there was no reason for further delay; the arabs had too much to do to look after themselves to notice him; and his uncle was dead! round the side of the rock he crept, keeping well under shelter, till he found a side where no fight was raging, and here he clambered cautiously down into the plain, and made for that part of the nile where he had seen the english pontoons and boats. after about an hour's cautious approach, he came near enough to hail the nearest sentry. "i am an english prisoner, released by your attack!" he cried; and after his report of himself had been carefully heard by an officer, he was received with welcome and eagerly questioned as to what he knew about the progress of the fight. "most of the points had been carried when i made my escape," harry said; "but i fear the loss has been very heavy." heavy indeed it proved when the full news came in! colonel eyre, commanding the south staffordshire, fell at the head of his regiment at the first onset; colonel green was killed at the hottest moment of the struggle; and shortly afterwards general earle, the commander of the expedition himself, was shot dead from a stubbornly-defended building. harry told his story, was examined, cross-examined, re-examined; for all he had to say was most interesting, and very different from the meagre and often contradictory reports to be gleaned from natives. he told them of the force in dulka island. but they knew of that, and heeded it not, finding no difficulty in shelling the arabs there out of it without an attack. the only thing he was reticent about was the story of his uncle. poor, crack-brained visionary, he had gone to his account now, and what need was there to recount his treasonable vagaries? an old harton boy is almost sure to find some mutual acquaintance in any group of english officers he may fall in with in any part of the world, and when at the evening meal he was chatting with his hospitable entertainers, strachan's name happened to be mentioned. "what, tom strachan, of the blankshire?" he cried. "that's the man!" "is his regiment in the soudan?" "no, but _he_ is. he is an active card, and volunteered to act on the staff, and has done a good bit of galloping business. i think he is working in the transport now, at least he was when we heard last from korti." from this and all else he could gather korti was the place harry now had to try and make for, and he was soon once more on his travels down the river. we will not follow his footsteps, since he met with no adventures to be compared at all with those he had gone through. and very glad he was of it, for the one thing he now dreaded most was delay. he had not long been at korti before he saw the very old friend he had been asking after, and soon got an opportunity of speaking to him, busy as he seemed to be. "don't you know me?" he asked. "know you! of course i do, just as if you were my brother; but just now i forget whether it is tinned meats or bullocks. by jove! is it possible! harry forsyth! and how are you, old fellow? one would think korti was the centre of the world, for every fellow comes here. i say, who was to know you dressed up like that? well, and what are you up to? have you found that will yet?" "yes." "nonsense! and _got_ it?" "yes." "you must tell me all about that. i was just going to get something to eat; come along and share it. you have fallen upon the right boy for grub, i can tell you; i am in the provisioning department just for the moment, and there is no order against looking after number one." "and you found your uncle who had turned wild man?" observed tom strachan, as the two filled and lit their pipes after a capital repast. "yes, poor fellow!" answered harry. "without him i don't suppose i should have got the will." "and where did you run your egyptian clerk to earth?" "at el obeid, and we got it out of him with the kourbash." "of course; you know the cynical saying here. as nature provides an antidote growing in the same district with every poison, all we have to do is to learn how to seek it. so when the egyptian was placed on the nile the hippopotamus was created to provide whips to rule him with. but you must tell your story at greater length to-morrow morning to a friend of mine who is lying wounded here, waiting for a chance to be transported to cairo. for i have a lot of things to see to; reports to make out--you would never believe; and must run away presently." next morning harry forsyth called on strachan at the time and place appointed, and was taken by him to the hospital which had been established near the banks of the river. they found the friend of strachan's they proposed to visit lying on a bamboo couch under an awning, over which again spread a palm-tree. there was a pleasant view of the river and the country, and altogether it was as cheery a spot as could have been selected. there was a visitor already with the invalid: a soldier who was standing near, his head leaning on his rifle. "i tell ye what it is," he was saying; "i'll say nothing about flesh wounds and bullet wounds since it worries ye, but ye have the best luck of it to be wounded at all, in my thinking. won't ye be getting out of this baste of a country at once, and shan't we poor beggars what's whole and sound have to stop here and stew, and be ate up with the flies entirely? i tell ye so long as ye aint crippled it's the best chance to be a bit hurt, and get away, now there's no more fighting to be done. and they say there will perhaps be some real fun going on in india, out afghanistan way, against the rooshians; and we will be left here with the flies and crocodiles. but here's the officer coming. i'll come and see you again, when i'm off duty." and grady stepped briskly away, making the sling of his rifle _tell_ with a smart salute, as he passed strachan. and then harry forsyth stepped up to the couch, and found himself looking on the drawn and pain-worn features of reginald kavanagh. "i flatter myself that i have managed that with considerable dramatic talent," said tom strachan, as he stood looking at the two, holding each other's hands in silence, and looking into each other's eyes. "yes," said harry forsyth, answering the question in the other's look; "i have found it, and it is here in my breast, all perfectly right." "yes, he has found it," echoed strachan. "where there's a will there's a way, and the way in this instance was the kourbash. i hope the fellow got it hot, harry." "pretty fairly; i think kavanagh would have been satisfied, though he has been disappointed in his desire to wield the lash himself. don't you remember?" "well, all you have got to do now," said strachan to kavanagh, "is to get back to england as quick as they will take you, purchase your discharge, and enjoy your _otium cum dignitate_." "thank you, sir; if you will kindly say a word for me it will help," replied kavanagh. the little word _sir_ struck with strange harshness on harry forsyth's ears. but, of course, kavanagh was but a full private, and strachan was an officer, if he came to think and realise it. he had been about to say: "here we three chums have met at last, ever so many miles up the nile, and i shall believe in presentiments as long as i live;" but he did not like, after that word _sir_, to class his two old friends in the same category; it might make an awkwardness, he felt. "i do not like the idea of quitting the service altogether," said kavanagh. "if we have this war with russia they talk about, and i get well in time, and can qualify, i wonder if i shall have a chance of getting a commission. surely it will not be so difficult as it was when i tried before, and i nearly qualified. i wonder whether my service in the ranks would be allowed to count in any way." "it very well might," said strachan; "for there are all sorts of chances going when good men are really wanted. if not, you must go back into the old militia battalion of the blankshire, as i mean to do when i am shelved; and then we shall get a chance of airing our medals, if they give us any, for one month in the year at any rate." "and what are your wounds, kavanagh?" asked harry presently. "sword cuts; one in the body is troublesome, but is getting better since i got away from camel back, though sometimes i feel down-hearted, progress is so slow." "oh, you must not give way to that sort of feeling," said forsyth. "why, i lay senseless for months and months from a cut on the head; how long i have no idea yet; i shall have to puzzle it out some day, but at present it is logarithms over again to think of it. i should certainly have died if it had not been for my dear old black nurse, fatima, the loss of whom is the only thing i shall regret in leaving this part of the world. and if ever i come back, it will be to hunt her out and buy her." "fatima! come, now for a touch of romance, harry!" cried strachan, laughing. "black as your sunday hat in london; blubber lips, hair like coarse wool; feet like canoes, and the best heart in the world, and--there she is!" it was true enough; fatima was searching about, looking for harry forsyth, just like a dear, faithful old dog. ever since the episode of the letter she had thought he wanted to go to his own people, and sought how to aid him; after the fight at kirbekan she lost him, and made her way down to korti, as the best place, so far as she could learn, to gain tidings of any englishman. the delight she expressed on thus unexpectedly seeing him again was touching to a degree. "you will have some one else to nurse now, fatima," said harry in arabic, pointing to kavanagh. "your brother is my master; i will cure him!" she said, nodding cheerfully to kavanagh, and showing her white teeth. "i am afraid fatima would want to be nurse and doctor all in one, as she was with me," said harry, "and that would hardly agree with discipline. but you might do worse than that, i can tell you. meantime, what am i to do with her, i wonder? part from her willingly i never will. i tell you, kavanagh, you would never have had a chance of your money, if i had not fallen into her hands, after i fell for dead in the wilderness; for i should never have pulled through but for her. how astonished my dear old mother and sister will be when i bring them a black servant! but she will soon learn their ways." "you are my good genius, forsyth," said kavanagh; "and if you will call on the principal medical officer, and other great authorities, i have no doubt you will be able to help me to get away the quicker." "i should like to go home with you," said forsyth, "and will if i can. let us once get to cairo, and i can raise any necessary money on the strength of this," and he tapped the will on his chest. "would it be too great a presumption to ask to see this portentous document?" asked strachan. "i own to feeling some curiosity about it." "not at all." and he unwound it from its wrappings and produced it. "and because a rascal clerk ran away with that bit of parchment, kavanagh had to enlist as a private, and you had to go wandering over the world for years, leaving your mother and sister in poverty and anxiety!" said tom strachan, meditatively. "people are always talking about red tape in the army; surely there is still more of it in the law." "oh, yes, naturally one would expect that." "ah, well, i hope he got it hot; i _do_ hope he got it hot! i will introduce you to all the people who can help you, harry, but i must be off just now." forsyth got every assistance from the authorities to take his wounded friend away. and his old connection with mr williams and the english firm at cairo stood him in good stead; so that he reached cairo, and embarked for england with fatima and her patient sooner than he had expected. chapter twenty four. at sheen. the severity of the may of had at last abated, and the arrows on the vanes proved that they had not got fixed by rust, as many suspected, in a north-easterly direction, by turning to the south and west, so that those inhabitants of great britain who had not succumbed to pneumonia were able to let their fires out, open their windows, and enjoy out-of- door games with impunity. mrs forsyth and beatrice now reaped the benefit of their work in the garden, for the tulips, the various _arias_ and _otises_ made the borders resplendent, while the delicious scent of the wallflowers was almost oppressive. the may blossom was full out on the hedge which bounded the little domain, and the apple-trees in that part devoted to fruit and vegetables were one mass of pink and white. though still at sheen, the forsyths were not in their original cottage. when their fortunes changed for the better, mrs forsyth had moved into a larger villa, with a verandah round it, and modest stabling, and a nice lawn. and on this lawn white chalk lines were drawn, and a net fixed, on one side of which beatrice forsyth, racquet in hand, was employed in affording exercise for her brother harry, who was on the other. he took the large court to her small court, and as she had a special talent for placing the balls, she made him run about rarely. the original layer out of that garden, who flourished before lawn-tennis was invented, had perpetrated a prophetic pun by planting a service tree on one side of the ground, and under this sat mrs forsyth before a garden table which had wools and work-box on it, for she could not bear to sit idle. not far from her, and still under the shade of the service tree, was a lounging chair or couch of cane and wicker-work of the most comfortable description, with arms so broad and flat that you could lodge books and papers upon them, and the right arm had a circular hollow to hold a tumbler. in this chair reclined a good-looking young man, whose pale and delicate features and thin hands told of recent illness, and together with a crimson scar across his face gave him that appearance which ladies call interesting, the effect being heightened by the shawls and rugs which were strewn about him. rice paper and a packet of egyptian tobacco lay on one of the arms of his couch, but it was only between the games that he occasionally twiddled up a cigarette, so conscientiously did he attend to his duties as umpire. "vantage out," said harry, who was serving. beatrice returned the ball high, and very far back-indeed, and immediately cried-- "i think it was just in!" "i think _not_," said harry, grinning. "how was it, umpire?" "line ball!" said kavanagh, who from his position could not possibly have seen. "game and set!" cried trix, delighted, though as a matter of fact the ball had fallen a foot beyond the base line, and they both came to the tree for a rest. "i hope you will be able to play yourself soon," said harry forsyth. "i could play now," replied kavanagh; "my side does not hurt me a bit whatever i do. it is only weakness that stops me, and i feel stronger every morning." "then we shall have a four set without recourse to neighbours when mary strachan arrives," said beatrice. "mary strachan! is she coming?" cried kavanagh. "yes; mamma asked her, and she is to arrive early next week." "that _will_ be jolly! we only want tom too." "i don't despair of seeing _him_ before the autumn," said harry. "i heard from him yesterday, and he thought he should come home when the guards did. and if we kiss and make it up with the various folks we are at loggerheads with, i don't think there will be much more fighting for you military parties to do." "who do you mean?" asked kavanagh. "i am not a military person. i have got my discharge, sir, and might pass the commander-in-chief himself without saluting. not that i would though, god bless him." "is it not time that you had your jelly and glass of port wine?" observed mrs forsyth. "not quite," said harry; "fatima would not let him miss it by a minute. i believe she sits watching the clock, now she has learned what the figures mean, and why the hands go round." "that is right; speak up for your slave," said beatrice. "any imputation upon her punctuality might depreciate her market value." "i would not sell her for her weight in gold, and that must be something towards settling the national debt," said harry. "she nursed me back into life, i know." "i can never repay her," murmured mrs forsyth. at that moment the object of conversation appeared with a tray in her hand, and a broad smile on her honest black face. she was robed in white, with a red shawl and a yellow handkerchief round her head. they had tried to put her into a print gown and a mob cap, but she looked so queer and was so uncomfortable that they let her choose her own costume. nursing was certainly her strong point, and she tended kavanagh as carefully as if he had been a baby. only she always thought it cold, and wanted to smother him with wraps. it was no use resisting, so he had to put them away quietly when her back was turned. "i shall have apoplexy if i am convalescent long," said kavanagh, swallowing the last spoonful of his jelly. "i am eating and drinking good things the whole day long." "but think of the privations you have to make up for," said mrs forsyth. "oh, mother, what a dear you are!" cried harry. "now i know why we have asparagus every day for dinner! _apropos_ of dinner, who do you think is coming to feed with us this evening, kavanagh?" "invalids are excused guessing," said kavanagh. "your old militia captain, royce. he has got his majority now, by-the- by, and he is set upon having you back into the regiment." royce was punctual; and i propose to you a novelty in story endings. let the curtain fall upon our friends as they are going in to dinner. the end. note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h.zip) with kitchener in the soudan: a story of atbara and omdurman by g. a. henty. contents preface. chapter : disinherited. chapter : the rising in alexandria. chapter : a terrible disaster. chapter : an appointment. chapter : southward. chapter : gregory volunteers. chapter : to metemmeh. chapter : among the dervishes. chapter : safely back. chapter : afloat. chapter : a prisoner. chapter : the battle of atbara. chapter : the final advance. chapter : omdurman. chapter : khartoum. chapter : a voice from the dead. chapter : a fugitive. chapter : a hakim. chapter : the last page. chapter : a momentous communication. chapter : gedareh. chapter : the crowning victory. chapter : an unexpected discovery. preface. the reconquest of the soudan will ever be mentioned as one of the most difficult, and at the same time the most successful, enterprises ever undertaken. the task of carrying an army hundreds of miles across a waterless desert; conveying it up a great river, bristling with obstacles; defeating an enormously superior force, unsurpassed in the world for courage; and, finally, killing the leader of the enemy and crushing out the last spark of opposition; was a stupendous one. after the death of gordon, and the retirement of the british troops, there was no force in existence that could have barred the advance of the fanatical hordes of the mahdi, had they poured down into egypt. the native egyptian army was, as yet, in the earliest stage of organization; and could not be relied upon to stand firm against the wild rush of the dervishes. fortunately, time was given for that organization to be completed; and when, at last, the dervish forces marched north, they were repulsed. assouan was saved, and wady halfa became the egyptian outpost. gradually, preparations were made for taking the offensive. a railway was constructed along the banks of the nile, and a mixed force of british and egyptians drove the enemy beyond dongola; then, by splendidly organized labour, a railroad was made from wady halfa, across the desert, towards the elbow of the great bend from dongola to abu hamed. the latter place was captured, by an egyptian brigade moving up from the former place; and from that moment, the movement was carried on with irresistible energy. the railway was pushed forward to abu hamed; and then southward, past berber, up to the atbara river. an army of twenty thousand men, under one of the khalifa's sons, was attacked in a strong position and defeated with immense loss. fresh british troops were then brought up; and, escorted by gunboats and steamers carrying provisions, the army marched up the nile, crushed the khalifa's great host before omdurman, and recovered possession of khartoum. then, the moving spirit of this enterprise, the man whose marvellous power of organization had secured its success, was called to other work. fortunately, he had a worthy successor in colonel wingate; who, with a native force, encountered that which the khalifa had again gathered, near el obeid, the scene of the total destruction of the army under hicks pasha; routed it with ease, killing the khalifa and all his principal emirs. thus a land that had been turned into a desert, by the terrible tyranny of the mahdi and his successor, was wrested from barbarism and restored to civilization; and the stain upon british honour, caused by the desertion of gordon by the british ministry of the day, was wiped out. it was a marvellous campaign--marvellous in the perfection of its organization, marvellous in the completeness of its success. g. a. henty. chapter : disinherited. "wanted, an active and intelligent young man, for general work, in a commercial house having a branch at alexandria. it is desirable that he should be able to write a good hand; and, if necessary, to assist in office work. wages, pounds per week. personal application to be made at messieurs partridge and company, leadenhall street." this advertisement was read by a man of five or six and twenty, in a small room in the upper story of a house in lupus street, pimlico. he was not the only inmate of the room, for a young woman, apparently not more than eighteen, was sitting there sewing; her work interrupted, occasionally, by a short, hacking cough. her husband, for this was the relation in which he stood to her, put down the paper carelessly, and then got up. "i am going out, dear, on my usual search. you know, we have agreed that it is of no use my trying to live by my pen. i get an article accepted, occasionally, but it's not enough to provide more than bread and cheese. i must look for something else." "but you must succeed, presently, gregory." "yes, dear; but while the grass grows, the horse starves. at any rate, i will try for something else. if i get anything, it won't prevent my writing; and when my genius is recognized, i can drop the other thing, and take to literature regularly, again. "well, i won't be away longer than i can help. anyhow, i will be back to our midday banquet. i will bring a couple of rashers of bacon in with me. we have potatoes enough, i think." so saying, he kissed his wife tenderly, and went out. gregory hartley belonged to a good family. he was the second son of the honorable james hartley, brother of the marquis of langdale. he had been educated at harrow and cambridge; and, after leaving the university, had gone out to egypt with a friend of his father's, who was an enthusiast in the exploration of the antiquities of that country. gregory had originally intended to stay there a few months, at most, but he was infected by the enthusiasm of his companion, and remained in egypt for two years; when the professor was taken ill and died, and he returned home. a year later, he fell in love with the governess in a neighbouring family. his feeling was reciprocated, and they became engaged. his father was furious, when his son told him what had taken place. "it is monstrous," he said, "after the education that you have had, and the place that i, if i survive him; or, if not, your brother, will take at the death of your uncle; that you should dream of throwing yourself away, in this manner. i have looked to your making a good marriage; for, as you know, i am not what may be called a rich man. your brother's tastes are expensive; and what with his education, and yours, and the allowances i have made you both, it is as much as i have been able to do to keep up our position. and there are your sisters to be provided for. the idea of your falling in love with this young woman is monstrous." "young lady, father. she is a clergyman's daughter." "i won't hear of such a thing--i will not hear of it for a moment; and if you persist in this mad folly, i tell you, fairly, that from this moment i shall have nothing more to say to you! you have to choose between me, and this penniless beggar." "i am sorry you put it in that way, sir. my choice is made. i am engaged to this young lady, and shall certainly marry her. i trust that, when your present anger has subsided, you will recognize that my honour was involved in the matter; and that even if i wished it, i could not, without showing myself to be a downright cad, draw back." and so, gregory hartley married the girl of his choice. she had, for some time, refused to allow him to sacrifice himself; but when she found that he was as determined as his father, and absolutely refused to release her from the engagement, she had given way; and had, after a quiet marriage, accompanied him to london. there he had endeavoured to get literary work, but had found it much harder than he had expected. the market was overcrowded, and they had moved from comfortable lodgings into small rooms; and so, step by step, had come to the attic in lupus street. he was doing a little better now, and had hopes that, ere long, he would begin to make his way steadily up. but the anxiety had told on his wife. never very strong, she had developed a short, hard cough; and he had drawn upon his scanty reserves, to consult a specialist. "there is undoubtedly lung trouble," the latter said. "if you can manage it, i should say that she ought certainly to be taken to a warm climate. the damage is not extensive, as yet; and it is probable that, under favourable circumstances, she might shake it off; but i fear that, if she continues to live in london, her chances are not great." this, gregory felt, was almost equivalent to a death sentence; and he had begun to consult the advertisements in the papers, for some post abroad. he had, unknown to her, applied for several situations, but without success. when he first read the advertisement that morning, he had hardly thought of applying for the situation. his pride revolted at the idea of becoming a mere messenger; but his wife's cough had decided him. what did it matter, so that he could save her life? "i may not get it," he said to himself, as he went out; "but my knowledge of arabic, and the native dialect, is all in my favour. and at least, in a year or two, she may have thoroughly shaken off the cough, and that is everything. "at any rate, i have a better chance of getting this than i had of the other places that i applied for. there can hardly be a rush of applicants. when i am out there, i may hear of something better. "however, i will take another name. fortunately i have a second one, which will do very well. hilliard will do as well as hartley; and as i never write it in full as my signature, no one would recognize it as my name. there is nothing to be ashamed of, in accepting such a post. "as for the marquis, as he has never been friendly with us, it does not matter. he is, i have heard, a very tough sort of man; and my father is not likely to survive him. but i do not think it would be fair to geoffrey, when he comes into his peerage, that anyone should be able to say that he has a brother who is porter, in a mercantile house at alexandria. we have never got on very well together. the fact that he was heir to a title spoilt him. i think he would have been a very good fellow, if it hadn't been for that." on arriving at the office in leadenhall street, he was, on saying he wished to speak to mr. partridge, at once shown in. a good many of his personal belongings had been long since pledged; but he had retained one or two suits, so that he could make as good an appearance as possible, when he went out. the clerk had merely said, "a gentleman wishes to speak to you, sir," and the merchant looked up enquiringly at him, as he entered. "i have come to see you, sir, with reference to that advertisement, for a man at your establishment at alexandria." a look of surprise came over the merchant's face, and he said: "have you called on your own account?" "yes; i am anxious to go abroad, for the sake of my wife's health, and i am not particular as to what i do, so that i can take her to a warm climate. i may say that i have been two years in egypt, and speak arabic and koptic fluently. i am strong and active, and am ready to make myself useful, in any way." mr. partridge did not answer, for a minute. certainly this applicant was not at all the sort of man he had expected to apply for the place, in answer to his advertisement. that he was evidently a gentleman was far from an advantage, but the fact that he could speak the languages would add much to his value. "can you give me references?" he said, at last. "i cannot, sir. i should not like to apply to any of my friends, in such a matter. i must ask you to take me on trust. frankly, i have quarrelled with my family, and have to strike out for myself. were it not for my wife's health, i could earn my living; but i am told it is essential that she should go to a warm climate, and as i see no other way of accomplishing this, i have applied for this situation, hoping that my knowledge of the language, and my readiness to perform whatever duties i may be required to do, might induce you to give me a trial." "and you would, if necessary--say, in the case of illness of one of my clerks--be ready to help in the office?" "certainly, sir." "will you call again, in half an hour? i will give you an answer, then." by the time gregory returned, the merchant's mind was made up. he had come to the conclusion that the story he had heard was a true one. the way it had been told was convincing. the man was undoubtedly a gentleman. there was no mistake in his manner and talk. he had quarrelled with his family, probably over his marriage; and, as so many had done, found it difficult to keep his head above water. his wife had been ordered to a warm climate, and he was ready to do anything that would enable him to keep her there. it would assuredly be a great advantage to have one who could act, in an emergency, as a clerk; of course, his knowledge of language would greatly add to his utility. it certainly was not business to take a man without a reference, but the advantages more than counterbalanced the disadvantages. it was not likely that he would stay with him long; but at any rate, the fact that he was taking his wife with him would ensure his staying, until he saw something a great deal better elsewhere. when gregory returned, therefore, he said: "i have been thinking this matter over. what is your name?" "gregory hilliard, sir." "well, i have been thinking it over, and i have decided to engage you. i quite believe the story that you have told me, and your appearance fully carries it out. you may consider the matter settled. i am willing to pay for a second-class passage for your wife, as well as yourself; and will give such instructions, to my agents there, as will render your position as easy for you as possible. in the natural course of things, your duties would have included the sweeping out of the offices, and work of that description; but i will instruct him to engage a native to do this, under your supervision. you will be in charge of the warehouse, under the chief storekeeper; and, as you say, you will, in case of pressure of work in the office, take a desk there. "in consideration of your knowledge of the language, which will render you, at once, more useful than a green hand would be, i shall add ten shillings a week to the wages named in the advertisement, which will enable you to obtain comfortable lodgings." "i am heartily obliged to you, sir," gregory said, "and will do my best to show that your confidence in me has not been misplaced. when do you wish me to sail? i shall only require a few hours to make my preparations." "then in that case i will take a passage, for you and your wife, in the p. and o. that sails, next thursday, from southampton. i may say that it is our custom to allow fifteen pounds, for outfit. if you will call again in half an hour, i will hand you the ticket and a cheque for that amount; and you can call, the day before you go, for a letter to our agents there." gregory ascended the stairs to his lodging with a far more elastic step than usual. his wife saw at once, as he entered, that he had good news of some sort. "what is it, gregory?" "thank god, darling, that i have good news to give you, at last! i have obtained a situation, at about a hundred and thirty pounds a year, in alexandria." "alexandria?" she repeated, in surprise. "yes. it is the place of all others that i wanted to go to. you see, i understand the language. that is one thing; and what is of infinitely more consequence, it is a place that will suit your health; and you will, i hope, very soon get rid of that nasty cough. i did not tell you at the time, but the doctor i took you to said that this london air did not suit you, but that a warm climate would soon set you up again." "you are going out there for my sake, gregory! as if i hadn't brought trouble enough on you, already!" "i would bear a good deal more trouble for your sake, dear. you need not worry about that." "and what are you going to do?" she asked. "i am going to be a sort of useful man--extra clerk, assistant storekeeper, et cetera, et cetera. i like egypt very much. it will suit me to a t. at any rate, it will be a vast improvement upon this. "talking of that, i have forgotten the rashers. i will go and get them, at once. we sha'n't have to depend upon them as our main staple, in future; for fruit is dirt cheap, out there, and one does not want much meat. we shall be able to live like princes, on two pounds ten a week; and besides, this appointment may lead to something better, and we may consider that there is a future before us. "we are to sail on thursday. look! here are fifteen golden sovereigns. that is for my outfit, and we can begin with luxuries, at once. we shall not want much outfit: half a dozen suits of white drill for myself, and some gowns for you." "nonsense, gregory! i sha'n't want anything. you would not let me sell any of my dresses, and i have half a dozen light ones. i shall not want a penny spent on me." "very well; then i will begin to be extravagant, at once. in the first place, i will go down to that confectioner's, round the corner; and we will celebrate my appointment with a cold chicken, and a bottle of port. i shall be back in five minutes." "will it be very hot, gregory?" she asked, as they ate their meal. "not that i am afraid of heat, you know. i always like summer." "no. at any rate, not at present. we are going out at the best time of the year, and it will be a comfort, indeed, to change these november fogs for the sunshine of egypt. you will have four or five months to get strong again, before it begins to be hot. even in summer, there are cool breezes morning and evening; and of course, no one thinks of going out in the middle of the day. i feel as happy as a schoolboy, at the thought of getting out of this den and this miserable climate, and of basking in the sunshine. we have had a bad beginning, dear, but we have better days before us." "thank god, gregory! i have not cared about myself. but it has been a trial, when your manuscripts have come back, to see you sitting here slaving away; and to know that it is i who have brought you to this." "i brought myself to it, you obstinate girl! i have pleased myself, haven't i? if a man chooses a path for himself, he must not grumble because he finds it rather rougher than he expected. i have never, for a single moment, regretted what i have done; at any rate, as far as i, myself, am concerned." "nor i, for my own sake, dear. the life of a governess is not so cheerful as to cause one regret, at leaving it." and so, gregory hartley and his wife went out to alexandria, and established themselves in three bright rooms, in the upper part of a house that commanded a view of the port, and the sea beyond it. the outlay required for furniture was small, indeed: some matting for the floors, a few cushions for the divans which ran round the rooms, a bed, a few simple cooking utensils, and a small stock of crockery sufficed. mr. ferguson, the manager of the branch, had at first read the letter that gregory had brought him with some doubt in his mind, as to the wisdom of his principal, in sending out a man who was evidently a gentleman. this feeling, however, soon wore away; and he found him perfectly ready to undertake any work to which he was set. there was, indeed, nothing absolutely unpleasant about this. he was at the office early, and saw that the native swept and dusted the offices. the rest of the day he was either in the warehouse, or carried messages, and generally did such odd jobs as were required. a fortnight after his arrival, one of the clerks was kept away by a sharp attack of fever; and as work was pressing, the agent asked gregory to take his place. "i will do my best, sir, but i know nothing of mercantile accounts." "the work will be in no way difficult. mr. hardman will take mr. parrot's ledgers; and, as you will only have to copy the storekeeper's issues into the books, five minutes will show you the form in which they are entered." gregory gave such satisfaction that he was afterwards employed at office work, whenever there was any pressure. a year and a half passed comfortably. at the end of twelve months, his pay was raised another ten shillings a week. he had, before leaving england, signed a contract to remain with the firm for two years. he regretted having to do this, as it prevented his accepting any better position, should an opening occur; but he recognized that the condition was a fair one, after the firm paying for his outfit and for two passages. at the end of eighteen months, gregory began to look about for something better. "i don't mind my work a bit," he said to his wife, "but, if only for the sake of the boy" (a son had been born, a few months after their arrival), "i must try to raise myself in the scale, a bit. i have nothing to complain about at the office; far from it. from what the manager said to me the other day, if a vacancy occurred in the office, i should have the offer of the berth. of course, it would be a step; for i know, from the books, that hardman gets two hundred a year, which is forty more than i do." "i should like you to get something else, gregory. it troubles me, to think that half your time is spent packing up goods in the warehouse, and work of that sort; and even if we got less i would much rather, even if we had to stint ourselves, that your work was more suitable to your past; and such that you could associate again with gentlemen, on even terms." "that does not trouble me, dear, except that i wish you had some society among ladies. however, both for your sake and the boy's, and i own i should like it myself, i will certainly keep on the lookout for some better position. i have often regretted, now, that i did not go in for a commission in the army. i did want to, but my father would not hear of it. by this time, with luck, i might have got my company; and though the pay would not have been more than i get here, it would, with quarters and so on, have been as much, and we should be in a very different social position. "however, it is of no use talking about that now; and indeed, it is difficult to make plans at all. things are in such an unsettled condition, here, that there is no saying what will happen. "you see, arabi and the military party are practically masters here. tewfik has been obliged to make concession after concession to them, to dismiss ministers at their orders, and to submit to a series of humiliations. at any moment, arabi could dethrone him, as he has the whole army at his back, and certainly the larger portion of the population. the revolution could be completed without trouble or bloodshed; but you see, it is complicated by the fact that tewfik has the support of the english and french governments; and there can be little doubt that the populace regard the movement as a national one, and directed as much against foreign control and interference as against tewfik, against whom they have no ground of complaint, whatever. on the part of the army and its generals, the trouble has arisen solely on account of the favouritism shown to circassian officers. "but once a revolution has commenced, it is certain to widen out. the peasantry are, everywhere, fanatically hostile to foreigners. attacks have been made upon these in various country districts; and, should arabi be triumphant, the position of christians will become very precarious. matters are evidently seen in that light in england; for i heard today, at the office, that the british and french squadrons are expected here, in a day or two. "if there should be a row, our position here will be very unpleasant. but i should hardly think that arabi would venture to try his strength against that of the fleets, and i fancy that trouble will, in the first place, begin in cairo; both as being the capital of the country, and beyond the reach of armed interference by the powers. arabi's natural course would be to consolidate his power throughout the whole of egypt, leaving alexandria severely alone, until he had obtained absolute authority elsewhere. "anyhow, it will be a satisfaction to have the fleet up; as, at the first rumour of an outbreak, i can get you and baby on board one of the ships lying in harbour. as a simple measure of precaution, i would suggest that you should go out with me, this evening, and buy one of the costumes worn by the native women. it is only a long blue robe, enveloping you from head to foot; and one of those hideous white cotton veils, falling from below the eyes. i will get a bottle of iodine, and you will then only have to darken your forehead and eyelids, and you could pass, unsuspected, through any crowd." "but what are you going to do, gregory?" "i will get a native dress, too; but you must remember that though, if possible, i will come to you, i may not be able to do so; and in case you hear of any tumult going on, you must take baby, and go down at once to the port. you know enough of the language, now, to be able to tell a boatman to take you off to one of the steamers in the port. as soon as i get away i shall go round the port, and shall find you without difficulty. still, i do not anticipate any trouble arising without our having sufficient warning to allow me to come and see you settled on board ship; and i can then keep on in the office until it closes, when i can join you again. "of course, all this is very remote, and i trust that the occasion will never arise. still, there is no doubt that the situation is critical, and there is no harm in making our preparations for the worst. "at any rate, dear, i beg that you will not go out alone, till matters have settled down. we will do the shopping together, when i come back from the office. "there is one thing that i have reason to be grateful for. even if the worst comes to the worst, and all christians have to leave the country, the object for which i came out here has been attained. i have not heard you cough, for months; we have laid by fifty pounds; and i have written some forty stories, long and short, and if we go back i have a fair hope of making my way, for i am sure that i write better than i used to do; and as a good many of the stories are laid in egypt, the local colouring will give them a distinctive character, and they are more likely to be accepted than those i wrote before. editors of magazines like a succession of tales of that kind. "for the present, there is no doubt that the arrival of the fleet will render our position here more comfortable than it is, at present. the mere mob of the town would hesitate to attack europeans, when they know that three or four thousand sailors could land in half an hour. but on the other hand, arabi and his generals might see that alexandria was, after all, the most important position, and that it was here foreign interference must be arrested. "i should not be surprised if, on the arrival of the ships, tewfik, arabi, and all the leaders of the movement come here at once. tewfik will come to get the support of the fleet. arabi will come to oppose a landing of troops. the war in the beginning of the century was decided at alexandria, and it may be so, again. if i were sure that you would come to no harm, and i think the chances of that are very small, i own that all this would be immensely interesting, and a break to the monotony of one's life here. "one thing is fairly certain. if there is anything like a regular row, all commercial work will come to an end until matters are settled; in which case, even if the offices are not altogether closed, and the whole staff recalled to england, they would be glad enough to allow me to leave, instead of keeping me to the two years' agreement that i signed, before starting." "i should hardly think that there would be a tumult here, gregory. the natives all seem very gentle and peaceable, and the army is composed of the same sort of men." "they have been kept down for centuries, annie; but there is a deep, fanatical feeling in every mussulman's nature; and, at any rate, the great proportion of the officers of the army are mussulmans. as for the kopts, there would be no danger of trouble from them; but the cry of 'death to the christians' would excite every mahomedan in the land, almost to madness. "unfortunately, too, there is a general belief, whether truly founded or not, that although the french representative here is apparently acting in concert with ours, he and all the french officials are secretly encouraging arabi, and will take no active steps, whatever. in that case, it is doubtful whether england would act alone. the jealousy between the two peoples here is intense. for years, the french have been thwarting us at every turn; and they may very well think that, however matters might finally go, our interference would make us so unpopular, in egypt, that their influence would become completely paramount. "supremacy in egypt has always been the dream of the french. had it not been for our command of the sea, they would have obtained possession of the country in napoleon's time. their intrigues here have, for years, been incessant. their newspapers in egypt have continually maligned us, and they believe that the time has come when they will be the real, if not the nominal, rulers of egypt. the making of the suez canal was quite as much a political as a commercial move, and it has certainly added largely to their influence here; though, in this respect, a check was given to them by the purchase of the khedive's shares in the canal by lord beaconsfield; a stroke which, however, greatly increased the enmity of the french here, and heightened their efforts to excite the animosity of the people against us. "well, i hope that whatever comes of all this, the question as to whose influence is to be paramount in egypt will be finally settled. even french domination would be better than the constant intrigues and trouble, that keep the land in a state of agitation. however, i fancy that it will be the other way, if an english fleet comes here and there is trouble. i don't think we shall back down; and if we begin in earnest, we are sure to win in the long run. france must see that, and if she refuses to act, at the last moment, it can only be because arabi has it in his power to produce documents showing that he was, all along, acting in accordance with her secret advice." a week later, on the th of may, the squadrons of england and france anchored off alexandria. the british fleet consisted of eight ironclads and five gunboats, carrying three thousand five hundred and thirty-nine men and one hundred and two guns, commanded by sir frederick seymour. two days before the approach of the fleet was known at cairo, the french and english consuls proposed that the khedive should issue a decree, declaring a general amnesty, and that the president of the council, the minister of war, and the three military pashas should quit the country for a year. this request was complied with. the ministry resigned, in a body, on the day the fleet arrived; on the ground that the khedive acquiesced in foreign interference. a great meeting was held of the chief personages of state, and the officers and the representatives of the army at once told the khedive that they refused to obey his orders, and only recognized the authority of the porte. at alexandria all trade ceased at once, when it became known that the troops were busy strengthening the forts, mounting cannon, and preparing for a resistance. that this was done by the orders of arabi, who was now practically dictator, there could be no question. the native population became more and more excited, being firmly of belief that no vessels could resist the fire of the heavy guns; and that any attempt on the part of the men-of-war to reduce the place would end in their being sunk, as soon as fighting began. the office and stores were still kept open, but gregory's duties were almost nominal; and he and mr. parrot, who was also married, were told by the manager that they could spend the greater portion of their time at their homes. part of gregory's duties consisted in going off to vessels that came into the port with goods for the firm, and seeing to their being brought on shore; and he had no difficulty in making arrangements, with the captain of one of these ships, for his wife and child to go on board at once, should there be any trouble in the town. "if you hear any sounds of tumult, annie, you must disguise yourself at once, and go down to the wharf. i have arranged with our boatman, allen, whom you know well, as we have often gone out with him for a sail in the evening, that if he hears of an outbreak, he shall bring the boat to the steps at the end of this street, and take you off to the simoon. of course, i shall come if i can, but our house is one of those which have been marked off as being most suitable for defence. the men from half a dozen other establishments are to gather there and, as belonging to the house, i must aid in the defence. of course, if i get sufficient warning, i shall slip on my disguise, and hurry here, and see you down to the boat; and then make my way back to our place. but do not wait for me. if i come here and find that you have gone, i shall know that you have taken the alarm in time, and shall return at once to the office. "of course, if the outbreak commences near here, and you find that your way down to the water is blocked, you will simply put on your disguise, stain your face, and wait till i come to you, or till you see that the way to the water is clear. do not attempt to go out into a mob. there are not likely to be any women among them. however, i do not anticipate a serious riot. they may attack europeans in the street, but with some fourteen or fifteen men-of-war in the port, they are not likely to make any organized assault. arabi's agents will hardly precipitate matters in that way. hard as they may work, it will take a month to get the defences into proper order, and any rising will be merely a spasmodic outbreak of fanaticism. i don't think the danger is likely to be pressing until, finding that all remonstrances are vain, the admiral begins to bombard the port." "i will do exactly as you tell me, gregory. if i were alone, i could not bring myself to leave without you, but i must think of the child." "quite so, dear. that is the first consideration. certainly, if it comes to a fight, i should be much more comfortable with the knowledge that you and baby were in safety." the egyptian soldiers were quartered, for the most part, outside the town; and for some days there was danger that they would enter, and attack the european inhabitants; but arabi's orders were strict that, until he gave the command, they were to remain quiet. the british admiral sent messages to tewfik, insisting that the work upon the fortifications should cease, and the latter again issued orders to that effect, but these were wholly disobeyed. he had, indeed, no shadow of authority remaining; and the work continued, night and day. it was, however, as much as possible concealed from observation; but, search lights being suddenly turned upon the forts, at night, showed them to be swarming with men. things went on with comparative quiet till the th of june, although the attitude of the natives was so threatening that no europeans left their houses, except on urgent business. on that day, a sudden uproar was heard. pistols were fired, and the merchants closed their stores and barricaded their doors. gregory was in the harbour at the time and, jumping into his boat, rowed to the stairs and hurried home. he found that his wife had already disguised herself, and was in readiness to leave. the street was full of excited people. he slipped on his own disguise, darkened his face, and then, seizing a moment when the crowd had rushed up the street at the sound of firearms at the other end, hurried down to the boat, and rowed off to the simoon. "i must return now, dear," he said. "i can get in at the back gate--i have the key, as the stores are brought in through that way. i do not think that you need feel any uneasiness. the row is evidently still going on, but only a few guns are being fired now. certainly the rascals cannot be attacking the stores, or you would hear a steady musketry fire. by the sound, the riot is principally in the foreign quarter, where the maltese, greeks, and italians congregate. no doubt the police will soon put it down." the police, however, made no attempt to do so, and permitted the work of massacre to take place under their eyes. nearly two hundred europeans were killed. the majority of these dwelt in the foreign quarter, but several merchants and others were set upon, while making their way to their offices, and some seamen from the fleet were also among the victims. the british consul was dragged out of his carriage, and severely injured. the consulate was attacked, and several frenchmen were killed in the streets. the khedive hurried from cairo, on hearing the news. arabi was now sending some of his best regiments to alexandria, while pretending to be preparing for a raid upon the suez canal. he was receiving the assistance of dervish pasha, the sultan's representative; and had been recognized by the sultan, who conferred upon him the highest order of medjidie. in the meantime a conference had been held by the powers, and it was decided that the sultan should be entrusted with the work of putting down the insurrection, he being nominally lord paramount of egypt. but conditions were laid down, as to his army leaving the country afterwards. the sultan sent an evasive reply. the khedive was too overwhelmed at the situation to take any decisive course. france hesitated, and england determined that, with or without allies, she would take the matter in hand. chapter : the rising in alexandria. the harbour was full of merchant ships, as there were, at present, no means of getting their cargoes unloaded. the native boatmen had, for the most part, struck work; and had they been willing to man their boats, they must have remained idle as, in view of the situation, the merchants felt that their goods were much safer on board ship than they would be in their magazines. it was settled, therefore that, for the present, annie and the child should remain on board the simoon, while gregory should take up his residence at the office. the fleet in the harbour was now an imposing one. not only were the english and french squadrons there, but some italian ships of war had arrived, and a united states cruiser; and on the th of july, sir beauchamp seymour sent in a decisive message, that he should commence a bombardment of the fort unless the strengthening of the fortifications was, at once, abandoned. no heed was taken of the intimation and, three days later, he sent an ultimatum demanding the cessation of work, and the immediate surrender of the forts nearest to the entrance to the harbour; stating that, if these terms were not complied with in twenty-four hours, the bombardment would commence. already the greater part of the european inhabitants had left the town, and taken up their quarters in the merchant ships that had been engaged for the purpose. a few, however, of the bankers and merchants determined to remain. these gathered in the bank, and in mr. ferguson's house, to which the most valuable goods in other establishments were removed. they had an ample supply of firearms, and believed that they could hold out for a considerable time. they were convinced that the egyptian troops would not, for an hour, resist the fire that would be opened upon them, but would speedily evacuate the town; and that, therefore, there would only be the mob to be encountered, and this but for a short time, as the sailors would land as soon as the egyptian troops fled. the egyptians, on the other hand, believed absolutely in their ability to destroy the fleet. both parties were wrong. the europeans greatly undervalued the fighting powers of the egyptians, animated as they were by confidence in the strength of the defences, by their number, and by their fanaticism; while the egyptians similarly undervalued the tremendous power of our ships. that evening, and the next morning, the port presented an animated appearance. boats were putting off with those inhabitants who had waited on, hoping that the egyptians would at the last moment give in. many of the merchantmen had already cleared out. others were getting up sail. smoke was rising from the funnels of all the men of war. an express boat had brought, from france, orders that the french fleet were to take no part in the proceedings, but were to proceed at once to port said. this order excited the bitterest feeling of anger and humiliation among the french officers and sailors, who had relied confidently in taking their part in the bombardment; and silently their ships, one by one, left the port. the italian and american vessels remained for a time; and as the british ships followed, in stately order, their crews manned the rigging and vociferously cheered our sailors, who replied as heartily. all, save the british men of war, took up their stations well out at sea, in a direction where they would be out of the fire of the egyptian batteries. it was not until nine o'clock in the evening that the two last british ships, the invincible and monarch, steamed out of port. at half-past four in the morning the ships got under weigh again, and moved to the positions marked out for them. fort mex, and the batteries on the sand hills were faced by the penelope, the monarch, and the invincible; the alexandra, the superb, and the sultan faced the harbour forts, ada, pharos, and ras-el-teen; the temeraire and inflexible prepared to aid the invincible in her attack on fort mex, or to support the three battleships engaged off the port, as might be required; and the five gunboats moved away towards fort marabout, which lay some distance to the west of the town. at seven o'clock, the alexandra began the engagement by firing a single gun. then the whole fleet opened fire, the egyptian artillerymen replying with great steadiness and resolution. there was scarcely a breath of wind, and the ships were, in a few instants, shrouded in their own smoke; and were frequently obliged to cease firing until this drifted slowly away, to enable them to aim their guns. the rattle of the machine guns added to the din. midshipmen were sent aloft, and these signalled down to the deck the result of each shot, so that the gunners were enabled to direct their fire, even when they could not see ten yards beyond the muzzle of the guns. in a short time, the forts and batteries showed how terrible was the effect of the great shells. the embrasures were torn and widened, there were great gaps in the masonry of the buildings, and the hail of missiles from the machine guns swept every spot near the egyptian guns; and yet, arabi's soldiers did not flinch but, in spite of the number that fell, worked their guns as fast as ever. had they been accustomed to the huge krupp guns in their batteries, the combat would have been more equal; and although the end would have been the same, the ships must have suffered terribly. fortunately, the egyptian artillerymen had little experience in the working of these heavy pieces, and their shot in almost every case flew high--sometimes above the masts, sometimes between them, but in only a few instances striking the hull. with their smaller guns they made good practice, but though the shot from these pieces frequently struck, they dropped harmlessly from the iron sides, and only those that entered through the portholes effected any damage. the condor, under lord charles beresford, was the first to engage fort marabout; and, for a time, the little gunboat was the mark of all the guns of the fort. but the other four gunboats speedily came to her assistance, and effectually diverted the fire of the fort from the ships that were engaging fort mex. at eight o'clock the monarch, having silenced the fort opposite to her, and dismounted the guns, joined the inflexible and penelope in their duel with fort mex; and by nine o'clock all the guns were silenced except four, two of which were heavy rifled guns, well sheltered. in spite of the heavy fire from the three great ships, the egyptian soldiers maintained their fire, the officers frequently exposing themselves to the bullets of the machine guns by leaping upon the parapet, to ascertain the effect of their own shot. the harbour forts were, by this time, crumbling under the shot of four warships opposed to them. the pharos suffered most heavily, and its guns were absolutely silenced; while the fire from the other two forts slackened, considerably. at half-past ten, it was seen that the ras-el-teen palace, which lay behind the fort, was on fire; and, half an hour later, the fire from that fort and fort ada almost died out. the british admiral now gave the signal to cease firing, and as the smoke cleared away, the effects of the five hours' bombardment were visible. the forts and batteries were mere heaps of ruins. the guns could be made out, lying dismounted, or standing with their muzzles pointing upwards. the ships had not come out scatheless, but their injuries were, for the most part, immaterial; although rigging had been cut away, bulwarks smashed, and sides dinted. one gun of the penelope had been disabled, and two of the alexandra. only five men had been killed, altogether, and twenty-seven wounded. no sign was made of surrender, and an occasional fire was kept up on the forts, to prevent the egyptians from repairing damages. at one o'clock, twelve volunteers from the invincible started to destroy the guns of fort mex. their fire had ceased, and no men were to be seen in the fort; but they might have been lying in wait to attack any landing party. on nearing the shore, the surf was found to be too heavy for the boat to pass through it, and major tulloch and six men swam ashore and entered the fort. it was found to be deserted, and all the guns but two ten-inch pieces dismounted. the charges of gun cotton, that the swimmers brought ashore with them, were placed in the cannon; and their muzzles blown off. after performing this very gallant service, the little party swam back to their boat. the british admiral's position was now a difficult one. there were no signs of surrender; for aught he could tell, fifteen thousand egyptian troops might be lying round the ruined forts, or in the town hard by, in readiness to oppose a landing. that these troops were not to be despised was evident, by the gallantry with which they had fought their guns. this force would be aided by the mass of the population; and it would be hazardous, indeed, to risk the loss of fifteen hundred men, and the reversal of the success already gained. at the same time, it was painful to think that the europeans on shore might be massacred, and the whole city destroyed, by the exasperated troops and fanatical population. it was known that the number of englishmen there was not large, two or three hundred at most; but there was a much larger number of the lower class of europeans--port labourers, fishermen, petty shopkeepers, and others--who had preferred taking their chance to the certainty of losing all their little possessions, if they left them. anxiously the glasses of those on board the ships were directed towards the shore, in hopes of seeing the white flag hoisted, or a boat come out with it flying; but there were no signs of the intentions of the defenders, and the fleet prepared to resume the action in the morning. fort marabout, and several of the batteries on the shore, were still unsilenced; and two heavy guns, mounted on the moncrieff system (by which the gun rose to a level of the parapet, fired, and instantly sank again), had continued to fire all day, in spite of the efforts of the fleet to silence them. next morning, however, there was a long heavy swell, and the ironclads were rolling too heavily for anything like accuracy of aim; but as parties of men could be seen, at work in the moncrieff battery, fire was opened upon them, and they speedily evacuated it. all night, the palace of ras-el-teen burned fiercely. another great fire was raging in the heart of the town, and anxiety for those on shore, for the time, overpowered the feeling of exultation at the victory that had been gained. at half-past ten a white flag was hoisted at the pharos battery, and all on board watched, with deep anxiety, what was to follow. lieutenant lambton at once steamed into the fort, in the bittern, to enquire if the government were ready to surrender. it was three o'clock before he steamed out again, with the news that his mission was fruitless; and that the white flag had only been hoisted, by the officer in command of the fort, to enable himself and his men to get away unmolested. lieutenant lambton had obtained an interview with the military governor, on behalf of the government, and told him that we were not at war with egypt, and had simply destroyed the forts because they threatened the fleet; that we had no conditions to impose upon the government, but were ready to discuss any proposal; and that the troops would be allowed to evacuate the forts, with the honour of war. it was most unfortunate that the fleet had not brought with them two or three thousand troops. had they done so they could have landed at once, and saved a great portion of the town from destruction; but as he had no soldiers, the admiral could not land a portion of the sailors, as the large egyptian force in the town, which was still protected by a number of land batteries, might fall upon them. at five o'clock the helicon was sent in to say that white flags would not be noticed, unless hoisted by authority; and if they were again shown, the british admiral would consider them the signs of a general surrender. it was a long time before the helicon returned, with news that no communication had been received from the enemy, that the barracks and arsenals seemed to be deserted and, as far as could be seen, the whole town was evacuated. as evening wore on, fresh fires broke out in all parts of the town, and a steam pinnace was sent ashore to ascertain, if possible, the state of affairs. mr. ross, a contractor for the supply of meat to the fleet, volunteered to accompany it. the harbour was dark and deserted. not a light was to be seen in the houses near the water. the crackling of the flames could be heard, with an occasional crash of falling walls and roofs. on nearing the landing place the pinnace paused, for two or three minutes, for those on board to listen; and as all was quiet, steamed alongside. mr. ross jumped ashore, and the boat backed off a few yards. a quarter of an hour later, he returned. that quarter of the town was entirely deserted, and he had pushed on until arrested by a barrier of flames. the great square was on fire, from end to end; the european quarter generally was in flames; and he could see, by the litter that strewed the streets, that the houses had been plundered before being fired. when daylight broke, a number of europeans could be seen, at the edge of the water, in the harbour. boats were at once lowered; and the crews, armed to the teeth, rowed ashore. here they found about a hundred europeans, many of them wounded. when rioting had broken out they had, as arranged, assembled at the anglo-egyptian bank. they were taken off to the merchant steamers, lying behind the fleet, and their information confirmed the worst forebodings of the fugitives there. when the first gun of the bombardment was fired, gregory had gone up, with the other employees, to the top of the house; where they commanded a view over the whole scene of action. after the first few minutes' firing they could see but little, for batteries and ships were, alike, shrouded in smoke. at first, there had been some feeling of insecurity, and a doubt whether a shot too highly aimed might not come into the town; but the orders to abstain carefully from injuring the city had been well observed, and, except to the palace and a few houses close to the water's edge, no damage was done. towards evening, all those who had resolved to remain behind gathered at the anglo-egyptian bank, or at mr. ferguson's. but a consultation was held later, and it was agreed that next morning all should go to the bank, which was a far more massive building, with fewer entrances, and greater facilities for defence. when the town was quiet, therefore, all were employed in transferring valuable goods there, and the house was then locked up and left to its fate. against a mere rising of the rabble the latter might have been successfully defended; but there was little doubt that, before leaving the town, the troops would join the fanatics; and in that case, a house not built with a special eye for defence could hardly hope to hold out, against persistent attack. the bank, however, might hope to make a stout defence. it was built of massive stone, the lower windows were barred, and a strong barricade was built against the massive doors. a hundred and twenty resolute men, all well armed, could hold it against even a persistent attack, if unsupported by artillery. early in the afternoon, all felt that the critical moment had approached. throughout the night a fire had raged, from the opposite side of the great square; where several deserted houses had been broken into, and plundered, by the mob; but the soldiers stationed in the square had prevented any further disorder. now, however, parties of troops from the forts began to pour in. it was already known that their losses had been very heavy, and that many of the forts had been destroyed. soon they broke up and, joining the mob, commenced the work of pillage. doors were blown in, shutters torn off and, with wild yells and shouts, the native population poured in. the work of destruction had begun. the garrison of the bank saw many europeans, hurrying, too late, to reach that shelter, murdered before their eyes. in the levantine quarter, the cracking of pistols and the shouts of men showed that the work of massacre was proceeding there. soon every door of the houses in the great square was forced in, and ere long great numbers of men, loaded with spoil of all kinds, staggered out. so far the bank had been left alone; but it was now its turn, and the mob poured down upon it. as they came up, a sharp fire broke out from every window, answered by a discharge of muskets and pistols from the crowd. here men fell fast, but they had been worked up to such a pitch of excitement, and fanaticism, that the gaps were more than filled by fresh comers. all the afternoon and evening the fight continued. in vain the mob endeavoured to break down the massive iron bars of the windows, and batter in the doors. although many of the defenders were wounded, and several killed; by the fire from the windows of the neighbouring houses, and from the road; their steady fire, at the points most hotly attacked, drove their assailants back again and again. at twelve o'clock the assault slackened. the soldiers had long left and, so far as could be seen from the roof of the house, had entirely evacuated the town; and as this fact became known to the mob, the thought of the consequences of their action cooled their fury; for they knew that, probably, the troops would land from the british ships next day. each man had his plunder to secure, and gradually the crowd melted away. by two o'clock all was quiet; and although, occasionally, fresh fires burst out in various quarters of the town, there could be little doubt that the great bulk of the population had followed the example of the army, and had left the city. then the besieged gathered in the great office on the ground floor; and, as it was agreed that there would be probably no renewal of the attack, they quietly left the house, locking the doors after them, and made their way down to the shore. they believed that they were the only survivors, but when they reached the end of the town, they found that the building of the credit lyonnais had also been successfully defended, though the ottoman bank had been overpowered, and all within it, upwards of a hundred in number, killed. gregory had done his full share in the defence, and received a musket ball in the shoulder. his wife had passed a terrible time, while the conflagration was raging, and it was evident that the populace had risen, and were undoubtedly murdering as well as burning and plundering; and her delight was indeed great when she saw her husband, with others, approaching in a man-of-war's boat. the fact that one arm was in a sling was scarcely noticed, in her joy at his return, alive. "thank god, you are safe!" she said, as he came up the gangway. "it has been an awful time, and i had almost given up hope of ever seeing you alive, again." "i told you, dear, that i felt confident we could beat off the scum of the town. of course it was a sharp fight, but there was never any real danger of their breaking in. we only lost about half a dozen, out of nearly a hundred and twenty, and some twenty of us were wounded. my injury is not at all serious, and i shall soon be all right again. it is only a broken collarbone. "however, it has been a terrible time. the great square, and almost all the european quarter, have been entirely destroyed. the destruction of property is something frightful, and most of the merchants will be absolutely ruined. fortunately, our firm were insured, pretty well up to the full value." "but i thought that they could not break in there?" "we all moved out, the evening before, to the anglo-egyptian bank. the town was full of troops, and we doubted whether we could hold the place. as the bank was much stronger, we agreed that it was better to join the two garrisons and fight it out there; and i am very glad we did so, for i doubt whether we could have defended our place, successfully." mr. ferguson and the clerks had all come off with gregory to the simoon, on board which there was plenty of accommodation for them, as it was not one of the ships that had been taken up for the accommodation of the fugitives. among the party who came on board was a doctor, who had taken part in the defence of the bank, and had attended to the wounded as the fight went on. he did so again that evening, and told gregory that in a month he would, if he took care of himself, be able to use his arm again. the next morning there was a consultation in the cabin. mr. ferguson had gone on shore, late the previous afternoon; as five hundred sailors had been landed, and had returned in the evening. "it is certain," he said, "that nothing can be done until the place is rebuilt. the sailors are busy at work, fighting the fire, but there are continued fresh outbreaks. the bulk of the natives have left; but arabi, before marching out, opened the prisons and released the convicts; and these and the scum of the town are still there, and continue the destruction whenever they get a chance. a score or two have been caught red handed and shot down, and a number of others have been flogged. "another batch of sailors will land this morning, and order will soon be restored; unless arabi, who is encamped, with some ten thousand men, two miles outside the town, makes an effort to recover the place. i don't think he is likely to do so, for now that the european houses have all been destroyed, there would be no longer any reluctance to bombard the town itself; and even if arabi did recover it, he would very soon be shelled out. "by the way, a larger number of people have been saved than was imagined. several of the streets in the poor european quarters have escaped. the people barricaded the ends, and fought so desperately that their assailants drew off, finding it easier to plunder the better quarters. even if the mob had overcome the resistance of the defenders of the lanes, they would have found little worth taking there; so some five hundred europeans have escaped, and these will be very useful. "charley beresford has charge of the police arrangements on shore, and he has gangs of them at work fighting the fire, and all the natives are forced to assist. the wires will be restored in a day or two, when i shall, of course, telegraph for instructions; and have no doubt that mr. partridge will send out orders to rebuild as soon as order is completely restored. "i imagine that most of us will be recalled home, until that is done. even if the place were intact, no business would be done, as our goods would be of little use to the navy or army; for no doubt an army will be sent. arabi is as powerful as ever, but now that we have taken the matter in hand, it must be carried through. "at any rate, there will be no clerks' work to be done here. the plans for a new building will naturally be prepared at home, and a foreman of works sent out. it is a bad job for us all, but as it is we must not complain; for we have escaped with our lives, and i hope that, in six months, we may open again. however, we can form no plans, until i receive instructions from home." gregory did not go ashore for the next week, by which time order had been completely restored, the fires extinguished, and the streets made, at least, passable. the sailors had been aided by a battalion of marines, which had been telegraphed for from malta by the admiral, before the bombardment began. the khedive had returned to has-el-teen, which had only been partly destroyed, as soon as the blue-jackets entered. his arrival put an end to all difficulties, as henceforward our operations were carried on, nominally, by his orders. the american ships entered the harbour the next day and the naval officer in command landed one hundred and twenty-five men, to assist our blue-jackets; and, two days later, the th regiment and a battalion of the th rifles arrived. the shops in the streets that escaped destruction gradually reopened, and country people began to bring in supplies. many of the refugees on board the ships sailed for home, while those who found their houses still standing, although everything in them was smashed and destroyed, set to work to make them habitable. soon temporary sheds were erected, and such portions of the cargoes on board the merchantmen as would be likely to find a sale, were landed. before the end of the week, mr. ferguson had received an answer to his telegram. three days previously he had received a wire: "have written fully." the letter came via marseilles. after congratulations at the escape of himself and the staff, mr. partridge wrote: "as you say that the house and warehouse are entirely destroyed, with all contents, there can be nothing for you and the clerks to do; and you had best return, at once, to england. i will make the best arrangements that i can for you all. "as i have a plan of the ground, i have already instructed an architect to prepare a sketch for rebuilding, on a larger scale than before. the insurance companies are sending out agents to verify claims. looking at your last report, it seems to me that the loss of goods, as well as that of buildings, will be fully covered. should any of the staff determine to remain in alexandria, and to take their chance of finding something to do, you are authorized to pay them three months' salary, and to promise to reinstate them, as soon as we reopen. "i anticipate no further disturbances, whatever. a strong force is being sent out, and there can be no doubt that arabi will be crushed, as soon as it is ready to take the field." other directions followed, but these were only amplifications of those mentioned. "what do you think, annie?" gregory said, when ferguson had read to his staff that portion of the letter that concerned them. "shall we take the three months' pay and remain here, or shall we go back to england?" "what do you think, yourself?" "there are two lights in which to look at it, annie. first, which would be best for us? and secondly, which shall we like best? of course, the first is the more difficult point to decide. you see, partridge doesn't say that we shall be kept on; he only says that he will do his best for us. i don't think that there is any chance of his keeping us on at full pay. if he intended to do so, it would have been cheaper for him to give us our pay here, in which case he would save our passages back to england and out again. i think we could not reckon on getting anything like full pay, while we were in england, and you know i have lost faith in my literary powers. i think i have improved, but i certainly should not like, after our last experience, to trust to that for keeping us, in england. "the question is, what should i do here? there will be plenty of openings, for men who can speak the native language, as labour overseers. the contractors for food for the army will want men of that sort; and as i know several of them, through my work in the port and being in partridge's house, i have no doubt i could get employment that way, and carry on very well till trade is open again, and obtain then a good deal better berth than they would offer me. no doubt, one could get employment in the transport or commissariat of the army, when it comes out. that will be a thing to think seriously of. "my objections to that are personal ones. in the first place, it would lead to nothing when the affair is over. in the second place, i should be certain to meet men i knew at harrow, or at the university, or since then; and i own that i should shrink from that. as gregory hilliard, i don't mind carrying a parcel or helping to load a dray; but i should not like, as gregory hartley, to be known to be doing that sort of thing. personally i feel not the smallest humiliation in doing so, but i don't think it would be fair to geoffrey. i should not like it myself, if i were an earl, for fellows who knew him to be able to say that my brother was knocking about in egypt as an interpreter, or mule driver, or something of that sort. that certainly has to be taken into consideration. "it is not likely that i should get any sort of berth that an officer would be appointed to, for every officer in the army, whose regiment is not coming out here, will be rushing to the war office to apply for any sort of appointment that would enable him to come out to the war. "again, it is almost certain that, when this business is over--and i don't suppose it will last long, after we get an army out here--a fresh egyptian force will be raised. you may be sure that the greater portion of our troops will be hurried back, as soon as it is over; and that, as the present egyptian army will be altogether smashed up, it will be absolutely necessary that there should be a force, of some kind or other, that can put a stop to this mahdi fellow's doings. he has overrun half the soudan, and inflicted serious defeats on the egyptian troops there. he has captured a considerable portion of kordofan; and, of course, it is owing to his insurrection that those rows have occurred down at the red sea, where our men have been fighting. "it is likely enough that they may appoint some british officers to the new force, and i might get a fair position on it. they will want interpreters there. promotion will be sure to be rapid, and i might have opportunities of distinguishing myself, and get an appointment where i could, without discrediting it, take my own name again. "these are only among the things that might be; but at the worst, i am certain to get some sort of post, at alexandria, which would enable us to live without trenching upon the three months' pay that is offered me; and then, if i could see nothing better, i could return to partridge's employment when they reopen here, and i have no doubt that they would improve my position. "i don't think that parrott is likely to come back again. the climate did not suit him, and he is always having attacks of fever. ferguson has, i know, for he told me so, reported very favourably about my work to headquarters; and, as i have been wounded in defence of the house, i have an additional claim. the others will, of course, be moved up, and i should get the junior clerkship--no advance in the way of remuneration, but a great improvement in position. "so i think we had better accept the three months' pay, and take our chances. at any rate, there will be no fear of another disturbance at alexandria. the mob have had a lesson here that they are not likely to forget, and i should fancy that, although we may withdraw the army, two or three regiments will be left here, and at cairo, for a long time to come. we should be fools, indeed, if we threw away the money that this business will cost, before it is over, and let egypt slip altogether out of our fingers again. france has forfeited her right to have anything to say in the matter. in our hands it will be a very valuable possession, and certainly our stay here would be of inestimable advantage to the natives, as we should govern egypt as we govern india, and do away with the tyranny, oppression, and extortion of the native officials." mrs. hilliard quite agreed with her husband; and accordingly, the next day, gregory informed mr. ferguson that he would accept the three months' pay, and his discharge; and should, at any rate for a time, remain in alexandria. "i think you are right, hilliard. there will be lots of opportunities here for a man who knows the language as you do. if you like, i will speak to mr. ross. i saw him yesterday, in the town, and he said that two of his assistants had been killed. he has already obtained a fresh contract, and a very heavy one, for the supply of meat for the troops as they arrive; and i have no doubt he would be very glad to engage you, on good terms, though the engagement could only be made during the stay of the army here." "thank you, sir. i shall be much obliged to you if you will do so; and i would rather that the engagement should be a temporary one, on both sides, so that i should be free to leave, at a few days' notice." the contractor, after a chat with gregory hilliard, was glad to secure his services. he saw the advantage that it would be to have a gentleman to represent him, with the army, instead of an agent of a very different kind. other men would do to purchase animals from the arabs, or to receive them at the ports when they were brought over from spain and italy; but it required a variety of qualities, difficult to obtain in the same person, to act as agent with the army. gregory was exactly the man required, and he was soon on excellent terms, both with the officers of the quartermaster's department, and the contractors who brought in the cargoes of cattle. as soon as the bulk of the army sailed from alexandria to ismailia, he made the latter town his headquarters; and by his power of work, his tact and good temper, he smoothed away all the difficulties that so often arise between contractors and army officials, and won the goodwill of all with whom he came in contact. when the army removed to cairo, after the defeat and dispersal of arabi's force at tel-el-kebir, gregory established himself there, and was joined by his wife and child. as soon as matters settled down, and a considerable portion of the troops had left egypt, mr. ross said to him: "of course, our operations in the future will be comparatively small, mr. hilliard, and i must reduce my staff." "i quite understand that," gregory replied, "and i knew that i should have to look out for something else." "i shall be very sorry to lose your services, which have indeed been invaluable, and i am sure have been appreciated, by the army men as much as by myself. i certainly should not think of your leaving me, until you get another berth; and it is only because i see an opening, if you like to take it, that might lead to something better, in the future, than anything i can offer you. "you know that colonel hicks arrived here, a fortnight since, and is to take command of the egyptian army, and to have the rank of pasha. several officers have received appointments on his staff. he will shortly be going up to khartoum. i was speaking to him yesterday, and as i was doing so, two of the officers of wolseley's staff came in. a question of supplies came up, and i mentioned your name, and said that i thought that you were the very man for him, that you were master of arabic, and an excellent organizer; and, a very important matter where there were so few english officers together, a gentleman. "one of the officers, who knew the work that you had done, at once confirmed what i had said, and declared that wolseley's quartermaster general would speak as warmly in your favour. hicks told me that, until he got up to khartoum, he could not say what arrangements would be made for the supplies; but that he would, at any rate, be very glad to have you with him, in the capacity of a first-class interpreter, and for general service with the staff, with the temporary rank of captain; with the special view of your services in organizing a supply train, when he moved forward. i said that i should speak to you, and ascertain your views." "i am very much obliged to you, indeed. i must take twenty-four hours to think it over. of course i shall be guided, to some extent, by the question whether the appointment would be likely to be a permanent one." "that i have no doubt. indeed, hicks said as much. i asked him the question, and he replied, 'i can hardly make a permanent appointment now, as i am not quite in the saddle; but i have no doubt, from what you say, that mr. hilliard will make a valuable officer; and after our first campaign i shall, without difficulty, be able to obtain him a permanent appointment in the egyptian army.'" "i thank you, most heartily, mr. ross. it seems to me a grand opening. there is no doubt that, as our troops leave, the egyptian army will be thoroughly reorganized; and there will be many openings for a man who knows the language, and is ready to work hard; and, no doubt, the regiments will be largely officered by englishmen." that evening, gregory had a long talk with his wife. "i don't like the thought of leaving you, even for a time; but no doubt, when the mahdi is settled with, you will be able to join me at khartoum; which, i believe, is by no means an unpleasant place to live in. of course, i shall come down and take you up. it is a splendid chance, and will really be my reinstatement. once holding a commission in the egyptian army, i should resume my own name, and have the future to look forward to. entering the service as the army is being reorganized, i should have a great pull, and should be sure to get on, and be able to write to my father and brother, without its appearing that i wanted help of any kind." there were tears in mrs. hilliard's eyes, but she said bravely: "i quite agree with you, gregory. of course, i shall be sorry that you should leave me, even for a time; but it seems to me, too, that it is a grand opportunity. you know what a pain it was to me, all the time that we were at alexandria, that you should be working in such a subordinate position. now there is an opening by which you will be in a position, ere long, more worthy of your birth and education. i have no doubt i shall get on very well, here. i believe that hicks pasha has brought his wife out with him here; and some of his officers will, no doubt, be married men also; and as the wife of one of his officers i shall, of course, get to know them. i should be selfish, indeed, to say a word to keep you back, and shall be delighted to think of you associating with other english gentlemen, as one of themselves." and so it was settled. the next day, gregory called on hicks pasha. the latter had made some more enquiries respecting him, and was well pleased with his appearance. "i have already a gentleman named as staff interpreter, mr. hilliard, but i can appoint you, at once, interpreter to the quartermaster's department, attached to my personal staff for the present. i can tell you that the egyptian army will be largely increased, and i shall be able, after a time, to procure you a better appointment. when we have once defeated the mahdi, and restored order, there will be many appointments open for the reorganization of the soudan. there are a good many preparations to be made, before i leave, which i expect to do in the course of three or four weeks; and i shall be glad of your assistance, as soon as you can join us." "i shall be glad to do so, at once. mr. ross has kindly told me that i am at liberty to resign my post, under him, as soon as i like." "very well, then. you may consider yourself appointed, today. my intention is to go first to suakim, and thence up to berber, and so by water to khartoum." the next three weeks passed rapidly. gregory was, on the following day, introduced to the various officers of hicks pasha's staff; and, on learning that he was married, the general asked him and his wife to dinner, to make the acquaintance of lady hicks, and the wives of three of his fellow officers. at last, the time came for parting. annie bore up well; and although, when alone, she had many a cry, she was always cheerful, and went with her husband and saw him off, at the station of the railway for ismailia, without breaking down badly. chapter : a terrible disaster. it was an anxious time for his wife, after gregory started. he, and those with him, had left with a feeling of confidence that the insurrection would speedily be put down. the garrison of khartoum had inflicted several severe defeats upon the mahdi, but had also suffered some reverses. this, however, was only to be expected, when the troops under him were scarcely more disciplined than those of the dervishes, who had always been greatly superior in numbers, and inspired with a fanatical belief in their prophet. but with british officers to command, and british officers to drill and discipline the troops, there could be no fear of a recurrence of these disasters. before they started, mrs. hilliard had become intimate with the wife of hicks pasha, and those of the other married officers, and had paid visits with them to the harems of high turkish officials. visits were frequently exchanged, and what with these, and the care of the boy, her time was constantly occupied. she received letters from gregory, as frequently as possible, after his arrival at omdurman, and until he set out with the main body, under the general, on the way to el obeid. before starting, he said he hoped that, in another two months, the campaign would be over, el obeid recovered, and the mahdi smashed up; and that, as soon as they returned to khartoum, hicks pasha would send for his wife and daughters, and the other married officers for their wives; and, of course, she would accompany them. "i cannot say much for omdurman," he wrote; "but khartoum is a nice place. many of the houses there have shady gardens. hicks has promised to recommend me for a majority, in one of the turkish regiments. in the intervals of my own work, i have got up drill. i shall, of course, tell him then what my real name is, so that i can be gazetted in it. it is likely enough that, even after we defeat the mahdi, this war may go on for some time before it is stamped out; and in another year i may be a full-blown colonel, if only an egyptian one; and as the pay of the english officers is good, i shall be able to have a very comfortable home for you. "i need not repeat my instructions, darling, as to what you must do in the event, improbable as it is, of disaster. when absolutely assured of my death, but not until then, you will go back to england with the boy, and see my father. he is not a man to change his mind, unless i were to humble myself before him; but i think he would do the right thing for you. if he will not, there is the letter for geoffrey. he has no settled income at present, but when he comes into the title he will, i feel quite certain, make you an allowance. i know that you would, for yourself, shrink from doing this; but, for the boy's sake, you will not hesitate to carry out my instructions. i should say you had better write to my father, for the interview might be an unpleasant one; but if you have to appeal to geoffrey, you had better call upon him and show him this letter. i feel sure that he will do what he can. "gregory." a month later, a messenger came up from suakim with a despatch, dated october rd. the force was then within a few days' march of el obeid. the news was not altogether cheering. hordes of the enemy hovered about their rear. communication was already difficult, and they had to depend upon the stores they carried, and cut themselves off altogether from the base. he brought some private letters from the officers, and among them one for mrs. hilliard. it was short, and written in pencil: "in a few days, dear, the decisive battle will take place; and although it will be a tough fight, none of us have any fear of the result. in the very improbable event of a defeat, i shall, if i have time, slip on the arab dress i have with me, and may hope to escape. however, i have little fear that it will come to that. god bless and protect you, and the boy! "gregory." a month passed away. no news came from hicks pasha, or any of his officers. then there were rumours current in the bazaars, of disaster; and one morning, when annie called upon lady hicks, she found several of the ladies there with pale and anxious faces. she paused at the door. "do not be alarmed, mrs. hilliard," lady hicks said. "nizim pasha has been here this morning. he thought that i might have heard the rumours that are current in the bazaar, that there has been a disaster, but he says there is no confirmation whatever of these reports. he does not deny, however, that they have caused anxiety among the authorities; for sometimes these rumours, whose origin no one knows, do turn out to be correct. he said that enquiries have been made, but no foundation for the stories can be got at. i questioned him closely, and he says that he can only account for them on the ground that, if a victory had been won, an official account from government should have been here before this; and that it is solely on this account that these rumours have got about. he said there was no reason for supposing that this silence meant disaster. a complete victory might have been won; and yet the messenger with the despatches might have been captured, and killed, by the parties of tribesmen hanging behind the army, or wandering about the country between the army and khartoum. still, of course, this is making us all very anxious." the party soon broke up, none having any reassuring suggestions to offer; and annie returned to her lodging, to weep over her boy, and pray for the safety of his father. days and weeks passed, and still no word came to cairo. at khartoum there was a ferment among the native population. no secret was made of the fact that the tribesmen who came and went all declared that hicks pasha's army was utterly destroyed. at length, the egyptian government announced to the wives of the officers that pensions would be given to them, according to the rank of their husbands. as captain and interpreter, gregory's wife had but a small one, but it was sufficient for her to live upon. one by one, the other ladies gave up hope and returned to england, but annie stayed on. misfortune might have befallen the army, but gregory might have escaped in disguise. she had, like the other ladies, put on mourning for him; for had she declared her belief that he might still be alive, she could not have applied for the pension, and this was necessary for the child's sake. of one thing she was determined. she would not go with him, as beggars, to the father who had cast gregory off; until, as he had said, she received absolute news of his death. she was not in want; but as her pension was a small one, and she felt that it would be well for her to be employed, she asked lady hicks, before she left, to mention at the houses of the egyptian ladies to whom she went to say goodbye, that mrs. hilliard would be glad to give lessons in english, french, or music. the idea pleased them, and she obtained several pupils. some of these were the ladies themselves, and the lessons generally consisted in sitting for an hour with them, two or three times a week, and talking to them; the conversation being in short sentences, of which she gave them the english translation, which they repeated over and over again, until they knew them by heart. this caused great amusement, and was accompanied by much laughter, on the part of the ladies and their attendants. several of her pupils, however, were young boys and girls, and the teaching here was of a more serious kind. the lessons to the boys were given the first thing in the morning, and the pupils were brought to her house by attendants. at eleven o'clock she taught the girls, and returned at one, and had two hours more teaching in the afternoon. she could have obtained more pupils, had she wished to; but the pay she received, added to her income, enabled her to live very comfortably, and to save up money. she had a negro servant, who was very fond of the boy, and she could leave him in her charge with perfect confidence, while she was teaching. in the latter part of , she ventured to hope that some news might yet come to her, for a british expedition had started for the relief of general gordon, who had gone up early in the year to khartoum; where it was hoped that the influence he had gained among the natives, at the time he was in command of the egyptian forces in the soudan, would enable him to make head against the insurrection. his arrival had been hailed by the population, but it was soon evident to him that, unless aided by england with something more than words, khartoum must finally fall. but his requests for aid were slighted. he had asked that two regiments should be sent from suakim, to keep open the route to berber, but mr. gladstone's government refused even this slight assistance to the man they had sent out, and it was not until may that public indignation, at this base desertion of one of the noblest spirits that britain ever produced, caused preparations for his rescue to be made; and it was december before the leading regiment arrived at korti, far up the nile. after fighting two hard battles, a force that had marched across the loop of the nile came down upon it above metemmeh. a party started up the river at once, in two steamers which gordon had sent down to meet them, but only arrived near the town to hear that they were too late, that khartoum had fallen, and that gordon had been murdered. the army was at once hurried back to the coast, leaving it to the mahdists--more triumphant than ever--to occupy dongola; and to push down, and possibly, as they were confident they should do, to capture egypt itself. the news of the failure was a terrible blow to mrs. hilliard. she had hoped that, when khartoum was relieved, some information at least might be obtained, from prisoners, as to the fate of the british officers at el obeid. that most of them had been killed was certain, but she still clung to the hope that her husband might have escaped from the general massacre, thanks to his knowledge of the language, and the disguise he had with him; and even that if captured later on he might be a prisoner; or that he might have escaped detection altogether, and be still living among friendly tribesmen. it was a heavy blow to her, therefore, when she heard that the troops were being hurried down to the coast, and that the mahdi would be uncontested master of egypt, as far as assouan. she did, however, receive news when the force returned to cairo, which, although depressing, did not extinguish all hope. lieutenant colonel colborne, by good luck, had ascertained that a native boy in the service of general buller claimed to have been at el obeid. upon questioning him closely, he found out that he had unquestionably been there, for he described accurately the position colonel colborne--who had started with hicks pasha, but had been forced by illness to return--had occupied in one of the engagements. the boy was then the slave of an egyptian officer of the expedition. the army had suffered much from want of water, but they had obtained plenty from a lake within three days' march from el obeid. from this point they were incessantly fired at, by the enemy. on the second day they were attacked, but beat off the enemy, though with heavy loss to themselves. the next day they pressed forward, as it was necessary to get to water; but they were misled by their guide, and at noon the arabs burst down upon them, the square in which the force was marching was broken, and a terrible slaughter took place. then hicks pasha, with his officers, seeing that all was lost, gathered together and kept the enemy at bay with their revolvers, till their ammunition was exhausted. after that they fought with their swords till all were killed, hicks pasha being the last to fall. the lad himself hid among the dead and was not discovered until the next morning, when he was made a slave by the man who found him. this was terrible! but there was still hope. if this boy had concealed himself among the dead, her husband might have done the same. not being a combatant officer, he might not have been near the others when the affair took place; and moreover, the lad had said that the black regiment in the rear of the square had kept together and marched away; he believed all had been afterwards killed, but this he did not know. if gregory had been there when the square was broken, he might well have kept with them, and at nightfall slipped on his disguise and made his escape. it was at least possible--she would not give up all hope. so years went on. things were quiet in egypt. a native army had been raised there, under the command of british officers, and these had checked the northern progress of the mahdists and restored confidence in egypt. gregory--for the boy had been named after his father--grew up strong and hearty. his mother devoted her evenings to his education. from the negress, who was his nurse and the general servant of the house, he had learnt to talk her native language. she had been carried off, when ten years old, by a slave-raiding party, and sold to an egyptian trader at khartoum; been given by him to an atbara chief, with whom he had dealings; and, five years later, had been captured in a tribal war by the jaalin. two or three times she had changed masters, and finally had been purchased by an egyptian officer, and brought down by him to cairo. at his death, four years afterwards, she had been given her freedom, being now past fifty, and had taken service with gregory hilliard and his wife. her vocabulary was a large one, and she was acquainted with most of the dialects of the soudan tribes. from the time when her husband was first missing, mrs. hilliard cherished the idea that, some day, the child might grow up and search for his father; and, perhaps, ascertain his fate beyond all doubt. she was a very conscientious woman, and was resolved that, at whatever pain to herself, she would, when once certain of her husband's death, go to england and obtain recognition of his boy by his family. but it was pleasant to think that the day was far distant when she could give up hope. she saw, too, that if the soudan was ever reconquered, the knowledge of the tribal languages must be of immense benefit to her son; and she therefore insisted, from the first, that the woman should always talk to him in one or other of the languages that she knew. thus gregory, almost unconsciously, acquired several of the dialects used in the soudan. arabic formed the basis of them all, except the negro tongue. at first he mixed them up, but as he grew, mrs. hilliard insisted that his nurse should speak one for a month, and then use another; so that, by the time he was twelve years old, the boy could speak in the negro tongue, and half a dozen dialects, with equal facility. his mother had, years before, engaged a teacher of arabic for him. this he learned readily, as it was the root of the egyptian and the other languages he had picked up. of a morning, he sat in the school and learned pure arabic and turkish, while the boys learned english; and therefore, without an effort, when he was twelve years old he talked these languages as well as english; and had, moreover, a smattering of italian and french, picked up from boys of his own age, for his mother had now many acquaintances among the european community. while she was occupied in the afternoon, with her pupils, the boy had liberty to go about as he pleased; and indeed she encouraged him to take long walks, to swim, and to join in all games and exercises. "english boys at home," she said, "have many games, and it is owing to these that they grow up so strong and active. they have more opportunities than you, but you must make the most of those that you have. we may go back to england some day, and i should not at all like you to be less strong than others." as, however, such opportunities were very small, she had an apparatus of poles, horizontal bars, and ropes set up, such as those she had seen, in england, in use by the boys of one of the families where she had taught, before her marriage; and insisted upon gregory's exercising himself upon it for an hour every morning, soon after sunrise. as she had heard her husband once say that fencing was a splendid exercise, not only for developing the figure, but for giving a good carriage as well as activity and alertness, she arranged with a frenchman who had served in the army, and had gained a prize as a swordsman in the regiment, to give the boy lessons two mornings in the week. thus, at fifteen, gregory was well grown and athletic, and had much of the bearing and appearance of an english public-school boy. his mother had been very particular in seeing that his manners were those of an englishman. "i hope the time will come when you will associate with english gentlemen, and i should wish you, in all respects, to be like them. you belong to a good family; and should you, by any chance, some day go home, you must do credit to your dear father." the boy had, for some years, been acquainted with the family story, except that he did not know the name he bore was his father's christian name, and not that of his family. "my grandfather must have been a very bad man, mother, to have quarreled with my father for marrying you." "well, my boy, you hardly understand the extent of the exclusiveness of some englishmen. of course, it is not always so, but to some people, the idea of their sons or daughters marrying into a family of less rank than themselves appears to be an almost terrible thing. as i have told you, although the daughter of a clergyman, i was, when i became an orphan, obliged to go out as a governess." "but there was no harm in that, mother?" "no harm, dear; but a certain loss of position. had my father been alive, and had i been living with him in a country rectory, your grandfather might not have been pleased at your father's falling in love with me, because he would probably have considered that, being, as you know by his photograph, a fine, tall, handsome man, and having the best education money could give him, he might have married very much better; that is to say, the heiress of a property, or into a family of influence, through which he might have been pushed on; but he would not have thought of opposing the marriage on the ground of my family. but a governess is a different thing. she is, in many cases, a lady in every respect, but her position is a doubtful one. "in some families she is treated as one of themselves. in others, her position is very little different from that of an upper servant. your grandfather was a passionate man, and a very proud man. your father's elder brother was well provided for, but there were two sisters, and these and your father he hoped would make good marriages. he lived in very good style, but your uncle was extravagant, and your grandfather was over indulgent, and crippled himself a good deal in paying the debts that he incurred. it was natural, therefore, that he should have objected to your father's engagement to what he called a penniless governess. it was only what was to be expected. if he had stated his objections to the marriage calmly, there need have been no quarrel. your father would assuredly have married me, in any case; and your grandfather might have refused to assist him, if he did so, but there need have been no breakup in the family, such as took place. "however, as it was, your father resented his tone, and what had been merely a difference of opinion became a serious quarrel, and they never saw each other, afterwards. it was a great grief to me, and it was owing to that, and his being unable to earn his living in england, that your father brought me out here. i believe he would have done well at home, though it would have been a hard struggle. at that time i was very delicate, and was ordered by the doctors to go to a warm climate, and therefore your father accepted a position of a kind which, at least, enabled us to live, and obtained for me the benefit of a warm climate. "then the chance came of his going up to the soudan, and there was a certainty that, if the expedition succeeded, as everyone believed it would, he would have obtained permanent rank in the egyptian army, and so recovered the position in life that he had voluntarily given up, for my sake." "and what was the illness you had, mother?" "it was an affection of the lungs, dear. it was a constant cough, that threatened to turn to consumption, which is one of the most fatal diseases we have in england." "but it hasn't cured you, mother, for i often hear you coughing, at night." "yes, my cough has been a little troublesome of late, gregory." indeed, from the time of the disaster to the expedition of hicks pasha, annie hilliard had lost ground. she herself was conscious of it; but, except for the sake of the boy, she had not troubled over it. she had not altogether given up hope, but the hope grew fainter and fainter, as the years went on. had it not been for the promise to her husband, not to mention his real name or to make any application to his father unless absolutely assured of his death, she would, for gregory's sake, have written to mr. hartley, and asked for help that would have enabled her to take the boy home to england, and have him properly educated there. but she had an implicit faith in the binding of a promise so made, and as long as she was not driven, by absolute want, to apply to mr. hartley, was determined to keep to it. a year after this conversation, gregory was sixteen. now tall and strong, he had, for some time past, been anxious to obtain some employment that would enable his mother to give up her teaching. some of this, indeed, she had been obliged to relinquish. during the past few months her cheeks had become hollow, and her cough was now frequent by day, as well as by night. she had consulted an english doctor, who, she saw by the paper, was staying at shepherd's hotel. he had hesitated before giving a direct opinion, but on her imploring him to tell her the exact state of her health, said gently: "i am afraid, madam, that i can give you no hope of recovery. one lung has already gone, the other is very seriously diseased. were you living in england, i should say that your life might be prolonged by taking you to a warm climate; but as it is, no change could be made for the better." "thank you, doctor. i wanted to know the exact truth, and be able to make my arrangements accordingly. i was quite convinced that my condition was hopeless, but i thought it right to consult a physician, and to know how much time i could reckon on. can you tell me that?" "that is always difficult, mrs. hilliard. it may be three months hence. it might be more speedily--a vessel might give way in the lungs, suddenly. on the other hand, you might live six months. of course, i cannot say how rapid the progress of the disease has been." "it may not be a week, doctor. i am not at all afraid of hearing your sentence--indeed, i can see it in your eyes." "it may be within a week"--the doctor bowed his head gravely--"it may be at any time." "thank you!" she said, quietly. "i was sure it could not be long. i have been teaching, but three weeks ago i had to give up my last pupil. my breath is so short that the slightest exertion brings on a fit of coughing." on her return home she said to gregory: "my dear boy, you must have seen--you cannot have helped seeing--that my time is not long here. i have seen an english doctor today, and he says the end may come at any moment." "oh, mother, mother!" the lad cried, throwing himself on his knees, and burying his face in her lap, "don't say so!" the news, indeed, did not come as a surprise to him. he had, for months, noticed the steady change in her: how her face had fallen away, how her hands seemed nerveless, her flesh transparent, and her eyes grew larger and larger. many times he had walked far up among the hills and, when beyond the reach of human eye, thrown himself down and cried unrestrainedly, until his strength seemed utterly exhausted, and yet the verdict now given seemed to come as a sudden blow. "you must not break down, dear," she said quietly. "for months i have felt that it was so; and, but for your sake, i did not care to live. i thank god that i have been spared to see you growing up all that i could wish; and though i should have liked to see you fairly started in life, i feel that you may now make your way, unaided. "now i want, before it is too late, to give you instructions. in my desk you will find a sealed envelope. it contains a copy of the registers of my marriage, and of your birth. these will prove that your father married, and had a son. you can get plenty of witnesses who can prove that you were the child mentioned. i promised your father that i would not mention our real name to anyone, until it was necessary for me to write to your grandfather. i have kept that promise. his name was gregory hilliard, so we have not taken false names. they were his christian names. the third name, his family name, you will find when you open that envelope. "i have been thinking, for months past, what you had best do; and this is my advice, but do not look upon it as an order. you are old enough to think for yourself. you know that sir herbert kitchener, the sirdar, is pushing his way up the nile. i have no doubt that, with your knowledge of arabic, and of the language used by the black race in the soudan, you will be able to obtain some sort of post in the army, perhaps as an interpreter to one of the officers commanding a brigade--the same position, in fact, as your father had, except that the army is now virtually british, whereas that he went with was egyptian. "i have two reasons for desiring this. i do not wish you to go home, until you are in a position to dispense with all aid from your family. i have done without it, and i trust that you will be able to do the same. i should like you to be able to go home at one-and-twenty, and to say to your grandfather, 'i have not come home to ask for money or assistance of any kind. i am earning my living honourably. i only ask recognition, by my family, as my father's son.' "it is probable that this expedition will last fully two years. it must be a gradual advance, and even then, if the khalifa is beaten, it must be a considerable time before matters are thoroughly settled. there will be many civil posts open to those who, like yourself, are well acquainted with the language of the country; and if you can obtain one of these, you may well remain there until you come of age. you can then obtain a few months' leave of absence and go to england. "my second reason is that, although my hope that your father is still alive has almost died out, it is just possible that he is, like neufeld and some others, a prisoner in the khalifa's hands; or possibly living as an arab cultivator near el obeid. many prisoners will be taken, and from some of these we may learn such details, of the battle, as may clear us of the darkness that hangs over your father's fate. "when you do go home, gregory, you had best go first to your father's brother. his address is on a paper in the envelope. he was heir to a peerage, and has, perhaps, now come into it. i have no reasons for supposing that he sided with his father against yours. the brothers were not bad friends, although they saw little of each other; for your father, after he left oxford, was for the most part away from england, until a year before his marriage; and at that time your uncle was in america, having gone out with two or three others on a hunting expedition among the rocky mountains. there is, therefore, no reason for supposing that he will receive you otherwise than kindly, when once he is sure that you are his nephew. he may, indeed, for aught i know, have made efforts to discover your father, after he returned from abroad." "i would rather leave them alone altogether, mother," gregory said passionately. "that you cannot do, my boy. your father was anxious that you should be at least recognized, and afterwards bear your proper name. you will not be going as a beggar, and there will be nothing humiliating. as to your grandfather, he may not even be alive. it is seldom that i see an english newspaper, and even had his death been advertised in one of the papers, i should hardly have noticed it, as i never did more than just glance at the principal items of news. "in my desk you will also see my bank book. it is in your name. i have thought it better that it should stand so, as it will save a great deal of trouble, should anything happen to me. happily, i have never had any reasons to draw upon it, and there are now about five hundred and fifty pounds standing to your credit. of late you have generally paid in the money, and you are personally known to the manager. should there be any difficulty, i have made a will leaving everything to you. that sum will keep you, if you cannot obtain the employment we speak of, until you come of age; and will, at any rate, facilitate your getting employment with the army, as you will not be obliged to demand much pay, and can take anything that offers. "another reason for your going to england is that your grandfather may, if he is dead, have relented at last towards your father, and may have left him some share in his fortune; and although you might well refuse to accept any help from him, if he is alive, you can have no hesitation in taking that which should be yours by right. i think sometimes now, my boy, that i have been wrong in not accepting the fact of your father's death as proved, and taking you home to england; but you will believe that i acted for the best, and i shrank from the thought of going home as a beggar, while i could maintain you and myself comfortably, here." "you were quite right, mother dear. we have been very happy, and i have been looking forward to the time when i might work for you, as you have worked for me. it has been a thousand times better, so, than living on the charity of a man who looked down upon you, and who cast off my father." "well, you will believe at least that i acted for the best, dear, and i am not sure that it has not been for the best. at any rate i, too, have been far happier than i could have been, if living in england on an allowance begrudged to me." a week later, gregory was awakened by the cries of the negro servant; and, running to mrs. hilliard's bedroom, found that his mother had passed away during the night. burial speedily follows death in egypt; and on the following day gregory returned, heartbroken, to his lonely house, after seeing her laid in her grave. for a week, he did nothing but wander about the house, listlessly. then, with a great effort, he roused himself. he had his work before him--had his mother's wishes to carry out. his first step was to go to the bank, and ask to see the manager. "you may have heard of my mother's death, mr. murray?" he said. "yes, my lad, and sorry, indeed, i was to hear of it. she was greatly liked and respected, by all who knew her." "she told me," gregory went on, trying to steady his voice, "a week before her death, that she had money here deposited in my name." "that is so." "is there anything to be done about it, sir?" "not unless you wish to draw it out. she told me, some time ago, why she placed it in your name; and i told her that there would be no difficulty." "i do not want to draw any of it out, sir, as there were fifty pounds in the house. she was aware that she had not long to live, and no doubt kept it by her, on purpose." "then all you have to do is to write your signature on this piece of paper. i will hand you a cheque book, and you will only have to fill up a cheque and sign it, and draw out any amount you please." "i have never seen a cheque book, sir. will you kindly tell me what i should have to do?" mr. murray took out a cheque book, and explained its use. then he asked what gregory thought of doing. "i wish to go up with the nile expedition, sir. it was my mother's wish, also, that i should do so. my main object is to endeavour to obtain particulars of my father's death, and to assure myself that he was one of those who fell at el obeid. i do not care in what capacity i go up; but as i speak arabic and soudanese, as well as english, my mother thought that i might get employment as interpreter, either under an officer engaged on making the railway, or in some capacity under an officer in one of the egyptian regiments." "i have no doubt that i can help you there, lad. i know the sirdar, and a good many of the british officers, for whom i act as agent. of course, i don't know in what capacity they could employ you, but surely some post or other could be found for you, where your knowledge of the language would render you very useful. naturally, the officers in the egyptian service all understand enough of the language to get on with, but few of the officers in the british regiments do. "it is fortunate that you came today. i have an appointment with lord cromer tomorrow morning, so i will take the opportunity of speaking to him. as it is an army affair, and as your father was in the egyptian service, and your mother had a pension from it, i may get him to interest himself in the matter. kitchener is down here at present, and if cromer would speak to him, i should think you would certainly be able to get up, though i cannot say in what position. the fact that you are familiar with the negro language, which differs very widely from that of the arab soudan tribes, who all speak arabic, is strongly in your favour; and may give you an advantage over applicants who can only speak arabic. "i shall see lord cromer at ten, and shall probably be with him for an hour. you may as well be outside his house, at half-past ten; possibly he may like to see you. at any rate, when i come down, i can tell you what he says." with grateful thanks, gregory returned home. chapter : an appointment. soon after ten, next morning, gregory took up his place near the entrance to lord cromer's house. it was just eleven when mr. murray came down. "come in with me," he said. "lord cromer will see you. he acknowledged at once, when i told him your story, that you had a strong claim for employment. the only point was as to your age. i told him that you were past sixteen, and a strong, active fellow, and that you had had a good physical training." they had now entered the house. "don't be nervous, hilliard; just talk to him as you would to me. many a good man has lost an appointment, from being nervous and embarrassed when he applied for it." "you want to go up to the soudan?" lord cromer said. "mr. murray has told me your reasons for wanting to go. though i fear it is hardly likely that any new light can be thrown upon the fate of hicks pasha, and his officers, i feel that it is a natural desire on your part." "it was my mother's last wish, sir, and she took particular pains in my training, and education, to fit me for the work." "you speak arabic, and the tongue of the negro blacks, almost as well as english?" "yes, sir. arabic quite as well, and the other nearly as well, i think." "what sort of post did you hope to get, mr. hilliard?" "any post for which i may be thought fit, sir. i do not care at all about pay. my mother saved sufficient to keep me for two or three years. i would rather enlist than not go up at all, though i fear i am too young to be accepted; but i am quite ready to turn my hand to anything." "if it concerned the egyptian government, or a civil appointment, i would certainly exert my influence in your favour; but this expedition is in the hands of the military. however, if you will take a seat in the anteroom, and do not mind waiting there for an hour or two, i will see what can be done." "thank you very much indeed, sir." mr. murray, as they went out together, said: "i think that you have made a good impression. he told me, before, that it was a matter for sir herbert kitchener, and that he was expecting him in a quarter of an hour. come and tell me the result, when you leave." ten minutes later, a tall man, whom gregory recognized at once as sir herbert kitchener, whose figure was well known in cairo, passed through the room; all who were sitting there rising to their feet, as he did so. he acknowledged the salute mechanically, as if scarcely conscious of it. an hour later a bell was rung, and an attendant went into the room. he returned directly. "mr. hilliard," he said. gregory rose, and passed through the door held open. kitchener was sitting at the table with lord cromer. his keen glance seemed, to gregory, to take him in from head to foot, and then to look at something far beyond him. "this is mr. hilliard," lord cromer said, "the young gentleman i have spoken of." "you want to go up?" the general said shortly, in arabic. "yes, sir." "you do not mind in what capacity you go?" "no, sir; i am ready to do anything." "to work on the railway, or in the transport?" "yes, sir. though i would rather not be on the railway, for the railway cannot get on as fast as the troops; but i would enlist in one of the english regiments, if they would take me." "and you speak the language of the nubian blacks?" the question was put in that language. "yes; i do not think i speak it quite as well as arabic, but i speak it fairly." "do you think that you could stand the fatigue?--no child's play, you know." "i can only say that i hope i can, sir. i have been accustomed to take long walks, and spend an hour a day in gymnastic exercises, and i have had lessons in fencing." "can you use a pistol?" "yes, fairly; i have practised a good deal with it." "you are most fitted for an interpreter," the general said, speaking this time in english. "now the north staffordshire have come down, there are no british regiments up there, and of course the british officers in the egyptian army all speak arabic, to some extent. however, i will send you up to dongola. either general hunter, or colonel wingate, of the intelligence department, may be able to find some use for you; and when the british troops go up, you can be attached to one of their regiments as their interpreter. you will have temporary rank of lieutenant, with, of course, the pay of that rank. "captain ewart came with me, lord cromer. i left him in the anteroom. if you will allow me, i will call him in. "captain ewart," he said, as that officer entered, "mr. hilliard here has just received the temporary rank of lieutenant, in the egyptian army, and is going up to join general hunter, at dongola. you are starting in three days, are you not? "i shall be glad if you will take him under your wing, as far as you go. he speaks the languages, negro as well as arabic. you can tell him what kit he had better take, and generally mother him. "that is all, mr. hilliard. call at my quarters, the day after tomorrow, for the letters for general hunter and colonel wingate." "i thank you most deeply, sir," gregory began, but the sirdar gave a little impatient wave with his hand. "thank you most deeply also, lord cromer!" gregory said with a bow, and then left the room. captain ewart remained there for another ten minutes. when he came out, he nodded to gregory. "will you come with me?" he said. "i am going to the bank. i shall not be there many minutes, and we can then have a talk together." "thank you, sir! i am going to the bank too. it was mr. murray who first spoke to lord cromer about me." "you could not have had a better introduction. well, you won't have very long to get ready for the start--that is, if you have not begun to prepare for it. however, there is no rush at present, therefore i have no doubt you will be able to get your khaki uniforms in time. as for other things, there will be no difficulty about them." "you have been up at the front before, sir?" "yes, my work is on the railway. i had a touch of fever, and got leave to come down and recruit, before the hot weather came in. i dare say you think it hot here, sometimes, but this is an ice house in comparison with the desert." they talked until they arrived at the bank. "you may as well go in first, and see murray. i suppose you won't be above two or three minutes. i shall be longer, perhaps a quarter of an hour; so if you wait for me, we will go to shepherd's, and talk your business over in some sort of comfort." "i am pleased, indeed," mr. murray said, when gregory told him of his appointment. "it is better than i even hoped. it is bad enough there, in the position of an officer, but it would be infinitely worse in any other capacity. do you want to draw any money?" "no, sir; i have fifty pounds by me, and that will be enough, i should think, for everything." "more than ample. of course, you have plenty of light underclothing of all sorts, and a couple of suits of khaki will not cost you anything like so much as they would, if you got them at a military tailor's in london. however, if you want more, you will be able to draw it." "thank you very much, sir! i will not detain you any longer, now; but will, if you will allow me, come in to say goodbye before i start. captain ewart is waiting to speak to you. he came with me from lord cromer's." captain ewart then went in, and after settling the business on which he had come, asked mr. murray questions about gregory, and received a sketch of his story. "he seems to be a fine young fellow," he said, "well grown and active, not at all what one would expect from a product of cairo." "no, indeed. of course, you have not seen him to advantage, in that black suit, but in his ordinary clothes i should certainly take him, if i had not seen him before, to be a young lieutenant freshly come out to join." "did you know the father?" "no, i was not here at that time; but the mother was a lady, every inch. it is strange that neither of them should have friends in england. it may be that she preferred to earn her living here, and be altogether independent." "she had a pension, hadn't she?" "a small one, but she really earned her living by teaching. she gave lessons to the ladies in english, french, and music, and had classes for young boys and girls. i once asked her if she did not intend to go back and settle in england, and she said 'possibly, some day.' "i fancy that there must have been some mystery about the affair--what, i can't say; but at any rate, we may take it that such a woman would not have married a man who was not a gentleman." "certainly the boy looks a well-bred one," captain ewart said, "and i am sure that the sirdar must have been taken with him. you don't know any more about his father than you have told me?" "very little. once, in talking with his wife, she told me that her husband had been in a commercial house, in alexandria, for a year; but the place was burned down at the time of the bombardment. being thus out of harness, he became an assistant to one of the army contractors and, when things settled down at cairo, obtained a berth as interpreter, with the temporary rank of captain, on hicks pasha's staff, as he also spoke arabic fluently. i can tell you no more about him than that, as i never saw him; though no doubt he came here with his wife, when her account was opened. "i was interested in her. i looked up the old books, and found that two hundred pounds was paid into her account, before he left. i may say that she steadily increased that amount, ever since; but a few years ago she had the sum then standing transferred to the boy's name, telling me frankly, at the time, that she did so to save trouble, in case anything happened to her. i fancy, from what she said, that for the last year or two she had been going downhill. i had a chat with her, the last time she came in. she told me that she had been consumptive, and that it was for the sake of her health they came out here." "that accounts for it, murray. by the date, they were probably only married a year or so before they came out; and a man who loved a young wife, and saw no other way of saving her, would throw up any berth at home, in order to give her the benefit of a warm climate. still, it is a little curious that, if he had only been out here a year or so before hicks started, he should have learned arabic sufficiently well to get a post as interpreter. i have been in the country about three years, and can get on fairly well with the natives, in matters concerning my own work; but i certainly could not act as general interpreter. "well, i am glad to have heard this, for you know the sort of men interpreters generally are. from the lad's appearance and manner, there is no shadow of doubt that his mother was a lady. i thought it more than probable that she had married beneath her, and that her husband was of the ordinary interpreter class. now, from what you have said, i see that it is probable he came of a much better family. well, you may be sure that i shall do what i can for the lad." gregory joined him, as he left the bank. "i think, hilliard, we had best go to the tailor, first. his shop is not far from here. as you want to get your things in three days, it is as well to have that matter settled, at once." the two suits, each consisting of khaki tunic, breeches, and putties, were ordered. "you had better have breeches," he said. "it is likely you will have to ride, and knickerbockers look baggy." this done, they went to shepherd's hotel. "sit down in the verandah," captain ewart said, "until i get rid of my regimentals. even a khaki tunic is not an admirable garment, when one wants to be cool and comfortable." in a few minutes he came down again, in a light tweed suit; and, seating himself in another lounging chair, two cooling drinks were brought in; then he said: "now we will talk about your outfit, and what you had best take up. of course, you have got light underclothing, so you need not bother about that. you want ankle boots--and high ones--to keep out the sand. you had better take a couple of pairs of slippers, they are of immense comfort at the end of the day; also a light cap, to slip on when you are going from one tent to another, after dark. a helmet is a good thing in many ways, but it is cumbrous; and if there are four or five men in a tent, and they all take off their helmets, it is difficult to know where to stow them away. "most likely you will get a tent at dongola, but you can't always reckon upon that, and you may find it very useful to have a light tente d'abri made. it should have a fly, which is useful in two ways. in the first place, it adds to the height and so enlarges the space inside; and in the next place, you can tie it up in the daytime, and allow whatever air there is to pass through. then, with a blanket thrown over the top, you will find it cooler than a regimental tent. "of course, you will want a sword and a revolver, with a case and belt. get the regulation size, and a hundred rounds of cartridges; you are not likely ever to use a quarter of that number, but they will come in for practice. "now, as to food. of course you get beef, biscuit, or bread, and there is a certain amount of tea, but nothing like enough for a thirsty climate, especially when--which is sometimes the case--the water is so bad that it is not safe to drink, unless it has been boiled; so you had better take up four or five pounds of tea." "i don't take sugar, sir." "all the better. there is no better drink than tea, poured out and left to cool, and drunk without sugar. you might take a dozen tins of preserved milk, as many of condensed cocoa and milk, and a couple of dozen pots of jam. of course, you could not take all these things on if you were likely to move, but you may be at dongola some time, before there is another advance, and you may as well make yourself as comfortable as you can; and if, as is probable, you cannot take the pots up with you, you can hand them over to those who are left behind. you will have no trouble in getting a fair-sized case taken up, as there will be water carriage nearly all the way. "a good many fellows have aerated waters sent up, but hot soda water is by no means a desirable drink--not to be compared with tea kept in porous jars; so i should not advise you to bother about it. you will want a water bottle. get the largest you can find. it is astonishing how much water a fellow can get down, in a long day's march. "oh! as to your boots, get the uppers as light as you can--the lighter the better; but you must have strong soles--there are rocks in some places, and they cut the soles to pieces, in no time. the sand is bad enough. your foot sinks in it, and it seems to have a sort of sucking action, and very often takes the sole right off in a very short time. "i suppose you smoke?" "cigarettes, sir." "i should advise you to get a pipe, in addition, or rather two or three of them. if they get broken, or lost in the sand, there is no replacing them; and if you don't take to them, yourself, you will find them the most welcome present you can give, to a man who has lost his. "i should advise you to get a lens. you don't want a valuable one, but the larger the better, and the cheapest that you can buy; it will be quite as good as the best, to use as a burning glass. matches are precious things out there and, with a burning glass, you will only have to draw upon your stock in the evening. "now, do you ride? because all the white officers with the egyptian troops do so." "i am sorry to say that i don't, sir. i have ridden donkeys, but anyone can sit upon a donkey." "yes; that won't help you much. then i should advise you to use all the time that you can spare, after ordering your outfit, in riding. no doubt you could hire a horse." "yes; there is no difficulty about that." "well, if you will hire one, and come round here at six o'clock tomorrow morning, i will ride out for a couple of hours with you, and give you your first lesson. i can borrow a horse from one of the staff. if you once get to sit your horse, in a workman-like fashion, and to carry yourself well, you will soon pick up the rest; and if you go out, morning and evening, for three hours each time, you won't be quite abroad, when you start to keep up with a column of men on foot. "as to a horse, it would be hardly worth your while to bother about taking one with you. you will be able to pick one up at dongola. i hear that fugitives are constantly coming in there, and some of them are sure to be mounted. however, you had better take up a saddle and bridle with you. you might as well get an egyptian one; in the first place because it is a good deal cheaper, and in the second because our english saddles are made for bigger horses. you need not mind much about the appearance of your animal. anything will do for riding about at dongola, and learning to keep your seat. in the first fight you have with dervish horsemen, there are sure to be some riderless horses, and you may then get a good one, for a pound or two, from some tommy who has captured one." "i am sure i am immensely obliged to you, captain ewart. that will indeed be an advantage to me." on leaving the hotel gregory at once made all his purchases, so as to get them off his mind; and then arranged for the horse in the morning. then he went home, and told the old servant the change that had taken place in his position. "and now, what about yourself, what would you like to do?" "i am too old to go up with you, and cook for you." "yes, indeed," he laughed; "we shall be doing long marches. but it is not your age, so much. as an officer, it would be impossible for me to have a female servant. besides, you want quiet and rest. i have been round to the landlord, to tell him that i am going away, and to pay him a month's rent, instead of notice. i should think the best way would be for you to take a large room for yourself, or two rooms not so large--one of them for you to live in, and the other to store everything there is here. i know that you will look after them, and keep them well. of course, you will pick out all the things that you can use in your room. it will be very lonely for you, living all by yourself, but you know numbers of people here; and you might engage a girl to stay with you, for some small wages and her food. now, you must think over what your food and hers will cost, and the rent. of course, i want you to live comfortably; you have always been a friend rather than a servant, and my mother had the greatest trust in you." "you are very good, master gregory. while you have been away, today, i have been thinking over what i should do, when you went away. i have a friend who comes in, once a week, with fruit and vegetables. last year, you know, i went out with her and stayed a day. she has two boys who work in the garden, and a girl. she came in today, and i said to her: "'my young master is going away to the soudan. what do you say to my coming and living with you, when he has gone? i can cook, and do all about the house, and help a little in the garden; and i have saved enough money to pay for my share of food.' "she said, 'i should like that, very well. you could help the boys, in the field.' "so we agreed that, if you were willing, i should go. i thought of the furniture; but if you do not come back here to live, it would be no use to keep the chairs, and tables, and beds, and things. we can put all missy's things, and everything you like to keep, into a great box, and i could take them with me; or you could have them placed with some honest man, who would only charge very little, for storage." "well, i do think that would be a good plan, if you like these people. it would be far better than living by yourself. however, of course i shall pay for your board, and i shall leave money with you; so that, if you are not comfortable there, you can do as i said, take a room here. "i think you are right about the furniture. how would you sell it?" "there are plenty of greek shops. they would buy it all. they would not give as much as you gave for it. most of them are great rascals." "we cannot help that," he said. "i should have to sell them when i come back and, at any rate, we save the rent for housing them. they are not worth much. you may take anything you like, a comfortable chair and a bed, some cooking things, and so on, and sell the rest for anything you can get, after i have gone. i will pack my dear mother's things, this evening." for the next two days, gregory almost lived on horseback; arranging, with the man from whom he hired the animals, that he should change them three times a day. he laid aside his black clothes, and took to a white flannel suit, with a black ribbon round his straw hat; as deep mourning would be terribly hot, and altogether unsuited for riding. "you will do, lad," captain ewart said to him, after giving him his first lesson. "your fencing has done much for you, and has given you an easy poise of body and head. always remember that it is upon balancing the body that you should depend for your seat; although, of course, the grip of the knees does a good deal. also remember, always, to keep your feet straight; nothing is so awkward as turned-out toes. besides, in that position, if the horse starts you are very likely to dig your spurs into him. "hold the reins firmly, but don't pull at his head. give him enough scope to toss his head if he wants to, but be in readiness to tighten the reins in an instant, if necessary." each day, gregory returned home so stiff, and tired, that he could scarcely crawl along. still, he felt that he had made a good deal of progress; and that, when he got up to dongola, he would be able to mount and ride out without exciting derision. on the morning of the day on which he was to start, he went to say goodbye to mr. murray. "have you everything ready, hilliard?" the banker asked. "yes, sir. the uniform and the tent are both ready. i have a cork bed, and waterproof sheet to lay under it; and, i think, everything that i can possibly require. i am to meet captain ewart at the railway, this afternoon at five o'clock. the train starts at half past. "i will draw another twenty-five pounds, sir. i have not spent more than half what i had, but i must leave some money with our old servant. i shall have to buy a horse, too, when i get up to dongola, and i may have other expenses, that i cannot foresee." "i think that is a wise plan," the banker said. "it is always well to have money with you, for no one can say what may happen. your horse may get shot or founder, and you may have to buy another. well, i wish you every luck, lad, and a safe return." "thank you very much, mr. murray! all this good fortune has come to me, entirely through your kindness. i cannot say how grateful i feel to you." chapter : southward. at the hour named, gregory met captain ewart at the station. he was now dressed in uniform, and carried a revolver in his waist belt, and a sword in its case. his luggage was not extensive. he had one large bundle; it contained a roll-up cork bed, in a waterproof casing. at one end was a loose bag; which contained a spare suit of clothes, three flannel shirts, and his underclothing. this formed the pillow. a blanket and a waterproof sheet were rolled up with it. in a small sack was the tente d'abri, made of waterproof sheeting, with its two little poles. it only weighed some fifteen pounds. his only other luggage consisted of a large case, with six bottles of brandy, and the provisions he had been recommended to take. "is that all your kit?" captain ewart said, as he joined him. "yes, sir. i hope you don't think it is too much." "no; i think it is very moderate, though if you move forward, you will not be able to take the case with you, the others are light enough, and you can always get a native boy to carry them. of course, you have your pass?" "yes, sir. i received it yesterday, when i went to headquarters for the letter to general hunter." "then we may as well take our places, at once. we have nearly an hour before the train starts; but it is worth waiting, in order to get two seats next the window, on the river side. we need not sit there till the train starts, if we put our traps in to keep our places. i know four or five other officers coming up, so we will spread our things about, and keep the whole carriage to ourselves, if we can." in an hour, the train started. every place was occupied. ewart had spoken to his friends, as they arrived, and they had all taken places in the same compartment. the journey lasted forty hours, and gregory admitted that the description captain ewart had given him, of the dust, was by no means exaggerated. he had brought, as had been suggested, a water skin and a porous earthenware bottle; together with a roll of cotton-wool to serve as a stopper to the latter, to keep out the dust. in a tightly fitting handbag he had an ample supply of food for three days. along the opening of this he had pasted a strip of paper. "that will do very well for your first meal, hilliard, but it will be of no good afterwards." "i have prepared for that," gregory said. "i have bought a gum bottle, and as i have a newspaper in my pocket, i can seal it up after each meal." "by jove, that is a good idea, one i never thought of!" "the gum will be quite sufficient for us all, up to assouan. i have two more bottles in my box. that should be sufficient to last me for a long time, when i am in the desert; and as it won't take half a minute to put a fresh paper on, after each meal, i shall have the satisfaction of eating my food without its being mixed with the dust." there was a general chorus of approval, and all declared that they would search every shop in assouan, and endeavour to find gum. "paste will do as well," ewart said, "and as we can always get flour, we shall be able to defy the dust fiend as far as our food goes. "i certainly did not expect that old campaigners would learn a lesson from you, hilliard, as soon as you started." "it was just an idea that occurred to me," gregory said. the gum bottle was handed round, and although nothing could be done for those who had brought their provisions in hampers, three of them who had, like gregory, put their food in bags, were able to seal them up tightly. it was now may, and the heat was becoming intolerable, especially as the windows were closed to keep out the dust. in spite of this, however, it found its way in. it settled everywhere. clothes and hair became white with it. it worked its way down the neck, where the perspiration changed it into mud. it covered the face, as if with a cake of flour. at first gregory attempted to brush it off his clothes, as it settled upon them, but he soon found that there was no advantage in this. so he sat quietly in his corner and, like the rest, looked like a dirty white statue. there were occasional stops, when they all got out, shook themselves, and took a few mouthfuls of fresh air. gregory's plan, for keeping out the dust from the food, turned out a great success; and the meals were eaten in the open air, during the stoppages. on arriving at assouan, they all went to the transport department, to get their passes for the journey up the nile, as far as wady halfa. the next step was to go down to the river for a swim and, by dint of shaking and beating, to get rid of the accumulated dust. assouan was not a pleasant place to linger in and, as soon as they had completed their purchases, captain ewart and gregory climbed on to the loaded railway train, and were carried by the short line to the spot where, above the cataract, the steamer that was to carry them was lying. she was to tow up a large barge, and two native craft. they took their places in the steamer, with a number of other officers--some newcomers from england, others men who had been down to cairo, to recruit. they belonged to all branches of the service, and included half a dozen of the medical staff, three of the transport corps, gunners, engineers, cavalry, and infantry. the barges were deep in the water, with their cargoes of stores of all kinds, and rails and sleepers for the railway, and the steamer was also deeply loaded. the passage was a delightful one, to gregory. everything was new to him. the cheery talk and jokes of the officers, the graver discussion of the work before them, the calculations as to time and distance, the stories told of what had taken place during the previous campaign, by those who shared in it, were all so different from anything he had ever before experienced, that the hours passed almost unnoticed. it was glorious to think that, in whatever humble capacity, he was yet one of the band who were on their way up to meet the hordes of the khalifa, to rescue the soudan from the tyranny under which it had groaned, to avenge gordon and hicks and the gallant men who had died with them! occasionally, captain ewart came up and talked to him, but he was well content to sit on one of the bales, and listen to the conversation without joining in it. in another couple of years he, too, would have had his experiences, and would be able to take his part. at present, he preferred to be a listener. the distance to wady halfa was some three hundred miles; but the current was strong, and the steamer could not tow the boats more than five miles an hour, against it. it was sixty hours, from the start, before they arrived. gregory was astonished at the stir and life in the place. great numbers of native labourers were at work, unloading barges and native craft; and a line of railway ran down to the wharves, where the work of loading the trucks went on briskly. smoke pouring out from many chimneys, and the clang of hammers, told that the railway engineering work was in full swing. vast piles of boxes, cases, and bales were accumulated on the wharf, and showed that there would be no loss of time in pushing forward supplies to abu hamed, as soon as the railway was completed to that point. wady halfa had been the starting point of a railway, commenced years before. a few miles have been constructed, and several buildings erected for the functionaries, military and civil; but gordon, when governor of the soudan, had refused to allow the province to be saddled with the expenses of the construction, or to undertake the responsibility of carrying it out. in there was some renewal of work and, had gordon been rescued, and khartoum permanently occupied, the line would no doubt have been carried on; but with the retirement of the british troops, work ceased, and the great stores of material that had been gathered there remained, for years, half covered with the sand. in any other climate this would have been destructive, but in the dry air of upper egypt they remained almost uninjured, and proved very useful, when the work was again taken up. it was a wonderful undertaking, for along the two hundred and thirty-four miles of desert, food, water, and every necessary had to be carried, together with all materials for its construction. not only had an army of workmen to be fed, but a body of troops to guard them; for abu hamed, at the other end of the line, for which they were making, was occupied by a large body of dervishes; who might, at any moment, swoop down across the plain. had the sirdar had the resources of england at his back, the work would have been easier, for he could have ordered from home new engines, and plant of every description; but it was an egyptian work, and had to be done in the cheapest possible way. old engines had to be patched up, and makeshifts of all kinds employed. fortunately he had, in the chief engineer of the line, a man whose energy, determination, and resource were equal to his own. major girouard was a young officer of the royal engineers and, like all white officers in the egyptian service, held the rank of major. he was a canadian by birth, and proved, in every respect, equal to the onerous and responsible work to which he was appointed. however, labour was cheap, and railway battalions were raised among the egyptian peasants, their pay being the same as that of the soldiers. strong, hearty, and accustomed to labour and a scanty diet, no men could have been more fitted for the work. they preferred it to soldiering; for although, as they had already shown, and were still further to prove, the egyptian can fight, and fight bravely; he is, by nature, peaceable, and prefers work, however hard. in addition to these battalions, natives of the country and of the soudan, fugitives from ruined villages and desolated plains, were largely employed. the line had now been carried three-quarters of the distance to abu hamed, which was still in the hands of the dervishes. it had been constructed with extraordinary rapidity, for the ground was so level that only occasional cuttings were needed. the organization of labour was perfect. the men were divided into gangs, each under a head man, and each having its own special work to do. there were the men who unloaded the trucks, the labourers who did the earth work, and the more skilled hands who levelled it. as fast as the trucks were emptied, gangs of men carried the sleepers forward, and laid them down roughly in position; others followed, and corrected the distance between each. the rails were then brought along and laid down, with the fish plates, in the proper places; men put these on, and boys screwed up the nuts. then plate layers followed and lined the rails accurately; and, when this was done, sand was thrown in and packed down between the sleepers. by this division of labour, the line was pushed on from one to two miles a day, the camp moving forward with the line. six tank trucks brought up the water for the use of the labourers, daily, and everything worked with as much regularity as in a great factory at home. troops of friendly tribesmen, in our pay, scoured the country and watched the wells along the road, farther to the east, so as to prevent any bands of dervishes from dashing suddenly down upon the workers. at wady halfa, captain ewart and two or three other officers left the steamer, to proceed up the line. gregory was very sorry to lose him. "i cannot tell you, captain ewart," he said, "how deeply grateful i feel to you, for the immense kindness you have shown me. i don't know what i should have done, had i been left without your advice and assistance in getting my outfit, and making my arrangements to come up here." "my dear lad," the latter said, "don't say anything more. in any case, i should naturally be glad to do what i could, for the son of a man who died fighting in the same cause as we are now engaged in. but in your case it has been a pleasure, for i am sure you will do credit to yourself, and to the mother who has taken such pains in preparing you for the work you are going to do, and in fitting you for the position that you now occupy." as the officers who had come up with them in the train from cairo were all going on, and had been told by ewart something of gregory's story, they had aided that officer in making gregory feel at home in his new circumstances; and in the two days they had been on board the boat, he had made the acquaintance of several others. the river railway had now been carried from wady halfa to kerma, above the third cataract. the heavy stores were towed up by steamers and native craft. most of the engines and trucks had been transferred to the desert line; but a few were still retained, to carry up troops if necessary, and aid the craft in accumulating stores. one of these trains started a few hours after the arrival of the steamer at wady halfa. gregory, with the officers going up, occupied two horse boxes. several of them had been engaged in the last campaign, and pointed out the places of interest. at sarras, some thirty miles up the road, there had been a fight on the th of april, ; when the dervish host, advancing strong in the belief that they could carry all before them down to the sea, were defeated by the egyptian force under the sirdar and general chermside. the next stop of the train was at akasheh. this had been a very important station, before the last advance, as all the stores had been accumulated here when the army advanced. here had been a strongly entrenched camp, for the dervishes were in force, fifteen miles away, at ferket. "it was a busy time we had here," said one of the officers, who had taken a part in the expedition. "a fortnight before, we had no idea that an early move was contemplated; and indeed, it was only on the th of march that the excitement began. that day, kitchener received a telegram ordering an immediate advance on dongola. we had expected it would take place soon; but there is no doubt that the sudden order was the result of an arrangement, on the part of our government with italy, that we should relieve her from the pressure of the dervishes round kassala by effecting a diversion, and obliging the enemy to send a large force down to dongola to resist our advance. "it was a busy time. the sirdar came up to wady halfa, and the egyptian troops were divided between that place, sarras, and akasheh. the th soudanese were marched up from suakim, and they did the distance to the nile (one hundred and twenty miles) in four days. that was something like marching. "well, you saw wady halfa. for a month, this place was quite as busy. now, its glories are gone. two or three huts for the railway men, and the shelters for a company of egyptians, represent the whole camp." as they neared ferket the officer said: "there was a sharp fight out there on the desert. a large body of dervishes advanced, from ferket. they were seen to leave by a cavalry patrol. as soon as the patrol reached camp, all the available horse, two hundred and forty in number, started under major murdoch. four miles out, they came in sight of three hundred mounted dervishes, with a thousand spearmen on foot. "the ground was rough, and unfavourable for a cavalry charge; so the cavalry retired to a valley, between two hills, in order to get better ground. while they were doing so, however, the dervishes charged down upon them. murdoch rode at them at once, and there was a hand-to-hand fight that lasted for twenty minutes. then the enemy turned, and galloped off to the shelter of the spearmen. the troopers dismounted and opened fire; and, on a regiment of soudanese coming up, the enemy drew off. "eighteen of the dervishes were killed, and eighty wounded. our loss was very slight; but the fight was a most satisfactory one, for it showed that the egyptian cavalry had, now, sufficient confidence in themselves to face the baggara. "headquarters came up to akasheh on the st of june. the spies had kept the intelligence department well informed as to the state of things at ferket. it was known that three thousand troops were there, led by fifty-seven emirs. the ground was carefully reconnoitred, and all preparation made for an attack. it was certain that the dervishes also had spies, among the camel drivers and camp followers, but the sirdar kept his intentions secret, and on the evening of june th it was not known to any, save three or four of the principal officers, that he intended to attack on the following morning. it was because he was anxious to effect a complete surprise that he did not even bring up the north staffordshires. "there were two roads to ferket--one by the river, the other through the desert. the river column was the strongest, and consisted of an infantry division, with two field batteries and two maxims. the total strength of the desert column, consisting of the cavalry brigade, camel corps, a regiment of infantry, a battery of horse artillery, and two maxims--in all, two thousand one hundred men--were to make a detour, and come down upon the nile to the south of ferket, thereby cutting off the retreat of the enemy. "carrying two days' rations, the troops started late in the afternoon of the th, and halted at nine in the evening, three miles from ferket. at half-past two they moved forward again, marching quietly and silently; and, at half-past four, deployed into line close to the enemy's position. a few minutes later the alarm was given; and the dervishes, leaping to arms, discovered this formidable force in front of them; and at the same time found that their retreat was cut off, by another large body of troops in their rear; while, on the opposite bank of the river, was a force of our arab allies. "though they must have seen that their position was hopeless, the dervishes showed no signs of fear. they fought with the desperation of rats in a trap. the egyptians advanced with steady volleys. the baggara horsemen attacked them furiously, but were repulsed with heavy loss. there was hand-to-hand fighting among their huts; and the second brigade carried, with the bayonet, that rough hill that you see over there. "it was all over, by seven o'clock. our loss was only twenty killed, and eighty wounded. about one thousand of the dervishes were killed, including their chief emir and some forty of the others, while five hundred were taken prisoners. it was a great victory, and a very important one; but it can hardly be said that it was glorious, as we outnumbered them by three to one. still, it was a heavy blow to the dervishes, and the fact that the khalifa was obliged to send troops down to the nile, to check an advance that had proved so formidable, must have greatly relieved the pressure on the italians at kassala. "there was a pause, here. it was certain that we should have to meet a much stronger force before we got to dongola. well as the egyptian troops had fought, it was thought advisable to give them a stronger backing. "the heat was now tremendous, and cholera had broken out. we moved to koshyeh, and there encamped. the only change we had was a terrific storm, which almost washed us away. in the middle of august, we managed to get the gunboats up through the cataract, and were in hopes of advancing, when another storm carried away twenty miles of the railway, which by this time had come up as far as the cataract." at ginnis, twenty miles from ferket, they passed the ground where, on the st of december, , on the retirement of general wolseley's expedition, generals grenfel and stevenson, with a force of egyptian troops and three british regiments, encountered the dervish army which the khalifa had despatched under the emir nejumi, and defeated it. it was notable as being the first battle in which the newly raised egyptian army met the mahdists, and showed that, trained and disciplined by british officers, the egyptian fellah was capable of standing against the dervish of the desert. from this point the railway left the nile and, for thirty miles, crossed the desert. another twenty miles, and they reached fareeg. "it was here," the officer said, "that the north staffordshires came up and joined the egyptians. the dervishes had fallen back before we advanced, after a halt at sadeah, which we sha'n't see, as the railway cuts across, to abu fetmeh. we bivouacked five miles from their camp, and turned out at three next morning. the orders were passed by mouth, and we got off as silently as an army of ghosts. "i shall never forget our disgust when a small cavalry force, sent on ahead to reconnoitre, reported that the dervishes had abandoned the place during the night, and had crossed the river in native boats. it was a very clever move, at any rate, on the part of fellows who did not want to fight. there were we facing them, with our whole infantry and cavalry useless, and we had nothing available to damage the enemy except our artillery and the gunboats. "these opened fire, and the dervishes replied heavily. they had earthworks, but the boats kept on, pluckily, till they got to a narrow point in the stream; when a couple of guns, which had hitherto been hidden, opened upon them at close range; while a strong force of dervish infantry poured in such a hot fire that the boats had to fall back. "after our field guns had peppered the enemy for a bit, the gunboats tried again, but the fire was too hot for them, and the leading boat had to retire. "things did not look very bright, till nine o'clock; when we found that, at one point, the river was fordable to a small island, opposite the enemy's lines. four batteries, and the maxims, at once moved over, with two companies of soudanese, and opened fire. the distance across was but six hundred yards, and the fire was tremendous--shell, shrapnel, and rockets--while the soudanese fired volleys, and the maxims maintained a shower of bullets. "it seemed that nothing could stand against it, but the dervishes stuck to their guns with great pluck. however, their fire was so far kept down, that the three gunboats succeeded in forcing their way up; and, passing the dervish works, sank a steamer and a number of native boats. "the dervishes now began to give way, and the gunboats steamed up the river, making for dongola. the dervishes, as soon as they had gone, reopened fire, and the duel continued all day; but the great mass of the enemy soon left, and also made their way towards dongola. "it was awfully annoying being obliged to remain inactive, on our side, and it was especially hard for the cavalry; who, if they could have got over, would have been able to cut up and disperse the enemy. "the next morning the dervishes were all gone, and that was practically the end of the fighting. the gunboats went up and shelled dongola; and when we got there, two days later, the dervishes had had enough of it. of course, there was a little fighting, but it was the effort of a party of fanatics, rather than of an enemy who considered resistance possible. "we were greeted with enthusiasm by the unfortunate inhabitants, who had been subject to the dervish tyranny. as a whole, however, they had not been badly treated here, and had been allowed to continue to cultivate their land, subject only to about the same taxation as they had paid to egypt. of course, from what they have done elsewhere, the comparative mildness of the conduct of the dervishes was not due to any feeling of mercy, but to policy. as the most advanced position, with the exception of scattered and temporary posts lower down the river, it was necessary that there should be food for the considerable body of tribesmen encamped at dongola; especially as an army invading egypt would provide itself, there, with stores for the journey. it was therefore good policy to encourage the cultivators of land to stay there." "thank you very much!" gregory said, when the officer had concluded his sketch of the previous campaign. "of course, i heard that we had beaten the khalifa's men, and had taken dongola, but the papers at cairo gave no details. the staffordshire regiment went down, directly the place was taken, did they not?" "yes. they had suffered heavily from cholera; and as there was now no fear that the egyptians and soudanese would prove unequal to withstanding a dervish rush, there was no necessity for keeping them here." at abu fetmeh they left the train, and embarked in a steamer. of the party that had left assouan, only four or five remained. the rest had been dropped at other stations on the road. the boat stopped but a few hours at dongola, which had for a time been the headquarters of the advanced force. great changes had been made, since the place was captured from the dervishes. at that time the population had been reduced to a handful, and the natives who remained tilled but enough ground for their own necessities; for they knew that, at any time, a dervish force might come along and sweep everything clear. but with the advent of the british, the fugitives who had scattered among the villages along the river soon poured in. numbers of greek traders arrived, with camels and goods, and the town assumed an aspect of life and business. the general established a court of justice, and appointed authorities for the proper regulation of affairs; and by the time gregory came up, the town was showing signs of renewed prosperity. but the steamer stopped at dongola only to land stores needed for the regiment stationed there. the headquarters had, months before, been moved to merawi, some eighty miles higher up, situated at the foot of the fourth cataract. although he had enjoyed the journey, gregory was glad when the steamer drew up against a newly constructed wharf at merawi. now he was to begin his duties, whatever they might be. at the wharf were a large number of soudanese soldiers. a telegram, from the last station they touched at, had given notice of the hour at which the boat would arrive; and a battalion of native troops had marched down, to assist in unloading the stores. a white officer had come down with them, to superintend the operation, and the other officers at once went on shore to speak to him. gregory had got all his traps together and, as the soudanese poured on board, he thought it better to remain with them; as, if his belongings once got scattered, there would be little chance of his being able to collect them again. after a short time, he went up to one of the native officers. "this is my first visit here," he said in arabic, "and as i have not brought up a servant with me, i do not like to leave my baggage here, while i go and report myself to general hunter. will you kindly tell me what i had better do?" "certainly. i will place one of my corporals in charge of your things. it would be as well to get them ashore at once, as we shall want the decks clear, in order that the men may work freely in getting the stores up from below. the corporal will see that your baggage is carried to the bank, to a spot where it will be out of the way, and will remain with it until you know where it is to be taken." thanking him for his civility, gregory went on shore. the officer who had told him the story of the campaign was still talking, to the major who had come down with the blacks. as gregory came up, he said: "i wondered what had become of you, hilliard. i have been telling major sidney that a young lieutenant had come up, to report himself to the general for service." "i am glad to see you, sir," the major said, holding out his hand. "every additional white officer is a material gain, and i have no doubt that general hunter will find plenty for you to do. i hear you can speak the negro language, as well as arabic. that will be specially useful here, for the natives are principally negro, and speak very little arabic. "how about your baggage?" "one of the native officers has undertaken to get it ashore, and to put a corporal in charge of it, until i know where it is to go." "well, fladgate, as you are going to the general's, perhaps you will take mr. hilliard with you, and introduce him." "with pleasure. "now, mr. hilliard, let us be off, at once. the sun is getting hot, and the sooner we are under shelter, the better." ten minutes' walk took them to the house formerly occupied by the egyptian governor of the town, where general hunter now had his headquarters. the general, who was a brevet colonel in the british army, had joined the egyptian army in . he had, as a captain in the lancashire regiment, taken part in the nile expedition, - ; had been severely wounded at the battle of ginnis; and again at toski, where he commanded a brigade. he was still a comparatively young man. he had a broad forehead, and an intellectual face, that might have betokened a student rather than a soldier; but he was celebrated, in the army, for his personal courage and disregard of danger, and was adored by his black soldiers. he rose from the table at which he was sitting, as captain fladgate came in. "i am glad to see you back again," he said. "i hope you have quite shaken off the fever?" "quite, general. i feel thoroughly fit for work again. allow me to present to you mr. hilliard, who has just received a commission as lieutenant in the egyptian army. he has a letter from the sirdar, to you." "well, i will not detain you now, captain fladgate. you will find your former quarters in readiness for you. dinner at the usual time; then you shall tell me the news of cairo. "now, mr. hilliard," and he turned to gregory, "pray take a seat. this is your first experience in soldiering, i suppose?" "yes, sir." "i think you are the first white officer who has been appointed, who has not had experience in our own army first. you have not been appointed to any particular battalion, have you?" "no, sir. i think i have come out to make myself generally useful. these are the letters that i was to hand to you--one is from the sirdar himself, the other is from his chief of the staff, and this letter is from captain ewart." the general read the sirdar's letter first. he then opened that from the chief of the staff. this was the more bulky of the two, and contained several enclosures. "ah! this relates to you," the general said as, after glancing over the two official despatches, he read through the letter of captain ewart, who was a personal friend of his. the latter had given a full account of gregory's history, and said that the sirdar had especially asked him to put him in the way of things; that he had seen a great deal of him on the journey up, and was very greatly pleased with him. "the lad is a perfect gentleman," he said, "which is certainly astonishing, he being a product of cairo. i consider him in all respects--except, of course, a classical education--fully equal to the average young officer, on first joining. he is very modest and unassuming; and will, i feel sure, perform with credit any work that you may give him to do." "i see," he said, laying it down, "you have only joined the army temporarily, and with a special purpose, and i am told to utilize your services as i think best. you have a perfect knowledge of arabic, and of the negro dialect. that will be very useful, for though we all speak arabic, few speak the negro language, which is more commonly used here. "your father fell with hicks pasha, i am told, and you have joined us with the object of obtaining news as to the manner in which he met his death?" "that is so, sir. it was always my mother's wish that i should, when i was old enough, come up to the soudan to make enquiries. as my father was a good arabic scholar, my mother always entertained a faint hope that he might have escaped; especially as we know that a good many of the egyptian soldiers were not killed, but were taken prisoners, and made to serve in the mahdi's army." "yes, there are several of them among the khalifa's artillerymen, but i am very much afraid that none of the officers were spared. you see, they kept together in a body, and died fighting to the last." "i have hardly any hopes myself, sir. still, as my father was interpreter, he might not have been with the others, but in some other part of the square that was attacked." "that is possible; but he was a white man, and in the heat of the battle i don't think that the dervishes would have made any exception. you see, there were two correspondents with hicks, and neither of them has ever been heard of; and they must, i should think, have joined in that last desperate charge of his. "well, for the present i must make you a sort of extra aide-de-camp, and what with one thing and another, i have no doubt that i shall find plenty for you to do. as such, you will of course be a member of headquarters mess, and therefore escape the trouble of providing for yourself. you have not brought a servant up with you, i suppose?" "no, sir. captain ewart, who most kindly advised me as to my outfit, said that, if i could find an intelligent native here, it would be better than taking a man from cairo." "quite right; and the fellows one picks up at cairo are generally lazy, and almost always dishonest. the men you get here may not know much, but are ready enough to learn; and, if well treated, will go through fire and water for their master. "go down to the stores, and tell the officer in charge there that i shall be glad if he will pick out two or three fellows, from whom you may choose a servant." when gregory had given his message, the officer said: "you had better pick out one for yourself, mr. hilliard. strength and willingness to work are the points i keep my eye upon; and, except for the foremen of the gangs, their intelligence does not interest me. you had better take a turn among the parties at work, and pick out a man for yourself." gregory was not long in making his choice. he selected a young fellow who, although evidently exerting himself to the utmost, was clearly incapable of doing his share in carrying the heavy bales and boxes, that were easily handled by older men. he had a pleasant face, and looked more intelligent than most of the others. "to what tribe do you belong?" gregory asked him. "the jaalin. i come from near metemmeh." "i want a servant. you do not seem to be strong enough for this work, but if you will be faithful, and do what i tell you, i will try you." the young fellow's face lit up. "i will be faithful, bey. it would be kind of you to take me. i am not at my full strength yet and, although i try my hardest, i cannot do as much as strong men, and then i am abused. i will be very faithful, and if you do not find me willing to do all that you tell me, you can send me back to work here." "well, come along with me, then." he took him to the officer. "i have chosen this man, sir. can i take him away at once?" "certainly. he has been paid up to last night." "thank you very much! i will settle with him for today." and, followed by the young tribesman, he went to the headquarters camp, near which an empty hut was assigned to him. chapter : gregory volunteers. the hut of which gregory took possession was constructed of dry mud. the roof was of poles, on which were thickly laid boughs and palm leaves; and on these a layer of clay, a foot thick. an opening in the wall, eighteen inches square, served as a window. near the door the floor was littered with rubbish of all kinds. "what is your name?" "zaki." "well, zaki, the first thing is to clear out all this rubbish, and sweep the floor as clean as you can. i am going down to the river to get my baggage up. can you borrow a shovel, or something of that sort, from one of the natives here? or, if he will sell it, buy one. i will pay when i return. it will always come in useful. if you cannot get a shovel, a hoe will do. ah! i had better give you a dollar, the man might not trust you." he then walked down to the river, and found the black corporal sitting tranquilly by the side of his baggage. the man stood up and saluted, and on gregory saying that he had now a house, at once told off two soldiers to carry the things. arriving at the hut, he found zaki hard at work, shovelling the rubbish through the doorway. just as he came up, the boy brought down his tool, with a crash, upon a little brown creature that was scuttling away. "what is that, zaki?" "that is a scorpion, bey; i have killed four of them." "that is not at all pleasant," gregory said. "there may be plenty of them, up among the boughs overhead." zaki nodded. "plenty of creatures," he said, "some snakes." "then we will smoke them out, before i go in. when you have got the rubbish out, make a fire in the middle, wet some leaves and things and put them on, and we will hang a blanket over the window and shut the door. i will moisten some powder and scatter it among the leaves, and the sulphur will help the smoke to bring them down." this was done, the door closed and, as it did not fit at all tightly, the cracks were filled with some damp earth from the watercourse. "what did you pay for the shovel, zaki?" "half a dollar, bey. here is the other half." "well, you had better go and buy some things for yourself. tomorrow i will make other arrangements. get a fire going out here. there is a sauce pan and a kettle, so you can boil some rice or fry some meat." gregory then went again to the officer who was acting as quartermaster. "i have been speaking to the general," the latter said. "you will mess with the staff. the dinner hour is seven o'clock. i am sure you will soon feel at home." gregory now strolled through the camp. the troops were in little mud huts, of their own construction; as these, in the heat of the day, were much cooler than tents. the sun was getting low, and the soudanese troops were all occupied in cooking, mending their clothes, sweeping the streets between the rows of huts, and other light duties. they seemed, to gregory, as full of fun and life as a party of schoolboys--laughing, joking, and playing practical tricks on each other. the physique of some of the regiments was splendid, the men averaging over six feet in height, and being splendidly built. other regiments, recruited among different tribes, were not so tall, but their sturdy figures showed them to be capable of any effort they might be called upon to make. one of the officers came out of his tent, as he passed. "you are a new arrival, i think, sir?" he said. "we have so few white officers, here, that one spots a fresh face at once." "yes, i only arrived two or three hours ago. my name is hilliard. i am not attached to any regiment; but, as i speak the languages well, general hunter is going, so he said, to make me generally useful. i only received my commission a few days before leaving cairo." "well, come in and have a soda and whisky. the heat out here is frightful. you can tell me the last news from cairo, and when we are going to move." "i shall be happy to come in and have a chat," gregory said, "but i do not drink anything. i have been brought up in cairo, and am accustomed to heat, and i find that drinking only makes one more thirsty." "i believe it does," the other said, "especially when the liquid is almost as hot as one is, one's self. will you sit down on that box? chairs are luxuries that we do not indulge in here. well, have you heard anything about a move?" "nothing; but the officers i have spoken to all seem to think that it will soon begin. a good many came up with me, to wady halfa and the stations on the river; and i heard that all who had sufficiently recovered were under orders to rejoin, very shortly." "yes, i suppose it won't be long. of course we know nothing here, and i don't expect we shall, till the order comes for us to start. this is not the time of year when one expects to be on the move; and if we do go, it is pretty certain that it is because kitchener has made up his mind for a dash forward. you see, if we take abu hamed and drive the dervishes away, we can, at once, push the railway on to that place; and, as soon as it is done, the troops can be brought up and an advance made to berber, if not farther, during the cool season--if you can ever call it a cool season, here." "is there any great force at abu hamed?" "no; nothing that could stand against this for a moment. their chief force, outside omdurman, is at metemmeh under mahmud, the khalifa's favourite son. you see, the jaalin made fools of themselves. instead of waiting until we could lend them a hand, they revolted as soon as we took dongola, and the result was that mahmud came down and pretty well wiped them out. they defended themselves stoutly, at metemmeh, but had no chance against such a host as he brought with him. the town was taken, and its defenders, between two and three thousand fighting men, were all massacred, together with most of the women and children. "by the accounts brought down to us, by men who got away, it must have been an even more horrible business than usual; and the dervishes are past masters in the art of massacre. however, i think that their course is nearly up. of late, a good many fugitives from kordofan have arrived here, and they say that there will be a general revolt there, when they hear that we have given the dervishes a heavy thrashing." "and where do you think the great fight is likely to take place?" gregory asked. "not this side of metemmeh. except at abu hamed, we hear of no other strong dervish force between this and omdurman. if mahmud thinks himself strong enough, no doubt he will fight; but if he and the khalifa know their business, he will fall back and, with the forces at omdurman, fight one big battle. the two armies together will, from what we hear, amount to sixty or seventy thousand; and there is no doubt whatever that, with all their faults, the beggars can fight. it will be a tough affair, but i believe we shall have some british troops here to help, before the final advance. we can depend now on both the soudanese and the egyptians to fight hard, but there are not enough of them. the odds would be too heavy, and the sirdar is not a man to risk failure. but with a couple of brigades of british infantry, there can be no doubt what the result will be; and i fancy that, if we beat them in one big fight, it will be all up with mahdism. "it is only because the poor beggars of tribesmen regard the dervishes as invincible, that they have put up so long with their tyranny. but the rising of the jaalin, and the news we get from kordofan, show that the moment they hear the dervishes are beaten, and khartoum is in our hands, there will be a general rising, and the dervishes will be pretty well exterminated. we all hope that mahmud won't fight, for if he does, and we beat him, the khalifa and his lot may lose heart and retire before we get to omdurman; and, once away, the tremendous business of trying to follow him will confront us. here we have got the river and the railway, but we have no land carriage for an army, and he might keep on falling back to the great lakes, for anything that we could do to overtake him. so we all hope that mahmud will retire to omdurman without fighting, and with such a host as the khalifa would then have, he would be certain to give battle before abandoning his capital." "they are fine-looking fellows, these blacks," gregory said. "they are splendid fellows--they love fighting for fighting's sake. it is, in their opinion, the only worthy occupation for a man, and they have shown themselves worthy to fight by the side of our men. they have a perfect confidence in us, and would, i believe, go anywhere we led them. they say themselves, 'we are never afraid--just like english.'" "there seem to be a good many women about the camps." "yes, their women follow them wherever they go. they cook for them, and generally look after them. they are as warlike as their husbands, and encourage them, when they go out to battle, with their applause and curious quavering cries. the men get very little pay; but as they are provided with rations, and draw a certain amount for the women, it costs next to nothing, and i fancy that having the wives with them pays well. i believe they would rather be killed than come back and face their reproaches. "i could not wish to have more cheery or better fellows with me. they never grumble, they are always merry, and really they seem to be tireless. they practically give no trouble whatever, and it is good to see how they brighten up, when there is a chance of a fight." "i hope i shall see them at it, before long," gregory said. "now i must be going, for i have to change, and put on my mess uniform before dinner. i am rather nervous about that, for i am not accustomed to dine with generals." "you will find it all very pleasant," the other said. "hunter is a splendid fellow, and is adored by his men. his staff are all comparatively young men, with none of the stiffness of the british staff officer about them. we are all young--there is scarcely a man with the rank of captain in the british army out here. we are all majors or colonels in the egyptian army, but most of us are subalterns in our own regiments. it is good training for us. at home a subaltern is merely a machine to carry out orders; he is told to do this, and he does it; for him to think for himself would be a heinous offence. he is altogether without responsibility, and without initiative and, by the time he becomes a field officer, he is hidebound. he has never thought for himself, and he can't be expected to begin to do so, after working for twenty years like a machine. "you will see, if we ever have a big war, that will be our weak point. if it wasn't for wars like this, and our little wars in india, where men do learn to think and take responsibility, i don't know where our general officers would get their training. "well, you must be going. goodbye! we shall often meet. there are so few of us here, that we are always running against each other. i won't ask you to dine with us, for a few days. no doubt you would like to get accustomed to headquarters mess first. of course, hunter and the brigade staff dine together; while we have little regimental messes among ourselves, which i prefer. when there are only three or four of us, one can sit down in one's shirt sleeves, whereas at the brigade mess one must, of course, turn up in uniform, which in this climate is stifling." the meal was a more pleasant one than gregory had anticipated. on board the steamer he had, of course, dined with the other officers; and he found little difference here. ten sat down, including the principal medical officer and a captain--the head of the station intelligence department, major wingate, being at present at wady halfa. except for the roughness of the surroundings, it was like a regimental mess, and the presence of the general commanding in no way acted as a damper to the conversation. general hunter had, before sitting down, introduced him to all the members with a few pleasant words, which had put him at his ease. gregory had, on his way up, learned a good deal as to the officers who were down at cairo for their health; and he was able to say who were convalescent, and who had sailed, or were on the point of sailing, for england. the table was formed of two long benches, and had been constructed by the engineers. it was laid under a large tent, of which the walls had been removed to give a free passage of air. although scarcely up to the standard of a mess dinner at home, it was by no means a bad one; consisting of soup, fish from the river, a joint of beef at one end and of mutton at the other, curried kidneys, sweet omelettes and cheese, whisky with water or soda to drink at dinner; and, after the meal, four bottles of claret were placed on the table, and cigars or pipes lit. half an hour later four of the party sat down to whist, and the rest, going outside the tent, sat or threw themselves down on the sand, and smoked or chatted till it was time to turn in. gregory's first step, next morning, was to buy a horse. this he purchased from some fugitives, who had come down from kordofan. it was a good animal, though in poor condition, and would soon pick up flesh, when well attended and fed. to accustom himself to riding, gregory went out on it for a couple of hours every morning; getting up before daybreak, so as to take exercise before the work of the day began. he also followed the example of the officers of the egyptian regiments, and purchased a camel for the conveyance of his own baggage. "you will find it a great advantage," one of them said to him. "of course, times may arrive when you will have to leave it behind; but, as a rule, there is no trouble about it at all. you hire a native driver, who costs practically nothing, and he keeps with the baggage. no one asks any questions, and when you halt for a day or two, you have comforts. of course, with a british regiment you are cut down to the last ounce, but with us it is altogether different. there being only three or four white officers to each regiment, the few extra camels in the train make no appreciable difference. besides, these black fellows consider it quite natural and proper that their white officers should fare in a very different way from themselves; whereas a british tommy would be inclined to grumble if he saw his officers enjoying luxuries, while he himself had to rough it." as the horse only cost three pounds, and the camel only five, gregory's store of money was not seriously affected by the purchases. for both animals, although in poor condition from their journey from kordofan, a fortnight's rest and good feeding did wonders. zaki had not much to do, but gregory was well satisfied with the selection he had made. he looked after and groomed the horse, saw that the native with the camel took care of it, and went down regularly to the river to water it every evening, while he himself did the same with the horse. he always had a jug of cold tea ready for gregory, whenever he came in, and the floor of the tent was kept scrupulously clean. zaki's only regret was that he could not do more for his master, but he was consoled by being told that the time would soon come when he would be more actively engaged. from the first day of his arrival, gregory was kept fully employed. sometimes he assisted the officer of the intelligence department, in interviewing fugitives who had arrived from berber and other points on the river, from kordofan, or from villages on the white nile. sometimes he carried messages from the general to the officers in command of the two egyptian brigades. he had to listen to disputes between natives returning to their homes, from which they had been driven by the dervishes, and those they found in possession of their land. he took notes of the arguments on both sides, and submitted them to the general for his decision. the work would have been trifling in any other climate, but was exhausting in the sweltering heat of the day, and he was not sorry when the sun sank, and he could take off his khaki tunic and go down to the river for a swim. one evening, as they were sitting after dinner, general hunter said: "it is very annoying that, while these natives making their way down the country are able to tell us a good deal of what is taking place on the nile, from omdurman down to metemmeh; and while we also get news of the state of things at berber and abu hamed; we know nothing whatever of mahmud's intentions, nor indeed anything of what is doing at metemmeh, itself, since it was captured by the dervishes and, as we heard, the whole population destroyed. "of course, mahmud has the choice of three courses. he can stay where he is, he can march his whole force to berber, or he can advance against us here. i don't suppose that he has any idea of the progress the railway is making from wady halfa. he may have heard, and no doubt he has heard, that we are making a road of some sort across the desert in the direction of abu hamed; but of the capabilities of the railway he can form no idea, and may well believe that the march of an army, across what is practically a waterless desert, is a matter of impossibility. "on the other hand, he knows that we are gathering a considerable force here; and, with his limited knowledge, doubtless supposes that we are going to cross the bayuda desert, to metemmeh, as the gordon relief column did; or that, if we are not coming that way, we intend to follow the river bank up to berber. unquestionably his best course, if he considers, as we may be sure he does, that the force under his command is strong enough to crush us here, would be to push across the desert, and fall upon us before reinforcements arrive. but it is reported, and i believe truly, that the khalifa, his father, has positively refused to let him do so; still, sons have disobeyed their fathers before now. "there is, it is true, the difficulty of water; but that is not so serious, in the case of a dervish force, as it is with us. in the first place, they can march twice as far as we can. in the second place, they are accustomed to go a long time without water, and are but little affected by the heat. lastly, they have nothing to carry except their weapons, a few handfuls of dates, and their water gourds. still, we know that the forces that have, one after another, arrived here have been greatly weakened by the journey. however, mahmud may attempt it, for he must know, from his spies here, that we have at present no such land transport as would be required, were we intending to advance across the desert. he may, therefore, move at least a portion of his force to berber; trusting to the fact that, even did we make an advance south from here, with the intention of cutting off his retreat to khartoum, he would be able to reach metemmeh before we could get there. "undoubtedly, a british general, if commanding a force constituted as mahmud's is, would make a dash across the desert and fall upon us; unless, indeed, he felt certain that, after the difficulties we encountered last time we attempted to take the desert route, we should be certain to advance by the river, step by step, continuing the policy that we have followed since we began to push forward from assouan. "mahmud is in a very difficult position. he is controlled by his father at khartoum. among those with him are many important emirs, men of almost equal rank with himself; and he could hardly hope that whatever decision he might personally arrive at would be generally accepted by all; and those who opposed him would do so with all the more force, as they could declare that, in making any movement, he was acting in opposition to his father's orders. "however, our total ignorance as to mahmud's plans and intentions is most unfortunate; but it can hardly be helped, for naturally the natives coming down from kordofan give metemmeh a very wide berth. as to sending up any of the natives here, to find out what is going on, it is out of the question, for they would be detected at once, as their language is so different from that of the baggara." later on, the general retired to his quarters. gregory went there. "can i speak to you for a few minutes, sir?" he asked. "certainly, mr. hilliard. what can i do for you?" "i have been thinking over what you were saying, regarding information as to mahmud's intentions. with your permission, i am ready to undertake to go into his camp, and to find out what the general opinion is as to his plans." "impossible, mr. hilliard! i admire your courage in making the offer, but it would be going to certain death." "i do not think so, sir. i talk baggara better than the negro dialect that passes here. it is among the baggara that i am likely to learn something of my father's fate; and, as the old nurse from whom i learnt these languages had been for a long time among that tribe, she devoted, at my mother's request, more time to teaching me their arab dialect than any other, and i am convinced that i could pass unsuspected among them, as far as language is concerned. there is no great difference between arab features and european, and i think that, when i am stained brown and have my head partly shaved, according to their fashion, there will be little fear of my being detected. "as to costume, that is easy enough. i have not seen any of the dervishes yet, but the natives who have come in from el obeid, or any other neighbourhood where they are masters, could give me an account of their dress, and the way in which they wear the patches on their clothes, which are the distinguishing mark of the mahdists." "i could tell you that. so could any of the officers. their dress differs very little from the ordinary arab costume. nearly all wear loose white trousers, coming down to the ankles. in some cases these are the usual baggy eastern articles, in others the legs are separate. they almost all wear the white garment coming down to the knee, with of course a sash round the waist, and sleeves reaching down to the elbow or an inch or two below it. some wear turbans, but the majority simply skullcaps. i could get the dress made up in three or four hours. but the risk is altogether too great, and i do not think that i should be justified in allowing you to undertake it." "i really do not think that there will be any great danger, sir. if there were no great object to be gained, it would be different; but in view of the great importance, as you said this evening, of learning mahmud's intentions, the risk of one life being lost, even were it great, is nothing. as you say, the sirdar's plans might be greatly affected by the course mahmud adopts; and in such a case, the life of a subaltern like myself is a matter scarcely to be considered. "from childhood i have been preparing to go among the dervishes, and this is what i propose doing, as soon as khartoum is recaptured. therefore sir if, by anticipating my work by a few months, or possibly a year, i can render a service to the army, i would gladly undertake it, if you will give me permission to do so." the general was, for a minute or two, silent. "well, hilliard," he said at last, "on thinking it over as you put it, i do not know that i should be justified in refusing your offer. it is a very gallant one, and may possibly meet with success." "thank you, sir! i shall be really glad to enter upon the work i have looked forward to. although it may have no direct bearing upon the discovery of my father's fate, it will be a start in that direction. do you think that i had better go mounted, or on foot?" "i should say certainly on horseback, but there is no occasion for any hasty determination. every step should be carefully considered, and we should, as far as possible, foresee and provide for every emergency that may arise. think it over well, yourself. some time tomorrow i will discuss it again with you." gregory went straight back to his hut. "come in, zaki, i want to speak to you. "light the lamp, and shut the door. now sit down there. do you know the country between this and metemmeh?" "yes, master; i travelled there with my father, six years ago." "is it difficult to find the way?" "it is not difficult. there are many signs of the passage of caravans. there are skeletons of the camels of the english expedition; there are very many of them. it would not be difficult, even for one who has never passed them, to find the way." "and there are wells?" "there are wells at howeyat and abu halfa, at gakdul and abu klea, also at gubat." "that is to say, water will be found nearly every day?" "quite every day, to one on horseback. the longest distance is from gakdul to abu klea, but that would not be too long for mounted men, and could even be done by a native on foot, in a long day's march." "do you know whether mahmud's army is in metemmeh, or outside the town?" "from what i have heard, most of the dervish force is on the hills behind the town. they say metemmeh is full of dead, and that even the dervishes do not care to live there." "the baggara are mostly mounted, are they not?" "most of them are so, though there are some on foot. the leaders of the tribesmen who fight for the khalifa are all on horseback, but most of the army are on foot." "you do not speak the baggara language, i suppose?" zaki shook his head. "i know a little arabic, but not much." "i suppose most of the arab tribes in the soudan speak a dialect very much like the baggara?" "yes; it is everywhere arabic, and there is but little difference. they can all understand each other, and talk together. may your servant ask why you put these questions?" "yes, zaki, but you must not mention what i tell you to a soul." "zaki will be as silent as the grave." "well, i am going up dressed as a mahdist. i can speak the baggara tongue well. i am going to try and find out what they are going to do: whether they will march to berber, or come here, or remain at metemmeh." zaki stared at his master, in speechless amazement. gregory could not help smiling at the expression of his face. "there does not seem much difficulty in it," he said. "i can speak with you in the dialect of dongola, but the baggara language is much easier to me, because i have been accustomed to speak arabic since i was a child. of course my skin will be dyed, and i shall wear the dervish dress. there is no difficulty in this matter." "but they would cut you in pieces, my lord, if they found out that you were a white." "no doubt they would, but there is no reason why they should find that out. it would be much more dangerous for you to go into their camp than it would be for me. in the first place, you can scarcely speak any arabic; and in the second, they would see by your features that you are one of the jaalin. whereas my features, when stained, would be much more like those of the arabs than yours would. "where should i be most likely to meet the dervishes first?" "i do not think any of them are much this side of metemmeh, at present. sometimes parties ride down to gakdul, and they have even passed on till they are within sight of this camp; but when they have found out that the wells are still unoccupied, and the army here quiet, they go back again." "if i go on horseback, zaki, i shall want someone with me who will act as a guide; and who will look after his horse and mine at some place near the river, where he can find a hiding place while i am away in the dervish camp." "would you take me, my lord?" zaki said quickly. "i would much rather take you than anyone else, if you are willing to go, zaki." "surely i will go with my lord," the native said. "no one has ever been so good to me as he has. if my lord is killed, i am ready to die with him. he may count on me to do anything that he requires, even to go with him into the dervish camp. i might go as a slave, my lord." "that would not do, zaki. i do not wish to travel as a person who could ride attended by a slave. people might say, 'who is this man? where does he come from? how is it that no one knows a man who rides with a slave?' "my great object will be to enter the camp quietly, as one who has but left half an hour before. when i have once entered it, and they ask whence i came, i must tell them some likely story that i have made up: as, for example, that i have come from el obeid, and that i am an officer of the governor there; that, finding he could not get away himself, he yielded to my request that i might come, and help to drive the infidels into the sea." zaki nodded. "that would be a good tale, my lord, for men who have escaped from el obeid, and have come here, have said that the khalifa's troops there have not been called to join him at omdurman; for it is necessary to keep a strong force there, as many of the tribes of the province would rise in rebellion, if they had the chance. therefore you would not be likely to meet anyone from el obeid in mahmud's camp." "how is it, zaki, that when so many in the soudan have suffered at the hands of the dervishes, they not only remain quiet, but supply the largest part of the khalifa's army?" "because, my lord, none of them can trust the others. it is madness for one tribe to rise, as the jaalin did at metemmeh. the dervishes wiped them out from the face of the earth. many follow him because they see that allah has always given victory to the mahdists; therefore the mahdi must be his prophet. others join his army because their villages have been destroyed, and their fields wasted, and they see no other way of saving themselves from starvation. "there are many who fight because they are fond of fighting. you see how gladly they take service with you, and fight against their own countrymen, although you are christians. suppose you were to conquer the khalifa tomorrow, half his army would enlist in your service, if you would take them. a man who would be contented to till his fields, if he could do so in peace and quiet, fears that he may see his produce eaten by others and his house set on fire; and would rather leave his home and fight--he cares not against whom. "the mahdist army are badly fed and badly paid. they can scarce keep life together. but in the egyptian army the men are well taken care of. they have their rations, and their pay. they say that if they are wounded, or lose a limb, and are no more able to fight, they receive a pension. is it wonderful that they should come to you and be faithful?" "well, zaki, we won't talk any longer, now. it is agreed, then, that if i go on this expedition, you will accompany me?" "certainly, master. wherever you go i am ready to go. whatever happens to you will, i hope, happen to me." on the following afternoon, gregory was sent for. "i have given the matter a good deal of thought, mr. hilliard," the general said, "and have decided to accept your offer. i suppose that you have been thinking the matter over. do you decide to go on foot, or mounted?" "on horseback, sir. my boy is perfectly willing to go with me. he knows the way, and the position of the wells on the road. my plan is that, when we get near metemmeh, he shall remain with the horses somewhere near the river; and i shall enter the camp on foot. i am less likely to be noticed that way. if questioned, my story will be that my father was at el obeid, and that the governor there is, by the khalifa's orders, holding his force in hand to put down any outbreaks there may be in the province; and that, wishing to fight against the infidel, i have come on my own account. if i am asked why i had not come on horseback, i shall say that i had ridden to within the last two or three miles, and that the horse had then died. "but i do not expect to be questioned at all, as one man on foot is as nothing, in an army of twenty or thirty thousand, gathered from all over the soudan." "you quite understand, mr. hilliard, that you are taking your life in your hands? and that there is no possibility, whatever, of our doing anything for you, if you get into trouble?" "quite, sir. if i am detected, i shall probably be killed at once. i do not think that there is more risk in it than in going into battle. as i have told you, i have, so far as i know, no relatives in the world; and there will be no one to grieve, if i never come back again. "as to the clothes, i can easily buy them from one of the natives here. many of them are dressed in the garments of the dervishes who were killed when we came up here; except, of course, that the patches were taken off. i will get my man to buy a suit for himself, and one for me. it would be better than having new clothes made; for, even if these were dirtied, they would not look old. when he has bought the clothes, he can give them a good washing, and then get a piece of stuff to sew on as patches. "i am afraid, sir, that there will be little chance of my being able to obtain any absolute news of mahmud's intentions; but only to glean general opinion, in the camp. it is not likely that the news of any intended departure would be kept a secret up till the last moment, among the dervishes, as it would be here." "quite so," the general agreed. "we may take it as certain that the matter would be one of common talk. of course, mahmud and his principal advisers might change their minds, at any moment. still i think that, were it intended to make a move against us, or to berber, it would be generally known. "i may tell you that we do not intend to cross the bayuda desert. we shall go up the river, but this is a secret that will be kept till the last moment. and before we start, we shall do all in our power to spread a belief that we are going to advance to metemmeh. we know that they are well informed, by their spies here, of our movements. we shall send a strong force to make a reconnaissance, as far as gakdul. this will appear to be a preliminary step to our advance, and should keep mahmud inactive, till too late. he will not dare advance to berber, because he will be afraid of our cutting him off from omdurman. "you are satisfied with your horse? it is advisable that you should have a good one, and yet not so good as to attract attention." "yes; i could not want a better horse, general. he is not handsome, but i have ridden him a great deal, and he is certainly fast; and, being desert bred, i have no doubt has plenty of endurance. i shall, of course, get one for my boy." "there are plenty in the transport yard. they have been bought up from fugitives who have come in here. i will write you an order to select any one you choose; and if you see one you think better than your own, you can take it also; and hand yours over to the transport, to keep until you return. "you should take a martini-henri with you. i will give you an order for one, on one of the native regiments. they are, as you know, armed with them; and have, of course, a few cases of spare rifles. a good many have fallen into the hands of the dervishes, at one time or another, so that your carrying such a weapon will not excite any remark. it would not do to take a revolver, but no doubt you will be able to buy pistols that have been brought down by the fugitives. you will certainly be able to get them at some of those greek shops. they buy up all that kind of thing. of course, you will carry one of the dervish long knives. "is there anything else that you can think of?" "nothing, sir." "when will you be ready, do you suppose?" "by the day after tomorrow, sir. i shall start after dark, so that no one will notice my going. with your permission, i will come round before i set off, so that you can see whether the disguise is good enough to pass." chapter : to metemmeh. zaki at once set to work to collect the articles needed for the journey; and gregory obtained, from the transport, another horse and two native saddles. he was well satisfied with his own animal; and, even had he found in the transport yard a better horse, he would still have preferred his own, as they were accustomed to each other. he bought pistols for himself and zaki, and a matchlock for the latter. everything was ready by the time gregory went to the mess to lunch, on the day fixed for his departure. nothing whatever had been said as to his leaving, as it was possible that some of the native servants, who waited upon them, might have picked up sufficient english to gather that something important was about to take place. when, however, the meal was over and he said carelessly, "i shall not be at mess this evening;" he saw, by the expression of the officers' faces, that they all were aware of the reason for his absence. one after another they either shook hands with him, or gave him a quiet pat on the shoulder, with the words "take care of yourself, lad," or "a safe journey and a speedy return," or some other kind wish. going to his hut, he was shaved by zaki at the back of the neck, up to his ears; so that the white, closely-fitting cap would completely cover the hair. outside the tent a sauce pan was boiling with herbs and berries, which the lad had procured from an old woman who was considered to have a great knowledge of simples. at four in the afternoon, gregory was stained from head to foot, two coats of the dye being applied. this used but a small quantity of the liquor, and the rest was poured into a gourd, for future use. the dresses were ready, with the exception of the mahdi patches, which were to be sewn on at their first halting place. before it was dark, gregory went across to the general's quarters. the black sentry stopped him. "the general wants to speak to me," gregory said, in arabic. the man called up the native sergeant from the guard tent, who asked what he wanted. "i am here by the orders of the general." the sergeant looked doubtful, but went in. he returned in a minute, and motioned to gregory to follow him in. the general looked at him, from head to foot. "i suppose it is you, hilliard," he said, "but i certainly should not have recognized you. with that yellowish-brown skin, you could pass anywhere as a soudan arab. will the colour last?" "i am assured that it will last for some days, but i am taking enough with me to renew it, four or five times." "well, unless some unexpected obstacle occurs, i think you are safe from detection. mind you avoid men from el obeid; if you do not fall in with them, you should be safe. of course, when you have sewn on those patches, your disguise will be complete. "i suppose you have no idea how long you will be away?" "it will take me five days to go there, and five days to come back. i should think that if i am three days in the camp, i ought to get all the information required. in a fortnight i should be here; though, of course, i may be longer. if i am not back within a few days of that time, you will know that it is because i have stayed there, in the hopes of getting more certain news. if i don't return in three weeks, it will be because something has gone wrong." "i hope it will not be so, lad. as regards appearance and language, i have no fear of your being detected; but you must always bear in mind that there are other points. you have had the advantage of seeing the camps of the native regiments, when the men are out of uniform--how they walk, laugh uproariously, play tricks with each other, and generally behave. these are all natives of the soudan, and no small proportion of them have been followers of the mahdi, and have fought against us, so they may be taken as typical of the men you are going among. it is in all these little matters that you will have to be careful. "now, i will not detain you longer. i suppose your horses are on board?" it had been arranged that gregory should be taken down to korti, in a native craft that was carrying some stores required at that camp. "yes, sir. my boy put them on board, two hours ago." "here is the pass by which you can enter or leave the british lines, at any time. the boat will be there before daylight, but the landing of the stores will not, of course, take place until later. show this pass to the first officer who comes down. it contains an order for you to be allowed to start on your journey, at once. "this other pass is for your return. you had better, at your first halt, sew it under one of your patches. it is, as you see, written on a piece of linen, so that however closely you may be examined, there will be no stiffness or crackling, as would be the case with paper. "now goodbye, hilliard! it is a satisfaction to me that you have undertaken this journey on your own initiative, and on your own request. i believe that you have a fair chance of carrying it through--more so than men with wider shoulders and bigger limbs would have. if you come to grief, i shall blame myself for having accepted your offer; but i shall at least know that i thought it over seriously, and that, seeing the importance of the object in view, i did not feel myself justified in refusing." with a cordial shake of the hand, he said goodbye to gregory. the latter went off to his hut. he did not leave it until dusk, and then went down to the boat, where zaki had remained with the horses. as soon as it started they lay down alongside some bales, on the deck of the native craft, and were soon asleep. they did not wake until a slight bump told them they were alongside the wharf, at korti. day was just breaking, so no move was made until an hour later. an officer came down, with the fatigue party, to unload the stores that she had brought down. when the horses were ashore, gregory handed the pass to the officer, who was standing on the bank. he looked at it, with some surprise. "going to do some scouting," he muttered, and then called to a native officer, "pass these two men beyond the outposts. they have an order from general hunter." "will you be away long?" he asked gregory, in arabic. "a week or more, my lord," the latter replied. "ah! i suppose you are going to gakdul. as far as we have heard, there are no dervishes there. well, you must keep a sharp lookout. they may be in hiding anywhere about there, and your heads won't be worth much, if they lay hands on you." "we intend to do so, sir;" and then, mounting, they rode on, the native officer walking beside them. "you know the country, i suppose?" he said. "the dervishes are bad, but i would rather fall into their hands than lose my way in the desert. the one is a musket ball or a quick chop with a knife, the other an agony for two or three days." "i have been along the road before," zaki said. "there is no fear of my losing my way; and, even if i did so, i could travel by the stars." "i wish we were all moving," the native said. "it is dull work staying here, month after month." as soon as they were beyond the lines, they thanked the officer and went off, at a pace native horses are capable of keeping up for hours. "korti is a much pleasanter camp to stay in than merawi," gregory said. "it really looks a delightful place. it is quite evident that the mahdists have never made a raid here." the camp stood on a high bank above the river. there were spreading groves of trees, and the broad avenues, that had been constructed when the gordon relief expedition was encamped there, could still be seen. beyond it was a stretch of land which had been partly cultivated. sevas grass grew plentifully, and acacia and mimosa shrubs in patches. they rode to the wells of hambok, a distance of some five-and-thirty miles, which they covered in five hours. there they halted, watered their horses and, after giving them a good feed, turned them out to munch the shrubs or graze on the grass, as they chose. they then had a meal from the food they had brought with them, made a shelter of bushes, for the heat was intense, and afterwards sewed the mahdi patches upon their clothes. when the sun went down they fetched the horses in, gave them a small feed, and then fastened them to some bushes near. as there was plenty of water in the wells, they took an empty gourd down and, stripping, poured water over their heads and bodies; then, feeling greatly refreshed, dressed and lay down to sleep. the moon rose between twelve and one; and, after giving the horses a drink, they mounted and rode to gakdul, which they reached soon after daybreak. they had stopped a mile away, and zaki went forward on foot, hiding himself as much as possible from observation. on his return he reported that no one was at the wells, and they therefore rode on, taking every precaution against surprise. the character of the scenery had completely changed; and they had, for some miles, been winding along at the foot of the jebel-el-jilif hills. these were steep and precipitous, with spurs and intermediate valleys. the wells differed entirely from those at hambok, which were merely holes dug in the sand, the water being brought up in one of the skin bags they had brought with them, and poured into shallow cisterns made in the surface. at gakdul the wells were large pools in the rock, at the foot of one of the spurs of the hill, two miles from the line of the caravan route. here the water was beautifully clear, and abundant enough for the wants of a large force. "it is lucky i had you with me, zaki, for i should certainly have gone straight on past the wells, without knowing where they were; and as there are no others this side of abu klea, i should have had rather a bad day." the three forts which the guards had built, when they came on in advance of general stewart's column, were still standing; as well as a number of smaller ones, which had been afterwards added. "it is rather a bad place for being caught, zaki, for the ground is so broken, and rocky, that the dervishes might creep up without being seen." "yes, sir, it is a bad place," zaki agreed. "i am glad that none of the dervishes were here, for we should not have seen them, until we were quite close." zaki had, on the road, cut a large faggot of dried sticks, and a fire was soon lighted. "you must give the horses a good allowance of grain," gregory said, "for they will be able to pick up nothing here, and it is a long ride to abu klea." "we shall have to be very careful there, my lord. it is not so very far from metemmeh, and we are very likely to find baggaras at the wells. it was there they met the english force that went through to metemmeh. "i think it would be better for us to halt early, this evening, and camp at the foot of jebel sergain. the english halted there, before advancing to abu klea. we can take plenty of water in the two skins, to give the horses a drink and leave enough for tomorrow. there is grass in abundance there. "when the moon rises, we can make our way round to avoid abu klea, and halt in the middle of the day for some hours. we could then ride on as soon as the sun is low, halt when it becomes too dark to ride, and then start again when the moon rises. in that way we shall reach the river, before it is light." "i think that would be a very good plan, zaki. we should find it very difficult to explain who we were, if we met any dervishes at abu klea. i will have a look at my sketch map; we have found it very good and accurate, so far; and with that, and the compass the general gave me before starting, we ought to have no difficulty in striking the river, as the direction is only a little to the east of south." he opened a tin of preserved meat, of which he had four with him, and placed it to warm near the fire. "we should have had to throw the other tins away, if we had gone on to abu klea," he said. "it would never have done for them to be found upon us, if we were searched." when the meat was hot they ate it, using some biscuits as plates. afterwards they feasted on a melon they had brought with them, and were glad to hear their horses munching the leaves of some shrubs near. when the moon rose, they started. it was slow work at first, as they had some difficulty in passing the rough country lying behind the hill. once past it, they came upon a level plain, and rode fast for some hours. at ten o'clock they halted, and lay down under the shelter of the shrubs; mounting again at four, and riding for another three hours. "how far do you think we are from the river now? by the map, i should think we cannot be much more than twenty miles from it." "i don't know, my lord. i have never been along here before; but it certainly ought not to be farther than that." "we have ridden nine hours. we travelled slowly for the first four or five, but we have come fast, since then. we must give the horses a good rest, so we will not move on till the moon rises, which will be about a quarter to two. it does not give a great deal of light, now, and we shall have to make our way through the scrub; but, at any rate, we ought to be close to the river, before morning." when the sun was low they again lit a fire, and had another good meal, giving the greater portion of their stock of biscuits to the horses, and a good drink of water. "we must use up all we can eat before tomorrow, zaki, and betake ourselves to a diet of dried dates. there is enough water left to give the horses a drink before we start, then we shall start as genuine dervishes." they found that the calculation they had made as to distance was correct and, before daybreak, arrived on the bank of the nile, and at once encamped in a grove. in the morning they could see the houses of metemmeh, rising from the line of sandy soil, some five miles away. "there seems to be plenty of bush and cover, all along the bank, zaki. we will stay here till the evening, and then move three miles farther down; so that you may be handy, if i have to leave the dervishes in a hurry." "could we not go into the camp, my lord?" "it would be much better, in some respects, if we could; but, you see, you do not speak arabic." "no, master; but you could say i was carried off as a slave, when i was a boy. you see, i do speak a little arabic, and could understand simple orders; just as any slave boy would, if he had been eight or ten years among the arabs." "it would certainly be a great advantage to have you and the horses handy. however, at first i will go in and join the dervishes, and see how they encamp. they are, no doubt, a good deal scattered; and if we could find a quiet spot, where a few mounted men have taken up their station, we would join them. but before we did that, it would be necessary to find out whether they came from kordofan, or from some of the villages on the white nile. it would never do to stumble into a party from el obeid." they remained quiet all day. the wood extended a hundred and fifty yards back from the river, and there was little fear that anyone coming down from omdurman would enter it, when within sight of metemmeh. at dusk they rode on again, until they judged that they were within two miles of the town; and then, entering a clump of high bushes by the river, halted for the night. chapter : among the dervishes. in the morning gregory started alone, as soon as it was light. as he neared the town, he saw that there were several native craft on the river; and that boats were passing to and fro between the town and shendy, on the opposite bank. from the water side a number of men were carrying what appeared to be bags of grain towards the hills behind the town, while others were straggling down towards the river. without being questioned, gregory entered metemmeh, but stopped there for a very few minutes. everywhere were the bodies of men, women, and children, of donkeys and other animals. all were now shrivelled and dried by the sun, but the stench was almost unbearable, and he was glad to hurry away. once beyond the walls he made for the hill. many tents could be seen there, and great numbers of men moving about. he felt sure that, among so many, no one would notice that he was a newcomer; and after moving among the throng, he soon sat down among a number of dervishes who were eating their morning meal. taking some dates out of his bag, he munched them quietly. from the talk going on, he soon perceived that there was a considerable amount of discontent at the long delay. some of the men were in favour of moving to berber, on the ground that they would at least fare better there; but the majority were eager to march north, to drive the infidels from merawi and dongola. "mahmud would do that, i am sure," one of them said, "if he had but his will; but how could we march without provisions? it is said that mahmud has asked for a sufficient supply to cross the bayuda, and has promised to drive the infidels before him to assouan; but the khalifa says no, it would be better to wait till they come in a strong body, and then to exterminate them. if we are not to fight, why were we sent here? it would have been better to stay at omdurman, because there we had plenty of food; or, if it ran short, could march to the villages and take what we wanted. of course the khalifa knows best, but to us it seems strange, indeed." there was a general chorus of assent. after listening for some time gregory rose and, passing over the ridge, came upon the main camp. here were a number of emirs and sheiks, with their banners flying before the entrance of their tents. the whole ground was thickly dotted with little shelters, formed of bushes, over which dark blankets were thrown to keep out the rays of the sun. everywhere women were seated or standing--some talking to each other, others engaged in cooking. children played about; boys came in loaded with faggots, which they had gone long distances to cut. in some places numbers of horses were picketed, showing where the baggara cavalry were stationed. in the neighbourhood of the emirs' tents there was some sort of attempt at order, in the arrangement of the little shelters, showing where the men of their tribes were encamped. beyond, straggling out for some distance, were small encampments, in some of which the men were still erecting shelters, with the bushes the women and boys brought in. most of these were evidently fresh arrivals, who had squatted down as soon as they came up; either from ignorance as to where their friends had encamped, or from a preference for a quiet situation. this fringe of new arrivals extended along the whole semicircle of the camp; and as several small parties came up while gregory wandered about, and he saw that no notice was taken of them by those already established, he thought that he could bring zaki, and the horses up without any fear of close questioning. he therefore walked down again to the spot where he had left them; and, mounting, they rode to the camp, making a wide sweep so as to avoid the front facing metemmeh. "we could camp equally well, anywhere here, zaki, but we may as well go round to the extreme left; as, if we have to ride off suddenly, we shall at least start from the nearest point to the line by which we came." there was a small clump of bushes, a hundred yards or so from the nearest of the little shelters. here they dismounted, and at once began, with their knives, to cut down some of the bushes to form a screen from the sun. they had watered the horses before they left the river, and had also filled their water skins. "i don't think we could find a better place, zaki," gregory said, when, having completed their shelter and thrown their blankets over it, they lay down in the shade. "no doubt we shall soon be joined by others; but as we are the first comers on this spot, it will be for us to ask questions of them, and, after, for them to make enquiries of us. "i shall go into the camp as soon as the heat abates, and people begin to move about again. remember our story--you were carried off from a jaalin village, in a raid. your master was a small sheik, and is now with the force at el obeid. you had been the companion of his son, and when the latter made up his mind to come and fight here your master gave you your freedom, so that you might fight by his son's side. you might say that i have not yet settled under whose banner i shall fight. all i wish is to be in the front of the battle, when we meet the infidels. that will be quite sufficient. there are men here from almost every village in the soudan, and no one will care much where his neighbours come from. "mention that we intend to fight as matchlock men, not on horseback, as the animals are greatly fatigued from their long journey, and will require rest for some time; and, being so far from home, i fear that we might lose them if we went into the fight with them; and in that case might have to journey on foot, for a long time, before we could get others. "i don't at all suppose that it will be necessary for you to say all this. people will be too much occupied with their own affairs to care much about others; still, it is well not to hesitate, if questioned." talk and laughter in the great camp ceased now, and it was not until the sun lost its power that it again began. gregory did not move, till it began to get dusk. "i shall be away some time," he said, "so don't be at all uneasy about me. i shall take my black blanket, so that i can cover myself with it and lie down, as if asleep, close to any of the emirs' tents where i hear talk going on; and so may be able to gather some idea as to their views. i have already learned that the tribesmen have not heard of any immediate move, and are discontented at being kept inactive so long. the leaders, however, may have their plans, but will not make them known to the men, until it is time for action." the camp was thoroughly alive when he entered it. men were sitting about in groups; the women, as before, keeping near their little shelters, laughing and chatting together, and sometimes quarrelling. from the manner of the men, who either sat or walked about, it was not difficult for gregory to distinguish between the villagers, who had been dragged away from their homes and forced to enter the service of the khalifa, and the baggara and kindred tribes, who had so long held the soudan in subjection. the former were quiet in their demeanour, and sometimes sullen in their looks. he had no doubt that, when the fighting came, these would face death at the hands of the infidels as bravely as their oppressors, for the belief in mahdism was now universal. his followers had proved themselves invincible; they had no doubt that they would destroy the armies of egypt, but they resented being dragged away from their quiet homes, their families, and their fields. among these the baggara strode haughtily. splendid men, for the most part, tall, lithe, and muscular; men with the supreme belief in themselves, and in their cause, carrying themselves as the norman barons might have done among a crowd of saxons; the conquerors of the land, the most trusted followers of the successor of the mahdi, men who felt themselves invincible. it was true that they had, so far, failed to overrun egypt, and had even suffered reverses, but these the khalifa had taught them to consider were due to disobedience of his orders, or the result of their fighting upon unlucky days. all this was soon to be reversed. the prophecies had told that the infidels were about to be annihilated, and that then they would sweep down without opposition, and possess themselves of the plunder of egypt. gregory passed wholly unnoticed among the crowd. there was nothing to distinguish him from others, and the thought that an egyptian spy, still less one of the infidels, should venture into their camp had never occurred to one of that multitude. occasionally, he sat down near a group of the baggara, listening to their talk. they were impatient, too, but they were convinced that all was for the best; and that, when it was the will of allah, they would destroy their enemy. still, there were expressions of impatience that mahmud was not allowed to advance. "we know," one said, "that it is at kirkeban that the last great destruction of the infidel is to take place, and that these madmen are coming to their fate; still, we might move down and destroy those at dongola and along the river, and possess ourselves of their arms and stores. why should we come thus far from omdurman, if we are to go no farther?" "why ask questions?" another said contemptuously. "enough that it is the command of the khalifa, to whom power and knowledge has been given by the mahdi, until he himself returns to earth. to the khalifa will be revealed the day and the hour on which we are to smite the infidel. if mahmud and the great emirs are all content to wait, why should we be impatient?" everywhere gregory went, he heard the same feelings expressed. the men were impatient to be up and doing, but they must wait the appointed hour. it was late before he ventured to approach the tents of the leaders. he knew that it was impossible to get near mahmud himself, for he had his own bodyguard of picked men. the night, however, was dark and, enveloping himself from head to foot in his black blanket, he crawled out until well beyond the line of tents, and then very cautiously made his way towards them again. he knew that he should see the white figures of the dervishes before they could make him out; and he managed, unnoticed, to crawl up to one of the largest tents, and lie down against it. he heard the chatter of the women in an adjoining tent, but there was no sound in that against which he lay. for an hour all was quiet. then he saw two white figures coming from mahmud's camp, which lay some fifty yards away. to his delight, they stopped at the entrance of the tent by which he was concealed, and one said: "i can well understand, ibrahim khalim, that your brother mahmud is sorely vexed that your father will not let him advance against the egyptians, at merawi. i fully share his feelings; for could i not, with my cavalry, sweep them before me into the river, even though no footmen came with me? according to accounts they are but two or three thousand strong, and i have as many horsemen under my command." "that is so, osman azrakyet. but methinks my father is right. if we were to march across the desert, we would lose very many men and great numbers of animals, and we should arrive weakened and dispirited. if we remain here, it is the egyptians who will have to bear the hardships of the march across the desert. great numbers of the animals that carry the baggage and food, without which the poor infidels are unable to march, would die, and the weakened force would be an easy prey for us." "that is true," the other said, "but they may come now, as they came to dongola, in their boats." "they have the cataracts to ascend, and the rapid currents of the nile at its full to struggle against. there is a strong force at abu hamed, and our governor at berber will move down there, with all his force, when he hears that the egyptians are coming up the cataracts. should it be the will of allah that they should pass them, and reach berber, we shall know how to meet them. mahmud has settled this evening that many strong forts are to be built on the river bank here, and if the infidels try to advance farther by water, they will be all sunk. "i agree with you and mahmud, and wish that it had been otherwise, and that we could hurl ourselves at once upon the egyptians and prevent their coming farther--but that would be but a partial success. if we wait, they will gather all their forces before they come, and we shall destroy them at one blow. then we shall seize all their stores and animals, cross the desert to dongola, march forward to assouan, and there wait till the khalifa brings his own army; and then who is to oppose us? we will conquer the land of the infidel. i am as eager for the day of battle as you are, but it seems to me that it is best to wait here, until the infidels come; and i feel that it is wise of the khalifa thus to order. now i will to my tent." as soon as ibrahim khalim had entered his tent, gregory crawled away, well satisfied that he had gained exactly the information he had come to gather. he had gone but a few paces when he saw a white figure striding along, in front of the tents. he stopped, and threw himself down. unfortunately, the path taken by the sheik was directly towards him. he heard the footsteps advancing, in hopes that the man would pass either in front or behind him. then he felt a sudden kick, an exclamation, and a heavy fall. he leapt to his feet, but the arab sheik was as quick and, springing up, also seized him, at the same time drawing his knife and uttering a loud shout. gregory grasped the arab's wrist, and without hesitation snatched his own knife from the sash, and drove it deep into his assailant's body. the latter uttered another loud cry for help, and a score of men rushed from behind the tents. gregory set off at the top of his speed, dashed over the brow of the bridge, and then, without entering the camp there, he kept along close to the crest, running at the top of his speed and wrapping his blanket as much as possible round him. he heard an outburst of yells behind, and felt sure that the sheik he had wounded had told those who had rushed up which way he had fled. with loud shouts they poured over the crest, and there were joined by others running up from the camp. when gregory paused for a moment, after running for three or four hundred yards, he could hear no sound of footsteps behind him. glancing round, he could not see white dresses in the darkness. turning sharply off, he recrossed the crest of the hill and, keeping close to it, continued his flight until well past the end of the camp. the alarm had by this time spread everywhere, and a wild medley of shouts rose throughout the whole area of the encampment. he turned now, and made for the spot where he had left zaki and the horses. in five minutes he reached it. "is that you, my lord?" zaki asked, as he came up. "yes, we must fly at once! i was discovered, and had to kill--or at least badly wound--a sheik, and they are searching for me everywhere." "i have saddled the horses, and put the water skins on them." "that is well done, zaki. let us mount and be off, at once. we will lead the horses. it is too dark to gallop among these bushes, and the sound of the hoofs might be heard. we will go quietly, till we are well away." not another word was spoken, till they had gone half a mile. "we will mount now, zaki. the horses can see better than we. we will go at a walk. i dare not strike a light to look at the compass, but there are the stars. i do not see the north star, it must be hidden by the mist, lower down; but the others give us the direction, quite near enough to go by. "it is most unfortunate that the fellow who rushed against me was a sheik. i could see that, by the outline of his robe. if it had been a common man, there would not have been any fuss over it. as it is, they will search for us high and low. i know he wasn't killed on the spot, for he shouted after i had left him; and they are likely to guess, from his account, that i had been down at one of the emirs' tents, and was probably a spy. "i know that i ought to have paused a moment, and given him another stab, but i could not bring myself to do it. it is one thing to stab a man who is trying to take one's life, but it is quite another when he has fallen, and is helpless." zaki had made no reply. he could scarcely understand his master's repugnance to making matters safe, when another blow would have done so, but it was not for him to blame. they travelled all night and, when the moon rose, were able to get along somewhat faster; but its light was now feeble and uncertain. as soon as day broke, they rode fast, and at ten o'clock had left behind the range of hills, stretching between the wells of abu klea and jebel sergain. "we ought to be safe now," gregory said, as they dismounted. "at any rate, the horses must have a rest. we have done over forty miles." "we are safe for the present, my lord. it all depends whether or not they think you are a spy. if they come to that conclusion, they will send at once to abu klea; and if a strong body is stationed there, they may have sent a party on to gakdul, or even to el howeyat, for they will feel sure that we shall make for one of the wells." "how much water have you got in the bags?" zaki examined them. "enough for ourselves for five or six days; but only enough for two drinks each, for the horses and for ourselves, for a couple of days." "that is bad. if we had had any idea of coming away so soon, we would have filled the large bags yesterday. i had intended to send down the horses in the morning, therefore left them only half full, and they must have leaked a good deal to get so low. see if one leaks more than the other." it was found that one held the water well, but from the other there was a steady drip. they transferred the water from this to the sound bag. "we must drink as little as we can, zaki, and give the horses only a mouthful, now and then, and let them munch the shrubs and get a little moisture from them. do you think there is any fear of the dervishes following our tracks?" "no, my lord. in the first place, they do not know that there are two of us, or that we are mounted. when those who camped near us notice, when they get up this morning, that we have moved; they will only think that we have shifted our camp, as there was no talk of horsemen being concerned in this affair. no, i do not think they will attempt to follow us, except along the caravan road, but i feel sure they will pursue us on that line." they rested for some hours, in the shade of a high rock, leaving the horses to pick what herbage they could find. at four o'clock they started again. they had ridden two hours, when zaki said: "see, my lord, there are two men on the top of jebel sergain!" gregory gazed in that direction. "yes, i can notice them now, but i should not have done so, if you had not seen them." "they are on watch, my lord." "well, they can hardly see us, at this distance." "you may be sure that they see us," zaki said; "the eyes of an arab are very keen, and could not fail to catch two moving objects--especially horsemen." "if they are looking for us, and have seen us, zaki, they would not be standing stationary there." "not if they were alone. but others may have been with them. when they first caught sight of us, which may have been half an hour ago, the others may have gone down to abu klea, while those two remained to watch which course we took. the arabs can signal with their lances, or with their horses, and from there they would be able to direct any party in pursuit of us." "well, we must keep on as hard as we can, till dark; after that, we can take it quietly. you see, the difficulty with us will be water. now that they have once made out two horsemen riding north, they must know that we have some special object in avoiding them; and will, no doubt, send a party to gakdul, if not farther." they crossed the rough country as quickly as they could, and then again broke into a canter. an hour later, as they crossed a slight rise, zaki looked back. "there are some horsemen in pursuit, my lord. they have evidently come from abu klea." gregory looked round. "there are about fifteen of them," he said. "however, they are a good three miles behind, and it will be dark in another half hour. as soon as it is so, we will turn off to the right or left, and so throw them off our track. don't hurry your horse. the animals have made a very long journey, since we started, and we shall want them badly tomorrow." in another half hour the sun went down. darkness comes on quickly in the soudan, and in another quarter of an hour they had lost sight of their pursuers, who had gained about a mile upon them. "another five minutes, zaki, to allow for their eyes being better than ours. which way do you think we had better turn?" "i should say to the left, my lord. there is another caravan route from metemmeh to ambukol. it cannot be more than fifteen miles to the west." "do you know anything about it?" "i have never been along there. it is a shorter route than the one to korti, but not so much used, i believe, because the wells cannot be relied upon." "well, i feel sure we shall not be able to get at the wells on the other line, so we had better take that. as we shall be fairly safe from pursuit, we may as well bear towards the northwest. by doing so we shall be longer in striking the track, but the journey will be a good bit shorter than if we were to ride due west. "now we can safely dismount. it is getting pitch dark, and we will lead our horses. i can feel that mine is nearly dead beat. in a few minutes we will halt, and give them half a gourd full of water, each. after that, we had better go on for another six or seven miles, so as to be well out of sight of anyone on the hills." ten minutes later they heard the dull sound of horses' hoofs on the sand. they waited five minutes, until it died away in the distance, and then continued their course. it was slow work, as they had to avoid every bush carefully; lest, if their pursuers halted, they should hear the crackling of a dry stick in the still air. zaki, who could see much better in the dark than his master, went on ahead; while gregory led the two horses. a good hour passed before they stopped. they gave the horses a scanty drink, and took a mouthful or two each; and then, throwing themselves down, allowed the horses to crop the scanty herbage. after four hours' halt they pursued their way on foot for three hours, laying their course by the stars. they calculated that they must have gone a good fifteen miles from the point where they turned off, and feared that they might miss the caravan track, if they went on before daybreak. chapter : safely back. as soon as the sun was up they pursued their journey, gregory's compass being now available. in half an hour, zaki said, "there is a sign of the track, my lord," and he pointed to the skeleton of a camel. "how many more miles do you think we have to go, zaki?" "we must be a good half way, my lord." "yes, quite that, i should think. looking at the map, i should say that we must be about abreast of the line of gakdul. this route is only just indicated, and there are no halting places marked upon it. still, there must be water, otherwise caravans could not use it. we have about sixty miles farther to go, so that if the horses were fresh we might be there this evening; but as it is, we have still two, if not three days' journey before us. "well, we must hope that we shall find some water. just let the horses wet their mouths; we can keep on for a bit, before we have a drink. "how much more is there left?" he asked, after the lad had given a little water to each horse. "not above two gourdfuls." "well, we must ride as far as we can and, at any rate, must keep one gourdful for tomorrow. if we cover twenty-five miles today--and i don't think the horses can do more--we can manage, if they are entirely done up, to walk the other thirty-five miles. however, as i said, there must be wells, and even if they are dry, we may be able to scratch the sand out and find a little water. what food have we got?" "only about two pounds of dates." "that is a poor supply for two days, zaki, but we must make the best of them. we will only eat a few today, so as to have a fair meal in the morning. we shall want it, if we have to walk thirty-five miles over the sand." "it will not be all sand," zaki said; "there is grass for the last fifteen miles, near the river; and there were cultivated fields about ten miles out, before the dervishes came." "that is better. now we will be moving." the herbage the horses had cropped during the halt had served, to a certain degree, to supply the place of water; and they proceeded at a brisker pace than gregory had expected. "keep a sharp lookout for water. even if the wells are dry, you will see a difference in the growth of the bushes round them; and as it is certain that this route has not been used for some time, there may even be grass." they rode on at an easy canter, and avoided pressing the horses in the slightest degree, allowing them to walk whenever they chose. the heat was very great, and after four hours' riding gregory called a halt. "we must have done twenty miles," he said. "the bushes look green about here, and the horses have got something of a feed." "i think this must be one of the old halting places," zaki said, looking round as they dismounted. "see, my lord, there are some broken gourds, and some rags scattered about." "so there are," gregory said. "we will take the bridles out of the horses' mouths, so that they can chew the leaves up better; and then we will see if we can find where the wells were." twenty yards farther away they found a deep hole. "this was one of them," the lad said, "but it is quite dry. see, there is an old bucket lying at the bottom. i will look about; there may be some more of them." two others were discovered, and the sand at the bottom of one of them looked a somewhat darker colour than the others. "well, we will dig here," gregory said. "bring down those two half gourds; they will help us to shovel the sand aside." the bottom of the hole was some six feet across, and they set to work in the middle of it. by the time they had got down two feet, the sand was soft and clammy. "we will get to water, zaki, if we have to stay here all day!" said gregory. it was hard work, and it was not until after four hours' toil that, to their delight, they found the sand wet under their feet. they had taken it by turns to use the scoop, for the labour of making the hole large enough for them both to work at once would have been excessive. in another hour there was half an inch of water in the hole. gregory took a gourd, and buried it in the soft soil until the water flowed in over the brim. "give me the other one down, zaki. i will fill that, too, and then we will both start drinking together." five minutes later, the two took a long draught. the scoops were then refilled and carried to the horses, who drank with an eagerness that showed how great was their thirst. three times the gourds were filled, and emptied. "now hand me down that water bag." this was half filled, and then, exhausted with their work, they threw themselves down and slept for some hours. when they awoke, the sun was setting. "bring up the horses, zaki. let them drink as much as they like." the gourds had each to be filled six times, before the animals were satisfied. the riders then took another deep drink, ate a handful of dates, and mounted. "we are safe now, and only have to fear a band of marauding arabs; and it would be hard luck, were we to fall in with them. we had better ride slowly for the first hour or so. we must not press the horses, after they have had such a drink." "very well, master." "there is no particular reason for hurry, and even if we miss the trail we know that, by keeping straight on, we shall strike the river somewhere near korti or ambukol." for an hour they went at a walk, and then the horses broke into their usual pace, of their own accord. it was getting dark, now, and soon even zaki could not make out the track. "the horses will keep to it, my lord," he said; "their sight is a great deal better than ours, and i dare say their smell may have something to do with it. besides, the track is clear of bushes, so we should know at once, if they strayed from it." they rode for five hours, and then felt that the horses were beginning to fag. "we will halt here," gregory said. "we certainly cannot be more than five-and-twenty miles from the river; and, if we start at dawn, shall be there before the heat of the day begins. we can have another handful of dates, and give the horses a handful each, and that will leave us a few for the morning." the horses, after being given the dates, were again turned loose; and it was not long before they were heard pulling the leaves off bushes. "our case is a good deal better this evening than it was yesterday," gregory said. "then it looked as if it would be rather a close thing, for i am sure the horses could not have gone much farther, if we had not found the water. i wish we had a good feed to give them." "they will do very well on the bushes, my lord. they get little else, when they are with the arabs; a handful of durra, occasionally, when they are at work; but at other times they only get what they can pick up. if their master is a good one, they may get a few dates. they will carry us briskly enough to the river, tomorrow." they did not talk long, and were soon sound asleep. zaki was the first to wake. "day is just breaking, master." "you don't say so!" gregory grumbled, sleepily. "it seems to me that we have only just lain down." they ate the remainder of their dates, took a drink of water, and gave two gourdfuls to the horses; and, in a quarter of an hour, were on their way again. they had ridden but two or three miles, when zaki exclaimed: "there are some horsemen!" "eight of them, zaki, and they are evidently riding to cut us off! as far as i can see, only four of them have guns; the others have spears. "i think we can manage them. with my breech-loader i can fire two shots to their one, and we have pistols, as well." the arabs drew up ahead of them, and remained quiet there until the others came to within fifty yards, and checked their horses. a man who appeared to be the leader of the party shouted the usual salutation, to which gregory replied. the leader said, "where are my friends going and why do they halt?" "we are on a mission. we wish to see if the infidels are still at ambukol." "for that you will not want guns," the man said, "and we need them badly. i beg of you to give them to us." "they may be of use to us. we may come upon infidel scouts." "nevertheless, my friends, you must hand them over to us. we are, as you see, eight, and you are only two. the law of the desert is that the stronger take, and the weaker lose." "it may be so, sometimes," gregory said quietly, "but not in this case. i advise you to ride your way, and we will ride ours." then he said to zaki, "dismount and stand behind your horse, and fire over the saddle; but don't fire the first shot now." he threw himself from his saddle. scarcely had he done so when four shots were fired, and gregory took a steady aim at the chief. the latter threw up his arms, and fell. with a yell of fury, the others dashed forward. zaki did not fire until they were within twenty yards, and directly afterwards gregory fired again. there were now but five assailants. "now for your pistols, zaki!" he cried, glancing round for the first time. he then saw why zaki had not fired when he first did so--his horse was lying dead in front of him, shot through the head. "stand by me! don't throw away a shot! you take the man on the other side of the horse. i will take the others." steadily the four pistols were fired. as the arabs rode up, two of them fell, and another was wounded. dismayed at the loss of so many of their number, the three survivors rode off at full speed. "are you hurt, zaki?" "a spear grazed my cheek, my lord; that is all. it was my own fault. i kept my last barrel too long. however, it tumbled him over. "are you hurt, master?" "i have got a ball in the shoulder. that fellow without a spear has got pistols, and fired just as i did; or rather, an instant before. that shook my aim, but he has a ball in him, somewhere. "just see if they have got some dates on their saddles," for the horses of the fallen men had remained by the side of their masters' bodies. "yes, my lord," zaki said, examining them. "two bags, nearly full." "that is satisfactory. pick out the best horse for yourself, and then we will ride on. but before we go, we will break the stocks of these four guns, and carry the barrels off, and throw them into the bushes, a mile or two away." as soon as this was done, they mounted and rode on. they halted in a quarter of an hour and, after gregory's arm had been bound tightly to his side with his sash, both they and their horses had a good meal of dates. then they rode on again, and in three hours saw some white tents ahead. there was a slight stir as they were seen coming, and a dozen black soldiers sprang up and ran forward, fixing bayonets as they did so. "we are friends!" gregory shouted, in arabic; and zaki repeated the shout in his own language. the soldiers looked doubtful, and stood together in a group. they knew that the dervishes were sometimes ready to throw away their own lives, if they could but kill some of their enemy. one of them shouted back, "stay where you are until i call an officer!" he went back to the tents, and returned with a white officer, whom gregory at once recognized as one of those who had come up with him from wady halfa. "leslie," he shouted in english, "will you kindly call off your soldiers? one of their muskets might go off, accidentally. i suppose you don't remember me. i am hilliard, who came up with you in the steamer." the officer had stopped in astonishment, at hearing this seeming dervish address him, by name, in english. he then advanced, giving an order to his men to fall back. "is it really you, hilliard?" he said, as he approached the horsemen, who were coming forward at a walk. "which of you is it? for i don't see any resemblance, in either of you." "it is i, leslie. i am not surprised that you don't know me." "but what are you masquerading for, in this dress; and where have you come from?" "perhaps i had better not say, leslie. i have been doing some scouting across the desert, with my boy here. we have had a long ride. in the first place, my arm wants attending to. i have a bullet in the shoulder. the next thing we need is something to eat; for the last three days we have had nothing but dates, and not too many of them. "is there any chance of getting taken up to merawi? we came down from there to korti, in a native vessel." "yes; a gunboat with some native craft will be going up this afternoon. i will give orders, at once, that your horses shall be put on board." when the ball had been extracted from his shoulder, and the wound dressed and bandaged by the surgeon in charge, gregory went up to the tents again, where he was warmly received by the three white officers of the negro regiment. breakfast already had been prepared, zaki being handed over to the native officers. after having made a hearty meal, gregory related the adventure with the arabs in the desert, merely saying that they had found there were no dervishes at gakdul. "but why didn't you go straight back, instead of coming down here?" "i wanted to see whether this line was open, and whether there were any wells on it. we only found one, and it took us four or five hours' hard work to get at the water. it is lucky, indeed, that we did so; for our horses were getting very done up, and i had begun to think that they would not reach our destination alive." in the afternoon, the adventurers started with the boats going up to merawi and, the next morning, arrived at the camp. the dervish patches had been removed from their clothes, as soon as they arrived at ambukol. gregory could have borrowed a white suit there; but as the stain on his skin, although somewhat lighter than when first put on, was too dark, he declined the offer. "no one may notice me as i land, now," he said, "but everyone would stare at a man with a brown face and white uniform." leaving zaki to get the horses on shore, gregory went straight to the general's quarters. he told the sentry that he wished to see the general, on business. "you cannot go in," the man said. "the general is engaged." "if you send in word to him that his messenger has returned, i am sure he will see me." "you can sit down here, then," the sentry said. "when the officer with him comes out, i will give your message to his orderly." gregory, however, was in no humour to be stopped; and in an authoritative voice called, "orderly!" a soldier came down directly from the guard room. "tell the general, at once, that mr. hilliard has returned." with a look of wonder, the orderly went into the tent. half a minute later, he returned. "you are to come in," he said. as the general had seen gregory in his disguise, before starting, he of course recognized him. "my dear hilliard," he said, getting up and shaking him cordially by the hand, "i am heartily glad to see you back. you have been frequently in my thoughts; and though i had every confidence in your sharpness, i have regretted, more than once, that i allowed you to go. "i suppose you failed to get there. it is hardly possible that you should have done so, in the time. i suppose, when you got to gakdul, you learned that the dervishes were at abu klea." "they were at abu klea, general; but i made a detour, and got into their camp at metemmeh." "you did, and have returned safely! i congratulate you, most warmly. "i told you, macdonald," he said, turning to the officer with whom he had been engaged, "that i had the greatest hope that mr. hilliard would get through. he felt so confident in himself that i could scarce help feeling confidence in him, too." "he has done well, indeed!" colonel macdonald said. "i should not have liked to send any of my officers on such an adventure, though they have been here for years." "well, will you sit down, mr. hilliard," the general said, "and give us a full account? in the first place, what you have learned? and in the second, how you have learned it?" gregory related the conversations he had heard among the soldiers; and then that of mahmud's brother and the commander of the dervish cavalry. then he described the events of his journey there, his narrow escape from capture, and the pursuit by the dervishes at abu klea; how he gave them the slip, struck the ambukol caravan road, had a fight with a band of robber arabs, and finally reached the egyptian camp. "an excellently managed business!" the general said, warmly. "you have certainly had some narrow escapes, and seem to have adopted the only course by which you could have got off safely. the information you have brought is of the highest importance. i shall telegraph, at once, to the sirdar that there will assuredly be no advance on the part of mahmud from metemmeh; which will leave him free to carry out the plans he has formed. i shall of course, in my written despatch, give him full particulars of the manner in which i have obtained that information." "it was a very fine action," macdonald agreed. "the lad has shown that he has a good head, as well as great courage. "you will make your way, mr. hilliard--that is, if you don't try this sort of thing again. a man may get through it once, but it would be just tempting providence to try it a second time." "now, mr. hilliard," the general said, "you had best go to your quarters. i will ask the surgeon to attend to you, at once. you must keep quiet, and do no more duty until you are discharged from the sick list." ten days later, orders were issued that the brigade under macdonald; consisting of the rd egyptians, and the th, th, and th soudanese, together with a mule battery; were to move forward the next day to kassinger, the advanced post some ten miles higher up the river. this seemed only a preliminary step, and the general opinion was that another fortnight would elapse before there would be a general movement. a reconnaissance with friendly arabs had, however, been made ahead towards abu hamed, and had obtained certain information that the garrison at that place was by no means a strong one. the information gregory had gathered had shown that mahmud had no intention of advancing against merawi; and that no reinforcements had, as yet, started to join the force at abu hamed; the dervish leader being convinced that the nile was not yet high enough to admit of boats going up the cataract. thus, everything favoured the sirdar's plan to capture abu hamed, and enable the railway to be constructed to that place before mahmud could receive the news that the troops were in motion. he therefore directed general hunter to push forward, with only one brigade, leaving the rest to hold merawi; and ordered the camel corps, and the friendly arabs, to advance across the desert as far as the gakdul wells, where their appearance would lead mahmud to believe that they were the advance guard of the coming army. two days later gregory, on going to the headquarters tent, was told that general hunter and his staff would start, in an hour's time, to inspect the camp at kassinger. "do you think you are fit to ride?" the chief of the staff asked him. "perfectly, sir. the doctor discharged me yesterday as fit for duty, but advised me to keep my arm in a sling, for a time." "in that case, you may accompany us. "it is a little uncertain when we shall return," the officer said, with a smile; "therefore i advise you to take all your belongings with you. have them packed up quietly. we do not wish any suspicions to arise that we are not returning this evening." "thank you, sir!" gregory said, gratefully. "i shall be ready to start in an hour." he returned in high glee to his hut, for he felt certain that an immediate advance was about to take place. "zaki," he said, "i am going to ride with the general; and, as it is possible i may be stationed at kassinger for a short time, you had better get the camel brought up, and start as soon as you have packed the things on it. i am going to ride over with the staff, in an hour, and shall overtake you by the way. how long will you be?" "half an hour, bey." "i will be there by that time, and will take my horse; then you can go on with the camel." behind the headquarter camp the work of packing up was also going on; the camels being sent off in threes and fours, as they were laden, so as to attract no attention. half an hour later the general came out, and without delay started with the staff, captain fitton remaining behind to see that the rest of the stores were sent off, and a small tent for the use of the general. all heavy packages were to be taken up by water. the arrival of the general at kassinger excited no surprise, as he had ridden over the day before; but when, in the afternoon, orders were issued that the camels should all be laden, in preparation for a march that evening; the soudanese could with difficulty be restrained from giving vent to their exuberant joy that, at length, their long halt was at an end, and they were to have another chance of getting at the enemy. a large train of camels had been quietly collected at kassinger, sufficient to carry the necessary supplies for the use of the column, for some three weeks' time; and it was hoped that, before long, the gunboats and many of the native craft, with stores, would join them at abu hamed. the force started at sunset. the distance to be travelled was a hundred and eighteen miles, and the road was a very difficult one. the ground rose steeply, almost from the edge of the river; and at times had to be traversed in single file. as night came on, the scene was a weird one. on one side the rocky ascent rose, black and threatening. on the other, the river rushed foaming, only broken by the rocks and little islands of the cataract. gregory had been ordered to remain with the camel train; to keep them, as much as possible, together, and prevent wide gaps from occurring in the ranks. it was tedious work; and the end of the train did not arrive, until broad daylight, at the spot where the infantry halted. he at once told zaki to pitch his little tent, which he had already shown him how to do, while he went to see if there were any orders at headquarters. he found the staff were just sitting down to a rough breakfast. being told, after the meal, that he would not be wanted during the day; but that at night he was to continue his work with the camels; he went back to his tent, and threw himself on his bed. but, in spite of the fly being fastened up, and a blanket thrown over the tent, the heat was so great that he was only able to doze off occasionally. he observed that even the black troops suffered from the heat. they had erected screens, with their blankets placed end to end, supported by their guns; and lay there, getting what air there was, and sheltered from the direct rays of the sun. few slept. most of them talked, or smoked. there was some argument, among the officers, as to the relative advantages of night and day marches. all agreed that, if only one march had to be done, it was better to do it at night; but when, as in the present case, it would last for seven or eight days, many thought that, terrible as would be the heat, it would be better to march in the day, and permit the troops to sleep at night. this opinion certainly seemed to be justified; for, at the end of the third day, the men were so completely worn out from want of sleep that they stumbled as they marched; and were with difficulty restrained from throwing themselves down, to get the much-needed rest. gregory always went down, as soon as the column arrived at its halting place, as he did before starting in the evening, to bathe in some quiet pool or backwater; and, much as he had set himself against taking spirits, he found that he was unable to eat his meals, unless he took a spoonful or two with his water, or cold tea. on the evening of the third day, they passed the battlefield of kirkeban, where general earle fell when the river expedition was attacked by the dervishes. next day they halted at hebbeh, where colonel stewart, on his way down with a number of refugees from khartoum, was treacherously murdered. a portion of the steamer was still visible in the river. day after day the column plodded on, for the most part strung out in single file, the line extending over many miles; and, late on the evening of the th of august, they reached a spot within a mile and a half of abu hamed, the hundred and eighteen miles having been accomplished in seven days and a half. so far as they knew, the enemy had, as yet, received no news of their approach. three hours' rest was given the troops, and then they marched out, in order of battle. a fair idea of the position had been obtained from the friendly natives. abu hamed lay on the river. the desert sloped gradually down to it, on all sides; with a sharp, deep descent within two hundred yards of the town. the houses were all loopholed, for defence. when within a mile of the town, they must have been sighted by the dervish sentries on a lofty watchtower. no movement, however, was visible, and there was a general feeling of disappointment, as the impression gained ground that the enemy had retreated. the th and th soudanese made a sweep round, to attack from the desert side. the th, and half of the egyptian battalion--the other half having been left to guard the baggage--followed the course of the river. major kincaid rode forward, to the edge of the steep slope that looked down to the town. he could see no one moving about. the dervish trenches, about eighty yards away, appeared empty; and he was about to write a message to the general, saying that the place was deserted, when a sharp fire suddenly opened upon him. he turned to ride back to warn the general, but he was too late; for, at the same moment, hunter with his staff galloped up to the edge of the slope, and was immediately saluted by a heavy volley; which, however, was fired so wildly that none of the party was hit. the artillery were now ordered to bombard the place. at first, they could only fire at the tops of the houses; but, changing their position, they found a spot where they could command the town. for half an hour this continued. the infantry were drawn up just beyond the brow, where they could not be seen by the defenders. the dervishes gave no signs of life, and as the artillery could not depress their guns sufficiently to enable them to rake the trenches, the infantry were ordered to charge. as soon as they reached the edge of the dip, a storm of musketry broke out from the dervish trenches, but, fortunately, the greater portion of the bullets flew overhead. macdonald had intended to carry the place at the point of the bayonet, without firing; but the troops, suddenly exposed to such a storm of musketry, halted and opened fire without orders; the result being that they suffered a great deal more than they would have done, had they crossed the eighty yards, which divided them from the trench, by a rush. standing, as they did, against the skyline, the dervishes were able to pick them off; they themselves showing only their heads above the trenches. two of the mounted officers of the th were killed, and two had their horses shot under them. macdonald and his officers rushed along in front of the line, knocking up the men's muskets; and abusing them, in the strongest terms, for their disobedience to orders. the moment the fire ceased, the troops rushed forward; and the dervishes at once abandoned their trenches, and ran back to the line of houses. these were crowded together, divided by narrow winding lanes, and here a desperate struggle took place. the dervishes defended themselves with the greatest tenacity, sometimes rushing out and hurling themselves upon their assailants, and defending the houses to the last, making a stand when the doors were burst open, until the last of the inmates were either shot or bayoneted. so determined was the defense of some of the larger houses, that it was necessary to bring up the guns and batter an entrance. many of the houses were found, when the troops burst in, to be tenanted only by dead; for the soudanese always heralded their attack by firing several volleys, and the bullets made their way through and through the mud walls, as if they had been paper. about seventy or eighty horsemen and a hundred dervish infantry escaped, but the rest were either killed or made prisoners, together with mahomed zein, the governor. a quantity of arms, camels, and horses were also captured. the loss on our side was two british officers killed, and twenty-one of the black troops; and three egyptian officers, and sixty-one men wounded. when the convoy halted, previous to the troops marching to the attack, gregory, whose duties with the baggage had now ended, joined the general's staff and rode forward with them. hunter had glanced round, as he rode up, and answered with a nod when he saluted, and asked if he could come. he felt rather scared on the dervishes opening fire so suddenly, when the general's impatience had led him to ride forward, without waiting for major kincaid's report. after the troops rushed into the town, the general maintained his position at the edge of the dip, for the narrow streets were so crowded with men that a group of horsemen could hardly have forced their way in, and it would be impossible to see what was going on, and to issue orders. mahomed zein had not followed the example of some of his followers, and died fighting to the last. he was found hiding under a bed, and was brought before general hunter; who asked him why he fought, when he must have known that it was useless; to which he replied: "i knew that you had only three times as many as i had, and every one of my men is worth four of yours. you could not fire till you were quite close up, and at that range our rifles are as good as yours." the general asked what he thought mahmud would do, to which he replied: "he will be down here in five days, and wipe you out!" it was necessary to halt at abu hamed, until stores came up. captain keppel, royal navy, and the officers commanding the gunboats were toiling at the cataracts to bring them up. nevertheless one of these was capsized, and only three got through safely. major pink, with a large number of troops from merawi, succeeded in hauling the sailing boats through. a large column of laden camels was, at the same time, being pushed forward by the caravan route from korosko. it was a time of much anxiety, till stores began to arrive; for, had mahmud advanced at once, the passage up the river would have been arrested, and the land column cut off; in which case the little force would have been reduced to sore straits, as they must have stood on the defensive until reinforcements reached them. there was, too, some anxiety as to the safety of the forces at ambukol and korti; for mahmud, on learning that the garrisons had been weakened by the despatch of troops to abu hamed, might have crossed the desert with all his force and fallen upon them. mahmud had indeed, as it turned out, believed that the expedition to abu hamed was only undertaken to cover the flank of the egyptian army from attack, from that quarter; and still believed that it was from merawi that the main british force would advance against him. before the supplies had all arrived, the position changed; as news came that berber was being evacuated by the dervishes. the information was telegraphed to the sirdar, who at once ordered that a force of the friendly arabs, escorted by a gunboat, should go up to berber to find if the news was true. one gunboat had already arrived, and general hunter decided on going up in her himself. two hundred of the arabs, under ahmed bey, were to ride along the bank. they were to be mounted on the fastest camels that could be picked out; so that, if they encountered the dervishes, they would have a fair chance of escaping, and getting under cover of the gunboat's fire. "mr. hilliard," the general said, "i shall be obliged if you will accompany ahmed bey. the arabs are always more steady, if they have an english officer with them. they will be ready to start in an hour. a signaller from the th soudanese shall go with you; and you can notify, to us, the approach of any strong party of the enemy, and their direction; so that the gunboat can send a shell or two among them, as a hint that they had better keep out of range." as his baggage camel was by no means a fast one, gregory at first decided to leave it behind in charge of zaki; but on going across to the arab camp, ahmed bey at once offered to place a fast one at his disposal. he accordingly sent his own animal into the transport yard, committed the heavy wooden case, with the greater portion of his remaining stores, to the charge of the sergeant of the mess, retaining only three or four tins of preserved milk, some tea, four or five tins of meat, a bottle of brandy, and a few other necessaries. to these were added half a sheep and a few pounds of rice. these, with his tent and other belongings, were packed on the arab camel; and zaki rode beside it with great satisfaction, for he had been greatly cast down when his master first told him that he would have to remain behind. all the preparations were made in great haste, but they were completed just as ahmed bey moved out of his camp, with his two hundred picked men and camels. five minutes later, a whistle from the steamer told them that general hunter, and the party with him, were also on the point of starting. the distance to be traversed to berber was a hundred and thirty miles, and the expedition was undoubtedly a hazardous one. even if the news was true, that the five thousand dervishes who had been holding berber had evacuated the town, it was quite possible that a part of the force had been sent down the river, to oppose any advance that might be made; or, if unable to do this, to carry the news of the advance to mahmud. the arabs were to keep abreast of the gunboat; and would, where the shores were flat, be covered by its guns. but at spots where the ground was high and precipitous, this assistance could scarcely avail them in case of an attack, unless the hundred soldiers on board the steamer could be landed. as they rode along, ahmed bey explained to gregory the plan that he should adopt, if they were attacked in such a position, and found their retreat cut off. "the camels will all be made to lie down, and we shall fight behind them, as in an entrenchment. my men are all armed with rifles the government has given them, and we could beat off an attack by a great number; while, if we were on our camels and pursued, we should soon lose all order, and our shooting would be bad." "i think that would be by far the best plan, sheik. your two hundred men, and the hundred the gunboat could land, ought to be able to make a tough fight of it, against any number of the enemy. "how long do you think we shall be, on the way?" "about four days. the camels can easily travel thirty-five miles a day. we have six days' provisions with us, in case the gunboat cannot make its way up. fortunately we have not to carry water, so that each camel only takes twenty pounds of food, for its rider; and forty pounds of grain, for itself. if we were pursued, we could throw that away, as we should only have to ride to some point where the gunboat could protect us. we could not hope to escape by speed, for the dervishes could ride and run quite as fast as the camels could go." chapter : afloat. the first three days' journey passed without any adventure. from the natives who still remained in the little villages they passed, they learned that the report that the dervishes had left berber was generally believed; but whether they had marched for metemmeh, or for some other point, was unknown. the people were delighted to see the gunboat; as, until its arrival, they had been in hourly fear of raiding parties. they had heard of the capture of abu hamed, by the british, from horsemen who had escaped; but all these had said, confidently, that mahmud would speedily drive them out again; and they had been in hourly fear that the dervishes would swoop down upon them, and carry off the few possessions still remaining to them. when within thirty miles of berber the arabs had halted on the bank, watching the gunboat as, with great difficulty, it made its way up a cataract. suddenly it was seen to stop, and a great bustle was observed on board. an exclamation of grief burst from the arabs. "she has struck on a rock!" ahmed bey exclaimed. "i am afraid she has," said gregory; who had, all along, ridden by his side at the head of the party. "i am afraid so. i hope she is not injured." unfortunately, the damage was serious. a hole had been knocked through her side, under water, and the water poured in, in volumes. a rush was made by those on board; and beds, pillows, and blankets were stuffed into the hole. this succeeded, to some extent, and she was brought alongside the bank. the sheik and gregory went down to meet her. general hunter came to the side. "a large hole has been knocked in her," he said, to the sheik. "we shall have to get the guns and stores on shore, to lighten her; and then heel her over, to get at the hole. it will certainly take two or three days; by that time, i hope, the other gunboat will be up. "in the meantime, you must go on to berber. i think there can be no doubt that the dervishes have all left, but it is most important that we should know it, for certain. you must push straight on, and as soon as you arrive there, send word on to me by the fastest camel you have. if you are attacked, you will, of course, defend yourselves. take up a position close to the river, and hold it until you are relieved. if you can send off news to me by a camel, do so; if not, seize a boat--there are some at every village--and send the news down by water. i will come on at once, with everyone here, to assist you." "i will do as you order," the sheik said; "and if you see us no more, you will know that we died as brave men." "i hope there is no fear of that," the general said, cheerfully. "you will defend yourselves as brave men if you are attacked, i am sure; but as i am convinced that the dervishes have left berber, i think there is little fear of your falling in with them." then he went on, in english, to gregory. "keep them moving, mr. hilliard. let them go as fast as they can. they are less likely to get nervous, if they are riding hard, than they would be if they dawdled along. if they press their camels, they will be in berber this afternoon. see that a man starts at once, to bring me the news." "very well, sir. i will keep them at it, if i can." the sheik rejoined his band, which gathered round to hear the result of his interview with the white general. "the steamer is injured," he said, "but she will soon be made right, and will follow us. we are to have the honour of going on and occupying berber, and will show ourselves worthy of it. there is little chance of our meeting the dervishes. had they been in berber, we should have heard of them before this. if we meet them we will fight; and you, abu, who have the fastest camel among us, will ride back here at all speed, and the general and his soldiers will come up to help us. "now, let us not waste a moment, but push forward. in five hours we shall be at berber; and throughout your lives, you will be proud to say that you were the first to enter the town that the dervishes have so long held." a few of the men waved their guns, and shouted. the rest looked grave. however, they obeyed their chief's orders, and the cavalcade at once started. as they did so, gregory drew his horse up alongside zaki. "look here," he said, "if we see the dervishes coming in force, i shall come to you, at once. you shall take my horse, it is faster than yours. i shall give you a note for the general, and you will ride back at full gallop, and give it to him. the horse is fast, and there will be no fear of their catching you, even if they chase; which they will not be likely to do, as they will be thinking of attacking us." "very well, master. i will do as you order me, but i would rather stop and fight, by your side." "that you may be able to do some other time, zaki. this time, you have got to fetch aid." then he rode on to join the chief. there was no talking along the line, every man had his rifle unslung and in his hand, every eye scanned the country. hitherto, they had had unlimited faith in the power of the gunboat to protect them; now that they might have to face the dervishes unaided, they felt the danger a serious one. they had come to fight the dervishes, and were ready to do so, in anything like equal numbers; but the force they might meet would possibly be greatly stronger than their own--so strong that, although they might sell their lives dearly; they would, in the end, be overpowered. for the first three hours, the camels were kept going at the top of their speed; but as they neared berber, there was a perceptible slackness. ahmed bey and gregory rode backwards and forwards along the line, keeping them together, and encouraging them. "we shall get in without fighting," the bey said. "we should have heard before this, had they been there. do you think that they would have remained so long in the town, if they had learned that there are but two hundred of us, and one steamer? mahmud would never have forgiven them, had they not fallen upon us and annihilated us. i only hope that two hundred will have been left there. it will add to our glory, to have won a battle, as well as taken the town. your children will talk of it in their tents. your women will be proud of you, and the men of the black regiments will say that we have shown ourselves to be as brave as they are. "we will halt for half an hour, rest the camels, and then push on at full speed again; but mind, you have my orders: if you should see the enemy coming in force, you are to ride at once to the river bank, dismount, and make the camels lie down in a semicircle; then we have but to keep calm, and shoot straight, and we need not fear the dervishes, however many of them there may be." after the halt they again pushed forward. gregory saw, with pleasure, that the arabs were now thoroughly wound up to fighting point. the same vigilant watch was kept up as before; but the air of gloom that had hung over them, when they first started, had now disappeared; each man was ready to fight to the last. as the town was seen, the tension was at its highest; but the pace quickened, rather than relaxed. "now is the moment!" the bey shouted. "if they are there, they will come out to fight us. if, in five minutes, they do not appear; it will be because they have all gone." but there were no signs of the enemy, no clouds of dust rising in the town, that would tell of a hasty gathering. at last, they entered a straggling street. the women looked timidly from the windows; and then, on seeing that their robes did not bear the black patches worn by the dervishes, they broke into loud cries of welcome. "are the dervishes all gone?" ahmed bey asked, reining in his camel. "they are all gone. the last left four days ago." the sheik waved his rifle over his head; and his followers burst into loud shouts of triumph, and pressed on, firing their muskets in the air. as they proceeded, the natives poured out from their houses in wild delight. the arabs kept on, till they reached the house formerly occupied by the egyptian governor. "i should say that you had better take possession of this, bey. there seems to be a large courtyard, where you can put your camels. it is not likely that the dervishes will return, but it is as well to be prepared. the house is strong, and we could hold out here against a host, unless they were provided with cannon. "i have money, and you had better buy up as much food as possible, so that we could stand a siege for some time. i shall give my horse a good feed and an hour's rest, and then send my man down to the general, telling him that the dervishes have deserted the town, and that we have taken possession of the place, and can defend it for a long time should they return." an hour later, zaki started with gregory's report. the inhabitants, finding that they would be paid, brought out their hidden stores; and by evening, enough was collected to last the garrison ten days. zaki returned at noon next day, with a letter from general hunter to the sheik, praising him highly for the energy and courage of his men and himself. he also brought a note for gregory, saying that he hoped to get the repairs finished the next day; and that he expected, by that time, the other two steamers would be up, when he should at once advance to berber. on the third day the smoke of the steamers was seen in the distance; and an hour later the gunboats arrived, and were greeted with cries of welcome by the natives, who thronged the bank. the three boats carried between three and four hundred men. these were disembarked on an island, opposite the town, and the gunboats moored alongside. general hunter at once landed, with those of his staff who had accompanied him. he shook hands, very cordially, with the sheik. "you have done well, indeed!" he said. "it was a dangerous enterprise and, had i not known your courage, and that of your men, i should not have ventured to send you forward. you have fully justified my confidence in you. "in the first place, i will go and see the house you have occupied. i shall leave you still in possession of it, but i do not intend that you should hold it. in case mahmud comes down upon you, at once embark in boats, and cross to the islands. it will be some time before i can gather, here, a force strong enough to hold the town against attack. indeed, it will probably be some weeks; for, until the railway is finished to abu hamed, i can only get up stores sufficient for the men here; certainly we have no transport that could keep up the supply for the whole force. however, all this will be settled by the sirdar, who will very shortly be with us." it was now the th of september and, the same afternoon, two gunboats were sent up to ed damer, an important position lying a mile or two beyond the junction of atbara river with the nile. on the opposite bank of the nile, they found encamped the dervishes who had retired from berber. the guns opened fire upon them, and they retired inland; leaving behind them fourteen large boats, laden with grain. these were at once sent down to berber, where they were most welcome; and a portion of the grain was distributed among the almost starving population, nearly five thousand in number, principally women and children. supplies soon began to arrive from below, being brought up in native craft, from abu hamed, as far as the cataract; then unloaded and carried up past the rapids on camels; then again placed in boats, and so brought to berber. macdonald's brigade started a fortnight after the occupation, their place at abu hamed having been taken by a brigade from kassinger, each battalion having towed up boats carrying two months' supply of provisions. a fort was now erected at the junction of the two rivers, and occupied by a small force, under an english officer. two small steamers were employed in towing the native craft from abu hamed to berber. still, it was evident that it would be impossible to accumulate the necessary stores for the whole force that would take the field; accordingly, as soon as the railway reached abu hamed, the sirdar ordered it to be carried on as far as berber. he himself came up with colonel wingate, the head of the intelligence department; and, diligently as all had worked before, their exertions were now redoubled. on the morning after the sirdar's arrival, an orderly came across to general hunter's quarters, with a request that mr. hilliard should at once be sent to headquarters. gregory had to wait nearly half an hour, until the officers who had been there before him had had their audience, and received their orders. he was then shown in. "you have done very valuable service, mr. hilliard," the sirdar said. "exceptionally valuable, and obtained at extraordinary risk. i certainly did not expect, when i saw you a few months ago in cairo, that you would so speedily distinguish yourself. i was then struck with your manner, and thought that you would do well, and you have much more than fulfilled my expectations. i shall keep my eye upon you, and shall see that you have every opportunity of continuing as you have begun." that evening, general hunter suggested to colonel wingate that gregory should be handed over to him. "there will be nothing for him to do with me, at present," he said; "and i am sure that you will find him very useful. putting aside the expedition he undertook to metemmeh, he is a most zealous young officer. although his wound was scarcely healed, he took charge of the baggage animals on the way up from merawi to abu hamed, and came forward here with ahmed bey and his followers, and in both cases he was most useful. but at the present, i cannot find any employment for him." "i will have a talk with him," colonel wingate said. "i think i can make good use of him. captain keppel asked me, this morning, if i could furnish him with a good interpreter. he is going up the river in a day or two, and as neither he nor the other naval officers know much arabic, mr. hilliard would be of considerable service to them, in questioning any prisoners who may be captured as to hidden guns, or other matters. i should think, from what you tell me, mr. hilliard will be very suitable for the post." "the very man for it. he is a very pleasant lad--for he is not more than that--quiet and gentlemanly, and yet full of life and go, and will be certain to get on well with a naval man." on returning to his quarters, general hunter sent for gregory. "you will please go to colonel wingate, mr. hilliard. i have been speaking to him about you; and, as it may be months before things are ready for the final advance, and i am sure you would prefer to be actively employed, i proposed to him that he should utilize your services; and it happens, fortunately, that he is able to do so. the gunboats will be running up and down the river, stirring up the dervishes at metemmeh and other places; and as neither keppel, nor the commanders of the other two boats can speak arabic with anything like fluency, it is important that he should have an interpreter. "i think you will find the berth a pleasant one. of course, i don't know what arrangements will be made, or whether you would permanently live on board one of the boats. if so, i think you would be envied by all of us, as you would get away from the dust, and all the discomforts of the encampment." "thank you very much, sir! it would indeed be pleasant, and i was beginning to feel that i was very useless here." "you have not been useless at all, mr. hilliard. the sirdar asked me about you, and i was able to give him a very favourable report of your readiness to be of service, for whatever work i have found for you to do. i have told him that i had great doubts whether ahmed bey would have pushed forward to this place, after he had lost the protection of the gunboats, if you had not been with him." gregory at once went to the quarters of colonel wingate, and sent in his name. in two or three minutes he was shown in. a naval officer was in the room with the colonel. "you have come at the right time, mr. hilliard. i was just speaking of you to captain keppel. i suppose general hunter has told you how i proposed utilizing your services?" "yes, sir, he was good enough to tell me." "you speak both arabic and the negro dialect perfectly, i am told?" "i speak them very fluently, almost as well as english." "just at present, you could not be of much use to me, mr. hilliard. of course, i get all my intelligence from natives, and have no occasion to send white officers out as scouts. otherwise, from the very favourable report that i have received from general hunter, i should have been glad to have you with me; but i have no doubt that you would prefer to be in one of the gunboats. they are certain to have a more stirring time of it, for the next few weeks, than we shall have here." "i should like it greatly, sir, if captain keppel thinks i shall do." "i have no doubt about that," the officer said, with a smile. "i shall rate you as a first lieutenant and midshipman, all in one; and i may say that i shall be very glad to have a white officer with me. there are one or two spare cabins, aft, and you had better have your traps moved in, at once. i may be starting tomorrow." "shall i take my servant with me, sir?" "yes, you may take him if you like. i suppose you have a horse?" "yes, sir, a horse and a camel; but i shall have no difficulty in managing about them. excuse my asking, sir, but i have a few stores. shall i bring them on board?" "no, there is no occasion for that. you will mess with me. thank goodness, we left naval etiquette behind us when we came up the nile, and it is not imperative that i should dine in solitary state. besides, you have been on hunter's staff, have you not?" "yes." "i know his staff all mess together. i shall be very glad to have you with me. it is lonely work, always messing alone. "my boat is the zafir, you know. you had better come on board before eight o'clock, tomorrow morning. that is my breakfast hour." gregory needed but little time to make his arrangements. the transport department took over zaki's horse and camel, and gave him a receipt for them; so that, when he returned, those or others could be handed over to him. one of the staff, who wanted a second horse, was glad to take charge of his mount. the tent, and the big case, and his other belongings were handed over to the stores. zaki was delighted, when he heard that he was going up in a gunboat that would probably shell metemmeh, and knock some of the dervish fortifications to pieces. "what shall i have to do, master?" he asked. "not much, zaki. you will brush my clothes, and make my bed, and do anything that i want done; but beyond that i cannot tell you. i am really taking you, not because i think you will be of much use, but because i like to have you with me. besides, i sha'n't have much to do, and the english officer who commands will have plenty to look after, so that i shall be glad to talk, occasionally, with you. "however, as i know the gunboats carry maxim guns, and each have two sergeants of the marine artillery, i will hand you over to them, and ask them to put you in the maxim crew. then you will have the satisfaction of helping to fire at your old enemies." zaki's eyes glistened at the prospect. "they killed my mother," he said, "and carried off my sisters, and burned our house. it will be good to fire at them. much better this, bey, than to load stores at merawi." gregory was much gratified, that evening after mess, at the kindly manner in which the members of the staff all shook hands with him, and said that they were sorry that he was going to leave them. general hunter was dining with the sirdar. the next morning, when gregory went to say "goodbye" to him, he said: "i was telling sir herbert kitchener, yesterday evening, that you were transferred to the naval branch. he said: "'the gunboats will all take up troops, and there will be native officers on board. it is a rule in our army, you know, that all white officers have the honorary rank of major, so as to make them senior to all egyptian officers. will you tell mr. hilliard that i authorize him to call himself bimbashi? there is no occasion to put it in orders. my authorization is sufficient. as long as he was on your staff it did not matter; but as, presently, he may be attached to an egyptian regiment, it is as well that he should bear the usual rank, and it may save misunderstanding in communicating with the natives. he will be much more respected, as bimbashi, than he would be as lieutenant, a title that they would not understand.' "a good many lieutenants in the british army are bimbashis, here, so that there is nothing unusual in your holding that honorary rank." "i would just as soon be lieutenant, sir, so far as i am concerned myself; but of course, i feel honoured at receiving the title. no doubt it would be much more pleasant, if i were attached to an egyptian regiment. i do not know whether it is the proper thing to thank the sirdar. if it is, i shall be greatly obliged if you will convey my thanks to him." "i will tell him that you are greatly gratified, hilliard. i have no doubt you owe it, not only to your ride to metemmeh, but to my report that i did not think ahmed bey would have ventured to ride on into berber, had you not been with him; and that you advised him as to the defensive position he took up here, and prepared for a stout defence, until the boats could come up to his assistance. he said as much to me." at the hour named, gregory went on board the zafir; zaki accompanying him, with his small portmanteau and blanket. "i see you are punctual, mr. hilliard," the commander said, cheerily; "a great virtue everywhere, but especially on board ship, where everything goes by clockwork. eight bells will sound in two minutes, and as they do so, my black fellow will come up and announce the meal. it is your breakfast, as much as mine; for i have shipped you on the books this morning, and of course you will be rationed. happily, we are not confined to that fare. i knew what it was going to be, and laid in a good stock of stores. fortunately, we have the advantage over the military, that we are not limited as to baggage." the breakfast was an excellent one. after it was over, commander keppel asked gregory how it was that he had--while still so young--obtained a commission, and expressed much interest when he had heard his story. "then you do not intend to remain in the egyptian army?" he said. "if you have not any fixed career before you, i should have thought that you could not do better. the sirdar and general hunter have both taken a great interest in you. it might be necessary, perhaps, for you to enter the british army and serve for two or three years, so as to get a knowledge of drill and discipline; then, from your acquaintance with the languages here you could, of course, get transferred to the egyptian army, where you would rank as a major, at once." "i have hardly thought of the future yet, sir; but of course, i shall have to do so, as soon as i am absolutely convinced of my father's death. really, i have no hope now; but i promised my mother to do everything in my power to ascertain it, for a certainty. she placed a packet in my hands, which was not to be opened until i had so satisfied myself. i do not know what it contains, but i believe it relates to my father's family. "i do not see that that can make any difference to me, for i certainly should not care to go home to see relations to whom my coming might be unwelcome. i should greatly prefer to stay out here, for a few years, until i had obtained such a position as would make me absolutely independent of them." "i can quite understand that," captain keppel said. "poor relations seldom get a warm welcome, and as you were born in alexandria, they may be altogether unaware of your existence. you have certainly been extremely fortunate, so far; and if you preferred a civil appointment, you would be pretty certain of getting one when the war is over. "there will be a big job in organizing this country, after the dervishes are smashed up; and a biggish staff of officials will be wanted. no doubt most of these will be egyptians, but egyptian officials want looking after, so that a good many berths must be filled by englishmen; and englishmen with a knowledge of arabic and the negro dialect are not very easily found. i should say that there will be excellent openings, for young men of capacity." "i have no doubt there will," gregory said. "i have really never thought much about the future. my attention, from childhood, has been fixed upon this journey to the soudan; and i never looked beyond it, nor did my mother discuss the future with me. doubtless she would have done so, had she lived; and these papers i have may give me her advice and opinion about it." "well, i must be going on deck," captain keppel said. "we shall start in half an hour." the three gunboats were all of the same design. they were flat bottomed, so as to draw as little water as possible; and had been built and sent out, in sections, from england. they were constructed entirely of steel, and had three decks, the lower one having loophole shutters for infantry fire. on the upper deck, which was extended over the whole length of the boat, was a conning tower. in the after portion of the boat, and beneath the upper deck, were cabins for officers. each boat carried a twelve-pounder quick-firing gun forward, a howitzer, and four maxims. the craft were a hundred and thirty-five feet long, with a beam of twenty-four feet, and drew only three feet and a half of water. they were propelled by a stern wheel. at half-past nine the zafir's whistle gave the signal, and she and her consorts--the nazie and fatteh--cast off their warps, and steamed out into the river. each boat had on board two european engineers, fifty men of the th soudanese, two sergeants of royal marine artillery, and a small native crew. "i expect that we shall not make many more trips down to berber," the commander said, when they were once fairly off. "the camp at atbara will be our headquarters, unless indeed mahmud advances; in which case, of course, we shall be recalled. until then we shall be patrolling the river up to metemmeh; and making, i hope, an occasional rush as far as the next cataract." when evening came on, the steamer tied up to an island, a few miles north of shendy. so far they had seen no hostile parties--indeed, the country was wholly deserted. next morning they started before daybreak. shendy seemed to be in ruins. two arabs, only, were seen on the bank. a few shots were fired into the town, but there was no reply. half an hour later, metemmeh was seen. it stood half a mile from the river. along the bank were seven mud forts, with extremely thick and solid walls. keeping near the opposite bank, the gunboats, led by the zafir, made their way up the river. dervish horsemen could be seen, riding from fort to fort, doubtless carrying orders. the river was some four thousand yards wide and, at this distance, the gunboats opened fire at the two nearest forts. the range was soon obtained to a nicety, and the white sergeants and native gunners made splendid practice, every shell bursting upon the forts, while the maxims speedily sent the dervish horsemen galloping off to the distant hills, on which could be made out a large camp. the dervish gunners replied promptly, but the range was too great for their old brass guns. most of the shot fell short, though a few, fired at a great elevation, fell beyond the boats. one shell, however, struck the zafir, passing through the deck and killing a soudanese; and a shrapnel shell burst over the fatteh. after an hour's fire, at this range, the gunboats moved up opposite the position; and again opened fire with shell and shrapnel, committing terrible havoc on the forts, whose fire presently slackened suddenly. this was explained by the fact that, as the gunboats passed up, they saw that the embrasures of the forts only commanded the approach from the north; and that, once past them, the enemy were unable to bring a gun to bear upon the boats. doubtless the dervishes had considered it was impossible for any steamer to pass up, under their fire; and that it was therefore unnecessary to widen the embrasures, so that the guns could fire upon them when facing the forts, or going beyond them. suddenly, as all on board were watching the effect of their fire, an outburst of musketry broke out from the bushes that lined the eastern bank, a hundred yards away. fortunately, the greater part of the bullets flew overhead, but many rattled against the side. the maxims were instantly turned upon the unseen enemy, the soudanese fired volleys, and their rash assailants went at once into the thicker bush, many dropping before they gained it. the gunboats now steamed slowly up the river; and then, turning, retired downstream again, shelling the enemy's position as they passed. as they were going down they came upon a number of dervishes, who were busy unloading half a dozen native craft. the maxim soon sent them flying; and the boats, which contained horses, donkeys, grain, and other goods, were taken in tow by the gunboats, which anchored at the same island as on the previous night. "well, bimbashi," captain keppel said, when the work for the day was over, "so you have had your first brush with the enemy. what do you think of it?" "i would rather that you did not call me bimbashi, captain keppel. the title is ridiculous for me, and it was only given me that it might be useful when with egyptian or soudanese soldiers. i should feel really obliged, if you would simply call me hilliard. "i felt all right, sir, during the fight; except that i envied the gunners, who were doing something, while i had nothing to do but look on. it certainly made me jump, when that shell struck the boat, because i had quite made up my mind that their guns would not carry so far, and so it was a complete surprise to me." "yes, it was a very harmless affair. still, it was good as a preparation for something more severe. you have got accustomed to the noise, now, and that is always as great a trial to the nerves as actual danger." "i wish i could be doing something, sir. everyone else had some duty, from yourself down to the black firemen--even my servant made himself useful, in carrying up shot." "i tell you what i will do, mr. hilliard. i will get those marine sergeants to instruct you in the working of the maxim, and in the duties of the men attending on it. then next time we come up, i will put you in command of one of them. your duties will not be severe, as you would simply direct the men as to the object at which they are to aim, watch the effect and direction of the bullets, and see that they change their aim, as circumstances may direct. the black gunners are well trained, and know their work; still, if by any chance the gun jams, it will be useful for you to be able to show them what to do; even though they know it as well as, or better than, you do yourself. the blacks like being commanded by a white officer, and will feel pleased, rather than otherwise, at your being appointed to command their gun. your lessons cannot begin for a day or two, for i have not done with metemmeh, yet." "i am very much obliged to you, indeed," gregory said warmly. "i will take care not to interfere with the men's working of the gun." "no, you will not have to do that; but a word or two of commendation, when they make good practice, pleases them immensely; and they will work all the better, and faster, for your standing by them." at daybreak next morning the gunboats went up again, and engaged the forts, as before. the dervishes had placed more guns in position, but again the shells fell short, while those of the boats played havoc with the enemy's defences. some ten thousand of the dervish horse and foot came down near the town, in readiness to repel any attempt at a landing. after some hours' bombardment, the gunboats retired. as they steamed away, the dervish host were shouting and waving their banners, evidently considering that they had won a great victory. having fulfilled their object, which was to retain mahmud at metemmeh by showing him that, if he advanced against merawi and dongola, we had it in our power to occupy the town; and so cut off his retreat, and prevent reinforcements or stores from reaching him from omdurman, the gunboats returned to berber. so far, gregory had had no duties to perform in his capacity of interpreter, for no prisoners had been taken. on the way down the river, one of the artillery sergeants explained the working of the maxim to him, taking the weapon to pieces, and explaining to him how each part acted, and then showing him how to put it together again. the sergeant having done this several times, gregory was then told to perform the operation himself, and the lessons continued after their arrival at berber. in the course of a week he was able to do this smartly; and had learned, in case of a breakdown, which parts of the mechanism would most probably have given way, and how to replace broken parts by spare ones, carried up for the purpose. there was no long rest at berber, and on the st of november the gunboats again went up the river, reinforced by the metemmeh, which had now arrived. each boat, as before, carried fifty soldiers; and major stuart-wortley went up, as staff officer. the evening before starting, they received the welcome news that the railway line had, that day, reached abu hamed. this time there was but a short pause made opposite metemmeh, and after shelling the forts, which had been added to since the last visit, they proceeded up the river. shortly after passing the town, a large dervish camp was seen in a valley, and this, they afterwards found, was occupied by the force that had returned from berber. a heavy fire of shell and shrapnel was opened upon it, and it was speedily destroyed. the gunboats then went up as high as the sixth cataract. the country was found to be absolutely deserted, neither a peasant nor a dervish being visible. having thus accomplished the object of their reconnaissance, the flotilla returned, exchanged fire with the metemmeh batteries, and then kept on their way down to berber. chapter : a prisoner. rather than remain unoccupied on board the gunboat, gregory went to colonel wingate's headquarters and said that he should be very glad if he would allow him, while the flotilla remained at berber, to assist in interrogating the fugitives who arrived from the south, and the spies employed to gain early information of the intentions and movements of the enemy. the position of the dervishes at metemmeh was becoming critical. the khalifa was desirous that mahmud should return with his force to omdurman, there to take part in the battle in which, as he was convinced, the invaders would be annihilated. mahmud, who was of an eager and impetuous disposition, was anxious to take the offensive at once, and either to march upon merawi and dongola, or to drive the british out of berber. there could be no doubt that his view was a more sagacious one than that of his father; and that the best tactics to be adopted were to harass the british advance, fall upon their convoys, cut their communications, and so oblige them to fall back for want of supplies. the khalifa's mistake was similar to that made by theodore in abyssinia, and koffee kalkalli in ashanti. had either of these leaders adopted the system of harassing the invaders, from the moment they left the coast, it would have been next to impossible for the latter to arrive at their destination. but each allowed them to march on, unmolested, until within striking distance; then hazarded everything on the fortune of a single battle, and lost. mahmud made no movement in obedience to the khalifa's orders to retire to omdurman, and the latter thereupon refused to send any further supplies to him, and mahmud's army was therefore obliged to rely upon raids and plunder for subsistence. these raids were carried out with great boldness, and villages situated within a few miles of berber were attacked. the dervishes, however, met with a much warmer reception than they had expected, for rifles and ammunition had been served out freely to the villagers; and these, knowing the fate that awaited them were the dervishes victorious, offered so obstinate a resistance that the latter fell back, discomfited. early in january, the sirdar learned that the khalifa had changed his mind, and had sent peremptory orders to mahmud to advance and drive the british out of berber, and destroy the railway. mahmud had now been joined by osman digna, with five thousand men; and as the egyptian troops, well as they had fought, had never yet been opposed to so formidable a force as that which mahmud commanded, the sirdar telegraphed to england for white troops. his request was at once complied with. the warwickshires, lincolnshires, and cameron highlanders were ordered to proceed from cairo and alexandria to the front; and the seaforth highlanders at malta, and the northumberland fusiliers at gibraltar were also despatched, without delay. major general gatacre was appointed to the command of the brigade. at the end of the third week in january, the three regiments from lower egypt had arrived at wady halfa, and the seaforths at assouan. at the beginning of february the british brigade was carried, by railway, to abu dis. here they remained until the th, when they marched to berber, and then to a camp ten miles north of the atbara, where they arrived on the th of march, having covered a hundred and forty-four miles in six days and a half, a great feat in such a climate. mahmud had made no movement until the th of february, when he began to cross the nile to shendy. this movement had not been expected by the sirdar, and was hailed by him with satisfaction. had mahmud remained at metemmeh he could, aided by the forts, his artillery, and the walled town, have offered a very formidable resistance. had he marched along the banks of the nile, he would have been exposed to the fire of the gunboats, but these could not have arrested his course. the country round berber was favourable to the action of his cavalry, and if defeated he could have fallen back, unmolested, through metemmeh on omdurman; but by crossing the river he practically cut himself off from the dervish base, and now had only a desert behind him; for we had taken over kassala from the italians, and the egyptian battalion there, and a large force of friendly arabs, would prevent him from retiring up the banks of the atbara. mahmud's plan was to march along the nile to ahab, then to cross the desert to hudi, at an angle of the river; whence a direct march, of twenty-five miles, would take him to berber, and in this way he would avoid our strong position at the junction of the atbara and the nile. it would have been easy for the gunboats to prevent mahmud from crossing the nile, but the sirdar was glad to allow him to do so. the movement afforded him time to concentrate his force, and to get up large supplies. for, each day, the distance that these could be transported by the railway had increased; and he saw that, when the time for fighting came, the victory would be a decisive one; and that few, indeed, of mahmud's men would ever be able to make their way to omdurman, and swell the khalifa's force there. on one occasion, however, the gunboats went up to watch what was going on, and take advantage of any opportunity that might offer to destroy some of mahmud's boats, and thus render the work of his getting his force over slower and more difficult. an entrenchment had been thrown up at the point where the dervishes crossed, and this had been manned by two hundred and fifty riflemen. the zafir steamed up close to the bank and opened fire with her maxims. another gunboat sank one large craft and captured two others, and the troops landed and, covered by the fire of the guns, captured a fourth which had grounded in shallow water. a smaller boat was halfway across the river when the gunboats arrived. it was seen that there were several women on board, and as the capture would have been of no value, no regard was paid to it. as it would have been as dangerous to return as to keep on, the boatmen plied their hardest to get across, but the stream carried them down near the zafir. the boat was quite unnoticed, all eyes being intent upon the shore. she was passing about thirty yards astern of the gunboat, when a badly aimed shell from a dervish battery struck her, and she sank almost instantly. gregory, who was superintending the working of the maxim nearest the stern, looked round at the sound of the explosion. several of the occupants had evidently been killed, but two or three of the boatmen started to swim to shore. only two of the women came to the surface, struggling wildly and screaming for help. with scarcely a thought of what he was doing, gregory unclasped his sword belt, dropped his pistol, and sprang overboard. one of the women had sunk before he reached them, the other was on the point of doing so, when he caught her by the arm. she at once clung to him, and he had hard work to disengage her arm from his neck; then, after turning her so that her face was above water, he looked round. the gunboat was already a hundred yards away. her wheel was revolving, so as to keep her in her place facing the redoubt, and the stream was driving him fast away from her. within ten yards of him was a black head, and a moment later zaki was beside him. he had been working at gregory's maxim, and had suddenly missed his master. looking round, he had seen him struggling with the woman in the stream, and without hesitation had leapt overboard. "i am sorry you came," gregory said, "for it is only throwing away your life. it is of no use shouting, for they could not hear us in that din; and if they happened to catch sight of us, would take us for two of the black boatmen. i see the stream is taking us nearer to the bank." zaki had taken hold of the woman while he was speaking. "we might swim a long way down, master, if we let go of her." "i won't do that, zaki. i know now that i was a fool to jump overboard; but now that i have done so, i will save her life. besides, i could not swim very far even without her. i am feeling the weight of my boots and clothes. "will you swim with us till i can touch the ground, and then leave us? strike right into the river again--i know that you are a good swimmer--and drop down the stream until you reach one of the islands, and then you can land and hail the gunboats as they come down. tell captain keppel why i jumped over." "i am not going to leave you, master. no doubt the dervishes will shoot me, but my life is of no consequence, and i shall be glad to die by the side of so good a master." the woman, who had ceased to struggle when gregory shook off her grasp, was now conscious; as, with one of them supporting her on each side, her head was above water. "they will not kill you," she said. "you have saved me, and they will be grateful." gregory had no faith whatever in dervish gratitude. "well, zaki," he said, "if you will not leave us, we will strike at once for the shore. the gunboats are nearly half a mile away now. there is just a chance that we may not have been noticed by the dervishes, and may be able to hide in the bushes till the gunboats return. when they see me, they will at once send a boat ashore, under cover of their fire, and take us off." "there is a good chance of that, master," zaki said cheerfully, "and the dervishes are busy up there fighting, and will not think much of a little boat." three or four minutes later they were in shallow water. as soon as they landed, gregory threw himself down, utterly exhausted; and the woman sank down beside him, but not before hastily rearranging her veil. in a couple of minutes, gregory roused himself. "i can climb the bank, now," he said, "and the sooner we are hidden among the bushes, the better." but as he spoke he heard the sound of galloping horsemen, and almost immediately an emir, on a magnificent animal, followed by a dozen dervishes, dashed up. "mahmud!" the woman cried, as she rose to her feet; "it is i, fatma!" mahmud gave a cry of joy, and waved his hand to his followers, who had already pointed their rifles at gregory. "these have saved me, my lord," the woman went on. "they jumped from their boat, and reached me just as i was sinking, and have borne me up. for my sake you must spare their lives." mahmud frowned. he dismounted and went up to his wife. "have i not sworn, fatma," he said, "that i would slay every unbeliever who falls into my hands? how, then, can i spare even one who has saved your life?" "others have been spared who have been of service, my lord," she said. "there are greeks and egyptians who work your guns, and they were spared because they were useful. there is neufeld, who lives under the protection of the khalifa. surely these men have done far more to deserve, not only life, but honour at your hands. they risked their lives to save mine. what follower of the prophet could do more? they could not have known who i was, a woman they saw drowning. are there any among the bravest of the tribes who would have done the same?" "i have sworn an oath," mahmud said, gloomily. "but you have not sworn to slay instantly. you can keep them, at least, until you can take them before the khalifa, and say to him: "'father, i have sworn to kill unbelievers, but these men have saved fatma's life; and i pray you to absolve me from the oath, or order them to be taken from me, and then do you yourself pardon them and set them free for the service that they have rendered me.' "if he refuses, if these men are killed, i also swear that, as my life is due to them, i myself will perish by my own hands, if they die for saving it!" "it needs not that, fatma. you think that i am ungrateful, that i do not feel that these men have acted nobly, thus to risk their lives to save a strange woman whose face they have never seen. it is my oath that lies heavily upon me. i have never been false to an oath." "nor need you be now," fatma said earnestly. "you swore to slay any unbeliever that fell into your hands. this man has not fallen into your hands. i have a previous claim to him. he is under my protection. i cover him with my robe"--and she swept a portion of her garment round gregory--"and as long as he is under it he is, according to tribal laws, safe even from the vengeance of my husband! "as to the other, he is not an unbeliever. your oath concerns him not. him you can honour and reward, according to the value you place upon my life." the arab's face cleared. "truly you have discovered a way out of it, fatma, at any rate for the present." he turned to gregory for the first time. "do you speak our tongue?" he asked. "yes, emir, as well as my own." "then you understand what we have said. had i not been bound by my oath, i would have embraced you as a brother. we arabs can appreciate a brave deed, even when it is done by an enemy. when one of the boatmen ran into the battery where i was directing the guns against your boat, and said that the boat in which my wife, with other women, were crossing had been sunk, by a shell from our batteries on the other side, i felt that my blood was turned to water. he said he believed that all had been killed or drowned, but that he looked back as he swam, and saw a white man jump overboard, and a short time after another followed him; and that, when he reached the shore, they were supporting a woman in the water. "i rode hither, having but small hope indeed that it was my wife, but marvelling much that a white officer should thus risk his life to save a drowning woman. my oath pressed heavily upon me, as i rode. even had it been but a slave girl whom you rescued, i should no less have admired your courage. i myself am said to be brave, but it would never have entered my mind thus to risk my life for a stranger. when i found that it was my wife who was saved, i still more bitterly regretted the oath that stood between me and her preserver, and truly glad am i that she has herself shown me how i can escape from its consequences. "now i see you, i wonder even more than before at what you have done; for indeed, in years, you are little more than a boy." "what i did, emir, i believe any white officer who was a good swimmer would have done. no englishman would see a woman drowning without making an effort to save her, if he had it in his power. as to the fact that she was not of the same race or religion, he would never give it a thought. it would be quite enough for him that she was a woman." "and you," mahmud said, turning to zaki, "you are a jaalin, are you not?" "i am." "jaalin or baggara, you are my friend," mahmud said, placing his hand on zaki's shoulders. "and so you, too, leapt overboard to save a woman?" "no, emir," he replied, "i jumped over because my master jumped over. i had not thought about the woman. i jumped over to aid him, and it was to give him my help that i took my share in supporting the woman. the bimbashi is a good master, and i would die for him." mahmud smiled at this frank answer. "nevertheless, whatever may have been your motive, you were enabled to save the life of my wife, and henceforth you are my friend." then he turned to the horsemen, who were still grouped on the bank above. "you have heard what has been said? the white man is under the protection of my harem; the jaalin is henceforth my friend." mahmud was a fine specimen of the tribesmen of the soudan--tall, well built, and with pure arab features. he was the khalifa's favourite son; and was generous, with kindly impulses, but impatient of control. of late, he had given way to outbursts of passion, feeling acutely the position in which he was placed. he had advanced from omdurman confident that he should be able to drive the infidels before him, and carry his arms far into egypt. his aspirations had been thwarted by the khalifa. his requests for stores and camels that would have enabled him to advance had been refused, and he had been ordered to fall back. his troops had been rendered almost mutinous, from the want of supplies. he had seen the invaders growing stronger and stronger, and accomplishing what had seemed an impossibility--the bringing up of stores sufficient for their sustenance--by pushing the railroad forward towards berber. now that their forces had been very greatly increased, and the issue of the struggle had become doubtful, he had received the order for which he had been craving for months; and had been directed to march down and attack the egyptian army, drive them across the nile, and destroy the railway. by means of spies he had heard that, ere long, a large force of british soldiers would come up to reinforce the egyptians; so that what might have been easy work, two months before, had now become a difficult and dangerous enterprise. the manner in which the dervishes had been defeated in their attacks upon wolseley's desert column, and in the engagements that had since taken place, showed how formidable was the fighting power, not only of the british troops, but of the native army they had organized; and his confidence in the power of the tribesmen to sweep all before them had been shaken. the dervishes scowled, when they heard that they were not to have the satisfaction of massacring this englishman, whose countrymen were still keeping up a terrible fire on their redoubt. it was not one of their wives who had been rescued, and gregory's act of jumping overboard seemed to them to savour of madness; and if that plea had been advanced, they would have recognized it as rendering the person of the man who had performed it inviolable. however, as he was under the protection of their leader's harem, there was nothing more to be said; and at an order from mahmud all but four of them rode off, while the others fell in behind him. mahmud did not mount again, but walked with his wife to a deserted mud hut, two hundred yards away. there he left her, telling gregory and zaki to sit down outside, and placing the four men on guard. "i must rejoin my men," he said, as he mounted. "when your vessels have gone, i will return." half an hour later, the fire ceased. soon afterwards mahmud rode up with a score of men, followed by some dozen women, and a slave leading a donkey. on this fatma took her seat, and the women surrounded her. gregory and zaki walked close behind them. mahmud, with his horsemen, rode in front. after proceeding for a mile, they came upon a group of tents. mahmud's banner was flying on a pole in front of the largest of these. behind, and touching it, was another almost as large. this was the abode of the ladies of mahmud's harem. the other tents were occupied by his principal emirs. a hundred yards away was the encampment of the army, which was sheltered in hastily constructed huts, or arbours, made of bushes. by mahmud's order, a small tent was erected, with blankets, close to the after entrance into the harem tent, for gregory's use; so that, should he be attacked by fanatics, he could at once take refuge in the harem, whose sanctity not even the most daring would dare to violate. a handsome robe was brought for zaki; and as mahmud presented it to him, he said: "you are my friend, but you must now go back to your vessels, or to berber. my orders were to kill all the jaalin, and we have spared none who fell into our hands, at metemmeh or since. i cannot keep you here. as long as you stay by my side, you will be safe; but you could not leave me for a moment. it is as much as i can do to save the life of this infidel officer, and it is to him that i owe most, for it was he who first leapt into the river. "the white men's boats have already fastened up, behind the island where they before stationed themselves. make your way down there, at daybreak, and wave a white cloth. doubtless they will send a boat ashore, thinking that you bear a message from me; or if you see they do not do this, you can swim out to them." "i would rather stay with my master. cannot you let him go, too?" "that is impossible," mahmud said shortly. "it is known throughout the camp that i have a white man here. the news will travel fast to the khalifa. my actions have already been misrepresented to him, and were i to let this officer go, my father might recall me to omdurman and send another to command here. "he must stay, but you may go without harm. you can scarcely have been noticed yet, and i can well declare, should the khalifa hear of you, that you have escaped." "may i speak with my master?" zaki said. "if he says stay, i shall stay, though it might cost me my life. if he says go, i must go." "you may speak to him," mahmud said. zaki went round to gregory's tent, and told him what mahmud had said. "go, certainly, zaki. you can do me no good by remaining here, and might even do me harm; for if you were killed i also might be murdered. moreover, i wish to send the news of my capture, and how it occurred. i do not think any, save yourself, noticed that i was missing; and when the fight was over, and they found that i was absent, they might suppose that i had been shot and had fallen overboard. "i will write a note for you to carry. it is, in all respects, better that you should go. were we to be seen talking together, it might be supposed that we were planning some way of escape, and i should be more closely watched. as it is, i see that mahmud will have difficulty in protecting me. were you to ride about with him, as he says, your presence would remind his followers that he has a white man a captive here; whereas, if i remain almost in concealment near the harem, the fact that there is a white man here will pass out of the minds of those who know it, and will not become the common talk of the camp. "mahmud is running some risk in having spared my life, and i do not wish to make it harder for him. go, therefore, and tell him that you will leave tonight. i cannot write now; my pocketbook is soaked through. but i will tear out some leaves and dry them in the sun; and write what i have to say, before you start. i shall speak highly of you in my letter, and recommend you to colonel wingate; who will, i have no doubt, give you employment. "i hope i shall see you again, before long. i am very sorry that we must part, but it is best for us both." very reluctantly, zaki returned to mahmud. "my master says i must go, emir; and i must obey his orders, though i would rather stay with him. tonight, i will leave." "it is well. i would that i could let him go, also, but my oath prevents me from giving him his freedom. i trust, however, that when the khalifa hears of his noble action, and how he has made me his debtor, he will say that allah himself would not blame me for that. gratitude is even more binding than an oath. "still, until i hear from him, i can do nothing. we have not seen matters in the same light, for some time. when i wanted to strike, he was unwilling that i should do so. now, when it seems to me that the time for that has passed, and that i had best retire on omdurman, he says go forward and fight. it is not for me to question his commands, or his wisdom. but i may not give him cause for anger. "my advice to you is, when you get to berber, do not stay there. we shall assuredly be there before long, and as none would know that you were under my protection, you would be slain. go straight to abu hamed; and when you hear that we have defeated the infidels, and have entered berber, leave by this road they have made, upon which, as they tell me, carriages run without horses, and stay not until you reach cairo. "there you can live quietly, until you hear that the khalifa's army is approaching. after that, fly. i cannot say whither, but seek a shelter until the black flag waves over the whole of the land. when there is no more fighting, then come to me and i will give you a post of honour." "i will do so, emir. when the time comes, i will remind you of your promise." "i have neither silver nor gold with which i can reward you, now; but we shall gather these things in egypt, and i will make you wealthy." zaki thought that it would be unwise to wander from mahmud's encampment, and he accordingly sat down by his tent. presently, one of the slaves came out, with a large dish of food that mahmud had sent him. as evening approached, he went round to gregory's little tent, with the intention of trying to persuade him to attempt to escape with him; but two of the tribesmen, with rifles in their hands, were stationed there. they offered no opposition to his entry, but their presence showed that mahmud was determined that his master should appear to be a close prisoner; as, indeed, his escape might well jeopardize the emir's position, even among his followers. gregory had a letter ready for him to carry to captain keppel. it ran as follows: "dear captain keppel, "i am a prisoner in mahmud's hands. this is the result of my own impetuosity--i will not say folly, for i cannot regret that i yielded to the sudden impulse that seized me. a boat containing some women was sunk by a shell, when but a few yards astern of the gunboat. most of its occupants were killed, but i saw a woman struggling in the water and, without thinking of the consequences, jumped overboard to save her, my servant following me. when we reached her, we found that the current was too strong to regain the gunboat, and so landed about half a mile down, hoping to find shelter in the bushes until the boat came down the stream. what i did, however, had been observed by the dervishes; and as soon as i landed a party rode up, headed by mahmud himself, who was aware that his favourite wife was in the boat that had sunk. "most fortunately, it turned out that she was the woman i had saved. upon her appeal mahmud spared our lives. he has released my man, who will carry this to you; but, having sworn that he would spare no white man, he retains me in his hands as a prisoner, until he can lay the facts before the khalifa and obtain his permission to let me go. i trust that all will be well, and that some day i may rejoin the army. however, there is no saying how matters may turn out. "i am happy in knowing that there is no one who, if the worst comes to the worst, will grieve over my loss. i recommend my faithful servant to you. i should wish the balance of pay coming to me to be handed to him, as well as my camel and horse, and all other belongings. by the sale of these he would be able, at the end of the war, to buy a piece of land and settle down among his own people. "will you kindly report my capture to colonel wingate or general hunter? thanking you for your kindness to me, i remain, "yours faithfully, "gregory hilliard. "p. s. in my cabin is a tin box containing documents of importance to me. i shall be greatly obliged if you will take charge of these, until--as i hope will be the case--i rejoin you." he handed the paper to zaki, who took his hand and raised it to his forehead, with tears in his eyes. "i go because you order me, master," he said, in a broken voice; "but i would a thousand times rather remain, and share your fate, whatever it might be." then he turned, and abruptly left the tent. twice that day, gregory had received food from a female slave of the harem. although he knew that he should miss zaki greatly, he was very glad that he had been sent away; for he felt that, although for the time he had been reprieved, his position was very precarious, and that his servant's would have been still more so. a white prisoner was a personage of some consequence, but the death of a jaalin was a matter that would disturb no one. thousands of them had been massacred; and one, more or less, could not matter at all. but, however much the dervishes might hate a white infidel, it would be a serious matter for even the most powerful emir to harm a prisoner under the protection of the harem of the khalifa's son. mahmud had been very popular among them, but his position had been gravely shaken by the events of the last six months. having unlimited confidence in themselves; the baggara had seen, with increasing fury, the unopposed advance of the egyptians. they could not understand why they should not have been allowed, after the capture of metemmeh, to march across the desert to merawi, and annihilate the infidels assembled there. it was true that these had repulsed the force defending dongola, but this was a comparatively small body; and it was the gunboats, and not the egyptian troops, who had forced them to evacuate the town. the fall of abu hamed had added to their discontent, and they were eager to march with all speed to berber, to join the five thousand men comprising its garrison, and to drive the invaders back across the nile. but they had been kept inactive, by the orders of the khalifa and by the want of stores. they had, for months, been suffering great privations; and while remaining in enforced inactivity, they had known that their enemy's strength was daily increasing; and that what could have been accomplished with the greatest of ease, in august, had now become a very serious business. mahmud had chafed at the situation in which he found himself placed, by his father's refusal to support him or to allow him to take any action. this had soured his temper, and he had taken to drinking heavily. he had become more harsh with his men, more severe in the punishment inflicted for any trifling disobedience of orders. although no thought that the rule of the khalifa could be seriously threatened entered their minds, fanatical as they were, they could not but feel some uneasiness at the prospect. a great army was gathering at berber. kassala was in the hands of the british, and the forces that had been beleaguering it had been defeated, with heavy loss. abyssinia had leagued itself against them. the insurrection of the jaalin had been crushed, but there were signs of unrest in kordofan, and other parts. of course, all this would be put right. an army of sixty thousand men was at omdurman; and this, with mahmud's command, would suffice to sweep away all their enemies. their enthusiasm would never have wavered, had they been called upon for action; but these months of weary waiting, and of semi-starvation, without the acquisition of any booty or plunder--for little, indeed, had been obtained at the capture of metemmeh--sapped their energy; and the force that crossed the nile for an advance upon berber was far less formidable than it would have been, had it been led forward against merawi and dongola directly after the capture of metemmeh. still, it needed only the prospect of a battle to restore its spirits. a fortnight after gregory's capture, the dervish army was set in motion. a few thousand men had already been sent forward, along the banks of the river, to check any advance that might be made from fort atbara. had it not been for this, gregory might have attempted to escape. it would not have been very difficult for him to creep out at the back of his little tent, unperceived by his guards; but the dangers to be encountered in making his way to the british fort would have been immense. it would have been necessary for him to keep by the river, for from this source alone could water be obtained. the country had been stripped of its crops, of all kinds, by the dervishes; the villages had been razed to the ground; and the last head of maize, and other grain, gleaned by the starving people who had taken refuge in the bush and jungle. therefore, although by keeping near the river he could quench his thirst at will, he would assuredly have to face starvation. moreover, he would have no chance of searching for any ears of corn which might have escaped the eyes of the searchers, for he must travel only by night and lie up by day, to avoid capture by one or other of the bands that had gone on; in which case he would at once be killed, being beyond the influence of mahmud, and the protection of the harem. on the other hand, he had nothing to complain of, except the monotony and uncertainty of his position. fatma kept him well supplied with food; and, from the gossip of the slaves who brought this to him, he learnt how matters were progressing. he was longing for the dervish army to make a move, for he felt that when they neared the british position, the greater would be the chance of escape; and none among the followers of mahmud rejoiced more than he did, when he knew that the long-expected advance was about to take place. once in motion, the spirits of the dervishes revived. at last they were going to meet these insolent invaders, and none doubted that they would easily defeat them. the greater portion of the harem and attendants were left behind, at shendy, for but few camels were available. fatma and another of mahmud's wives rode on one. a tent was carried by another. half a dozen slaves followed, and gregory walked with these. he could not help admiring the attitude of the tribesmen--tall, powerful men, inured to hardship, and walking or riding with an air of fierce independence, which showed their pride in themselves, and their confidence in their prowess. the party always started early in the morning, so as to get the tents erected at the halting place before the main body of the dervishes came up. on the march, they kept some distance from the river and, being but a small group, the gunboats did not waste their shot upon them; but each day there was a sharp exchange of fire between them and mahmud's force. gregory supposed that mahmud's plan was to cross the atbara, which was fordable at several points, and to attack the fort there; in which case, he had no doubt the arabs would be driven off, with much loss. the sirdar was of the same opinion, and in order to tempt them to do so, he maintained only one egyptian brigade in the fort, the remainder of the force being concentrated at kennur, four miles away. from this point they would be able to advance and take the dervishes in flank, while they were engaged in the attack of the fort. mahmud, however, was kept well informed of the movements of the troops, and instead of continuing his course down the river bank when he reached gabati, he struck across the desert; and, after two days' march, crossed the atbara at nakheila. from this point, owing to the bend in the river, he would be able to march direct to berber, avoiding the atbara fort and the force gathered round it. altogether the desert march, although only lasting two days, was a trying one. the heat was overpowering, and even the ladies of the harem had the scantiest supply of water. they had, at starting, given gregory a gourd of water for his own use. this he had taken sparingly, and it lasted him until they reached the atbara. it was now dead low water, and the river offered no obstacle to crossing, as the bed was for the most part dry, with pools here and there. the arab encampment was formed in a thick grove of trees, which afforded some shelter from the sun. day after day passed. mahmud was now informed as to the strength of the force he should have to encounter, and for the first time felt some doubt as to the issue of the fight. he determined, therefore, to stand on the defensive. this decision, however, he kept to himself. the dervishes were burning to be led to the assault, and became almost mutinous, on account of the delay. mahmud was obliged to take the strongest measures, and several of those who were loudest in their dissatisfaction were summarily executed. the rest were pacified with the assurance that he was only waiting for a fortunate day. in the meantime, the men were employed in fortifying the position. deep holes were dug along the edge of the wood, and behind these were trenches and pitfalls. mahmud's own temper grew daily more sullen and fierce. his own fighting instinct was in favour of the attack his followers longed to deliver, but in his heart he was afraid that the result might be fatal. it was not the rifles of the infantry that he feared--of these he had no experience--but the artillery, which he had learned, already, could be used with terrible effect. as mahmud was drinking heavily, and as the fact that the white soldiers were near at hand added to the fanatical hatred of the emirs and tribesmen, fatma sent a message by a slave to gregory, warning him not to show himself outside the little shelter tent, composed of a single blanket, in which he now lived. at length it became known that the english host was approaching. as soon as the gunboats brought down news that the dervishes were no longer following the river bank, but were disappearing into the desert, the sirdar guessed their intentions. nothing could have suited him better. a battle now must be a decisive one. there was no way of retreat open to the dervishes, except to cross the waterless desert; or to fly south, keeping to the course of the atbara, which would take them farther and farther from the nile with every mile they marched. bringing up all his force, therefore, from kennur and the atbara fort, which one battalion was left to guard, the sirdar took up his post at hudi. the position was well chosen. it lay halfway between mahmud's camp at nakheila and the atbara fort, and left mahmud only the option of attacking him; or of making a long detour, through the desert to the east, in order to reach berber. the british, on the other hand, could receive their supplies by camels from the atbara fort. the cavalry went out to reconnoitre, and had constant skirmishes with the enemy's horse; but when day after day passed, and mahmud did not come, as the sirdar had expected, to attack him, it was determined to take the offensive. general hunter was ordered to move forward, with the whole of the cavalry and a maxim-gun battery, to discover the exact position of the enemy. the camp had been well chosen; for, like abu hamed, it lay in a depression, and could not be seen until an enemy came within six hundred yards of it. thus the superiority of range of the british rifles was neutralized, and their guns could not be brought into play until within reach of the dervish muskets. the wood was surrounded by a high zareba, behind which a crowd of dervishes were assembled. they had anticipated an attack, and held their fire until the cavalry should come nearer. this, however, general hunter had no intention of doing, and he retired with the information he had gained. his account of the strength of the position showed the difficulty of taking it by assault. next day he again went out with the same force, but this time the dervishes were prepared. their mounted men dashed out from the wood, and galloped round to cut off the cavalry; while the footmen crowded out to attack them in front. the cavalry fell back in perfect order, and one squadron charged forty of the dervish cavalry, who barred the line of retreat. these they drove off, but the main body still pressed forward, and the maxims opened upon them. the hail of bullets was too much for the horsemen, and they drew off. several times they gathered again for a charge, but on each occasion the maxims dispersed them. the unmounted dervishes were soon left behind, but the horsemen, in spite of the lesson they had received, followed almost to the camp. on the afternoon of the th of april, the anglo-egyptian force marched out. they started at five in the afternoon, and halted at seven. the horses were first taken down to water, the infantry by half battalions; all then lay down to sleep. at one o'clock the word to advance was passed round quietly. the moon was full and high overhead, so there was no difficulty in avoiding obstacles. each brigade marched in square, accompanied by the guns and the maxims, and the camels with provisions and spare ammunition. at four o'clock they halted again. they had been well guided, and were now but a short distance from the enemy's position. at sunrise the men were again on their feet, and advanced to within two hundred yards of the position from which they were to deliver their attack. the british brigade--the camerons, warwicks, seaforths, and lincolns--were on the left. next to them came macdonald's brigade--the three soudanese regiments in front, the nd egyptian in support. farther still to the right, and touching the river, was maxwell's brigade, comprising also three soudanese regiments and an egyptian one. two of the three egyptian battalions of lewis's brigade were placed on the left rear of the british brigade, the third battalion was in square round the camels. two field batteries were in front of the infantry, and two to the right of maxwell's brigade. half a mile from the zareba the infantry halted, and the artillery and maxims opened fire. for an hour a tremendous fire was poured into the enemy's position, but not a shot was fired in reply, although the dervishes could be seen moving among the trees, apparently unconcerned at the storm of shell and bullets. gregory's position had been growing more critical every day. food was extremely short; the scanty supplies that the force had brought with them had been long since exhausted, and they were now subsisting upon palm nuts. of these, two were served out daily to each man, a quantity barely sufficient to keep life together. in spite of the vigilant watch kept by the more fanatical of mahmud's followers, desertions had become frequent, notwithstanding the certain death that awaited those who were overtaken. the evening after the cavalry made their first reconnaissance, the slave who brought gregory's food told him that fatma wished to speak to him. it was but three paces to the entrance of the tent, and his guards made no objection. the entrance was closed as the slave entered, but half a minute later it was opened an inch or two, and, without showing herself, fatma said: "listen to me." "i am listening," gregory replied. "i am in great fear for you. you are in much danger. the emirs say to mahmud that you ought to be killed; their followers are well-nigh starving--why should an infidel prisoner be eating? his friends are now close to us, and there will be a battle. none will be spared on either side--why should this man be spared? "mahmud has many cares. the men are furious because he will not lead them out to fight. even the emirs are sullen; and osman digna, who was on bad terms with him a short time ago, and who, mahmud suspects, is intriguing with them against him, is foremost in urging that an attack should take place; though everyone knows he is a coward, and never shows himself in battle, always running away directly he sees that things are going against him. still, he has five thousand followers of his own. "mahmud told me today that he had done all in his power but, placed as he was, he could not withstand the words of the emirs, and the complaints of the tribesmen. when the battle comes--as it must come in a day or two--it will need all his influence and the faith of the men with him to win; and with so much at stake, how can he risk everything for the sake of a single life, and that the life of an infidel? if you would agree to aid in working his guns, as the greeks and egyptians do, it would content the emirs." "that i cannot do," gregory said. "if i am to be killed, it is the will of god; but better that, a thousand times, than turn traitor!" "i knew that it would be so," fatma said sorrowfully. "what can we do? at other times, the protection of the harem would cover even one who had slain a chief; but now that the baggara are half starving, and mad with anger and disappointment, even that no longer avails. if they would brave the anger of the son of the khalifa, they would not regard the sanctity of the harem. i wish now that i had advised you to try and escape when we left shendy, or even when we first came here. it would have been difficult, but not impossible; but now i can see no chance. there is the thorn hedge round the wood, with few openings, and with men on watch all round to prevent desertion. several tried to escape last night--all were caught and killed this morning. even if it were possible to pass through, there are bands of horsemen everywhere out on the plain, keeping watch alike against the approach of the enemy and the desertion of cowards. "i have been in despair, all day, that i cannot save the life of one who saved mine. i have told mahmud that my honour is concerned, and that i would give my life for yours. months ago, he would have braved the anger of all his army for me, but he has changed much of late. it is not that he loves me less, but that he has been worried beyond bearing, and in his troubles he drinks until he forgets them. "my only hope is that your people will attack tomorrow. mahmud says that they will assuredly be beaten; they will be shot down as they approach, and none will ever be able to get through the hedge. then, when they fall back, the baggara will pour out, horse and foot, and destroy them. they will then see how right he has been in not letting them go out into the plain to fight. his influence will be restored, and your life will be safe. "we are to be removed to the farther side of the wood, when the fighting begins; and there all the women are to be gathered, and wait, till the infidels are utterly destroyed. "if your people come tomorrow morning, you may be saved. otherwise i fear the worst." "i thank you for what you have done for me," replied gregory, "and whatever comes of it, be sure that i shall feel grateful to you, and shall not blame you for not having been able to do what was impossible. i hope my friends may come tomorrow, for, whatever my fate may be, anything is better than uncertainty." "may allah protect you!" the woman said, with a sob; "and go now. i hear mahmud calling me." chapter : the battle of atbara. gregory had little sleep that night. it was clear to him that there was absolutely no chance of making his escape. even were his two guards withdrawn, it would not improve his position. he had no means of disguise, and even if he had an arab dress and could stain his face, he could not hope to make his way through the crowds of sleeping men, the pitfalls and trenches, and pass out through the jealously guarded zareba. there was nothing, for him, but to wait till the end. he could not blame mahmud. a leader on the eve of a great battle could not, for the sake of a single captive, risk his influence and oppose the wishes of his followers. it was much that he had, for his wife's sake, postponed the fulfilment of his oath; and had so long withstood the wishes of his most influential emirs. more could not be expected. at any rate, he was better off than others who had been in the same position. he had not, so far as he knew, a relation in the world--no one who would be anywise affected by his death; and at least he would have the satisfaction of knowing that it was a kind action which had brought him to his end. he prayed earnestly, not that his life might be spared, but that his death might be a painless one; and that he might meet it as an english officer should, without showing signs of fear. the next day he heard orders given, and a great stir in camp; and he gathered, from those who passed near the tent, that the enemy's cavalry were again approaching; and that the mounted men were to ride out and cut them off from retreating, while the dismounted men were to pour out and annihilate them. then, for a time, all was silence in the camp. suddenly an outburst of shouts and cries broke out and, almost simultaneously, he heard the rattle of maxim guns--the fight had begun. would the egyptian horsemen stand firm, or would they give way to panic? if they broke and fled, none whatever would return to their camp through the host of baggara horsemen. for a time, the roll of the fire from the machine guns was incessant. then there was a pause. two or three minutes later it broke out again, but it was evidently somewhat farther off; and so it went on, with intervals of silence, but ever getting farther away. it was clear that the horsemen had not been able to bring the cavalry to a standstill, and that these were steadily falling back, covered by the fire of the maxims. at last the sound grew faint in the distance and, soon afterwards, the noise in the camp showed that the infantry were returning. it was not till two hours later that he heard the mounted men ride in; and gathered, from the talk outside, that they had lost nearly two hundred men, and had been unable to prevent the egyptian cavalry from returning to camp. towards evening he heard angry talking, and could distinguish mahmud's voice. then the blanket was pulled off its supports, and two men ordered him to follow them. this was doubtless the end, and he nerved himself for what was to come; and, with head erect and a steady face, he accompanied the men to the front of mahmud's tent. the chief was standing, with frowning face; and several emirs were gathered in front of him, while a number of tribesmen stood a short distance away. "now," mahmud said, "let one of you speak." one of the emirs stepped forward. "i, osman digna, demand that this infidel be put to death. his countrymen have slain many of my men, and yours." feeling now that mahmud, after doing his best, had ceased to struggle for him, and that his death was certain, gregory took a step forward towards the speaker, and said scornfully: "so you are osman digna! i am one of the first of my countrymen to see your face, though many have seen your back, at a distance." instead of provoking a pistol shot, as he had intended, his remark was followed by a roar of laughter from the emirs; for osman's cowardice was a byword among them, and his nickname was "one who always runs." osman, indeed, had put his hand on the stock of one of the pistols in his belt, but mahmud said imperiously: "the man's life is mine, not yours, osman digna. if you shoot him, i shoot you!" the fearlessness of the lad had pleased the other emirs; for, recklessly brave themselves, the baggara appreciated and esteemed courage and honour. one of the others said: "this is a brave young fellow and, infidels as his people are, we admit that they are brave. were it for ourselves only, we would say let him live, until we see what comes of it. but our people complain. they say his folk, with whom we had no quarrel, come here and aid the egyptians against us. they slew many yesterday. it is not right that this man should be living among us, when his countrymen are fighting against us." there was a murmur of assent among the others, then mahmud spoke. "i have promised that he should not be killed, unless by order of the khalifa. but this i will do: he shall be placed in the front rank. if allah wills it, he will be killed by the bullets of his countrymen. if, when the fight is over, he is unharmed, you shall all agree that the matter be left for the khalifa to decide. but, mind, i wash my hands of his death. on the eve of a battle, it is not for me to set my wishes above those of my emirs and my tribesmen; and i yield to your demands, because it is necessary that all be of one mind. if he is killed, which surely he will be, unless allah protects him, his blood be upon your heads!" he waved his hand, and the men came forward and again took gregory to his tent. the latter was well contented with the decision that he should be killed. he had no doubt that, at least, his death would be swift and sudden; he would not be speared, or cut to pieces with knives. he would see his countrymen advancing. he would know that he would be speedily avenged. two days passed, when the news came that the egyptians had advanced to umdabieh, seven miles nearer; and, on the following morning, the dervish camp was disturbed early. there was joy in every face, and renewed vigour in the bearing of the men. scouting dervishes had brought in word that the infidels had marched, during the night, and were now halting but a mile and a half away. the hour had come, at last. they were confident in themselves, and their trust in their leader was renewed. the fight, two days before, had shown them that the guns of the white men were terrible on the plain; and that it was, after all, wise to await them in the position which had been made impregnable, and against which the foe would hurl themselves in vain; then they were to pour out, and annihilate them. the slave came to gregory's tent, at daybreak. "fatma is praying to allah for your safety," he said. there was no time for more, for already the tents were being pulled down, and soon the women were hurried away to the rear. four men surrounded gregory, and led him to the edge of the camp, and there fastened him to the stump of a tree that had been cut off six feet from the ground, the upper portion being used in the construction of the zareba. ten or twelve men were similarly fastened, in a line with him. these had been detected in trying to sneak away. gregory had not seen anything of the camp before and, as he was taken along, he was astounded at the amount of work that had been done. everywhere the ground was pitted with deep holes, capable of sheltering from fifteen to twenty men. the hedge was a high one, and was formed for the most part of prickly bushes. the position was, indeed, a formidable one; manned, as it was, by nearly twenty thousand desperate fighters. at six o'clock the first gun was fired; and, for an hour and a half, the camp was swept with shell, shrapnel, and maxim bullets. most of the baggara were lying in the pits. many, however, walked about calmly, as if in contempt of the fire. more than half of the wretched men bound to the trees were killed. at last the fire of the guns slackened and, on the crest of the position, in a semicircle round the wood, a long line of steadily marching men appeared. the assault was about to begin. the dervishes sprang from their hiding places, and lined the trenches behind the zareba. the troops halted, and waited. the maxims moved in front of the british brigade, and then opened fire. a bugle sounded, and the whole line, black and white, advanced like a wall. when within three hundred yards, the men knelt down and opened fire, in volleys of sections. at the same instant the dervishes, with difficulty restrained until now, opened fire in return. the maxims, and the storm of british bullets swept the wood, filling the air with a shower of falling leaves. gregory murmured a prayer, shut his eyes, and awaited death. suddenly he felt his ropes slacken and fall from him, and a voice said, "drop on your face, master!" almost mechanically he obeyed, too astonished even to think what was happening; then a body fell across him. "lie still and don't move, master. they must think you are dead." "is it you, zaki?" gregory said, scarcely able, even now, to believe that it was his faithful follower. "it is i, master. i have been in the camp three days, and have never had a chance of getting near you, before." "brave fellow! good friend!" gregory said, and then was silent. speech was almost inaudible, amid the roar of battle. the pipes of the camerons could, however, be heard above the din. the men advanced steadily, in line, maintaining their excellent volley firing. the three other regiments, in close order, followed; bearing away farther to the right, so as to be able to open fire and advance. on that side the black regiments were advancing no less steadily, and the half brigade of egyptians were as eager as any. steadily and well under control, all pushed forward at a run; firing occasionally, but thirsting to get hand to hand with those who had desolated their land, destroyed their villages, and slain their friends. the british were suffering, but the blacks suffered more; for the volleys of the camerons kept down the fire of those opposed to them, better than the irregular fire of the soudanese. the latter, however, first reached the zareba; and, regardless of thorns or of fire, dashed through it with triumphant shouts, and fell upon the defenders. it was but a minute or two later that the camerons reached the hedge. formidable as it looked, it took them but a short time to tear down gaps, through which they rushed; while close behind them the seaforths, the lincolns, and the warwicks were all in, bursting through the low stockade and trenches behind it, and cheering madly. now, from their holes and shelters, the dervishes started up. brave though they were, the storm that had burst upon them with such suddenness scared them, and none attempted to arrest the course of the highlanders and red coats. firing as they ran, the dervishes made for the river. many remained in their pits till the last, firing at the soldiers as they rushed past, and meeting their death at the point of the bayonet. hotly the troops pursued, often falling into the pits, which were half hidden by thorns and long grass. there was no attempt at regularity in these holes--nothing to show where they were. it was a wild and confused combat. the officers kept their men as well together as it was possible, on such ground; but it was sharp work, for from flank and rear, as well as in front, the shots rang out from their hidden foes, and these had to be despatched as they pushed forward. as the troops burst through, gregory sprang to his feet, seized a rifle that had dropped from the hands of a dervish who had fallen close by and--shouting to zaki "lie still as if dead!"--joined the first line of troops. no questions were asked. every man's attention was fixed on the work before him, and no thought was given to this white officer, who sprang from they knew not where. he had no cartridges, and the dervishes did not carry bayonets; but, holding the rifle club-wise, he kept in the front line, falling into pits and climbing out again, engaged more than once with desperate foemen. striking and shouting, he fought on until the troops reached the river bank; and, having cleared all before them, poured volleys into the mass of fugitives crossing its dry bed. other hordes were seen away to the left, similarly driven out by lewis's egyptians, by whom a terrible fire was kept up until the last of the fugitives disappeared in the scrub on the opposite bank, leaving the river bed thickly dotted with dead bodies; while, on the right, macdonald's and maxwell's blacks similarly cleared the wood. then the soudanese and whites alike burst into cheers. men shook each other by the hand, while they waved their helmets over their heads. the soudanese leapt and danced like delighted children. presently an officer left a group of others, who had been congratulating each other on their glorious victory, and came up to gregory. "may i ask who you are, sir?" he said, courteously but coldly. "certainly, sir. my name is hilliard. i have been a captive in the hands of the dervishes; who, when you attacked, tied me to the stump of a tree as a target for your bullets; and i should certainly have been killed, had not a faithful servant of mine, a black, taken the opportunity, when the dervishes rushed into the trenches and opened fire upon you, to cut my ropes. "i have no doubt, sir," he went on, as he saw the officer look somewhat doubtful, "that general hunter is here. i am known personally to him, and served for a time on his staff." "that is quite sufficient," the officer said, more cordially. "i congratulate you on your escape. i confess it astonished us all, when a strange white officer, whom none of us knew, suddenly joined us. you will find general hunter somewhere over on the left. he is certain to have led the charge of the soudanese." "thank you! i will go and find him; but first, i must return to where i left my man. he had, of course, the mahdist's patch on his clothes; and i told him to lie still, as if dead, till i came for him; as, in the melee, it would have been impossible for me to have protected him." gregory found zaki still lying where he left him, head downward and arms thrown forward; in so good an imitation of death that he feared, for a moment, the lad had been shot after he left him. at the sound of his master's voice, however, the native sprang to his feet. "you have saved my life, zaki," gregory said, taking his hand. "i must have fallen--every man tied to a tree is, as you see, dead; but before we say anything else, cut that patch off your clothes, or you might be shot as a dervish by the first man you come across. "keep close to me. i am going to general hunter. at present, i know none of the officers of the white regiments. when i get among the soudanese, i shall be more at home." in ten minutes, he came to where general hunter was speaking to the sirdar. gregory stopped at a short distance, before the general's eyes fell upon him, and he gave an exclamation of pleasure. "that is hilliard, general; the young fellow who jumped from one of the gunboats, off metemmeh, to rescue the woman. the act was unnoticed at the time, but a black he had with him was released, and brought word that his master was a prisoner in their camp." "i heard of it, at the time," the sirdar said, and motioned to gregory to come up. "i am glad to find that you have escaped the fate we feared had befallen you, but your action was altogether wrong. an officer's life is no longer his own, but belongs to the country he serves; and you had no right whatever to risk it when on duty, even in an action which, at any other time, would do you great credit." he spoke sharply and sternly. gregory again saluted. "i knew afterwards that i had done wrong, sir; but i did not stop to think, and acted on the impulse of the moment." "that may be," the sirdar said; "but officers should think, and not act on the impulse of the moment." gregory again saluted, and fell back. three or four minutes later, the two generals separated. general hunter came up to him, and shook him warmly by the hand. "you must not mind what the sirdar said, hilliard. it was a very noble action, and did you credit, and i can assure you that that was the opinion of all who knew you; but to the sirdar, you know, duty is everything, and i think you are lucky in not being sent down, at once, to the base. however, he said to me, after you had left him: "'i shall be too busy this evening, but bring the young fellow with you, tomorrow evening. i must hear how it was that mahmud spared him.' "i told him that i understood, from your black, that the woman was mahmud's favourite wife, and that she took you under her care. "by the way, have you heard that mahmud is captured? yes, he is caught, which is a great satisfaction to us; for his being sent down, a prisoner, will convince the tribesmen that we have gained a victory, as to which they would otherwise be incredulous. i hear that the egyptian brigade, which was to the extreme left, has captured mahmud's wife, and a great number of women." "with your permission, sir, i will go over there at once, and ask colonel lewis that she may receive specially good treatment. she has been extremely kind to me, and it is to her influence over mahmud that i owe my life. up to this morning mahmud would have spared me, but osman digna insisted that i should be killed, and he was obliged to give way. they fastened me to a tree behind the trench, just inside the zareba, and i should certainly have been killed by our own musketry fire, had not my boy, who had come into the camp in disguise, cut my cords. i fell as if shot, and he threw himself down on me; until the camerons burst in, when i at once joined them, and did what little i could in the fight." "i will give you a line to colonel lewis, to tell him that mahmud's wife, whom you will point out, is to be treated with respect; and that her people may be allowed to make her an arbour of some sort, until the sirdar decides what is to be done with her. probably she will be sent down to berber. no doubt we shall all fall back." "then you will not pursue, sir?" "no. the cavalry have already gone off in pursuit of their horsemen, but they are not likely to catch them; for we hear that osman digna is with them, and he seems to enjoy a special immunity from capture. as for the other poor beggars, we could not do it if we wanted to. i expect the campaign is over, for the present. certainly, nothing can be done till the railway is completed; then the gunboats can tow the native craft, abreast of us, as we march along the river bank. "shendy has been captured, and we found twelve thousand jaalin prisoners there, women and children, and a large quantity of stores. that is what makes the position of the dervish fugitives so hopeless. there is nothing before them but to find their way across the desert to omdurman, and i fancy that few of them will get there alive. "no doubt some will keep along by the atbara, and others by the nile. the latter will have the best chance, for the friendlies at kassala will be on the lookout for fugitives. i am sorry for the poor wretches, though they richly deserve the worst that can befall them. they have never shown mercy. for twenty years they have murdered, plundered, and desolated the whole land, and have shown themselves more ferocious and merciless than wild beasts." he took out his pocketbook, wrote the order to colonel lewis; and then, tearing the leaf out, handed it to gregory, who at once made his way, followed closely by zaki, to the spot where two egyptian battalions had halted. they had no difficulty in finding colonel lewis, who was receiving a report, from the officers of the two battalions, of the casualties they had sustained. gregory had met the colonel several times, at berber, and the latter recognized him at once. "ah! major hilliard," that officer said, as he came up; "i am glad to see you. i heard that you had been captured by the dervishes, and killed; but i suppose, as i see you here, that it was only the usual canard." "no, sir. i was captured; but, as you see, not killed, though it has been a pretty close thing. this is a note, sir, that general hunter requested me to give you." colonel lewis read the order. "the women are down over there, a couple of hundred yards away," he said. "i will send a sergeant and four men with you. if you will point out mahmud's wife, i will see that she is made as comfortable as possible." "thank you, sir! it is to her i owe my life, and i am most anxious to do all i can to repay the debt." "you came along through the other brigades. do you know what their losses have been?" "the british losses are not heavy, sir, considering the fire they have been exposed to. macdonald's brigade suffered most, i believe." "yes; i saw one of the officers just now. it seems they came down upon mahmud's picked bodyguard, and these fought desperately. they found mahmud in the usual attitude in which the dervish emirs await death, when they are conquered. he was sitting quietly on his mat, with his arms laid down beside him; and was, i should imagine, somewhat surprised at finding that he was not cut to pieces, at once." "i am glad he was not, sir, for he certainly behaved well to me. it was through the influence of his wife, i admit; but in sparing me he really risked serious disaffection among his followers, and at last gave way only to coercion." the sergeant and men had now come up, and gregory went off with them. three or four hundred women were seated on the ground together, with half a dozen egyptian soldiers standing as sentry over them. more or less closely veiled as they were, gregory could not distinguish fatma among them; and indeed, except when he first reached her in the water, he had not got a glimpse of her features. the question, however, was speedily settled when a woman rose, in the middle of the group, with a cry of gladness. "so you are saved!" she exclaimed, "i have feared so that you were killed. have you news of mahmud?" "yes, lady. he is a prisoner, but well and unharmed. i have obtained an order, from the general, that you are to be treated with honours, as his wife. we cannot do much for you, at present, but all that is possible will be done. i have represented your kindness to me, and these soldiers will at once erect an arbour for you, and food will be brought for you all, as soon as matters have settled down a little." the egyptian soldiers had already begun to cut down saplings. accustomed as they were to the work, in half an hour they had erected an arbour. fatma was then assisted into it, with the other women of the harem. the sergeant gave orders, to the sentries, that no one was to be allowed to interfere in any way with them; and then gregory took his leave, saying that he would return, later on. he again joined general hunter, who seemed to be his natural chief, now that his service in the gunboat was over. the list of casualties was now being brought in. the camerons, who had led the attack in line, had lost most heavily. they had fifteen killed and forty-six wounded, among them being two officers killed, and one mortally wounded. the seaforths had one officer killed and one mortally wounded, and four others less severely; in all, six killed and twenty-seven wounded. the lincolns had one killed and eighteen wounded; the warwicks two killed and eighteen wounded. many of the wounded afterwards died. the egyptians had lost more heavily. the casualties among them were fifty-seven killed; and four british and sixteen native officers, and three hundred and sixty-seven non-commissioned officers and men, wounded. the dervish loss was terrible. three thousand men were killed, among whom were nearly all the emirs; and two thousand were taken prisoners. the rest were hopeless fugitives, and a vast number of these must have been wounded. there was but a short rest for the troops. when the wounded had been collected, and carried to a neighbouring palm grove, where the surgeons did all that could then be done for them; and the trophies of the fight--banners and spears, guns of all sorts, swords and knives--had been gathered, principally by the exultant soudanese and egyptians, the force prepared for a start. "may i ask, general, what is to be done with the women?" gregory said. "i have been speaking to the sirdar about them, and i was just going to ask you to go with me to them. they are, of course, not to be considered as prisoners. they cannot stay here, for they would die of hunger. therefore they had best follow the troops, at any rate as far as the atbara camp. they will have food given them, and must then decide for themselves what they are to do. it is a difficult question, altogether. the only thing that can, at present, be settled is that they mustn't be allowed to die of hunger, and they must be protected against molestation. "the troops will march at four o'clock. the egyptian brigade have volunteered to carry the wounded. they will start later. the women had better follow them. no doubt, some of them will find their husbands among the prisoners, so that there will be no trouble about them." "what will be done with the men, sir?" the general smiled. "tomorrow they will probably enlist in our service, to a man, and will fight just as sturdily as the other soudanese battalions, against their brethren in khartoum. all the prisoners we have hitherto taken who are fit for the work have done so; and, as has been shown today, are just as ready to fight on our side as they were against us. they are a fighting people, and it is curious how they become attached to their white officers, whom formerly they hated as infidels." when the matter was explained to them, the women accepted the situation with the resignation that is natural to the mahometan woman. gregory was able to assure fatma that, in a short time, she would undoubtedly be allowed to join mahmud, and accompany him wherever he was sent. "but will they not kill him?" she said. "we never kill prisoners. even the bitterest enemy that may fall into our hands is well treated. mahmud will doubtless be sent down to cairo, and it will then be settled where he is to be taken to; but you may be sure that, wherever it may be, he will be well treated and cared for." "in that case, i shall be happy," she said. "when you saved me, i saw that the ways of you christians were better than our ways. now i see it still more. to be always raiding, and plundering, and killing cannot be good. it used to seem to me natural and right, but i have come to think differently." at four o'clock the troops marched. at gregory's request, he was allowed to remain behind and accompany the egyptians. he had bought for a few shillings, from the soldiers, a dozen donkeys that had been found alive in some of the pits. these he handed over to fatma, for her conveyance and that of the wives of some of the emirs, who were of the party. the egyptians started at half-past eight, carrying their own wounded and those of the british. by the route by which the army had marched, the night before, the distance was but nine miles; but there had been some rough places to pass, and to avoid these, where the wounded might have suffered from jolting, they made a circuit, thereby adding three miles to the length of the march; and did not reach umdabieh camp until two o'clock in the morning. general hunter, who never spared himself, rode with them and acted as guide. during the fight he, colonel macdonald, and colonel maxwell had ridden at the head of their brigades, the white regimental officers being on foot with the men, as was their custom; and it was surprising that the three conspicuous figures had all come through the storm of fire unscathed. the next morning was a quiet one, and in the afternoon all marched off to the old camp, at abadar. on sunday they rested, and on monday the british brigade marched to hudi, and then across the desert to hermali, where they were to spend the summer. the sirdar rode, with the egyptian brigades, to fort atbara. macdonald's brigade was to go on to garrison berber, maxwell's to assillem, and that of lewis to remain at atbara. the question of the prisoners was already half solved. almost all of them willingly embraced the offer to enlist in the egyptian army. many of the women found their husbands among the prisoners. others agreed, at once, to marry men of the soudanese battalion. the rest, pending such offers as they might receive in the future, decided to remain at atbara. at berber their lot would have been a hard one, for they would have been exposed to the hatred and spite of the jaalin women there, whose husbands had been massacred at metemmeh. fatma, with two attendants only, accompanied macdonald's brigade to berber. on arriving outside the town, the force encamped. next day the sirdar, with his staff and general hunter, came up; and, on the following morning, made a triumphant entry into the town, followed by the soudanese brigade. berber was prepared to do honour to the occasion. flags waved, coloured cloths and women's garments hung from the windows, and the whole population lined the streets, and received the conquerors with cries of welcome and triumph. they had anticipated a very different result, and had fully expected that the army would have been well-nigh annihilated; and that, again, the triumphant dervishes would become their masters. but the sight of mahmud walking, a prisoner, with two guards on each side of him, convinced them that the reports that had reached them were true, that the dervishes had been signally defeated, and that there was no fear of their ever again becoming lords of berber. the sirdar, by whose side general hunter rode, headed the procession, followed by his staff. then, leading his brigade, came macdonald--stern and hard of face, burnt almost black with years of campaigning in the desert--and his staff, followed by the black battalions, erect and proud, maintaining their soldierly bearing amid the loud quavering cries of welcome from the women. gregory had, on his arrival with the brigade the day before, gone into the town; and engaged a small house, in its outskirts, as the abode of fatma and her two attendants, purchased suitable provisions, and made what arrangements he could for her comfort. late in the evening he had escorted her there, and left zaki to sleep in an outhouse attached to it, to secure them from all intrusion. then he went down to the river and, finding the zafir lying there, went on board. he was received as one returned from the dead by captain keppel, lieutenant beatty, and lieutenant hood--the commanders of the other gunboats--who had been dining on board. he had become a general favourite, during the time he had spent with them, and their congratulations on his safe return were warm and hearty. "you may imagine our surprise when, after the fight was over," said captain keppel, "it was discovered that you were missing. no one could imagine what had become of you. one of the blacks who had been working your maxim said they had not noticed your leaving them; and that, when they found you were not there, they supposed you had come to confer with me. then i sent for your man; but he, too, was missing. we searched everywhere, but no signs of you, dead or alive, and no marks of blood were to be found. so it seemed that the matter must remain a mystery. early the next morning, however, we saw a white rag waving on the bank, and then a black entered the water and swam out towards us. i sent the boat to meet him, and when he came on board i found that he was your man, and the mystery was explained. i fancy i used some strong language; for i never before heard of a man being so hare-brained as to spring overboard, in the middle of a battle, and pick up a woman, without saying a word to anyone of what he was doing, and that with the boat still steaming ahead. of course, your man told us that it was mahmud's wife you had saved, and that she had taken you under her protection; but i did not expect that, among those fanatics, your life would be spared. "now, tell us all about your adventures, and how you got down here just in time to see our fellows enter, in triumph. i suppose you managed to give them the slip, somehow?" gregory then told his story. when he had concluded, captain keppel said: "well, you have the luck of the old one! first, you have got hold of as faithful a fellow as is to be found in all egypt, or anywhere else; and, in the second place, you have been in the battle of atbara, while we have been kicking our heels here, and fuming at being out of it altogether, except for our bloodless capture of shendy. "so you say the sirdar blew you up? i am not surprised at that. you know the story of the man who fell overboard, in the old flogging days, and the captain sentenced him to two dozen lashes, for leaving the ship without orders." "i don't think he was really angry; for when i went to him, the next evening, he was a good deal milder. of course, he did say again that i had done wrong, but not in the same tone as before; and he seemed a good deal interested in what i told him about mahmud, and how my boy had risked his life to rescue me, and had succeeded almost by a miracle. he said there is a lot of good in these black fellows, if one could but get at it. they have never had a chance yet; but, given good administration, and the suppression of all tribal feuds with a stern hand, they might be moulded into anything." "and are you coming back to us now, mr. hilliard?" "i have no idea. i don't suppose anything will be settled, for a time. there is not likely to be much doing, anyway, except on the railway; and even your gunboats will have an easy time of it, as there is not an enemy left on this side of the sixth cataract. "the dervishes who escaped are pretty sure to cross the atbara. there are enough of them still, when they rally, to beat off any attacks that might be made by our tribesmen from kassala." chapter : the final advance. a few days after the return of headquarters to berber, mahmud was sent down country, and fatma was permitted to accompany him. she expressed to gregory, in touching terms, her gratitude for what he had done for her. "we have been of mutual assistance," said gregory. "i have the same reason to be grateful to you, as you have to thank me. i saved your life, and you saved mine. you were very kind to me, when i was a captive--i have done as much as i could for you, since you have been with us. so we are quits. i hope you will be happy with mahmud. we do not treat our prisoners badly, and except that he will be away from the soudan, he will probably be more comfortable than he has ever been in his life." gregory was now employed in the transport department, and journeyed backwards and forwards, with large convoys of camels, to the head of the railway. the line was completed to berber, but the officers charged with its construction were indefatigable; and, as fast as the materials came up, it was pushed on towards the atbara. complete as had been the victory on that river, the sirdar saw that the force which had been sufficient to defeat the twenty thousand men, under mahmud, was not sufficiently strong for the more onerous task of coping with three times that number, fighting under the eye of the khalifa, and certain to consist of his best and bravest troops. he therefore telegraphed home for another british brigade, and additional artillery, with at least one regiment of cavalry--an arm in which the egyptian army was weak. preparations were at once made for complying with the request. the st lancers, st battalion of grenadier guards, nd battalion of the rifle brigade, nd battalion of the th lancashire fusiliers, a field battery, a howitzer battery, and two forty-pounders, to batter the defences of omdurman, should the khalifa take his stand, were sent. a strong detachment of the army service corps and the royal army medical corps was to accompany them, but they had yet some months to wait, for the advance would not be made until the nile was full, and the gunboats could ascend the cataract. however, there was much to be done, and the troops did not pass the time in idleness. atbara fort was to be the base, and here the egyptian battalions built huts and storehouses. the soudanese brigades returned to berber, and the transport of provisions and stores for them was thus saved. the british at darmali were made as comfortable as possible, and no effort was spared to keep them in good health, during the ensuing hot weather. a small theatre was constructed, and here smoking concerts were held. there was also a race meeting, and one of the steamers took parties, of the men who were most affected by the heat, for a trip down the nile. they were practised in long marches early in the morning, and although, of course, there was some illness, the troops on the whole bore the heat well. had there been a prospect of an indefinitely long stay, the result might have been otherwise; but they knew that, in a few months, they would be engaged in even sterner work than the last battle, that khartoum was their goal, and with its capture the power of the khalifa would be broken for ever, and gordon avenged. early in april the railway reached abadia, a few miles from berber, and in a short time a wonderful transformation took place here. from a sandy desert, with scarce a human being in sight, it became the scene of a busy industry. stores were sorted and piled as they came up by rail. three gunboats arrived in sections, and these were put together. they were stronger, and much better defended by steel plates than the first gunboats; and each of them carried two six-pounder quick-firing guns, a small howitzer, four maxims, and a searchlight. they were, however, much slower than the old boats, and could do very little in the way of towing. besides these, eight steel double-deck troop barges were brought up, in sections, and put together. three egyptian battalions came up from merawi to aid in the work, which not only included building the gunboats and barges, but executing the repairs to all the native craft, and putting them in a thoroughly serviceable state. in june the railway reached the atbara, and for the first time for two years and a half, the officers who had superintended its construction had a temporary rest. the stores were now transferred from abadia to the atbara, and two trains ran every day, each bringing up something like two hundred tons of stores. in the middle of july two egyptian battalions left atbara and proceeded up the nile, one on each bank, cutting down trees and piling them for fuel for the steamers. as the river rose, four steamers came up from dongola, together with a number of sailing boats; and in the beginning of august the whole flotilla, consisting of ten gunboats, five unarmed steamers, eight troop barges, and three or four hundred sailing boats, were all assembled. by this time the reinforcements from home were all at cairo, and their stores had already been sent up. it was arranged that they were to come by half battalions, by squadrons, and by batteries, each one day behind the other. to make room for them, two egyptian battalions were sent up to the foot of the shabluka cataract. the six black battalions left berber on july th, and arrived at atbara the next day. there were now four brigades in the infantry divisions instead of three, two battalions having been raised from the dervishes taken at the battle of atbara. these were as eager as any to join in the fight against their late comrades. this was scarcely surprising. the baggara, the tyrants of the desert, are horsemen. the infantry were, for the most part, drawn from the conquered tribes. they had enlisted in the khalifa's force partly because they had no other means of subsistence, partly from their innate love of fighting. they had, in fact, been little better than slaves; and their condition, as soldiers in the egyptian army, was immeasurably superior to that which they had before occupied. broadwood, with nine squadrons of egyptian cavalry, was already on the western bank of the river opposite atbara; and was to be joined at metemmeh by the camel corps, and another squadron of horse from merawi. on the rd of august the six soudanese battalions left fort atbara for the point of concentration, a few miles below the cataract. to the sides of each gunboat were attached two of the steel barges; behind each were two native craft. all were filled as tightly as they could be crammed with troops. they were packed as in slavers, squatting by the side of each other as closely as sardines in a box. the seven steamers and the craft they took with them contained six thousand men, so crowded that a spectator remarked that planks might have been laid on their heads, and that you could have walked about on them; while another testified that he could not have shoved a walking stick between them anywhere. white men could not have supported it for an hour, but these blacks and egyptians had a hundred miles to go, and the steamers could not make more than a knot an hour against the rapid stream, now swollen to its fullest. while they were leaving, the first four companies of the rifle brigade arrived. every day boats laden with stores went forward, every day white troops came up. vast as was the quantity of stores sent off, the piles at atbara did not seem to diminish. ninety days' provisions, forage, and necessaries for the whole force had been accumulated there, and as fast as these were taken away they were replaced by others from berber. like everyone connected with the transport or store department, gregory had to work from daybreak till dark. accustomed to a warm climate, light in figure, without an ounce of spare flesh, he was able to support the heat, dust, and fatigue better than most; and, as he himself said, it was less trying to be at work, even in the blazing sun, than to lie listless and sweating under the shade of a blanket. there was no necessity, now, to go down the line to make enquiries as to the progress of the stores, or of the laden craft on their way up. the telegraph was established, and the sirdar, at atbara, knew the exact position of every one of the units between cairo and himself; and from every station he received messages constantly, and despatched his orders as frequently. there was no hitch, whatever. the arrangements were all so perfect that the vast machine, with its numerous parts, moved with the precision of clockwork. everything was up to time. for a train or steamer, or even a native boat, to arrive half an hour after the time calculated for it, was almost unheard of. the sirdar's force of will seemed to communicate itself to every officer under him, and it is safe to say that never before was an expedition so perfectly organized, and so marvellously carried out. at atbara the sirdar saw to everything himself. a brief word of commendation, to those working under him, cheered them through long days of toil--an equally curt reproof depressed them to the depths. twice, when gregory was directing some of the blacks piling large cases, as they were emptied from the train; anathematizing the stupid, urging on the willing, and himself occasionally lending a hand in order to show how it should be done; the sirdar, who, unknown to him, had been looking on, rode up and said shortly, "you are doing well, mr. hilliard!"--and he felt that his offence of jumping overboard had been condoned. general hunter, himself indefatigable, had more occasion to notice gregory's work; and his commendations were frequent, and warm. the lad had not forgotten the object with which he had come to the front. after atbara, he had questioned many of the prisoners who, from their age, might have fought at el obeid; but none of these had done so. the forces of the khalifa came and went, as there was occasion for them. the baggara were always under arms, but only when danger threatened were the great levies of foot assembled; for it would have been impossible, in the now desolate state of the soudan, to find food for an army of a hundred thousand men. all agreed, however, that, with the exception of the egyptian artillerymen, they heard that no single white man had escaped. numbers of the black soldiers had been made slaves. the whites had perished--all save one had fallen on the field. that one had accompanied a black battalion, who had held together and, repulsing all attacks, had marched away. they had been followed, however, and after repeated attacks had dwindled away, until they had finally been broken and massacred. with the khalifa's army were several emirs who had fought at el obeid; and these would, no doubt, be able to tell him more; but none of those who were taken prisoners, at the atbara, had heard of any white man having escaped the slaughter of hicks's army. just as the general movement began, the force was joined by three companies of soudanese. these had marched from suakim to berber, two hundred and eighty-eight miles, in fifteen days, an average of nineteen miles a day--a record for such a march, and one that no european force could have performed. one day, after marching thirty miles, they came to a well and found it dry, and had to march thirty miles farther to another water hole, a feat probably altogether without precedent. "you had better fall back upon your old work, hilliard," the general said, the day before they started. "as my aide i shall find plenty for you to do, now that i command the whole division." "thank you very much, sir! i don't think that i shall find any work hard, after what i have been doing for the past four months." "you have got your horse?" "yes; he is in good condition, for i have had no riding to do, for some time." "well, you had better get him on board one of the gyasses we shall tow up, tomorrow. all our horses will embark this evening. we shall be on board at daybreak. our private camels are going with the marching column; you had better put yours with them. no doubt they will join us somewhere. of course, your kit will be carried with us." it was a delight to gregory to be on the water again. there was generally a cool breeze on the river, and always an absence of dust. he was now halfway between seventeen and eighteen, but the sun had tanned him to a deep brown, and had parched his face; thus adding some years to his appearance, so that the subalterns of the newly-arrived regiments looked boyish beside him. the responsibilities of his work had steadied him, and though he retained his good spirits, his laugh had lost the old boyish ring. the title of bimbashi, which had seemed absurd to him seven months before, was now nothing out of the way, for he looked as old as many of the british subalterns serving with that rank in the egyptian army. returning to the little hut that zaki, with the aid of some of the blacks, had built for him; he gave his orders, and in a short time the camel--a very good one, which he had obtained in exchange for that which he had handed over to the transport--started, with its driver, to join those that were to carry up the baggage and stores of general hunter, and his staff. these were in charge of a sergeant and three privates, of one of the soudanese battalions. gregory had got up a case of whisky, one of bottled fruit, and a stock of tea and sugar from berber. no tents could be carried, and he left his tente d'abri at the stores with his canteen; taking on board, in his own luggage, a plate, knife, fork, and spoon, and a couple of tumblers. when the camels had started, he saw his horse put on board, and then took a final stroll round the encampment. the change that had occurred there, during the past fortnight, was striking. then none but black faces could be seen. now it was the encampment of a british force, with its white tents and all their belongings. the contrast between the newly-arrived brigade, and the hardy veterans who had fought at the atbara, was striking. bronzed and hearty, inured to heat and fatigue, the latter looked fit to go anywhere and do anything, and there was hardly a sick man in the four regiments. on the other hand, the newcomers looked white and exhausted with the heat. numbers had already broken down, and the doctors at the hospital had their hands full of fever patients. they had scarcely marched a mile since they landed in egypt, and were so palpably unfit for hard work that they were, if possible, to proceed the whole way in boats, in order to be in fighting condition when the hour of battle arrived. the voyage up the river was an uneventful one. it seemed all too short to gregory, who enjoyed immensely the rest, quiet, and comparative coolness. the sirdar had gone up a week before they landed at wady hamed. here the whole egyptian portion of the army, with the exception of the brigade that was to arrive the next day, was assembled. the blacks had constructed straw huts; the egyptians erected shelters, extemporized from their blankets; while the british were to be installed in tents, which had been brought up in sailing boats. the camp was two miles in length and half a mile wide, surrounded by a strong zareba. the egyptian cavalry and the camel corps had arrived. on the opposite side of the river was a strong body of friendly arabs, nominally under the abadar sheik, but in reality commanded by major montague stuart-wortley. by the rd of august the whole force had arrived; and the sirdar reviewed them, drawn up in battle array, and put them through a few manoeuvres, as if in action. general gatacre commanded the british division--colonel wauchope the first brigade, and lyttleton the second. as before, macdonald, maxwell, and lewis commanded the first three egyptian brigades, and collinson that newly raised, general hunter being in command of the division. the force numbered, in all, about twenty thousand; and although destitute of the glitter and colour of a british army, under ordinary circumstances, were as fine a body of men as a british general could wish to command; and all, alike, eager to meet the foe. the british division had with them two batteries and ten maxims, and the egyptian division five batteries and ten maxims. as gregory was strolling through the camp, he passed where the officers of one of the british regiments were seated on boxes, round a rough table, over which a sort of awning had been erected. "come and join us, hilliard. we are having our last feast on our last stores, which we got smuggled up in one of the gunboats," the major called out. "with pleasure, sir." the officer who was sitting at the head of the table made room beside him. "you men of the egyptian army fare a good deal better than we do, i think," the major went on. "that institution of private camels is an excellent one. we did not know that they would be allowed. but, after all, it is not a bad thing that we did not have them, for there is no doubt it is as well that the soldiers should not see us faring better than they. there is bother enough with the baggage, as it is. of course, it is different in your case. there are only two or three white officers with each battalion, and it would not strike your black troops as a hardship that you should have different food from themselves. they are living as well as, or better than, they ever did in their lives. three camels make no material addition to your baggage train, while, as there are thirty or forty of us, it would make a serious item in ours, and the general's keen eyes would spot them at once." "our camels are no burden to the army," gregory said. "they only have a few pounds of grain a day, and get their living principally on what they can pick up. when they go on now, they will each carry fifty pounds of private grain. they get five pounds when there are no bushes or grass, so that the grain will last them for a fortnight." "i suppose you think that the dervishes mean fighting?" "i think there is no doubt about it. all the fugitives that come in say that the khalifa will fight, but whether it will be in the defence of omdurman, or whether he will come out and attack us at kerreri, none can say. the khalifa keeps his intentions to himself." "by the bye, hilliard, i don't think you know my right-hand neighbour; he only joined us an hour before we started, having been left behind at cairo, sick. "mr. hartley, let me introduce you to mr. hilliard--i should say bimbashi hilliard. he is on general hunter's staff." the young lieutenant placed an eyeglass in his eye, and bowed to gregory. "have you been in this beastly country long?" he asked. "if you include lower egypt, i have been here eighteen years." "dear me!" the other drawled; "the climate seems to have agreed with you." "fairly well," gregory replied. "i don't mind the heat much, and one doesn't feel it, while one is at work." "hartley has not tried that, yet," one of the others laughed. "work is not in his line. this most unfortunate illness of his kept him back at cairo, and he brought such a supply of ice with him, when he came up, that he was able to hand over a hundredweight of it to us when he arrived. i don't think, major, that in introducing him you should have omitted to mention that, but for a temporary misfortune, he would be the marquis of langdale; but in another two years he will blossom out into his full title, and then i suppose we shall lose him." gregory, whose knowledge of the english peerage was extremely limited, looked puzzled. "may i ask how that is?" he said. "i always thought that the next heir to a title succeeded to it, as soon as his father died." "as a rule that is the case," the major said, "but the present is an exceptional one. at the death of the late marquis, the heir to the title was missing. i may say that the late marquis only enjoyed the title for two years. the next of kin, a brother of his, had disappeared, and up to the present no news has been obtained of him. of course he has been advertised for, and so on, but without success. it is known that he married, but as he did so against the wish of his father, he broke off all communication with his family; and it is generally supposed that he emigrated. pending any news of him, the title is held in abeyance. "he may have died. it is probable that he has done so, for he could hardly have escaped seeing the advertisements that were inserted in every paper. of course, if he has left children, they inherit the title. "after a lapse of five years mr. hartley's father, who was the next heir, and who died five years ago, applied to be declared the inheritor of the title; but the peers, or judges, or someone decided that twenty-one years must elapse before such an application could be even considered. the income has been accumulating ever since, so that at the end of that time, it is probable that mr. hartley will be allowed to assume the title. "will the estates go with the title, hartley?" "oh, i should say so, of course!" the other drawled. "the title would not be of much use, without them." "nonsense, my dear fellow!" another said. "why, a fellow with your personal advantage, and a title, would be able to command the american market, and to pick up an heiress with millions." the general laugh that followed showed that hartley was, by no means, a popular character in the regiment. "the fellow is a consummate ass," the man on gregory's left whispered. "he only got into the service as a queen's cadet. he could no more have got in, by marks, than he could have flown. no one believes that he had anything the matter with him, at cairo; but he preferred stopping behind and coming up by himself, without any duties, to taking any share in the work. he is always talking about his earldom--that is why the major mentioned it, so as to draw him out." "but i suppose he is really heir to it?" "yes, if no one else claims it. for aught that is known, there may be half a dozen children of the man that is missing, knocking about somewhere in canada or australia. if so, they are safe to turn up, sooner or later. you see, as the man had an elder brother, he would not have counted at all upon coming to the title. he may be in some out-of-the-way place, where even a colonial newspaper would never reach him; but, sooner or later, he or some of his sons will be coming home, and will hear of the last earl's death, and then this fellow's nose will be put out of joint. "i am sure everyone in the regiment would be glad, for he is an insufferable ass. i suppose, when he comes into the title, he will either cut the army altogether, or exchange into the guards." the party presently broke up, having finished the last bottle of wine they had brought up. gregory remained seated by the major, discussing the chances of the campaign, and the points where resistance might be expected. the other officers stood talking, a short distance off. presently gregory caught the words: "how is it that this young fellow calls himself bimbashi, which, i believe, means major?" "he does not call himself that, although that is his rank. all the white officers in the egyptian army have that rank, though they may only be lieutenants, in ours." "i call it a monstrous thing," the drawling voice then said, "that a young fellow like this, who seems to be an egyptian by birth, should have a higher rank than men here, who have served fifteen or twenty years." the major got up, and walked across to the group. "i will tell you why, mr. hartley," he said, in a loud voice. "it is because, for the purpose of the war in this country, they know infinitely more than the officers of our army. they talk the languages, they know the men. these blacks will follow them anywhere, to the death. as for mr. hilliard, he has performed feats that any officer in the army, whatever his rank, would be proud to have done. he went in disguise into the dervish camp at metemmeh, before hunter's advance began, and obtained invaluable information. he jumped overboard from a gunboat to save a drowning dervish woman, although to do so involved almost certain capture and death at the hands of the dervishes. in point of fact, his escape was a remarkable one, for he was tied to a tree in the first line of the dervish defences at atbara, and was only saved by what was almost a miracle. he may not be heir to an earldom, mr. hartley, but he would do more credit to the title than many i could name. i hear him well spoken of, by everyone, as an indefatigable worker, and as having performed the most valuable services. captain keppel, on whose gunboat he served for two or three months, spoke to me of him in the highest terms; and general hunter has done the same. "i fancy, sir, that it will be some years before you are likely to distinguish yourself so highly. his father was an officer, who fell in battle; and if he happened to be born in egypt, as you sneeringly said just now, all i can say is that, in my opinion, had you been born in egypt, you would not occupy the position which he now does." gregory had walked away when the major rose, and he did not return to the party. it was the first time that he had run across a bad specimen of the british officer, and his words had stung him. but, as he said to himself, he need not mind them, as the fellow's own comrades regarded him, as one of them said, as "an insufferable ass." still, he could not help wishing, to himself, that the missing heir might turn up in time to disappoint him. general hunter started next day, at noon, with two of his brigades and the mounted troops; the other two brigades following, at nightfall. the previous night had been one of the most unpleasant gregory had ever spent. the long-expected rain had come at last. it began suddenly; there was a flash of lightning, and then came a violent burst of wind, which tore down the tents and the flimsy shelters of the egyptians and soudanese. before this had ceased, the rain poured down in a torrent; lightning, wind, and rain kept on till morning, and when the start was made, everyone was soaked to the skin. the egyptian baggage left at the same time, in native craft. that evening they arrived at the mouth of the shabluka cataract. here it had been expected that the advance would be opposed, as strong forts had been erected by the enemy, the river narrowed greatly, and precipitous rocks rose on either side. through these the course was winding, and the current ran with great strength, the eddies and sharp bends making it extremely difficult for the gunboats to keep their course. indeed, it would have been impossible for them to get up, had the forts been manned; as they would have had to pass within two hundred yards of the guns. but although the forts could hardly have been attacked by the gunboats, they were commanded by a lofty hill behind them; and the scouts had discovered, some weeks before, that the dervishes had retired from the position, and that the passage would be unopposed. maxwell's and colville's brigades started at four that afternoon, and the next day the whole division was established at el hejir, above the cataracts. lyttleton's brigade started, at five o'clock a.m. on the th, the gunboats and other steamers moving parallel with them along the river. at five in the afternoon the first brigade followed and, two days afterwards, the camp was entirely evacuated, and the whole of the stores well on their way towards el hejir. on the previous day, two regiments of wortley's column of friendly natives also marched south. the sirdar and headquarters, after having seen everything off, went up in a gunboat, starting at nine in the morning. as usual, the soudanese troops had been accompanied by a considerable number of their wives, who were heavily laden with their little household goods, and in many cases babies. they trudged patiently along in the rear of the columns, and formed an encampment of their own, half a mile away from the men's, generally selecting a piece of ground surrounded by thick bush, into which they could escape, should dervish raiders come down upon them. the stores arrived in due course. one of the gunboats, however, was missing--the zafir, with three gyasses in tow, having suddenly sunk, ten miles north of shendy, owing to being so deeply loaded that the water got into the hold. those on board had just time to scramble into the boats, or swim to shore. no lives were lost, though there were many narrow escapes. among these were commander keppel and prince christian victor, who were on board. fortunately, another steamer soon came along and took the gyasses, with the ship-wrecked officers and crew on board, and towed them up to el hejir. it had been intended to stay here some little time, but the nile continued to rise to an altogether exceptional height, and part of the camp was flooded. at five o'clock, therefore, the egyptian brigades started, with the guns on their right and the steamers covering their left, while the cavalry and camel corps were spread widely out, in advance to give notice of any approaching dervish force. as usual the soldiers' wives turned out, and as the battalions marched past, shouted encouragement to their husbands; calling upon them to behave like men, and not to turn back in battle. the presence of the women had an excellent effect on the soldiers, and in addition to their assistance in carrying their effects, they cooked their rations, and looked after them generally. the sirdar, therefore, did not discourage their presence in the field, and even supplied them with rations, when it was impossible for them to obtain them elsewhere. in the afternoon the two white brigades also moved forward. at nine o'clock they arrived at their camping ground, and the whole army was again collected together. next morning the four squadrons of egyptian horse, with a portion of the cavalry, went forward to reconnoitre, and one of the gunboats proceeded a few miles up the river. neither saw anything of the enemy. there had been heavy rain during the night. this had ceased at daybreak, and a strong wind speedily dried the sands, raising such clouds of dust that it was difficult to see above a few yards. the storm had also the effect of hindering the flotilla. on the other side of the river, stuart-wortley's friendlies had a sharp brush with some dervishes, whom they had come upon raiding a village, whose inhabitants had not obeyed the khalifa's orders to move into omdurman. as the rainstorms continued, it was decided, by a council of war, that the health of the troops would suffer by a longer stay. on the th, therefore, the army set out in order of battle, ready to encounter the khalifa's attack, but arrived without molestation at um teref, a short distance from kerreri, where it was expected the enemy would give battle. the camp was smaller than those hitherto made, and was protected by a strong zareba. the sentries were doubled, and patrols thrown out. heavy rain set in after sunset, and almost a deluge poured down. the tents had been left behind, and as the little blanket shelters were soon soaked through, their occupants were speedily wet to the skin. it was still raining when, at half-past five, the force again started. as before, the army was marching in fighting order. the day was cool and cloudy, and at one o'clock they halted at a village called merreh, or seg. the cavalry had come into touch with the dervish patrols, but the latter, although numerous, avoided combat. in one of the deserted villages was found one of wingate's spies, in dervish attire. he had left omdurman thirty hours before, and brought the news that the khalifa intended to attack at kerreri. this place had been chosen because there was current an old prophecy, by a persian sheik, to the effect that english soldiers would one day fight at kerreri, and be destroyed there. it had, therefore, become an almost holy place to the mahdists, and was called the death place of all the infidels; and, once a year, the khalifa and his followers made a pilgrimage to it. a few shots were fired during the night, and fires blazed on the hills to notify, to omdurman, our precise position. the troops started again soon after daylight, facing now to the right and marching westward, to leave the bush and broken ground, and get out in the open desert, stretching away to omdurman. the cavalry were widely spread out, and the lancers ascended to the top of the hill of el teb, from which a view of the dervish camp was obtained. it lay some ten miles due south. the dervishes were disposed in three long lines, stretching from within two thousand yards of the nile out into the desert, being careful to get, as they believed, beyond the range of the four gunboats that steamed quietly up. after a short march the force halted near the river, two miles north of kerreri. the place was convenient for camping, but the banks of the river were steep, and there was much difficulty in watering the horses and transport animals. "we are in for another bad night," one of the general's staff said to gregory, as the evening approached. "it looks like it. clouds are banking up fast. if the rain would but come in the daytime, instead of at night, one would not object to it much. it would lay the dust and cool the air. besides, on the march we have other things to think of; and though, of course, we should be drenched to the skin, we should not mind it. but it is very unpleasant lying in a pool of water, with streams running in at one's neck." "as to one's blanket, it is like a sponge, five minutes after the rain begins," the officer said. "i am better off in that respect," gregory remarked; "for, when i left my little tent behind, i kept a waterproof sheet instead of my second blanket. i had intended to use it tent fashion, but it was blown down in a minute, after the first storm burst. now i stand up, wrap my blanket tightly round me, while my boy does the same with the waterproof sheet; and i keep moderately dry, except that the water will trickle in at the end, near my neck. but, on the other hand, the wrapping keeps me so hot that i might almost as well lie uncovered in the rain." the staff had intended taking a few tents with them, but these were practically of no use at all, as all canvas had to be lowered by the time that "lights out" sounded, and after that hour no loud talking was permitted in the camp. this might have been a privation, had the weather been fine, but even the most joyous spirit had little desire for conversation, when the rain was falling in bucketfuls over him. the officers of the white division lay down by their men, in the position they would occupy if an attack by the enemy took place. the officers of the egyptian regiments lay together, just in rear of their men. as soon as the "last post" sounded, absolute silence reigned. the sentries, placed a very short distance out, kept their senses of sight and hearing on the alert; and with eye and ear strove to detect the approach of a lurking foe. jaalin scouts were stationed outside the zareba, so as to give an early warning of the approach of the enemy; but no reliance could be placed upon them; for, altogether without discipline, they would probably creep under bushes, and endeavour to find some shelter from the pitiless downpour. had the khalifa known his business, he would have taken advantage of the tempestuous night, and launched his warriors at the camp. confident as the officers of the expedition were, in the ability of their men to repulse any assault that might be made in the daylight, it was felt that such an attack would cause terrible loss, and possibly grave disaster, if delivered at night. the enemy might not be discovered until within a few yards of the camp. the swish of the rain, and the almost incessant crash of thunder, would deaden the sound of their approach; and, long before the troops could leap to their feet and prepare to receive them calmly, the dervishes would be upon them. as the latter were enormously stronger in numbers, the advantage of superior weapons would be lost in a hand-to-hand fight, and in the inevitable confusion, as the troops in reserve would be unable to open fire, while ignorant of the precise position of friends and foes. the khalifa, however, was relying upon prophecy. it was at kerreri that the infidel army was to be utterly destroyed, and he may have thought that it would be tempting fate, were he to precipitate an action before the invaders reached the spot where their doom had been pronounced. even more miserable than night was the hour before dawn. lying still, drenched to the skin as they were, nature prevailed, and the men obtained some sleep; but when they rose to their feet, and threw off the sodden blankets, they felt the full misery of eight hours' drenching. they were cold now, as well as wet, and as they endeavoured to squeeze the water from their clothes, and to restore circulation by swinging their arms, but few words were spoken; and the rising of the sun, which was regarded as a terrible infliction during the day, was eagerly looked for. no sooner did it appear above the horizon than the spirits of the men rose rapidly, and they laughed, joked, and made light of the inconveniences of the situation. an hour later, their clothes were nearly dry. by that time they were all well on their way, the brigades, as before, marching in echelon--wauchope's brigade on the left, lyttleton's farther to the right but more to the rear, the three egyptian brigades farther out on the plain, the st lancers scouting the ground in front of the british division, and the native cavalry and camel corps out beyond the right of the egyptians. all expected that, at least, they should have a skirmish before they reached kerreri, where they were to encamp; but, as they advanced, it was found that the dervishes had fallen back from that line, and had joined the khalifa's main force near omdurman. by ten in the morning the army had arrived at its camping place, which was in the southern part of the ground occupied by the straggling village. as usual, both extremities of the line rested on the nile, forming a semicircle, in which the baggage animals and stores were placed, in charge of collinson's brigade. the gunboats took up their position, to cover the ground over which an enemy must approach to the attack. while the infantry were settling down, the cavalry and camel corps went out scouting. signallers soon mounted a rugged hill, named surgham, and from here a fine view was obtained of omdurman, and the khalifa's army. omdurman was six miles away, covering a wide tract of ground, with but few buildings rising above the general level, the one conspicuous object being the great tomb of the mahdi, with its white dome. in the outskirts of the town were the white tents of the dervish army. for the present these were unoccupied, the whole force being drawn up, in regular line, out on the plain; about halfway between the town and surgham hill. it was formed in five divisions, each of which was bright with banners of all colours, sizes, and shapes. the khalifa's own division was in the centre, where his great black banner, waving from a lofty flagstaff, could be plainly made out. the lancers, egyptian cavalry, and camel corps continued to advance, capturing several parties of footmen, principally jaalins, who probably lagged purposely behind the retiring dervishes, in order to be taken. at times the cavalry attempted to charge the dervish horsemen, when these approached, but in no case did the latter await the attack. presently, above the occasional musketry fire, came the boom of a heavy gun. there was a thrill of excitement in the camp. the gunboats had arrived opposite omdurman, and had opened fire upon the dervish riverside forts. these were strongly constructed; but, as in the forts at metemmeh and shabluka, the embrasures were so faultily constructed that the guns could only be brought to bear upon the portion of the river directly facing them, and the four gunboats passed them without receiving any material damage, and were so able to maintain the bombardment without receiving any fire in return. at the same time, they landed the forty-pounder guns on an island but a short distance from the town, and thence opened fire with lyddite shells upon it. the howitzers were trained upon the mahdi's tomb, and soon great holes were knocked in the dome. it could be seen, from the top of the hill, that this caused great excitement in the dervish lines, and a number of their horsemen rode out against the lancers, and drove in their advance scouts; but, on the main body of the regiment moving forward, they fell back to their line; and almost immediately a heavy body of infantry moved out, their intention evidently being to surround and cut off the regiment, while at the same time a general advance took place. the colonel of the lancers dismounted a portion of his men, and these checked the advance of the enemy, until the rest fell back. the news of the advance was signalled to general kitchener, and the whole force at once took their position, in fighting order. believing that a general attack on the camp would now be made, the cavalry fell back on either flank, so as to clear the way for the fire of the artillery and infantry. the dervishes had a good view of our camp from the top of surgham, but the khalifa apparently considered that it was too late in the day for a general attack, and drew off his men to their former position, and the rest of the afternoon and evening passed quietly. as the men ate their meal, of tinned meat and biscuit, they were in higher spirits than they had been since the advance began. hitherto, they had been in constant apprehension lest the dervishes should shun a battle, and would retire across the desert to el obeid, or elsewhere; and that they would have to perform interminable desert marches, only to find, on arriving at the goal, that the enemy had again moved off. the events of the day, however, seemed to show that this fear was groundless, and that the khalifa had determined to fight a decisive battle for the defence of his capital. the british soldier is ready to support any fatigue, and any hardship, with a prospect of a fight at the end; and, during the advance, he is always haunted by the fear that the enemy will retire, or give in on his approach. this fear was stronger than usual on this expedition, for there was no question as to the greatly superior mobility of the dervishes; and it was evident that, if they chose to avoid fighting, they had it in their power to do so. chapter : omdurman. the night passed quietly, except that shots were occasionally fired by dervishes who crept up within range; and that, once, a mounted man, who had apparently lost his way, rode fearlessly into camp; and then, finding himself close to the troops, turned his horse and galloped off again. no shot followed him, as the orders were strict that the camp was not to be alarmed, unless in the case of a serious attack. at half past three the bugle sounded, and the troops were soon astir. the animals were watered and fed, and the men had a breakfast of cocoa or tea, with biscuits and tinned meat. at half past four colonel broadwood, commanding the egyptian cavalry, sent out a squadron to the hills on the west, and another to surgham hill. the latter arrived at their destination at two minutes past five, when daylight had just broken. the officer in command saw at once that the dervish army had been reinforced in the night, and were marching to attack us. news was at once sent back to the camp, where all was in readiness for an advance. no news could have been more welcome. it was one thing to attack the dervishes in their chosen position, and to carry the narrow streets of omdurman at the point of the bayonet--the dervishes had shown, at abu hamed, how desperately they could fight under such circumstances--and another to meet them while attacking our position, in the open. this was protected, along the line occupied by the white troops, by a hedge; while the three egyptian brigades had constructed shelter trenches. these afforded a vastly better defence against a foe advancing by daylight, although they would not be so effective in checking a sudden and determined rush, in the darkness. preparations were at once made to oppose the enemy. the sirdar and his staff were already mounting, when the news arrived. the horses were now taken to the rear, the reserve ammunition boxes lifted from the mules' backs, and the animals led to a sheltered position, behind some huts. the guns were wheeled up into positions between the infantry brigades. the troops were disposed in line, two deep; two companies of each battalion, with the stretchers and bearers, taking post at a short distance farther back, to reinforce the front line if hardly pressed, and to supply it from the reserve store of ammunition. already the gunboats had recommenced the bombardment of omdurman, and the mosque of the mahdi, but as soon as news came that the dervishes were advancing to the attack, they were signalled to return to cover the flank of the zareba. on their arrival, they took up a position whence they could shell the line by which the dervishes were advancing, and which would bring them apparently five or six hundred yards west of surgham hill. the lancers at once started forward to cover the left flank of the position. in a few minutes they reached surgham hill, and joined the egyptian squadron there. the sight from the crest of surgham hill was grand. the enemy's front extended over three miles. the lines were deep and compact, and the banners floated above them. they were advancing steadily and in good order, and their battle cries rose and fell in measured cadence. their numbers were variously estimated at from fifty to seventy thousand--a superb force, consisting of men as brave as any in the world, and animated by religious fanaticism, and an intense hatred of those they were marching to assail. in the centre were the khalifa's own corps, twenty thousand strong. on their right was the banner of yacoub, his brother, and beyond, two divisions led by well-known emirs; while on his left was the division led by his son, osman, known as sheik ed din, the nominal commander-in-chief of the whole force. the st lancers, out in skirmishing order, were speedily driven back by the dervishes, and retired into the zareba. when the latter came near enough to see the small british force, a shout of exultation rose from their ranks, for they felt certain now of surrounding and annihilating the infidels, according to the prophecy. on our side the satisfaction was no less marked. the front line moved forward to the thorny hedge, and prepared to open fire above it. the black troops uttered a joyful shout of defiance, as they took their places in their trenches. when the enemy were two thousand eight hundred yards away, the three batteries on the left of the zareba opened fire; and two batteries on the right, and a number of maxims, joined in pouring shell and bullets into the thickest of the dervish mass round the khalifa's banner. the effect was terrible. for a moment the dervish lines halted, astonished at the storm to which they were exposed. but it was only for a moment. the wide gaps were filled up, and at a quicker pace than before, the great line swept on; the banner bearers and baggara horsemen pushing forward to the front, to encourage the infantry. seeing how persistently they were coming on, the sirdar ordered the men of lyttleton's brigade to open fire at long range. the grenadiers were the first to begin, firing volleys in sections. the other regiments of the brigade were soon hard at it, but neither they nor the maxims appeared to be doing serious execution, while the terrible effect of the shell fire could really be seen. but, although great numbers of the enemy were killed or wounded by the bursting shells, there was no halt in the forward movement. suddenly, over the crest and sides of the surgham hill, the division of the dervish right, reinforced by a portion of yacoub's division, appeared; and over fifteen thousand men came streaming down the hill, waving banners and shouting their war cries. they were led by their emirs, on horseback; but the infantry kept pace with these, occasionally discharging their rifles at random. the guns of the three batteries, and one of the maxims, were swung round and opened upon them. they were less than a mile away, and the whole of gatacre's division opened a terrific fire. still the dervishes held on, leaving the ground they passed over white with fallen men. from seventeen hundred yards the sights had to be lowered rapidly, but at a thousand yards they held their foe. no man could cross the ground swept by the hail of balls. so rapid and sustained was the fire, that men had to retire to refill their pouches from the reserve ammunition, and the rifles were so heated that they could no longer be held. in some cases the men changed their weapons for those of the companies in reserve, in others these companies closed up and took the places of the front line. not for a moment was there any cessation in the fire. unable to do more, yacoub's men moved towards the front and joined the main body, whose advance had been checked by the fire of maxwell's egyptian brigade. a few rounds had been fired by the three cannon that the khalifa had brought out with him, but they all fell short. on our side the casualties had been few. in their desperate attempt to get at close quarters, the dervish riflemen had not stopped to reload the weapons they had discharged, and there was practically no return to the awful fire to which they had been exposed. but while yacoub's force had been terribly punished, and the main body, brought to a standstill at a distance of fourteen hundred yards, had suffered almost as heavily, the battle had not gone so well to the right of our position, towards which the khalifa was now moving. broadwood's horse, and the camel corps, had been driven off the hill they occupied; and so fierce was the attack that three of the guns of the horse battery had to be left behind. the camel corps were ordered to retire rapidly, and make for shelter to the right rear of the camp. the force made two or three stands, and the egyptian cavalry more than once charged the pursuing horsemen. the gunboats opened fire, and covered the final retirement of the camel corps, which had lost eighty men. the cavalry did not retire to the zareba, but continued to fall back, occasionally turning and facing the enemy, until they were five miles away; when the dervishes gave up the pursuit, and sat down to rest after their tremendous exertions. although forced to retire, the cavalry had done good service, for they had drawn off a great body of the enemy at a critical moment, and these were unable to return and take part in the battle still raging. at length, the khalifa moved off with all his force behind the western hills, and for a short time there was a lull in the battle. many of the wounded tribesmen crawled up to within seven or eight hundred yards of the zareba, and there opened fire. their aim was good, and men began to drop fast, in spite of the volleys fired to clear off the troublesome foe. but their fire was soon disregarded for, from the ravines in the range of low hills, behind which the khalifa's force had disappeared, a mass of men burst out at a hard run. from their shelter behind surgham hill, a portion of the force who were there also swept down to join the khalifa, while yacoub advanced from the southwest, and another body from the west. instantly the infantry and artillery fire broke out again. on the previous day, the distance had been measured and marked on several conspicuous objects; and the storm of shells tore the ranks of the enemy, and the rifles swept them with a rain of bullets. but, in face of all this, the dervishes continued to advance at a run, their numbers thinning every minute. two or three hundred horsemen, with their emirs, dashed at the zareba at full gallop. shrapnel, maxim and rifle bullets swept their ranks, but nearer and nearer they came, with lessening numbers every yard, until the last of them fell within about two hundred yards of maxwell's line. animated by the example, the infantry rushed forward. the black flag was planted within nine hundred yards of maxwell's left; but, in addition to the egyptian fire, the crossfire of the british divisions poured upon those around it. the main body began to waver, but the khalifa and his emirs did their best to encourage and rally them. the flag was riddled with balls, and the men who held it were shot down; but others seized the post of honour, until a pile of bodies accumulated round it. at last, but one man remained standing there. for a minute he stood quietly immovable, then fell forward dead. then the dervishes lost heart, and began to fall back in ones and twos, then in dozens, until the last had disappeared behind the hills. the troops then turned their attention to the men who, lying in shelter, were still maintaining their fire. there were fully a thousand of these, and the greater portion of our casualties took place from their fire, while the troops were occupied in repelling the main attack. it was not long, however, before bullets and shell proved too much for them; and those who survived crawled away, to join their kinsmen behind the hills. it was eight o'clock now, and the victory had apparently been won. some ten thousand of the khalifa's best troops had been killed or wounded. in the british division, one officer and one man had been killed, and three officers and sixty-five men wounded. the latter were at once placed on board the hospital barges. fresh ammunition was served out and, half an hour after the last shot was fired, the army prepared to march on omdurman. it was most important that they should arrive at the town before ed din's dervishes should reach it; for unless they could do so, the loss that would be incurred in capturing it would be vastly greater than that which had been suffered in the battle. at nine o'clock the start was made. the troops advanced in brigades. lyttleton led on the left, wauchope was on his right, maxwell somewhat in the rear, while still more to the right came lewis, and farther out on the plain macdonald. they formed roughly half a semicircle. lyttleton, followed by wauchope, was to march between the river and surgham hill. maxwell was to cross over the hill, while lewis and macdonald were to keep farther out to the right. collinson's egyptian brigade was to guard the stores and materials left behind. the st lancers scouted ahead of the british brigades, to discover if any foe were lurking behind surgham hill. when about half a mile south of the hill, they saw a small party of dervish cavalry and some infantry, who were hiding in what looked like a shallow water course. the four squadrons rode forward at a gallop. a sharp musketry fire opened upon them, but without hesitation they dashed headlong at the dervishes, when they found that, instead of a hundred and fifty foemen as they had supposed, some fifteen hundred dervishes were lying concealed in the water course. it was too late to draw rein, and with a cheer the cavalry rode down into the midst of the foe. there was a wild, fierce fight, lance against spear, sabre against sword, the butt-end of a rifle or the deadly knife. some cut their way through unscathed. others were surrounded and cut off. splendid feats of heroism were performed. many of those who got over returned to rescue officers or comrades, until at last all the survivors climbed the bank. the brunt of the fighting fell upon the two central squadrons. not only were the enemy thickest where they charged, but the opposite bank of the deep nullah was composed of rough boulders, almost impassable by horses. these squadrons lost sixteen killed and nineteen wounded. altogether, twenty-two officers and men were killed, and fifty wounded; and there were one hundred and nineteen casualties among the horses. once across, the survivors gathered at a point where their fire commanded the water course; and, dismounting, speedily drove the dervishes from it. on examining it afterwards, it was found that sixty dead dervishes lay where the central squadrons had cut their way through. the charge, in its daring and heroism, resembled that of the rd light dragoons at talavera. the fall into the ravine, on that occasion, was much deeper than that into which the lancers dashed; but it was not occupied by a desperate force, and although many were injured by the fall, it was in their subsequent charge, against a whole french division, that they were almost annihilated. both incidents were, like the balaclava charge, magnificent; but they were not war. a desperate charge, to cover the retreat of a defeated army, is legitimate and worthy of all praise, even if the gallant men who make it are annihilated; but this was not the case at talavera, nor at omdurman. it was a brilliant but a costly mistake. the bravery shown was superb, and the manner in which officers and men rode back into the struggling mass, to rescue comrades, beyond all praise; but the charge should never have been made, and the lives were uselessly sacrificed. as yet, all was quiet at other points. bodies of the enemy could be seen, making their way towards omdurman. the battery opposite the town had, from early morning, been keeping up a fire from its heavy guns upon it; but, save for the occasional shot of a lurking dervish, all was quiet elsewhere. while the cavalry charge was in progress, gregory had moved along the line of the egyptian brigades with general hunter. suddenly, from behind the hills where the khalifa had fallen back with his defeated army, a column of fully twelve thousand men, led by the banner bearers and emirs, poured out again. a strong body sprang forward from another valley, and made for the southeastern corner of macdonald's brigade, which had moved almost due west from the position it had occupied in the zareba; while the large force that had chased away the egyptian cavalry were seen, returning to attack him in the rear. general hunter, who was riding between macdonald's and lewis's brigades, which were now a good mile apart, exclaimed to gregory, who happened to be the nearest officer to him: "ride to macdonald, and tell him to fall back, if possible!" then he turned, and galloped off to fetch up reinforcements. but the need was already seen. the sudden uproar had attracted the attention of the whole army, and the sirdar instantly grasped the situation. the moment was indeed critical. if macdonald's brigade were overwhelmed, it might have meant a general disaster; and the sirdar at once sent orders to wauchope's brigade, to go, at the double, to macdonald's aid. fortunately colonel long, who commanded the artillery, had sent three batteries with macdonald's brigade. collinson's brigade were far away near the river, lewis's were themselves threatened. it was evident, at once, that no assistance could reach macdonald in time. when gregory reached him, the dervishes were already approaching. "it cannot be done," macdonald said sternly, when gregory delivered the message. "we must fight!" indeed, to retreat would have meant destruction. the fire would have been ineffective, and the thirty thousand fierce foes would have been among them. there was nothing to do but to fight. macdonald had marched out with the th soudanese on his left, the nd egyptians in the centre, and the th soudanese on the right--all in line. behind, in column, were the th soudanese. the last were at once brought up into line, to face the advancing enemy. fortunately, the sheik ed din's force was still some little distance away. the batteries took their place in the openings between the battalions, and the maxim-nordenfeldts were soon carrying death into the advancing foe; while the martini-henry, with which the black and egyptian troops were armed, mowed them down as by a scythe. the soudanese battalions fired, as was their custom, individually, as fast as they could load; the egyptian battalion by steady volleys. still the enemy pressed on, until they were within two hundred yards of the line. the emirs and other leaders, baggara horse and many spearmen, still held on; until they fell, a few feet only from the steady infantry. the rear ranks of the dervishes now began to fall back, and the desperate charges of their leaders grew feebler; but ed din's division was now within a thousand yards. macdonald, confident that the main attack was broken, threw back the th soudanese to face it, and wheeled a couple of his batteries to support them. the already retreating dervishes, encouraged by the arrival of ed din's division, returned to the attack. the th soudanese swung round, to aid the th in their struggle with ed din's troops. the charges of the dervishes were impetuous in the extreme. regardless of the storm of shell and bullets they rushed on, and would have thrust themselves between the th and th, had not the nd egyptians, wheeling at the double, thrown themselves into the gap. the dervishes pressed right up to them, and bayonet and spear frequently crossed; but in a fight of this kind, discipline tells its tale. the blacks and egyptians maintained their lines, steadily and firmly; and against these, individual effort and courage, even of the highest quality, were in vain. the ground being now cleared, the gunboats opened with maxim and cannon upon the rear of the dervishes. the camel corps coming up, each man dismounted and added his fire to the turmoil; and, finally, three of wauchope's battalions arrived, and the lincolns, doubling to the right, opened a terrible flank fire. the dervishes broke and fled; not, as usual, sullenly and reluctantly, but at full speed, stooping low to escape the storm of bullets that pursued them. zaki had, throughout the day, kept close to gregory, ready to hold his horse when he dismounted; but, quick-footed as he was, he was left behind when his master galloped across to macdonald. he was up, however, in the course of a minute or two, and gregory was glad to see him, for the horse was kicking and plunging at the roar of the approaching enemy; and was almost maddened when to this was added the crash of the batteries and musketry. "put my blanket round his head, zaki," gregory said, when the black ran up. "wrap it round so that he cannot see. hold the bridle with one hand, and stroke him with the other, and keep on talking to him; he knows your voice. i don't want to dismount if i can help it, for with my field glasses i see everything that is taking place, and i will tell you how matters are going." for the moment, it seemed as if the surging crowd streaming down must carry all before it; but the steadiness with which the th soudanese moved into their place on the flank of the line, and the other regiments remained, as if on parade, soon reassured him. the terrible slaughter that was taking place in the ranks of the dervishes soon showed that, in that quarter at least, there was no fear of things going wrong; but he could not but look anxiously towards the great mass of men approaching from the north. it was a matter of minutes. would the present attack be repulsed in time for the position to be changed, to meet the coming storm? occasionally, gregory looked back to see if reinforcements were coming. wauchope's brigade was visible over the tops of the scattered bushes. the movements of the line showed that they were coming on at the double, but they were farther away than ed din's host, and the latter were running like deer. he felt a deep sense of relief when the th soudanese were thrown back, performing the movement as quietly and steadily as if on a drill ground; and two batteries of artillery galloped across to their support. he had hardly expected such calm courage from the black battalion. as to the bravery of the soudanese troops, there was no question. they were of the same blood and race as their foes, and had shown how bravely they could fight in many a previous battle; but he was not prepared for the steady way in which they worked, under such novel circumstances; and although they, too, must have known that every moment was of consequence, they moved without haste or hurry into the new position, scarcely glancing at the torrent which was rushing on towards them. not less steadily and quietly did the th, considered to be the crack regiment of the brigade, swing round; and as calmly and firmly did the egyptian battalion--composed of the peasants who, but twenty years before, had been considered among the most cowardly of people, a host of whom would have fled before a dozen of the dreaded dervishes--march into the gap between the two black regiments, and manfully hold their own. and yet, he could not but feel sorry for the valiant savages who, under so awful a fire, still pressed forward to certain death; their numbers withering away at every step, until they dwindled to nothing, only to be replaced by a fresh band, which darted forward to meet a similar fate; and yet, when he remembered the wholesale slaughter at metemmeh, the annihilation of countless villages and of their inhabitants, and, above all, the absolute destruction of the army of hicks pasha, the capture of khartoum, the murder of gordon, and the reduction to a state of slavery of all the peaceful tribes of the soudan, he could not but feel that the annihilation of these human tigers, and the wiping out of their false creed, was a necessity. when the last shot was fired, he dismounted and leant against his horse, completely unnerved by the tremendous excitement that had been compressed into the space of half an hour. zaki was in ecstasy at the victory. the ruthless massacre of so many of his tribesmen, the ruin of his native village, and the murder of his relations was avenged, at last. the reign of the dervishes was over. henceforth men could till their fields in peace. it was possible that, even yet, he might find his mother and sisters still alive, in the city but a few miles away, living in wretched existence as slaves of their captors. tears of joy streamed down his cheeks. he would have liked to help to revenge the wrongs of his tribe, but his master needed him; and moreover, there was no place for an untrained man in the ranks of the soudanese regiments. they were doing their work better than he could. still, it was the one bitter drop in his intense joy, that he had not been able to aid in the conflict. he expressed this to gregory. "you have had your share in the fight, zaki, just as i have had. i have not fired a shot, but i have been in the battle, and run its risks, and so have you. each of us has done his duty, and we can say, for the rest of our lives, that we have borne our share in the great battle that has smashed up the power of the khalifa, and the rule of the dervishes." chapter : khartoum. there was no pause or rest for the troops who had been fighting, for so many hours, in the heat of the african sun. it was all important to occupy omdurman before the remnants of the khalifa's army reached it; and as it was known that the khalifa himself had returned there, it was hoped that he might be captured. it was ten o'clock when macdonald's brigade fired their last shot. in half an hour, the troops went forward again. the field presented a terrible appearance, being thickly dotted with dead, from the surgham hill across the plain; and round, by the kerreri hills, to the spot where macdonald's brigade had made their stand. there were comparatively few wounded; for, wiry and hardy as they were, the wounded dervishes, unless mortally hit, were for the most part able to crawl or walk away; which they had done unmolested, for on each occasion after the bugle sounded cease firing, not a shot was fired at them. but of dead there were fully ten thousand, scattered more or less thickly over the plain. from the position in which they were placed, the egyptian troops, as they marched south, passed the spot where the khalifa's flag was still flying, as it had been left after its last defenders had fallen. slatin, who was with the army, rode over the plain at the sirdar's request, to ascertain if any of the dervish leaders were among the fallen. he recognized many, but the khalifa, his son ed din, and osman digna were not among them. the last-named had ever been chary of exposing himself, and had probably, as was his custom, viewed the battle from a safe distance. but round the flag were the khalifa's brother, yacoub, and ten or twelve of the leading emirs. on our side, the loss had been comparatively light. our total number of casualties, including the wounded, was five hundred and twenty-four; towards which macdonald's brigade contributed one hundred and twenty-eight. marching steadily on, the force halted in the outlying suburb of omdurman, at midday, to obtain much needed food and water. as soon as the cavalry had watered their horses, they were sent round to the south of the town to cut off fugitives, and some of the gunboats moved up to their support. deputations of the townsfolk, greeks and natives, came out and offered to surrender. they said that the khalifa was in his house, and that he had about a thousand of his bodyguard with him, but that they could not offer any successful resistance. the town was full of fugitive dervishes; many thousands of them were there--among them a great number of wounded. at half past four the sirdar, with his staff, entered the town; accompanied by maxwell's egyptian brigade. only a few shots were fired. the dervish courage was broken. it was to the followers of the prophet, and not to the infidels, that the plains of kerreri had proved fatal. it was their bodies, and not those of the white soldiers, that were strewn there so thickly. the promise of the khalifa had been falsified, the tomb of the mahdi was crumbling into ruins, the bravest of their troops had fallen--what more was there to be done? as slatin pasha rode in at the head of the troops, he was instantly recognized by the people, among whom, for years, he had been a prisoner; and on his assurances that mercy would be shown to all, if there was no resistance, numbers of the dervishes came out from their houses and huts, and laid down their arms. the women flocked out into the streets, uttering their long and quavering cries of welcome. to them the entry of the british was a relief from a living death, as almost all were captives taken in war, or in the dervish raids upon quiet villages. they could scarce even yet believe that they were free--that their tyrants were slain or fugitives. intense was the surprise and relief of the population, when they were told that there would be no looting--no harm done to any by the conquerors; that all would be free, if they chose, to depart to their homes, and to take their few belongings with them. the scene in the town was awful--the stench overpowering! the dervishes were absolutely ignorant of all sanitary methods--pools of the foulest slush abounded, and thousands of dead animals, in all stages of decomposition, lay about the streets. among them were numerous dead bodies, principally of girls and women, who had been killed by their brutal husbands or masters, to prevent them from falling into the hands of the british. there were also many dead dervishes, and others desperately wounded. strangely enough, the latter did not seem to regard their victorious enemy with the hate that had been exhibited by many of the wounded in the field; and some of them half raised themselves, and saluted the sirdar and his staff as they passed along. presently, there was a commotion in the crowd. the wall of the great granary had been breached, by some of the lyddite shells, and the grain had poured out into the street. the natives near ran up to gather it; and, finding that they were not molested by the british, the news spread rapidly. the crowds in the streets melted away; and the inhabitants, for the most part half starved, made a mad rush to the spot, where in a short time many thousands of men, women, and children were hard at work, gathering and carrying off the grain. in the meantime the sirdar, with a party of maxwell's brigade, passed along by the side of the great wall enclosing the buildings, and square mile of ground, in which were the khalifa's house, the tomb of the mahdi, the arsenal, storehouses, and the homes of the principal emirs. as soon as they had turned the corner of the wall, in view of the tomb and the khalifa's house, a brisk fire was opened by the garrison. fortunately, the wall was not loopholed, and they had to get on the top of it, or on to the flat roofs of the houses, to fire. maxwell's men soon silenced them, and on the troops passing in through the breaches, and along the wall, most of the dervishes at once surrendered. for a time, further advance was barred by an inner wall, that still intervened between them and the khalifa's house. after the gunboats' fire had cleared away a number of the dervishes clustered outside the south wall, the sirdar and his staff entered by a gateway, and moved towards the khalifa's house. this was searched by slatin pasha, and several officers and soldiers; but, to the general disappointment, it was found that the khalifa had escaped but a short time before, carrying with him his treasure; his wives having been sent off, as soon as he returned from the field of battle. the mahdi's tomb was a ruin. a large portion of the dome had been knocked away, and the falling fragments had smashed the iron railings that surrounded the tomb, itself. there was nothing more to be done. the pursuit of the khalifa, mounted, as he would be, on fresh horses, was out of the question. it was already almost dark, and men and horses had been at work since before daybreak. the town was in a very disturbed state--large numbers of the dervishes were still possessed of their arms, and the greater portion of the troops were withdrawn from the pestilential town. next morning a larger force was marched in, and the work of disarmament completed. the cavalry went out and scouted the country, and brought in large numbers of prisoners. the men belonging to the tribes that had renounced mahdism--jaalin and others--were at once allowed to leave for their homes; and numbers of others, whose appearance was peaceful, and who had at once given up their arms, were also released; but there were still no fewer than eleven thousand prisoners, among them some of the khalifa's emirs. many of the townspeople had started, the previous evening, for the field of battle; to bury the bodies of their friends who had fallen, and to bring in the wounded. of the latter, after our own men had been attended to, fully nine thousand received aid and attention from the british doctors. on the morning after the occupation, the work of purification began. great numbers of the unwounded prisoners, and of the townspeople, were set to work to clean the streets; and, in a couple of days, the wider thoroughfares and avenues had been thoroughly cleansed. having but little to do, gregory went into the khalifa's arsenal. this building was full of war material of all kinds; including a perfectly appointed battery of krupp guns, numbers of old cannon, modern machine-guns, rifles and pistols; mixed up with musical instruments, suits of chain armour, steel helmets, hundreds of battle flags, and thousands of native spears, swords, and shields. besides these the collection comprised ivory, percussion caps, lead, copper, and bronze, looms, pianos, sewing machines, boilers, steam engines, agricultural implements, ostrich feathers, wooden and iron bedsteads, paints, india rubber, leather water bottles, clothes, three state coaches, and an american buggy. there were also a modern smithy, where gunpowder, shell, bullets, and cartridge cases were made and stored; and a well-appointed engineers' shop and foundry, with several steam engines, turning lathes, and other tools. the machinery had been brought from gordon's arsenal at khartoum, where the foreman had been employed; and the workmen were, for the most part, greeks. the battle was fought on friday, the nd of september. on sunday a flotilla of boats, containing detachments from all the british and egyptian regiments, and every officer who could be spared from duty, proceeded up the river to khartoum. the ruined and deserted city looked delightful, after the sand, dirt, and wretchedness of omdurman. the gardens of the governor's house, and other principal buildings, had run wild; and the green foliage was restful indeed, to the eye, after the waste of sand, rock, and scrub that had been traversed by the army on its way from wady halfa. the vessels drew up opposite a grove of tall palms. beyond them appeared what had been the government house. the upper story was gone, the windows were filled up with bricks, and a large acacia stood in front of the building. the troops formed up before the palace, in three sides of a square--the egyptians were to the left, looking from the river, and the british to the right--the sirdar, and the generals of the divisions and brigades, facing the centre. two flagstaffs had been raised on the upper story. the sirdar gave the signal, and the british and egyptian flags were run up. as they flew out, one of the gunboats fired a salute, the guards' band struck up "god save the queen!" and the band of the th soudanese then played the khedive's hymn, while the generals and all present stood in salute, with their hands to the peak of their helmets. the sirdar's call for three cheers for the queen was enthusiastically responded to, every helmet being raised. similar cheers were then given for the khedive, the bands again struck up, and twenty-one guns were fired. as the last gun echoed out, the guards played the dead march, in saul; and the black band the march called toll for the brave, the latter in memory of the khedive's subjects, who had died with gordon. then minute guns were fired, and four chaplains--anglican, presbyterian, methodist, and catholic--by turns read a psalm or a prayer. the pipers then wailed a dirge, and finally the soudanese bands played gordon's favourite hymn, abide with me. at the conclusion, general hunter and the other officers shook hands with the sirdar, one by one. kitchener himself was deeply moved, and well he might be! fourteen years of his life had been spent in preparing for, and carrying out, this campaign; and now the great task was done. gordon was avenged. of the dervish host, the remnant were scattered fugitives. the mahdi's cause, the foulest and most bloodstained tyranny that had ever existed, transforming as it did a flourishing province into an almost uninhabited desert, was crushed forever; and it was his patient and unsparing labour, his wonderful organization, that had been the main factor in the work. no wonder that even the iron sirdar almost broke down, at such a moment. the bugles sounded, and the troops broke up their formation; and, for half an hour, wandered through the empty chambers of the palace, and the wild and beautiful garden. another bugle call, and they streamed down to the water's edge, took to the boats, and returned to omdurman. the long-delayed duty, which england owed to one of her noblest sons, had been done. gordon had had his burial. none knew where his bones reposed, but that mattered little. in the place where he was slain, all honour had been done to him; and the british flag waved over the spot where he disappeared, forever, from the sight of his countrymen. on gregory's return, he found zaki in a state of the highest excitement. "why, what is the matter with you, zaki?" "oh, master, i have found my two sisters!" "that is good news, indeed. i am very glad to hear it, zaki. how did you find them?" "while you were away, master, i had been walking through the town; and when i was passing near the outskirts, a woman came to a door, and looked very hard at me. then she suddenly drew aside the cloth from her face and cried, 'surely it is zaki!' "then i knew her--she was my elder sister. then another woman came to the door--it was my younger sister, and you can imagine my joy. both had been married to baggaras, who had carried them off. their husbands had gone to the battle, and had not returned; and some neighbours who had gone to the battlefield, next day, brought back news that they had found both bodies; so one sister came to stay with the other. people had told them that it was safe to go out, and that no one was injured who did so; but they had a store of grain in the house, and they decided to wait and see what happened. "one of them, seeing me come along, and observing that i belonged to the jaalin, came out to ask me the news; and they were as delighted as i was, at our meeting." "and your mother, do they know anything of her?" "she was killed, master," zaki said sorrowfully. "i thought possibly it would be so. the dervishes did not carry off old women. they killed them, and the little children. i had never hoped to see her again; but i did think, when we entered omdurman, that my sisters might be here." "what are they going to do?" "they will go down to berber. i have told them that many of the people here are going down, and that they will find no difficulty in joining a party. they are sure to find people they know, at berber, for most of the jaalin who have escaped have gone there, since we occupied the place. i told them that i would give them what money i had; for, since i have been in my lord's service, i have had no occasion to spend aught that he has paid me." "i have no doubt, zaki, that i can arrange for them to go down in one of the empty store boats. i believe that many of the captives who have been released will be sent down that way; and, of course, i shall be glad to give your sisters enough to keep them, for some time, at berber." "my lord is too good," zaki said gratefully. "nonsense, zaki! you saved my life, and i owe you a great deal. i will go down, at once, to the river--that is, if your sisters are ready to start tomorrow--and i have no doubt the transport officer will give me an order, for them, to go in one of the boats." as he had expected, he had no difficulty in making arrangements. several of the native boats, that had already landed their stores, would leave on the following day; and gregory obtained an order for the passage of the two women. he then drew some money from the paymaster and, on his return to headquarters, gave zaki a hundred dollars for his sisters. the black was overpowered with joy and, going off, returned with the two girls--for they were little more. each took one of gregory's hands, and pressed it to her forehead and heart, and murmured her thanks. "do not thank me," he said. "it is but a small part of the debt that i owe your brother. i do not know whether he has told you that he saved my life, at the risk of his own." "i have been thinking, my lord," zaki said, "that it would be well for them to go down in the boat as far as dongola. our village is not many miles from that place, and many of our people fled there; and doubtless they will return to their villages, and plant their fields, now that they have no longer any fear of the dervishes. at any rate, they are certain to meet friends, at dongola." "very well, i will get the order altered. there will be no difficulty about that. i shall be very glad to know that you will have a home to go to, when this war is quite over." "i shall never go, as long as my lord will keep me," zaki said, fervently. "i certainly shall not part with you, zaki, as long as i remain in this country, which will probably be for a long time." the next day, zaki aided in carrying his sisters' goods down to the river bank, and saw them on board one of the native craft, which carried also fifteen or twenty other fugitives. "now, mr. hilliard," general hunter said, that morning, "you can devote yourself to the object for which you came here. unquestionably, there must be many among the prisoners who fought at el obeid. you may gather all particulars of the battle, from their lips. "the greater portion of the white troops will march down the country, at once. of course, i don't know what your plans may be; but unless you have a very good reason to the contrary, i should certainly advise you to retain your position in the egyptian army. a great deal of work will have to be done, before matters are quite settled down; and then civil administration of some sort will, of course, be formed, under which you would certainly obtain a far better post than you could hope to get, at home." "i have quite made up my mind to do so, sir. certainly, when i left cairo, i had no idea of remaining permanently in the service; but i have been so exceptionally fortunate, owing largely to your kindness, that i have been seriously thinking the matter over; and am quite determined that, if i can obtain an appointment, i will remain here. i have no ties, whatever, either in lower egypt or in england; no way of earning my living there; and possibly, as i have begun so early, i may rest, in time, in what will no doubt become an important branch of the egyptian administration." "i am glad to hear that you take that view. we all grumble at the soudan, and yet there are few of us but would be sorry to leave it; and there can be no doubt whatever that, under our administration, it will, in time, become a magnificently rich and fertile province." being relieved from other duty, at present, gregory went to the great yard near the mosque, called the praying square, where the majority of the dervish prisoners were confined. addressing a man of some five-and-forty years, he asked him, in arabic, whether many among the prisoners had fought against hicks, at el obeid. the man hesitated. "i am not asking on the part of the sirdar," gregory said; "and you may be sure that, if no punishment is inflicted against those who have fought against us now, there can be no thought of punishment, for a thing that happened so many years ago. my father was, i believe, one of the english officers killed there; but as he spoke arabic well, it is just possible he was not killed; but, like slatin and neufeld, was kept as a slave, in case he might be useful." "there are many here who fought against hicks," the native said. "i myself fought there, and nearly all the baggara who are as old as i am were there, also. i have never heard of a white man who escaped death. when we broke into the square, the english general and his officers charged into the middle of us, and all fell. i was not close at the time, but i saw their bodies, an hour afterwards." "my father was not a fighting officer. he was the interpreter, and may not have been near the others. when the attack by your people was made, i have heard that one of the soudanese regiments held together, and marched away, and that there was a white officer with them." "that was so. two days afterwards, we surrounded them. they fought hard; and at last, when we had lost many men, we offered that, if they would surrender and become the mahdi's men, they would be spared. most of them did so, just as some of our tribesmen, taken by you at atbara, have now taken service with you." "but the white officer--what became of him?" "i cannot say," the native said. "i have no memory of him. he may have fallen before they surrendered--who can say? certainly, i do not remember a white man being killed, after they did so. i will ask others who were there, and tomorrow will tell you what they say." it was a busy day, in omdurman. the army that had made such efforts, and achieved so great a triumph, marched in military order, with bands playing, through the town. the sirdar had a double motive, in ordering them to do so. in the first place, it was a legitimate triumph of the troops, thus to march as conquerors through the town. in the second place the sight would impress, not only the inhabitants, but the dervish prisoners, with a sense of the power of those who, henceforth, would be their masters; and, undoubtedly, the show had the desired effect. the orderly ranks, as they swept along, the proud demeanour of the men, their physique and equipment, created a profound impression among the natives. half of them were their own kinsmen, many of whom had fought for the khalifa, and had now aided in defeating him. this was what had been accomplished by drill and discipline, and the influence of white officers. the soudanese were evidently well fed and cared for; not even the haughty baggara held their heads so high. especially admired were the artillery, battery following battery, in perfect order. these were the guns that had carried death into the ranks of the dervishes, against whose fire even the fanatical bravery of the followers of the khalifa was unable to stand. when the march past was concluded, there was scarce one of the prisoners who would not gladly have enlisted. on the following day, gregory again went to the praying square. the man he had the morning before seen, at once came up to him. "i have enquired of many who were at el obeid, my lord," he said. "all say that there was no white man in the camp, when the black battalion surrendered, though one had been seen while the fighting was going on. nor was the body of one found, where the fight had taken place on the previous day. it was a matter of talk among the dervishes, at the time; for they had lain in a circle round the enemy, and were convinced that no one passed through their lines. those who surrendered said that he had taken the command, and had exposed himself to the hottest fire, and encouraged them; telling them that the more bravely they defended themselves, the more likely they were to obtain favourable terms. the night before, he had advised them to accept any offer the dervishes might make, but on the following morning he was missing, and none could give any account of what had become of him. the same tale is told by all to whom i have spoken." the story made a profound impression upon gregory. it seemed possible that the father, of whom he had no remembrance, might have been the sole white survivor of hicks's army. true, there was nothing to prove that he was the white man who had joined the black battalion that escaped the first day's massacre. there were other non-combatants: vizitelly, the artist of the illustrated london news, and o'donovan, the correspondent of the daily news. either of these might also have been at any other portion of the square, when the attack commenced, and unable to join hicks and his officers, in their final charge into the midst of the enemy. still, it was at least possible that his father was the man who had retired from the field, with the black battalion; and who had, afterwards, so strangely disappeared. if so, what had become of him, all these years? had he made off in disguise, only to be murdered by wandering bands? had he been concealed, for months, in the hut of a friendly tribesman? what had he been doing, since? had he been killed, in trying to make his way down? had he been enslaved, and was he still lingering on, in a wretched existence? he could hardly hope that he had fallen into friendly hands; for, had he been alive, he would surely have managed, with his knowledge of the country, to make his way down; or to reach khartoum, when it was still held by the egyptians. at any rate, gregory concluded that he might find out whether any european had arrived there, during the siege. he went down to the river, and took a native boat across to khartoum. at the ceremony, on sunday, many natives watched the arrival of the flotilla; and some of these might have been there, in gordon's time. he had no great hopes of it, but there was just a chance. the flags were still flying over the governor's house, when he landed, and a detachment of egyptian troops was stationed there. a native officer came down, when he landed. "i have come across to question some of the natives," he said. "i believe some are still living here." "oh, yes, bimbashi! there are a good many, scattered about among the ruins. they come in, bringing fruit and fish for sale. i think they mostly live down by the riverside." gregory kept on, till he came to the huts occupied by the fishermen, and men who cultivated small plots of ground. he found several who had lived at khartoum, when it was captured; and who had escaped the general massacre, by hiding till nightfall, and then making their way up the river, in boats. none of them could give him the information he sought, but one suggested that he was more likely to hear from the greeks and turks, who worked in the khalifa's arsenal and foundries; as they had been spared, for the services they would be able to render to the mahdi. returning to omdurman, he went to the machine shop. here work had already been resumed, as repairs were needed by several of the gunboats. he went up to the foreman, a man of some sixty years of age. "you were engaged in the city during the siege, were you not?" he said, in arabic, with which he knew the foreman must be thoroughly acquainted. "yes, sir, i had been here ten years before that." "i am very anxious to learn whether any white man, who had survived the battle of el obeid, ever reached this town before its capture." the man thought for some time. "yes," he said, "a white man certainly came here, towards the end of the siege. i know, because i happened to meet him, when i was going home from work; and he asked me the way to the governor's. i should not have known him to be a white man, for he had a native attire; and was as black, from exposure to the sun, as any of the arabs. i gave him directions, and did not ask him any questions; but it was said, afterwards, that he was one of hicks's officers. later, i heard that he went down in the steamer with colonel stewart." "you did not hear his name?" gregory asked, anxiously. "no, sir." "did he talk arabic well?" "extremely well. much better than i did, at the time." "do you remember how long he arrived before the steamer started?" "not very long, sir, though i really cannot tell you how long it was." "after you were cut off, i suppose?" "certainly it was, but i cannot say how long." "no one else, here, would know more about it than you do?" "no, sir; i should think not. but you can ask them." he called up some of the other workmen. all knew that a white officer, of hicks pasha's army, was said to have returned. one of them remembered that he had come down once, with gordon, to see about some repairs required to the engines of a steamer; but he had never heard his name, nor could he recall his personal appearance, except that he seemed to be a man about thirty. but he remembered once seeing him, again, on board stewart's steamer; as they had been working at her engines, just before she started. after thanking the foreman, gregory returned to the hut, where he and two other officers of hunter's staff had taken up their quarters. he was profoundly depressed. this white man might well have been his father; but if so, it was even more certain than before that he had fallen. he knew what had been the fate of stewart's steamer, the remains of which he had seen at hebbeh. the colonel, and all with him, had accepted the invitation of the treacherous sheik of that village, and had been massacred. he would at least go there, and endeavour to learn, from some of the natives, the particulars of the fate of those on board; and whether it was possible that any of the whites could have escaped. after sitting for some time, in thought, he went to general hunter's quarters, and asked to see him. the general listened, sympathetically, to his story. "i never, for a moment, thought that your father could have escaped," he said; "but from what you tell me, it is possible that he did so, only to perish afterwards. but i can well understand how, having learnt so much, you should be anxious to hear more. certainly, i will grant your request for leave to go down to hebbeh. as you know, that place was taken and destroyed, by the river column under earle; or rather under brackenbury, for earle had been killed in the fight at kirkeban. numerous relics were found of the massacre, but the journal stewart was known to have kept was not among them. had it been there it would, no doubt, have mentioned the survivor of hicks's army, who was coming down the river with him. "the place was deserted when brackenbury arrived. it certainly was so, when we came up. since then, some of the inhabitants have probably returned; and may know of places where plunder was hidden away, on the approach of brackenbury's column. no doubt the offer of a reward would lead to their production. "you may not have to be absent long. the british regiments are to go down at once, and several steamers will start tomorrow. i will give you an order to go with them. you will have no difficulty in getting back, for the sirdar has already decided that the railway is to be carried on, at once, from atbara to khartoum; and has, i believe, telegraphed this morning that material and stores are to be sent up, at once. most of these will, no doubt, be brought on by rail; but grain, of which large quantities will be required, for the use of our troops and of the population of the town, will come on by water. "but, no doubt, your quickest way back will be to ride to abu hamed, and take the train up to atbara." "i will be back as soon as i can, general. i am much obliged to you, for letting me go." "i will tell the sirdar that i have given you leave, and why. it is not absolutely necessary, but it is always well that one's name should be kept to the front." the next day, gregory saw the general again. "i mentioned, to the sirdar, that you wanted a fortnight's leave, and told him why. he simply nodded, and said, 'let him have a month, if he wants it.' "he had other things to think of; for, this morning, a small dervish steamer came down the white nile. they had the khalifa's flag flying, and had not heard of what had taken place, till one of the gunboats ran alongside her. of course she surrendered, at once. "it is a curious story they told. they left omdurman a month ago with the sapphire, which carried five hundred men. the object of the voyage was to collect grain. when they reached the old station of fashoda, they had been fired upon by black troops, with some white men among them, who had a strange flag flying. the firing was pretty accurate, for they had forty men killed and wounded; and the emir in command had disembarked, and encamped his troops from the sapphire on the opposite bank, and had sent the small steamer back, to ask the khalifa for orders. "the story seemed so strange, and improbable, that i went down with the sirdar to the boat, which had been brought alongside. there was no doubt that it had been peppered with balls. some of the general's staff cut one of the bullets out of the woodwork, and these fully confirmed the story. they were not leaden balls, or bits of old iron, but conical nickel bullets. they could only have been fired from small-bore rifles, so there were certainly white men at fashoda. of course, no one can form any opinion as to who they are, or where they come from. they may be belgians from the congo. they may--but that is most improbable--be an expeditionary party of italians. but italy is withdrawing, and not pushing forward, so i think it is out of the question that they are concerned in the matter. "the question seems to lie between belgians and french, unless an expedition has been sent up from our possessions on the great lakes. the dervishes in the steamer can only say that the flag is not at all like ours; but as their ignorance of colour is profound, they give all sorts of contradictory statements. anyhow, it is a serious matter. certainly, no foreign power has any right to send an expedition to the nile; and as certainly, if one of them did so, our government would not allow them to remain there; for, beyond all question, fashoda is an egyptian station, and within egyptian territory; which is, at present, as much as to say that a foreign power, established there, would be occupying our country." "it seems an extraordinary proceeding, sir." "very extraordinary. if it were not that it seems the thing has absolutely been done, it would seem improbable that any foreign power could take such an extraordinary, and unjustifiable, course. it is lucky for them, whoever they are, that we have smashed up the dervishes; for they would have made very short work of them, and the nation that sent them would probably never have known their fate." chapter : a voice from the dead. that afternoon, gregory heard that orders had been issued for five of the gunboats to start up the river, the first thing in the morning; that the sirdar himself was going, and was to take up five hundred men of the th soudanese. an order was also issued that all correspondents were to leave, the next day, for cairo. gregory had met one of them, that evening. "so you are all off, i hear, mr. pearson?" "yes; we did have a sort of option given us, but it was really no choice at all. we might go down instantly, or we must stay till the last of the white troops had gone down. that may be a very long time, as there is no saying what may come of this fashoda business. besides, the khalifa has fairly escaped; and if, out of the sixty thousand men with him, some thirty thousand got off, they may yet rally round him: and, in another two or three months, he may be at the head of as large a force as ever. i don't think, after the way the egyptians fought the other day, there will be any need for white troops to back them. still, it is likely that a battalion or two may be left. however, we had practically to choose between going at once, or waiting at least a month; and you may be sure that the censorship would be put on, with a round turn, and that we should not be allowed to say a word of the fashoda business, which would be the only thing worth telegraphing about. so we have all voted for going. "of course, we understand that this pressure has been put upon us, on account of this curious affair at fashoda. fortunately, none of us are sorry to be off. there is certain to be a pause, now, for some time; and one does not want to be kicking one's heels about, in this ghastly town; and though it is rather sharp and peremptory work, i cannot say that i think the sirdar is wrong. whoever these men may be, they must go, that is certain; but of course it will be a somewhat delicate business, and france--that is, if they are frenchmen who are there--is sure to be immensely sore over the business; and it is certainly very desirable that nothing should be written, from here, that could increase that feeling. i have no doubt the sirdar telegraphed home, for instructions, as soon as he got the news of the affair; and i imagine that his going up in the morning, with five gunboats, is proof that he has already received instructions of some sort. "i hope this force is not french. the feeling against us is tremendously strong, in france, and they certainly will not like backing down; but they will have to do that or fight and, with all their big talk, i don't think they are ready to risk a war with us; especially as, though their occupation of fashoda would be an immense annoyance to us, it would be of no possible utility to them. "by the way, we have all got to sell our horses. there is no possibility of taking them down, and it is a question of giving them away, rather than of selling; for, of course, the officers of the british regiments do not want to buy. i have a horse for which i gave twenty-five pounds, at cairo. you are welcome to him. you can give me a couple of pounds, for the saddle and things." "i am very much obliged to you, but it would be robbery." "not at all. if you won't take him, i shall have him shot, tonight. a horse could not possibly pick up food here, and would die of starvation without a master; and it would be still more cruel to give him to a native, for they are brutal horse masters." "well, in that case i shall be glad, indeed, to have him; and i am extremely obliged to you." "that is right. if you will send your man round, i will hand it over to him." "as you are going tomorrow, it is likely that i shall go with you; for i am going down, also, as far as abu hamed, for ten days." "that will be pleasant, though i do not know that it will be so for you; for i own the majority of us are rather sour-tempered, at present. though we may be glad enough to go, one does not care to be sent off at a moment's notice, just as fractious children are turned out of a room, when their elders want a private chat. however, for myself, i am not inclined to grumble. i want to go, and therefore i do not stand on the order of going." later, general hunter gave gregory an order, for a passage in a steamer on which the correspondents of the various newspapers were going down. "what shall we take, master?" zaki asked. "just the clothes we stand in, zaki. i have got a couple of the dervish remingtons, and several packets of ammunition. i will take them, and i can get four more. we will take them all down, as we know the people about hebbeh are not disposed to be friendly. i don't suppose, for a minute, that they are likely to show any hostile feeling; for you may be sure that the fall of omdurman has spread, by this time, over the whole land, and they will be on their best behaviour. still, it is just as well to be able to defend ourselves, and i shall engage four men at abu hamed to go with us. i shall leave all my kit here." it was a pleasant run down the river, to atbara. the correspondents were all heartily glad to be on their way home; and the irritation they had at first felt, at being so suddenly ordered away, at the moment when so unexpected and interesting a development occurred, had subsided. they had witnessed one of the most interesting battles ever fought, had seen the overthrow of the mahdi, and were looking forward to european comforts and luxuries again. at atbara all left the steamer, which was to take in stores, and go up again at once; and proceeded, by a military train, with the first of the returned european regiments. at abu hamed, gregory left them. his first enquiry was whether any boats were going down the river. he learned that several native craft were leaving, and at once engaged a passage in one of them to hebbeh. he had no difficulty, whatever, in engaging four sturdy arabs from among those who were listlessly hanging round the little station. while he was doing this, zaki bought food for six men, for a week; and in less than two hours from his arrival at abu hamed, gregory was on board. the boat at once dropped down the river and, as the current was running strongly, they were off hebbeh next morning, at eight o'clock. a boat put off, and took gregory and his party ashore. as they were seen to land, the village sheik at once came down to them. "is there anything i can do for my lord?" he asked. "yes; i have come here to ascertain whether any of those, who were present at the attack upon the party who landed from the steamer over there, are still living here. there is no question of punishment. on the contrary, i have come here to obtain information as to some private matters, and anyone who can give me that information will be well rewarded." "there are but three men alive who were here at the time, my lord. there were more, but they fled when the boats with the white troops came up, from merawi. i believe they went to the dervish camp at metemmeh. "the three here are quiet and respectable men. they were asked many questions, and guided the white officers to the place where wad etman stood--it was there that those who landed from the steamer first rested--and to the place where the great house of suleiman wad gamr, emir of salamat, stood. "it was there that the much to be regretted attack on the white men was made. when the white army came up, six months afterwards, they blew up the house, and cut down all the palm trees in the village." "i was with the force that came up from merawi, last year. will you bring me the three men you speak of? i would question them, one by one. assure them that they need not be afraid of answering truthfully, even if they themselves were concerned in the attack upon the white officers, and the crew of the steamer, for no steps will be taken against them. it is eighteen years since then; and, no doubt, their houses were destroyed and their groves cut down, when the british column came here and found the place deserted. i am ready to reward them, if i obtain the information i require from them." the three men were presently brought to the spot where gregory had seated himself, in the shade of one of the huts. zaki stood beside him, and the four armed men took post, a short distance away. the first called up was a very old man. in reply to gregory's questions, he said: "i was already old when the steamboat ran ashore. i took no hand in the business; the white men had done me no harm, while the followers of the mahdi had killed many of my family and friends. i heard what was going to be done, and i stayed in my house. i call upon allah to witness that what i say is true!" "do you know if any remains of that expedition are still in existence?" "no, my lord. when the white troops came here, some months afterwards, i fled, as all here did; but i know that, before they destroyed wad gamr's house, they took away some boxes of papers that had been brought ashore from the ship, and were still in the house. i know of nothing else. the clothes of the men on board the steamboat were divided among those who took part in the attack, but there was little booty." gregory knew that, at wad gamr's house, but few signs of the tragedy had been found when general brackenbury's troops entered. bloodstained visiting cards of stewart's, a few scraps of paper, and a field glass had, alone, been discovered, besides the boxes of papers. the next man who came up said that he had been with the party who fell upon the engineers and crew of the boat, by the riverside. "i was ordered to kill them," he said. "had i not done so, i should have been killed, myself." "do you know whether any booty was hidden away, before the english came?" "no, my lord, there was no booty taken. no money was found on board the steamer. we stripped her of the brass work, and took the wood ashore, to burn. the sheik gave us a dollar and a half a man, for what we had done. there may have been some money found on the ship, but as his own men were on board first, and took all that they thought of value, i have naught to say about it." "and you never heard of anything being hidden, before the british troops arrived?" the arab shook his head. "no, my lord, but there may have been, though i never heard of it. i went and fought at kirkeban; and when we were beaten, i fled at once to berber, and remained there until the white troops had all gone down the country." "i may want to question you again tomorrow," gregory said. "here are two dollars. i shall give you as much more, if i want you again." the third man was then called up. he was evidently in fear. "do not be afraid to answer me truly," gregory said. "if you do so, no harm will come to you, whatever share you may have had in the affair. but if you answer falsely, and the truth is afterwards discovered, you will be punished. now, where were you when this business took place?" "we were all ordered, by wad gamr, to gather near his house; and, when the signal was given, we were to run in and kill the white men. we saw them go up to the house. they had been told to leave their arms behind them. one of the sheik's servants came out and waved his arms, and we ran in and killed them." "what happened then?" "we carried the bodies outside the house. then we took what money was found in their pockets, with watches and other things, in to the sheik; and he paid us a dollar and a half a head, and said that we could have their clothes. for my share, i had a jacket belonging to one of them. when i got it home, i found that there was a pocket inside, and in it was a book partly written on, and many other bits of paper." "and what became of that?" gregory asked, eagerly. "i threw it into a corner. it was of no use to me. but when the white troops came up in the boats, and beat us at kirkeban, i came straight home and, seeing the pocketbook, took it and hid it under a rock; for i thought that when the white troops got here, they would find it, and that they might then destroy the house, and cut down my trees. then i went away, and did not come back until they had all gone." "and where is the pocketbook, now?" "it may be under the rock where i hid it, my lord. i have never thought of it, since. it was rubbish." "can you take me to the place?" "i think so. it was not far from my house. i pushed it under the first great rock i came to, for i was in haste; and wanted to be away before the white soldiers, on camels, could get here." "did you hear of any other things being hidden?" "no. i think everything was given up. if this thing had been of value i should, perhaps, have told the sheik; but as it was only written papers, and of no use to anyone, i did not trouble to do so." "well, let us go at once," gregory said, rising to his feet. "although of no use to you, these papers may be of importance." followed by zaki and the four men, gregory went to the peasant's house, which stood a quarter of a mile away. "this is not the house i lived in, then," the man said. "the white troops destroyed every house in the village; but, when they had gone, i built another on the same spot." the hill rose steeply, behind it. the peasant went on, till he stopped at a large boulder. "this was the rock," he said, "where i thrust it under, as far as my arm would reach. i pushed it in on the upper side." the man lay down. "it was just about here," he said. "it is here, my lord. i can just feel it, but i cannot get it out. i pushed it in as far as the tips of my fingers could reach it." "well, go down and cut a couple of sticks, three or four feet long." in ten minutes, the man returned with them. "now take one of them and, when you feel the book, push the stick along its side, until it is well beyond it. then you ought to be able to scrape it out. if you cannot do so, we shall have to roll the stone over. it is a big rock, but with two or three poles, one ought to be able to turn it over." after several attempts, however, the man produced the packet. gregory opened it, with trembling hands. it contained, as the man had said, a large number of loose sheets, evidently torn from a pocketbook, and all covered with close writing. he opened the book that accompanied them. it was written in ink, and the first few words sufficed to tell him that his search was over. it began: "khartoum. thank god, after two years of suffering and misery, since the fatal day at el obeid, i am once again amongst friends. it is true that i am still in peril, for the position here is desperate. still, the army that is coming up to our help may be here in time; and even if they should not do so, this may be found when they come, and will be given to my dear wife at cairo, if she is still there. her name is mrs. hilliard, and her address will surely be known, at the bank." "these are the papers i was looking for," he said to zaki. "i will tell you about them, afterwards." he handed ten dollars to the native, thrust the packet into his breast pocket, and walked slowly down to the river. he had never entertained any hope of finding his father, but this evidence of his death gave him a shock. his mother was right, then. she had always insisted there was a possibility that he might have escaped the massacre at el obeid. he had done so. he had reached khartoum. he had started, full of hope of seeing his wife and child, but had been treacherously massacred, here. he would not, now, read this message from the grave. that must be reserved for some time when he was alone. he knew enough to be able to guess the details--they could not be otherwise than painful. he felt almost glad that his mother was not alive. to him, the loss was scarcely a real one. his father had left him, when an infant. although his mother had so often spoken of him, he had scarcely been a reality to gregory; for when he became old enough to comprehend the matter, it seemed to him certain that his father must have been killed. he could, then, hardly understand how his mother could cling to hope. his father had been more a real character to him, since he started from cairo, than ever before. he knew the desert, now, and its fierce inhabitants. he could picture the battle and since the fight at omdurman he had been able to see, before him, the wild rush on the egyptian square, the mad confusion, the charge of a handful of white officers, and the one white man going off, with the black battalion that held together. if, then, it was a shock to him to know how his father had died, how vastly greater would it have been, to his mother! she had pictured him as dying suddenly, fighting to the last, and scarce conscious of pain till he received a fatal wound. she had said, to gregory, that it was better to think of his father as having died thus, than lingering in hopeless slavery, like neufeld; but it would have been agony to her to know that he did suffer for two years, that he had then struggled on through all dangers to khartoum, and was on his way back, full of hope and love for her, when he was treacherously murdered. the village sheik met him, as he went down. "you have found nothing, my lord?" "nothing but a few old papers," he said. "you will report well of us, i hope, to the great english commander?" "i shall certainly tell him that you did all in your power to aid me." he walked down towards the river. one of the men, who had gone on while he had been speaking to the sheik, ran back to meet him. "there is a steamer coming up the river, my lord." "that is fortunate, indeed," gregory exclaimed. "i had intended to sleep here, tonight, and to bargain with the sheik for donkeys or camels to take us back. this will save two days." two or three native craft were fastened up to the shore, waiting for a breeze to set in, strong enough to take them up. gregory at once arranged, with one of them, to put his party on board the steamer, in their boat. in a quarter of an hour the gunboat approached, and they rowed out to meet her. as she came up, gregory stood up, and shouted to them to throw him a rope. this was done, and an officer came to the side. "i want a passage for myself and five men, to abu hamed. i am an officer on general hunter's staff." "with pleasure. "have you come down from the front?" he asked, as gregory stepped on board, with the five blacks. "yes." "then you can tell me about the great fight. we heard of it, at dongola, but beyond the fact that we had thrashed the khalifa, and taken omdurman, we received no particulars. "but before you begin, have a drink. "it is horribly annoying to me," he went on, as they sat down under the awning, and the steward brought tumblers, soda water, some whisky, and two lemons. gregory refused the whisky, but took a lemon with his cold water. "a horrible nuisance," the officer went on. "this is one of gordon's old steamers; she has broken down twice. still, i console myself by thinking that, even if i had been in time, very likely she would not have been taken up. "i hope, however, there will be work to do, yet. as you see, i have got three of these native craft in tow, and it is as much as i can do to get them up this cataract. "now, please tell me about the battle." gregory gave him an outline of the struggle, of the occupation of omdurman, and of what might be called the funeral service of gordon, at khartoum. it was dark before the story was finished. "by the way," the officer said, as they were about to sit down to dinner, "while we were on deck, i did not ask about your men. i must order food to be given them." "they have plenty," gregory said. "i brought enough for a week with me. i thought that i might be detained two or three days, here, and be obliged to make the journey by land to abu hamed." "i have not asked you what you were doing at this out of the way place, and how long you have been here." "i only landed this morning. i came down to search for some relics. my father was on board stewart's steamer, and as there would be nothing doing at omdurman, for a few days, i got leave to run down. i was fortunate in securing a boat at abu hamed, on my arrival there; and i have been equally so, now, in having been picked up by you; so that i shall not be away from omdurman more than seven days, if i have equal luck in getting a steamer at atbara. i do not think i shall be disappointed, for the white troops are coming down, and stores are going up for the egyptian brigade, so that i am certain not to be kept there many hours. the sirdar has gone up to fashoda, or i don't suppose i should have got leave." "yes. i heard at merawi, from the officer in command, that some foreign troops had arrived there. i suppose nothing more is known about it?" "no; no news will probably come down for another fortnight, perhaps longer than that." "who can they be?" "the general idea is that they are french. they can only be french, or a party from the congo states." "they had tremendous cheek, whoever they are," the officer said. "it is precious lucky, for them, that we have given the khalifa something else to think about, or you may be sure he would have wiped them out pretty quickly; unless they are a very strong force, which doesn't seem probable. i hear the sirdar has taken a regiment up with him." "yes, but i don't suppose any actual move will be made, at present." "no, i suppose it will be a diplomatic business. still, i should think they would have to go." "no one has any doubt about that, at omdurman," gregory said. "after all the expense and trouble we have had to retake the soudan, it is not likely that we should let anyone else plant themselves on the road to the great lakes. "when will you be at abu hamed, sir?" "we shall be there about five o'clock--at any rate, i think you may safely reckon on catching the morning train. it goes, i think, at eight." "i am sure to catch a train, soon, for orders have been sent down that railway materials shall be sent up, as quickly as possible; as it has been decided that the railway shall be carried on, at once, to khartoum. i expect that, as soon as the nile falls, they will make a temporary bridge across the atbara." it was six in the morning, when the steamer arrived at abu hamed. gregory at once landed, paid his four men, went up to the little station; and, an hour later, was on his way to atbara fort. he had but two hours to wait there, and reached omdurman at three o'clock, on the following afternoon. as he landed, he met an officer he knew. "is there any news?" he asked. "nothing but fashoda is talked about. it has been ascertained that the force there is undoubtedly french. the betting is about even as to whether france will back down, or not. they have made it difficult for themselves, by an outburst of enthusiasm at what they considered the defeat of england. well, of course, that does not go for much, except that it makes it harder for their government to give in." "and has any news been received of the whereabouts of the khalifa?" "no. broadwood, with two regiments of egyptian cavalry and the camel corps, started in pursuit of the khalifa and osman, an hour after it was found that they had got away. slatin pasha went with them. but as the horses had been at work all day, they had to stop at half past eight. they could not then get down to the water, and bivouacked where they had halted. at four in the morning they started again, and at half past eight found a spot where they could get down to the river; then they rode fifteen miles farther. "they were now thirty-five miles from omdurman. one of the gunboats had gone up with supplies, but owing to the nile having overflowed, could not get near enough to land them. next morning they got news that the khalifa was twenty-five miles ahead, and had just obtained fresh camels, so they were ordered to return to the town. they had picked up a good many of the fugitives, among them the khalifa's favourite wife; who, doubtless with other women, had slipped away at one of his halting places, feeling unable to bear the constant fatigues and hardships of the flight in the desert. "the cavalry have since been out again, but beyond the fact that the khalifa had been joined by many of the fugitives from the battle, and was making for kordofan, no certain news has been obtained. at present, nothing can be done in that direction. "that horse you bought is all right." "i really did not like taking him, for i already had one; and it looked almost like robbery, giving him two pounds for it, and the saddle." "others have done as well," the officer laughed. "one of the brigade staff bought a horse for a pound from burleigh, who had given forty for it at cairo. there was no help for it. they could not take horses down. besides, it is not their loss, after all. the newspapers can afford to pay for them. they must have been coining money, of late." "that reconciles me," gregory laughed. "i did not think of the correspondents' expenses being paid by the papers." "i don't know anything about their arrangements, but it stands to reason that it must be so, in a campaign like this. in an ordinary war, a man can calculate what his outlay might be; but on an expedition of this kind, no one could foretell what expenses he might have to incur. "besides, the sirdar has saved the newspapers an enormous expenditure. the correspondents have been rigidly kept down to messages of a few hundred words; whereas, if they had had their own way, they would have sent down columns. of course, the correspondents grumbled, but i have no doubt their employers were very well pleased, and the newspapers must have saved thousands of pounds, by this restriction." "you are back sooner than i expected," general hunter said, when gregory went in and reported his arrival. "it is scarce a week since you left." "just a week, sir. everything went smoothly, and i was but three or four hours at hebbeh." "and did you succeed in your search?" "yes, sir. i most fortunately found a man who had hidden a pocketbook he had taken from the body of one of the white men who were murdered there. there was nothing in it but old papers and, when brackenbury's expedition approached, he had hidden it away; and did not give it a thought, until i enquired if he knew of any papers, and other things, connected with those on board the steamer. he at once took me to the place where he had hidden it, under a great stone, and it turned out to be the notebook and journals of my father; who was, as i thought possible, the white man who had arrived at khartoum, a short time before the place was captured by the dervishes, and who had gone down in the steamer that carried colonel stewart." "well, hilliard," the general said, kindly, "even the certain knowledge of his death is better than the fear that he might be in slavery. you told me you had no remembrance of him?" "none, sir; but of course, my mother had talked of him so often, and had several photographs of him--the last taken at cairo, before he left--so that i almost seem to have known him. however, i do feel it as a relief to know that he is not, as i feared was remotely possible, a slave among the baggara. but i think it is hard that, after having gone through two years of trials and sufferings, he should have been murdered on his way home." "no doubt that is so. have you read your father's diary, yet?" "no, sir; i have not had the heart to do so, and shall put it off, until the shock that this has given me has passed away. i feel that a little hard work will be the best thing for me. is there any chance of it?" "you have just returned in time. i am going up the blue nile, tomorrow morning, to clear out the villages; which, no doubt, are all full of fugitives. i am glad that you have come back. i was speaking of you today to general rundle, who is in command. "one of the objects of the expedition is to prevent fadil from crossing the river. he was advancing from gedareh, at the head of ten thousand troops, to join the khalifa; and was but forty miles away, on the day after we took this place; but when he received the news of our victory, he fell back. if he can cross, he will bring a very formidable reinforcement to the khalifa. "we know that colonel parsons started from kassala, on the th, his object being to capture gedareh, during the absence of fadil. he is to cross the atbara at el fasher, and will then march up this bank of the river, till he is at the nearest point to gedareh. it is probable that he will not strike across before the th, or the th. his force is comparatively small, and we do not know how large a garrison fadil will have left there. "altogether, we are uneasy about the expedition. it is very desirable that parsons should know that fadil is retiring, and that, so far as we can learn from the natives, he has not yet crossed the blue nile. gedareh is said to be a strong place, and once there, parsons might hold it against fadil until we can send him reinforcements. "in order to convey this information to him, we require someone on whom we can absolutely rely. i said that, if you were here, i felt sure that you would volunteer for the service. of course it is, to a certain extent, a dangerous one; but i think that, speaking the language as you do, and as you have already been among the dervishes, you might, even if taken prisoner, make out a good story for yourself." "i would undertake the commission, with pleasure," gregory said. "i shall, of course, go in native dress." "i propose that we carry you a hundred miles up the river, with us, and there land you. from that point, it would not be more than sixty or seventy miles across the desert to the atbara, which you would strike forty or fifty miles above el fasher. of course you would be able to learn, there, whether parsons had crossed. if he had, you would ride up the bank till you overtake him. if he had not, you would probably meet him at mugatta. he must cross below that, as it is there he leaves the river." "that seems simple enough, sir. my story would be that i was one of the dervishes, who had escaped from the battle here; and had stopped at a village, thinking that i was safe from pursuit, until your boats came along; and that i then crossed the desert to go to gedareh, where i thought i should be safe. that would surely carry me through. i shall want two fast camels--one for myself, and one for my boy." "these we can get for you, from abdul azil, the abadah sheik. of course, you will put on dervish robes and badges?" "yes, sir." "i will go across and tell general rundle, and obtain written instructions for you to carry despatches to parsons. i will give them to you when you go up on the boat, in the morning. i will see at once about the camels, and ask the intelligence people to get you two of the dervish suits. you will also want rifles." "thank you, sir! i have a couple of remingtons, and plenty of ammunition for them. i have two spears, also, which i picked up when we came in here." "we are off again, zaki," he said, when he returned to his hut; where the black was engaged in sweeping up the dust, and arranging everything as usual. "yes, master." zaki suspended his work. "when do we go?" "tomorrow morning." "do we take everything with us?" "no. i start in uniform. we shall both want dervish dresses, but you need not trouble about them--they will be got for us." "then we are going among the dervishes, again?" "well, i hope we are not; but we may meet some of them. we are going with the expedition up the blue nile, and will then land and strike across the desert, to the atbara. that is enough for you to know, at present. we shall take our guns and spears with us." zaki had no curiosity. if his master was going, it was of course all right--his confidence in him was absolute. in about an hour, a native from the intelligence department brought down two dervish dresses, complete. they had still three hours before mess, and gregory sat down on his bed, and opened his father's pocketbook, which he had had no opportunity to do, since it came into his possession. chapter : a fugitive. "i do not suppose," the diary began, "that what i write here will ever be read. it seems to me that the chances are immeasurably against it. still, there is a possibility that it may fall into the hands of some of my countrymen when, as will surely be the case, the mahdi's rebellion is crushed and order restored; and i intend, so long as i live, to jot down from time to time what happens to me, in order that the only person living interested in me, my wife, may possibly, someday, get to know what my fate has been. therefore, should this scrap of paper, and other scraps that may follow it, be ever handed to one of my countrymen, i pray him to send it to mrs. hilliard, care of the manager of the bank at cairo. "it may be that this, the first time i write, may be the last; and i therefore, before all things, wish to send her my heart's love, to tell her that my last thoughts and my prayers will be for her, and that i leave it entirely to her whether to return to england, in accordance with the instructions i left her before leaving, or to remain in cairo. "it is now five days since the battle. it cannot be called a battle. it was not fighting; it was a massacre. the men, after three days' incessant fighting, were exhausted and worn out, half mad with thirst, half mutinous at being brought into the desert, as they said, to die. thus, when the dervishes rushed down in a mass, the defence was feeble. almost before we knew what had happened, the enemy had burst in on one side of the square. then all was wild confusion--camels and dervishes, flying egyptians, screaming camp followers, were all mixed in confusion. "the other sides of the square were also attacked. some of our men were firing at those in their front, others turning round and shooting into the crowded mass in the square. i was with a black regiment, on the side opposite to where they burst in. the white officer who had been in command had fallen ill, and had been sent back, a few days after we left khartoum; and as i had been, for weeks before that, aiding him to the best of my powers, and there were no other officers to spare, hicks asked me to take his place. as i had done everything i could for the poor fellows' comfort, on the march; they had come to like me, and to obey my orders as promptly as those of their former commander. "as long as the other two sides of the square stood firm, i did so; but they soon gave way. i saw hicks, with his staff, charge into the midst of the dervishes, and then lost sight of them. seeing that all was lost, i called to my men to keep together, to march off in regular order, and repel all assaults, as this was the only hope there was of getting free. "they obeyed my orders splendidly. two or three times the dervishes charged upon them, but the blacks were as steady as rocks, and their volleys were so fatal that the enemy finally left us alone, preferring to aid in the slaughter of the panic-stricken egyptians, and to share the spoil. "we made for the wells. each man drank his fill. those who had water bottles filled them. we then marched on towards el obeid, but before nightfall the dervish horse had closed up round us. at daylight their infantry had also arrived, and fighting began. "all day we held our position, killing great numbers, but losing many men ourselves. by night, our water was exhausted. then the soldiers offered to attack the enemy, but they were twenty to one against us, and i said to them, 'no, fight one day longer, if we can hold on. the dervishes may retire, or they may offer us terms.' "so we stood. by the next evening, we had lost half our number. after they had drawn off, one of the dervish emirs came in with a white flag, and offered life to all who would surrender, and would wear the badge of the mahdi, and be his soldiers. i replied that an answer should be given in the morning. when he had left, i gathered the men together. "'you have fought nobly,' i said, 'but you have scarce a round of ammunition left. if we fight again tomorrow, we shall all be slaughtered. i thank you, in the name of the khedive, for all that you have done; but i do not urge you to reject the terms offered. your deaths would not benefit the khedive. as far as i am concerned, you are free to accept the terms offered.' "they talked for some time together, and then the three native officers who were still alive came forward. "'bimbashi,' they said, 'what will be done about you? we are mahometans and their countrymen, but you are a white man and a christian. you would not fight for the mahdi?' "'no,' i said, 'i would not fight for him, nor would i gain my life, at the price of being his slave. i wish you to settle the matter, without any reference to me. i will take my chance. i may not be here, in the morning. one man might escape, where many could not. all i ask is that i may not be watched. if in the morning i am not here, you can all say that i disappeared, and you do not know how. i do not, myself, know what i am going to do yet.' "they went away, and in a quarter of an hour returned, and said that the men would surrender. if they had water and ammunition, they would go on fighting till the end; but as they had neither, they would surrender. "i felt that this was best. the soudanese love battle, and would as readily fight on one side as on the other. they have done their duty well to the khedive, and will doubtless fight as bravely for the mahdi. "the men lay in a square, as they had fought, with sentries placed to warn them, should the dervishes make a night attack. british troops would have been well-nigh maddened with thirst, after being twenty-four hours without water, and fighting all day in the blazing sun, but they felt it little. they were thirsty, but in their desert marches they are accustomed to thirst, and to hold on for a long time without water. "i was better off, for i had drunk sparingly, the day before, from my water bottle; and had still a draught left in it. i waited until i thought that the men were all asleep; then i stripped, and stained myself from head to foot. i had carried stain with me, in case i might have to go out as a native, to obtain information. in my valise i had a native dress, and a native cloth, in which i could have passed as a peasant, but not as one of the baggara. however, i put it on, passed through the sleeping men, and went up to a sentry. "'you know me,' i said. 'i am your bimbashi. i am going to try and get through their lines; but if it is known how i have escaped, i shall be pursued and slain. will you swear to me that, if you are questioned, you will say you know nothing of my flight?' "'i swear by the beard of the prophet,' the man said. 'may allah protect you, my lord!' "then i went on. the night was fairly dark and, as the dervishes were nearly half a mile away, i had no fear of being seen by them. there were many of their dead scattered about, seventy or eighty yards from our square. i had, all along, felt convinced that it would be impossible to pass through their lines; therefore i went to a spot where i had noticed that a number had fallen, close together, and went about examining them carefully. it would not have done to have chosen the dress of an emir, as his body might have been examined, but the ordinary dead would pass unnoticed. "i first exchanged the robe for one marked with the mahdi's patches. it was already smeared with blood. i then carried the body of the man whose robe i had taken off, for some distance. i laid him down on his face, thinking that the absence of the patches would not be seen. then i crawled some thirty or forty yards nearer to the dervishes, so that it would seem that i had strength to get that far, before dying. then i lay down, partly on my side, so that the patches would show, but with my face downwards on my arm. "i had, before dyeing my skin, cut my hair close to my head, on which i placed the dervish's turban. the only property that i brought out with me was a revolver, and this pocketbook. both of these i buried in the sand; the pocketbook a short distance away, the pistol lightly covered, and within reach of my hand, so that i could grasp it and sell my life dearly, if discovered. "soon after daylight i heard the triumphant yells of the dervishes, and knew that my men had surrendered. then there was a rush of horse and foot, and much shouting and talking. i lifted my head slightly, and looked across. not a dervish was to be seen in front of me. "i felt that i had better move, so, taking up my pistol and hiding it, i crawled on my hands and knees to the spot where i had hidden this book; and then got up on to my feet, and staggered across the plain, as if sorely wounded, and scarcely able to drag my feet along. as i had hoped, no one seemed to notice me, and i saw three or four other figures, also making their way painfully towards where the dervishes had encamped. "here were a few camels, standing untended. everyone had joined in the rush for booty--a rush to be met with bitter disappointment, for, with the exception of the arms of the fallen, and what few valuables they might have about their person, there was nothing to be gained. i diverged from the line i had been following, kept on until there was a dip in the ground, that would hide me from the sight of those behind; then i started to run, and at last threw myself down in the scrub, four or five miles away from the point from which i had started. "i was perfectly safe, for the present. the dervishes were not likely to search over miles of the desert, dotted as it was with thick bushes. the question was as to the future. my position was almost as bad as could be. i was without food or water, and there were hundreds of miles of desert between me and khartoum. at every water hole i should, almost certainly, find parties of dervishes. "from time to time i lifted my head, and saw several large parties of the enemy, moving in the distance. they were evidently bound on a journey, and were not thinking of looking for me. i chewed the sour leaves of the camel bush; and this, to some extent, alleviated my thirst. "i determined at last that i would, in the first place, march to the wells towards which we had been pressing, when the dervishes came up to us. they were nearly three miles south of the spot where the square had stood. no doubt, dervishes would be there; but, if discovered by them, it was better to die so than of thirst. "half an hour before the sun sank, i started. no horsemen were in sight, and if any were to come along, i could see them long before they could notice me. knowing the general direction, i was fortunate enough to get sight of the palm grove which surrounded the wells, before darkness set in. "it lay about two miles away, and there were certainly moving objects round it. i lay down until twilight had passed, and then went forward. when within two or three hundred yards of the grove, i lay down again, and waited. that the dervishes would all go to sleep, however long i might wait, was too much to hope for. they would be sure to sit and talk, far into the night, of the events of the last three or four days. "shielding myself as well as i could, by the bushes, i crawled up until i was in the midst of some camels, which were browsing. here i stood up, and then walked boldly into the grove. as i had expected, two or three score of dervishes were sitting in groups, talking gravely. they had destroyed the turks (as they always called the egyptians, and their infidel white leaders), but had suffered heavily themselves. the three hundred soudanese who had surrendered, and who had taken service with the mahdi, were but poor compensation for the losses they had suffered. "'a year ago,' one old sheik said, 'i was the father of eight brave sons. now they have all gone before me. four of them fell in the assaults at el obeid, two at baria, and the last two have now been killed. i shall meet them all again, in the abode of the blessed; and the sooner the better, for i have no one left to care for.' "others had tales of the loss of relations and friends, but i did not wait to listen further. taking up a large water gourd, that stood empty at the foot of one of the trees, i boldly walked to the well, descended the rough steps at the water's edge, and drank till i could drink no longer; and then, filling the gourd, went up again. "no one noticed me. had they looked at me they would have seen, even in the darkness, the great patches down the front of the robe; but i don't think anyone did notice me. other figures were moving about, from group to group, and i kept on through the grove, until beyond the trees. i came out on the side opposite to that which i had entered, and, as i expected, found some of the dervish horses grazing among the bushes. "no guard was placed over them, as they were too well trained to wander far. i went out to them and chose the poorest, which happened to be farther among the bushes than the others. i had thought the matter well over. if a good horse were taken, there would be furious pursuit, as soon as it was missed; and this might be soon, for the arabs are passionately fond of their favourite horses--more so than they are of their families. while i had been waiting at the edge of the wood, more than one had come out to pat and fondle his horse, and give it a handful of dates. but a poor animal would meet with no such attention, and the fact that he was missing was not likely to be discovered till daylight. probably, no great search would be made for it. the others would ride on, and its owner might spend some hours in looking about, thinking it had strayed away, and was lying somewhere among the bushes. "i had no thought of trying to return to khartoum. the wells were far apart, and dervish bands were certain to be moving along the line. it seemed to me that el obeid was the safest place to go to. true, it was in the hands of the mahdists, but doubtless many wounded would be making their way there. some, doubtless, would have wives and children. others might have come from distant villages, but these would all make for the town, as the only place where they could find food, water, and shelter. "riding till morning, i let the horse graze, and threw myself down among the bushes, intending to remain there until nightfall. in the afternoon, on waking from a long sleep, i sat up and saw, a quarter of a mile away, a dervish making his way along on foot, slowly and painfully. this was the very chance i had hoped might occur. i got up at once, and walked towards him. "'my friend is sorely wounded,' i said. "'my journey is well-nigh ended,' he said. 'i had hoped to reach el obeid, but i know that i shall not arrive at the well, which lies three miles away. i have already fallen three times. the next will be the last. would that the bullet of the infidel had slain me, on the spot!' "the poor fellow spoke with difficulty, so parched were his lips and swollen his tongue. i went to the bush, where i had left the gourd, half full of water. the man was still standing where i had left him, but when he saw the gourd in my hand he gave a little cry, and tottered feebly towards me. "'let my friend drink,' i said. i held the gourd to his lips. 'sip a little, first,' i said. 'you can drink your fill, afterwards.' "'allah has sent you to save me,' he said; and after two or three gulps of water, he drew back his head. 'now i can rest till the sun has set, and then go forward as far as the well, and die there.' "'let me see your wound,' i said. 'it may be that i can relieve the pain, a little.' "he had been shot through the body, and it was a marvel to me how he could have walked so far; but the arabs, like other wild creatures, have a wonderful tenacity of life. i aided him to the shelter of the thick bush, then i let him have another and longer drink, and bathed his wound with water. tearing off a strip from the bottom of his robe, i bound it round him, soaking it with water over the wound. he had been suffering more from thirst than from pain, and he seemed stronger, already. "'now,' i said, 'you had better sleep.' "'i have not slept since the last battle,' he said. 'i started as soon as it was dark enough for me to get up, without being seen by the turks. i have been walking ever since, and dared not lie down. at first, i hoped that i might get to the town where my wife lived, and die in my own house. but that hope left me, as i grew weaker and weaker, and i have only prayed for strength enough to reach the well, to drink, and to die there.' "'sleep now,' i said. 'be sure that i will not leave you. is it not our duty to help one another? when the heat is over, we may go on. i have a horse, here, which you shall ride. how far is it from the well to el obeid?' "'it is four hours' journey, on foot.' "'good! then you shall see your wife before morning. we will stop at the well to give my horse a good drink; and then, if you feel well enough to go on, we will not wait above an hour.' "'may allah bless you!' the man said, and he then closed his eyes, and at once went to sleep. "i lay down beside him, but not to sleep. i was overjoyed with my good fortune. now i could enter el obeid boldly and, the wounded man being a native there, no questions would be asked me. i had a house to go to, and shelter, for the present. "as to what might happen afterwards, i did not care to think. some way of escape would surely occur, in time. once my position as a mahdist was fully established, i should be able to join any party going towards khartoum, and should avoid all questioning; whereas, if i were to journey alone, i should be asked by every band i met where i came from; and might, at any moment, be detected, if there happened to be any from the village i should name as my abode. it was all important that this poor fellow should live; until, at least, i had been with him two days, in the town. "from time to time, i dipped a piece of rag in the gourd, squeezed a few drops of water between his lips, and then laid it on his forehead. when the sun began to get low, i went out and caught the horse. as i came up, the dervish opened his eyes. "'i am better,' he said. 'you have restored me to life. my head is cool, and my lips no longer parched.' "'now,' i said, 'i will lift you into the saddle. you had better ride with both legs on the same side. it will be better for your wound. there is a mound of earth, a few yards away. if you will stand up on that, i can lift you into the saddle, easily. now put your arms round my neck, and i will lift you in the standing position. if you try to get up, yourself, your wound might easily break out again.' "i managed better than i had expected and, taking the bridle, led the horse towards the well. "'you must tell me the way,' i said, 'for i am a stranger in this part, having come from the blue nile.' "'i know it perfectly,' he said, 'having been born in el obeid. i fought against the mahdists, till we were starved out; and then, as we all saw that the power of the mahdi was great, and that allah was with him, we did not hesitate to accept his terms, and to put on his badges.' "in less than an hour, we saw the trees that marked the position of the well; and, in another half hour, reached it. at least a score of wounded men were there, many of them so sorely hurt that they would get no farther. they paid little attention to us. one of them was known to saleh--for the wounded man told me that that was his name--he also was from el obeid. he was suffering from a terrible cut in the shoulder, which had almost severed the arm. he told my man that it was given by one of the infidel officers, before he fell. "i thought it was as well to have two friends, instead of one; and did what i could to bind his wound up, and fasten his arm firmly to his side. then i said to him: "'my horse, after three hours' rest, will be able to carry you both. you can sit behind saleh, and hold him on with your unwounded arm.' "'truly, stranger, you are a merciful man, and a good one. wonderful is it that you should give up your horse, to men who are strangers to you; and walk on foot, yourself.' "'allah commands us to be compassionate to each other. what is a walk of a few miles? it is nothing, it is not worth speaking of. say no more about it, i beseech you. i am a stranger in el obeid, and you may be able to befriend me, there.' "three hours later abdullah, which was the name of the second man, mounted, and assisted me to lift saleh in front of him, and we set out for el obeid. we got into the town at daybreak. there were few people about, and these paid no attention to us. wounded men had been coming in, in hundreds. turning into the street where both the men lived, we went first to the house of saleh, which was at the farther end, and was, indeed, quite in the outskirts of the place. it stood in a walled enclosure, and was of better appearance than i had expected. "i went to the door, and struck my hand against it. a voice within asked what was wanted, and i said, 'i bring home the master of the house. he is sorely wounded.' "there was a loud cry, and the door opened and a woman ran out. "'do not touch him,' abdullah exclaimed. 'we will get him down from the horse, but first bring out an angareb. we will lower him down onto that.' "the woman went in, and returned with an angareb. it was the usual soudan bed, of wooden framework, with a hide lashed across it. i directed them how to lift one end against the horse, so that saleh could slide down onto it. "'wife,' the arab said, when this was done, 'by the will of allah, who sent this stranger to my aid, i have returned alive. his name is mudil. i cannot tell you, now, what he has done for me. this house is his. he is more than guest, he is master. he has promised to remain with me, till i die, or am given back to life again. do as he bids you, in all things.' "abdullah would have assisted to carry the bed in, but i told him that it might hurt his arm, and i and the woman could do it. "'you had better go off, at once, to your own people, abdullah. there must be many here who understand the treatment of wounds. you had better get one, at once, to attend to your arm." "'i will come again, this evening,' the man replied. 'i consider that i also owe my life to you; and when you have stayed a while here, you must come to me. my wives and children will desire to thank you, when i tell them how you brought me in here.' "'is there any place where i can put my horse?' i asked. "'yes,' the woman replied; 'take it to that door in the wall. i will go and unfasten it.' "there was a shed in the garden. into this i put my horse, and then entered the house. "most of the arab women know something of the dressing of wounds. saleh's wife sent out the slave, to buy various drugs. then she got a melon from the garden, cut off the rind, and, mincing the fruit in small pieces, squeezed out the juice and gave it to her husband to drink. when she had done this, she set before me a plate of pounded maize, which was boiling over a little fire of sticks, when we went in. "'it is your breakfast,' i said. "she waved her hand. "'i can cook more,' she said. 'it matters not if we do not eat till sunset.' "i sat down at once, for indeed, i was famishing. the food had all been exhausted, at the end of the first day's fighting. i had been more than two days without eating a morsel. i have no doubt i ate ravenously, for the woman, without a word, emptied the contents of the pot into my bowl, and then went out and cut another melon for me. "when the slave woman returned, she boiled some of the herbs, made a sort of poultice of them, and placed it on the wound. saleh had fallen asleep, the moment he had drunk the melon juice, and did not move while the poultice was being applied. "the house contained three rooms--the one which served as kitchen and living room; one leading from it on the right, with the curtains hanging before the door (this was saleh's room); and on the opposite side, the guest chamber. i have not mentioned that there were four or five children, all of whom had been turned out, as soon as we entered; and threatened with terrible punishments, by their mother, if they made any noise. "when i finished my meal i went into the guest chamber, threw myself down on the angareb there, and slept till sunset. when i awoke, i found that a native doctor had come, and examined saleh. he had approved of what the woman had done, told told her to continue to poultice the wound, and had given her a small phial, from which she was to pour two drops into the wound, morning and evening. he said, what i could have told her, that her husband was in the hands of allah, if he willed it, her husband would live. "of course, i had seen something of wounds, for in the old times--it seems a lifetime back--when i was, for two years, searching tombs and monuments with the professor, there had been frays between our workmen and bands of robbers; and there were also many cases of injuries, incurred in the work of moving heavy fragments of masonry. moreover, although i had no actual practice, i had seen a good deal of surgical work; for, when i was at the university, i had some idea of becoming a surgeon, and attended the courses there, and saw a good many operations. i had therefore, of course, a general knowledge of the structure of the human frame, and the position of the arteries. "so far the wound, which i examined when the woman poured in what i suppose was a styptic, looked healthy and but little inflamed. of course, a skilled surgeon would have probed it and endeavoured to extract the ball, which had not gone through. the soudanese were armed only with old muskets, and it was possible that the ball had not penetrated far; for if, as he had told me, he was some distance from the square when he was hit, the bullet was probably spent. "i told the woman so, and asked her if she had any objection to my endeavouring to find it. she looked surprised. "'are you, then, a hakim?' "'no, but i have been at khartoum, and have seen how the white hakims find which way a bullet has gone. they are sometimes able to get it out. at any rate, i should not hurt him; and if, as is likely, the ball has not gone in very far--for had it done so, he would probably have died before he got home--i might draw it out.' "'you can try,' she said. 'you have saved his life, and it is yours.' "'bring me the pistol that your husband had, in his belt.' "she brought it to me. i took out the ramrod. "'now,' i said, 'it is most important that this should be clean; therefore, heat it in the fire so that it is red hot, and then drop it into cold water.' "when this had been done, i took a handful of sand, and polished the rod till it shone, and afterwards wiped it carefully with a cloth. then i inserted it in the wound, very gently. it had entered but an inch and a half when it struck something hard, which could only be the bullet. it was as i had hoped, the ball had been almost spent, when it struck him. "saleh was awake now, and had at once consented to my suggestion, having come to have implicit faith in me. "'it is, you see, saleh, just as i had hoped. i felt sure that it could not have gone in far; as, in that case, you could never have walked twenty miles, from the battlefield, to the point where you met me. now, if i had a proper instrument, i might be able to extract the bullet. i might hurt you in doing so, but if i could get it out, you would recover speedily; while if it remains where it is, the wound may inflame, and you will die.' "'i am not afraid of pain, mudil.' "i could touch the ball with my finger, but beyond feeling that the flesh in which it was embedded was not solid to the touch, i could do nothing towards getting the ball out. i dared not try to enlarge the wound, so as to get two fingers in. after thinking the matter over in every way, i decided that the only chance was to make a tool from the ramrod. i heated this again and again, flattening it with the pistol barrel, till it was not more than a tenth of an inch thick; then i cut, from the centre, a strip about a quarter of an inch wide. i then rubbed down the edges of the strip on a stone, till they were perfectly smooth, and bent the end into a curve. i again heated it to a dull red, and plunged it into water to harden it, and finally rubbed it with a little oil. it was late in the evening before i was satisfied with my work. "'now, saleh,' i said, 'i am going to try if this will do. if i had one of the tools i have seen the white hakims use, i am sure i could get the ball out easily enough; but i think i can succeed with this. if i cannot, i must make another like it, so as to put one down each side of the bullet. you see, this curve makes a sort of hook. the difficulty is to get it under the bullet.' "'i understand,' he said. 'do not mind hurting me. i have seen men die of bullets, even after the wound seemed to heal. i know it is better to try and get it out.' "it was a difficult job. pressing back the flesh with my finger, i succeeded, at last, in getting the hook under the bullet. this i held firmly against it, and to my delight felt, as i raised finger and hook together, that the bullet was coming. a few seconds later, i held it triumphantly between my fingers. "'there, saleh, there is your enemy. i think, now, that if there is no inflammation, it will not be long before you are well and strong again.' "'truly, it is wonderful!' the man said, gratefully. 'i have heard of hakims who are able to draw bullets from wounds, but i have never seen it done before.' "if saleh had been a white man, i should still have felt doubtful as to his recovery; but i was perfectly confident that a wound of that sort would heal well, in an arab, especially as it would be kept cool and clean. hard exercise, life in the open air, entire absence of stimulating liquors, and only very occasionally, if ever, meat diet, render them almost insensible to wounds that would paralyse a white. our surgeons had been astonished at the rapidity with which the wounded prisoners recovered. "saleh's wife had stood by, as if carved in stone, while i performed the operation; but when i produced the bullet, she burst into tears, and poured blessings on my head. "i am writing this on the following morning. saleh has slept quietly all night. his hand is cool this morning, and i think i may fairly say that he is convalescent. abdullah's wife came in yesterday evening, and told the women here that her husband was asleep, but that he would come round in the morning. i warned her not to let him stir out of doors, and said i would come and see him. "it has taken me five hours to write this, which seems a very long time to spend on details of things not worth recording; but the act of writing has taken my thoughts off myself, and i intend always to note down anything special. it will be interesting to me to read it, if i ever get away; should i be unable to escape, i shall charge saleh to carry it to khartoum, if he ever has the chance, and hand it over to the governor there, to send down to cairo. "a week later. i am already losing count of days, but days matter nothing. i have been busy, so busy that i have not even had time to write. after i had finished my story so far, saleh's slave woman took me to abdullah's house. i found that he was in a state of high fever, but all i could do was to recommend that a wet rag should be applied, and freshly wetted every quarter of an hour; that his head should be kept similarly enveloped, in wet bandages; and that his hands should be dipped in water very frequently. "when i got back, i found several women waiting outside saleh's house. his wife had gossiped with a neighbour, and told them that i had got the bullet out of his wound. the news spread rapidly, and these women were all there to beg that i would see their husbands. "this was awkward. i certainly could not calculate upon being successful, in cases where a bullet had penetrated more deeply; and even if i could do so, i should at once excite the hostility of the native hakims, and draw very much more attention upon myself than i desired. in vain i protested that i was not a hakim, and had done only what i had seen a white hakim do. finding that this did not avail, i said that i would not go to see any man, except with one of the native doctors. "'there are two here,' one of the women said. 'i will go and fetch them.' "'no,' i said; 'who am i, that they should come to me? i will go and see them, if you will show me where they live.' "'ah, here they come!' she said, as two dervishes approached. "i went up to them, and they said: 'we hear that you are a hakim, who has done great things.' "'i am no hakim,' i said. 'i was just coming to you, to tell you so. the man i aided was a friend, and was not deeply wounded. having seen a white hakim take bullets from wounded men, i tried my best; and as the bullet was but a short way in, i succeeded. if i had had the instruments i saw the infidel use, it would have been easy; but i had to make an instrument, which sufficed for the purpose, although it would have been of no use, had the bullet gone in deeper.' "they came in and examined saleh's wound, the bullet, and the tool i had made. "'it is well,' they said. 'you have profited by what you saw. whence do you come?' "i told the same story that i had told saleh. "'you have been some time at khartoum?' "'not very long,' i said; 'but i went down once to cairo, and was there some years. it was there i came to know something of the ways of the infidels. i am a poor man, and very ignorant; but if you will allow me i will act as your assistant, as i know that there are many wounded here. if you will tell me what to do, i will follow your instructions carefully.' "the two hakims looked more satisfied, at finding that i was not a dangerous rival. one said: "'among the things that have been brought in here is a box. those who brought it did not know what it contained, and it was too strong for them to open, though of course they were able to hammer it, and break it open. it contained nothing but many shining instruments, but the only one that we knew the purport of was a saw. there were two boxes of the same shape, and the other contained a number of little bottles of drugs; and we thought that maybe, as the boxes were alike, these shining instruments were used by the white hakim.' "'i can tell you that, if i see them,' i said, and went with them. "in a house where booty of all sorts was stored, i saw the chests which i knew were those carried by hicks's medical officer. the one contained drugs, the other a variety of surgical instruments--probes, forceps, amputating knives, and many other instruments of whose use i was ignorant. i picked out three or four probes, and forceps of different shapes. "'these are the instruments,' i said, 'with which they take out bullets. with one of these thin instruments, they search the wound until they find the ball. sometimes they cannot find it, and even when they have found it, they sometimes cannot get hold of it with any of these tools, which, as you see, open and shut.' "'what are the knives for?' "'they use the knives for cutting off limbs. twice have i seen this done, for i was travelling with a learned hakim, who was searching the tombs for relics. in one case a great stone fell on a man's foot, and smashed it, and the hakim took it off at the ankle. in another case a man had been badly wounded, by a bullet in the arm. he was not one of our party but, hearing of the hakim's skill, he had made a journey of three days to him. the wound was very bad, and they said it was too late to save the arm, so they cut it off above the elbow.' "'and they lived?' "'yes, they both lived.' "'could you do that?' "i shook my head. 'it requires much skill,' i said. 'i saw how it was done, but to do it one's self is very different. if there was a man who must die, if an arm or a leg were not taken off, i would try to save his life; but i would not try, unless it was clear that the man must die if it were not done. "but you are learned men, hakims, and if you will take me as your assistant, i will show you how the white doctors take out balls, and, if there is no other way, cut off limbs; and when i have once shown you, you will do it far better than i.' "the two men seemed much pleased. it was evident to them that, if they could do these things, it would widely add to their reputation. "'it is good,' they said. 'you shall go round with us, and see the wounded, and we will see for ourselves what you can do. will you want this chest carried?' "'no,' i said. 'i will take these instruments with me. should it be necessary to cut off a limb, to try and save life, i shall need the knives, the saw, and this instrument, which i heard the white hakim call a tourniquet, and which they use for stopping the flow of blood, while they are cutting. there are other instruments, too, that will be required.'" chapter : a hakim. "i succeeded in getting out two more bullets, and then handed the instruments to the hakims, saying that i had shown them all i knew, and would now leave the matter in their hands altogether; or would act as their assistant, if they wished it. i had no fear that harm would come of it; for, being so frequently engaged in war, i knew that they had, in a rough way, considerable skill in the treatment of wounds. i had impressed upon them, while probing the wounds, that no force must be used, and that the sole object was to find the exact course the ball had taken. "as to the amputations, they would probably not be attempted. a fighting dervish would rather die than lose a limb; and, were he to die under an operation, his relatives would accuse the operator of having killed him. "i remained at work with them, for two or three days. in nearly half the cases, they failed to find the course of the ball; but when they did so, and the wound was not too deep, they generally succeeded in extracting it. they were highly pleased, and i took great pains to remain well in the background. "they were very friendly with me. their fees were mostly horses, or carpets, or other articles, in accordance with the means of the patients; and of these they gave me a portion, together with some money, which had been looted from the chests carrying silver, for the purchase of provisions and the payment of troops. although they made a pretence of begging me to remain always with them, i refused, saying that i saw i could no longer be of assistance to them. i could see they were inwardly pleased. they gave me some more money, and i left them, saying that i did not, for a moment, suppose that i could tell them anything further; but that if, at any time, they should send for me, i would try and recall what i had seen the white hakims do, in such a case as they were dealing with. "in the meantime, saleh was progressing very favourably; and, indeed, would have been up and about, had i not peremptorily ordered him to remain quiet. "'you are doing well,' i said. 'why should you risk bringing on inflammation, merely for the sake of getting about a few days earlier?' "abdullah was also better, but still extremely weak, and i had to order that meat should be boiled for some hours, and that he should drink small quantities of the broth, three or four times a day. many times a day women came to me, to ask me to see to their husbands' wounds; and sometimes the wounded men came to me, themselves. all the serious cases i referred to the hakims, and confined myself simply to dressing and bandaging wounds, which had grown angry for want of attention. i always refused to accept fees, insisting that i was not a hakim, and simply afforded my help as a friend. "i had the satisfaction, however, of doing a great deal of good, for in the medicine chest i found a large supply of plaster and bandages. frequently mothers brought children to me. these i could have treated with some of the simple drugs in the chest, but i refused to do so; for i could not have explained, in any satisfactory way, how i knew one drug from another, or was acquainted with their qualities. still, although i refused fees, i had many little presents of fowls, fruit, pumpkins, and other things. these prevented my feeling that i was a burden upon saleh, for of course i put them into the general stock. "so far, i cannot but look back with deep gratitude for the strange manner in which i have been enabled to avert all suspicion, and even to make myself quite a popular character among the people of el obeid. "one bottle i found in the medicine chest was a great prize to me. it contained iodine and, with a weak solution of this, i was able to maintain my colour. i did not care so much for my face and hands, for i was so darkened by the sun that my complexion was little fairer than that of many of the arabs. but i feared that an accidental display, of a portion of my body usually covered by my garments, would at once prove that i was a white man. i had used up the stuff that i had brought with me, when i escaped from the square; and having no means of procuring fresh stain, was getting uneasy; but this discovery of the iodine put it within my power to renew my colouring, whenever it was necessary. "about a month later. i have been living here quietly, since i last wrote in this journal. the day after i had done so, the emir sent for me, and said he had heard that i had taken bullets out of wounds, and had shown the two doctors of the town how to do so, by means of instruments found in a chest that was among the loot brought in from the battlefield. i repeated my story to him, as to how i had acquired the knowledge from being in the service of a white hakim, from cairo, who was travelling in the desert; and that i had no other medical knowledge, except that i had seen, in the chest, a bottle which contained stuff like that the white doctors used in order to put a patient to sleep, so that they could take off a limb without his feeling pain. "'i have heard of such things being done by the turkish hakims at khartoum, but i did not believe them. it is against all reason.' "'i have seen it done, my lord,' i said. 'i do not say that i could take off a limb, as they did, but i am sure that the stuff would put anyone to sleep.' "'i wish you to put it to the trial,' the emir said. 'one of my sons came back, from the battle, with a bullet hole through his hand. the hakim said that two of the bones were broken. he put bandages round, and my son said no more about it. he is a man who does not complain of slight troubles, but yesterday evening the pain became so great that he was forced to mention it; and when i examined his arm, i found that it was greatly swelled. slaves have been bathing it with cold water, ever since, but the pain has increased rather than diminished.' "'i will look at it, my lord, but i greatly fear that it is beyond my poor skill to deal with it.' "the young man was brought in and, on removing the bandage, i saw that the wound was in a terrible state, and the arm greatly inflamed, some distance up the wrist. it was a bad case, and it seemed to me that, unless something was done, mortification would speedily set in. "'the two doctors saw it an hour ago,' the emir went on, 'and they greatly fear for his life. they told me that they could do nothing, but that, as you had seen the white hakim do wonderful things, you might be able to do something.' "'my lord,' i said, 'it is one thing to watch an operation, but quite another to perform it yourself. i think, as the doctors have told you, your son's life is in great danger; and i do believe that, if there were white doctors here to take off his arm, he might be saved. but i could not undertake it. the skill to do so is only acquired by long years of study. how can i, a poor man, know how to do such things? were i to attempt and fail, what would you say?--that i had killed your son; and that, but for me, he might have recovered.' "'he will not recover,' the emir said, moodily. "'what say you, abu? you have heard what this man says; what do you think?' "'i think, father, that it were well to try. this man has used his eyes, so well, that he has taken the white man's instruments, and drawn out bullets from wounds. i feel as if this wound will kill me; therefore, if the man fails, i shall be none the worse. indeed, it would be better to die at once, than to feel this fire burning, till it burns me up.' "'you hear what my son says? i am of the same opinion. do your best. should you fail, i swear, by the head of the prophet, that no harm shall come to you.' "the wounded man was a fine young fellow, of three or four and twenty. "'if it is my lord's will, i will try,' i said; 'but i pray you to bear in mind that i do so at your command, and without much hope of accomplishing it successfully. it would, i think, be advisable that the limb should be taken off above the elbow, so that it will be above the spot to which the inflammation has extended.' "the emir looked at his son, who said: "'it matters not, father. 'tis but my left arm, and i shall still have my right, to hurl a spear or wield a sword.' "i need not tell how i got through the operation. everything required for it--the inhaler, sponges, straight and crooked needles, and thread--was in the chest. the young arab objected to be sent to sleep. he said it might be well for cowards, but not for a fighting man. i had to assure him that it was not for his sake, but for my own, that i wished him to go to sleep; and that if i knew he was not suffering pain, i might be able to do the thing without my hand trembling; but that if i knew he was suffering, i should be flurried. "i insisted that the hakims should be sent for. when they came i called them to witness that, at the emir's command, i was going to try to do the operation i had seen the white doctor perform, although i was but an ignorant man, and feared greatly that i might fail. i really was desperately nervous, though at the same time i did feel that, having seen the operation performed two or three times, and as it was a simple one, i ought to be able to do it. of course, i had everything laid handy. the tourniquet was first put on the arm, and screwed tightly. then i administered the chloroform, which took its effect speedily. my nerves were braced up now, and i do think i made a fair job of it--finding and tying up the arteries, cutting and sawing the bone off, and making a flap. a few stitches to keep this together, and it was done, and to my relief the arab, who had lain as rigid as a statue, winced a little when the last stitch was put in. "this was the point on which i had been most anxious. i was not sure whether the amount of chloroform he had inhaled might not have been too strong for him. "'do not try to move,' i said, as he opened his eyes and looked round, as if trying to remember where he was. "as his eyes fell upon me, he said, 'when are you going to begin?' "'i have finished,' i said, 'but you must lie quiet, for some time. the slightest movement now might cause the flow of blood to burst out.' "the emir had stood staring at his son's quiet face, as if amazed beyond the power of speech. four dervishes had held the patient's limbs, so as to prevent any accidental movement. a female slave had held a large basin of warm water, and another handed me the things i pointed to. i had begged the hakims to keep their attention fixed on what i was doing, in order that these also might see how the white doctor did such things. "when his son spoke, the emir gave a gasp of relief. 'he lives,' he murmured, as if even now he could scarcely believe that this was possible; and as he put his hand upon my shoulder it trembled with emotion. "'truly the ways of the white infidels are marvellous. abu, my son, allah has been merciful! he must have meant that you should not die, and thus have sent this man, who has seen the white hakims at work, to save your life! "what is to be done now?' he went on, turning to me. "'he should be raised very gently, and clothes put under his shoulder and head. then he should be carried, on the angareb, to the coolest place in the house. he may drink a little juice of fruit, but he had best eat nothing. the great thing is to prevent fever coming on. with your permission i will stay with him, for if one of the threads you saw me tie, round these little white tubes in the arm, should slip or give way, he would be dead in five minutes; unless this machine round the arm is tightened at once, and the tube that carries the blood is tied up. it would be well that he should have a slave to fan him. i hope he will sleep.' "the emir gave orders for the bed to be carried to the room adjoining his harem. "'his mother and his young wife will want to see him,' he said to me, 'and when the danger that you speak of is past, the women will care for him. you will be master in the room, and will give such orders as you please.' "then he turned off, and walked hastily away. i could see that he had spoken with difficulty, and that, in spite of his efforts to appear composed and tranquil, his mouth was twitching, and his eyes moist. "as soon as the bed had been placed, by my directions, near the open window, the four dervishes left the room. the hakims were on the point of doing so, when i said: "'i will stay here for a few minutes, and will then come out and talk this matter over with you. i have been fortunate, indeed, in remembering so well what i saw. i heard a white hakim explain how he did each thing, and why, to the sheik of the wounded man's party; and i will tell you what i remember of it, and you, with your wisdom in these matters, will be able to do it far better than i.' "when they had retired, the door leading into the harem opened, and a woman, slightly veiled, followed by a younger woman and two slave girls, came in. i stopped her, as she was hurrying towards her son. "'lady,' i said, 'i pray you to speak very quietly, and in few words. it is most important that he should not be excited, in any way, but should be kept perfectly quiet, for the next two or three days.' "'i will do so,' she said. 'may i touch him?' "'you may take his hand in yours, but do not let him move. i will leave you with him for a few minutes. please remember that everything depends upon his not being agitated.' "i went out and joined the hakims. "'truly, mudil, allah has given you strange gifts,' one of them said. 'wonderful is it that you should have remembered so well what you saw; and more wonderful still is it, that you should have the firmness to cut and saw flesh and bone, as if they were those of a dead sheep, with the emir standing by to look at you!' "'i knew that his life, and perhaps mine, depended upon it. the emir would have kept his oath, i doubt not; but when it became known in the town that abu, who is known to all for his bravery and goodness, died in my hands, it would not have been safe for me to leave this house.' "i then explained the reason for each step that i took. they listened most attentively, and asked several questions, showing that they were intensely interested, and most anxious to be able to perform so wonderful an operation themselves. they were greatly surprised at the fact that so little blood flowed. "'it seems,' i said, 'from what i heard the white hakim say, that the blood flowed through those little white tubes. by twisting the tourniquet very tight, that flow of blood is stopped. the great thing is to find those little tubes, and tie them up. as you would notice, the large ones in the inside of the arm could be seen quite plainly. when they cannot be seen, the screw is unloosed so as to allow a small quantity of blood to flow, which shows you where the tubes are. you will remember that i took hold of each, with the bent point of a small wire or a pair of these nippers; and, while you held it, tied the thread tightly round it. when that is done, one is ready to cut the bone. you saw me push the flesh back, so as to cut the bone as high up as possible; that is because the white doctor said the flesh would shrink up, and the bone would project. i cut the flesh straight on one side, and on the other with a flap that will, when it is stitched, cover over the bone and the rest of the flesh, and make what the hakim called a pad. he said all cutting off of limbs was done in this way, but of course the tubes would not lie in the same place, and the cutting would have to be made differently; but it was all the same system. he called these simple operations, and said that anyone with a firm hand, and a knowledge of where these tubes lie, ought to be able to do it, after seeing it done once or twice. he said, of course, it would not be so neatly done as by men who had been trained to it; but that, in cases of extreme necessity, anyone who had seen it done once or twice, and had sufficient nerve, could do it; especially if they had, ready at hand, this stuff that makes the wounded man sleep and feel no pain. "'i listened very attentively, because all seemed to me almost like magic, but i certainly did not think that i should ever have to do such a thing, myself.' "'but what would be done if they had not that sleep medicine?' "'the hakim said that, in that case, the wounded man would have to be fastened down by bandages to the bed, and held by six strong men, so that he could not move in the slightest. however, there is enough of that stuff to last a hundred times or more; for, as you see, only a good-sized spoonful was used.' "the emir, who had passed through the harem rooms, now opened the door. "'come in,' he said. 'my son is quiet, and has not moved. he has spoken to his mother, and seems quite sensible. is there anything more for you to do to him?' "'i will put a bandage loosely round his arm, and bind it to his body so that he cannot move it in his sleep, or on first waking. it will not be necessary for me to stay with him, as the ladies of the harem can look after him; but i must remain in the next room, so as to be ready to run in, at once, should they see that the wound is bleeding again. i have asked the hakims to make a soothing potion, to aid him to sleep long and soundly.' "as i went up to the side of the bed, abu smiled. i bent down to him, and he said in a low voice: "'all the pain has gone. may allah bless you!' "'i am afraid that you will feel more pain, tomorrow, but i do not think it will be so bad as it was before. now, i hope you will try to go to sleep. you will be well looked after, and i shall be in the next room, if you want me. the hakims will give you a soothing draught soon, and you can have cool drinks when you want them.' "things went on as well as i could have wished. in four or five days the threads came away, and i loosened the tourniquet slightly, and strapped up the edges of the wound, which were already showing signs of healing. for the first twenty-four hours i had remained always on watch; after that the hakims took their turns, i remaining in readiness to tighten up the tourniquet, should there be any rush of blood. i did not leave the emir's house, but slept in a room close by that of the patient. "there was now, however, no longer need for my doing so. the splendid constitution of the young baggara had, indeed, from the first rendered any attendance unnecessary. there was no fever, and very little local inflammation; and i was able to gladden his heart by telling him that, in another fortnight, he would be able to be up. "the day i was intending to leave, the emir sent for me. he was alone. "'the more i think over this matter,' he said, 'the more strange it is that you should be able to do all these wonderful things, after having seen it done once by the white hakim. the more i think of it, the more certain i feel that you are not what you seem. i have sent for saleh and abdullah. they have told me what you did for them, and that you gave up your horse to them, and dressed their wounds, and brought them in here. they are full of praise of your goodness, and but few of my people would have thus acted, for strangers. they would have given them a drink of water, and ridden on. "now, tell me frankly and without fear. i have thought it over, and i feel sure that you, yourself, are a white hakim, who escaped from the battle in which hicks's army was destroyed.' "'i am not a hakim. all that i said was true--that although i have seen operations performed, i have never performed them myself. as to the rest, i answer you frankly, i am an englishman. i did escape when the black soudanese battalion surrendered, three days after the battle. i was not a fighting officer. i was with them as interpreter. i may say that, though i am not a hakim, i did for some time study with the intention of becoming one, and so saw many operations performed.' "'i am glad that you told me,' the emir said gravely. 'your people are brave and very wise, though they cannot stand against the power of the mahdi. but were you sheitan himself, it would be nothing to me. you have saved my son's life. you are the honoured guest of my house. your religion is different from mine, but as you showed that you were willing to aid followers of the prophet and the mahdi, although they were your enemies, surely i, for whom you have done so much, may well forget that difference.' "'i thank you, emir. from what i had seen of you, i felt sure that my secret would be safe with you. we christians feel no enmity against followers of mahomet--the hatred is all on your side. and yet, 'tis strange, the allah that you worship, and the god of the christians, is one and the same. mahomet himself had no enmity against the christians, and regarded our christ as a great prophet, like himself. "our queen reigns, in india, over many more mohamedans than are ruled by the sultan of turkey. they are loyal to her, and know that under her sway no difference is made between them and her christian subjects, and have fought as bravely for her as her own white troops.' "'i had never thought,' the emir said, 'that the time would come when i should call an infidel my friend; but now that i can do so, i feel that there is much in what you say. however, your secret must be kept. were it known that you are a white man, you would be torn to pieces in the streets; and even were you to remain here, where assuredly none would dare touch you, the news would speedily travel to my lord the mahdi, and he would send a troop of horse to bring you to him. therefore, though i would fain honour you, i see that it is best that you should, to all save myself, continue to be mudil. i will not even, as i would otherwise have done, assign you a house, and slaves, and horses in token of my gratitude to you for having saved the life of my son. "'something i must do, or i should seem utterly ungrateful. i can, at any rate, give you rooms here, and treat you as an honoured guest. this would excite no remark, as it would be naturally expected that you would stay here until my son is perfectly cured. i shall tell no one, not even my wife; but abu i will tell, when he is cured, and the secret will be as safe with him as with me. i think it would please him to know. although a baggara like myself, and as brave as any, he is strangely gentle in disposition; and though ready and eager to fight, when attacked by other tribes, he does not care to go on expeditions against villages which have not acknowledged the power of the mahdi, and makes every excuse to avoid doing so. it will please him to know that the man who has saved his life is one who, although of a different race and religion, is willing to do kindness to an enemy; and will love and honour you more, for knowing it.' "'i thank you deeply, emir, and anything that i can do for members of your family, i shall be glad to do. i have a knowledge of the usages of many of the drugs in the chest that was brought here. i have not dared to say so before, because i could not have accounted for knowing such things.' "so at present i am installed in the emir's palace, and my prospects grow brighter and brighter. after the great victory the mahdi has won, it is likely that he will be emboldened to advance against khartoum. in that case he will, no doubt, summon his followers from all parts, and i shall be able to ride with the emir or his son; and it will be hard if, when we get near the city, i cannot find some opportunity of slipping off and making my way there. whether it will be prudent to do so is another question, for i doubt whether the egyptian troops there will offer any resolute resistance to the dervish hosts; and in that case, i should have to endeavour to make my way down to dongola, and from there either by boat or by the river bank to assouan. "a month later. i have not written for some time, because there has been nothing special to put down. all the little details of the life here can be told to my dear wife, if i should ever see her again; but they are not of sufficient interest to write down. i have been living at the emir's house, ever since. i do not know what special office i am supposed to occupy in his household--that is, what office the people in general think that i hold. in fact, i am his guest, and an honoured one. when he goes out i ride beside him and abu, who has now sufficiently recovered to sit his horse. i consider myself as medical attendant, in ordinary, to him and his family. i have given up all practice in the town--in the first place because i do not wish to make enemies of the two doctors, who really seem very good fellows, and i am glad to find that they have performed two or three operations successfully; and in the second place, were i to go about trying to cure the sick, people would get so interested in me that i should be continually questioned as to how i attained my marvellous skill. happily, though no doubt they must have felt somewhat jealous at my success with abu, i have been able to do the hakims some service, put fees into their pockets, and at the same time benefited poor people here. i have told them that, just as i recognized the bottle of chloroform, so i have recognized some of the bottles from which the white hakims used to give powder to sick people. "'for instance,' i said, 'you see this bottle, which is of a different shape from the others. it is full of a white, feathery-looking powder. they used to give this to people suffering from fever--about as much as you could put on your nail for men and women, and half as much for children. they used to put it in a little water, and stir it up, and give it to them night and morning. they call it kena, or something like that. it did a great deal of good, and generally drove away the fever. "'this other bottle they also used a good deal. they put a little of its contents in water, and it made a lotion for weak and sore eyes. they called it zing. they saw i was a careful man, and i often made the eye wash, and put the other white powder up into little packets when they were busy, as fever and ophthalmia are the two most common complaints among the natives.' "the hakims were immensely pleased, and both told me, afterwards, that both these medicines had done wonders. i told them that i thought there were some more bottles of these medicines in the chest, and that when they had finished those i had now given them, i would look out for the others. i had, in fact, carried off a bottle both of quinine and zinc powder for my own use, and with the latter i greatly benefited several of the emir's children and grandchildren, all of whom were suffering from ophthalmia; or from sore eyes, that would speedily have developed that disease, if they had not been attended to. "i had only performed one operation, which was essentially a minor one. abu told me that his wife, of whom he was very fond, was suffering very great pain from a tooth--could i cure her? "i said that, without seeing the tooth, i could not do anything, and he at once said: "'as it is for her good, mudil, i will bring her into this room, and she shall unveil so that you can examine the tooth.' "she was quite a girl, and for an arab very good looking. she and the emir's wife were continually sending me out choice bits from their dinner, but i had not before seen her face. she was evidently a good deal confused, at thus unveiling before a man, but abu said: "'it is with my permission that you unveil, therefore there can be no harm in it. besides, has not mudil saved my life, and so become my brother?' "he opened her mouth. the tooth was far back and broken, and the gum was greatly swelled. "'it is very bad,' i said to abu. 'it would hurt her terribly, if i were to try and take it out; but if she will take the sleeping medicine i gave you, i think that i could do it.' "'then she shall take it,' he said at once. 'it is not unpleasant. on the contrary, i dreamt a pleasant dream while you were taking off my arm. please do it, at once.' "i at once fetched the chloroform, the inhaler, and a pair of forceps which looked well suited for the purpose, and probably were intended for it. i then told her to lie down on the angareb, which i placed close to the window. "'now, abu,' i said, 'directly she has gone off to sleep, you must force her mouth open, and put the handle of your dagger between her teeth. it will not hurt her at all. but i cannot get at the tooth unless the mouth is open, and we cannot open it until she is asleep, for the whole side of her face is swollen, and the jaw almost stiff.' "the chloroform took effect very quickly. her husband had some difficulty in forcing the mouth open. when he had once done so, i took a firm hold of the tooth, and wrenched it out. "'you can withdraw the dagger,' i said, 'and then lift her up, and let her rinse her mouth well with the warm water i brought in. she will have little pain afterwards, though of course it will take some little time, before the swelling goes down.' "then i went out, and left them together. in a few minutes, abu came out. "'she has no pain,' he said. 'she could hardly believe, when she came round, that the tooth was out. it is a relief, indeed. she has cried, day and night, for the past three days.' "'tell her that, for the rest of the day, she had better keep quiet; and go to sleep if possible, which i have no doubt she will do, as she must be worn out with the pain she has been suffering.' "'i begin to see, mudil, that we are very ignorant. we can fight, but that is all we are good for. how much better it would be if, instead of regarding you white men as enemies, we could get some of you to live here, and teach us the wonderful things that you know!' "'truly it would be better,' i said. 'it all depends upon yourselves. you have a great country. if you would but treat the poor people here well, and live in peace with other tribes; and send word down to cairo that you desire, above all things, white hakims and others who would teach you, to come up and settle among you, assuredly they would come. there are thousands of white men and women working in india, and china, and other countries, content to do good, not looking for high pay, but content to live poorly. the difficulty is not in getting men willing to heal and to teach, but to persuade those whom they would benefit to allow them to do the work.' "abu shook his head. "'that is it,' he said. 'i would rather be able to do such things as you do, than be one of the most famous soldiers of the mahdi; but i could never persuade others. they say that the mahdi himself, although he is hostile to the turks, and would conquer egypt, would willingly befriend white men. but even he, powerful as he is, cannot go against the feelings of his emirs. must we always be ignorant? must we always be fighting? i can see no way out of it. can you, mudil?' "'i can see but one way,' i said, 'and that may seem to you impossible, because you know nothing of the strength of england. we have, as you know, easily beaten the egyptian army; and we are now protectors of egypt. if you invade that country, as the mahdi has already threatened to do, it is we who will defend it; and if there is no other way of obtaining peace, we shall some day send an army to recover the soudan. you will fight, and you will fight desperately, but you have no idea of the force that will advance against you. you know how osman digna's tribes on the red sea have been defeated, not by the superior courage of our men, but by our superior arms. and so it will be here. it may be many years before it comes about, but if you insist on war, that is what will come. "'then, when we have taken the soudan, there will come peace, and the peasant will till his soil in safety. those who desire to be taught will be taught; great canals from the nile will irrigate the soil, and the desert will become fruitful.' "'you really think that would come of it?' abu asked, earnestly. "'i do indeed, abu. we have conquered many brave peoples, far more numerous than yours; and those who were our bitterest enemies now see how they have benefited by it. certainly, england would not undertake the cost of such an expedition lightly; but if she is driven to it by your advance against egypt, she will assuredly do so. your people--i mean the baggaras and their allies--would suffer terribly; but the people whom you have conquered, whose villages you have burned, whose women you have carried off, would rejoice.' "'we would fight,' abu said passionately. "'certainly you would fight, and fight gallantly, but it would not avail you. besides, abu, you would be fighting for that ignorance you have just regretted, and against the teaching and progress you have wished for.' "'it is hard,' abu said, quietly. "'it is hard, but it has been the fate of all people who have resisted the advance of knowledge and civilization. those who accept civilization, as the people of india--of whom there are many more than in all africa--have accepted it, are prosperous. in america and other great countries, far beyond the seas, the native indians opposed it, but in vain; and now a great white race inhabit the land, and there is but a handful left of those who opposed them.' "'these things are hard to understand. if, as you say, your people come here some day to fight against us, i shall fight. if my people are defeated, and i am still alive, i shall say it is the will of allah; let us make the best of it, and try to learn to be like those who have conquered us. i own to you that i am sick of bloodshed--not of blood shed in battle, but the blood of peaceful villagers; and though i grieve for my own people, i should feel that it was for the good of the land that the white men had become the masters.'" chapter : the last page. "khartoum, september rd, . "it is a long time since i made my last entry. i could put no date to it then, and till yesterday could hardly even have named the month. i am back again among friends, but i can hardly say that i am safer here than i was at el obeid. i have not written, because there was nothing to write. one day was like another, and as my paper was finished, and there were no incidents in my life, i let the matter slide. "again and again i contemplated attempting to make my way to this town, but the difficulties would be enormous. there were the dangers of the desert, the absence of wells, the enormous probability of losing my way, and, most of all, the chance that, before i reached khartoum, it would have been captured. the emir had been expecting news of its fall, for months. "there had been several fights, in some of which they had been victorious. in others, even according to their own accounts, they had been worsted. traitors in the town kept them well informed of the state of supplies. they declared that these were almost exhausted, and that the garrison must surrender. indeed, several of the commanders of bodies of troops had offered to surrender posts held by them. "so i had put aside all hope of escape, and decided not to make any attempt until after khartoum fell, when the dervishes boasted they would march down and conquer egypt, to the sea. "they had already taken berber. dongola was at their mercy. i thought the best chance would be to go down with them, as far as they went, and then to slip away. in this way i should shorten the journey i should have to traverse alone; and, being on the river bank, could at least always obtain water. besides, i might possibly secure some small native boat, and with the help of the current get down to assouan before the dervishes could arrive there. this i should have attempted; but, three weeks ago, an order came from the mahdi to el khatim, ordering him to send to omdurman five hundred well-armed men, who were to be commanded by his son abu. khatim was to remain at el obeid, with the main body of his force, until further orders. "abu came to me at once, with the news. "'you will take me with you, abu,' i exclaimed. 'this is the chance i have been hoping for. once within a day's journey of khartoum, i could slip away at night, and it would be very hard if i could not manage to cross the nile into khartoum.' "'i will take you, if you wish it,' he said. 'the danger will be very great, not in going with me, but in making your way into khartoum.' "'it does not seem to me that it would be so,' i said. 'i should strike the river four or five miles above the town, cut a bundle of rushes, swim out to the middle of the river, drift down till i was close to the town, and then swim across.' "'so be it,' he said. 'it is your will, not mine.' "khatim came to me afterwards, and advised me to stay, but i said that it might be years before i had another chance to escape; and that, whatever risk there was, i would prefer running it. "'then we shall see you no more,' he said, 'for khartoum will assuredly fall, and you will be killed.' "'if you were a prisoner in the hands of the white soldiers, emir,' i said, 'i am sure that you would run any risk, if there was a chance of getting home again. so it is with me. i have a wife and child, in cairo. her heart must be sick with pain, at the thought of my death. i will risk anything to get back as soon as possible. if i reach khartoum, and it is afterwards captured, i can disguise myself and appear as i now am, hide for a while, and then find out where abu is and join him again. but perhaps, when he sees that no further resistance can be made, general gordon will embark on one of his steamers and go down the river, knowing that it would be better for the people of the town that the mahdi should enter without opposition; in which case you would scarcely do harm to the peaceful portion of the population, or to the troops who had laid down their arms.' "'very well,' the emir said. 'abu has told me that he has tried to dissuade you, but that you will go. we owe you a great debt of gratitude, for all that you have done for us, and therefore i will not try to dissuade you. i trust allah will protect you.' "and so we started the next morning. i rode by the side of abu, and as all knew that i was the hakim who had taken off his arm, none wondered. the journey was made without any incident worth recording. abu did not hurry. we made a long march between each of the wells, and then halted for a day. so we journeyed, until we made our last halt before arriving at omdurman. "'you are still determined to go?' abu said to me. "'i shall leave tonight, my friend.' "'i shall not forget all that you have told me about your people, hakim. should any white man fall into my hands, i will spare him for your sake. these are evil times, and i regret all that has passed. i believe that the mahdi is a prophet; but i fear that, in many things, he has misunderstood the visions and orders he received. i see that evil rather than good has fallen upon the land, and that though we loved not the rule of the egyptians, we were all better off under it than we are now. we pass through ruined villages, and see the skeletons of many people. we know that where the waterwheels formerly spread the water from the rivers over the fields, is now a desert; and that, except the fighting men, the people perish from hunger. "'all this is bad. i see that, if we enter egypt, we shall be like a flight of locusts. we shall eat up the country and leave a desert behind us. surely this cannot be according to the wishes of allah, who is all merciful. you have taught me much in your talks with me, and i do not see things as i used to. so much do i feel it, that in my heart i could almost wish that your countrymen should come here, and establish peace and order. "'the mohamedans of india, you tell me, are well content with their rulers. men may exercise their religion and their customs, without hindrance. they know that the strong cannot prey upon the weak, and each man reaps what he has sown, in peace. you tell me that india was like the soudan before you went there--that there were great conquerors, constant wars, and the peasants starved while the robbers grew rich; and that, under your rule, peace and contentment were restored. i would that it could be so here. but it seems, to me, impossible that we should be conquered by people so far away.' "'i hope that it will be so, abu; and i think that if the great and good white general, governor gordon, is murdered at khartoum, the people of my country will never rest until his death has been avenged.' "'you had better take your horse,' he said. 'if you were to go on foot, it would be seen that there was a horse without a rider, and there would be a search for you; but if you and your horse are missing, it will be supposed that you have ridden on to omdurman to give notice of our coming, and none will think more of the matter.' "as soon as the camp was asleep, i said goodbye to abu; and took my horse by the reins and led him into the desert, half a mile away. then i mounted, and rode fast. the stars were guide enough, and in three hours i reached the nile. i took off the horse's saddle and bridle, and left him to himself. then i crept out and cut a bundle of rushes, and swam into the stream with them. "after floating down the river for an hour, i saw the light of a few fires on the right bank, and guessed that this was a dervish force, beleaguering khartoum from that side. i drifted on for another hour, drawing closer and closer to the shore, until i could see walls and forts; then i stripped off my dervish frock, and swam ashore. "i had, during the time we had been on the journey, abstained from staining my skin under my garments, in order that i might be recognized as a white man, as soon as i bared my arms. "i lay down till it was broad daylight, and then walked up to the foot of a redoubt. there were shouts of surprise from the black soldiers there, as i approached. i shouted to them, in arabic, that i was an englishman; and two or three of them at once ran down the slope, and aided me to climb it. i was taken, at my request, to general gordon, who was surprised, indeed, when i told him that i was a survivor of hicks's force, and had been living nine months at el obeid. "'you are heartily welcome, sir,' he said; 'but i fear that you have come into an even greater danger than you have left, for our position here is well-nigh desperate. for months i have been praying for aid from england, and my last news was that it was just setting out, so i fear there is no hope that it will reach me in time. the government of england will have to answer, before god, for their desertion of me, and of the poor people here, whom they sent me to protect from the mahdi. "'for myself, i am content. i have done my duty as far as lay in my power, but i had a right to rely upon receiving support from those who sent me. i am in the hands of god. but for the many thousands who trusted in me, and remained here, i feel very deeply. "'now the first thing is to provide you with clothes. i am expecting colonel stewart here, every minute, and he will see that you are made comfortable.' "'i shall be glad to place myself at your disposal, sir,' i said. 'i speak arabic fluently, and shall be ready to perform any service of which i may be capable.' "'i thank you,' he said, 'and will avail myself of your offer, if i see any occasion; but at present, we have rather to suffer than to do. we have occasional fights, but of late the attacks have been feeble, and i think that the mahdi depends upon hunger rather than force to obtain possession of this town. "this evening, i will ask you to tell me your story. colonel stewart will show you a room. there is only one other white man--mr. power--here. we live together as one family, of which you will now be a member.' "i felt strange when i came to put on my european clothes. mr. power, who tells me he has been here for some years, as correspondent of the times, has this afternoon taken me round the defences, and into the workshops. i think the place can resist any attacks, if the troops remain faithful; but of this there is a doubt. a good many of the soudanese have already been sent away. as gordon said at dinner this evening, if he had but a score of english officers, he would be perfectly confident that he could resist any enemy save starvation. "september th: "it has been settled that colonel stewart and mr. power are to go down the river in the abbas, and i am to go with them. the general proposed it to me. i said that i could not think of leaving him here by himself, so he said kindly: "'i thank you, mr. hilliard, but you could do no good here, and would only be throwing away your life. we can hold on to the end of the year, though the pinch will be very severe; but i think we can make the stores last, till then. but by the end of december our last crust will have been eaten, and the end will have come. it will be a satisfaction to me to know that i have done my best, and fail only because of the miserable delays and hesitation of government.' "so it is settled that i am going. the gunboats are to escort us for some distance. were it not for gordon, i should feel delighted at the prospect. it is horrible to leave him--one of the noblest englishmen!--alone to his fate. my only consolation is that if i remained i could not avert it, but should only be a sharer in it. "september th: "we left khartoum on the th, and came down without any serious trouble until this morning, when the boat struck on a rock in the cataract, opposite a village called hebbeh. a hole has been knocked in her bottom, and there is not a shadow of hope of getting her off. numbers of the natives have gathered on the shore. i have advised that we should disregard their invitations to land, but that, as there would be no animosity against the black crew, they would be safe; and that we three whites should take the ship's boat, and four of the crew, put provisions for a week on board, and make our way down the river. colonel stewart, however, feels convinced that the people can be trusted, and that we had better land and place ourselves under the protection of the sheik. he does not know the arabs as well as i do. "however, as he has determined to go ashore, i can do nothing. i consider it unlikely, in the extreme, that there will be any additions to this journal. if, at any time in the future, this should fall into the hands of any of my countrymen, i pray that they will send it down to my dear wife, mrs. hilliard, whom, i pray, god may bless and comfort, care of the manager of the bank, cairo." chapter : a momentous communication. gregory had, after finishing the record, sat without moving until the dinner hour. it was a relief to him to know that his father had not spent the last years of his life as he had feared, as a miserable slave--ill treated, reviled, insulted, perhaps chained and beaten by some brutal taskmaster; but had been in a position where, save that he was an exile, kept from his home and wife, his lot had not been unbearable. he knew more of him than he had ever known before. it was as a husband that his mother had always spoken of him; but here he saw that he was daring, full of resource, quick to grasp any opportunity, hopeful and yet patient, longing eagerly to rejoin his wife, and yet content to wait until the chances should be all in his favour. he was unaffectedly glad thus to know him; to be able, in future, to think of him as one of whom he would have been proud; who would assuredly have won his way to distinction. it was not so that he had before thought of him. his mother had said that he was of good family, and that it was on account of his marriage with her that he had quarrelled with his relations. it had always seemed strange to him that he should have been content to take, as she had told him, an altogether subordinate position in a mercantile house in alexandria. she had accounted for his knowledge of arabic by the fact that he had been, for two years, exploring the temples and tombs of egypt with a learned professor; but surely, as a man of good family, he could have found something to do in england, instead of coming out to take so humble a post in egypt. gregory knew nothing of the difficulty that a young man in england has, in obtaining an appointment of any kind, or of fighting his way single handed. influence went for much in egypt, and it seemed to him that, even if his father had quarrelled with his own people, there must have been many ways open to him of maintaining himself honourably. therefore he had always thought that, although he might have been all that his mother described him--the tenderest and most loving of husbands, a gentleman, and estimable in all respects--his father must have been wanting in energy and ambition, deficient in the qualities that would fit him to fight his own battle, and content to gain a mere competence, instead of struggling hard to make his way up the ladder. he had accounted for his going up as interpreter, with hicks pasha, by the fact that his work with the contractor was at an end, and that he saw no other opening for himself. he now understood how mistaken he had been, in his estimate of his father's character; and wondered, even more than before, why he should have taken that humble post at alexandria. his mother had certainly told him, again and again, that he had done so simply because the doctors had said that she could not live in england; but surely, in all the wide empire of england, there must be innumerable posts that a gentleman could obtain. perhaps he should understand it better, some day. at present, it seemed unaccountable to him. he felt sure that, had he lived, his father would have made a name for himself; and that it was in that hope, and not of the pay that he would receive as an interpreter, that he had gone up with hicks; and that, had he not died at that little village by the nile, he would assuredly have done so, for the narrative he had left behind him would in itself, if published, have shown what stuff there was in him. it was hard that fate should have snatched him away, just when it had seemed that his trials were over, that he was on the point of being reunited to his wife. still, it was a consolation to know he had died suddenly, as one falls in battle; not as a slave, worn out by grief and suffering. as he left his hut, he said to zaki: "i shall not want you again this evening; but mind, we must be on the move at daylight." "you did not say whether we were to take the horses, master; but i suppose you will do so?" "oh, i forgot to tell you that we are going to have camels. they are to be put on board for us, tonight. they are fast camels and, as the distance from the point where we shall land to the atbara will not be more than seventy or eighty miles, we shall be able to do it in a day." "that will be very good, master. camels are much better than horses, for the desert. i have got everything else ready." after dinner was over, the party broke up quickly, as many of the officers had preparations to make. gregory went off to the tent of the officer with whom he was best acquainted in the soudanese regiment. "i thought that i would come and have a chat with you, if you happened to be in." "i shall be very glad, but i bar fashoda. one is quite sick of the name." "no, it was not fashoda that i was going to talk to you about. i want to ask you something about england. i know really nothing about it, for i was born in alexandria, shortly after my parents came out from england. "is it easy for anyone who has been well educated, and who is a gentleman, to get employment there? i mean some sort of appointment, say, in india or the west indies." "easy! my dear hilliard, the camel in the eye of a needle is a joke to it. if a fellow is eighteen, and has had a first-rate education and a good private coach, that is, a tutor, he may pass through his examination either for the army, or the civil service, or the indian service. there are about five hundred go up to each examination, and seventy or eighty at the outside get in. the other four hundred or so are chucked. some examinations are for fellows under nineteen, others are open for a year or two longer. suppose, finally, you don't get in; that is to say, when you are two-and-twenty, your chance of getting any appointment, whatever, in the public service is at an end." "then interest has nothing to do with it?" "well, yes. there are a few berths in the foreign office, for example, in which a man has to get a nomination before going in for the exam; but of course the age limit tells there, as well as in any other." "and if a man fails altogether, what is there open to him?" the other shrugged his shoulders. "well, as far as i know, if he hasn't capital he can emigrate. that is what numbers of fellows do. if he has interest, he can get a commission in the militia, and from that possibly into the line; or he can enlist as a private, for the same object. there is a third alternative, he can hang himself. of course, if he happens to have a relation in the city he can get a clerkship; but that alternative, i should say, is worse than the third." "but i suppose he might be a doctor, a clergyman, or a lawyer?" "i don't know much about those matters, but i do know that it takes about five years' grinding, and what is called 'walking the hospitals,' that is, going round the wards with the surgeons, before one is licensed to kill. i think, but i am not sure, that three years at the bar would admit you to practice, and usually another seven or eight years are spent, before you earn a penny. as for the church, you have to go through the university, or one of the places we call training colleges; and when, at last, you are ordained, you may reckon, unless you have great family interest, on remaining a curate, with perhaps one hundred or one hundred and fifty pounds per annum, for eighteen or twenty years." "and no amount of energy will enable a man of, say, four-and-twenty, without a profession, to obtain a post on which he could live with some degree of comfort?" "i don't think energy would have anything to do with it. you cannot drop into a merchant's office and say, 'i want a snug berth, out in china;' or 'i should like an agency, in mesopotamia.' if you have luck, anything is possible. if you haven't luck, you ought to fall back on my three alternatives--emigrate, enlist, or hang yourself. of course, you can sponge on your friends for a year or two, if you are mean enough to do so; but there is an end to that sort of thing, in time. "may i ask why you put the question, hilliard? you have really a splendid opening, here. you are surely not going to be foolish enough to chuck it, with the idea of returning to england, and taking anything that may turn up?" "no, i am not so foolish as that. i have had, as you say, luck--extraordinary luck--and i have quite made up my mind to stay in the service. no, i am really asking you because i know so little of england that i wondered how men who had a fair education, but no family interest, did get on." "they very rarely do get on," the other said. "of course, if they are inventive geniuses they may discover something--an engine, for example, that will do twice the work with half the consumption of fuel that any other engine will do; or, if chemically inclined, they may discover something that will revolutionize dyeing, for example: but not one man in a thousand is a genius; and, as a rule, the man you are speaking of--the ordinary public school and 'varsity man--if he has no interest, and is not bent upon entering the army, even as a private, emigrates if he hasn't sufficient income to live upon at home." "thank you! i had no idea it was so difficult to make a living in england, or to obtain employment, for a well-educated man of two or three and twenty." "my dear hilliard, that is the problem that is exercising the minds of the whole of the middle class of england, with sons growing up. of course, men of business can take their sons into their own offices, and train them to their own profession; but after all, if a man has four or five sons, he cannot take them all into his office with a view to partnership. he may take one, but the others have to make their own way, somehow." they chatted now upon the war, the dates upon which the various regiments would go down, and the chance of the khalifa collecting another army, and trying conclusions with the invaders again. at last, gregory got up and went back to his hut. he could now understand why his father, having quarrelled with his family, might have found himself obliged to take the first post that was offered, however humble, in order to obtain the advantage of a warm climate for his wife. "he must have felt it awfully," he mused. "if he had been the sort of man i had always thought him, he could have settled down to the life. but now i know him better, i can understand that it must have been terrible for him, and he would be glad to exchange it for the interpretership, where he would have some chance of distinguishing himself; or, at any rate, of taking part in exciting events. "i will open that packet, but from what my mother said, i do not think it will be of any interest to me, now. i fancy, by what she said, that it contained simply my father's instructions as to what she was to do, in the event of his death during the campaign. i don't see what else it can be." he drew the curtains he had rigged up, at the doorway and window, to keep out insects; lighted his lantern; and then, sitting down on the ground by his bed, opened the packet his mother had given him. the outer cover was in her handwriting. "my dearest boy: "i have, as i told you, kept the enclosed packet, which is not to be opened until i have certain news of your father's death. this news, i trust, you will some day obtain. as you see, the enclosed packet is directed to me. i do not think that you will find in it anything of importance, to yourself. it probably contains only directions and advice for my guidance, in case i should determine to return to england. i have been the less anxious to open it, because i have been convinced that it is so; for of course, i know the circumstances of his family, and there could be nothing new that he could write to me on that score. "i have told you that he quarrelled with his father, because he chose to marry me. as you have heard from me, i was the daughter of a clergyman, and at his death took a post as governess. your father fell in love with me. he was the son of the honorable james hartley, who was brother to the earl of langdale. your father had an elder brother. mr. hartley was a man of the type now, happily, less common than it was twenty years ago. he had but a younger brother's portion, and a small estate that had belonged to his mother; but he was as proud as if he had been a peer of the realm, and owner of a county. i do not know exactly what the law of england is--whether, at the death of his brother, your grandfather would have inherited the title, or not. i never talked on this subject with your father, who very seldom alluded to matters at home. he had, also, two sisters. "as he was clever, and had already gained some reputation by his explorations in egypt; and was, moreover, an exceptionally handsome man--at least, i thought so--your grandfather made up his mind that he would make a very good marriage. when he learned of your father's affection for me, he was absolutely furious, told his son that he never wished to see him again, and spoke of me in a manner that gregory resented; and as a result, they quarrelled. "your father left the house, never to enter it again. i would have released him from his promise, but he would not hear of it, and we were married. he had written for magazines and newspapers, on egyptian subjects, and thought that he could make a living for us both, with his pen; but unhappily, he found that great numbers of men were trying to do the same; and that, although his papers on egyptian discoveries had always been accepted, it was quite another thing when he came to write on general subjects. "we had a hard time of it, but we were very happy, nevertheless. then came the time when my health began to give way. i had a terrible cough, and the doctor said that i must have a change to a warmer climate. we were very poor then--so poor that we had only a few shillings left, and lived in one room. your father saw an advertisement for a man to go out to the branch of a london firm, at alexandria. without saying a word to me, he went and obtained it, thanks to his knowledge of arabic. "he was getting on well in the firm, when the bombardment of alexandria took place. the offices and stores of his employers were burned; and, as it would take many months before they could be rebuilt, the employees were ordered home; but any who chose to stay were permitted to do so, and received three months' pay. your father saw that there would be many chances, when the country settled down, and so took a post under a contractor of meat for the army. "we moved to cairo. shortly after our arrival there he was, as he thought, fortunate in obtaining the appointment of an interpreter with hicks pasha. i did not try to dissuade him. everyone supposed that the egyptian troops would easily defeat the dervishes. there was some danger, of course; but it seemed to me, as it did to him, that this opening would lead to better things; and that, when the rebellion was put down, he would be able to obtain some good civil appointment, in the soudan. it was not the thought of his pay, as interpreter, that weighed in the slightest with either of us. i was anxious, above all things, that he should be restored to a position where he could associate with gentlemen, as one of themselves, and could again take his real name." gregory started, as he read this. he had never had an idea that the name he bore was not rightly his own, and even the statement of his grandfather's name had not struck him as affecting himself. "your father had an honourable pride in his name, which was an old one; and when he took the post at alexandria, which was little above that of an ordinary office messenger, he did not care that he should be recognized, or that one of his name should be known to be occupying such a station. he did not change his name, he simply dropped the surname. his full name was gregory hilliard hartley. he had always intended, when he had made a position for himself, to recur to it; and, of course, it will be open to you to do so, also. but i know that it would have been his wish that you, like him, should not do so, unless you had made such a position for yourself that you would be a credit to it. "on starting, your father left me to decide whether i should go home. i imagine that the packet merely contains his views on that subject. he knew what mine were. i would rather have begged my bread, than have gone back to ask for alms of the man who treated his son so cruelly. it is probable that, by this time, the old man is dead; but i should object as much to have to appeal to my husband's brother, a character i disliked. although he knew that his father's means were small, he was extravagant to the last degree, and the old man was weak enough to keep himself in perpetual difficulties, to satisfy his son. your father looked for no pecuniary assistance from his brother; but the latter might, at least, have come to see him; or written kindly to him, when he was in london. as your father was writing in his own name for magazines, his address could be easily found out, by anyone who wanted to know it. he never sent one single word to him, and i should object quite as much to appeal to him, as to the old man. "as to the sisters, who were younger than my husband, they were nice girls; but even if your grandfather is dead, and has, as no doubt would be the case, left what he had between them, it certainly would not amount to much. your father has told me that the old man had mortgaged the estate, up to the hilt, to pay his brother's debts; and that when it came to be sold, as it probably would be at his death, there would be very little left for the girls. therefore, certainly i could not go and ask them to support us. "my hope is, my dear boy, that you may be able to make your way, here, in the same manner as your father was doing, when he fell; and that, someday, you may attain to an honourable position, in which you will be able, if you visit england, to call upon your aunts, not as one who has anything to ask of them, but as a relative of whom they need not feel in any way ashamed. "i feel that my end is very near, gregory. i hope to say all that i have to say to you, before it comes, but i may not have an opportunity; and in that case, some time may elapse before you read this, and it will come to you as a voice from the grave. i am not, in any way, wishing to bind you to any course of action, but only to explain fully your position to you, and to tell you my thoughts. "god bless you, my dear boy, prosper and keep you! i know enough of you to be sure that, whatever your course may be, you will bear yourself as a true gentleman, worthy of your father and of the name you bear. "your loving mother." gregory sat for some time before opening the other enclosure. it contained an open envelope, on which was written "to my wife;" and three others, also unfastened, addressed respectively, "the hon. james hartley, king's lawn, tavistock, devon"; the second, "g. hilliard hartley, esquire, the albany, piccadilly, london;" the third, "miss hartley," the address being the same as that of her father. he first opened the one to his mother. "my dearest wife, "i hope that you will never read these lines, but that i shall return to you safe and sound--i am writing this, in case it should be otherwise--and that you will never have occasion to read these instructions, or rather i should say this advice, for it is no more than that. we did talk the matter over, but you were so wholly averse from any idea of ever appealing to my father, or family, however sore the straits to which you might be reduced, that i could not urge the matter upon you; and yet, although i sympathize most thoroughly with your feelings, i think that in case of dire necessity you should do so, and at least afford my father the opportunity of making up for his treatment of myself. the small sum that i left in your hands must soon be exhausted. if i am killed, you will, perhaps, obtain a small pension; but this, assuredly, would not be sufficient to maintain you and the boy in comfort. i know that you said, at the time, that possibly you could add to it by teaching. should this be so, you may be able to remain in egypt; and when the boy grows up, he will obtain employment of some sort, here. "but should you be unsuccessful in this direction, i do not see what you could do. were you to go to england, with the child, what chance would you have of obtaining employment there, without friends or references? i am frightened at the prospect. i know that, were you alone, you would do anything rather than apply to my people; but you have the child to think of, and, painful as it would be to you, it yet seems to me the best thing that could be done. at any rate, i enclose you three letters to my brother, father, and sisters. i have no legal claim on any of them, but i certainly have a moral claim on my brother. it is he who has impoverished the estate, so that, even had i not quarrelled with my father, there could never, after provision had been made for my sisters, have been anything to come to me. "i do not ask you to humiliate yourself, by delivering these letters personally. i would advise you to post them from cairo, enclosing in each a note saying how i fell, and that you are fulfilling my instructions, by sending the letter i wrote before leaving you. it may be that you will receive no reply. in that case, whatever happens to you and the child, you will have nothing to reproach yourself for. possibly my father may have succeeded to the title and, if for no other reason, he may then be willing to grant you an allowance, on condition that you do not return to england; as he would know that it would be nothing short of a scandal, that the wife of one of his sons was trying to earn her bread in this country. "above all, dear, i ask you not to destroy these letters. you may, at first, scorn the idea of appealing for help; but the time might come, as it came to us in london, when you feel that fate is too strong for you, and that you can struggle no longer. then you might regret, for the sake of the child, that you had not sent these letters. "it is a terrible responsibility that i am leaving you. i well know that you will do all, dear, that it is possible for you to do, to avoid the necessity for sending these letters. that i quite approve, if you can struggle on. god strengthen you to do it! it is only if you fail that i say, send them. my father may, by this time, regret that he drove me from home. he may be really anxious to find me, and at least it is right that he should have the opportunity of making what amends he can. from my sisters, i know that you can have little but sympathy; but that, i feel sure, they will give you, and even sympathy is a great deal, to one who has no friends. i feel it sorely that i should have naught to leave you but my name, and this counsel. earnestly i hope and pray that it may never be needed. "yours till death, "gregory hilliard hartley." gregory then opened the letter to his grandfather. "dear father, "you will not receive this letter till after my death. i leave it behind me, while i go up with general hicks to the soudan. it will not be sent to you, unless i die there. i hope that, long ere this, you may have felt, as i have done, that we were both somewhat in the wrong, in the quarrel that separated us. you, i think, were hard. i, no doubt, was hasty. you, i think, assumed more than was your right, in demanding that i should break a promise that i had given, to a lady against whom nothing could be said, save that she was undowered. had i, like geoffrey, been drawing large sums of money from you, you would necessarily have felt yourself in a position to have a very strong voice in so important a matter. but the very moderate allowance i received, while at the university, was never increased. i do not think it is too much to say that, for every penny i have got from you, geoffrey has received a guinea. "however, that is past and gone. i have been fighting my own battle, and was on my way to obtaining a good position. until i did so, i dropped our surname. i did not wish that it should be known that one of our family was working, in an almost menial position, in egypt. i have now obtained the post of interpreter, on the staff of general hicks; and, if he is successful in crushing the rebellion, i shall be certain of good, permanent employment, when i can resume my name. the fact that you receive this letter will be a proof that i have fallen in battle, or by disease. "i now, as a dying prayer, beg you to receive my wife and boy; or, if that cannot be, to grant her some small annuity, to assist her in her struggle with the world. except for her sake, i do not regret my marriage. she has borne the hardships, through which we have passed, nobly and without a murmur. she has been the best of wives to me, and has proved herself a noble woman, in every respect. "i leave the matter in your hands, father, feeling assured that, from your sense of justice alone, if not for the affection you once bore me, you will befriend my wife. as i know that the earl was in feeble health, when i left england; you may, by this time, have come into the title, in which case you will be able, without in any way inconveniencing yourself, to settle an annuity upon my wife, sufficient to keep her in comfort. i can promise, in her name, that in that case you will never be troubled in any way by her; and she will probably take up her residence, permanently, in egypt, as she is not strong, and the warm climate is essential to her." the letter to his brother was shorter. "my dear geoffrey, "i am going up, with general hicks, to the soudan. if you receive this letter, it will be because i have died there. i leave behind me my wife, and a boy. i know that, at present, you are scarcely likely to be able to do much for them, pecuniarily; but as you will someday--possibly not a very distant one--inherit the title and estate, you will then be able to do so, without hurting yourself. "we have never seen much of each other. you left school before i began it, and you left oxford two years before i went up to cambridge. you have never been at home much, since; and i was two years in egypt, and have now been about the same time, here. i charge my wife to send you this, and i trust that, for my sake, you will help her. she does not think of returning to england. life is not expensive, in this country. even an allowance of a hundred a year would enable her to remain here. if you can afford double that, do so for my sake; but, at any rate, i feel that i can rely upon you to do at least that much, when you come into the title. had i lived, i should never have troubled anyone at home; but as i shall be no longer able to earn a living for her and the boy, i trust that you will not think it out of the way for me to ask for what would have been a very small younger brother's allowance, had i remained at home." the letter to his sisters was in a different strain. "my dear flossie and janet, "i am quite sure that you, like myself, felt deeply grieved over our separation; and i can guess that you will have done what you could, with our father, to bring about a reconciliation. when you receive this, dears, i shall have gone. i am about to start on an expedition that is certain to be dangerous, and which may be fatal; and i have left this with my wife, to send you if she has sure news of my death. i have had hard times. i see my way now, and i hope that i shall, ere long, receive a good official appointment, out here. still, it is as well to prepare for the worst; and if you receive this letter, the worst has come. as i have only just begun to rise again in the world, i have been able to make no provision for my wife. i know that you liked her, and that you would by no means have disapproved of the step i took. if our father has not come into the title, when you receive this, your pocket money will be only sufficient for your own wants; therefore i am not asking for help in that way, but only that you will write to her an affectionate letter. she is without friends, and will fight her battle as best she can. she is a woman in a thousand, and worthy of the affection and esteem of any man on earth. "there is a boy, too--another gregory hilliard hartley. she will be alone in the world with him, and a letter from you would be very precious to her. probably, by the same post as you receive this, our father will also get one requesting more substantial assistance, but with that you have nothing to do. i am only asking that you will let her know there are, at least, two people in the world who take an interest in her, and my boy. "your affectionate brother." there was yet another envelope, with no address upon it. it contained two documents. one was a copy of the certificate of marriage, between gregory hilliard hartley and anne forsyth, at saint paul's church, plymouth; with the names of two witnesses, and the signature of the officiating minister. the other was a copy of the register of the birth, at alexandria, of gregory hilliard, son of gregory hilliard hartley and anne, his wife. a third was a copy of the register of baptism of gregory hilliard hartley, the son of gregory hilliard and anne hartley, at the protestant church, alexandria. "i will write, someday, to my aunts," gregory said, as he replaced the letters in the envelopes. "the others will never go. still, i may as well keep them. "so i am either grandson or nephew of an earl. i can't say that i am dazzled by the honour. i should like to know my aunts, but as for the other two, i would not go across the street to make their acquaintance." he carefully stowed the letters away in his portmanteau, and then lay down for a few hours' sleep. "the day is breaking, master," zaki said, laying his hand upon gregory's shoulder. "all right, zaki! while you get the water boiling, i shall run down to the river and have a bathe, and shall be ready for my cocoa, in twenty minutes." "are we going to put on those dervish dresses at once, master? they came yesterday evening." "no; i sha'n't change till we get to the place where we land." as soon as he had breakfasted, he told zaki to carry his portmanteau, bed, and other belongings to the house that served as a store for general hunter's staff. he waited until his return, and then told him to take the two rifles, the packets of ammunition, the spears, and the dervish dresses down to the steamer. then he joined the general, who was just starting, with his staff, to superintend the embarkation. three steamers were going up, and each towed a barge, in which the greater part of the troops was to be stowed, and in the stern of one of these knelt two camels. "there are your nags, mr. hilliard," the general said. "there is an attendant with each. they will manage them better than strangers, and without them we might have a job in getting the animals ashore. of course, i shall take the drivers on with us. the sheik told me the camels are two of the fastest he has ever had. he has sent saddles with them, and water skins. the latter you will probably not want, if all goes well. still, it is better to take them." "i shall assuredly do so, sir. they may be useful to us, on the ride, and though i suppose the camels would do well enough without them, it is always well to be provided, when one goes on an expedition, for any emergency that may occur." an hour later, the steamer started. the river was still full, and the current rapid, and they did not move more than five miles an hour against it. at the villages they passed, the people flocked down to the banks, with cries of welcome and the waving of flags. they felt, now, that their deliverance was accomplished, and that they were free from the tyranny that had, for so many years, oppressed them. the banks were for the most part low; and, save at these villages, the journey was a monotonous one. the steamers kept on their way till nightfall, and then anchored. they started again, at daybreak. at breakfast, general hunter said: "i think that in another two hours we shall be pretty well due west of el fasher, so you had better, presently, get into your dervish dress. you have got some iodine from the doctor, have you not?" "yes." "you had better stain yourself all over, and take a good supply, in case you have to do it again." gregory went below, and had his head shaved by one of the soudanese; then re-stained himself, from head to foot, and put on the dervish attire--loose trousers and a long smock, with six large square patches, arranged in two lines, in front. a white turban and a pair of shoes completed the costume. the officers laughed, as he came on deck again. "you look an out-and-out dervish, hilliard," one of them said. "it is lucky that there are none of the lancers scouting about. they would hardly give you time to explain, especially with that rifle and spear." presently they came to a spot where the water was deep up to the bank, which was some six feet above its level. the barge with the camels was brought up alongside. it had no bulwark, and as the deck was level with the land, the camels were, with a good deal of pressing on the part of their drivers, and pushing by as many soudanese as could come near enough to them, got ashore. none of the soudanese recognized gregory, and looked greatly surprised at the sudden appearance of two dervishes among them. as soon as the camels were landed, gregory and zaki mounted them. "you had better keep, if anything, to the south of east," general hunter's last instructions had been. "unless parsons has been greatly delayed, they should be two or three days' march farther up the river, and every mile you strike the stream, behind him, is so much time lost." he waved his hand to them and wished them farewell, as they started, and his staff shouted their wishes for a safe journey. the black soldiers, seeing that, whoever these dervishes might be, they were well known to the general and his officers, raised a cheer; to which zaki, who had hitherto kept in the background, waved his rifle in reply. as his face was familiar to numbers of the soudanese, they now recognized him, and cheered more heartily than before, laughing like schoolboys at the transformation. chapter : gedareh. "abdul azim was right about the camels," gregory said, as soon as they were fairly off. "i have never ridden on one like this, before. what a difference there is between them and the ordinary camel! it is not only that they go twice as fast, but the motion is so pleasant, and easy." "yes, master, these are riding camels of good breed. they cost twenty times as much as the others. they think nothing of keeping up this rate for twelve hours, without a stop." "if they do that, we shall be near the atbara before it is dark. it is ten o'clock now, and if general hunter's map is right, we have only about eighty miles to go, and i should think they are trotting seven miles an hour." they carried their rifles slung behind them and across the shoulders, rather than upright, as was the arab fashion. the spears were held in their right hands. "we must see if we can't fasten the spears in some other way, zaki. we should find them a nuisance, if we held them in our hands all the way. i should say it would be easy to fasten them across the saddle in front of us. if we see horsemen in the distance, we can take them into our hands." "i think, master, it would be easier to fasten them behind the saddles, where there is more width, and rings on the saddle on both sides." a short halt was made, and the spears fixed. gregory then looked at his compass. "we must make for that rise, two or three miles away. i see exactly the point we must aim for. when we get there, we must look at the compass again." they kept steadily on for six hours. they had seen no human figure, since they started. "we will stop here for half an hour," gregory said. "give the animals a drink of water, and a handful or two of grain." "i don't think they will want water, master. they had as much as they could drink, before starting, and they are accustomed to drink when their work is over." "very well. at any rate, we will take something." they opened one of the water skins, and poured some of the contents into a gourd. then, sitting down in the shadow of the camels, they ate some dates and bread. they had only brought native food with them so that, if captured and examined, there should be nothing to show that they had been in contact with europeans. gregory had even left his revolver behind him as, being armed with so good a weapon as a remington, it was hardly likely that it would be needed; and if found upon them, it would be accepted as a proof that he was in the employment of the infidels. it was dusk when they arrived at the bank of the river. no incident had marked the journey, nor had they seen any sign that dervishes were in the neighbourhood. the atbara was in full flood, and was rushing down at six or seven miles an hour. "colonel parsons must have had great difficulty in crossing, zaki. he is hardly likely to have brought any boats across, from kassala. i don't know whether he has any guns with him, but if he has, i don't think he can have crossed, even if they made rafts enough to carry them." they kept along the bank, until they reached a spot where the river had overflowed. here the camels drank their fill. a little grain was given to them, and then they were turned loose, to browse on the bushes. "there is no fear of their straying, i suppose, zaki?" "no, master. they are always turned loose at night. as there are plenty of bushes here, they will not go far." after another meal, they both lay down to sleep; and, as soon as it was light, zaki fetched in the camels and they continued their journey. in an hour, they arrived at a village. the people were already astir, and looked with evident apprehension at the seeming dervishes. "has a party of infidels passed along here?" gregory asked the village sheik, who came out and salaamed humbly. "yes, my lord, a party of soldiers, with some white officers, came through here three days ago." "how many were there of them?" "there must have been more than a thousand of them." "many more?" "not many; perhaps a hundred more. your servant did not count them." "had they any cannon with them?" "no, my lord. they were all on foot. they all carried guns, but there were no mounted men, or cannon." "where is fadil and his army, that they thus allowed so small a force to march along, unmolested?" "they say that he is still near the nile. two of his scouts were here, the day before the turks came along. they stayed here for some hours, but as they said nothing about the turks coming from kassala, i suppose they did not know they had crossed the river." "well, we must go on, and see where they are. they must be mad to come with so small a force, when they must have known that fadil has a large army. they will never go back again." without further talk, gregory rode farther on. at each village through which they passed, they had some news of the passage of colonel parsons' command. the camels had been resting, from the time when omdurman was taken; and, having been well fed that morning, gregory did not hesitate to press them. the troops would not march above twenty-five miles a day, and two days would take them to mugatta, so that if they halted there but for a day, he should be able to overtake them that night. the character of the country was now greatly changed. the bush was thick and high, and a passage through it would be very difficult for mounted men. there was no fear, therefore, that they would turn off before arriving at mugatta; from which place there would probably be a track, of some sort, to gedareh. it was but a thirty-mile ride and, on arriving near the village, gregory saw that a considerable number of men were assembled there. he checked his camel. "what do you make them out to be, zaki? your eyes are better than mine. they may be colonel parsons' force, and on the other hand they may be dervishes, who have closed in behind him to cut off his retreat." "they are not dervishes, master," zaki said, after a long, steady look. "they have not white turbans. some of their clothes are light, and some dark; but all have dark caps, like those the soudanese troops wear." "that is good enough, zaki. we will turn our robes inside out, so as to hide the patches, as otherwise we might have a hot reception." when they were a quarter of a mile from the village, several men started out from the bushes, rifle in hand. they were all in egyptian uniform. "we are friends!" gregory shouted in arabic. "i am an officer of the khedive, and have come from omdurman, with a message to your commander." a native officer, one of the party, at once saluted. "you will find the bey in the village, bimbashi." "how long have you been here?" "we came in yesterday, and i hear that we shall start tomorrow, but i know not whether that is so." "are there any dervishes about?" "yes; forty of them yesterday afternoon, coming from gedareh, and ignorant that we were here, rode in among our outposts on that hill to the west. three of them were killed, and three made prisoners. the rest rode away." with a word of thanks, gregory rode on. he dismounted when he reached the village, and was directed to a neighbouring hut. here colonel parsons and the six white officers with him were assembled. a native soldier was on sentry, at the door. "i want to speak to parsons bey." the colonel, hearing the words, came to the door. "colonel parsons," gregory said in english, "i am major hilliard of the egyptian army, and have the honour to be the bearer of a message to you, from general rundle, now in command at omdurman." "you are well disguised, indeed, sir," the colonel said with a smile, as he held out his hand. "i should never have taken you for anything but a native. where did you spring from? you can never have ridden, much less walked, across the desert from omdurman?" "no, sir. i was landed from one of the gunboats in which general hunter, with fifteen hundred soudanese troops, is ascending the blue nile, to prevent fadil from crossing and joining the khalifa." "have you a written despatch?" "it was thought better that i should carry nothing, so that even the strictest search would not show that i was a messenger." "is your message of a private character?" "no, sir, i think not." "then will you come in?" gregory followed colonel parsons into the hut, which contained but one room. "gentlemen," the former said with a smile, "allow me to introduce bimbashi hilliard, who is the bearer of a message to me from general rundle, now in command at omdurman. "major hilliard, these are captain mackerrel, commanding four hundred and fifty men of the th egyptians; captain wilkinson, an equal number of the arab battalion; major lawson, who has under his command three hundred and seventy arab irregulars; captain the honorable h. ruthven, who has under him eighty camel men; also captain fleming of the royal army medical corps, who is at once our medical officer, and in command of the baggage column; and captain dwyer. they are all, like yourself, officers in the egyptian army; and rank, like yourself, as bimbashis. "now, sir, will you deliver your message to me?" "it is of a somewhat grave character, sir, but general rundle thought it very important that you should be acquainted with the last news. the sirdar has gone up the white nile, with some of the gunboats and the th soudanese. he deemed it necessary to go himself, because a body of foreign troops--believed to be french--have established themselves at fashoda." an exclamation of surprise broke from all the officers. "in the next place, sir, fadil, who had arrived with his force within forty miles of khartoum, has retired up the banks of the blue nile, on hearing of the defeat of the khalifa. major general hunter has therefore gone up that river, with three gunboats and another soudanese battalion, to prevent him, if possible, from crossing it and joining the khalifa, who is reported to be collecting the remains of his defeated army. "it is possible--indeed the general thinks it is probable--that fadil, if unable to cross, may return with his army to gedareh. it is to warn you of this possibility that he sent me here. gedareh is reported to be a defensible position, and therefore he thinks that, if you capture it, it would be advisable to maintain yourself there until reinforcements can be sent to you, either from the blue nile or the atbara. the place, it seems, is well supplied with provisions and stores; and in the event of fadil opposing you, it would be far safer for you to defend it than to be attacked in the open, or during a retreat." "it is certainly important news, mr. hilliard. hitherto we have supposed that fadil had joined the khalifa before the fight at omdurman, and there was therefore no fear of his reappearing here. we know very little of the force at gedareh. we took some prisoners yesterday, but their accounts are very conflicting. still, there is every reason to believe that the garrison is not strong. certainly, as general rundle says, we should be in a much better position there than if we were attacked in the open. no doubt the arabs who got off in the skirmish, yesterday, carried the news there; and probably some of them would go direct to fadil, and if he came down upon us here, with his eight thousand men, our position would be a desperate one. it cost us four days to cross the river at el fasher, and would take us as much to build boats and recross here; and before that time, he might be upon us. "it is evident, gentlemen, that we have only the choice of these alternatives--either to march, at once, against gedareh; or to retreat immediately, crossing the river here, or at el fasher. as to remaining here, of course, it is out of the question." the consultation was a short one. all the officers were in favour of pushing forward, pointing out that, as only the th egyptians could be considered as fairly disciplined, the troops would lose heart if they retired; and could not be relied upon to keep steady, if attacked by a largely superior force; while, at present, they would probably fight bravely. the arab battalion had been raised by the italians, and were at present full of confidence, as they had defeated the mahdists who had been besieging kassala. the arab irregulars had, of course, the fighting instincts of their race, and would assault an enemy bravely; but in a defensive battle, against greatly superior numbers, could scarcely be expected to stand well. as for the eighty camel men, they were all soudanese soldiers, discharged from the army for old age and physical unfitness. they could be relied upon to fight but, small in number as they were, could but have little effect on the issue of a battle. all therefore agreed that, having come thus far, the safest, as well as the most honourable course, would be to endeavour to fight the enemy in a strong position. although it may be said that success justified it, no wilder enterprise was ever undertaken than that of sending thirteen hundred only partly disciplined men into the heart of the enemy's country. omdurman and atbara, to say nothing of previous campaigns, had shown how desperately the dervishes fought; and the order, for the garrison of kassala to undertake it, can only have been given under an entire misconception of the circumstances, and of the strength of the army under fadil, that they would almost certainly be called upon to encounter. this was the more probable, as all the women and the property of his soldiers had been left at gedareh, when he marched away; and his men would, therefore, naturally wish to go there, before they made any endeavour to join the khalifa. such, indeed, was the fact. fadil concealed from them the news of the disaster at omdurman, for some days; and, when it became known, he had difficulty in restraining his troops from marching straight for gedareh. "do you go on with us, mr. hilliard?" colonel parsons asked, when they had decided to start for gedareh. "yes, sir. my instructions are to go on with you and, if the town is besieged, to endeavour to get through their lines, and carry the news to general hunter, if i can ascertain his whereabouts. if not, to make straight for omdurman. i have two fast camels, which i shall leave here, and return for them with my black boy, when we start." "we shall be glad to have you with us," the colonel said. "every white officer is worth a couple of hundred men." as they sat and chatted, gregory asked how the force had crossed the atbara. "it was a big job," colonel parsons said. "the river was wider than the thames, below london bridge; and running something like seven miles an hour. we brought with us some barrels to construct a raft. when this was built, it supported the ten men who started on it; but they were, in spite of their efforts, carried ten miles down the stream, and it was not until five hours after they embarked that they managed to land. the raft did not get back from its journey till the next afternoon, being towed along the opposite bank by the men. "it was evident that this would not do. the egyptian soldiers then took the matter in hand. they made frameworks with the wood of the mimosa scrub, and covered these with tarpaulins, which we had fortunately brought with us. they turned out one boat a day, capable of carrying two tons; and, six days after we reached the river, we all got across. "the delay was a terrible nuisance at the time, but it has enabled you to come up here and warn us about fadil. fortunately no dervishes came along while we were crossing, and indeed we learned, from the prisoners we took yesterday, that the fact that a force from kassala had crossed the river was entirely unknown, so no harm was done." the sheik of the little village took charge of gregory's camels. some stores were also left there, under a small guard, as it was advisable to reduce the transport to the smallest possible amount. the next morning the start was made. the bush was so thick that it was necessary to march in single file. in the evening, the force halted in a comparatively open country. the camel men reconnoitred the ground, for some little distance round, and saw no signs of the enemy. they camped, however, in the form of a square; and lay with their arms beside them, in readiness to resist an attack. the night passed quietly, and at early dawn they moved forward again. at six o'clock the camel men exchanged a few shots with the dervish scouts, who fell back at once. at eight a village was sighted, and the force advanced upon it, in fighting order. it was found, however, to have been deserted, except by a few old people. these, on being questioned, said that the emir saadalla, who commanded, had but two hundred rifles and six hundred spearmen, and had received orders from fadil to surrender. subsequent events showed that they had been carefully tutored as to the reply to be given. the force halted here, as gedareh was still twelve miles away; and it was thought better that, if there was fighting, they should be fresh. at midnight, a deserter from the dervishes came in, with the grave news that the emir had three thousand five hundred men, and was awaiting them two miles outside the town. there was another informal council of war, but all agreed that a retreat, through this difficult country, would bring about the total annihilation of the force; and that there was nothing to do but to fight. early in the morning, they started again. for the first two hours, the road led through grass so high that even the men on camels could not see above it. they pushed on till eight o'clock, when they reached a small knoll. at the foot of this they halted, and colonel parsons and the officers ascended it, to reconnoitre. they saw, at once, that the deserter's news was true. a mile away four lines of dervishes, marching in excellent order, were making their way towards them. colonel parsons considered that their numbers could not be less than four thousand, and at once decided to occupy a saddle-back hill, half a mile away; and the troops were hurried across. the dervishes also quickened their movements, but were too late to prevent the hill from being seized. the arab battalion had been leading, followed by the egyptians; while the irregulars, divided into two bodies under arab chiefs, guarded the hospital and baggage. the dervishes at once advanced to the attack of the hill, and the column wheeled into line, to meet it. even on the crest of the hill, the grass was breast high, but it did not impede the view of the advancing lines of the dervishes. into these a heavy and destructive fire was at once poured. the enemy, however, pushed on, firing in return; but being somewhat out of breath, from the rapidity with which they had marched; and seeing nothing of the defenders of the hill, save their heads, they inflicted far less loss than they were themselves suffering. the fight was continuing, when colonel parsons saw that a force of about three hundred dervishes had worked round the back of the hill, with the intention of falling upon the baggage. he at once sent one of the arab sheiks to warn captain fleming; who, from his position, was unable to see the approaching foe. colonel parsons had asked gregory to take up his position with the baggage, as he foresaw that, with their vastly greater numbers, it was likely that the dervishes might sweep round and attack it. scarcely had the messenger arrived with the news, when the dervishes came rushing on through the high grass. in spite of the shouts of doctor fleming and gregory, the escort of one hundred and twenty irregular arabs, stationed at this point, at once broke and fled. happily, a portion of the camel corps, with its commander, captain ruthven, a militia officer, was close at hand. though he had but thirty-four of these old soldiers with him, he rushed forward to meet the enemy. doctor fleming and gregory joined him and, all cheering to encourage the soudanese, made a determined stand. gregory and zaki kept up a steady fire with their remingtons, and picked off several of the most determined of their assailants. the fight, however, was too unequal; the dervishes got in behind them, and cut off the rear portion of the transport; and the little band, fighting obstinately, fell back, with their faces to the foe, towards the main body. one of the native officers of the soudanese fell. captain ruthven, a very powerful man, ran back and lifted the wounded soldier, and made his way towards his friends. so closely pressed was he, by the dervishes, that three times he had to lay his burden down and defend himself with his revolver; while gregory and zaki aided his retreat, by turning their fire upon his assailants. for this splendid act of bravery, captain ruthven afterwards received the victoria cross. flushed by their success, the dervishes pushed on. fortunately, at this time the main force of the dervishes was beginning to waver, unable to withstand the steady fire of the defenders of the hill; and as they drew back a little, the egyptian and arab battalions rushed forward. shaken as they were, the dervishes were unable to resist the attack; and broke and fled, pursued by the arab battalion. the egyptians, however, obeyed the orders of captain mackerrel and, halting, faced about to encounter the attack from the rear. their volleys caused the dervishes to hesitate, and captain ruthven and his party reached the summit of the hill in safety. the enemy, however, maintained a heavy fire for a few minutes; but the volleys of the egyptians, at a distance of only a hundred yards, were so deadly that they soon took to flight. the first shot had been fired at half-past eight. at ten, the whole dervish force was scattered in headlong rout. had colonel parsons possessed a cavalry force, the enemy would have been completely cut up. as it was, pursuit was out of the question. the force therefore advanced, in good order, to gedareh. here a dervish emir, who had been left in charge when the rest of the garrison moved out, surrendered at once, with the two hundred black riflemen under him. he had long been suspected of disloyalty by the khalifa, and at once declared his hatred of mahdism; declaring that, though he had not dared to declare himself openly, he had always been friendly to egyptian rule. the men with him at once fraternized with the arabs of colonel parsons' force, and were formally received into their ranks. the emir showed his sincerity by giving them all the information in his power, as to fadil's position and movements, and by pointing out the most defensible positions. none of the british officers had been wounded, but fifty-one of the men had been killed, and eighty wounded. five hundred of the dervishes were left dead upon the field, including four emirs. not a moment was lost in preparing for defence, for it was certain that fadil, on hearing the news, would at once march to retake the town. the position was naturally a strong one. standing on rising ground was fadil's house, surrounded by a brick wall, twelve feet high. here the egyptian battalion and camel corps were placed, with the hospital, and two brass guns which had been found there. a hundred yards away was another enclosure, with a five-foot wall, and two hundred yards away a smaller one. the arab battalion was stationed to the rear of this, in a square enclosure with a brick wall, twelve feet high, in which was situated a well. these four buildings were so placed, that the fire from each covered the approaches to the other. two hundred yards from the well enclosure was a fortified house, surrounded by a high wall. as the latter would need too many men for its defence, the wall was pulled down, and a detachment placed in the house. no time was lost. the whole force was at once employed in pulling down huts, clearing the ground of the high grass, and forming a zareba round the town. the greatest cause for anxiety was ammunition. a large proportion of that carried in the pouches had been expended during the battle, and the next morning colonel parsons, with a small force, hurried back to mugatta to fetch up the reserve ammunition, which had been left there under a guard. he returned with it, three days later. an abundant supply of provisions had been found in gedareh, for here were the magazines, not only of the four thousand men of the garrison and the women who had been left there, but sufficient for fadil's army, on their return. there were three or four wells, and a good supply of water. the ammunition arrived just in time; for, on the following morning, captain ruthven's camel men brought in news that fadil was close at hand. at half-past eight the dervishes began the attack, on three sides of the defences. sheltered by the long grass, they were able to make their way to within three hundred yards of the dwellings occupied by the troops. but the intervening ground had all been cleared, and though time after time they made rushes forward, they were unable to withstand the withering fire to which they were exposed. after an hour's vain efforts their musketry fire ceased; but, half an hour later, strong reinforcements came up, and the attack recommenced. this was accompanied with no greater success than the first attack, and fadil retired to a palm grove, two miles away. of the defenders five men were killed, and captain dwyer and thirteen men wounded. for two days, fadil endeavoured to persuade his troops to make another attack; but although they surrounded the town, and maintained a scattered fire, they could not be brought to attempt another assault, having lost over five hundred men in the two attacks the first day. he then fell back, eight miles. three days later, colonel parsons said to gregory: "i think the time has come, mr. hilliard, when i must apply for reinforcements. i am convinced that we can repel all attacks, but we are virtually prisoners here. were we to endeavour to retreat, fadil would probably annihilate us. our men have behaved admirably; but it is one thing to fight well, when you are advancing; and another to be firm in retreat. "but our most serious enemy, at present, is fever. already, the stink of the unburied bodies of the dervishes is overpowering, and every day it will become worse. doctor fleming reports to me that he has a great many sick on his hands, and that he fears the conditions that surround us will bring about an epidemic. therefore i have decided to send to general rundle, for a reinforcement that will enable us to move out to attack fadil." "very well, sir, i will start at once." "i will write my despatch. it will be ready for you to carry in an hour's time. you had better pick out a couple of good donkeys, from those we captured here. as it is only nine o'clock, you will be able to get to mugatta this evening. i don't think there is any fear of your being interfered with, by the dervishes. we may be sure that fadil is not allowing his men to roam over the country, for there can be little doubt that a good many of them would desert, as soon as they got fairly beyond his camp." "i don't think there is any fear of that, sir; and as my camels will have had ten days' rest, i should have very little fear of being overtaken, even if they did sight us." "we are off again, zaki," gregory said. "we will go down to the yard where the animals we captured are kept, and choose a couple of good donkeys. i am to carry a despatch to omdurman, and as time is precious, we will make a straight line across the desert; it will save us fifty or sixty miles." "i am glad to be gone, master. the smells here are as bad as they were at omdurman, when we went in there." "yes, i am very glad to be off, too." an hour later they started, and arrived at mugatta at eight o'clock in the evening. the native with whom the camels had been left had taken good care of them; and, after rewarding him and taking a meal, gregory determined to start at once. the stars were bright, and there was quite light enough for the camels to travel. the water was emptied from the skins, and filled again. they had brought with them sufficient food for four days' travel, and a sack of grain for the camels. an hour after arriving at the village they again started. "we will follow the river bank, till we get past the country where the bushes are so thick, and then strike west by north. i saw, by colonel parsons' map, that that is about the line we should take." they left the river before they reached el fasher, and continued their journey all night, and onward till the sun was well up. then they watered the camels (they had, this time, brought with them a large half gourd for the purpose), ate a good meal themselves; and, after placing two piles of grain before the camels, lay down and slept until five o'clock in the afternoon. "we ought to be opposite omdurman, tomorrow morning. i expect we shall strike the river, tonight. i have kept our course rather to the west of the direct line, on purpose. it would be very awkward if we were to miss it. i believe the compass is right, and i have struck a match every hour to look at it; but a very slight deviation would make a big difference, at the end of a hundred and fifty miles." it was just midnight when they saw the river before them. "we can't go wrong now, zaki." "that is a comfort. how many miles are we above its junction with the white nile?" "i don't know." they rode steadily on, and day was just breaking when he exclaimed: "there are some buildings opposite. that must be khartoum. we shall be opposite omdurman in another hour." soon after six o'clock, they rode down to the river bank opposite the town; and, in answer to their signals, a large native boat was rowed across to them. after some trouble the camels were got on board, and in a quarter of an hour they landed. "take the camels up to my house, zaki. i must go and report myself, at headquarters." general rundle had not yet gone out, and on gregory sending in his name, he was at once admitted. "so you are back, mr. hilliard!" the general said. "i am heartily glad to see you, for it was a very hazardous mission that you undertook. what news have you?" "this is colonel parsons' report." before reading the long report, the general said, "tell me, in a few words, what happened." "i overtook colonel parsons at mugatta, on the third morning after leaving. we were attacked by nearly four thousand dervishes, five miles from gedareh. after a sharp fight they were defeated, and we occupied the town without resistance. four days later, fadil came up with his army and attacked the town; but was driven off, with a loss of five hundred men. he is now eight miles from the town. the place is unhealthy and, although it can be defended, colonel parsons has asked for reinforcements, to enable him to attack fadil." "that is good news, indeed. we have all been extremely anxious, for there was no doubt that colonel parsons' force was wholly inadequate for the purpose. how long is it since you left?" "about forty-six hours, sir." "indeed! that seems almost impossible, mr. hilliard." "we started at eleven o'clock in the morning, sir, and rode on donkeys to mugatta, where i had left my camels; arrived there at eight, and started an hour later on the camels. we rode till nine o'clock the next day, halted till five, and have just arrived here. the camels were excellent beasts, and travelled a good six miles an hour. i did not press them, as i knew that, if we arrived opposite the town at night, we should have difficulty in getting across the river." "it was a great ride, a great achievement! you must be hungry, as well as tired. i will tell my man to get you some breakfast, at once. you can eat it, while i read this despatch. then i may have a few questions to ask you. after that, you had better turn in till evening." gregory enjoyed his breakfast, with the luxuries of tinned fruit, after his rough fare for the past fortnight. when he went to the general's room again, the latter said: "colonel parsons' despatches are very full, and i think i quite understand the situation. no praise is too high for the conduct of his officers and troops. all seemed to have behaved equally well, and he mentions the gallant part you took in the defence of the baggage, with captain ruthven and the doctor, and only some thirty-four soldiers of the camel corps. "now, i will not detain you longer. i hope you will dine with me this evening. i should like to hear more of the affair." returning to his hut, gregory found that zaki had already got his bed, and other things, from the store; and he was just about to boil the kettle. "i have breakfasted, zaki. here is a dollar. go to one of those big shops, and buy anything you like, and have a good meal. then you had better take the camels across to azim's camp. i shall not want you then, till evening." no time was lost. three battalions and a half of soudanese were sent up the blue nile, in steamers, and the garrisons stationed at several points on the river were also taken on board. three companies of camel corps marched along the bank, and arrived at abu haraz, a hundred and thirty miles up the river, in fifty-six hours after starting. five hundred baggage camels were also sent up. as the distance from gedareh to this point was a hundred miles, and as water was only to be found at one point, it was necessary to carry up a supply for the troops. colonel collinson, who was in command, pushed forward at once with the th soudanese and the camel corps. when fadil heard of their approach, he made a night attack on gedareh. this, however, was easily repulsed by the garrison. he then broke up his camp and marched away, intending to cross the blue nile, and join the khalifa. his troops were greatly demoralized by their failures, and in spite of the precautions he took, the darfur sheik, with five hundred of his men, succeeded in effecting his escape; and at once joined us, actively, in the further operations against fadil. as there was no further danger, the soudanese marched back again and joined the other battalions, the garrisons on the river were re-established, and part of the force returned to omdurman. the sirdar had returned from fashoda before gregory came back, and had left almost immediately for cairo. on the day after gregory's return, he had a sharp attack of fever; the result partly of the evil smells at gedareh, heightened by the fact that the present was the fever season, in the blue nile country. chapter : the crowning victory. it was eight weeks before he recovered, and even then the doctor said that he was not fit for any exertion. he learned that on the nd of october, colonel lewis, with two companies of the camel corps and three squadrons of lancers, had started from omdurman to visit the various villages between the white and blue niles; to restore order, and proclaim that the authority of the khedive was established there. on the th of november, following the blue nile up, he reached karkoj, but a short distance below the point at which the navigation of the river ceased. he had come in contact with a portion of fadil's force, but nothing could be done, in the thick undergrowth in which the latter was lurking; and he therefore remained, waiting for the next move on the part of the dervish commander, while the gunboats patrolled the blue river up to rosaires. six weeks passed. his force, and all the garrisons on the river, suffered severely from heat, thirty percent of the troops being down together. the cavalry had suffered particularly heavily. of the four hundred and sixty men, ten had died and four hundred and twenty were reported unfit for duty, a month after their arrival at karkoj; while of the thirty white officers on the blue nile, only two escaped an attack of fever. at the end of the month, colonel lewis was joined by the darfur sheik and three hundred and fifty of his men. he had had many skirmishes with dervish parties, scouring the country for food, and his arrival was very welcome. gregory was recommended to take a river trip, to recover his health; and left on a steamer going up with stores, and some small reinforcements, to colonel lewis. they arrived at karkoj on the th of december, and learned that the little garrison at rosaires had been attacked by the dervishes. the fifty fever-stricken men who formed the garrison would have had no chance of resisting the attack, but fortunately they had, that very morning, been reinforced by two hundred men of the th soudanese, and two maxims; and the dervishes were repulsed, with considerable loss. two companies of the same battalion had reinforced colonel lewis, who marched, on the day after receiving the news, to rosaires. the gunboat went up to that point, and remained there for some days. gregory went ashore, as soon as the boat arrived, and saw colonel lewis, to whom he was well known. "i am supposed to be on sick leave, sir; but i feel quite strong now, and shall be glad to join you, if you will have me." "i can have no possible objection, mr. hilliard. i know that you did good service with colonel parsons, and it is quite possible that we shall find ourselves in as tight a place as he was. so many of our white officers have been sent down, with fever, that i am very short-handed, and shall be glad if you will temporarily serve as my assistant." on the th, the news came that fadil was crossing the river at dakhila, twenty miles farther to the south. he himself had crossed, and the women and children had been taken over on a raft. on the nd, the darfur sheik was sent off up the west bank, to harass the dervishes who had already crossed. on the th two gunboats arrived, with two hundred more men of the th soudanese, and a small detachment of the th. on the following day the little force started, at five in the afternoon; and, at eleven at night, halted at a little village. at three in the morning they again advanced, and at eight o'clock came in contact with the dervish outposts. colonel lewis had already learned that, instead of half the dervish force having crossed, only one division had done so, and that he had by far the greater part of fadil's army opposed to him. it was a serious matter to attack some four or five thousand men, with so small a force at his disposal; for he had but half the th soudanese, a handful of the th, and two maxim guns. as to the darfur irregulars, no great reliance could be placed upon them. as the force issued from the wood through which they had been marching, they saw the river in front of them. in its midst rose a large island, a mile and a quarter long, and more than three-quarters of a mile wide. there were clumps of sand hills upon it. they had learned that the intervening stream was rapid, but not deep; while that on the other side of the island was very deep, with a precipitous bank. it was upon this island that fadil's force was established. the position was a strong one--the sand hills rose from an almost flat plain, a thousand yards away; and this would have to be crossed by the assailants, without any shelter whatever. the dervishes were bound to fight their hardest, as there was no possibility of escape, if defeated. at nine o'clock the soudanese and irregulars lined the bank and opened fire, while the two maxims came into action. the dervishes replied briskly, and it was soon evident that, at so long a range, they could not be driven from their position. several fords were found, and the irregulars, supported by a company of the th, crossed the river, and took up a position two hundred yards in advance, to cover the passage of the rest. these crossed with some difficulty, for the water was three and a half feet deep, and the current very strong; and they were, moreover, exposed to the fire of fadil's riflemen, from the high cliff on the opposite bank. colonel lewis, determined to turn the left flank of the dervishes, kept along the river's edge until he reached the required position; then wheeled the battalion into line, and advanced across the bare shingle against the sand hills. major ferguson, with one company, was detached to attack a knoll on the right, held by two hundred dervishes. the remaining four companies, under colonel mason, kept straight on towards the main position. a very heavy fire was concentrated upon them, not only from the sand hills, but from fadil's riflemen. the soudanese fell fast, but held on, increasing their pace to a run; until they reached the foot of the first sandhill, where they lay down in shelter to take breath. a quarter of the force had already fallen, and their doctor, captain jennings, remained out in the open, binding up their wounds, although exposed to a continuous fire. this halt was mistaken by the dervishes, who thought that the courage of the soudanese was exhausted; and fadil, from the opposite bank, sounded the charge on drum and bugle; and the whole dervish force, with banners waving and exultant shouts, poured down to annihilate their assailants. but the soudanese, led by colonels lewis and mason, who were accompanied by gregory, leapt to their feet, ran up the low bank behind which they were sheltering, and opened a terrible fire. the dervishes were already close at hand, and every shot told among them. astonished at so unlooked-for a reception, and doubtless remembering the heavy loss they had suffered at gedareh, they speedily broke. like dogs slipped from their leash, the black troops dashed on with triumphant shouts, driving the dervishes from sandhill to sandhill, until the latter reached the southern end of the island. here the soudanese were joined by the irregulars who had first crossed, and a terrible fire was maintained, from the sand hills, upon the crowded mass on the bare sand, cut off from all retreat by the deep river. some tried to swim across, to join their friends on the west bank. a few succeeded in doing so, among them the emir who had given battle to colonel parsons' force, near gedareh. many took refuge from the fire by standing in the river, up to their necks. some four hundred succeeded in escaping, by a ford, to a small island lower down; but they found no cover there, and after suffering heavily from the musketry fire, the survivors, three hundred strong, surrendered. major ferguson's company, however, was still exposed to a heavy fire, turned upon them by the force on the other side of the river. he himself was severely wounded, and a third of his men hit. the maxims were accordingly carried over the river to the island, and placed so as to command the west bank, which they soon cleared of the riflemen. over five hundred arabs lay dead on the two islands. two thousand one hundred and seventy-five fighting men surrendered, and several hundred women and children. fadil, with the force that had escaped, crossed the desert to rung, on the white nile, where on the nd of january they surrendered to the english gunboats; their leader, with ten or twelve of his followers only, escaping to join the khalifa. our casualties were heavy. twenty-five non-commissioned officers and men were killed; one british officer, six native officers, and one hundred and seventeen non-commissioned officers and men wounded of the th soudanese, out of a total strength of five hundred and eleven. the remaining casualties were among the irregulars. never was there a better proof of the gallantry of the black regiments of egypt; for, including the commander and medical officer, there were but five british officers, and two british sergeants, to direct and lead them. after the battle of rosaires, there was a lull in the fighting on the east of the white nile. the whole country had been cleared of the dervishes, and it was now time for the sirdar, who had just returned from england, to turn his attention to the khalifa. the latter was known to be near el obeid, where he had now collected a force, of whose strength very different reports were received. gregory, whose exertions in the fight, and the march through the scrub from karkoj, had brought on a slight return of fever, went down in the gunboat, with the wounded, to omdurman. zaki was with him, but as a patient. he had been hit through the leg, while charging forward with the soudanese. at omdurman, gregory fell into regular work again. so many of the officers of the egyptian battalions had fallen in battle, or were down with fever, that colonel wingate took him as his assistant, and his time was now spent in listening to the stories of tribesmen; who, as soon as the khalifa's force had passed, had brought in very varying accounts of his strength. then there were villagers who had complaints to make of robbery, of ill usage--for this the arab irregulars, who had been disbanded after the capture of omdurman, were largely responsible. besides these, there were many petitions by fugitives, who had returned to find their houses occupied, and their land seized by others. gregory was constantly sent off to investigate and decide in these disputes, and was sometimes away for a week at a time. zaki had recovered rapidly and, as soon as he was able to rise, accompanied his master; who obtained valuable assistance from him as, while gregory was hearing the stories of witnesses, zaki went quietly about the villages, talking to the old men and women, and frequently obtained evidence that showed that many of the witnesses were perjured; and so enabled his master to give decisions which astonished the people by their justness. indeed, the reports of the extraordinary manner in which he seemed able to pick out truth from falsehood, and to decide in favour of the rightful claimant, spread so rapidly from village to village, that claimants who came in to colonel wingate often requested, urgently, that the young bimbashi should be sent out to investigate the matter. "you seem to be attaining the position of a modern solomon, hilliard," the colonel said one day, with a smile. "how do you do it?" gregory laughed, and told him the manner in which he got at the truth. "an excellent plan," he said, "and one which it would be well to adopt, generally, by sending men beforehand to a village. the only objection is, that you could not rely much more upon the reports of your spies than on those of the villagers. the chances are that the claimant who could bid highest would receive their support." matters were quiet until the sirdar returned from england, and determined to make an attempt to capture the khalifa, whose force was reported not to exceed one thousand men. two squadrons of egyptian cavalry and a soudanese brigade, two maxims, two mule guns, and a company of camel corps were placed under the command of colonel kitchener. the great difficulty was the lack of water along the route to be traversed. camels were brought from the atbara and the blue nile; and the whole were collected at kawa, on the white nile. they started from that point, but the wells were found to be dry; and the force had to retrace its steps, and to start afresh from koli, some forty miles farther up the river. they endured great hardships, for everything was left behind save the clothes the men and officers stood in, and one hundred rounds of ammunition each; only one pint of water being allowed per head. the country was a desert, covered with interlacing thorn bushes. an eight days' march brought the force to a village which was considered sacred, as it contained the grave of the khalifa's father, and the house where the khalifa himself had been born. three days later they reached the abandoned camp of the khalifa, a wide tract that had been cleared of bush. a great multitude of dwellings, constructed of spear grass, stretched away for miles; and at the very lowest compilation it had contained twenty thousand people, of which it was calculated that from eight thousand to ten thousand must have been fighting men, ten times as many as had before been reported to be with the khalifa. a reconnaissance showed that a large army was waiting to give battle, on a hill which was of great strength, surrounded by deep ravines and pools of water. the position was an anxious one. the total force was about fourteen hundred strong, and a defeat would mean annihilation; while even a victory would scarcely secure the capture of the khalifa; who, with his principal emirs, osman digna, el khatim the sheik of el obeid, the sheik ed din, and fadil, would be able to gallop off if they saw the battle going against them. colonel kitchener had the wisdom to decide against risking the destruction of his followers by an assault against so great a force, posted in so strong a position. it was a deep mortification to him to have to retreat, and the soldiers were bitterly disappointed; but their commander felt that, brave as the egyptians and soudanese had shown themselves, the odds against victory were too great. after a terrible march, and great sufferings from thirst and scanty food, the force reached koli on the th of february, and were conveyed in steamers down to omdurman. after this somewhat unfortunate affair, which naturally added to the prestige of the khalifa, the months passed uneventfully; but, late in october, preparations were made for an attack upon a large scale against the khalifa's camp, and eight thousand men were concentrated at karla, on the white nile. it was known that the khalifa was at gedir, eighty miles away; but after proceeding half the distance, it was found that he had marched away, and the column returned, as pursuit through a densely-wooded country would have been impracticable. the gunboats had gone up the river with a flying column, under colonel lewis, to check any of the khalifa's forces that attempted to establish themselves on the banks. mounted troops and transport were at once concentrated, and colonel wingate was sent up to take command. the force consisted of a brigade of infantry, under colonel lewis, with the th and th soudanese, an irregular soudanese battalion, a company of the nd egyptians, six companies of camel corps, a squadron of cavalry, a field battery, six maxims, and detachments of medical and supply departments, with a camel transport train to carry rations and three days' water--in all, three thousand seven hundred men. on the afternoon of the st of november, the column moved forward and, favoured by a bright moonlight, made a march of fifteen miles; the cavalry scouting two miles in front, the flanks and rear being covered by the camel corps. native reports had brought in information that fadil, who had been raiding the country, was now in the neighbourhood, on his way to rejoin the main dervish army, which was lying near gadi. the cavalry pushed forward at dawn, and found that fadil had retreated, leaving a quantity of grain behind. a sick dervish who had remained there said that the dervishes had moved to a point seven miles away. the cavalry, camel corps, and some of the guns advanced, and seized a position within three hundred yards of the dervish encampment, on which they immediately opened fire. the rest of the guns were at once pushed forward, to reinforce them, and arrived in time to assist them in repulsing a fierce attack of the dervishes. owing to the nature of the ground, these were able to approach to within sixty yards of the guns, before coming under their fire. they were then mowed down by the guns and maxims, and the musketry fire of the camel corps; to which was added that of the infantry brigade, when they arrived. this was too much even for dervish valour to withstand, and they fled back to their camp. the british force then advanced. they met with but little opposition and, as they entered the camp, they saw the enemy in full flight. the infantry followed them for a mile and a half, while the cavalry and camel corps kept up the pursuit for five miles. fadil's camp, containing a large amount of grain and other stores, fell into the hands of the captors; with a number of prisoners, including women and children, and animals. four hundred dervishes had fallen, great numbers had been wounded, while the british casualties amounted to a native officer of the camel corps dangerously wounded, one man killed, and three wounded. gregory had accompanied colonel wingate, and acted as one of his staff officers. he had, of course, brought his horse with him. it was an excellent animal, and had been used by him in all his excursions from omdurman. "that is rather a different affair from the fight on the atbara, zaki," he said, when the force gathered in fadil's camp, after the pursuit was relinquished; "the dervishes fought just as bravely, but in one case they had a strong position to defend, while today they took the offensive. it makes all the difference." "i am glad to have seen some fighting again, master, for it has been dull work stopping ten months in omdurman, with nothing to do but ride about the country, and decide upon the villagers' quarrels." "it has been useful work, zaki, and i consider myself very fortunate in being so constantly employed. i was desperately afraid that colonel wingate would leave me there, and i was greatly relieved when he told me that i was to come with him. it is a fortunate thing that we have beaten our old enemy, fadil, here. in the first place because, if the three or four thousand men he had with him had joined the khalifa, it would have given us harder work in tomorrow's fight; and in the next place his arrival, with his followers who have escaped, at the khalifa's camp, is not likely to inspirit the dervishes there." gregory was occupied, all the afternoon, in examining the prisoners. they affirmed that they had left the former camp, three days before, with the intention of proceeding to gedid; where fadil was to join the khalifa with captured grain, when the whole dervish force was to march north. the troops slept during the afternoon, and in the evening set out for gedid, which they reached at ten o'clock the next morning. a dervish deserter reported that the khalifa was encamped seven miles to the southeast. fortunately, a pool with sufficient water for the whole force was found at gedid; which was a matter of great importance, for otherwise the expedition must have fallen back. it was hoped that the khalifa would now stand at bay, as our occupation of gedid barred his advance north. behind him was a waterless, and densely wooded district. the capture of the grain on which he had relied would render it impossible for him to remain long in his present position, and his only chance of extricating himself was to stand and fight. after twelve hours' rest the troops were roused, and started a few minutes after midnight. the transport was left, under a strong guard, near the water; with orders to follow, four hours later. the cavalry, with two maxims, moved in advance; and the camel corps on the flanks. the ground was thickly wooded. in many places, a way had to be cut for the guns. at three o'clock news was received, from the cavalry, that the enemy's camp was but three miles distant from the point which the infantry had reached; and that they and the maxims had halted two miles ahead, at the foot of some slightly rising ground; beyond which the scouts had, on the previous day, discovered the main force of the enemy to be stationed. the infantry continued to advance, slowly and cautiously, making as little noise as possible. it was soon evident, however, that in spite of their caution, the enemy were aware of their approach, as there was an outburst of the beating of drums, and the blowing of war horns. this did not last long, but it was enough to show that the dervishes were not to be taken by surprise. when the infantry reached the spot where the cavalry were halted, the latter's scouts were withdrawn and the infantry pickets thrown out, and the troops then lay down to await daybreak. the officers chatted together in low tones. there were but two hours till dawn, and with the prospect of heavy fighting before them, none were inclined to sleep. the question was whether the dervishes would defend their camp, or attack. the result of the battle of omdurman should have taught them that it was impossible to come to close quarters, in the face of the terrible fire of our rifles. fadil could give his experience at gedareh, which would teach the same lesson. on the other hand, the storming of the dervish camp on the atbara, and the fight at rosaires, would both seem to show them that the assault of the egyptian force was irresistible. as gregory had been present at all four of these battles, he was asked to give his opinion. "i think that they will attack," he said. "the dervish leaders rely upon the enthusiasm of their followers; and, in almost all the battles we have fought here, they have rushed forward to the assault. it was so in all the fights down by the red sea. it was so in the attacks on lord wolseley's desert column. it succeeded against hicks's and baker's forces; and even now they do not seem to have recognized that the egyptians, whom they once despised, have quite got over their dread of them, and are able to face them steadily." there was only the faintest light in the sky, when firing broke out in front. everyone leapt to his feet, and stood listening intently. was it merely some dervish scouts, who had come in contact with our pickets, or was it an attacking force? the firing increased in volume, and was evidently approaching. the pickets, then, were being driven in, and the dervishes were going to attack. the men were ordered to lie down, in the position in which they were to fight. in five minutes after the first shot all were ready for action, the pickets had run in; and, in the dim light, numbers of dark figures could be made out. the guns and maxims at once spoke out, while the infantry fired volleys. it was still too dark to make out the movements of the enemy, but their reply to our fire came louder and louder on our left, and it was apparent that the intention of the dervishes was to turn that flank of our position. colonel wingate sent gregory, to order the guns to turn their fire more in that direction; and other officers ordered our right to advance somewhat, while the left were slightly thrown back, and pushed farther out. the light was now getting brighter, and heavy bodies of dervishes, shouting and firing, rushed forward; but they were mown down by grape from our guns, a storm of maxim bullets, and the steady volleys of the infantry. they wavered for a moment, and then gradually fell back. the bugles sounded the advance and, with a cheer, our whole line moved forward down the gentle slope; quickening their pace as the enemy retired before them, and still keeping up a heavy fire towards the clump of trees that concealed the dervish camp from sight. the enemy's fire had now died out. at twenty-five minutes past six the "cease fire" was sounded and, as the troops advanced, it was evident that resistance was at an end. as they issued through the trees, many dervishes ran forward and surrendered, and thousands of women and children were found in the camp. happily, none of these had been injured, as a slight swell in the ground had prevented our bullets from falling among them. numbers of dervishes who had passed through now turned and surrendered, and the cavalry and camel corps started in pursuit. gregory had learned, from the women, that the emir el khatim, with a number of his trained men from el obeid, had passed through the camp in good order, but that none of the other emirs had been seen; and the th soudanese stated that, as they advanced, they had come upon a number of chiefs lying together, a few hundred yards in advance of our first position. one of the arab sheiks of the irregulars was sent to examine the spot, and reported that the khalifa himself, and almost all his great emirs, lay there dead. with the khalifa were ali wad, helu, fadil, two of his brothers, the mahdi's son, and many other leaders. behind them lay their dead horses, and one of the men still alive said that the khalifa, having failed in his attempt to advance over the crest, had endeavoured to turn our position; but, seeing his followers crushed by our fire and retiring, and after making an ineffectual attempt to rally them, he recognized that the day was lost; and, calling on his emirs to dismount, seated himself on his sheepskin, as is the custom of arab chiefs who disdain to surrender. the emirs seated themselves round him, and all met their death unflinchingly, the greater part being mowed down by the volleys fired by our troops, as they advanced. gregory went up to colonel wingate. "i beg your pardon, sir, but i find that khatim, and probably his son, who were so kind to my father at el obeid, have retired with a fighting force. have i your permission to ride forward, and call upon them to surrender?" "certainly, mr. hilliard, there has been bloodshed enough." being well mounted, gregory overtook the cavalry and camel corps, before they had gone two miles; as they were delayed by disarming the dervishes, who were coming in in large numbers. half a mile away, a small body of men were to be seen keeping together, firing occasionally. their leader's flag was flying, and gregory learned, from a native, that it was khatim's. the cavalry were on the point of gathering for a charge, as he rode up to the officer in command. "i have colonel wingate's orders, sir, to ride forward and try to persuade the emir to surrender. he does not wish any further loss of life." "very well, sir. i am sure we have killed enough of the poor beggars. i hope he will give in." as gregory neared the party, which was some five hundred strong, several shots were fired at him. he waved a white handkerchief, and the firing ceased. two emirs rode forward to meet him. "i have come, sir, from the english general, to ask you to surrender. your cause is lost. the khalifa is dead, and most of his principal emirs. he is anxious that there should be no further loss of blood." "we can die, sir, as the others have done," the elder emir, a man of some sixty years old, said sternly. "but that would not avail your cause, sir. i solicited this mission, as i owe much to you." "how can that be?" the chief asked. "i am the son of that white man whom you so kindly treated, at el obeid, where he saved the life of your son abu;" and he bowed to the younger emir. "then he escaped?" the latter exclaimed. "no, sir. he was killed at hebbeh, when the steamer in which he was going down from khartoum was wrecked there; but i found his journal, in which he told the story of your kindness to him. i can assure you that you shall be well treated, if you surrender; and those of your men who wish to do so will be allowed to return to el obeid. i feel sure that when i tell our general how kindly you acted, to the sole white officer who escaped from the battle, you and your son will be treated with the greatest consideration." "i owe more to your father than he did to me," abu exclaimed. "he saved my life, and did many great services to us. "what say you, father? i am ready to die if you will it; but as the khalifa is dead, and the cause of mahdism lost, i see no reason, and assuredly no disgrace, in submitting to the will of allah." "so be it," khatim said. "i have never thought of surrendering to the turks, but as it is the will of allah, i will do so." he turned to his men. "it is useless to fight further," he said. "the khalifa is dead. it were better to return to your wives and families than to throw away your lives. lay down your arms. none will be injured." it was with evident satisfaction that the arabs laid musket and spear on the ground. they would have fought to the death, had he ordered them, for they greatly loved their old chief; but as it was his order, they gladly complied with it, as they saw that they had no chance of resisting the array of cavalry and camel corps, gathered less than half a mile away. "if you will ride back with me," gregory said to the emir, "i will present you to the general. the men had better follow. i will ride forward, and tell the officer commanding the cavalry that you have surrendered, and that the men approaching are unarmed." he cantered back to the cavalry. "they have all surrendered, sir," he said. "they have laid down their arms at the place where they stood, and are going back to camp, to surrender to colonel wingate." "i am glad of it. my orders are to push on another three miles. on our return the camel corps shall collect the arms, and bring them in." gregory rode back to the emirs, who were slowly crossing the plain, but who halted as the cavalry dashed on. "now, emirs," he said, "we can ride quietly back to camp." "you have not taken our arms," khatim said. "no, emir, it is not for me to ask for them. it is the general to whom you surrender, not me." "i mourn to hear of the death of your father," abu said, as they rode in. "he was a good man, and a skilful hakim." "he speaks always in the highest terms of you, emir, in his journal, and tells how he performed that operation on your left arm, which was necessary to save your life; but did so with great doubt, fearing that, never having performed one before, he might fail to save your life." "i have often wondered what became of him," abu said. "i believed that he had got safely into khartoum, and i enquired about him when we entered. when i found that he was not among the killed, i trusted that he might have escaped. i grieve much to hear that he was killed while on his way down." "such was the will of allah," khatim said. "he preserved him at the battle, he preserved him in the town, he enabled him to reach khartoum; but it was not his will that he should return to his countrymen. i say, with abu, that he was a good man; and while he remained with us, was ever ready to use his skill for our benefit. it was allah's will that his son should, after all these years, come to us; for assuredly, if any other white officer had asked us to surrender, i would have refused." "many strange things happen by the will of god," gregory said. "it was wonderful that, sixteen years after his death, i should find my father's journal at hebbeh, and learn the story of his escape after the battle, and of his stay with you at el obeid." gregory rode into camp between the two emirs. he paused for a minute, and handed over their followers to the officer in charge of the prisoners; and then went to the hut formerly occupied by the khalifa, where colonel wingate had now established himself. colonel wingate came to the entrance. "these are el khatim and his son abu, sir. they surrendered on learning that i was the son of the british officer whom they had protected, and sheltered, for a year after the battle of el obeid." the two emirs had withdrawn their swords and pistols from their sashes; and, advancing, offered them to the colonel. the latter did not offer to receive them. "keep them," he said. "we can honour brave foes; and you and your followers were ready to fight and die, when all seemed lost. still more do i refuse to receive the weapons of the men who defended an english officer, when he was helpless and a fugitive; such an act would, alone, ensure good treatment at our hands. your followers have surrendered?" "they have all laid down their arms," khatim said. "do you give me your promise that you will no more fight against us?" "we do," khatim replied. "we have received our weapons back from you, and would assuredly not use them against our conquerors." "in that case, emir, you and your son are at liberty to depart, and your men can return with you. there will, i trust, be no more fighting in the land. the mahdi is dead. his successor proved a false prophet and is dead also. mahdism is at an end, and now our object will be to restore peace and prosperity to the land. "in a short time, all the prisoners will be released. those who choose will be allowed to enter our service. the rest can return to their homes. we bear no enmity against them. they fought under the orders of their chiefs, and fought bravely and well. when they return, i hope they will settle down and cultivate the land; and undo, as far as may be, the injuries they have inflicted upon it. "i will write an order, mr. hilliard, to release at once the men you have brought in. then i will ask you to ride, with these emirs, to a point where there will be no fear of their falling in with our cavalry." "you are a generous enemy," khatim said, "and we thank you. we give in our allegiance to the egyptian government, and henceforth regard ourselves as its servants." "see, mr. hilliard, that the party takes sufficient food with it for their journey to el obeid." colonel wingate stepped forward, and shook hands with the two emirs. "you are no longer enemies," he said, "and i know that, henceforth, i shall be able to rely upon your loyalty." "we are beaten," khatim said, as they walked away, each leading his horse. "you can fight like men, and we who thought ourselves brave have been driven before you, like dust before the wind. and now, when you are masters, you can forgive as we should never have done. you can treat us as friends. you do not even take our arms, and we can ride into el obeid with our heads high." "it will be good for the soudan," abu said. "your father told me, often, how peace and prosperity would return, were you ever to become our masters; and i felt that his words were true. two hours ago i regretted that allah had not let me die, so that i should not have lived to see our people conquered. now, i am glad. i believe all that he said, and that the soudan will some day become, again, a happy country." khatim's men were separated from the rest of the prisoners. six days' supply of grain, from the stores found in the camp, were handed over to them; together with ten camels with water skins, and they started at once on their long march. gregory rode out for a couple of miles with them, and then took leave of the two emirs. "come to el obeid," khatim said, "and you shall be treated as a king. farewell! and may allah preserve you!" so they parted; and gregory rode back to the camp, with a feeling of much happiness that he had been enabled, in some way, to repay the kindness shown to his dead father. chapter : an unexpected discovery. the victory had been a decisive one, indeed. three thousand prisoners, great quantities of rifles, swords, grain, and cattle had been captured; together with six thousand women and children. a thousand dervishes had been killed or wounded. all the most important emirs had been killed, and the sheik ed din, the khalifa's eldest son and intended successor, was, with twenty-nine other emirs, among the prisoners. our total loss was four men killed, and two officers and twenty-seven men wounded in the action. "i am much obliged to you, mr. hilliard," colonel wingate said to him, that evening, "for the valuable services you have rendered, and shall have the pleasure of including your name among the officers who have specially distinguished themselves. as it was mentioned by general rundle and colonel parsons--by the former for undertaking the hazardous service of carrying despatches to the latter, and by colonel parsons for gallant conduct in the field--you ought to be sure of promotion, when matters are arranged here." "thank you very much, sir! may i ask a favour? "you know the outline of my story. i have learned, by the papers i obtained at hebbeh, and others which i was charged not to open until i had certain proof of my father's death, that the name under which he was known was an assumed one. he had had a quarrel with his family; and as, when he came out to egypt, he for a time took a subordinate position, he dropped a portion of his name, intending to resume it when he had done something that even his family could not consider was any discredit to it. i was myself unaware of the fact until, on returning to omdurman from hebbeh, i opened those papers. i continued to bear the name by which i am known, but as you are good enough to say that you will mention me in despatches, i feel that i can now say that my real name is gregory hilliard hartley." "i quite appreciate your motives in adhering to your former name, mr. hartley; and in mentioning your services under your new name, i will add a note saying that your name mentioned in former despatches, for distinguished services, had been erroneously given as gregory hilliard only." "thank you very much, sir!" that evening, when several of the officers were gathered in colonel wingate's hut, the latter said, when one of them addressed gregory as hilliard: "that is not his full name, colonel hickman. for various family reasons, with which he has acquainted me, he has borne it hitherto; but he will, in future, be known by his entire name, which is gregory hilliard hartley. i may say that the reasons he has given me for not having hitherto used the family name are, in my opinion, amply sufficient; involving, as they do, no discredit to himself; or his father, a brave gentleman who escaped from the massacre of hicks's force at el obeid; and finally died, with colonel stewart, at hebbeh." "i seem to know the name," colonel lewis said. "gregory hilliard hartley! i have certainly either heard or seen it, somewhere. may i ask if your father bore the same christian names?" "yes, sir." "i have it now!" colonel lewis exclaimed, a minute or two later. "i have seen it in an advertisement. ever since i was a boy, that name has occasionally been advertised for. every two or three months, it appeared in the times. i can see it plainly, now. "'five hundred pounds reward will be given for any information concerning the present abode, or death, of gregory hilliard hartley; or the whereabouts of his issue, if any. he left england about the year . it is supposed that he went to the united states, or to one of the british colonies. apply to messieurs tufton and sons, solicitors, lincoln's inn fields.' "do you know when your father left england?" "he certainly left about that time. i am nineteen now, and i know that i was born a few weeks after he came out to alexandria." "then there ought to be something good in store for you," colonel wingate said. "people don't offer a reward of five hundred pounds, unless something important hangs to it. of course, there may be another of the same name, but it is hardly likely that anyone would bear the two same christian names, as well as surname. is it indiscreet to ask you if you know anything about your father's family?" "not at all, sir. now that i have taken his name, i need have no hesitation in relating what i know of him. previous to his leaving england, he married without his father's consent; and, failing to make a living in england, he accepted a situation in alexandria; which he gained, i may say, because he was an excellent arabic scholar, as he had spent two years in exploring tombs and monuments in egypt. he was the second son of the honourable james hartley; who was brother, and i believe heir, of the marquis of langdale, and i should think by this time has succeeded to the title. at his death, my father's eldest brother would, of course, succeed him." "then, my dear fellow," colonel mahon said, giving him a hearty slap on the shoulder, "allow me to congratulate you. i can tell you that the title has been in abeyance, for the past fourteen years. everyone knows the facts. your grandfather died before the marquis. your uncle succeeded him, lived only three years and, being unmarried, your father became the next earl; and has been advertised for, in vain, ever since. as, unhappily, your father is dead also, you are unquestionably the marquis of langdale." gregory looked round with a bewildered air. the news was so absolutely unexpected that he could hardly take it in. "it seems impossible," he said at last. "it is not only impossible, but a fact," the colonel said. "there is nothing very surprising in it. there were only two lives between your father and the peerage; and as one was that of an old man, the second of a man certainly in the prime of life, but unmarried, why, the jews would have lent money on the chance. "i fancy your uncle was a somewhat extravagant man. i remember he kept a lot of race horses and so on, but he could not have dipped very seriously into the property. at any rate, there will be fourteen years' accumulations, which will put matters straight. "i hope you have got papers that will prove you are your father's son, and that he was brother of the late earl." "i think there can be no difficulty about that," gregory said. "i have letters from both my parents, a copy of their marriage certificate, and of the registers of my birth and baptism. there are some persons in cairo who knew my father, and a good many who knew my mother." "then i should say that it would be quite safe sailing. "i don't know, lewis, whether you are not entitled to that five hundred pounds." "i am afraid not," the other laughed. "mr. hartley; or rather, i should say, the earl; would have discovered it, himself. i only recognized the name, which plenty of people would have done, as soon as they saw it in despatches." "it will be a great disappointment to someone," gregory said; "if they have been, for fourteen years, expecting to come in for this." "you need not fret about that," another officer said. "the next heir is a distant cousin. he has been trying, over and over again, to get himself acknowledged; but the courts would not hear of it, and told him that it was no use applying, until they had proof of the death of your father. i know all about it, because there was a howling young ass in the regiment from which i exchanged. he was always giving himself airs, on the strength of the title he expected to get; and if he is still in the regiment, there will be general rejoicings at his downfall." "then i have met him," gregory said. "on the way up, he made himself very unpleasant, and i heard from the other officers that he was extremely unpopular. the major spoke very sharply to him, for the offensive tone in which he addressed me; and an officer sitting next to me said that he was terribly puffed, by his expectations of obtaining a title shortly, owing to the disappearance of those who stood before him in succession. some of the officers chaffed him about it, then. i remember now that his name was hartley; but as i had no idea, at that time, that that was also mine, i never thought anything more about it, until now. as he was the only officer who has been in any way offensive to me, since i left cairo nearly three years ago, certainly i would rather that he should be the sufferer, if i succeed in proving my right to the title, than anyone else." "i don't think he will suffer, except in pride," the officer said. "his father, who was a very distant cousin of the earl's, had gone into trade and made a considerable fortune; so that the young fellow was a great deal better off than the vast majority of men in the army. it was the airs he gave himself, on the strength of being able to indulge in an expenditure such as no one else in the regiment could attempt--by keeping three or four race horses in training, and other follies--that had more to do with his unpopularity, than his constant talk about the peerage he was so confident of getting." "of course you will go home to england, at once," colonel wingate said. "the war is over now, and it would be rank folly for you to stay here. you have got the address of the lawyers who advertised for you; and have only to go straight to them, with your proofs in your hand, and they will take all the necessary steps. "i should say that it would facilitate matters if, as you go through cairo, you were to obtain statements or affidavits from some of the people who knew your mother; stating that you are, as you claim to be, her son; and that she was the wife of the gentleman known as gregory hilliard, who went up as an interpreter with hicks. i don't say that this would be necessary at all, for the letters you have would, in themselves, go far to prove your case. still, the more proofs you accumulate, the less likely there is of any opposition being offered to your claim. any papers or letters of your mother might contain something that would strengthen the case. "it is really a pity, you know, when you have done so well out here, and would be certain to rise to a high post under the administration of the province; (which will be taken in hand, in earnest, now), that you should have to give it all up." "i scarcely know whether to be pleased or sorry, myself, sir. at present, i can hardly take in the change that this will make, or appreciate its advantages." "you will appreciate them, soon enough," one of the others laughed. "as long as this war has been going on, one could put up with the heat, and the dust, and the horrible thirst one gets, and the absence of anything decent to drink; but now that it is all over, the idea of settling down here, permanently, would be horrible; except to men--and there are such fellows--who are never happy, unless they are at work; to whom work is everything--meat, and drink, and pleasure. it would have to be everything, out here; for no one could ever think of marrying, and bringing a wife, to such a country as this. women can hardly live in parts of india, but the worst station in india would be a paradise, in comparison with the soudan; though possibly, in time, khartoum will be rebuilt and, being situated between two rivers, might become a possible place--which is more than any other station in the soudan can be--for ladies." "i am not old enough to take those matters into consideration," gregory laughed. "i am not twenty, yet. still, i do think that anyone permanently stationed, in the soudan, would have to make up his mind to remain a bachelor." the next morning, the greater portion of the prisoners were allowed to return to their homes. all the grain and other stores, found in the camp, were divided among the women, who were advised to return to their native villages; but those who had lost their husbands were told that they might accompany the force to the river, and would be taken down to omdurman, and given assistance for a time, until they could find some means of obtaining a subsistence. on returning to khartoum, colonel wingate, at gregory's request, told lord kitchener of the discovery that had been made; and said that he wished to return to england, at once. the next day, the sirdar sent for gregory. "colonel wingate has been speaking to me about you," he said, "and i congratulate you on your good fortune. in one respect, i am sorry; for you have done so surprisingly well, that i had intended to appoint you to a responsible position in the soudan civil service, which is now being formed. colonel wingate says that you naturally wish to resign your present post, but i should advise you not to do so. the operation of the law in england is very uncertain. i trust that, in your case, you will meet with but small difficulty in proving your birth; but there may be some hitch in the matter, some missing link. "i will, therefore, grant you six months' leave of absence. at the end of that time, you will see how you stand. if things have gone on well with you, you can then send in your resignation. if, on the other hand, you find yourself unable to prove your claim, it will still be open to you to return here, and continue the career in which you have begun so well." "i am greatly obliged to you, sir, for your kindness; and should i fail in proving my claim, i shall gladly avail myself of your offer, at the end of the six months." "now, zaki," he said, on returning to the hut, of which he had again taken possession, "we must have one more talk. i have told you about the possible change in my position, and that i was shortly leaving for england. you begged me to take you with me, and i told you that if you decided to go, i would do so. i shall be put in orders, tomorrow, for six months' leave. if i succeed in proving my claim to a title, which is what you would call here an emirship, i shall not return. if i fail, i shall be back again, in six months. now, i want you to think it over seriously, before you decide. "everything will be different there from what you are accustomed to. you will have to dress differently, live differently, and be among strangers. it is very cold there, in winter; and it is never what you would call hot, in summer. "it is not that i should not like to have you with me; we have been together, now, for three years. you saved my life at atbara, and have always been faithfully devoted to me. it is for your sake, not my own, that i now speak." "i will go with you, master, if you will take me. i hope never to leave you, till i die." "very well, zaki, i am more than willing to take you. if i remain in england, you shall always be with me, if you choose to remain. but i shall then be able to give you a sum that will enable you to buy much land, and to hire men to work your sakies, to till your land, and to make you what you would call a rich man here, should you wish to return at the end of the six months. if i return, you will, of course, come back with me." on the following day, after having said goodbye to all his friends, disposed of his horse and belongings, and drawn the arrears of his pay, gregory took his place in the train; for the railway had now been carried to khartoum. four days later, he arrived at cairo. his first step was to order european clothes for zaki, and a warm and heavily-lined greatcoat; for it was now the first week in december, and although delightful at cairo, it would be, to the native, bitterly cold in england. then he went to the bank, and mr. murray, on hearing the story, made an affidavit at the british resident's; affirming that he had, for fifteen years, known mrs. gregory hilliard, and was aware that she was the widow of mr. gregory hilliard, who joined hicks pasha; and that mr. gregory hilliard, now claiming to be mr. gregory hilliard hartley, was her son. mr. gregory hilliard, senior, had kept an account at the bank for eighteen months; and had, on leaving, given instructions for mrs. hilliard's cheques to be honoured. mrs. hilliard had received a pension from the egyptian government, up to the date of her death, as his widow; he having fallen in the service of the khedive. gregory looked up his old nurse, whom he found comfortable and happy. she also made an affidavit, to the effect that she had entered the service of mrs. hilliard more than eighteen years before, as nurse to gregory hilliard, then a child of a year old. she had been in her service until her death, and she could testify that gregory hilliard hartley was the child she had nursed. after a stay of four days at cairo, gregory started for england. even he, who had heard of london from his mother, was astonished at its noise, extent, and bustle; while zaki was almost stupefied. he took two rooms at cannon street hotel, for himself and servant, and next morning went to the offices of messieurs tufton and sons, the solicitors. he sent in his name as mr. gregory hilliard hartley. even in the outer office, he heard an exclamation of surprise, as the piece of paper on which he had written his name was read. he was at once shown in. mr. tufton looked at him, with a little surprise. "i am the son of the gentleman for whom, i understand, you have advertised for a long time." "if you can prove that you are so, sir," mr. tufton said, wearily, "you are the marquis of langdale--that is to say, if your father is deceased. "may i ask, to begin with, how it is that the advertisement has, for so many years, remained unanswered?" "that is easily accounted for, sir. my father, being unable to obtain a situation in england, accepted a very minor appointment in the house of messieurs partridge and company, at alexandria. this he obtained owing to his knowledge of arabic. he had been engaged, as you doubtless know, for two years in explorations there. he did not wish it to be known that he had been obliged to accept such a position, so he dropped his surname, and went out as gregory hilliard. as the firm's establishment at alexandria was burned, during the insurrection there, he went to cairo and obtained an appointment as interpreter to general hicks. he escaped when the army of that officer was destroyed, at el obeid; was a prisoner, for many months, at that town; and then escaped to khartoum. he came down in the steamer with colonel stewart. that steamer was wrecked at hebbeh, and all on board, with one exception, were massacred. "my mother always retained some hope that he might have escaped, from his knowledge of arabic. she received a small pension from the egyptian government, for the loss of my father, and added to this by teaching in the families of several turkish functionaries. three years ago she died, and i obtained, through the kindness of lord kitchener, an appointment as interpreter in the egyptian army. i was present at the fights of abu hamed, the atbara, omdurman, and the late victory by colonel wingate. my name, as gregory hilliard, was mentioned in despatches; and will be mentioned, again, in that sent by colonel wingate, but this time with the addition of hartley. "it was only accidentally, on the night after that battle, that i learned that my father was the heir to the marquis of langdale, and i thereupon obtained six months' leave, to come here." "it is a singular story," the lawyer said, "and if supported by proofs, there can be no question that you are the marquis, for whom we have been advertising, for many years." "i think that i have ample proof, sir. here is the certificate of my father's marriage, and the copies of the registers of my birth and baptism. here is the journal of my father, from the time he was taken prisoner till his death. here are his letter to my mother, and letters to his father, brother, and sisters, which were to be forwarded by her should she choose to return to england. here are two affidavits--the one from a gentleman who has known me from childhood, the other from the woman who nursed me, and who remained with our family till i reached the soudan. here also is a letter that i found among my mother's papers, written from khartoum, in which my father speaks of resuming the name of hartley, if things went well there." "then, sir," mr. tufton said, "i think i can congratulate you upon obtaining the title; but at the same time, i will ask you to leave these papers with me, for an hour. i will put everything else aside, and go through them. you understand, i am not doubting your word; but of course, it is necessary to ascertain the exact purport of these letters, and documents. if they are as you say, the evidence in favour of your claim would be overwhelming. "of course, it is necessary that we should be most cautious. we have, for upwards of a hundred years, been solicitors to the family; and as such have contested all applications, from the junior branch of the family, that the title should be declared vacant by the death of the last marquis, who would be your uncle. we have been the more anxious to do so, as we understand the next claimant is a young man of extravagant habits, and in no way worthy to succeed to the title." "i will return in an hour and a half, sir," gregory said, rising. "i may say that the contents of this pocketbook, although intensely interesting to myself, as a record of my father, do not bear upon the title. they are a simple record of his life, from the time when the army of hicks pasha was destroyed, to the date of his own murder at hebbeh. the last entry was made before he landed. i mention this, as it may save you time in going through the papers." gregory went out, and spent the time in watching the wonderful flow of traffic, and gazing into the shops; and when he returned to the office, he was at once shown in. mr. tufton rose, and shook him warmly by the hand. "i consider these documents to be absolutely conclusive, my lord," he said. "the letters to your grandfather, uncle, and aunts are conclusive as to his identity; and that of your mother, strengthened by the two affidavits, is equally conclusive as to your being his son. i will take the necessary measures to lay these papers before the court, which has several times had the matter in hand, and to obtain a declaration that you have indisputably proved yourself to be the son of the late gregory hilliard hartley, and therefore entitled to the title and estates, with all accumulations, of the marquis of langdale." "thank you very much, sir! i will leave the matter entirely in your hands. can you tell me the address of my aunts? as you will have seen, by my father's letter, he believed implicitly in their affection for him." "their address is, the manor house, wimperton, tavistock, devon. they retired there at the accession of their brother to the title. it has been used as a dower house in the family for many years; and, pending the search for your father, i obtained permission for them to continue to reside there. i was not obliged to ask for an allowance for them, as they had an income, under their mother's marriage settlement, sufficient for them to live there in comfort. "i will not give you the letter addressed to them, as i wish to show the original in court; but i will have a copy made for you, at once, and i will attest it. "now, may i ask how you are situated, with regard to money? i have sufficient confidence in the justice of your claim to advance any sum, for your immediate wants." "thank you, sir! i am in no need of any advance. my mother's savings amounted to five hundred pounds, of which i only drew fifty to buy my outfit, when i went up to the soudan. my pay sufficed for my wants there, and i drew out the remaining four hundred and fifty pounds when i left cairo; so i am amply provided." gregory remained four days in london, obtaining suitable clothes. then, attended by zaki, he took his place in the great western for tavistock. zaki had already picked up a good deal of english, and gregory talked to him only in that language, on their way down from the battlefield; so that he could now express himself in simple phrases. mr. tufton had on the previous day written, at gregory's request, to his aunts; saying that the son of their brother had called upon him, and given him proofs, which he considered incontestable, of his identity and of the death of his father. he was the bearer of a letter from his father to them, and proposed delivering it the next day, in person. he agreed with gregory that it was advisable to send down this letter, as otherwise the ladies might doubt whether he was really what he claimed to be, as his father's letter might very well have come into the hands of a third person. he went down by the night mail to tavistock, put up at an hotel; and, after breakfast, drove over to the manor house, and sent in a card which he had had printed in town. he was shown into a room where the two ladies were waiting for him. they had been some four or five years younger than his father, a fact of which he was not aware; and instead of being elderly women, as he expected, he found, by their appearance, they were scarcely entering middle age. they were evidently much agitated. "i have come down without waiting for an invitation," he said. "i was anxious to deliver my father's letter to you, or at least a copy of it, as soon as possible. it was written before his death, some eighteen years ago, and was intended for my mother to give to you, should she return to england. its interest to you consists chiefly in the proof of my father's affection for you, and that he felt he could rely on yours for him. i may say that this is a copy, signed as correct by mr. tufton. he could not give me the original, as it would be required as an evidence of my father's identity, in the application he is about to make for me to be declared heir to the title." "then gregory has been dead eighteen years!" the elder of the ladies said. "we have always hoped that he would be alive, in one of the colonies, and that sooner or later he would see the advertisement that had been put in the papers." "no, madam. he went out to alexandria with my mother, shortly before i was born. he died some three or four years before his brother. it was seldom my mother saw an english paper. unfortunately, as it turned out, my father had dropped his surname when he accepted a situation, which was a subordinate one, at alexandria; and his reason for taking it was that my mother was in weak health, and the doctor said it was necessary she should go to a warm climate; therefore, had any of her friends seen the advertisement, they would not have known that it applied to her. i, myself, did not know that my proper name was hartley until a year back, when i discovered my father's journal at hebbeh, the place where he was murdered; and then opened the documents that my mother had entrusted to me, before her death, with an injunction not to open them until i had ascertained, for certain, that my father was no longer alive." one of the ladies took the letter, and opened it. they read it together. "poor gregory!" one said, wiping her eyes, "we were both fond of him, and certainly would have done all in our power to assist his widow. he was nearer our age than geoffrey. it was a terrible grief to us, when he quarrelled with our father. of course our sympathies were with gregory, but we never ventured to say so; and our father never mentioned his name, from the day he left the house. why did not your mother send his letter to us?" "because she did not need assistance. she was maintaining herself and me in comfort by teaching music, french, and english to the wives and children of several of the high egyptian officials." "how long is it since you lost her?" "more than three years ago. at her death, i was fortunate enough to obtain an appointment similar to that my father had, and at the same time a commission in the egyptian service; and have been fortunate in being, two or three times, mentioned in despatches." "yes; curiously enough, after receiving mr. tufton's letter, we saw colonel wingate's despatch in the paper, in which your name is mentioned. we should have been astonished, indeed, had we not opened the letter before we looked at the paper. "well, gregory, we are very glad to see you, and to find that you have done honour to the name. the despatch said that you have been previously mentioned, under the name of gregory hilliard. we always file our papers, and we spent an hour after breakfast in going through them. i suppose you threw up your appointment, as soon as you discovered that geoffrey died, years ago, and that you had come into the title?" "i should have thrown it up, but lord kitchener was good enough to give me six months' leave; so that, if i should fail to prove my right to the title, i could return there and take up my work again. he was so kind as to say that i should be given a responsible position, in the civil administration of the soudan." "well, we both feel very proud of you; and it does sound wonderful that, being under twenty, you should have got on so well, without friends or influence. i hope you intend to stay with us, until you have to go up to london about these affairs." "i shall be very happy to stay a few days, aunt; but it is better that i should be on the spot, as there may be questions that have to be answered, and signatures, and all sorts of things. "i have brought my arab servant down with me. he has been with me for three years, and is most faithful and devoted; and moreover, he once saved my life, at tremendous risk to himself." "oh, of course we can put him up! can he speak english?" "he speaks a little english, and is improving fast." "does he dress as a native?" "no, aunt. he would soon freeze to death, in his native garb. as soon as i got down to cairo with him, i put him into good european clothes. he is a fine specimen of a soudan arab, but when he came to me he was somewhat weakly; however, he soon got over that." "where is he, now?" "he is with the trap, outside. i told him that he had better not come in until i had seen you, for i thought that your domestics would not know what to do with him, till they had your orders." "you brought your portmanteau with you, i hope?" "i have brought it, but not knowing whether it would be wanted; for i did not know whether you would take sufficiently to me, to ask me to stay." "the idea of such a thing! you must have had a bad opinion of us." "no, aunt. i had the best of opinions. i am sure that my father would not have written as he did to you, unless he had been very fond of you. still, as at present i am not proved to be your nephew, i thought that you might not be disposed to ask me to stay. "now, with your permission, i will go and tell zaki--that is the man's name--to bring in my portmanteau. i can then send the trap back." "do you know, gregory," one of his aunts said that evening; "even putting aside the fact that you are our nephew, we are delighted that the title and estates are not to go to the next heir. he came down here about a year ago. his regiment had just returned from the soudan. he drove straight to the hall, and requested to be shown over it, saying that in a short time he was going to take possession. the housekeeper came across here, quite in distress, and said that he talked as if he were already master; said he should make alterations in one place, enlarge the drawing room, build a conservatory against it, do away with some of the pictures on the walls; and, in fact, he made himself very objectionable. he came on here, and behaved in a most offensive and ungentlemanly way. he actually enquired of us whether we were tenants by right, or merely on sufferance. i told him that, if he wanted to know, he had better enquire of mr. tufton; and flossie, who is more outspoken than i am, said at once that whether we were tenants for life, or not, we should certainly not continue to reside here, if so objectionable a person were master at the hall. he was very angry, but i cut him short by saying: "'this is our house at present, sir; and, unless you leave it at once, i shall call the gardener in and order him to eject you.'" "i am not surprised at what you say, aunt, for i met the fellow myself, on the way up to omdurman; and found him an offensive cad. it has been a great satisfaction to me to know that he was so; for if he had been a nice fellow, i could not have helped being sorry to deprive him of the title and estates which he has, for years, considered to be his." after remaining four days at the manor house, gregory went back to town. a notice had already been served, upon the former claimant to the title, that an application would be made to the court to hear the claim of gregory hilliard hartley, nephew of the late marquis, to be acknowledged as his successor to the title and estates; and that if he wished to appear by counsel, he could do so. the matter was not heard of, for another three months. lieutenant hartley was in court, and was represented by a queen's counsel of eminence; who, however, when gregory's narrative had been told, and the various documents put in, at once stated that after the evidence he had heard, he felt that it would be vain to contest the case at this point; but that he reserved the right of appealing, should anything come to light which would alter the complexion of the affair. the judgment was that gregory hilliard hartley had proved himself to be the son of the late gregory hilliard hartley, brother of and heir to the late marquis of langdale, and was therefore seized of the title and estates. as soon as the case was decided, gregory went down again to devonshire, and asked his aunts to take charge for him. this they at first said was impossible; but he urged that, if they refused to do so, he should be driven to go back to the soudan again. "my dear aunts," he said, "what in the world am i to do? i know no one. i know nothing of english customs, or society. i should, indeed, be the most forlorn person in existence, with a large country estate and a mansion in london. i want someone to introduce me into society, and set me on my legs; manage me and my house, and preside at my table. i am not yet twenty, and have not as much knowledge of english ways as a boy of ten. i should be taken in and duped in every way, and be at the mercy of every adventurer. i feel that it would be a sacrifice for you to leave your pretty home here, but i am sure, for the sake of my father, you will not refuse to do so." his aunts admitted that there was great justice in what he said, and finally submitted to his request to preside over his house; until, as they said, the time came when he would introduce a younger mistress. zaki, when his six months' trial was over, scorned the idea of returning to the soudan; declaring that, if gregory would not keep him, he would rather beg in the streets than go back there. "it is all wonderful here," he said; "we poor arabs could not dream of such things. no, master, as long as you live, i shall stay here." "very well, zaki, so be it; and i can promise you that if i die before you, you will be so provided for that you will be able to live in as much comfort as you now enjoy, and in addition you will be your own master." zaki shook his head. "i should be a fool to wish to be my own master," he said, "after having such a good one, at present." gregory is learning the duties of a large land owner, and is already very popular in his part of devonshire. the mansion in london has not yet been reopened, as gregory says he must learn his lessons perfectly, before he ventures to take his place in society. team of charles franks in the heart of africa by sir samuel w. baker, m.a., f.r.g.s. condensed by e.j.w from "the nile tributaries of abyssinia" and "the albert n'yanza great basin of the nile." contents. chapter i. the nubian desert--the bitter well--change of plans--an irascible dragoman--pools of the atbara--one secret of the nile--at cassala chapter ii. egypt's rule of the soudan--corn-grinding in the soudan--mahomet meets relatives--the parent of egypt--el baggar rides the camel chapter iii. the arabs' exodus--reception by abou sinn--arabs dressing the hair--toilet of an arab woman--the plague of lice--wives among the arabs--the old testament confirmed chapter iv. on the abyssinian border--a new school of medicine--sacred shrines and epidemics chapter v. a primitive craft--stalking the giraffes--my first giraffes-rare sport with the finny tribe--thieving elephants chapter vi. preparations for advance--mek nimmur makes a foray--the hamran elephant-hunters--in the haunts of the elephant--a desperate charge chapter vii. the start from geera--feats of horsemanship--a curious chase--abou do wins a race--capturing a young buffalo--our island camp--tales of the base chapter viii. the elephant trumpets--fighting an elephant with swords--the forehead-shot--elephants in a panic--a superb old neptune--the harpoon reaches its aim--death of the hippopotamus--tramped by an elephant chapter ix. fright of the tokrooris--deserters who didn't desert--arrival of the sherrif brothers--now for a tally-ho!--on the heels of the rhinoceroses--the abyssinian rhinoceros--every man for himself chapter x. a day with the howartis--a hippo's gallant fight--abou do leaves us--three yards from a lion--days of delight--a lion's furious rage--astounding courage of a horse chapter xi. the bull-elephant--daring hamrans--the elephant helpless--visited by a minstrel--a determined musician--the nest of the outlaws--the atbara river chapter xii. abyssinian slave-girls--khartoum--the soudan under egyptian rule--slave-trade in the soudan--the obstacles ahead chapter xiii. gondokoro--a mutiny quelled--arrival of speke and grant--the sources of the nile-arab duplicity--the boy-slave's story--saat adopted chapter xiv. startling disclosures--the last hope seems gone--the bari chief's advice--hoping for the best--ho for central africa! chapter xv. a start made at last--a forced march--lightening the ship--waiting for the caravan--success hangs in the balance--the greatest rascal in central africa--legge demands another bottle chapter xvi. the greeting of the slave-traders--collapse of the mutiny--african funerals-visit from the latooka chief--bokke makes a suggestion--slaughter of the turks--success as a prophet--commoro's philosophy chapter xvii. disease in the camp--forward under difficulties--our cup of misery overflows--a rain-maker in a dilemma-fever again--ibrahim's quandary-firing the prairie chapter xviii. greeting from kamrasi's people--suffering from the sins of others-alone among savages--the free-masonry of unyoro.--pottery and civilization chapter xix. kamrasi's cowardice--interview with the king--the exchange of blood--the rod beggar's last chance--an astounded sovereign chapter xx. a satanic escort--prostrated by sun-stroke--days and nights of sorrow--the reward for all our labor chapter xxi. the cradle of the nile--arrival at magungo--the blind leading the blind--murchison falls chapter xxii. prisoners on the island--left to starve--months of helpless-ness--we rejoin the turks--the real kamrasi--in the presence of royalty chapter xxiii. the hour of deliverance--triumphal entry into gondokoro--homeward bound--the plague breaks out--our welcome at khartoum--return to civilization in the heart of africa. chapter i. the nubian desert--the bitter well--change of plans--an irascible dragoman--pools of the atbara--one secret of the nile--at cassala. in march, , i commenced an expedition to discover the sources of the nile, with the hope of meeting the east african expedition of captains speke and grant, that had been sent by the english government from the south via zanzibar, for the same object. i had not the presumption to publish my intention, as the sources of the nile had hitherto defied all explorers, but i had inwardly determined to accomplish this difficult task or to die in the attempt. from my youth i had been inured to hardships and endurance in wild sports in tropical climates, and when i gazed upon the map of africa i had a wild hope, mingled with humility, that, even as the insignificant worm bores through the hardest oak, i might by perseverance reach the heart of africa. i could not conceive that anything in this world has power to resist a determined will, so long as health and life remain. the failure of every former attempt to reach the nile source did not astonish me, as the expeditions had consisted of parties, which, when difficulties occur, generally end in difference of opinion and in retreat; i therefore determined to proceed alone, trusting in the guidance of a divine providence and the good fortune that sometimes attends a tenacity of purpose. i weighed carefully the chances of the undertaking. before me, untrodden africa; against me, the obstacles that had defeated the world since its creation; on my side, a somewhat tough constitution, perfect independence, a long experience in savage life, and both time and means, which i intended to devote to the object without limit. england had never sent an expedition to the nile sources previous to that under the command of speke and grant. bruce, ninety years before, had succeeded in tracing the source of the blue or lesser nile; thus the honor of that discovery belonged to great britain. speke was on his road from the south, and i felt confident that my gallant friend would leave his bones upon the path rather than submit to failure. i trusted that england would not be beaten, and although i hardly dared to hope that i could succeed where others greater than i had failed, i determined to sacrifice all in the attempt. had i been alone, it would have been no hard lot to die upon the untrodden path before me; but there was one who, although my greatest comfort, was also my greatest care, one whose life yet dawned at so early an age that womanhood was still a future. i shuddered at the prospect for her, should she be left alone in savage lands at my death; and gladly would i have left her in the luxuries of home instead of exposing her to the miseries of africa. it was in vain that i implored her to remain, and that i painted the difficulties and perils still blacker than i supposed they really would be. she was resolved, with woman's constancy and devotion, to share all dangers and to follow me through each rough footstep of the wild life before me. "and ruth said, entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee; for whither thou goest i will go, and where thou lodgest i will lodge; thy people shall be my people, and thy god my god; where thou diest will i die, and there will i be buried: the lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me." thus accompanied by my wife, on the th of april, , i sailed up the nile from cairo. the wind blew fair and strong from the north, and we flew toward the south against the stream, watching those mysterious waters with a firm resolve to track them to their distant fountain. i had a firman from the viceroy, a cook, and a dragoman. thus my impedimenta were not numerous. the firman was an order to all egyptian officials for assistance; the cook was dirty and incapable; and the interpreter was nearly ignorant of english, although a professed polyglot. with this small beginning, africa was before me, and thus i commenced the search for the sources of the nile. on arrival at korosko, twenty-six days from cairo, we started across the nubian desert. during the cool months, from november until february, the desert journey is not disagreeable; but the vast area of glowing sand exposed to the scorching sun of summer, in addition to the withering breath of the simoom, renders the forced march of two hundred and thirty miles in seven days, at two and a half miles per hour, one of the most fatiguing journeys that can be endured. we entered a dead level plain of orange-colored sand, surrounded by pyramidical hills. the surface was strewn with objects resembling cannon shot and grape of all sizes from a -pounder downward, and looked like the old battle-field of some infernal region--rocks glowing with heat, not a vestige of vegetation, barren, withering desolation. the slow rocking step of the camels was most irksome, and, despite the heat, i dismounted to examine the satanic bombs and cannon shot. many of them were as perfectly round as though cast in a mould, others were egg-shaped, and all were hollow. with some difficulty i broke them, and found them to contain a bright red sand. they were, in fact, volcanic bombs that had been formed by the ejection of molten lava to a great height from active volcanoes; these had become globular in falling, and, having cooled before they reached the earth, they retained their forms as hard spherical bodies, precisely resembling cannon shot. the exterior was brown, and appeared to be rich in iron. the smaller specimens were the more perfect spheres, as they cooled quickly; but many of the heavier masses had evidently reached the earth when only half solidified, and had collapsed upon falling. the sandy plain was covered with such vestiges of volcanic action, and the infernal bombs lay as imperishable relics of a hailstorm such as may have destroyed sodom and gomorrah. passing through this wretched solitude, we entered upon a scene of surpassing desolation. far as the eye could reach were waves like a stormy sea, gray, coldlooking waves in the burning heat; but no drop of water. it appeared as though a sudden curse had turned a raging sea to stone. the simoom blew over this horrible wilderness, and drifted the hot sand into the crevices of the rocks, and the camels drooped their heads before the suffocating wind; but still the caravan noiselessly crept along over the rocky undulations, until the stormy sea was passed; once more we were upon a boundless plain of sand and pebbles. in forty-six hours and forty-five minutes' actual marching from korosko, we reached moorahd, "the bitter well." this is a mournful spot, well known to the tired and thirsty camel, the hope of reaching which has urged him fainting on his weary way to drink one draught before he dies. this is the camel's grave. situated half way between korosko and abou hammed, the well of moorahd is in an extinct crater, surrounded upon all sides but one by precipitous cliffs about three hundred feet high. the bottom is a dead flat, and forms a valley of sand about two hundred and fifty yards wide. in this bosom of a crater, salt and bitter water is found at a depth of only six feet from the surface. to this our tired camels frantically rushed upon being unloaded. the valley was a "valley of dry bones." innumerable skeletons of camels lay in all directions-the ships of the desert thus stranded on their voyage. withered heaps of parched skin and bone lay here and there, in the distinct forms in which the camels had gasped their last. the dry desert air had converted the hide into a coffin. there were no flies here, thus there were no worms to devour the carcasses; but the usual sextons were the crows, although sometimes too few to perform their office. these were perched upon the overhanging cliffs; but no sooner had our overworked camels taken their long draught and lain down exhausted on the sand, than by common consent they descended from their high places and walked round and round each tired beast. as many wretched animals simply crawl to this spot to die, the crows, from long experience and constant practice, can form a pretty correct diagnosis upon the case of a sick camel. they had evidently paid a professional visit to my caravan, and were especially attentive in studying the case of one particular camel that was in a very weakly condition and had stretched itself full length upon the sand; nor would they leave it until it was driven forward. many years ago, when the egyptian troops first conquered nubia, a regiment was destroyed by thirst in crossing this desert. the men, being upon a limited allowance of water, suffered from extreme thirst, and deceived by the appearance of a mirage that exactly resembled a beautiful lake, they insisted on being taken to its banks by the arab guide. it was in vain that the guide assured them that the lake was unreal, and he refused to lose the precious time by wandering from his course. words led to blows, and he was killed by the soldiers, whose lives depended upon his guidance. the whole regiment turned from the track and rushed toward the welcome waters. thirsty and faint, over the burning sands they hurried; heavier and heavier their footsteps became; hotter and hotter their breath, as deeper they pushed into the desert, farther and farther from the lost track where the pilot lay in his blood; and still the mocking spirits of the desert, the afreets of the mirage, led them on, and the hike glistening in the sunshine tempted them to bathe in its cool waters, close to their eyes, but never at their lips. at length the delusion vanished--the fatal lake had turned to burning sand! raging thirst and horrible despair! the pathless desert and the murdered guide! lost! lost! all lost! not a man ever left the desert, but they were subsequently discovered, parched and withered corpses, by the arabs sent upon the search. during our march the simoom was fearful, and the heat so intense that it was impossible to draw the guncases out of their leather covers, which it was necessary to cut open. all woodwork was warped; ivory knife-handles were split; paper broke when crunched in the hand, and the very marrow seemed to be dried out of the bones. the extreme dryness of the air induced an extraordinary amount of electricity in the hair and in all woollen materials. a scotch plaid laid upon a blanket for a few hours adhered to it, and upon being withdrawn at night a sheet of flame was produced, accompanied by tolerably loud reports. we reached berber on may st, and spent a week in resting after our formidable desert march of fifteen days. from the slight experience i had gained in the journey, i felt convinced that success in my nile expedition would be impossible without a knowledge of arabic. my dragoman had me completely in his power, and i resolved to become independent of all interpreters as soon as possible. i therefore arranged a plan of exploration for the first year, to embrace the affluents to the nile from the abyssinian range of mountains, intending to follow up the atbara river from its junction with the nile in latitude deg. min. (twenty miles south of berber), and to examine all the nile tributaries from the southeast as far as the blue nile, which river i hoped ultimately to descend to khartoum. i imagined that twelve months would be sufficient to complete such an exploration, by which time i should have gained a sufficient knowledge of the arabic to render me able to converse fairly well. the wind at this season (june) was changeable, and strong blasts from the south were the harbingers of the approaching rainy season. we had no time to lose, and we accordingly arranged to start. i discharged my dirty cook, and engaged a man who was brought by a coffeehouse keeper, by whom he was highly recommended; but, as a precaution against deception, i led him before the mudir, or governor, to be registered before our departure. to my astonishment, and to his infinite disgust, he was immediately recognized as an old offender, who had formerly been imprisoned for theft! the governor, to prove his friendship and his interest in my welfare, immediately sent the police to capture the coffee-house keeper who had recommended the cook. no sooner was the unlucky surety brought to the divan than he was condemned to receive two hundred lashes for having given a false character. the sentence was literally carried out, in spite of my remonstrance, and the police were ordered to make the case public to prevent a recurrence. the governor assured me that, as i held a firman from the viceroy, he could not do otherwise, and that i must believe him to be my truest friend. "save me from my friends," was an adage quickly proved. i could not procure a cook nor any other attendant, as every one was afraid to guarantee a character, lest he might come in for his share of the two hundred lashes! the governor came to my rescue, and sent immediately the promised turkish soldiers, who were to act in the double capacity of escort and servants. they were men of totally opposite characters. hadji achmet was a hardy, powerful, dare-devil-looking turk, while hadji velli was the perfection of politeness, and as gentle as a lamb. my new allies procured me three donkeys in addition to the necessary baggage camels, and we started from berber on the evening of the th of june for the junction of the atbara river with the nile. mahomet, achmet, and ali are equivalent to smith, brown, and thompson. accordingly, of my few attendants, my dragoman was mahomet, and my principal guide was achmet, and subsequently i had a number of alis. mahomet was a regular cairo dragoman, a native of dongola, almost black, but exceedingly tenacious regarding his shade of color, which he declared to be light brown. he spoke very bad english, was excessively conceited, and irascible to a degree. he was one of those dragomans who are accustomed to the civilized expeditions of the british tourist to the first or second cataract, in a nile boat replete with conveniences and luxuries, upon which the dragoman is monarch supreme, a whale among the minnows, who rules the vessel, purchases daily a host of unnecessary supplies, upon which he clears his profit, until he returns to cairo with his pockets filled sufficiently to support him until the following nile season. the short three months' harvest, from november until february, fills his granary for the year. under such circumstances the temper should be angelic. but times had changed. to mahomet the very idea of exploration was an absurdity. he had never believed in it front the first, and he now became impressed with the fact that he was positively committed to an undertaking that would end most likely in his death, if not in terrible difficulties; he determined, under the circumstances, to make himself as disagreeable as possible to all parties. with this amiable resolution he adopted a physical infirmity in the shape of deafness. in reality, no one was more acute in hearing, but as there are no bells where there are no houses, he of course could not answer such a summons, and he was compelled to attend to the call of his own name--"mahomet! mahomet!" no reply, although the individual were sitting within a few feet, apparently absorbed in the contemplation of his own boots. "mahomet!" with an additional emphasis upon the second syllable. again no response. "mahomet, you rascal, why don't you answer?" this energetic address would effect a change in his position. the mild and lamb-like dragoman of cairo would suddenly start from the ground, tear his own hair from his head in handfuls, and shout, "mahomet! mahomet! mahomet! always mahomet! d--n mahomet! i wish he were dead, or back in cairo, this brute mahomet!" the irascible dragoman would then beat his own head unmercifully with his fists, in a paroxysm of rage. to comfort him i could only exclaim, "well done, mahomet! thrash him; pommel him well; punch his head; you know him best; he deserves it; don't spare him!" this advice, acting upon the natural perversity of his disposition, generally soothed him, and he ceased punching his head. this man was entirely out of his place, if not out of his mind, at certain moments, and having upon one occasion smashed a basin by throwing it in the face of the cook, and upon another occasion narrowly escaped homicide by throwing an axe at a man's head, which missed by an inch, he became a notorious character in the little expedition. we left berber in the evening, and about two hours after sunset of the following day reached the junction of the nile and atbara. the latter presented a curious appearance. in no place was it less than four hundred yards in width, and in many places much wider. the banks were from twenty-five to thirty feet deep, and had evidently been overflowed during floods; but now the river bed was dry sand, so glaring that the sun's reflection was almost intolerable. the only shade was afforded by the evergreen dome palms; nevertheless the arabs occupied the banks at intervals of three or four miles, wherever a pool of water in some deep bend of the dried river's bed offered an attraction. in such places were arab villages or camps, of the usual mat tents formed of the dome-palm leaves. many pools were of considerable size and of great depth. in flood-time a tremendous torrent sweeps down the course of the atbara, and the sudden bends of the river are hollowed out by the force of the stream to a depth of twenty or thirty feet below the level of the bed. accordingly these holes become reservoirs of water when the river is otherwise exhausted. in such asylums all the usual inhabitants of this large river are crowded together in a comparatively narrow space. although these pools vary in size, from only a few hundred yards to a mile in length, they are positively full of life; huge fish, crocodiles of immense size, turtles, and occasionally hippopotami, consort together in close and unwished-for proximity. the animals of the desert--gazelles, hyenas, and wild asses--are compelled to resort to these crowded drinking-places, occupied by the flocks of the arabs equally with the timid beasts of the chase. the birds that during the cooler months would wander free throughout the country are now collected in vast numbers along the margin of the exhausted river; innumerable doves, varying in species, throng the trees and seek the shade of the dome-palms; thousands of desert grouse arrive morning and evening to drink and to depart; while birds in multitudes, of lovely plumage, escape from the burning desert and colonize the poor but welcome bushes that fringe the atbara river. after several days' journey along the bank of the atbara we halted at a spot called collodabad, about one hundred and sixty miles from the nile junction. a sharp bend of the river had left a deep pool about a mile in length, and here a number of arabs were congregated, with their flocks and herds. on the evening of june d i was lying half asleep upon my bed by the margin of the river, when i fancied that i heard a rumbling like distant thunder. i had not heard such a sound for months, but a low, uninterrupted roll appeared to increase in volume, although far distant. hardly had i raised my head to listen more attentively when a confusion of voices arose from the arabs' camp, with a sound of many feet, and in a few minutes they rushed into my camp, shouting to my men in the darkness, "el bahr! el bahr!" (the river! the river!) we were up in an instant, and my interpreter, mahomet, in a state of intense confusion, explained that the river was coming down, and that the supposed distant thunder was the roar of approaching water. many of the people were asleep on the clean sand on the river's bed; these were quickly awakened by the arabs, who rushed down the steep bank to save the skulls of two hippopotami that were exposed to dry. hardly had they descended when the sound of the river in the darkness beneath told us that the water had arrived, and the men, dripping with wet, had just sufficient time to drag their heavy burdens up the bank. all was darkness and confusion, everybody talking and no one listening; but the great event had occurred; the river had arrived "like a thief in the night". on the morning of the th of june, i stood on the banks of the noble atbara river at the break of day. the wonder of the desert! yesterday there was a barren sheet of glaring sand, with a fringe of withered bushes and trees upon its borders, that cut the yellow expanse of desert. for days we had journeyed along the exhausted bed; all nature, even in nature's poverty, was most poor: no bush could boast a leaf, no tree could throw a shade, crisp gums crackled upon the stems of the mimosas, the sap dried upon the burst bark, sprung with the withering heat of the simoom. in one night there was a mysterious change. wonders of the mighty nile! an army of water was hastening to the wasted river. there was no drop of rain, no thunder-cloud on the horizon to give hope. all had been dry and sultry, dust and desolation yesterday; to-day a magnificent stream, some five hundred yards in width and from fifteen to twenty feet in depth, flowed through the dreary desert! bamboos and reeds, with trash of all kinds, were hurried along the muddy waters. where were all the crowded inhabitants of the pool? the prison doors were broken, the prisoners were released, and rejoiced in the mighty stream of the atbara. the th of june, , was a memorable day. although this was actually the beginning of my work, i felt that by the experience of this night i had obtained a clew to one portion of the nile mystery, and that, as "coming events cast their shadows before," this sudden creation of a river was but the shadow of the great cause. the rains were pouring in abyssinia! these were sources of the nile! the journey along the margin of the atbara was similar to the route from berber, through a vast desert, with a narrow band of trees that marked the course of the river. the only change was the magical growth of the leaves, which burst hourly from the swollen buds of the mimosas. this could be accounted for by the sudden arrival of the river, as the water percolated rapidly through the sand and nourished the famishing roots. at gozerajup, two hundred and forty-six miles from berber, our route was changed. we had hitherto followed the course of the atbara, but we were now to leave that river on our right, while we travelled about ninety miles south-east to cassala, the capital of the taka country, on the confines of abyssinia, and the great depot for egyptian troops. the entire country from gozerajup to cassala is a dead flat, upon which there is not one tree sufficiently large to shade a full-sized tent. there is no real timber in the country; but the vast level extent of soil is a series of open plains and low bush of thorny mimosa. there is no drainage upon this perfect level; thus, during the rainy season, the soakage actually melts the soil, and forms deep holes throughout the country, which then becomes an impenetrable slough, bearing grass and jungle. no sooner had we arrived in the flooded country than my wife was seized with a sudden and severe fever, which necessitated a halt upon the march, as she could no longer sit upon her camel. in the evening several hundreds of arabs arrived and encamped around our fire. it was shortly after sunset, and it was interesting to watch the extreme rapidity with which these swarthy sons of the desert pitched their camp. a hundred fires were quickly blazing; the women prepared the food, and children sat in clusters around the blaze, as all were wet from paddling through the puddled ground from which they were retreating. no sooner was the bustle of arrangement completed than a gray old man stepped forward, and, responding to his call, every man of the hundreds present formed in line, three or four deep. at once there was total silence, disturbed only by the crackling of the fires or by the cry of a child; and with faces turned to the east, in attitudes of profound devotion, the wild but fervent followers of mahomet repeated their evening prayer. the flickering red light of the fires illumined the bronze faces of the congregation, and as i stood before the front line of devotees, i tools off my cap in respect for their faith, and at the close of their prayer made my salaam to their venerable faky (priest); he returned the salutation with the cold dignity of an arab. on the next day my wife's fever was renewed, but she was placed on a dromedary and we reached cassala about sunset. the place is rich in hyenas, and the night was passed in the discordant howling of these disgusting but useful animals. they are the scavengers of the country, devouring every species of filth and clearing all carrion from the earth. without the hyenas and vultures the neighborhood of a nubian village would be unbearable. it is the idle custom of the people to leave unburied all animals that die; thus, among the numerous flocks and herds, the casualties would create a pestilence were it not for the birds and beasts of prey. on the following morning the fever had yielded to quinine, and we were enabled to receive a round of visits--the governor and suite, elias bey, the doctor and a friend, and, lastly, malem georgis, an elderly greek merchant, who, with great hospitality, insisted upon our quitting the sultry tent and sharing his own roof. we therefore became his guests in a most comfortable house for some days. here we discharged our camels, as our turk, hadji achmet's, service ended at this point, and proceeded to start afresh for the nile tributaries of abyssinia. chapter ii. egypt's rule of the soudan--corn-grinding in the soudan--mahomet meets relatives--the parent of egypt--el baggar rides the camel. cassala was built about twenty years before i visited the country, after taka had been conquered and annexed to egypt. the general annexation of the soudan and the submission of the numerous arab tribes to the viceroy have been the first steps necessary to the improvement of the country. although the egyptians are hard masters, and do not trouble themselves about the future well-being of the conquered races, it must be remembered that, prior to the annexation, all the tribes were at war among themselves. there was neither government nor law; thus the whole country was closed to europeans. at the time of my visit to cassala in the arab tribes were separately governed by their own chiefs or sheiks, who were responsible to the egyptian authorities for the taxes due from their people. since that period the entire tribes of all denominations have been placed under the authority of that grand old arab patriarch, achmet abou sinn, to be hereafter mentioned. the iron hand of despotism has produced a marvellous change among the arabs, who are rendered utterly powerless by the system of government adopted by the egyptians; unfortunately, this harsh system has the effect of paralyzing all industry. the principal object of turks and egyptians in annexation is to increase their power of taxation by gaining an additional number of subjects. thus, although many advantages have accrued to the arab provinces of nubia through egyptian rule, there exists very much mistrust between the governed and the governing. not only are the camels, cattle, and sheep subjected to a tax, but every attempt at cultivation is thwarted by the authorities, who impose a fine or tax upon the superficial area of the cultivated land. thus, no one will cultivate more than is absolutely necessary, as he dreads the difficulties that broad acres of waving crops would entail upon his family. the bona fide tax is a bagatelle to the amounts squeezed from him by the extortionate soldiery, who are the agents employed by the sheik; these must have their share of the plunder, in excess of the amount to be delivered to their employer; he also must have his plunder before he parts with the bags of dollars to the governor of the province. thus the unfortunate cultivator is ground down. should he refuse to pay the necessary "backsheesh" or present to the tax-collectors, some false charge is trumped up against him, and he is thrown into prison. as a green field is an attraction to a flight of locusts in their desolating voyage, so is a luxuriant farm in the soudan a point for the tax-collectors of upper egypt. i have frequently ridden several days' journey through a succession of empty villages, deserted by the inhabitants upon the report of the soldiers' approach. the women and children, goats and cattle, camels and asses, had all been removed into the wilderness for refuge, while their crops of corn had been left standing for the plunderers, who would be too idle to reap and thrash the grain. notwithstanding the miserable that fetters the steps of improvement, nature has bestowed such great capabilities of production in the fertile soil of this country that the yield of a small surface is more than sufficient for the requirements of the population, and actual poverty is unknown. the average price of dhurra is fifteen piastres per "rachel," or about s. d. for five hundred pounds upon the spot where it is grown. the dhurra (sorghum andropogon) is the grain most commonly used throughout the soudan; there are great varieties of this plant, of which the most common are the white and the red. the land is not only favored by nature by its fertility, but the intense heat of the summer is the laborer's great assistant. as before described, all vegetation entirely disappears in the glaring sun, or becomes so dry that it is swept off by fire; thus the soil is perfectly clean and fit for immediate cultivation upon the arrival of the rains. the tool generally used is similar to the dutch hoe. with this simple implement the surface is scratched to the depth of about two inches, and the seeds of the dhurra are dibbled in about three feet apart, in rows from four to five feet in width. two seeds are dropped into each hole. a few days after the first shower they rise above the ground, and when about six inches high the whole population turn out of their villages at break of day to weed the dhurra fields. sown in july, it is harvested in february and march. eight months are thus required for the cultivation of this cereal in the intense heat of nubia. for the first three months the growth is extremely rapid, and the stem attains a height of six or seven feet. when at perfection in the rich soil of the taka country, the plant averages a height of ten feet, the circumference of the stem being about four inches. the crown is a feather very similar to that of the sugar-cane; the blossom falls, and the feather becomes a head of dhurra, weighing about two pounds. each grain is about the size of hemp-seed. i took the trouble of counting the corns contained in an average-sized head, the result being , . the process of harvesting and threshing is remarkably simple, as the heads are simply detached from the straw and beaten out in piles. the dried straw is a substitute for sticks in forming the walls of the village huts; these are plastered with clay and cow-dung, which form the arab's lath and plaster. the millers' work is exclusively the province of the women. no man will condescend to grind the corn. there are no circular hand-mills, as among oriental nations; but the corn is ground upon a simple flat stone, of cithor gneiss or granite, about two feet in length by fourteen inches in width. the face of this is roughened by beating with a sharp-pointed piece of harder stone, such as quartz or hornblende, and the grain is reduced to flour by great labor and repeated grinding or rubbing with a stone rolling-pin. the flour is mixed with water and allowed to ferment; it is then made into thin pancakes upon an earthenware flat portable hearth. this species of leavened bread is known to the arabs as the kisra. it is not very palatable, but it is extremely well suited to arab cookery, as it can be rolled up like a pancake and dipped in the general dish of meat and gravy very conveniently, in the absence of spoons and forks. on the th of july i had concluded my arrangements for the start. there had been some difficulty in procuring camels, but the all-powerful firman was a never-failing talisman, and as the arabs had declined to let their animals for hire, the governor despatched a number of soldiers and seized the required number, including their owners. i engaged two wild young arabs of eighteen and twenty years of age, named bacheet and wat gamma. the latter, being interpreted, signifies "son of the moon." this in no way suggests lunacy; but the young arab had happened to enter this world on the day of the new moon, which was considered to be a particularly fortunate and brilliant omen at his birth. whether the climax of his good fortune had arrived at the moment he entered my service i know not; but, if so, there was a cloud over his happiness in his subjection to mahomet, the dragoman, who rejoiced in the opportunity of bullying the two inferiors. wat gamma was a quiet, steady, well-conducted lad, who bore oppression mildly; but the younger, bucheet, was a fiery, wild young arab, who, although an excellent boy in his peculiar way, was almost incapable of being tamed and domesticated. i at once perceived that mahomet would have a determined rebel to control, which i confess i did not regret. wages were not high in this part of the world--the lads were engaged at one and a half dollars per month and their keep. mahomet, who was a great man, suffered from the same complaint to which great men are (in those countries) particularly subject. wherever he went he was attacked with claimants of relationship. he was overwhelmed with professions of friendship from people who claimed to be connections of some of his family. in fact, if all the ramifications of his race were correctly represented by the claimants of relationship, mahomet's family tree would have shaded the nubian desert we all have our foibles. the strongest fort has its feeble point, as the chain snaps at its weakest link. family pride was mahomet's weak link. this was his tender point; and mahomet, the great and the imperious, yielded to the gentle scratching of his ear if a stranger claimed connection with his ancient lineage. of course he had no family, with the exception of his wife and two children, whom he had left in cairo. the lady whom he had honored by admission into the domestic circle of the mahomets was suffering from a broken arm when we started from egypt, as she had cooked the dinner badly, and the "gaddah," or large wooden bowl, had been thrown at her by the naturally indignant husband, precisely as he had thrown the axe at one man and the basin at another while in our service. these were little contretemps that could hardly disturb the dignity of so great a man. mahomet met several relatives at cassala. one borrowed money of him; another stole his pipe; the third, who declared that nothing should separate them now that "by the blessing of god" they had met, determined to accompany him through all the difficulties of our expedition, provided that mahomet would only permit him to serve for love, without wages. i gave mahomet some little advice upon this point, reminding him that, although the clothes of the party were only worth a few piastres, the spoons and forks were silver; therefore i should hold him responsible for the honesty of his friend. this reflection upon the family gave great offence, and he assured me that achmet, our quondam acquaintance, was so near a relative that he was--i assisted him in the genealogical distinction: "mother's brother's cousin's sister's mother's son? eh, mahomet?" "yes, sar, that's it!" "very well, mahomet; mind he doesn't steal the spoons, and thrash him if he doesn't do his work!" "yes, sar", replied mahomet; "he all same like one brother; he one good man; will do his business quietly; if not, master lick him." the new relative not understanding english, was perfectly satisfied with the success of his introduction, and from that moment he became one of the party. one more addition, and our arrangements were completed: the governor of cassala was determined we should not start without a soldier guide to represent the government. accordingly he gave us a black corporal, so renowned as a sportsman that he went by the name of "el baggar" (the cow), because of his having killed several of the oryx antelope, known as "el baggar et wabash" (cow of the desert). after sixteen hours' actual marching from cassala we arrived at the valley of the atbara. there was an extraordinary change in the appearance of the river between gozerajup and this spot. there was no longer the vast sandy desert with the river flowing through its sterile course on a level with the surface of the country; but after traversing an apparently perfect flat of forty-five miles of rich alluvial soil, we had suddenly arrived upon the edge of a deep valley, between five and six miles wide, at the bottom of which, about two hundred feet below the general level of the country, flowed the river atbara. on the opposite side of the valley the same vast table-lands continued to the western horizon. we commenced the descent toward the river: the valley was a succession of gullies and ravines, of landslips and watercourses. the entire hollow, of miles in width, had evidently been the work of the river. how many ages had the rains and the stream been at work to scoop out from the flat tableland this deep and broad valley? here was the giant laborer that had shovelled the rich loam upon the delta of lower egypt! upon these vast flats of fertile soil there can be no drainage except through soakage. the deep valley is therefore the receptacle not only for the water that oozes from its sides, but subterranean channels, bursting as land-springs from all parts of the walls of the valley, wash down the more soluble portions of earth, and continually waste away the soil. landslips occur daily during the rainy season; streams of rich mud pour down the valley's slopes, and as the river flows beneath in a swollen torrent, the friable banks topple down into the stream and dissolve. the atbara becomes the thickness of peasoup, as its muddy waters steadily perform the duty they have fulfilled from age to age. thus was the great river at work upon our arrival on its bank at the bottom of the valley. the arab name, "bahr el aswat" (black river) was well bestowed; it was the black mother of egypt, still carrying to her offspring the nourishment that had first formed the delta. at this point of interest the journey had commenced; the deserts were passed; all was fertility and life. wherever the sources of the nile might be, the atbara was the parent of egypt! this was my first impression, to be proved hereafter. a violent thunderstorm, with a deluge of rain, broke upon our camp on the banks of the atbara, fortunately just after the tents were pitched. we thus had an example of the extraordinary effects of the heavy rain in tearing away the soil of the valley. trifling watercourses were swollen to torrents. banks of earth became loosened and fell in, and the rush of mud and water upon all sides swept forward into the river with a rapidity which threatened the destruction of the country, could such a tempest endure for a few days. in a couple of hours all was over. in the evening we crossed with our baggage and people to the opposite side of the ricer, and pitched our tents at the village of goorashee. in the morning the camels arrived, and once more we were ready to start. our factotum, el baggar, had collected a number of baggage-camels and riding dromedaries, or "hygeens". the latter he had brought for approval, as we bad suffered much from the extreme roughness of our late camels. there is the same difference between a good hygeen, or dromedary, and a baggage-camel, as between the thoroughbred and the cart-horse; and it appears absurd in the eyes of the arabs that a man of any position should ride a baggage-camel. apart from all ideas of etiquette, the motion of the latter animal is quite sufficient warning. of all species of fatigue, the back-breaking, monotonous swing of a heavy camel is the worst; and should the rider lose patience and administer a sharp cut with the coorbatch, that induces the creature to break into a trot, the torture of the rack is a pleasant tickling compared to the sensation of having your spine driven by a sledge-hammer from below, half a foot deeper into the skull. the human frame may be inured to almost anything; thus the arabs, who have always been accustomed to this kind of exercise, hardly feel the motion, and the portion of the body most subject to pain in riding a rough camel upon two bare pieces of wood for a saddle, becomes naturally adapted for such rough service, as monkeys become hardened from constantly sitting upon rough substances. the children commence almost as soon as they are born, as they must accompany their mothers in their annual migrations; and no sooner can the young arab sit astride and hold on than he is placed behind his father's saddle, to which he clings, while he bumps upon the bare back of the jolting camel. nature quickly arranges a horny protection to the nerves, by the thickening of the skin; thus, an arab's opinion of the action of a riding hygeen should never be accepted without a personal trial. what appears delightful to him may be torture to you, as a strong breeze and a rough sea may be charming to a sailor, but worse than death to a landsman. i was determined not to accept the camels now offered as hygeens until i had seen them tried. i accordingly ordered our black soldier, el baggar, to saddle the most easy-actioned animal for my wife; but i wished to see him put it through a variety of paces before she should accept it. the delighted el baggar, who from long practice was as hard as the heel of a boot, disdained a saddle. the animal knelt, was mounted, and off he started at full trot, performing a circle of about fifty yards' diameter as though in a circus. i never saw such an exhibition! "warranted quiet to ride, of easy action, and fit for a lady!" this had been the character received with the rampant brute, who now, with head and tail erect, went tearing round the circle, screaming and roaring like a wild beast, throwing his forelegs forward and stepping at least three feet high in his trot. where was el baggar? a disjointed looking black figure was sometimes on the back of this easy going camel, sometimes a foot high in the air; arms, head, legs, hands, appeared like a confused mass of dislocation; the woolly hair of this unearthly individual, that had been carefully trained in long stiff narrow curls, precisely similar to the tobacco known as "negro-head," alternately started upright en masse, as though under the influence of electricity, and then fell as suddenly upon his shoulders. had the dark individual been a "black dose", he or it could not have been more thoroughly shaken. this object, so thoroughly disguised by rapidity of movement, was el baggar happy, delighted el baggar! as he came rapidly round toward us flourishing his coorbatch, i called to him, "is that a nice hygeen for the sit (lady), el baggar? is it very easy?" he was almost incapable of a reply. "v-e-r-y e-e-a-a-s-y," replied the trustworthy authority, "j-j-j-just the thin-n-n-g for the s-i-i-i-t-t-t." "all right, that will do," i answered, and the jockey pulled up his steed. "are the other camels better or worse than that?" i asked. "much worse," replied el baggar; "the others are rather rough, but this is an easy goer, and will suit the lady well." it was impossible to hire a good hygeen; an arab prizes his riding animal too much, and invariably refuses to let it to a stranger, but generally imposes upon him by substituting some lightly-built camel that he thinks will pass muster. i accordingly chose for my wife a steady-going animal from among the baggage-camels, trusting to be able to obtain a hygeen from the great sheik abou sinn, who was encamped upon the road we were about to take along the valley of the atbara. we left goorashee on the following day. chapter iii. the arabs' exodus-reception by abou sinn-arabs dressing the hair-toilet of an arab woman-the plague of lice-wives among the arabs-the old testament confirmed it was the season of rejoicing. everybody appeared in good humor. the distended udders of thousands of camels were an assurance of plenty. the burning sun that for nine months had scorched the earth was veiled by passing clouds. the cattle that had panted for water, and whose food was withered straw, were filled with juicy fodder. the camels that had subsisted upon the dried and leafless twigs and branches, now feasted upon the succulent tops of the mimosas. throngs of women and children mounted upon camels, protected by the peculiar gaudy saddle-hood, ornamented with cowrie-shells, accompanied the march. thousands of sheep and goats, driven by arab boys, were straggling in all directions. baggage-camels, heavily laden with the quaint household goods, blocked up the way. the fine bronzed figures of arabs, with sword and shield, and white topes, or plaids, guided their milk-white dromedaries through the confused throng with the usual placid dignity of their race, simply passing by with the usual greeting, "salaam aleikum" (peace be with you). it was the exodus; all were hurrying toward the promised land--"the land flowing with milk and honey", where men and beasts would be secure, not only from the fevers of the south, but from that deadly enemy to camels and cattle, the fly. this terrible insect drove all before it. if all were right in migrating to the north, it was a logical conclusion that we were wrong in going to the south during the rainy season; however, we now heard from the arabs that we were within a couple of hours' march from the camp of the great sheik achmet abou sinn, to whom i had a letter of introduction. at the expiration of about that time we halted, and pitched the tents among some shady mimosas, while i sent mahomet to abou sinn with the letter, and my firman. i was busily engaged in making sundry necessary arrangements in the tent when mahomet returned and announced the arrival of the great sheik in person. he was attended by several of his principal people, and as he approached through the bright green mimosas, mounted upon a beautiful snow-white hygeen, i was exceedingly struck with his venerable and dignified appearance. upon near arrival i went forward to meet him and to assist him from his camel; but his animal knelt immediately at his command, and he dismounted with the ease and agility of a man of twenty. he was the most magnificent specimen of an arab that i have ever seen. although upward of eighty years of age, he was as erect as a lance, and did not appear more than between fifty and sixty. he was of herculean stature, about six feet three inches high, with immensely broad shoulders and chest, a remarkably arched nose, eyes like an eagle's, beneath large, shaggy, but perfectly white eyebrows. a snow-white beard of great thickness descended below the middle of his breast. he wore a large white turban and a white cashmere abbai, or long robe, from the throat to the ankles. as a desert patriarch he was superb--the very perfection of all that the imagination could paint, if we should personify abraham at the head of his people. this grand old arab with the greatest politeness insisted upon our immediately accompanying him to his camp, as he could not allow us to remain in his country as strangers. he would hear of no excuses, but at once gave orders to mahomet to have the baggage repacked and the tents removed, while we were requested to mount two superb white hygeens, with saddle-cloths of blue persian sheepskins, that he had immediately accoutered when he heard from mahomet of our miserable camels. the tent was struck, and we joined our venerable host with a line of wild and splendidly-mounted attendants, who followed us toward the sheik's encampment. among the retinue of the aged sheik whom we now accompanied, were ten of his sons, some of whom appeared to be quite as old as their father. we had ridden about two miles when we were suddenly met by a crowd of mounted men, armed with the usual swords and shields; many were on horses, others upon hygeens, and all drew up in lines parallel with our approach. these were abou sinn's people, who had assembled to give us the honorary welcome as guests of their chief. this etiquette of the arabs consists in galloping singly at full speed across the line of advance, the rider flourishing the sword over his head, and at the same moment reining up his horse upon its haunches so as to bring it to a sudden halt. this having been performed by about a hundred riders upon both horses and hygeens, they fell into line behind our party, and, thus escorted, we shortly arrived at the arab encampment. in all countries the warmth of a public welcome appears to be exhibited by noise. the whole neighborhood had congregated to meet us; crowds of women raised the wild, shrill cry that is sounded alike for joy or sorrow; drums were beat; men dashed about with drawn swords and engaged in mimic fight, and in the midst of din and confusion we halted and dismounted. with peculiar grace of manner the old sheik assisted my wife to dismount, and led her to an open shed arranged with angareps (stretchers) covered with persian carpets and cushions, so as to form a divan. sherbet, pipes, and coffee were shortly handed to us, and mahomet, as dragoman, translated the customary interchange of compliments; the sheik assured us that our unexpected arrival among them was "like the blessing of a new moon", the depth of which expression no one can understand who has not experienced life in the desert, where the first faint crescent is greeted with such enthusiasm. abou sinn had arranged to move northward on the following day; we therefore agreed to pass one day in his camp, and to leave the next morning for sofi, on the atbara, about seventy-eight miles distant. from korosko to this point we had already passed the bedouins, bishareens, hadendowas, hallongas, until we had entered the shookeriyahs. on the west of our present position were the jalyns, and to the south near sofi were the dabainas. many of the tribes claim a right to the title of bedouins, as descended from that race. the customs of all the arabs are nearly similar, and the distinction in appearance is confined to a peculiarity in dressing the hair. this is a matter of great importance among both men and women. it would be tedious to describe the minutiae of the various coiffures, but the great desire with all tribes, except the jalyn, is to have a vast quantity of hair arranged in their own peculiar fashion, and not only smeared, but covered with as much fat as can be made to adhere. thus, should a man wish to get himself up as a great dandy, he would put at least half a pound of butter or other fat upon his head. this would be worked up with his coarse locks by a friend, until it somewhat resembled a cauliflower. he would then arrange his tope or plaid of thick cotton cloth, and throw one end over his left shoulder, while slung from the same shoulder his circular shield would hang upon his back; suspended by a strap over the right shoulder would hang his long two-edged broadsword. fat is the great desideratum of an arab. his head, as i have described, should be a mass of grease; he rubs his body with oil or other ointment; his clothes, i.e. his one garment or tope, is covered with grease, and internally he swallows as much as he can procure. the great sheik abou sinn, who is upward of eighty, as upright as a dart, a perfect hercules, and whose children and grandchildren are like the sand of the sea-shore, has always consumed daily throughout his life two rottolis (pounds) of melted butter. a short time before i left the country he married a new young wife about fourteen years of age. this may be a hint to octogenarians. the fat most esteemed for dressing the hair is that of the sheep. this undergoes a curious preparation, which renders it similar in appearance to cold cream; upon the raw fat being taken from the animal it is chewed in the mouth by an arab for about two hours, being frequently taken out for examination during that time, until it has assumed the desired consistency. to prepare sufficient to enable a man to appear in full dress, several persons must be employed in masticating fat at the same time. this species of pomade, when properly made, is perfectly white, and exceedingly light and frothy. it may be imagined that when exposed to a burning sun, the beauty of the head-dress quickly disappears; but the oil then runs down the neck and back, which is considered quite correct, especially when the tope becomes thoroughly greased. the man is then perfectly anointed. we had seen an amusing example of this when on the march from berber to gozerajup. the turk, hadji achmet, had pressed into our service, as a guide for a few miles, a dandy who had just been arranged as a cauliflower, with at least half a pound of white fat upon his head. as we were travelling upward of four miles an hour in an intense heat, during which he was obliged to run, the fat ran quicker than he did, and at the end of a couple of hours both the dandy and his pomade were exhausted. the poor fellow had to return to his friends with the total loss of personal appearance and half a pound of butter. not only are the arabs particular in their pomade, but great attention is bestowed upon perfumery, especially by the women. various perfumes are brought from cairo by the travelling native merchants, among which those most in demand are oil of roses, oil of sandal-wood, an essence from the blossom of a species of mimosa, essence of musk, and the oil of cloves. the women have a peculiar method of scenting their bodies and clothes by an operation that is considered to be one of the necessaries of life, and which is repeated at regular intervals. in the floor of the tent, or hut, as it may chance to be, a small hole is excavated sufficiently large to contain a common-sized champagne bottle. a fire of charcoal, or of simply glowing embers, is made within the hole, into which the woman about to be scented throws a handful of various drugs. she then takes off the cloth or tope which forms her dress, and crouches naked over the fumes, while she arranges her robe to fall as a mantle from her neck to the ground like a tent. when this arrangement is concluded she is perfectly happy, as none of the precious fumes can escape, all being retained beneath the robe, precisely as if she wore a crinoline with an incense-burner beneath it, which would be a far more simple way of performing the operation. she now begins to perspire freely in the hot-air bath, and the pores of the skin being thus opened and moist, the volatile oil from the smoke of the burning perfumes is immediately absorbed. by the time that the fire has expired the scenting process is completed, and both her person and robe are redolent of incense, with which they are so thoroughly impregnated that i have frequently smelt a party of women strongly at full a hundred yards' distance, when the wind has been blowing from their direction. the arab women do not indulge in fashions. strictly conservative in their manners and customs, they never imitate, but they simply vie with each other in the superlativeness of their own style; thus the dressing of the hair is a most elaborate affair, which occupies a considerable portion of their time. it is quite impossible for an arab woman to arrange her own hair; she therefore employs an assistant, who, if clever in the art, will generally occupy about three days before the operation is concluded. first, the hair must be combed with a long skewer-like pin; then, when well divided, it becomes possible to use an exceedingly coarse wooden comb. when the hair is reduced to reasonable order by the latter process, a vigorous hunt takes place, which occupies about an hour, according to the amount of game preserved. the sport concluded, the hair is rubbed with a mixture of oil of roses, myrrh, and sandal-wood dust mixed with a powder of cloves and cassia. when well greased and rendered somewhat stiff by the solids thus introduced, it is plaited into at least two hundred fine plaits; each of these plaits is then smeared with a mixture of sandal-wood dust and either gum water or paste of dhurra flour. on the last day of the operation, each tiny plait is carefully opened by the long hairpin or skewer, and the head is ravissante. scented and frizzled in this manner with a well-greased tope or robe, the arab lady's toilet is complete. her head is then a little larger than the largest sized english mop, and her perfume is something between the aroma of a perfumer's shop and the monkey-house at the zoological gardens. this is considered "very killing," and i have been quite of that opinion when a crowd of women have visited my wife in our tent, with the thermometer at degrees c, and have kindly consented to allow me to remain as one of the party. it is hardly necessary to add that the operation of hairdressing is not often performed, but that the effect is permanent for about a week, during which time the game becomes so excessively lively that the creatures require stirring up with the long hairpin or skewer whenever too unruly. this appears to be constantly necessary from the vigorous employment of the ruling sceptre during conversation. a levee of arab women in the tent was therefore a disagreeable invasion, as we dreaded the fugitives; fortunately, they appeared to cling to the followers of mahomet in preference to christians. the plague of lice brought upon the egyptians by moses has certainly adhered to the country ever since, if "lice" is the proper translation of the hebrew word in the old testament. it is my own opinion that the insects thus inflicted upon the population were not lice, but ticks. exod. : : "the dust became lice throughout all egypt;" again, exod. : : "smote dust... it became lice in man and beast." now the louse that infests the human body and hair has no connection whatever with "dust," and if subject to a few hours' exposure to the dry heat of the burning sand, it would shrivel and die. but the tick is an inhabitant of the dust, a dry horny insect without any apparent moisture in its composition; it lives in hot sand and dust, where it cannot possibly obtain nourishment, until some wretched animal lies down upon the spot, when it becomes covered with these horrible vermin. i have frequently seen dry desert places so infested with ticks that the ground was perfectly alive with them, and it would have been impossible to rest on the earth. in such spots, the passage in exodus has frequently occurred to me as bearing reference to these vermin, which are the greatest enemies to man and beast. it is well known that, from the size of a grain of sand in their natural state, they will distend to the size of a hazelnut after having preyed for some days upon the blood of an animal. the arabs are invariably infested with lice, not only in their hair, but upon their bodies and clothes; even the small charms or spells worn upon the arm in neatly-sewn leathern packets are full of these vermin. such spells are generally verses copied from the koran by the faky, or priest, who receives some small gratuity in exchange. the men wear several such talismans upon the arm above the elbow, but the women wear a large bunch of charms, as a sort of chatelaine, suspended beneath their clothes around the waist. although the tope or robe, loosely but gracefully arranged around the body, appears to be the whole of the costume, the women wear beneath this garment a thin blue cotton cloth tightly bound round the loins, which descends to a little above the knee; beneath this, next to the skin, is the last garment, the rahat. the latter is the only clothing of young girls, and may be either perfectly simple or adorned with beads and cowrie shells according to the fancy of the wearer. it is perfectly effective as a dress, and admirably adapted to the climate. the rahat is a fringe of fine dark brown or reddish twine, fastened to a belt, and worn round the waist. on either side are two long tassels, that are generally ornamented with beads or cowries, and dangle nearly to the ankles, while the rahat itself should descend to a little above the knee, or be rather shorter than a highland kilt. nothing can be prettier or more simple than this dress, which, although short, is of such thickly hanging fringe that it perfectly answers the purpose for which it is intended. many of the arab girls are remarkably good-looking, with fine figures until they become mothers. they generally marry at the age of thirteen or fourteen, but frequently at twelve or even earlier. until married, the rahat is their sole garment. throughout the arab tribes of upper egypt, chastity is a necessity, as an operation is performed at the early age of from three to five years that thoroughly protects all females and which renders them physically proof against incontinency. there is but little love-making among the arabs. the affair of matrimony usually commences by a present to the father of the girl, which, if accepted, is followed by a similar advance to the girl herself, and the arrangement is completed. all the friends of both parties are called together for the wedding; pistols and guns are fired off, if possessed. there is much feasting, and the unfortunate bridegroom undergoes the ordeal of whipping by the relatives of his bride, in order to test his courage. sometimes this punishment is exceedingly severe, being inflicted with the coorbatch or whip of hippopotamus hide, which is cracked vigorously about his ribs and back. if the happy husband wishes to be considered a man worth having, he must receive the chastisement with an expression of enjoyment; in which case the crowds of women again raise their thrilling cry in admiration. after the rejoicings of the day are over, the bride is led in the evening to the residence of her husband, while a beating of drums and strumming of guitars (rhababas) are kept up for some hours during the night, with the usual discordant singing. there is no divorce court among the arabs. they are not sufficiently advanced in civilization to accept a pecuniary fine as the price of a wife's dishonor; but a stroke of the husband's sword or a stab with the knife is generally the ready remedy for infidelity. although strict mahometans, the women are never veiled; neither do they adopt the excessive reserve assumed by the turks and egyptians. the arab women are generally idle, and one of the conditions of accepting a suitor is that a female slave is to be provided for the special use of the wife. no arab woman will engage herself as a domestic servant; thus, so long as their present customs shall remain unchanged, slaves are creatures of necessity. although the law of mahomet limits the number of wives for each man to four at one time, the arab women do not appear to restrict their husbands to this allowance, and the slaves of the establishment occupy the position of concubines. the arabs adhere strictly to their ancient customs, independently of the comparatively recent laws established by mahomet. thus, concubinage is not considered a breach of morality; neither is it regarded by the legitimate wives with jealousy. they attach great importance to the laws of moses and to the customs of their forefathers; neither can they understand the reason for a change of habit in any respect where necessity has not suggested the reform. the arabs are creatures of necessity; their nomadic life is compulsory, as the existence of their flocks and herds depends upon the pasturage. thus, with the change of seasons they must change their localities, according to the presence of fodder for their cattle. driven to and fro by the accidents of climate, the arab has been compelled to become a wanderer; and precisely as the wild beasts of the country are driven from place to place either by the arrival of the fly, the lack of pasturage, or by the want of water, even so must the flocks of the arab obey the law of necessity, in a country where the burning sun and total absence of rain for nine months of the year convert the green pastures into a sandy desert. the arab cannot halt on one spot longer than the pasturage will support his flocks; therefore his necessity is food for his beasts. the object of his life being fodder, he must wander in search of the ever-changing supply. his wants must be few, as the constant changes of encampment necessitate the transport of all his household goods; thus he reduces to a minimum the domestic furniture and utensils. no desires for strange and fresh objects excite his mind to improvement, or alter his original habits; he must limit his impedimenta, not increase them. thus with a few necessary articles he is contented. mats for his tent, ropes manufactured with the hair of his goats and camels, pots for carrying fat, water-jars and earthenware pots or gourd-shells for containing milk, leather water-skins for the desert, and sheep-skin bags for his clothes--these are the requirements of the arabs. their patterns have never changed, but the water-jar of to-day is of the same form as that carried to the well by the women of thousands of years ago. the conversation of the arabs is in the exact style of the old testament. the name of god is coupled with every trifling incident in life, and they believe in the continual action of divine special interference. should a famine afflict the country, it is expressed in the stern language of the bible--"the lord has sent a grievous famine upon the land;" or, "the lord called for a famine, and it came upon the land." should their cattle fall sick, it is considered to be an affliction by divine command; or should the flocks prosper and multiply particularly well during one season, the prosperity is attributed to special interference. nothing can happen in the usual routine of daily life without a direct connection with the hand of god, according to the arab's belief. this striking similarity to the descriptions of the old testament is exceedingly interesting to a traveller when residing among these curious and original people. with the bible in one hand, and these unchanged tribes before the eyes, there is a thrilling illustration of the sacred record; the past becomes the present; the veil of three thousand years is raised, and the living picture is a witness to the exactness of the historical description. at the same time there is a light thrown upon many obscure passages in the old testament by a knowledge of the present customs and figures of speech of the arabs, which are precisely those that were practised at the periods described. i do not attempt to enter upon a theological treatise, therefore it is unnecessary to allude specially to these particular points. the sudden and desolating arrival of a flight of locusts, the plague, or any other unforeseen calamity, is attributed to the anger of god, and is believed to be an infliction of punishment upon the people thus visited, precisely as the plagues of egypt were specially inflicted upon pharaoh and the egyptians. should the present history of the country be written by an arab scribe, the style of the description would be purely that of the old testament; and the various calamities or the good fortunes that have in the course of nature befallen both the tribes and individuals would be recounted either as special visitations of divine wrath or blessings for good deeds performed. if in a dream a particular course of action is suggested, the arab believes that god has spoken and directed him. the arab scribe or historian would describe the event as the "voice of the lord" ("kallam el allah"), having spoken unto the person; or, that god appeared to him in a dream and "said," etc. thus much allowance would be necessary on the part of a european reader for the figurative ideas and expressions of the people. as the arabs are unchanged, the theological opinions which they now hold are the same as those which prevailed in remote ages, with the simple addition of their belief in mahomet as the prophet. chapter iv. on the abyssinian border. a new school of medicine--sacred shrines and epidemics. we left the camp of abou sinn on the morning of july th, and in a few rapid marches arrived at tomat, a lovely spot at the junction of the atbara with the settite. the settite is the river par excellence, as it is the principal stream of abyssinia, in which country it bears the name of "tacazzy." above the junction the athara does not exceed two hundred yards in width. both rivers have scooped out deep and broad valleys throughout their course. this fact confirmed my first impression that the supply of soil had been brought down by the atbara to the nile. the country on the opposite or eastern bank of the atbara is contested ground. in reality it forms the western frontier of abyssinia, of which the atbara river is the boundary; but since the annexation of the nubian provinces to egypt there has been no safety for life or property upon the line of frontier; thus a large tract of country actually forming a portion of abyssinia is uninhabited. upon our arrival at sofi we were welcomed by the sheik, and by a german, florian, who was delighted to see europeans. he was a sallow, sickly-looking man, who with a large bony frame had been reduced from constant hard work and frequent sickness to little but skin and sinew. he was a mason, who had left germany with the austrian mission to khartoum, but finding the work too laborious in such a climate, he and a friend, who was a carpenter, had declared for independence, and they had left the mission. they were both enterprising fellows, and sportsmen; therefore they had purchased rifles and ammunition, and had commenced life as hunters. at the same time they employed their leisure hours in earning money by the work of their hands in various ways. i determined to arrange our winter quarters at sofi for three months' stay, during which i should have ample time to gain information and complete arrangements for the future. i accordingly succeeded in purchasing a remarkably neat house for ten piastres (two shillings). the architecture was of an ancient style, from the original design of a pill-box surmounted by a candle extinguisher. i purchased two additional huts, which were erected at the back of our mansion, one as the kitchen, the other as the servants' hall. in the course of a week we had as pretty a camp as robinson crusoe himself could have coveted. we had a view of about five miles in extent along the valley of the atbara, and it was my daily amusement to scan with my telescope the uninhabited country upon the opposite side of the river and watch the wild animals as they grazed in perfect security. we were thoroughly happy at sofi. there was a delightful calm and a sense of rest, a total estrangement from the cares of the world, and an enchanting contrast in the soft green verdure of the landscape before us, to the many hundred weary miles of burning desert through which we had toiled from lower egypt. time glided away smoothly until the fever invaded our camp. florian became seriously ill. my wife was prostrated by a severe attack of gastric fever, which for nine days rendered her recovery almost hopeless. then came the plague of boils, and soon after a species of intolerable itch, called the coorash. i adopted for this latter a specific i had found successful with the mange in dogs, namely, gunpowder, with one fourth sulphur added, made into a soft paste with water, and then formed into an ointment with fat. it worked like a charm with the coorash. faith is the drug that is supposed to cure the arab; whatever his complaint may be, he applies to his faky or priest. this minister is not troubled with a confusion of book-learning, neither are the shelves of his library bending beneath weighty treatises upon the various maladies of human nature; but he possesses the key to all learning, the talisman that will apply to all cases, in that one holy book, the koran. this is his complete pharmacopoeia: his medicine chest, combining purgatives, blisters, sudorifies, styptics, narcotics, emetics, and all that the most profound m.d. could prescribe. with this "multum in parvo" stock-in-trade the faky receives his patients. no. arrives, a barren woman who requests some medicine that will promote the blessing of childbirth. no. , a man who was strong in his youth, but from excessive dissipation has become useless. no. , a man deformed from his birth, who wishes to become straight as other men. no. , a blind child. no. , a dying old woman, carried on a litter; and sundry other impossible cases, with others of a more simple character. the faky produces his book, the holy koran, and with a pen formed of a reed he proceeds to write a prescription--not to be made up by an apothecary, as such dangerous people do not exist; but the prescription itself is to be swallowed! upon a smooth board, like a slate, he rubs sufficient lime to produce a perfectly white surface; upon this he writes in large characters, with thick glutinous ink, a verse or verses from the koran that he considers applicable to the case; this completed, he washes off the holy quotation, and converts it into a potation by the addition of a little water; this is swallowed in perfect faith by the patient, who in return pays a fee according to the demand of the faky. as few people can read or write, there is an air of mystery in the art of writing which much enhances the value of a scrap of paper upon which is written a verse from the koran. a few piastres are willingly expended in the purchase of such talismans, which are carefully and very neatly sewn into small envelopes of leather, and are worn by all people, being handed down from father to son. the arabs are especially fond of relics; thus, upon the return from a pilgrimage to mecca, the "hadji" or pilgrim is certain to have purchased from some religious faky of the sacred shrine either a few square inches of cloth, or some such trifle, that belonged to the prophet mahomet. this is exhibited to his friends and strangers as a wonderful spell against some particular malady, and it is handed about and received with extreme reverence by the assembled crowd. i once formed one of a circle when a pilgrim returned to his native village. we sat in a considerable number upon the ground, while he drew from his bosom a leather envelope, suspended from his neck, from which he produced a piece of extremely greasy woollen cloth, about three inches square, the original color of which it would have been impossible to guess. this was a piece of mahomet's garment, but what portion he could not say. the pilgrim had paid largely for this blessed relic, and it was passed round our circle from hand to hand, after having first been kissed by the proprietor, who raised it to the crown of his head, which he touched with the cloth, and then wiped both his eyes. each person who received it went through a similar performance, and as ophthalmia and other diseases of the eyes were extremely prevalent, several of the party had eyes that had not the brightness of the gazelle's; nevertheless, these were supposed to become brighter after having been wiped by the holy cloth. how many eyes this same piece of cloth had wiped, it would be impossible to say, but such facts are sufficient to prove the danger of holy relics, that are inoculators of all manner of contagious diseases. i believe in holy shrines as the pest spots of the world. we generally have experienced in western europe that all violent epidemics arrive from the east. the great breadth of the atlantic boundary would naturally protect us from the west, but infectious disorders, such as plague, cholera, small-pox, etc., may be generally tracked throughout their gradations from their original nests. those nests are in the east, where the heat of the climate acting upon the filth of semi-savage communities engenders pestilence. the holy places of both christians and mahometans are the receptacles for the masses of people of all nations and classes who have arrived from all points of the compass. the greater number of such people are of poor estate, and many have toiled on foot from immense distances, suffering from hunger and fatigue, and bringing with them not only the diseases of their own remote counties, but arriving in that weak state that courts the attack of any epidemic. thus crowded together, with a scarcity of provisions, a want of water, and no possibility of cleanliness, with clothes that have been unwashed for weeks or months, in a camp of dirty pilgrims, without any attempt at drainage, an accumulation of filth takes place that generates either cholera or typhus; the latter, in its most malignant form, appears as the dreaded "plague." should such an epidemic attack the mass of pilgrims debilitated by the want of nourishing food, and exhausted by their fatiguing march, it runs riot like a fire among combustibles, and the loss of life is terrific. the survivors radiate from this common centre, upon their return to their respective homes, to which they carry the seeds of the pestilence to germinate upon new soils in different countries. doubtless the clothes of the dead furnish materials for innumerable holy relics as vestiges of the wardrobe of the prophet. these are disseminated by the pilgrims throughout all countries, pregnant with disease; and, being brought into personal contact with hosts of true believers, pandora's box could not be more fatal. not only are relics upon a pocket scale conveyed by pilgrims and reverenced by the arabs, but the body of any faky who in lifetime was considered unusually holy is brought from a great distance to be interred in some particular spot. in countries where a tree is a rarity, a plank for a coffin is unknown; thus the reverend faky, who may have died of typhus, is wrapped in cloths and packed in a mat. in this form he is transported, perhaps some hundred miles, slung upon a camel, with the thermometer above degrees fah. in the sun, and he is conveyed to the village that is so fortunate as to be honored with his remains. it may be readily imagined that with a favorable wind the inhabitants are warned of his approach some time before his arrival. happily, long before we arrived at sofi, the village had been blessed by the death of a celebrated faky, a holy man who would have been described as a second isaiah were the annals of the country duly chronicled. this great "man of god," as he was termed, had departed this life at a village on the borders of the nile, about eight days' hard camel-journey from sofi; but from some assumed right, mingled no doubt with jobbery, the inhabitants of sofi had laid claim to his body, and he had arrived upon a camel horizontally, and had been buried about fifty yards from the site of our camp. his grave was beneath a clump of mimosas that shaded the spot, and formed the most prominent object in the foreground of our landscape. thither every friday the women of the village congregated, with offerings of a few handfuls of dhurra in small gourd-shells, which they laid upon the grave, while they ate the holy earth in small pinches, which they scraped like rabbits, from a hole they had burrowed toward the venerated corpse. this hole was about two feet deep from continual scratching, and must have been very near the faky. although thus reverent in their worship, the arab's religion is a sort of adjustable one. the wild boar, for instance, is invariably eaten by the arab hunters, although in direct opposition to the rules of the koran. i once asked them what their faky would say if he were aware of such a transgression. "oh!" they replied, "we have already asked his permission, as we are sometimes severely pressed for food in the jungles. he says, `if you have the koran in your hand and no pig, you are forbidden to eat pork; but if you have the pig in your hand and no koran, you had better eat what god has given you.'" chapter v. a primitive craft--stalking the giraffes--my first giraffes--rare sport with the finny tribe--thieving elephants. for many days, while at sofi, we saw large herds of giraffes and antelopes on the opposite side of the river, about two miles distant. on september d a herd of twenty-eight giraffes tempted me at all hazards to cross the river. so we prepared an impromptu raft. my angarep (bedstead) was quickly inverted. six water-skins were inflated, and lashed, three on either side. a shallow packing-case, lined with tin, containing my gun, was fastened in the centre of the angarep, and two towlines were attached to the front part of the raft, by which swimmers were to draw it across the river. two men were to hang on behind, and, if possible, keep it straight in the rapid current. after some difficulty we arrived at the opposite bank, and scrambled through thick bushes, upon our hands and knees, to the summit. for about two miles' breadth on this side of the river the valley was rough broken ground, full of gullies and ravines sixty or seventy feet deep, beds of torrents, bare sandstone rocks, bushy crags, fine grassy knolls, and long strips of mimosa covert, forming a most perfect locality for shooting. i had observed by the telescope that the giraffes were standing as usual upon an elevated position, from whence they could keep a good lookout. i knew it would be useless to ascend the slope directly, as their long necks give these animals an advantage similar to that of the man at the masthead; therefore, although we had the wind in our favor, we should have been observed. i accordingly determined to make a great circuit of about five miles, and thus to approach them from above, with the advantage of the broken ground for stalking. it was the perfection of uneven country. by clambering up broken cliffs, wading shoulder-deep through muddy gullies, sliding down the steep ravines, and winding through narrow bottoms of high grass and mimosas for about two hours, we at length arrived at the point of the high table-land upon the verge of which i had first noticed the giraffes with the telescope. almost immediately i distinguished the tall neck of one of these splendid animals about half a mile distant upon my left, a little below the table-land; it was feeding on the bushes, and i quickly discovered several others near the leader of the herd. i was not far enough advanced in the circuit that i had intended to bring me exactly above them, therefore i turned sharp to my right, intending to make a short half circle, and to arrive on the leeward side of the herd, as i was now to windward. this i fortunately completed, but i had marked a thick bush as my point of cover, and upon arrival i found that the herd had fed down wind, and that i was within two hundred yards of the great bull sentinel that, having moved from his former position, was now standing directly before me. i lay down quietly behind the bush with my two followers, and anxiously watched the great leader, momentarily expecting that it would get my wind. it was shortly joined by two others, and i perceived the heads of several giraffes lower down the incline, that were now feeding on their way to the higher ground. the seroot fly was teasing them, and i remarked that several birds were fluttering about their heads, sometimes perching upon their noses and catching the fly that attacked their nostrils, while the giraffes appeared relieved by their attentions. these birds were of a peculiar species that attacks the domestic animals, and not only relieves them of vermin, but eats into the flesh and establishes dangerous sores. a puff of wind now gently fanned the back of my neck; it was cool and delightful, but no sooner did i feel the refreshing breeze than i knew it would convey our scent directly to the giraffes. a few seconds afterward the three grand obelisks threw their heads still higher in the air, and fixing their great black eyes upon the spot from which the warning came, they remained as motionless as though carved from stone. from their great height they could see over the bush behind which we were lying at some paces distant, and although i do not think they could distinguish us to be men, they could see enough to convince them of hidden enemies. the attitude of fixed attention and surprise of the three giraffes was sufficient warning for the rest of the herd, who immediately filed up from the lower ground, and joined their comrades. all now halted and gazed steadfastly in our direction, forming a superb tableau, their beautiful mottled skins glancing like the summer coat of a thoroughbred horse, the orange-colored statues standing out in high relief from a background of dark-green mimosas. this beautiful picture soon changed. i knew that my chance of a close shot was hopeless, as they would presently make a rush and be off; thus i determined to get the first start. i had previously studied the ground, and i concluded that they would push forward at right angles with my position, as they had thus ascended the hill, and that, on reaching the higher ground, they would turn to the right, in order to reach an immense tract of high grass, as level as a billiard-table, from which no danger could approach them unobserved. i accordingly with a gentle movement of my hand directed my people to follow me, and i made a sudden rush forward at full speed. off went the herd, shambling along at a tremendous pace, whisking their long tails above their hind quarters, and, taking exactly the direction i had anticipated, they offered me a shoulder shot at a little within two hundred yards' distance. unfortunately, i fell into a deep hole concealed by the high grass, and by the time that i resumed the hunt they had increased their distance; but i observed the leader turned sharply to the right, through some low mimosa bush, to make directly for the open table-land. i made a short cut obliquely at my best speed, and only halted when i saw that i should lose ground by altering my position. stopping short, i was exactly opposite the herd as they filed by me at right angles in full speed, within about a hundred and eighty yards. i had my old ceylon no. double rifle, and i took a steady shot at a large dark-colored bull. the satisfactory sound of the ball upon his hide was followed almost immediately by his blundering forward for about twenty yards and falling heavily in the low bush. i heard the crack of the ball of my left-hand barrel upon another fine beast, but no effects followed. bacheet quickly gave me the single two-ounce manton rifle, and i singled out a fine dark-colored bull, who fell on his knees to the shot, but, recovering, hobbled off disabled, apart from the herd, with a foreleg broken just below the shoulder. reloading immediately, i ran up to the spot, where i found my first giraffe lying dead, with the ball clean through both shoulders. the second was standing about one hundred paces distant. upon my approach he attempted to move, but immediately fell, and was despatched by my eager arabs. i followed the herd for about a mile to no purpose, through deep clammy ground and high grass, and i returned to our game. these were my first giraffes, and i admired them as they lay before me with a hunter's pride and satisfaction, but mingled with a feeling of pity for such beautiful and utterly helpless creatures. the giraffe, although from sixteen to twenty feet in height, is perfectly defenceless, and can only trust to the swiftness of its pace and the extraordinary power of vision, for its means of protection. the eye of this animal is the most beautiful exaggeration of that of the gazelle, while the color of the reddish-orange hide, mottled with darker spots, changes the tints of the skin with the differing rays of light, according to the muscular movement of the body. no one who has merely seen the giraffe in a cold climate can form the least idea of its beauty in its native land. life at sofi was becoming sadly monotonous, and i determined to move my party across the river to camp on the uninhabited side. the rains had almost ceased, so we should be able to live in a tent by night, and to form a shady nook beneath some mimosas by day. on the th of september the entire male population of sofi turned out to assist us across the river. i had arranged a raft by attaching eight inflated skins to the bedstead, upon which i lashed our large circular sponging bath. four hippopotami hunters were harnessed as tug steamers. by evening all our party, with the baggage, had effected the crossing without accident--all but achmet, mahomet's mother's brother's cousin's sister's mother's son, who took advantage of his near relative, when the latter was in the middle of the stream, and ran off with most of his personal effects. the life at our new camp was charmingly independent. we were upon abyssinian territory, but as the country was uninhabited we considered it as our own. our camp was near the mouth of a small stream, the till, tributary to the atbara, which afforded some excellent sport in fishing. choosing one day a fish of about half a pound for bait, i dropped this in the river about twenty yards beyond the mouth of the till, and allowed it to swim naturally down the stream so as to pass across the till junction, and descend the deep channel between the rocks. for about ten minutes i had no run. i had twice tried the same water without success; nothing would admire my charming bait; when, just as it had reached the favorite turning-point at the extremity of a rock, away dashed the line, with the tremendous rush that follows the attack of a heavy fish. trusting to the soundness of my tackle, i struck hard and fixed my new acquaintance thoroughly, but off he dashed down the stream for about fifty yards at one rush, making for a narrow channel between two rocks, through which the stream ran like a mill-race. should he pass this channel, i knew he would cut the line across the rock; therefore, giving him the butt, i held him by main force, and by the great swirl in the water i saw that i was bringing him to the surface; but just as i expected to see him, my float having already appeared, away he darted in another direction, taking sixty or seventy yards of line without a check. i at once observed that he must pass a shallow sandbank favorable for landing a heavy fish; i therefore checked him as he reached this spot, and i followed him down the bank, reeling up line as i ran parallel with his course. now came the tug of war! i knew my hooks were good and the line sound, therefore i was determined not to let him escape beyond the favorable ground; and i put upon him a strain that, after much struggling, brought to the surface a great shovel-head, followed by a pair of broad silvery sides, as i led him gradually into shallow water. bacheet now cleverly secured him by the gills, and dragged him in triumph to the shore. this was a splendid bayard, of at least forty pounds' weight. i laid my prize upon some green reeds, and covered it carefully with the same cool material. i then replaced my bait by a lively fish, and once more tried the river. in a very short time i had another run, and landed a small fish of about nine pounds, of the same species. not wishing to catch fish of that size, i put on a large bait, and threw it about forty yards into the river, well up the stream, and allowed the float to sweep the water in a half circle, thus taking the chance of different distances from the shore. for about half an hour nothing moved. i was just preparing to alter my position, when out rushed my line, and, striking hard, i believed i fixed the old gentleman himself, for i had no control over him whatever. holding him was out of the question; the line flew through my hands, cutting them till the blood flowed, and i was obliged to let the fish take his own way. this he did for about eighty yards, when he suddenly stopped. this unexpected halt was a great calamity, for the reel overran itself, having no checkwheel, and the slack bends of the line caught the handle just as he again rushed forward, and with a jerk that nearly pulled the rod from my hands he was gone! i found one of my large hooks broken short off. the fish was a monster! after this bad luck i had no run until the evening, when, putting on a large bait, and fishing at the tail of a rock between the stream and still water, i once more had a fine rush, and hooked a big one. there were no rocks down stream, all was fair play and clear water, and away he went at racing pace straight for the middle of the river. to check the pace i grasped the line with the stuff of my loose trousers, and pressed it between my fingers so as to act as a brake and compel him to labor for every yard; but he pulled like a horse, and nearly cut through the thick cotton cloth, making straight running for at least a hundred yards without a halt. i now put so severe a strain upon him that my strong bamboo bent nearly double, and the fish presently so far yielded to the pressure that i could enforce his running in half circles instead of straight away. i kept gaining line until i at length led him into a shallow bay, and after a great fight bacheet embraced him by falling upon him and clutching the monster with hands and knees; he then tugged to the shore a magnificent fish of upward of sixty pounds. for about twenty minutes lie had fought against such a strain as i had never before used upon a fish; but i had now adopted hooks of such a large size and thickness that it was hardly possible for them to break, unless snapped by a crocodile. my reel was so loosened from the rod, that had the struggle lasted a few minutes longer i must have been vanquished. this fish measured three feet eight inches to the root of the tail, and two feet three inches in girth of shoulders; the head measured one foot ten inches in circumference. it was of the same species as those i had already caught. over a month was passed at our camp, ehetilla, as we called it. the time passed in hunting, fishing, and observing the country, but it was for the most part uneventful. in the end of october we removed to a village called wat el negur, nine miles south-east of ehetilla, still on the bank of the atbara. our arrival was welcomed with enthusiasm. the arabs here had extensive plantations of sesame, dhurra, and cotton, and the nights were spent in watching them, to scare away the elephants, which, with extreme cunning, invaded the fields of dhurra at different points every night, and retreated before morning to the thick, thorny jungles of the settite. the arabs were without firearms, and the celebrated aggageers or sword-hunters were useless, as the elephants appeared only at night, and were far too cunning to give them a chance. i was importuned to drive away the elephants, and one evening, about nine o'clock, i arrived at the plantations with three men carrying spare guns. we had not been half an hour in the dhurra fields before we met a couple of arab watchers, who informed us that a herd of elephants was already in the plantation; we accordingly followed our guides. in about a quarter of an hour we distinctly heard the cracking of the dhurra stems, as the elephants browsed and trampled them beneath their feet. taking the proper position of the wind, i led our party cautiously in the direction of the sound, and in about five minutes i came in view of the slate-colored and dusky forms of the herd. the moon was bright, and i counted nine elephants; they had trampled a space of about fifty yards square into a barren level, and they were now slowly moving forward, feeding as they went. one elephant, unfortunately, was separated from the herd, and was about forty yards in the rear; this fellow i was afraid would render our approach difficult. cautioning my men, especially bacheet, to keep close to me with the spare rifles, i crept along the alleys formed by the tall rows of dhurra, and after carefully stalking against the wind, i felt sure that it would be necessary to kill the single elephant before i should be able to attack the herd. accordingly i crept nearer and nearer, well concealed in the favorable crop of high and sheltering stems, until i was within fifteen yards of the hindmost animal. as i had never shot one of the african species, i was determined to follow the ceylon plan, and get as near as possible; therefore i continued to creep from row to row of dhurra, until i at length stood at the very tail of the elephant in the next row. i could easily have touched it with my rifle, but just at this moment it either obtained my wind or it heard the rustle of the men. it quickly turned its head half round toward me; in the same instant i took the temple-shot, and by the flash of the rifle i saw that it fell. jumping forward past the huge body, i fired the left-hand barrel at an elephant that had advanced from the herd; it fell immediately! now came the moment for a grand rush, as they stumbled in confusion over the last fallen elephant, and jammed together in a dense mass with their immense ears outspread, forming a picture of intense astonishment! where were my spare guns? here was an excellent opportunity to run in and floor them right and left! not a man was in sight! everybody had bolted, and i stood in advance of the dead elephant calling for my guns in vain. at length one of my fellows came up, but it was too late. the fallen elephant in the herd had risen from the ground, and they had all hustled off at a great pace, and were gone. i had only bagged one elephant. where was the valiant bacheet--the would-be nimrod, who for the last three months had been fretting in inactivity, and longing for the moment of action, when he had promised to be my trusty gun-bearer? he was the last man to appear, and he only ventured from his hiding-place in the high dhurra when assured of the elephants' retreat. i was obliged to admonish the whole party by a little physical treatment, and the gallant bacheet returned with us to the village, crestfallen and completely subdued. on the following day not a vestige remained of the elephant, except the offal; the arabs had not only cut off the flesh, but they had hacked the skull and the bones in pieces, and carried them off to boil down for soup. chapter vi. preparations for advance--mek nimmur makes a foray--the hamran elephant-hunters--in the haunts of the elephant--a desperate charge. the time was approaching when the grass throughout the country would be sufficiently dry to be fired. we accordingly prepared for our expedition; but it was first necessary for me to go to katariff, sixty miles distant, to engage men, and to procure a slave in place of old masara, whose owner would not trust her in the wild region we were about to visit. i engaged six strong tokrooris for five months, and purchased a slave woman for thirty-five dollars. the name of the woman was barrake. she was about twenty-two years of age, brown in complexion, fat and strong, rather tall, and altogether she was a fine, powerful-looking woman, but decidedly not pretty. her hair was elaborately dressed in hundreds of long narrow curls, so thickly smeared with castor oil that the grease had covered her naked shoulders. in addition to this, as she had been recently under the hands of the hairdresser, there was an amount of fat and other nastiness upon her head that gave her the appearance of being nearly gray. through the medium of mahomet i explained to her that she was no longer a slave, as i had purchased her freedom; that she would not even be compelled to remain with us, but she could do as she thought proper; that both her mistress and i should be exceedingly kind to her, and we would subsequently find her a good situation in cairo; in the mean time she would receive good clothes and wages. this, mahomet, much against his will, was obliged to translate literally. the effect was magical; the woman, who had looked frightened and unhappy, suddenly beamed with smiles, and without any warning she ran toward me, and in an instant i found myself embraced in her loving arms. she pressed me to her bosom, and smothered me with castor-oily kisses, while her greasy ringlets hung upon my face and neck. how long this entertainment would have lasted i cannot tell, but i was obliged to cry "caffa! caffa!" (enough! enough!) as it looked improper, and the perfumery was too rich. fortunately my wife was present, but she did not appear to enjoy it more than i did. my snow-white blouse was soiled and greasy, and for the rest of the day i was a disagreeable compound of smells--castor oil, tallow, musk, sandal-wood, burnt shells, and barrake. mahomet and barrake herself, i believe, were the only people who really enjoyed this little event. "ha!" mahomet exclaimed, "this is your own fault! you insisted upon speaking kindly, and telling her that she is not a slave; now she thinks that she is one of your wives!" this was the real fact; the unfortunate ** barrake ** had deceived herself. never having been free, she could not understand the use of freedom unless she was to be a wife. she had understood my little address as a proposal, and of course she was disappointed; but as an action for breach of promise cannot be pressed in the soudan, poor barrake, although free, had not the happy rights of a free-born englishwoman, who can heal her broken heart with a pecuniary plaster, and console herself with damages for the loss of a lover. we were ready to start, having our party of servants complete, six tokrooris--moosa, abdoolahi, abderachman, hassan, adow, and hadji ali, with mahomet, wat gamma, bacheet, mahomet secundus (a groom), and barrake; total, eleven men and the cook. when half way on our return from katariff to wat el negur, we found the whole country in alarm, mek nimmur having suddenly made a foray. he had crossed the atbara, plundered the district, and driven off large numbers of cattle and camels, after having killed a considerable number of people. no doubt the reports were somewhat exaggerated, but the inhabitants of the district were flying from their villages with their herds, and were flocking to katariff. we arrived at wat el negur on the d of december, and we now felt the advantage of our friendship with the good sheik achmet, who, being a friend of mek nimmur, had saved our effects during our absence. these would otherwise have been plundered, as the robbers had paid him a visit. he had removed our tents and baggage to his own house for protection. not only had he thus protected our effects, but he had taken the opportunity of delivering the polite message to mek nimmur that i had entrusted to his charge--expressing a wish to pay him a visit as a countryman and friend of mr. mansfield parkyns, who had formerly been so well received by his father. my intention was to examine thoroughly all the great rivers of abyssinia that were tributaries to the nile. these were the settite, royan, angrab, salaam, rahad, dinder, and the blue nile. if possible, i should traverse the galla country, and crossing the blue nile, i should endeavor to reach the white nile. but this latter idea i subsequently found impracticable, as it would have interfered with the proper season for my projected journey up the white nile in search of the sources. the hamran arabs were at this time encamped about twenty-five miles from wat el negur. i sent a messenger, accompanied by mahomet, to the sheik, with the firman of the viceroy, requesting him to supply me with elephant hunters (aggageers). during the absence of mahomet i received a very polite message from mek nimmur, accompanied by a present of twenty pounds of coffee, with an invitation to pay him a visit. his country lay between the settite river and the bahr salaam; thus without his invitation i might have found it difficult to traverse his territory. so far all went well. i returned my salaams, and sent word that we intended to hunt through the ** base ** country, after which we should have the honor of passing a few days with him on our road to the river salaam, at which place we intended to hunt elephants and rhinoceroses. mahomet returned, accompanied by a large party of hamran arabs, including several hunters, one of whom was sheik abou do roussoul, the nephew of sheik owat. as his name in full was too long, he generally went by the abbreviation "abou do." he was a splendid fellow, a little above six feet one, with a light active figure, but exceedingly well-developed muscles. his face was strikingly handsome; his eyes were like those of a giraffe, but the sudden glance of an eagle lighted them up with a flash during the excitement of conversation, which showed little of the giraffe's gentle character. abou do was the only tall man of the party; the others were of middle height, with the exception of a little fellow named jali, who was not above five feet four inches, but wonderfully muscular, and in expression a regular daredevil. there were two parties of hunters among the hamran arabs, one under abou do, and the other consisting of four brothers sherrif. the latter were the most celebrated aggageers among the renowned tribe of the hamran. their father and grandfather had been mighty nimrods, and the broadswords wielded by their strong arms had descended to the men who now upheld the prestige of the ancient blades. the eldest was taher sherrif. his second brother, roder sherrif, was a very small, active-looking man, with a withered left arm. an elephant had at one time killed his horse, and on the same occasion had driven its sharp tusk through the arm of the rider, completely splitting the limb, and splintering the bone from the elbow-joint to the wrist to such an extent that by degrees the fragments had sloughed away, and the arm had become shrivelled and withered. it now resembled a mass of dried leather twisted into a deformity, without the slightest shape of an arm; this was about fourteen inches in length from the shoulder. the stiff and crippled hand, with contracted fingers, resembled the claw of a vulture. in spite of his maimed condition, roder sherrif was the most celebrated leader in the elephant hunt. his was the dangerous post to ride close to the head of the infuriated animal and provoke the charge, and then to lead the elephant in pursuit, while the aggageers attacked it from behind. it was in the performance of this duty that he had met with the accident, as his horse had fallen over some hidden obstacle and was immediately caught. being an exceedingly light weight he had continued to occupy this important position in the hunt, and the rigid fingers of the left hand served as a hook, upon which he could hang the reins. my battery of rifles was now laid upon a mat for examination; they were in beautiful condition, and they excited the admiration of the entire party. the perfection of workmanship did not appear to interest them so much as the size of the bores. they thrust their fingers down each muzzle, until they at last came to the "baby," when, finding that two fingers could be easily introduced, they at once fell in love with that rifle in particular. on the th of august, accompanied by the german, florian, we said good-by to our kind friend sheik achmet and left wat el negur. at geera, early at daybreak, several arabs arrived with a report that elephants had been drinking in the river within half an hour's march of our sleeping-place. i immediately started with my men, accompanied by florian, and we shortly arrived upon the tracks of the herd. i had three hamran arabs as trackers, one of whom, taher noor, had engaged to accompany us throughout the expedition. for about eight miles we followed the spoor through high dried grass and thorny bush, until we at length arrived at a dense jungle of kittar--the most formidable of the hooked thorn mimosas. here the tracks appeared to wander, some elephants having travelled straight ahead, while others had strayed to the right and left. for about two hours we travelled upon the circuitous tracks of the elephants to no purpose, when we suddenly were startled by the shrill trumpeting of one of these animals in the thick thorns, a few hundred yards to our left. the ground was so intensely hard and dry that it was impossible to distinguish the new tracks from the old, which crossed and recrossed in all directions. i therefore decided to walk carefully along the outskirts of the jungle, trusting to find their place of entrance by the fresh broken boughs. in about an hour we had thus examined two or three miles, without discovering a clew to their recent path, when we turned round a clump of bushes, and suddenly came in view of two grand elephants, standing at the edge of the dense thorns. having our wind, they vanished instantly into the thick jungle. we could not follow them, as their course was down wind; we therefore made a circuit to leeward for about a mile, and finding that the elephants had not crossed in that direction, we felt sure that we must come upon them with the wind in our favor should they still be within the thorny jungle. this was certain, as it was their favorite retreat. with the greatest labor i led the way, creeping frequently upon my hands and knees to avoid the hooks of the kittar bush, and occasionally listening for a sound. at length, after upward of an hour passed in this slow and fatiguing advance, i distinctly heard the flap of an elephant's ear, shortly followed by the deep guttural sigh of one of those animals, within a few paces; but so dense was the screen of jungle that i could see nothing. we waited for some minutes, but not the slightest sound could be heard; the elephants were aware of danger, and they were, like ourselves, listening attentively for the first intimation of an enemy. this was a highly exciting moment. should they charge, there would not be a possibility of escape, as the hooked thorns rendered any sudden movement almost impracticable. in another moment there was a tremendous crash; and with a sound like a whirlwind the herd dashed through the crackling jungle. i rushed forward, as i was uncertain whether they were in advance or retreat. leaving a small sample of my nose upon a kittar thorn, and tearing my way, with naked arms, through what, in cold blood, would have appeared impassable, i caught sight of two elephants leading across my path, with the herd following in a dense mass behind them. firing a shot at the leading elephant, simply in the endeavor to check the herd, i repeated with the left-hand barrel at the head of his companion. this staggered him, and threw the main body into confusion. they immediately closed up in a dense mass, and bore everything before them; but the herd exhibited merely an impenetrable array of hind quarters wedged together so firmly that it was impossible to obtain a head or shoulder shot. i was within fifteen paces of them, and so compactly were they packed that with all their immense strength they could not at once force so extensive a front through the tough and powerful branches of the dense kittar. for about half a minute they were absolutely checked, and they bored forward with all their might in their determination to open a road through the matted thorns. the elastic boughs, bent from their position, sprang back with dangerous force, and would have fractured the skull of any one who came within their sweep. a very large elephant was on the left flank, and for an instant he turned obliquely to the left. i quickly seized the opportunity and fired the "baby," with an explosive shell, aimed far back in the flank, trusting that it would penetrate beneath the opposite shoulder. the recoil of the "baby," loaded with ten drams of the strongest powder and a half-pound shell, spun me round like a top. it was difficult to say which was staggered the more severely, the elephant or myself. however, we both recovered, and i seized one of my double rifles, a reilly no. , that was quickly pushed into my hand by my tokroori, hadji ali. this was done just in time, as an elephant from the battled herd turned sharp round, and, with its immense ears cocked, charged down upon us with a scream of rage. "one of us she must have if i miss!" this was the first downright charge of an african elephant that i had seen, and instinctively i followed my old ceylon plan of waiting for a close shot. she lowered her head when within about six yards, and i fired low for the centre of the forehead, exactly in the swelling above the root of the trunk. she collapsed to the shot, and fell dead, with a heavy shock, upon the ground. at the same moment the thorny barrier gave way before the pressure of the herd, and the elephants disappeared in the thick jungle, through which it was impossible to follow them. i had suffered terribly from the hooked thorns, and the men had likewise. this had been a capital trial for my tokrooris, who had behaved remarkably well, and had gained much confidence by my successful forehead-shot at the elephant when in full charge; but i must confess that this is the only instance in which i have succeeded in killing an african elephant by the front shot, although i have steadily tried the experiment upon subsequent occasions. we had very little time to examine the elephant, as we were far from home and the sun was already low. i felt convinced that the other elephant could not be far off, after having received the "baby's" half-pound shell carefully directed, and i resolved to return on the following morning with many people and camels to divide the flesh. it was dark by the time we arrived at the tents, and the news immediately spread through the arab camp that two elephants had been killed. on the following morning we started, and upon arrival at the dead elephant we followed the tracks of that wounded by the "baby." the blood upon the bushes guided us in a few minutes to the spot where the elephant lay dead, at about three hundred yards' distance. the whole day passed in flaying the two animals and cutting off the flesh, which was packed in large gum sacks, with which the camels were loaded. i was curious to examine the effect of the half-pound shell. it had entered the flank on the right side, breaking the rib upon which it had exploded; it had then passed through the stomach and the lower portion of the lungs, both of which were terribly shattered; and breaking one of the fore-ribs on the left side, it had lodged beneath the skin of the shoulder. this was irresistible work, and the elephant had evidently dropped in a few minutes after having received the shell. a most interesting fact had occurred. i noticed an old wound unhealed and full of matter in the front of the left shoulder. the bowels were shot through, and were green in various places. florian suggested that it must be an elephant that i had wounded at wat el negur; we tracked the course of the bullet most carefully, until we at length discovered my unmistakable bullet of quicksilver and lead, almost uninjured, in the fleshy part of the thigh, imbedded in an unhealed wound. thus, by a curious chance, upon my first interview with african elephants by daylight, i had killed the identical elephant that i had wounded at wat el negur forty-three days before in the dhurra plantation, twenty-eight miles distant! chapter vii. the start from geera--feats of horsemanship--a curious chase--abou do wins a race--capturing a young buffalo--our island camp--tales of the base. we started from geera on the d of december, with our party complete. the hamran sword-hunters were abou do, jali, and suleiman. my chief tracker was taher noor, who, although a good hunter, was not a professional aggahr, and i was accompanied by the father of abou do, who was a renowned "howarti" or harpooner of hippopotami. this magnificent old man might have been neptune himself. he stood about six feet two, and his grizzled locks hung upon his shoulders in thick, and massive curls, while his deep bronze features could not have been excelled in beauty of outline. a more classical figure i have never beheld than the old abou do with his harpoon as he first breasted the torrent, and then landed dripping from the waves to join our party from the arab camp on the opposite side of the river. in addition to my tokrooris, i had engaged nine camels, each with a separate driver, of the hamrans, who were to accompany us throughout the expedition. these people were glad to engage themselves, with their camels included, at one and a half dollars per month, for man and beast as one. we had not sufficient baggage to load five camels, but four carried a large supply of corn for our horses and people. hardly were we mounted and fairly started than the monkey-like agility of our aggageers was displayed in a variety of antics, that were far more suited to performances in a circus than to a party of steady and experienced hunters, who wished to reserve the strength of their horses for a trying journey. abou do was mounted on a beautiful abyssinian horse, a gray; suleiman rode a rough and inferior-looking beast; while little jali, who was the pet of the party, rode a gray snare, not exceeding fourteen hands in height, which matched her rider exactly in fire, spirit, and speed. never was there a more perfect picture of a wild arab horseman than jali on his mare. hardly was he in the saddle than away flew the mare over the loose shingles that formed the dry bed of the river, scattering the rounded pebbles in the air from her flinty hoofs, while her rider in the vigour of delight threw himself almost under her belly while at full speed, and picked up stones from the ground, which he flung, and again caught as they descended. never were there more complete centaurs than these hamran arabs; the horse and man appeared to be one animal, and that of the most elastic nature, that could twist and turn with the suppleness of a snake. the fact of their being separate beings was well proved, however, by the rider's springing to the earth with his drawn sword while the horse was in full gallop over rough and difficult ground, and, clutching the mane, again vaulting into the saddle with the ability of a monkey, without once checking the speed. the fact of being on horseback had suddenly altered the character of these arabs; from a sedate and proud bearing, they had become the wildest examples of the most savage disciples of nimrod. excited by enthusiasm, they shook their naked blades aloft till the steel trembled in their grasp, and away they dashed over rocks, through thorny bush, across ravines, up and down steep inclinations, engaging in a mimic hunt, and going through the various acts supposed to occur in the attack of a furious elephant. i must acknowledge that, in spite of my admiration for their wonderful dexterity, i began to doubt their prudence. i had three excellent horses for my wife and myself; the hamran hunters had only one for each, and if the commencement were an example of their usual style of horsemanship, i felt sure that a dozen horses would not be sufficient for the work before us. however, it was not the moment to offer advice, as they were simply mad with excitement and delight. the women raised their loud and shrill yell at parting, and our party of about twenty-five persons, with nine camels, six horses, and two donkeys, exclusive of the german, florian, with his kicking giraffe-hunter, and attendants, ascended the broken slope that formed the broad valley of the settite river. there was very little game in the neighbourhood, as it was completely overrun by the arabs and their flocks, and we were to march about fifty miles east-south-east before we should arrive in the happy hunting-grounds of the base country, where we were led to expect great results. in a day's march through a beautiful country, sometimes upon the high table-land to cut off a bend in the river, at other times upon the margin of the stream in the romantic valley, broken into countless hills and ravines covered with mimosas, we arrived at ombrega (mother of the thorn), about twenty-four miles from geera. we soon arranged a resting-place, and cleared away the grass that produced the thorn which had given rise to the name of ombrega, and in a short time we were comfortably settled for the night. we were within fifty yards of the river, the horses were luxuriating in the green grass that grew upon its banks, and the camels were hobbled, to prevent them from wandering from the protection of the camp-fires, as we were now in the wilderness, where the base by day and the lion and leopard by night were hostile to man and beast. we were fast asleep a little after midnight, when we were awakened by the loud barking of the dogs, and by a confusion in the camp. jumping up on the instant, i heard the dogs, far away in the dark jungles, barking in different directions. one of the goats was gone! a leopard had sprung into the camp, and had torn a goat from its fastening, although tied to a peg, between two men, close to a large fire. the dogs had given chase; but, as usual in such cases, they were so alarmed as to be almost useless. we quickly collected firebrands and searched the jungles, and shortly we arrived where a dog was barking violently. near this spot we heard the moaning of some animal among the bushes, and upon a search with firebrands we discovered the goat, helpless upon the ground, with its throat lacerated by the leopard. a sudden cry from the dog at a few yards' distance, and the barking ceased. the goat was carried to the camp where it shortly died. we succeeded in recalling two of the dogs, but the third, which was the best, was missing, having been struck by the leopard. we searched for the body in vain, and concluded that it had been carried off. the country that we now traversed was so totally uninhabited that it was devoid of all footprints of human beings; even the sand by the river's side, that, like the snow, confessed every print, was free from all traces of man. the bas-e were evidently absent from our neighbourhood. we had several times disturbed antelopes during the early portion of the march, and we had just ascended from the rugged slopes of the valley, when we observed a troop of about baboons, which were gathering gum-arabic from the mimosas; upon seeing us, they immediately waddled off. "would the lady like to have a girrit (baboon)?" exclaimed the ever-excited jali. being answered in the affirmative, away dashed the three hunters in full gallop after the astonished apes, who, finding themselves pursued, went off at their best speed. the ground was rough, being full of broken hollows, covered scantily with mimosas, and the stupid baboons, instead of turning to the right into the rugged and steep valley of the settite, where they would have been secure from the aggageers, kept a straight course before the horses. it was a curious hunt. some of the very young baboons were riding on their mother's backs; these were now going at their best pace, holding onto their maternal steeds, and looking absurdly humans but in a few minutes, as we closely followed the arabs, we were all in the midst of the herd, and with great dexterity two of the aggageers, while at full speed, stooped like falcons from their saddles, and seized each a half-grown ape by the back of the neck, and hoisted them upon the necks of the horses. instead of biting, as i had expected, the astonished captives sat astride of the horses, and clung tenaciously with both arms to the necks of their steeds, screaming with fear. the hunt was over, and we halted to secured the prisoners. dismounting, to my surprise the arabs immediately stripped from a mimosa several thongs of bark, and having tied the baboons by the neck, they gave them a merciless whipping with their powerful coorbatches of hippopotamus hide. it was in vain that i remonstrated against this harsh treatment; they persisted in the punishment. otherwise they declared that the baboons would bite, but if well-whipped they would become "miskeen"(humble). at length by wife insisted upon mercy, and the unfortunate captives wore an expression of countenance like prisoners about to be led to execution, and they looked imploringly at our faces, in which they evidently discovered some sympathy with their fate. they were quickly placed on horseback before their captors, and once more we continued our journey, highly amused with the little entr' acte. we had hardly ridden half a mile when i perceived a fine bull tetel standing near a bush a few hundred yards distant. motioning to the party to halt, i dismounted, and with that the little fletcher rifle i endeavored to obtain a shot. when within about a hundred and seventy yards, he observed our party, and i was obliged to take the shot, although i could have approached unseen to a closer distance, had his attention not been attracted by the noise of the horses. he threw his head up preparatory to starting off, and he was just upon the move as i touched the trigger. he fell like a stone to the shot, but almost immediately he regained his feet and bounded off, receiving a bullet from the second barrel without a flinch. in full speed he rushed away across the party of aggageers about three hundred yards distant. out dashed abou do from the ranks on his active gray horse, and away he flew after the wounded tetel, his long hair floating in the wind, his naked sword in hand, and his heels digging into the flanks of his horse, as though armed with spurs in the last finish of a race. it was a beautiful course. abou do hunted like a cunning greyhound; the tetel turned, and, taking advantage of the double, he cut off the angle; succeeding by the manoeuvre, he again followed at tremendous speed over the numerous inequalities of the ground, gaining in the race until he was within twenty yards of the tetel, when we lost sight of both game and hunter in the thick bushes. by this time i had regained my horse, that was brought to meet me, and i followed to the spot, toward which my wife and the aggageers, encumbered with the unwilling apes, were already hastening. upon arrival i found, in high yellow grass beneath a large tree, the tetel dead, and abou do wiping his bloody sword, surrounded by the foremost of the party. he had hamstrung the animal so delicately that the keen edge of the blade was not injured against the bone. my two bullets had passed through the tetel. the first was too high, having entered above the shoulder--this had dropped the animal for a moment; the second was through the flank. the arabs now tied the baboons to trees, and employed themselves in carefully skinning the tetel so as to form a sack from the hide. they had about half finished the operation, when we were disturbed by a peculiar sound at a considerable distance in the jungle, which, being repeated, we knew to be the cry of buffaloes. in an instant the tetel was neglected, the aggageers mounted their horses, and leaving my wife with a few men to take charge of the game, accompanied by florian we went in search of the buffaloes. this part of the country was covered with grass about nine feet high, that was reduced to such extreme dryness that the stems broke into several pieces like glass as we brushed through it. the jungle was open, composed of thorny mimosas at such wide intervals that a horse could be ridden at considerable speed if accustomed to the country. altogether it was the perfection of ground for shooting, and the chances were in favour of the rifle. we had proceeded carefully about half a mile when i heard a rustling in the grass, and i shortly perceived a bull buffalo standing alone beneath a tree, close to the sandy bed of a dried stream, which was about a hundred yards distant, between us and the animal. the grass had been entirely destroyed by the trampling of a large herd. i took aim at the shoulder with one of my no. reilly rifles, and the buffalo rushed forward at the shot, and fell about a hundred paces beyond in the bush. at the report of the shot, the herd, that we had not observed, which had been lying upon the sandy bed of the stream, rushed past us with a sound like thunder, in a cloud of dust raised by several hundreds of large animals in full gallop. i could hardly see them distinctly, and i waited for a good chance, when presently a mighty bull separated from the rest, and gave me a fair shoulder-shot. i fired a little too forward, and missed the shoulder; but i made a still better shot by mistake, as the reilly bullet broke the spine through the neck, and dropped him dead. florian, poor fellow, had not the necessary tools for the work, and one of his light guns produced no effect. now came the time for the aggageers. away dashed jali op his fiery mare, closely followed by abou do and suleiman, who in a few instants were obscured in the cloud of dust raised by the retreating buffaloes. as soon as i could mount my horse that had been led behind me, i followed at full speed, and, spurring hard, i shortly came in sight of the three aggageers, not only in the dust, but actually among the rear buffaloes of the herd. suddenly, jali almost disappeared from the saddle as he leaned forward with a jerk and seized a fine young buffalo by the tail. in a moment abou do and suleiman sprang from their horses, and i arrived just in time to assist them in securing a fine little bull about twelve hands high, whose horns were six or seven inches long. a pretty fight we had with the young hercules. the arabs stuck to him like bulldogs, in spite of his tremendous struggles, and florian, with other men, shortly arriving, we secured him by lashing his legs together with our belts until impromptu ropes could be made with mimosa bark. i now returned to the spot where we had left my wife and the tetel. i found her standing about fifty yards from the spot with a double rifle cocked, awaiting an expected charge from one of the buffaloes that, separated from the herd, had happened to rush in her direction. mahomet had been in an awful fright, and was now standing secure behind his mistress. i rode through the grass with the hope of getting a shot, but the animal had disappeared. we returned to the dead tetel and to our captive baboons; but times had changed since we had left them. one had taken advantage of our absence, and, having bitten through his tether, had escaped. the other had used force instead of cunning, and, in attempting to tear away from confinement, had strangled himself with the slip-knot of the rope. we now pushed ahead, and at p.m. we arrived at the spot on the margin of the settite river at which we were to encamp for some time. for many miles on either side the river was fringed with dense groves of the green nabbuk, but upon the east bank an island had been formed of about three hundred acres. this was a perfect oasis of verdure, covered with large nabbuk trees, about thirty feet high, and forming a mixture of the densest coverts, with small open glades of rich but low herbage. to reach this island, upon which we were to encamp, it was necessary to cross the arm of the river, that was now dry, with the exception of deep pools, in one of which we perceived a large bull buffalo drinking, just as we descended the hill. as this would be close to the larder, i stalked to within ninety yards, and fired a reilly no. into his back, as his head inclined to the water. for the moment he fell upon his knees, but recovering immediately, he rushed up the steep bank of the island, receiving the ball from my left-hand barrel between his shoulders, and disappeared in the dense covert of green nabbuk on the margin. as we were to camp within a few yards of the spot, he was close to home; therefore, having crossed the river, we carefully followed the blood tracks through the jungle. but, after having pushed our way for about twenty paces through the dense covert, i came to the wise conclusion that it was not the place for following a wounded buffalo, and that we should find him dead on the next morning. a few yards upon our right hand was a beautiful open glade, commanding a view of the river, and surrounded by the largest nabbuk trees, that afforded a delightful shade in the midst of the thick covert. this was a spot that in former years had been used by the aggageers as a camp, and we accordingly dismounted and turned the horses to graze upon the welcome grass. each horse was secured to a peg by a long leathern thong, as the lions in this neighbourhood were extremely dangerous, having the advantage of thick and opaque jungle. we employed ourselves until the camels should arrive in cutting thorn branches and constructing a zareeba or fenced camp, to protect our animals during the night from the attack of wild beasts. i also hollowed out a thick green bush to form an arbour, as a retreat during the heat of the day, and in a short space of time we were prepared for the reception of the camels and effects. the river had cast up immense stores of dry wood; this we had collected, and by the time the camels arrived with the remainder of our party after dark, huge fires were blazing high in air, the light of which had guided them direct to our camp. they were heavily laden with meat, which is the arab's great source of happiness; therefore in a few minutes the whole party was busily employed in cutting the flesh into long thin strips to dry. these were hung in festoons over the surrounding trees, while the fires were heaped with tidbits of all descriptions. i had chosen a remarkably snug position for ourselves; the two angareps (stretchers) were neatly arranged in the middle of a small open space free from overhanging boughs; near these blazed a large fire, upon which were roasting a row of marrow-bones of buffalo and tetel, while the table was spread with a clean cloth and arranged for dinner. the woman barrak, who had discovered with regret that she was not a wife but a servant, had got over the disappointment, and was now making dhurra cakes upon the doka. this is a round earthenware tray about eighteen inches in diameter, which, supported upon three stones or lumps of earth, over a fire of glowing embers, forms a hearth. slices of liver, well peppered with cayenne and salt, were grilling on the gridiron, and we were preparing to dine, when a terrific roar within a hundred and fifty yards informed us that a lion was also thinking of dinner. a confusion of tremendous roars proceeding from several lions followed the first round, and my aggageers quietly remarked, "there is no danger for the horses tonight; the lions have found your wounded buffalo!" such a magnificent chorus of bass voices i had never heard. the jungle cracked, as with repeated roars they dragged the carcass of the buffalo through the thorns to the spot where they intended to devour it. that which was music to our ears was discord to those of mahomet, who with terror in his face came to us and exclaimed, "master, what's that? what for master and the missus come to this bad country? that's one bad kind will eat the missus in the night! perhaps he come and eat mahomet!" this afterthought was too much for him, and bacheet immediately comforted him by telling the most horrible tales of death and destruction that had been wrought by lions, until the nerves of mahomet were completely unhinged. this was a signal for story-telling, when suddenly the aggageers changed the conversation by a few tales of the bas-e natives, which so thoroughly eclipsed the dangers of wild beasts that in a short time the entire party would almost have welcomed a lion, provided he would have agreed to protect them from the bas-e. in this very spot where we were then camped, a party of arab hunters had, two years previous, been surprised at night and killed by the bas-e, who still boasted of the swords that they possessed as spoils from that occasion. the bas-e knew this spot as the favorite resting-place of the hamran hunting-parties, and they might be not far distant now, as we were in the heart of their country. this intelligence was a regular damper to the spirits of some of the party. mahomet quietly retired and sat down by barrak, the ex-slave woman, having expressed a resolution to keep awake every hour that he should be compelled to remain in that horrible country. the lions roared louder and louder, but no one appeared to notice such small thunder; all thoughts were fixed upon the bas-e, so thoroughly had the aggageers succeeded in frightening not only mahomet, but also our tokrooris. chapter viii. the elephant trumpets--fighting an elephant with swords--the forehead-shot--elephants in a panic--a superb old neptune--the harpoon reaches its aim--death of the hippopotamus--tramped by an elephant. the aggageers started before daybreak in search of elephants. they soon returned, and reported the fresh tracks of a herd, and begged me to lose no time in accompanying them, as the elephants might retreat to a great distance. there was no need for this advice. in a few minutes my horse tetel was saddled, and my six tokrooris and bacheet, with spare rifles, were in attendance. bacheet, who had so ingloriously failed in his first essay at wat el negur, had been so laughed at by the girls of the village for his want of pluck that he had declared himself ready to face the devil rather than the ridicule of the fair sex; and, to do him justice, he subsequently became a first-rate lad in moments of danger. the aggageers were quickly mounted. it was a sight most grateful to a sportsman to witness the start of these superb hunters, who with the sabres slung from the saddle-bow, as though upon an every-day occasion, now left the camp with these simple weapons, to meet the mightiest animal of creation in hand-to-hand conflict. the horses' hoofs clattered as we descended the shingly beach, and forded the river shoulder-deep, through the rapid current, while those on foot clung to the manes of the horses and to the stirrup-leathers to steady themselves over the loose stones beneath. tracking was very difficult. as there was a total absence of rain, it was next to impossible to distinguish the tracks of two days' date from those most recent upon the hard and parched soil. the only positive clew was the fresh dung of the elephants, and this being deposited at long intervals rendered the search extremely tedious. the greater part of the day passed in useless toil, and, after fording the river backward and forward several times, we at length arrived at a large area of sand in the bend of the stream, that was evidently overflowed when the river was full. this surface of many acres was backed by a forest of large trees. upon arrival at this spot the aggageers, who appeared to know every inch of the country, declared that, unless the elephants had gone far away, they must be close at hand, within the forest. we were speculating upon the direction of the wind, when we were surprised by the sudden trumpeting of an elephant, that proceeded from the forest already declared to be the covert of the herd. in a few minutes later a fine bull elephant marched majestically from the jungle upon the large area of sand, and proudly stalked direct toward the river. at that time we were stationed under cover of a high bank of sand that had been left by the retiring river in sweeping round an angle. we immediately dismounted, and remained well concealed. the question of attack was quickly settled. the elephant was quietly stalking toward the water, which was about three hundred paces distant from the jungle. this intervening space was heavy dry sand, that had been thrown up by the stream in the sudden bend of the river, which, turning from this point at a right angle, swept beneath a perpendicular cliff of conglomerate rock formed of rounded pebbles cemented together. i proposed that we should endeavor to stalk the elephant, by creeping along the edge of the river, under cover of a sand-bank about three feet high, and that, should the rifles fail, the aggageers should come on at full gallop and cut off his retreat from the jungle; we should then have a chance for the swords. accordingly i led the way, followed by hadji ali, my head tokroori, with a rifle, while i carried the "baby." florian accompanied us. having the wind fair, we advanced quickly for about half the distance, at which time we were within a hundred and fifty yards of the elephant, who had just arrived at the water and had commenced drinking. we now crept cautiously toward him. the sand-bank had decreased to a height of about two feet, and afforded very little shelter. not a tree or bush grew upon the surface of the barren sand, which was so deep that we sank nearly to the ankles at every footstep. still we crept forward, as the elephant alternately drank and then spouted the water in a shower over his colossal form; but just as we arrived within about fifty yards he happened to turn his head in our direction, and immediately perceived us. he cocked his enormous ears, gave a short trumpeting, and for an instant wavered in his determination whether to attack or fly; but as i rushed toward him with a shout, he turned toward the jungle, and i immediately fired a steady shot at the shoulder with the "baby." as usual, the fearful recoil of the rifle, with a half-pound shell and twelve drams of powder, nearly threw me backward; but i saw the mark upon the elephant's shoulder, in an excellent line, although rather high. the only effect of the shot was to send him off at great speed toward the jungle. at the same moment the three aggageers came galloping across the sand like greyhounds in a course, and, judiciously keeping parallel with the jungle, they cut off his retreat, and, turning toward the elephant, confronted him, sword in hand. at once the furious beast charged straight at the enemy. but now came the very gallant but foolish part of the hunt. instead of leading the elephant by the flight of one man and horse, according to their usual method, all the aggageers at the same moment sprang from their saddles, and upon foot in the heavy sand they attacked the elephant with their swords. in the way of sport i never saw anything so magnificent or so absurdly dangerous. no gladiatorial exhibition in the roman arena could have surpassed this fight. the elephant was mad with rage, and nevertheless he seemed to know that the object of the hunters was to get behind him. this he avoided with great dexterity, turning as it were upon a pivot with extreme quickness, and charging headlong, first at one and then at another of his assailants, while he blew clouds of sand in the air with his trunk, and screamed with fury. nimble as monkeys, nevertheless the aggageers could not get behind him. in the folly of excitement they had forsaken their horses, which had escaped from the spot. the depth of the loose sand was in favor of the elephant, and was so much against the men that they avoided his charges with extreme difficulty. it was only by the determined pluck of all three that they alternately saved each other, as two invariably dashed in at the flanks when the elephant charged the third, upon which the wary animal immediately relinquished the chase and turned round upon his pursuers. during this time i had been laboring through the heavy sand, and shortly after i arrived at the fight the elephant charged directly through the aggageers, receiving a shoulder-shot from one of my reilly no. rifles, and at the same time a slash from the sword of abou do, who with great dexterity and speed had closed in behind him, just in time to reach the leg. unfortunately, he could not deliver the cut in the right place, as the elephant, with increased speed, completely distanced the aggageers, then charged across the deep sand and reached the jungle. we were shortly upon his tracks, and after running about a quarter of a mile he fell dead in a dry watercourse. his tusks were, like those of most abyssinian elephants, exceedingly short, but of good thickness. some of our men, who had followed the runaway horses, shortly returned and reported that during our fight with the bull they had heard other elephants trumpeting in the dense nabbuk jungle near the river. we all dismounted, and sent the horses to a considerable distance, lest they should by some noise disturb the elephants. we shortly heard a crackling in the jungle on our right, and jali assured us that, as he had expected, the elephants were slowly advancing along the jungle on the bank of the river, and would pass exactly before us. we waited patiently in the bed of the river, and the crackling in the jungle sounded closer as the herd evidently approached. the strip of thick thorny covert that fringed the margin was in no place wider than half a mile; beyond that the country was open and park-like, but at this season it was covered with parched grass from eight to ten feet high. the elephants would, therefore, most probably remain in the jungle until driven out. in about a quarter of an hour we knew by the noise in the jungle, about a hundred yards from the river, that the elephants were directly opposite to us. i accordingly instructed jali to creep quietly by himself into the bush and to bring me information of their position. to this he at once agreed. in three or four minutes he returned. he declared it impossible to use the sword, as the jungle was so dense that it would check the blow; but that i could use the rifle, as the elephants were close to us--he had seen three standing together, between us and the main body of the herd. i told jali to lead me directly to the spot, and, followed by florian and the aggageers, with my gun-bearers, i kept within a foot of my dependable little guide, who crept gently into the jungle. this was exceedingly thick, and quite impenetrable, except in the places where elephants and other heavy animals had trodden numerous alleys. along one of these narrow passages we stealthily advanced, until jali stepped quietly on one side and pointed with his finger. i immediately observed two elephants looming through the thick bushes about eight paces from me. one offered a temple-shot, which i quickly took with a reilly no. , and floored it on the spot. the smoke hung so thickly that i could not see distinctly enough to fire my second barrel before the remaining elephant had turned; but florian, with a three-ounce steel-tipped bullet, by a curious shot at the hind-quarters, injured the hip joint to such an extent that we could more than equal the elephant in speed. in a few moments we found ourselves in a small open glade in the middle of the jungle, close to the stern of the elephant we were following. i had taken a fresh rifle, with both barrels loaded, and hardly had i made the exchange when the elephant turned suddenly and charged. determined to try fairly the forehead-shot, i kept my ground, and fired a reilly no. , quicksilver and lead bullet, exactly in the centre, when certainly within four yards. the only effect was to make her stagger backward, when, in another moment, with her immense ears thrown forward, she again rushed on. this was touch-and-go; but i fired my remaining barrel a little lower than the first shot. checked in her rush, she backed toward the dense jungle, throwing her trunk about and trumpeting with rage. snatching the ceylon no. from one of my trusty tokrooris (hassan), i ran straight at her, took a most deliberate aim at the forehead, and once more fired. the only effect was a decisive charge; but before i fired my last barrel jali rushed in, and, with one blow of his sharp sword, severed the back sinew. she was utterly helpless in the same instant. bravo, jali! i had fired three beautifully correct shots with no. bullets and seven drams of powder in each charge. these were so nearly together that they occupied a space in her forehead of about three inches, and all had failed to kill! there could no longer be any doubt that the forehead-shot at an african elephant could not be relied upon, although so fatal to the indian species. this increased the danger tenfold, as in ceylon i had generally made certain of an elephant by steadily waiting until it was close upon me. i now reloaded my rifles, and the aggageers quitted the jungle to remount their horses, as they expected the herd had broken cover on the other side of the jungle, in which case they intended to give chase, and, if possible, to turn them back into the covert and drive them toward the guns. we accordingly took our stand in the small open glade, and i lent florian one of my double rifles, as he was only provided with one single-barrelled elephant gun. i did not wish to destroy the prestige of the rifles by hinting to the aggageers that it would be rather awkward for us to receive the charge of the infuriated herd, as the foreheads were invulnerable; but inwardly i rather hoped that they would not come so directly upon our position as the aggageers wished. about a quarter of an hour passed in suspense, when we suddenly heard a chorus of wild cries of excitement on the other side of the jungle, raised by the aggageers, who had headed the herd and were driving them back toward us. in a few minutes a tremendous crashing in the jungle, accompanied by the occasional shrill scream of a savage elephant and the continued shouts of the mounted aggageers, assured us that they were bearing down exactly upon our direction. they were apparently followed even through the dense jungle by the wild and reckless arabs. i called my men close together, told them to stand fast and hand me the guns quickly, and we eagerly awaited the onset that rushed toward us like a storm. on they came, tearing everything before them. for a moment the jungle quivered and crashed; a second later, and, headed by an immense elephant, the herd thundered down upon us. the great leader came directly at me, and was received with right and left in the forehead from a reilly no. as fast as i could pull the triggers. the shock made it reel backward for an instant, and fortunately turned it and the herd likewise. my second rifle was beautifully handed, and i made a quick right and left at the temples of two fine elephants, dropping them both stone dead. at this moment the "baby" was pushed into my hand by hadji ali just in time to take the shoulder of the last of the herd, who had already charged headlong after his comrades and was disappearing in the jungle. bang! went the "baby;" round i spun like a weathercock, with the blood pouring from my nose, as the recoil had driven the sharp top of the hammer deep into the bridge. my "baby" not only screamed, but kicked viciously. however, i knew that the elephant must be bagged, as the half-pound shell had been aimed directly behind the shoulder. in a few minutes the aggageers arrived. they were bleeding from countless scratches, as, although naked with the exception of short drawers, they had forced their way on horseback through the thorny path cleft by the herd in rushing through the jungle. abou do had blood upon his sword. they had found the elephants commencing a retreat to the interior of the country, and they had arrived just in time to turn them. following them at full speed, abou do had succeeded in overtaking and slashing the sinew of an elephant just as it was entering the jungle. thus the aggageers had secured one, in addition to florian's elephant that had been slashed by jali. we now hunted for the "baby's" elephant, which was almost immediately discovered lying dead within a hundred and fifty yards of the place where it had received the shot. the shell had entered close to the shoulder, and it was extraordinary that an animal should have been able to travel so great a distance with a wound through the lungs by a shell that had exploded within the body. we had done pretty well. i had been fortunate in bagging four from this herd, in addition to the single bull in the morning; total, five. florian had killed one and the aggageers one; total, seven elephants. one had escaped that i had wounded in the shoulder, and two that had been wounded by florian. the aggageers were delighted, and they determined to search for the wounded elephants on the following day, as the evening was advancing, and we were about five miles from camp. at daybreak the next morning the aggageers in high glee mounted their horses, and with a long retinue of camels and men, provided with axes and knives, together with large gum sacks to contain the flesh, they quitted the camp to cut up the numerous elephants. as i had no taste for this disgusting work, i took two of my tokrooris, hadji ali and hassan, and, accompanied by old abou do, the father of the sheik, with his harpoon, we started along the margin of the river in quest of hippopotami. the harpoon for hippopotamus and crocodile hunting is a piece of soft steel about eleven inches long, with a narrow blade or point of about three quarters of an inch in width and a single but powerful barb. to this short and apparently insignificant weapon a strong rope is secured, about twenty feet in length, at the extremity of which is a buoy or float, as large as a child's head, formed of an extremely light wood called ambatch (aanemone mirabilis) that is of about half the specific gravity of cork. the extreme end of the short harpoon is fixed in the point of a bamboo about ten feet long, around which the rope is twisted, while the buoy end is carried in the left hand. the old abou do, being resolved upon work, had divested himself of his tope or toga before starting, according to the general custom of the aggageers, who usually wear a simple piece of leather wound round the loins when hunting; but, i believe in respect for our party, they had provided themselves with a garment resembling bathing drawers, such as are worn in france, germany, and other civilized countries. but the old abou do had resisted any such innovation, and he accordingly appeared with nothing on but his harpoon; and a more superb old neptune i never beheld. he carried this weapon in his hand, as the trident with which the old sea-god ruled the monsters of the deep; and as the tall arab patriarch of threescore years and ten, with his long gray locks flowing over his brawny shoulders, stepped as lightly as a goat from rock to rock along the rough margin of the river, i followed him in admiration. after walking about two miles we noticed a herd of hippopotami in a pool below a rapid. this was surrounded by rocks, except upon one side, where the rush of water had thrown up a bank of pebbles and sand. our old neptune did not condescend to bestow the slightest attention when i pointed out these animals; they were too wide awake; but he immediately quitted the river's bed, and we followed him quietly behind the fringe of bushes upon the border, from which we carefully examined the water. about half a mile below this spot, as we clambered over the intervening rocks through a gorge which formed a powerful rapid, i observed, in a small pool just below the rapid, the immense head of a hippopotamus close to a perpendicular rock that formed a wall to the river, about six feet above the surface. i pointed out the hippo to old abou do, who had not seen it. at once the gravity of the old arab disappeared, and the energy of the hunter was exhibited as he motioned us to remain, while he ran nimbly behind the thick screen of bushes for about a hundred and fifty yards below the spot where the hippo was unconsciously basking, with his ugly head above the surface. plunging into the rapid torrent, the veteran hunter was carried some distance down the stream; but, breasting the powerful current, he landed upon the rocks on the opposite side, and, retiring to some distance from the river, he quickly advanced toward the spot beneath which the hippopotamus was lying. i had a fine view of the scene, as i was lying concealed exactly opposite the hippo, who had disappeared beneath the water. abou do now stealthily approached the ledge of rock beneath which he had expected to see the head of the animal. his long, sinewy arm was raised, with the harpoon ready to strike, as he carefully advanced. at length he reached the edge of the perpendicular rock. the hippo had vanished, but, far from exhibiting surprise, the old arab remained standing on the sharp edge, unchanged in attitude. no figure of bronze could have been more rigid than that of the old river-king as he stood erect upon the rock with the left foot advanced and the harpoon poised in his ready right hand above his head, while in the left he held the loose coils of rope attached to the ambatch buoy. for about three minutes he stood like a statue, gazing intently into the clear and deep water beneath his feet. i watched eagerly for the reappearance of the hippo; the surface of the water was still barren, when suddenly the right arm of the statue descended like lightning, and the harpoon shot perpendicularly into the pool with the speed of an arrow. what river-fiend answered to the summons? in an instant an enormous pair of open jaws appeared, followed by the ungainly head and form of the furious hippopotamus, who, springing half out of the water, lashed the river into foam, and, disdaining the concealment of the deep pool, charged straight up the violent rapids. with extraordinary power he breasted the descending stream, gaining a footing in the rapids, about five feet deep. he ploughed his way against the broken waves, sending them in showers of spray upon all sides, and, upon gaining broader shallows, tore along through the water, with the buoyant float hopping behind him along the surface, until he landed from the river, started at full gallop along the dry shingly bed, and at length disappeared in the thorny nabbuk jungle. i never could have imagined that so unwieldy an animal could have exhibited such speed; no man would have had a chance of escape, and it was fortunate for our old neptune that he was secure upon the high ledge of rock; for if he had been in the path of the infuriated beast there would have been an end of abou do. the old man plunged into the deep pool just quitted by the hippo and landed upon our side, while in the enthusiasm of the moment i waved my cap above my head and gave him a british cheer as he reached the shore. his usually stern features relaxed into a grim smile of delight: this was one of those moments when the gratified pride of the hunter rewards him for any risks. i congratulated him upon his dexterity; but much remained to be done. i proposed to cross the river, and to follow upon the tracks of the hippopotamus, as i imagined that the buoy and rope would catch in the thick jungle, and that we should find him entangled in the bush; but the old hunter gently laid his hand upon my arm and pointed up the bed of the river, explaining that the hippo would certainly return to the water after a short interval. in a few minutes later, at a distance of nearly half a mile, we observed the hippo emerge from the jungle and descend at full trot to the bed of the river, making direct for the first rocky pool in which we had noticed the herd of hippopotami. accompanied by the old howarti (hippo hunter), we walked quickly toward the spot. he explained to me that i must shoot the harpooned hippo, as we should not be able to secure him in the usual method by ropes, as nearly all our men were absent from camp, disposing of the dead elephants. upon reaching the pool, which was about a hundred and thirty yards in diameter, we were immediately greeted by the hippo, who snorted and roared as we approached, but quickly dived, and the buoyant float ran along the surface, directing his course in the same manner as the cork of a trimmer marks that of a pike upon the hook. several times he appeared, but as he invariably faced us i could not obtain a favorable shot; i therefore sent the old hunter round the pool, and he, swimming the river, advanced to the opposite side and attracted the attention of the hippo, who immediately turned toward him. this afforded me a good chance, and i fired a steady shot behind the ear, at about seventy yards, with a single-barrelled rifle. as usual with hippopotami, whether dead or alive, he disappeared beneath the water at the shot. the crack of the ball and the absence of any splash from the bullet told me that he was hit; the ambatch float remained perfectly stationary upon the surface. i watched it for some minutes--it never moved. several heads of hippopotami appeared and vanished in different directions, but the float was still; it marked the spot where the grand old bull lay dead beneath. i shot another hippo, that i thought must be likewise dead; and, taking the time by my watch, i retired to the shade of a tree with hassan, while hadji ali and the old hunter returned to camp for assistance in men and knives, etc. in a little more than an hour and a half, two objects like the backs of turtles appeared above the surface. these were the flanks of the two hippos. a short time afterward the men arrived, and, regardless of crocodiles, they swam toward the bodies. one was towed directly to the shore by the rope attached to the harpoon, the other was secured by a long line and dragged to the bank of clean pebbles. we had now a good supply of food, which delighted our people. i returned to the camp, and several hours elapsed, but none of the aggageers returned, and neither had we received any tidings of our people and camels that had left us at daybreak to search for the dead elephants. fearing that some mishap might have occurred in a collision with the bas-e, i anxiously looked out for some sign of the party. at about p.m. i observed far up the bed of the river several men, some mounted and others upon foot, while one led a camel with a curious-looking load. upon a nearer approach i could distinguish upon the camel's back some large object that was steadied by two men, one of whom walked on either side. i had a foreboding that something was wrong, and in a few minutes i clearly perceived a man lying upon a make-shift litter, carried by the camel, while the sheik abou do and suleiman accompanied the party upon horseback; a third led jali's little gray mare. they soon arrived beneath the high bank of the river upon which i stood. poor little jali, my plucky and active ally, lay, as i thought, dead upon the litter. we laid him gently upon my angarep, which i had raised by four men, so that we could lower him gradually from the kneeling camel, and we carried him to the camp, about thirty yards distant. he was faint, and i poured some essence of peppermint (the only spirits i possessed) down his throat, which quickly revived him. his thigh was broken about eight inches above the knee, but fortunately it was a simple fracture. abou do now explained the cause of the accident. while the party of camel, men and others were engaged in cutting up the dead elephants, the three aggageers had found the track of a bull that had escaped wounded. in that country, where there was no drop of water upon the east bank of the settite for a distance of sixty or seventy miles to the river gash, an elephant, if wounded, was afraid to trust itself to the interior. one of our escaped elephants had therefore returned to the thick jungle, and was tracked by the aggageers to a position within two or three hundred yards of the dead elephants. as there were no guns, two of the aggageers, utterly reckless of consequences, resolved to ride through the narrow passages formed by the large game, and to take their chance with the elephant, sword in hand. jali, as usual, was the first to lead, and upon his little gray mare he advanced with the greatest difficulty through the entangled thorns, broken by the passage of heavy game; to the right and left of the passage it was impossible to move. abou do had wisely dismounted, but suleiman followed jali. upon arriving within a few yards of the elephant, which was invisible in the thick thorns, abou do crept forward on foot, and discovered it standing with ears cocked, evidently waiting for the attack. as jali followed on his light gray mare, the elephant immediately perceived the white color and at once charged forward. escape was next to impossible. jali turned his snare sharply around, and she bounded off; but, caught in the thorns, the mare fell, throwing her rider in the path of the elephant that was within a few feet behind, in full chase. the mare recovered herself in an instant, and rushed away; the elephant, attracted by the white color of the animal, neglected the man, upon whom it trod in the pursuit, thus breaking his thigh. abou do, who had been between the elephant and jali, had wisely jumped into the thick thorns, and, as the elephant passed him, he again sprang out behind and followed with his drawn sword, but too late to save jali, as it was the affair of an instant. jumping over jali's body, he was just in time to deliver a tremendous cut at the hind leg of the elephant, that must otherwise have killed both horses and probably suleiman also, as the three were caught in a cul de sac, in a passage that had no outlet, and were at the elephant's mercy. abou do seldom failed. it was a difficult feat to strike correctly in the narrow jungle passage with the elephant in full speed; but the blow was fairly given, and the back sinew was divided. not content with the success of the cut, he immediately repeated the stroke upon the other leg, as he feared that the elephant, although disabled from rapid motion, might turn and trample jali. the extraordinary dexterity and courage required to effect this can hardly be appreciated by those who have never hunted a wild elephant; but the extreme agility, pluck, and audacity of these hamran sword-hunters surpass all feats that i have ever witnessed. i set jali's broken thigh and attended to him for four days. he was a very grateful but unruly patient, as he had never been accustomed to remain quiet. at the end of that time we arranged an angarep comfortably upon a camel, upon which he was transported to geera, in company with a long string of camels, heavily laden with dried meat and squares of hide for shields, with large bundles of hippopotamus skin for whip-making, together with the various spoils of the chase. last but not least were numerous leathern pots of fat that had been boiled down from elephants and hippopotami. the camels were to return as soon as possible with supplies of corn for our people and horses. another elephant-hunter was to be sent to us in the place of jali, but i felt that we had lost our best man. chapter ix. fright of the tokrooris--deserters who didn't desert--arrival of the sherrif brothers--now for a tally-ho!--on the heels of the rhinoceroses--the abyssinian rhinoceros--every man for himself. although my people had been in the highest spirits up to this time, a gloom had been thrown over the party by two causes--jali's accident and the fresh footmarks of the bas-e that had been discovered upon the sand by the margin of the river. the aggageers feared nothing, and if the bas-e had been legions of demons they would have faced them, sword in hand, with the greatest pleasure. but my tokrooris, who were brave in some respects, had been so cowed by the horrible stories recounted of these common enemies at the nightly camp-fires by the hamran arabs, that they were seized with panic and resolved to desert en masse and return to katariff, where i had originally engaged them, and at which place they had left their families. in this instance the desertion of my tokrooris would have been a great blow to my expedition, as it was necessary to have a division of parties. i had the tokrooris, jaleens, and hamran arabs. thus they would never unite together, and i was certain to have some upon my side in a difficulty. should i lose the tokrooris, the hamran arabs would have the entire preponderance. the whole of my tokrooris formed in line before me and my wife, just as the camels were about to leave. each man had his little bundle prepared for starting on a journey. old moosa was the spokesman. he said that they were all very sorry; that they regretted exceedingly the necessity of leaving us, but some of them were sick, and they would only be a burden to the expedition; that one of them was bound upon a pilgrimage to mecca, and that god would punish him should he neglect this great duty; others had not left any money with their families in katariff, that would starve in their absence. (i had given them an advance of wages, when they engaged at katariff, to provide against this difficulty.) i replied: "my good fellows, i am very sorry to hear all this, especially as it comes upon me so suddenly; those who are sick stand upon one side" (several invalids, who looked remarkably healthy, stepped to the left). "who wishes to go to mecca?" abderachman stepped forward (a huge specimen of a tokroori, who went by the nickname of "el jamoos" or the buffalo). "who wishes to remit money to his family, as i will send it and deduct it from his wages?" no one came forward. during the pause i called for pen and paper, which mahomet brought. i immediately commenced writing, and placed the note within an envelope, which i addressed and gave to one of the camel-drivers. i then called for my medicine-chest, and having weighed several three-grain doses of tartar emetic, i called the invalids, and insisted upon their taking the medicine before they started, or they might become seriously ill upon the road, which for three days' march was uninhabited. mixed with a little water the doses were swallowed, and i knew that the invalids were safe for that day, and that the others would not start without them. i now again addressed my would-be deserters: "now, my good fellows, there shall be no misunderstanding between us, and i will explain to you how the case stands. you engaged yourselves to me for the whole journey, and you received an advance of wages to provide for your families during your absence. you have lately filled yourselves with meat, and you have become lazy; you have been frightened by the footprints of the bas-e; thus you wish to leave the country. to save yourselves from imaginary danger, you would forsake my wife and myself, and leave us to a fate which you yourselves would avoid. this is your gratitude for kindness; this is the return for my confidence, when without hesitation i advanced you money. go! return to katariff to your families! i know that all the excuses you have made are false. those who declare themselves to be sick, inshallah (please god), shall be sick. you will all be welcomed upon your arrival at katariff. in the letter i have written to the governor, inclosing your names, i have requested him to give each man upon his appearance five hundred lashes with the coorbatch, for desertion, and to imprison him until my return." checkmate! my poor tokrooris were in a corner, and in their great dilemma they could not answer a word. taking advantage of this moment of confusion, i called forward "the buffalo," abderachman, as i had heard that he really had contemplated a pilgrimage to mecca. "abderachman," i continued, "you are the only man who has spoken the truth. go to mecca! and may god protect you on the journey! i should not wish to prevent you from performing your duty as a mahometan." never were people more dumbfounded with surprise. they retreated, and formed a knot in consultation, and in about ten minutes they returned to me, old moosa and hadji ali both leading the pilgrim abderachman by the hands. they had given in; and abderachman, the buffalo of the party, thanked me for my permission, and with tears in his eyes, as the camels were about to start, he at once said good-by. "embrace him!" cried old moosa and hadji ali; and in an instant, as i had formerly succumbed to the maid barrake, i was actually kissed by the thick lips of abderachman the unwashed! poor fellow! this was sincere gratitude without the slightest humbug; therefore, although he was an odoriferous savage, i could not help shaking him by the hand and wishing him a prosperous journey, assuring him that i would watch over his comrades like a father, while in my service. in a few instants these curious people were led by a sudden and new impulse; my farewell had perfectly delighted old moosa and hadji ali, whose hearts were won. "say good-by to the sit!" (the lady) they shouted to abderachman; but i assured them that it was not necessary to go through the whole operation to which i had been subjected, and that she would be contented if he only kissed her hand. this he did with the natural grace of a savage, and was led away crying by his companions, who embraced him with tears, and they parted with the affection of brothers. now, to hard-hearted and civilized people, who often school themselves to feel nothing, or as little as they can, for anybody, it may appear absurd to say that the scene was affecting, but somehow or other it was. and in the course of half an hour, those who would have deserted had become stanch friends, and we were all, black and white, mahometans and christians, wishing the pilgrim god-speed upon his perilous journey to mecca. the camels started, and, if the scene was affecting, the invalids began to be more affected by the tartar emetic. this was the third act of the comedy. the plot had been thoroughly ventilated; the last act exhibited the perfect fidelity of my tokrooris, in whom i subsequently reposed much confidence. in the afternoon of that day the brothers sherrif arrived. these were the most renowned of all the sword-hunters of the hamrans, of whom i have already spoken. they were well mounted, and, having met our caravan of camels on the route, heavily laden with dried flesh, and thus seen proofs of our success, they now offered to join our party. i am sorry to be obliged to confess that my ally, abou do, although a perfect nimrod in sport, an apollo in personal appearance, and a gentleman in manner, was a mean, covetous, and grasping fellow, and withal absurdly jealous. taher sherrif was a more celebrated hunter, having had the experience of at least twenty years in excess of abou do; and although the latter was as brave and dexterous as taher and his brothers, he wanted the cool judgment that is essential to a first-rate sportsman. the following day was the new year, january st, ; and with the four brothers sherrif and our party we formed a powerful body of hunters: six aggageers and myself all well mounted. with four gun-bearers and two camels, both of which carried water, we started in search of elephants. florian was unwell, and remained in camp. the immediate neighborhood was a perfect exhibition of gun-arabic-bearing mimosas. at this season the gum was in perfection, and the finest quality was now before us in beautiful amber-colored masses upon the stems and branches, varying from the size of a nutmeg to that of an orange. so great was the quantity, and so excellent were the specimens, that, leaving our horses tied to trees, both the arabs and myself gathered a large collection. this gum, although as hard as ice on the exterior, was limpid in the centre, resembling melted amber, and as clear as though refined by some artificial process. the trees were perfectly denuded of leaves from the extreme drought, and the beautiful balls of frosted yellow gum recalled the idea of the precious jewels upon the trees in the garden of the wonderful lamp of the "arabian nights." this gum was exceedingly sweet and pleasant to the taste; but, although of the most valuable quality, there was no hand to gather it in this forsaken although beautiful country; it either dissolved during the rainy season or was consumed by the baboons and antelopes. the aggageers took off from their saddles the skins of tanned antelope leather that formed the only covering to the wooden seats, and with these they made bundles of gum. when we remounted, every man was well laden. we were thus leisurely returning home through alternate plains and low open forest of mimosa, when taher sherrif, who was leading the party, suddenly reined up his horse and pointed to a thick bush, beneath which was a large gray but shapeless mass. he whispered, as i drew near, "oom gurrin" (mother of the horn), their name for the rhinoceros. i immediately dismounted, and with the short no. tatham rifle i advanced as near as i could, followed by suleiman, as i had sent all my gum-bearers directly home by the river when we had commenced our circuit. as i drew near i discovered two rhinoceroses asleep beneath a thick mass of bushes. they were lying like pigs, close together, so that at a distance i had been unable to distinguish any exact form. it was an awkward place. if i were to take the wind fairly i should have to fire through the thick bush, which would be useless; therefore i was compelled to advance with the wind directly from me to them. the aggageers remained about a hundred yards distant, while i told suleiman to return and hold my horse in readiness with his own. i then walked quietly to within about thirty yards of the rhinoceroses; but so curiously were they lying that it was useless to attempt a shot. in their happy dreams they must have been suddenly disturbed by the scent of an enemy, for, without the least warning, they suddenly sprang to their feet with astonishing quickness, and with a loud and sharp whiff, whiff, whiff! one of them charged straight at me. i fired my right-hand barrel in his throat, as it was useless to aim at the head protected by two horns at the nose. this turned him, but had no other effect, and the two animals thundered off together at a tremendous pace. now for a "tally-ho!" our stock of gum was scattered on the ground, and away went the aggageers in full speed after the two rhinoceroses. without waiting to reload, i quickly remounted my horse tetel, and with suleiman in company i spurred hard to overtake the flying arabs. tetel was a good strong cob, but not very fast; however, i believe he never went so well as upon that day, for, although an abyssinian horse, i had a pair of english spurs, which worked like missionaries. the ground was awkward for riding at full speed, as it was an open forest of mimosas, which, although wide apart, were very difficult to avoid, owing to the low crowns of spreading branches, and these, being armed with fish-hook thorns, would have been serious in a collision. i kept the party in view until in about a mile we arrived upon open ground. here i again applied the spurs, and by degrees i crept up, always gaining, until i at length joined the aggageers. here was a sight to drive a hunter wild! the two rhinoceroses were running neck and neck, like a pair of horses in harness, but bounding along at tremendous speed within ten yards of the leading hamran. this was taher sherrif, who, with his sword drawn and his long hair flying wildly behind him, urged his horse forward in the race, amid a cloud of dust raised by the two huge but active beasts, that tried every sinew of the horses. roder sherrif, with the withered arm, was second; with the reins hung upon the hawk-like claw that was all that remained of a hand, but with his naked sword grasped in his right, he kept close to his brother, ready to second his blow. abou do was third, his hair flying in the wind, his heels dashing against the flanks of his horse, to which he shouted in his excitement to urge him to the front, while he leaned forward with his long sword, in the wild energy of the moment, as though hoping to reach the game against all possibility. now for the spurs! and as these, vigorously applied, screwed an extra stride out of tetel, i soon found myself in the ruck of men, horses, and drawn swords. there were seven of us, and passing abou do, whose face wore an expression of agony at finding that his horse was failing, i quickly obtained a place between the two brothers, taher and roder sherrif. there had been a jealousy between the two parties of aggageers, and each was striving to outdo the other; thus abou do was driven almost to madness at the superiority of taher's horse, while the latter, who was the renowned hunter of the tribe, was determined that his sword should be the first to taste blood. i tried to pass the rhinoceros on my left, so as to fire close into the shoulder my remaining barrel with my right hand, but it was impossible to overtake the animals, who bounded along with undiminished speed. with the greatest exertion of men and horses we could only retain our position within about three or four yards of their tails--just out of reach of the swords. the only chance in the race was to hold the pace until the rhinoceroses should begin. to flag. the horses were pressed to the utmost; but we had already run about two miles, and the game showed no signs of giving in. on they flew, sometimes over open ground, then through low bush, which tried the horses severely, then through strips of open forest, until at length the party began to tail off, and only a select few kept their places. we arrived at the summit of a ridge, from which the ground sloped in a gentle inclination for about a mile toward the river. at the foot of this incline was thick thorny nabbuk jungle, for which impenetrable covert the rhinoceroses pressed at their utmost speed. never was there better ground for the finish of a race. the earth was sandy, but firm, and as we saw the winning-post in the jungle that must terminate the hunt, we redoubled our exertions to close with the unflagging game. suleiman's horse gave in--we had been for about twenty minutes at a killing pace. tetel, although not a fast horse, was good for a distance, and he now proved his power of endurance, as i was riding at least two stone heavier than any of the party. only four of the seven remained; and we swept down the incline, taher sherif still leading, and abou do the last! his horse was done, but not the rider; for, springing to the ground while at full speed, sword in hand, he forsook his tired horse, and, preferring his own legs, he ran like an antelope, and, for the first hundred yards i thought lie would really pass us and win the honor of first blow. it was of no use, the pace was too severe, and, although running wonderfully, he was obliged to give way to the horses. only three now followed the rhinoceroses--taher sherrif, his brother roder, and myself. i had been obliged to give the second place to roder, as he was a mere monkey in weight; but i was a close third. the excitement was intense. we neared the jungle, and the rhinoceroses began to show signs of flagging, as the dust puffed up before their nostrils, and, with noses close to the ground, they snorted as they still galloped on. oh for a fresh horse! "a horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!" we were within two hundred yards of the jungle; but the horses were all done. tetel reeled as i urged him forward. roder pushed ahead. we were close to the dense thorns, and the rhinoceroses broke into a trot; they were done! "now, taher, for-r-a-a-r-r-d! for-r-r-a-a-r-d, taher!!" away he went. he was close to the very heels of the beasts, but his horse could do no more than his present pace; still he gained upon the nearest. he leaned forward with his sword raised for the blow. another moment and the jungle would be reached! one effort more, and the sword flashed in the sunshine, as the rear-most rhinoceros disappeared in the thick screen of thorns, with a gash about a foot long upon his hind-quarters. taher sherrif shook his bloody sword in triumph above his head, but the rhinoceros was gone. we were fairly beaten, regularly outpaced; but i believe another two hundred yards would have given us the victory. "bravo, taher!" i shouted. he had ridden splendidly, and his blow had been marvellously delivered at an extremely long reach, as he was nearly out of his saddle when he sprang forward to enable the blade to obtain a cut at the last moment. he could not reach the hamstring, as his horse could not gain the proper position. we all immediately dismounted. the horses were thoroughly done, and i at once loosened the girths and contemplated my steed tetel, who, with head lowered and legs wide apart, was a tolerable example of the effects of pace. the other aggageers shortly arrived, and as the rival abou do joined us, taher sherrif quietly wiped the blood off his sword without making a remark. this was a bitter moment for the discomfited abou do. there is only one species of rhinoceros in abyssinia; this is the two-horned black rhinoceros, known in south africa as the keitloa. this animal is generally five feet six inches to five feet eight inches high at the shoulder, and, although so bulky and heavily built, it is extremely active, as our long and fruitless hunt had shown us. the skin is about half the thickness of that of the hippopotamus, but of extreme toughness and closeness of texture. when dried and polished it resembles horn. unlike the indian species of rhinoceros, the black variety of africa is free from folds, and the hide fits smoothly on the body like that of the buffalo. this two-horned black species is exceedingly vicious. it is one of the very few animals that will generally assume the offensive; it considers all creatures to be enemies, and, although it is not acute in either sight or hearing, it possesses so wonderful a power of scent that it will detect a stranger at a distance of five or six hundred yards should the wind be favorable. florian was now quite incapable of hunting, as he was in a weak state of health, and had for some months been suffering from chronic dysentery. i had several times cured him, but he had a weakness for the strongest black coffee, which, instead of drinking, like the natives, in minute cups, he swallowed wholesale in large basins several times a day; this was actual poison with his complaint, and he was completely ruined in health. at this time his old companion, johann schmidt, the carpenter, arrived, having undertaken a contract to provide for the italian zoological gardens a number of animals. i therefore proposed that the two old friends should continue together, while i would hunt by myself, with the aggageers, toward the east and south. this arrangement was agreed to, and we parted. our camels returned from geera with corn, accompanied by an abyssinian hunter, who was declared by abou do to be a good man and dexterous with the sword. we accordingly moved our camp, said adieu to florian and johann, and penetrated still deeper into the country of the bas-e. our course lay, as usual, along the banks of the river. we decided to encamp at a spot known to the arabs as deladilla. this was the forest upon the margin of the river where i had first shot the bull elephant when the aggageers fought with him upon foot. i resolved to fire the entire country on the following day, and to push still farther up the course of the settite to the foot of the mountains, and to return to this camp in about a fortnight, by which time the animals that had been scared away by the fire would have returned. accordingly, on the following morning, accompanied by a few of the aggageers, i started upon the south bank of the river, and rode for some distance into the interior, to the ground that was entirely covered with high withered grass. we were passing through a mass of kittar and thorn-bush, almost hidden by the immensely high grass, when, as i was ahead of the party, i came suddenly upon the tracks of rhinoceroses. these were so unmistakably recent that i felt sure we were not far from the animals themselves. as i had wished to fire the grass, i was accompanied by my tokrooris and my horse-keeper, mahomet no. . it was difficult ground for the men, and still more unfavorable for the horses, as large disjointed masses of stone were concealed in the high grass. we were just speculating as to the position of the rhinoceros, and thinking how uncommonly unpleasant it would be should he obtain our wind, when whiff! whiff! whiff! we heard the sharp whistling snort, with a tremendous rush through the high grass and thorns close to us, and at the same moment two of these determined brutes were upon us in full charge. i never saw such a scrimmage. sauve qui peut! there was no time for more than one look behind. i dug the spurs into aggahr's flanks, and clasping him round the neck i ducked my head down to his shoulder, well protected with my strong hunting-cap, and kept the spurs going as hard as i could ply them, blindly trusting to providence and my good horse. over big rocks, fallen trees, thick kittar thorns, and grass ten feet high, with the two infernal animals in full chase only a few feet behind me! i heard their abominable whiffing close to me, but so did my good horse, and the good old hunter flew over obstacles in a way i should have thought impossible, and he dashed straight under the hooked thorn-bushes and doubled like a hare. the aggageers were all scattered; mahomet no. was knocked over by a rhinoceros; all the men were sprawling upon the rocks with their guns, and the party was entirely discomfited. having passed the kittar thorn i turned, and, seeing that the beasts had gone straight on, i brought aggahr's head round and tried to give chase; but it was perfectly impossible. it was only a wonder that the horse had escaped in ground so difficult for riding. although my clothes were of the strongest and coarsest arab cotton cloth, which seldom tore, but simply lost a thread when caught in a thorn, i was nearly naked. my blouse was reduced to shreds. as i wore sleeves only half way from the shoulder to the elbow, my naked arms were streaming with blood. fortunately my hunting-cap was secured with a chin strap, and still more fortunately i had grasped the horse's neck; otherwise i must have been dragged out of the saddle by the hooked thorns. all the men were cut and bruised, some having fallen upon their heads among the rocks, and others had hurt their legs in falling in their endeavors to escape. mahomet no. , the horse-keeper, was more frightened than hurt, as he had been knocked down by the shoulder and not by the horn of the rhinoceros, as the animal had not noticed him; its attention was absorbed by the horse. i determined to set fire to the whole country immediately, and descending the hill toward the river to obtain a favorable wind, i put my men in a line, extending over about a mile along the river's bed, and they fired the grass in different places. with a loud roar the flame leaped high in air and rushed forward with astonishing velocity. the grass was as inflammable as tinder, and the strong north wind drove the long line of fire spreading in every direction through the country. chapter x. a day with the howartis--a hippo's gallant fight--abou do leaves us--three yards from a lion--days of delight--a lion's furious rage--astounding courage of a horse. a little before sunrise i accompanied the howartis, or hippopotamus-hunters, for a day's sport. at length we arrived at a large pool in which were several sand-banks covered with rushes, and many rocky islands. among these rocks was a herd of hippopotami, consisting of an old bull and several cows. a young hippo was standing, like an ugly little statue, on a protruding rock, while another infant stood upon its mother's back that listlessly floated on the water. this was an admirable place for the hunters. they desired me to lie down, and they crept into the jungle out of view of the river. i presently observed them stealthily descending the dry bed about two hundred paces above the spot where the hippos were basking behind the rocks. they entered the river and swam down the centre of the stream toward the rock. this was highly exciting. the hippos were quite unconscious of the approaching danger, as, steadily and rapidly, the hunters floated down the strong current. they neared the rock, and both heads disappeared as they purposely sank out of view; in a few seconds later they reappeared at the edge of the rock upon which the young hippo stood. it would be difficult to say which started first, the astonished young hippo into the water, or the harpoons from the hands of the howartis! it was the affair of a moment. the hunters dived as soon as they had hurled their harpoons, and, swimming for some distance under water, they came to the surface, and hastened to the shore lest an infuriated hippopotamus should follow them. one harpoon had missed; the other had fixed the bull of the herd, at which it had been surely aimed. this was grand sport! the bull was in the greatest fury, and rose to the surface, snorting and blowing in his impotent rage; but as the ambatch float was exceedingly large, and this naturally accompanied his movements, he tried to escape from his imaginary persecutor, and dived constantly, only to find his pertinacious attendant close to him upon regaining the surface. this was not to last long; the howartis were in earnest, and they at once called their party, who, with two of the aggageers, abou do and suleiman, were near at hand. these men arrived with the long ropes that form a portion of the outfit of hippo hunting. the whole party now halted on the edge of the river, while two men swam across with one end of the long rope. upon gaining the opposite bank, i observed that a second rope was made fast to the middle of the main line. thus upon our side we held the ends of two ropes, while on the opposite side they had only one; accordingly, the point of junction of the two ropes in the centre formed an acute angle. the object of this was soon practically explained. two men upon our side now each held a rope, and one of these walked about ten yards before the other. upon both sides of the river the people now advanced, dragging the rope on the surface of the water until they reached the ambatch float that was swimming to and fro, according to the movements of the hippopotamus below. by a dexterous jerk of the main line the float was now placed between the two ropes, and it was immediately secured in the acute angle by bringing together the ends of these ropes on our side. the men on the opposite bank now dropped their line, and our men hauled in upon the ambatch float that was held fast between the ropes. thus cleverly made sure, we quickly brought a strain upon the hippo, and, although i have had some experience in handling big fish, i never knew one to pull so lustily as the amphibious animal that we now alternately coaxed and bullied. he sprang out of the water, gnashed his huge jaws, snorted with tremendous rage, and lashed the river into foam. he then dived, and foolishly approached us beneath the water. we quickly gathered in the slack line, and took a round turn upon a large rock, within a few feet of the river. the hippo now rose to the surface, about ten yards from the hunters, and, jumping half out of the water, he snapped his great jaws together, endeavoring to catch the rope; but at the same instant two harpoons were launched into his side. disdaining retreat, and maddened with rage, the furious animal charged from the depths of the river, and, gaining a footing, he reared his bulky form from the surface, came boldly upon the sand-bank, and attacked the hunters open-mouthed. he little knew his enemy. they were not the men to fear a pair of gaping jaws, armed with a deadly array of tusks; but half a dozen lances were hurled at him, some entering his mouth from a distance of five or six paces. at the same time several men threw handfuls of sand into his enormous eyes. this baffled him more than the lances; he crunched the shafts between his powerful jaws like straws, but he was beaten by the sand, and, shaking his huge head, he retreated to the river. during his sally upon the shore two of the hunters had secured the ropes of the harpoons that had been fastened in his body just before his charge. he was now fixed by three of these deadly instruments; but suddenly one rope gave way, having been bitten through by the enraged beast, who was still beneath the water. immediately after this he appeared on the surface, and, without a moment's hesitation, he once more charged furiously from the water straight at the hunters, with his huge mouth open to such an extent that he could have accommodated two inside passengers. suleiman was wild with delight, and springing forward lance in hand, he drove it against the head of the formidable animal, but without effect. at the same time abou do met the hippo sword in hand, reminding me of perseus slaying the sea-monster that would devour andromeda; but the sword made a harmless gash, and the lance, already blunted against the rocks, refused to penetrate the tough hide. once more handfuls of sand were pelted upon his face, and, again repulsed by this blinding attack, he was forced to retire to his deep hole and wash it from his eyes. six times during the fight the valiant bull hippo quitted his watery fortress and charged resolutely at his pursuers. he had broken several of their lances in his jaws, other lances had been hurled, and, falling upon the rocks, they were blunted and would not penetrate. the fight had continued for three hours, and the sun was about to set; accordingly the hunters begged me to give him the coup de grace, as they had hauled him close to the shore, and they feared he would sever the rope with his teeth. i waited for a good opportunity, when he boldly raised his head from water about three yards from the rifle, and a bullet from the little fletcher between the eyes closed the last act. this spot was not far from the pyramidical hill beneath which i had fixed our camp, to which i returned after an amusing day's sport. the next morning i started to the mountains to explore the limit that i had proposed for my expedition on the settite. the arabs had informed me that a river of some importance descended from the mountains and joined the main stream about twelve miles from our camp. in about three hours and a half we arrived at hor mehetape, the stream that the arabs had reported. although a powerful torrent during the rains, it was insignificant as one of the tributaries to the settite, as the breadth did not exceed twenty-five yards. at this season it was nearly dry, and at no time did it appear to exceed the depth of ten or twelve feet. it was merely a rapid mountain torrent. but we were now among the mountains whose drainage causes the sudden rise of the atbara and the nile. abou do and suleiman had lately given us some trouble, especially the former, whose covetous nature had induced him to take much more than his share of the hides of rhinoceros and other animals shot. the horses of the aggageers had, moreover, been lamed by reckless riding, and abou do coolly proposed that i should lend them horses. having a long journey before me, i refused, and they became discontented. it was time to part, and i ordered him and his people to return to geera. as taher sherrif's party had disagreed with abou do some time previously, and had left us, we were now left without aggageers. on the following day i succeeded in killing a buffalo, which i ordered my men, after they had flayed it, to leave as a bait for lions. that night we were serenaded by the roaring of these animals in all directions, one of them having visited our camp, around which we discovered his footprints on the following morning. i accordingly took taher noor, with hadji ali and hassan, two of my trusty tokrooris, and went straight to the spot where i had left the carcass of the buffalo. as i had expected, nothing remained--not even a bone. the ground was much trampled, and tracks of lions were upon the sand; but the body of the buffalo had been dragged into the thorny jungle. i was determined, if possible, to get a shot; therefore i followed carefully the track left by the carcass, which had formed a path in the withered grass. unfortunately the lions had dragged the buffalo down wind; therefore, after i had arrived within the thick nabbuk and high grass, i came to the conclusion that my only chance would be to make a long circuit, and to creep up wind through the thorns, until i should be advised by my nose of the position of the carcass, as it would by this time be in a state of putrefaction, and the lions would most probably be with the body. accordingly i struck off to my left, and continuing straight forward for some hundred yards, i again struck into the thick jungle and came round to the wind. success depended on extreme caution; therefore i advised my three men to keep close behind me with the spare rifles, as i carried my single-barrelled beattie. this rifle was extremely accurate, therefore i had chosen it for this close work, when i expected to get a shot at the eye or forehead of a lion crouching in the bush. softly and with difficulty i crept forward, followed closely by my men, through the high withered grass, beneath the dense green nabbuk bushes, peering through the thick covert, with the nerves braced up to full pitch, and the finger on the trigger ready for any emergency. we had thus advanced for about half an hour, during which i frequently applied my nose to within a foot of the ground to catch the scent, when a sudden puff of wind brought the unmistakable smell of decomposing flesh. for the moment i halted, and, looking round to my men, i made a sign that we were near to the carcass, and that they were to be ready with the rifles. again i crept gently forward, bending and sometimes crawling beneath the thorns to avoid the slightest noise. as i approached the scent became stronger, until i at length felt that i must be close to the cause. this was highly exciting. fully prepared for a quick shot, i stealthily crept on. a tremendous roar in the dense thorns within a few feet of me suddenly brought my rifle to the shoulder. almost in the same instant i observed the three-quarter figure of either a lion or a lioness within three yards of me, on the other side of the bush under which i had been creeping. the foliage concealed the head, but i could almost have touched the shoulder with my rifle. much depended upon the bullet, and i fired exactly through the shoulder. another tremendous roar! and a crash in the bushes as the animal made a bound forward was succeeded immediately by a similar roar, as another lion took the exact position of the last, and stood wondering at the report of the rifle, and seeking for the cause of the intrusion. this was a grand lion with a shaggy mane; but my rifle was unloaded, and, keeping my eyes fixed on the beast, i stretched my hand back for a spare rifle. the lion remained standing, but gazing up wind with his head raised, snuffing in the air for a scent of the enemy. no rifle was put in my hand. i looked back for an instant, and saw my tokrooris faltering about five yards behind me. i looked daggers at them, gnashing my teeth and shaking my fist. they saw the lion, and taher noor snatching a rifle from hadji ali was just about to bring it; when hassan, ashamed, ran forward. the lion disappeared at the same moment. never was such a fine chance lost through the indecision of the gun bearers! i made a vow never to carry a single-barrelled rifle again when hunting large game. if i had had my dear little fletcher should have nailed the lion to a certainty. however, there was not much time for reflection. where was the first lion? some remains of the buffalo lay upon my right, and i expected to find the lion most probably crouching in the thorns somewhere near us. having reloaded, i took one of my reilly no. rifles and listened attentively for a sound. presently i heard within a few yards a low growl. taher noor drew his sword and, with his shield before him, he searched for the lion, while i crept forward toward the sound, which was again repeated. a low roar, accompanied by a rush in the jungle, showed us a glimpse of the lion as he bounded off within ten or twelve yards; but i had no chance to fire. again the low growl was repeated, and upon quietly creeping toward the spot i saw a splendid animal crouched upon the ground amid the withered and broken grass. the lioness lay dying with the bullet wound in the shoulder. occasionally in her rage she bit her own paw violently, and then struck and clawed the ground. a pool of blood lay by her side. she was about ten yards from us, and i instructed my men to throw a clod of earth at her (there were no stones), to prove whether she could rise, while i stood ready with the rifle. she merely replied with a dull roar, and i terminated her misery by a ball through the head. she was a beautiful animal. the patch of the bullet was sticking in the wound. she was shot through both shoulders, and as we were not far from the tent i determined to have her brought to camp upon a camel as an offering to my wife. accordingly i left my tokrooris, while i went with taher noor to fetch a camel. on our road through the thick jungle i was startled by a rush close to me. for the moment i thought it was a lion, but almost at the same instant i saw a fine nellut dashing away before me, and i killed it immediately with a bullet through the back of the neck. this was great luck, and we now required two camels, as in two shots i had killed a lioness and a nellut (a. strepsiceros). we remained for some time at our delightful camp at delladilla. every day, from sunrise to sunset, i was either on foot or in the saddle, without rest, except upon sundays. as our camp was full of meat, either dried or in the process of drying in festoons upon the trees, we had been a great attraction to the beasts of prey, which constantly prowled around our thorn fence during the night. one night in particular a lion attempted to enter, but had been repulsed by the tokrooris, who pelted him with firebrands. my people woke me up and begged me to shoot him; but as it was perfectly impossible to fire correctly through the hedge of thorns, i refused to be disturbed, but promised to hunt for him on the following day. throughout the entire night the lion prowled around the camp, growling and uttering his peculiar guttural sigh. not one of my people slept, as they declared he would bound into the camp and take somebody unless they kept up the watch-fires and drove him away with brands. the next day before sunrise i called hassan and hadji ali, whom i lectured severely upon their cowardice on a former occasion, and received their promise to follow me to death. i intrusted them with my two reillys no. , and with my little fletcher in hand i determined to spend the whole day in searching every thicket of the forest for lions, as i felt convinced that the animal that had disturbed us during the night was concealed somewhere within the neighboring jungle. the whole day passed fruitlessly. i had crept through the thickest thorns in vain; having abundance of meat, i had refused the most tempting shots at buffaloes and large antelopes, as i had devoted myself exclusively to lions. i was much disappointed, as the evening had arrived without a shot having been fired, and as the sun had nearly set i wandered slowly toward home. passing through alternate open glades of a few yards' width, hemmed in on all sides by thick jungle, i was carelessly carrying my rifle upon my shoulder, as i pushed my way through the opposing thorns, when a sudden roar, just before me, at once brought the rifle upon full cock, and i saw a magnificent lion standing in the middle of the glade, about ten yards from me. he had been lying on the ground, and had started to his feet upon hearing me approach through the jungle. for an instant he stood in an attitude of attention, as we were hardly visible; but at the same moment i took a quick but sure shot with the little fletcher. he gave a convulsive bound, but rolled over backward; before he could recover himself i fired the left-hand barrel. it was a glorious sight. i had advanced a few steps into the glade, and hassan had quickly handed me a spare rifle, while taher noor stood by me sword in hand. the lion in the greatest fury, with his shaggy mane bristling in the air, roared with death-like growls, as open-mouthed he endeavored to charge upon us; but he dragged his hind-quarters upon the ground, and i saw immediately that the little fletcher had broken his spine. in his tremendous exertions to attack he rolled over and over, gnashing his horrible jaws and tearing holes in the sandy ground at each blow of his tremendous paws that would have crushed a man's skull like an egg-shell. seeing that he was hors de combat i took it coolly, as it was already dusk, and the lion having rolled into a dark and thick bush i thought it would be advisable to defer the final attack, as he would be dead before morning. we were not ten minutes' walk from the camp, at which we quickly arrived, and my men greatly rejoiced at the discomfiture of their enemy, as they were convinced that he was the same lion that had attempted to enter the zareeba. on the following morning before sunrise i started with nearly all my people and a powerful camel, with the intention of bringing the lion home entire. i rode my horse tetel, who had frequently shown great courage, and i wished to prove whether he would advance to the body of a lion. upon arrival near the spot which we supposed to have been the scene of the encounter, we were rather puzzled, as there was nothing to distinguish the locality; one place exactly resembled another, as the country was flat and sandy, interspersed with thick jungle of green nabbuk. we accordingly spread out to beat for the lion. presently hadji ali cried out, "there he lies, dead!" and i immediately rode to the spot together with the people. a tremendous roar greeted us as the lion started to his fore-feet, and with his beautiful mane erect and his great hazel eyes flashing fire he gave a succession of deep short roars, and challenged us to fight. this was a grand picture. he looked like a true lord of the forest; but i pitied the poor brute, as he was helpless, and although his spirit was game to the last, his strength was paralyzed by a broken back. it was a glorious opportunity for the horse. at the first unexpected roar the camel had bolted with its rider. the horse had for a moment started on one side, and the men had scattered; but in an instant i had reined tetel up, and i now rode straight toward the lion, who courted the encounter about twenty paces distant. i halted exactly opposite the noble-looking beast, who, seeing me in advance of the party, increased his rage and growled deeply, fixing his glance upon the horse. i now patted tetel on the neck and spoke to him coaxingly. he gazed intently at the lion, erected his mane, and snorted, but showed no signs of retreat. "bravo! old boy!" i said, and, encouraging him by caressing his neck with my hand, i touched his flank gently with my heel. i let him just feel my hand upon the rein, and with a "come along, old lad," tetel slowly but resolutely advanced step by step toward the infuriated lion, that greeted him with continued growls. the horse several times snorted loudly and stared fixedly at the terrible face before him; but as i constantly patted and coaxed him he did not refuse to advance. i checked him when within about six yards of the lion. this would have made a magnificent picture, as the horse, with astounding courage, faced the lion at bay. both animals kept their eyes fixed upon each other, the one beaming with rage, the other cool with determination. this was enough. i dropped the reins upon his neck; it was a signal that tetel perfectly understood, and he stood firm as a rock, for he knew that i was about to fire. i took aim at the head of the glorious but distressed lion, and a bullet from the little fletcher dropped him dead. tetel never flinched at a shot. i now dismounted, and, having patted and coaxed the horse, i led him up to the body of the lion, which i also patted, and then gave my hand to the horse to smell. he snorted once or twice, and as i released my hold of the reins and left him entirely free, he slowly lowered his head and sniffed the mane of the dead lion. he then turned a few paces upon one side and commenced eating the withered grass beneath the nabbuk bushes. my arabs were perfectly delighted with this extraordinary instance of courage exhibited by the horse. i had known that the beast was disabled, but tetel had advanced boldly toward the angry jaws of a lion that appeared about to spring. the camel was now brought to the spot and blindfolded, while we endeavored to secure the lion upon its back. as the camel knelt, it required the united exertions of eight men, including myself, to raise the ponderous animal and to secure it across the saddle. although so active and cat-like in its movements, a full-grown lion weighs about five hundred and fifty pounds. having secured it we shortly arrived in camp. the coup d'oeil was beautiful, as the camel entered the enclosure with the shaggy head and massive paws of the dead lion hanging upon one flank, while the tail nearly descended to the ground upon the opposite side. it was laid at full length before my wife, to whom the claws were dedicated as a trophy to be worn around the neck as a talisman. not only are the claws prized by the arabs, but the mustache of the lion is carefully preserved and sewn in a leather envelope, to be worn as an amulet; such a charm is supposed to protect the wearer from the attacks of wild animals. we were now destined to be deprived of two members of the party. mahomet had become simply unbearable, and he was so impertinent that i was obliged to take a thin cane from one of the arabs and administer a little physical advice. an evil spirit possessed the man, and he bolted off with some of the camel men who were returning to geera with dried meat. our great loss was barrake. she had persisted in eating the fruit of the hegleek, although she had suffered from dysentery upon several occasions. she was at length attacked with congestion of the liver. my wife took the greatest care of her, and for weeks she had given her the entire produce of the goats, hoping that milk would keep up her strength; but she died after great suffering, and we buried the poor creature, and moved our camp. chapter xi. the bull-elephant--daring hamrans--the elephant helpless--visited by a minstrel--a determined musician--the nest of the outlaws--the atbara river having explored the settite into the gorge of the mountain chain of abyssinia, we turned due south from our camp at deladilla, and at a distance of twelve miles reached the river royan. our course now was directed up this stream, and at the junction of the hor mai gubba, or habbuk river, some of my arabs, observing fresh tracks of horses on the sand, went in search of the aggageers of taher sherrif's party, whom they had expected to meet at this point. soon after, they returned with the aggageers, whose camp was but a quarter of a mile distant. i agreed to have a hunt for elephants the next day with taher sherrif, and before the following sunrise we had started up the course of the royan for a favorite resort of elephants. we had ridden about thirty miles, and were beginning to despair, when suddenly we turned a sharp angle in the watercourse, and taher sherrif, who was leading, immediately reined in his horse and backed him toward the party. i followed his example, and we were at once concealed by the sharp bend of the river. he now whispered that a bull-elephant was drinking from a hole it had scooped in the sand, not far around the corner. without the slightest confusion the hunters at once fell quietly into their respective places, taher sherrif leading, while i followed closely in the line, with my tokrooris bringing up the rear; we were a party of seven horses. upon turning the corner we at once perceived the elephant, that was still drinking. it was a fine bull. the enormous ears were thrown forward, as the head was lowered in the act of drawing up the water through the trunk. these shaded the eyes, and with the wind favorable we advanced noiselessly upon the sand to within twenty yards before we were perceived. the elephant then threw up its head, and with the ears flapping forward it raised its trunk for an instant, and then slowly but easily ascended the steep bank and retreated. the aggageers now halted for about a minute to confer together, and then followed in their original order up the crumbled bank. we were now on most unfavorable ground; the fire that had cleared the country we had hitherto traversed had been stopped by the bed of the torrent. we were thus plunged at once into withered grass above our heads, unless we stood in the stirrups. the ground was strewn with fragments of rock, and altogether it was ill-adapted for riding. however, taher sherrif broke into a trot, followed by the entire party, as the elephant was not in sight. we ascended a hill, and when near the summit we perceived the elephant about eighty yards ahead. it was looking behind during its retreat, by swinging its huge head from side to side, and upon seeing us approach it turned suddenly round and halted. "be ready, and take care of the rocks!" said taher sherrif, as i rode forward by his side. hardly had he uttered these words of caution when the bull gave a vicious jerk with its head, and with a shrill scream charged down upon us with the greatest fury. away we all went, helter-skelter, through the dry grass, which whistled in my ears, over the hidden rocks, at full gallop, with the elephant tearing after us for about a hundred and eighty yards at a tremendous pace. tetel was a sure-footed horse, and being unshod he never slipped upon the stones. thus, as we all scattered in different directions, the elephant became confused and relinquished the chase. it had been very near me at one time, and in such ground i was not sorry when it gave up the hunt. we now quickly united and again followed the elephant, that had once more retreated. advancing at a canter, we shortly came in view. upon seeing the horses the bull deliberately entered a stronghold composed of rocky and uneven ground, in the clefts of which grew thinly a few leafless trees of the thickness of a man's leg. it then turned boldly toward us, and stood determinedly at bay. now came the tug of war! taher sherrif came close to me, and said, "you had better shoot the elephant, as we shall have great difficulty in this rocky ground." this i declined, as i wished the fight ended as it had been commenced, with the sword; and i proposed that he should endeavor to drive the animal to more favorable ground. "never mind," replied taher, "inshallah (please god) he shall not beat us." he now advised me to keep as close to him as possible and to look sharp for a charge. the elephant stood facing us like a statue; it did not move a muscle beyond a quick and restless action of the eyes, that were watching all sides. taher sherrif and his youngest brother, ibrahim, now separated, and each took opposite sides of the elephant, and then joined each other about twenty yards behind it. i accompanied them, until taher advised me to keep about the same distance upon the left flank. my tokrooris kept apart from the scene, as they were not required. in front of the elephant were two aggageers, one of whom was the renowned roder sherrif, with the withered arm. all being ready for action, roder now rode slowly toward the head of the cunning old bull, who was quietly awaiting an opportunity to make certain of some one who might give him a good chance. roder sherrif rode a bay mare that, having been thoroughly trained to these encounters, was perfect at her work. slowly and coolly she advanced toward her wary antagonist until within about eight or nine yards of the elephant's head. the creature never moved, and the mise en scene was beautiful. not a word was spoken, and we kept our places amid utter stillness, which was at length broken by a snort from the mare, who gazed intently at the elephant, as though watching for the moment of attack. one more pace forward, and roder sat coolly upon his mare, with his eyes fixed upon those of the elephant. for an instant i saw the white of the eye nearest to me. "look out, roder, he's coming!" i exclaimed. with a shrill scream the elephant dashed upon him like an avalanche. round went the mare as though upon a pivot, and away, over rocks and stones, flying like a gazelle, with the monkey-like form of little roder sherrif leaning forward, and looking over his left shoulder as the elephant rushed after him. for a moment i thought he must be caught. had the mare stumbled, all were lost; but she gained in the race after a few quick, bounding strides, and roder, still looking behind him, kept his distance so close to the elephant that its outstretched trunk was within a few feet of the mare's tail. taher sherrif and his brother ibrahim swept down like falcons in the rear. in full speed they dexterously avoided the trees until they arrived upon open ground, when they dashed up close to the hind-quarters of the furious elephant, which, maddened with the excitement, heeded nothing but roder and his mare, that were almost within its grasp. when close to the tail of the elephant taher sherrif's sword flashed from its sheath, as grasping his trusty blade he leaped nimbly to the ground, while ibrahim caught the reins of his horse. two or three bounds on foot, with the sword clutched in both hands, and he was close behind the elephant. a bright glance shone like lightning as the sun struck upon the descending steel; this was followed by a dull crack, as the sword cut through skin and sinews, and settled deep in the bone, about twelve inches above the foot. at the next stride the elephant halted dead short in the midst of its tremendous charge. taher had jumped quickly on one side, and had vaulted into the saddle with his naked sword in hand. at the same moment roder, who had led the chase, turned sharp round, and again faced the elephant as before. stooping quickly from the saddle, he picked up from the ground a handful of dirt, which he threw into the face of the vicious-looking animal, that once more attempted to rush upon him. it was impossible! the foot was dislocated, and turned up in front like an old shoe. in an instant taher was once more on foot, and the sharp sword slashed the remaining leg. the great bull-elephant could not move! the first cut with the sword had utterly disabled it; the second was its deathblow. the arteries of the leg were divided, and the blood spouted in jets from the wounds. i wished to terminate its misery by a bullet behind the ear, but taher sherrif begged me not to fire, as the elephant would quickly bleed to death without pain, and an unnecessary shot might attract the base, who would steal the flesh and ivory during our absence. we were obliged to return immediately to our far distant camp, and the hunters resolved to accompany their camels to the spot on the following day. we turned our horses' heads, and rode directly toward home, which we did not reach until nearly midnight, having ridden upward of sixty miles during the day. the hunting of taher sherrif and his brothers was superlatively beautiful; with an immense amount of dash there was a cool, sportsman-like manner in their mode of attack that far excelled the impetuous and reckless onset of abou do. it was difficult to decide which to admire the more, the coolness and courage of him who led the elephant, or the extraordinary skill and activity of the aggahr who dealt the fatal blow. after hunting and exploring for some days in this neighborhood, i determined to follow the bed of the royan to its junction with the settite. we started at daybreak, and after a long march along the sandy bed, hemmed in by high banks or by precipitous cliffs of sandstone, we arrived at the junction. having explored the entire country and enjoyed myself thoroughly, i was now determined to pay our promised visit to mek nimmur. since our departure from the egyptian territory his country had been invaded by a large force, according to orders sent from the governor-general of the soudan. mek nimmur as usual retreated to the mountains, but mai gubba and a number of his villages were utterly destroyed by the egyptians. he would under these circumstances be doubly suspicious of strangers. we were fortunate, however, in unexpectedly meeting a party of mek nimmur's followers on a foray, who consented to guide us to his encampment. accordingly on march th, we found ourselves in a rich and park-like valley occupied by his people, and the day following was spent in receiving visits from the head men. messengers soon after arrived from mek nimmur inviting us to pay him a visit at his residence. as we were conversing with mek nimmur's messengers through the medium of taher noor, who knew their language, our attention was attracted by the arrival of a tremendous swell, who at a distance i thought must be mek nimmur himself. a snow-white mule carried an equally snow-white person, whose tight white pantaloons looked as though he had forgotten his trousers and had mounted in his drawers. he carried a large umbrella to shade his complexion; a pair of handsome silver-mounted pistols were arranged upon his saddle, and a silver-hilted curved sword, of the peculiar abyssinian form, hung by his side. this grand personage was followed by an attendant, also mounted upon a mule, while several men on foot accompanied them, one of whom carried his lance and shield. upon near approach he immediately dismounted and advanced toward us, bowing in a most foppish manner, while his attendant followed him on foot with an enormous violin, which he immediately handed to him. this fiddle was very peculiar in shape, being a square, with an exceedingly long neck extending from one corner. upon this was stretched a solitary string, and the bow was very short and much bent. this was an abyssinian paganini. he was a professional minstrel of the highest grade, who had been sent by mek nimmur to welcome us on our arrival. these musicians are very similar to the minstrels of ancient times. they attend at public rejoicings, and at births, deaths, and marriages of great personages, upon which occasions they extemporize their songs according to circumstances. my hunting in the base country formed his theme, and for at least an hour he sang of my deeds in an extremely loud and disagreeable voice, while he accompanied himself upon his fiddle, which he held downward like a violoncello. during the whole of his song he continued in movement, marching with a sliding step to the front, and gliding to the right and left in a manner that, though intended to be graceful, was extremely comic. the substance of this minstrelsy was explained to me by taher noor, who listened eagerly to the words, which he translated with evident satisfaction. of course, like all minstrels, he was an absurd flatterer, and, having gathered a few facts for his theme, he wandered slightly from the truth in his poetical description of my deeds. he sang of me as though i had been richard coeur de lion, and recounted, before an admiring throng of listeners, how i had wandered with a young wife from my own distant country to fight the terrible base; how i had slain them in a single combat, and bow elephants and lions were struck down like lambs and kids by my hands. that during my absence in the hunt my wife had been carried off by the base; that i had, on my return to my pillaged camp, galloped off in chase, and, overtaking the enemy, hundreds had fallen by my rifle and sword, and i had liberated and recovered the lady, who now had arrived safe with her lord in the country of the great mek nimmur, etc., etc. this was all very pretty, no doubt, and as true as most poetical and musical descriptions; but i felt certain that there must be something to pay for this flattering entertainment. if you are considered to be a great man, a present is invariably expected in proportion to your importance. i suggested to taher noor that i must give him a couple of dollars. "what!" said taher noor, "a couple of dollars? impossible! a musician of his standing is accustomed to receive thirty and forty dollars from great people for so beautiful and honorable a song." this was somewhat startling. i began to reflect upon the price of a box at her majesty's theatre in london; but there i was not the hero of the opera. this minstrel combined the whole affair in a most simple manner. he was verdi, costa, and orchestra all in one. he was a thorough macaulay as historian, therefore i had to pay the composer as well as the fiddler. i compromised the matter, and gave him a few dollars, as i understood that he was mek nimmur's private minstrel; but i never parted with my dear maria theresa (* the austrian dollar, that is the only large current coin in that country.) with so much regret as upon that occasion, and i begged him not to incommode himself by paying us another visit, or, should he be obliged to do so, i trusted he would not think it necessary to bring his violin. the minstrel retired in the same order that he had arrived, and i watched his retreating figure with unpleasant reflections, that were suggested by doubts as to whether i had paid him too little or too much. taher noor thought that he was underpaid; my own opinion was that i had brought a curse upon myself equal to a succession of london organ-grinders, as i fully expected that other minstrels, upon hearing of the austrian dollars, would pay us a visit and sing of my great deeds. in the afternoon we were sitting beneath the shade of our tamarind tree, when we thought we could perceive our musical friend returning. as he drew near, we were convinced that it was the identical minstrel, who had most probably been sent with a message from mek nimmur. there he was, in snow-white raiment, on the snow-white mule, with the mounted attendant and the violin as before. he dismounted upon arrival opposite the camp, and approached with his usual foppish bow; but we looked on in astonishment: it was not our paganini, it was another minstrel! who was determined to sing an ode in our praise. i felt that this was an indirect appeal to maria theresa, and i at once declared against music. i begged him not to sing; "my wife had a headache--i disliked the fiddle--could he play anything else instead?" and i expressed a variety of polite excuses, but to no purpose; he insisted upon singing. if i disliked the fiddle, he would sing without an accompaniment, but he could not think of insulting so great a man as myself by returning without an ode to commemorate our arrival. i was determined that he should not sing; he was determined that he would, therefore i desired him to leave my camp. this he agreed to do, provided i would allow him to cross the stream and sing to my tokrooris in my praise, beneath a neighboring tree about fifty yards distant. he remounted his mule with his violin, to ford the muddy stream, and descended the steep bank, followed by his attendant on foot, who drove the unwilling mule. upon arrival at the brink of the dirty brook, that was about three feet deep, the mule positively refused to enter the water, and stood firm with its fore feet sunk deep in the mud. the attendant attempted to push it on behind, and at the same time gave it a sharp blow with his sheathed sword. this changed the scene to the "opera comique." in one instant the mule gave so vigorous and unexpected a kick into the bowels of the attendant that he fell upon his back, heels, uppermost, while at the same moment the minstrel, in his snow-white garments, was precipitated head fore-most into the muddy brook, and, for the moment disappearing, the violin alone could be seen floating on the surface. a second later, a wretched-looking object, covered with slime and filth, emerged from the slongh; this was paganini the second! who, after securing his fiddle, that had stranded on a mud-bank, scrambled up the steel slope, amid the roars of laughter of my people and of ourselves, while the perverse mule, having turned harmony into discord, kicked up its heels and galloped off, braying an ode in praise of liberty, as the "lay of the last minstrel." the discomfited fiddler was wiped down by my tokrooris, who occasionally burst into renewed fits of laughter during the operation. the mule was caught, and the minstrel remounted, and returned home completely out of tune. on the following morning at sunrise i mounted my horse, and, accompanied by taher noor and bacheet, i rode to pay my respects to mek nimmur. our route lay parallel to the stream, and after a ride of about two miles through a fine park-like country, bounded by the abyssinian alps about fifteen miles distant, i observed a crowd of people round a large tamarind tree, near which were standing a number of horses, mules, and dromedaries. this was the spot upon which i was to meet mek nimmur. upon my approach the crowd opened, and, having dismounted, i was introduced by taher noor to the great chief. he was a man of about fifty, and exceedingly dirty in appearance. he sat upon an angarep, surrounded by his people; lying on either side upon his seat were two brace of pistols, and within a few yards stood his horse ready saddled. he was prepared for fight or flight, as were also his ruffianly looking followers, who were composed of abyssinians and jaleens. after a long and satisfactory conversation i retired. immediately on my arrival at camp i despatched wat gamma with a pair of beautiful double-barrelled pistols, which i begged mek nimmur to accept. on march th we said good-by and started for the bahr salaam. the next few days we spent in exploring the salaam and angrab rivers. they are interesting examples of the destructive effect of water, that has during the course of ages cut through and hollowed out, in the solid rock, a succession of the most horrible precipices and caverns, in which the maddened torrents, rushing from the lofty chain of mountains, boil along until they meet the atbara and assist to flood the nile. no one could explore these tremendous torrents, the settite, royan, angrab, salaam, and atbara, without at once comprehending their effect upon the waters of the nile. the magnificent chain of mountains from which they flow is not a simple line of abrupt sides, but the precipitous slopes are the walls of a vast plateau, that receives a prodigious rainfall in june, july, august, and until the middle of september, the entire drainage of which is carried away by the above-named channels to inundate lower egypt. i thoroughly explored the beautiful country of the salaam and angrab, and on the th of april we pushed on for gallabat, the frontier market-town of abyssinia. we arrived at our old friend, the atbara river, at the sharp angle as it issues from the mountains. at this place it was in its infancy. the noble atbara, whose course we had tracked for hundreds of weary miles, and whose tributaries we had so carefully examined, was here a second-class mountain torrent, about equal to the royan, and not to be named in comparison with the salaam or angrab. the power of the atbara depended entirely upon the western drainage of the abyssinian alps; of itself it was insignificant until aided by the great arteries of the mountain-chain. the junction of the salaam at once changed its character, and the settite or taccazzy completed its importance as the great river of abyssinia, that has washed down the fertile soil of those regions to create the delta of lower egypt, and to perpetuate that delta by annual deposits, that are now forming a new egypt beneath the waters of the mediterranean. we had seen the atbara a bed of glaring sand--a mere continuation of the burning desert that surrounded its course--fringed by a belt of withered trees, like a monument sacred to the memory of a dead river. we had seen the sudden rush of waters when, in the still night, the mysterious stream had invaded the dry bed and swept all before it like an awakened giant; we knew at that moment "the rains were falling in abyssinia," although the sky above us was without a cloud. we had subsequently witnessed that tremendous rainfall, and seen the atbara at its grandest flood. we had traced each river and crossed each tiny stream that fed the mighty atbara from the mountain-chain, and we now, after our long journey, forded the atbara in its infancy, hardly knee-deep, over its rocky bed of about sixty yards' width, and camped in the little village of toganai, on the rising ground upon the opposite side. it was evening, and we sat upon an angarep among the lovely hills that surrounded us, and looked down upon the atbara for the last time, as the sun sank behind the rugged mountain of ras el feel (the elephant's head). once more i thought of that wonderful river nile, that could flow forever through the exhausting deserts of sand, while the atbara, during the summer months, shrank to a dry skeleton, although the powerful affluents, the salaam and the settite, never ceased to flow; every drop of their waters was evaporated by the air and absorbed by the desert sand in the bed of the atbara, two hundred miles above its junction with the nile! the atbara exploration was completed, and i looked forward to the fresh enterprise of exploring new rivers and lower latitudes, that should unravel the mystery of the nile! chapter xii. abyssinian slave-girls--khartoum--the soudan under egyptian rule--slave-trade in the soudan--the obstacles ahead. a rapid march of sixteen miles brought us to metemma or gallabat. as we descended the valley we perceived great crowds of people in and about the town, which, in appearance, was merely a repetition of katariff. it was market-day, and as we descended the hill and arrived in the scene below, with our nine camels heavily laden with the heads and horns of a multitude of different beasts, from the gaping jaws of hippopotami to the vicious-looking heads of rhinoceroses and buffaloes, while the skins of lions and various antelopes were piled above masses of the much-prized hide of the rhinoceros, we were beset by crowds of people, who were curious to know whence so strange a party had come. we formed a regular procession through the market, our tokrooris feeling quite at home among so many of their brethren. while here i visited the establishments of the various slave merchants. these were arranged under large tents formed of matting, and contained many young girls of extreme beauty, ranging from nine to seventeen years of age. these lovely captives, of a rich brown tint, with delicately formed features, and eyes like those of the gazelle, were natives of the galla, on the borders of abyssinia, from which country they were brought by the abyssinian traders to be sold for the turkish harems. although beautiful, these girls are useless for hard labor; they quickly fade away, and die unless kindly treated. they are the venuses of that country, and not only are their faces and figures perfection, but they become extremely attached to those who show them kindness, and they make good and faithful wives. there is something peculiarly captivating in the natural grace and softness of these young beauties, whose hearts quickly respond to those warmer feelings of love that are seldom known among the sterner and coarser tribes. their forms are peculiarly elegant and graceful; the hands and feet are exquisitely delicate; the nose is generally slightly aquiline, the nostrils large and finely shaped; the hair is black and glossy, reaching to about the middle of the back, but rather coarse in texture. these girls, although natives of galla, invariably call themselves abyssinians, and are generally known under that name. they are exceedingly proud and high-spirited, and are remarkably quick at learning. at khartoum several of the europeans of high standing have married these charming ladies, who have invariably rewarded their husbands by great affection and devotion. the price of one of these beauties of nature at gallabat was from twenty-five to forty dollars! on the march from gallabat to the rahad river i was so unfortunate as to lose my two horses, gazelle and aggahr. the sudden change of food from dry grass to the young herbage which had appeared after a few showers, brought on inflammation of the bowels, which carried them off in a few hours. we now travelled for upward of a hundred miles along the bank of the rahad, through a monotonous scene of flat alluvial soil. the entire country would be a mine of wealth were it planted with cotton, which could be transported by river to katariff, and thence directly to souakim. i shall not weary the reader with the details of the rest of our journey to khartoum, the capital of the soudan provinces, at which we arrived on the th of june. the difference between the appearance of khartoum at the distance of a mile, with the sun shining upon the bright river nile in the foreground, and its appearance upon close inspection, was equal to the difference in the scenery of a theatre as regarded from the boxes or from the stage. even that painful exposure of an optical illusion would be trifling compared with the imposture of khartoum. the sense of sight had been deceived by distance, but the sense of smell was outraged by innumerable nuisances, when we set foot within the filthy and miserable town. after winding through some narrow, dusty lanes, hemmed in by high walls of sun-baked bricks that had fallen in gaps in several places, exposing gardens of prickly pears and date palms, we at length arrived at a large open place, that, if possible, smelt more strongly than the landing spot. around this square, which was full of holes where the mud had been excavated for brick-making, were the better class of houses; this was the belgravia of khartoum. in the centre of a long mud wall, ventilated by certain attempts at frameless windows, guarded by rough wooden bars, we perceived a large archway with closed doors. above this entrance was a shield, with a device that gladdened my english eyes: there was the british lion and the unicorn! not such a lion as i had been accustomed to meet in his native jungles, a yellow cowardly fellow that had often slunk away from the very prey from which i had driven him; but a real red british lion, that, although thin and ragged in the unhealthy climate of khartoum, looked as though he was pluck to the back-bone. this was the english consulate. the consul was absent, in the hope of meeting speke and grant in the upper nile regions, on the road from zanzibar, but he had kindly placed rooms at our disposal. for some months we resided at khartoum, as it was necessary to make extensive preparations for the white nile expedition, and to await the arrival of the north wind, which would enable us to start early in december. although the north and south winds blow alternately for six months, and the former commences in october, it does not extend many degrees southward until the beginning of december. this is a great drawback to white nile exploration, as, when near the north side of the equator, the dry season commences in november and closes in february; thus the departure from khartoum should take place by a steamer in the latter part of september. that would enable the traveller to leave gondokoro, lat. n. "degrees" ', shortly before november. he would then secure three months of favorable weather for an advance inland. khartoum is a wretchedly unhealthy town, containing about thirty thousand inhabitants, exclusive of troops. in spite of its unhealthiness and low situation, on a level with the river at the junction of the blue and white niles, it is the general emporium for the trade of the soudan, from which the productions of the country are transported to lower egypt, i.e. ivory, hides, senna, gum arabic, and beeswax. during my experience of khartoum it was the hotbed of the slave-trade. it will be remarked that the exports from the soudan are all natural productions. there is nothing to exhibit the industry or capacity of the natives. the ivory is the produce of violence and robbery; the hides are the simple sun-dried skins of oxen; the senna grows wild upon the desert; the gum arabic exudes spontaneously from the bushes of the jungle; and the bees-wax is the produce of the only industrious creatures in that detestable country. when we regard the general aspect of the soudan, it is extreme wretchedness. the rainfall is uncertain and scanty; thus the country is a desert, dependent entirely upon irrigation. although cultivation is simply impossible without a supply of water, one of the most onerous taxes is that upon the sageer or water-wheel, with which the fields are irrigated on the borders of the nile. it would appear natural that, instead of a tax, a premium should be offered for the erection of such means of irrigation, which would increase the revenue by extending cultivation, the produce of which might bear an impost. with all the talent and industry of the native egyptians, who must naturally depend upon the waters of the nile for their existence, it is extraordinary that for thousands of years they have adhered to their original simple form of mechanical irrigation, without improvement. the general aspect of the soudan is that of misery; nor is there a single feature of attraction to recompense a european for the drawbacks of pestilential climate and brutal associations. to a stranger it appears a superlative folly that the egyptian government should have retained a possession the occupation of which is wholly unprofitable, the receipts being far below the expenditure malgre the increased taxation. at so great a distance from the sea-coast and hemmed in by immense deserts, there is a difficulty of transport that must nullify all commercial transactions on an extended scale. the great and most important article of commerce as an export from the soudan is gum arabic. this is produced by several species of mimosa, the finest quality being a product of kordofan; the other natural productions exported are senna, hides, and ivory. all merchandise both to and from the soudan must be transported upon camels, no other animals being adapted to the deserts. the cataracts of the nile between assouan and khartoum rendering the navigation next to impossible, camels are the only medium of transport, and the uncertainty of procuring them without great delay is the trader's greatest difficulty. the entire country is subject to droughts that occasion a total desolation, and the want of pasture entails starvation upon both cattle and camels, rendering it at certain seasons impossible to transport the productions of the country, and thus stagnating all enterprise. upon existing conditions the soudan is worthless, having neither natural capabilities nor political importance; but there is, nevertheless, a reason that first prompted its occupation by the egyptians, and that is, the soudan supplies slaves. without the white nile trade khartoum* would almost cease to exist; (* this was written about twenty years ago, and does not apply to the khartoum of to-day. in the khedive of egypt despatched an expedition under sir samuel baker to suppress slavery in the soudan and central africa. to the success of that expedition, and to the efforts of colonel (now general) gordon, who succeeded to the command of the soudan, was owing the suppression of the traffic in slaves. within the last few weeks, under the stress of circumstances, general gordon has been forced to promise the removal of this prohibition of slavery.--e. j. w.) and that trade is kidnapping and murder. the character of the khartoumers needs no further comment. the amount of ivory brought down from the white nile is a mere bagatelle as an export, the annual value being about , pounds. the people for the most part enraged in the nefarious traffic of the white nile are syrians, copts, turks, circassians, and some few europeans. so closely connected with the difficulties of my expedition is that accursed slave-trade, that the so-called ivory trade of the white nile requires an explanation. throughout the soudan money is exceedingly scarce and the rate of interest exorbitant, varying, according to the securities, from thirty-six to eighty per cent. this fact proves general poverty and dishonesty, and acts as a preventive to all improvement. so high and fatal a rate deters all honest enterprise, and the country must lie in ruin under such a system. the wild speculator borrows upon such terms, to rise suddenly like a rocket, or to fall like its exhausted stick. thus, honest enterprise being impossible, dishonesty takes the lead, and a successful expedition to the white nile is supposed to overcome all charges. there are two classes of white nile traders, the one possessing capital, the other being penniless adventurers. the same system of operations is pursued by both, but that of the former will be evident from the description of the latter. a man without means forms an expedition, and borrows money for this purpose at per cent. after this fashion: he agrees to repay the lender in ivory at one-half its market value. having obtained the required sum, he hires several vessels and engages from to men, composed of arabs and runaway villains from distant countries, who have found an asylum from justice in the obscurity of khartoum. he purchases guns and large quantities of ammunition for his men, together with a few hundred pounds of glass beads. the piratical expedition being complete, he pays his men five months' wages in advance, at the rate of forty-five piastres (nine shillings) per month, and he agrees to give them eighty piastres per month for any period exceeding the five months for which they are paid. his men receive their advance partly in cash and partly in cotton stuffs for clothes at an exorbitant price. every man has a strip of paper, upon which is written, by the clerk of the expedition, the amount he has received both in goods and money, and this paper he must produce at the final settlement. the vessels sail about december, and on arrival at the desired locality the party disembark and proceed into the interior, until they arrive at the village of some negro chief, with whom they establish an intimacy. charmed with his new friends, the power of whose weapons he acknowledges, the negro chief does not neglect the opportunity of seeking their alliance to attack a hostile neighbor. marching throughout the night, guided by their negro hosts, they bivouac within an hour's march of the unsuspecting village doomed to an attack about half an hour before break of day. the time arrives, and, quietly surrounding the village while its occupants are still sleeping, they fire the grass huts in all directions and pour volleys of musketry through the flaming thatch. panic-stricken, the unfortunate victims rush from their burning dwellings, and the men are shot down like pheasants in a battue, while the women and children, bewildered in the danger and confusion, are kidnapped and secured. the herds of cattle, still within their kraal or "zareeba," are easily disposed of, and are driven off with great rejoicing, as the prize of victory. the women and children are then fastened together, and the former secured in an instrument called a sheba, made of a forked pole, the neck of the prisoner fitting into the fork, and secured by a cross-piece lashed behind, while the wrists, brought together in advance of the body, are tied to the pole. the children are then fastened by their necks with a rope attached to the women, and thus form a living chain, in which order they are marched to the head-quarters in company with the captured herds. this is the commencement of business. should there be ivory in any of the huts not destroyed by the fire, it is appropriated. a general plunder takes place. the trader's party dig up the floors of the huts to search for iron hoes, which are generally thus concealed, as the greatest treasure of the negroes; the granaries are overturned and wantonly destroyed, and the hands are cut off the bodies of the slain, the more easily to detach the copper or iron bracelets that are usually worn. with this booty the traders return to their negro ally. they have thrashed and discomfited his enemy, which delights him; they present him with thirty or forty head of cattle, which intoxicates him with joy, and a present of a pretty little captive girl of about fourteen completes his happiness. an attack or razzia, such as described, generally leads to a quarrel with the negro ally, who in his turn is murdered and plundered by the trader--his women and children naturally becoming slaves. a good season for a party of a hundred and fifty men should produce about two hundred cantars ( , lbs.) of ivory, valued at khartoum at , pounds. the men being paid in slaves, the wages should be nil, and there should be a surplus of four or five hundred slaves for the trader's own profit--worth on an average five to six pounds each. the amiable trader returns from the white nile to khartoum; hands over to his creditor sufficient ivory to liquidate the original loan of , pounds, and, already a man of capital, he commences as an independent trader. such was the white nile trade when i prepared to start from khartoum on my expedition to the nile sources. every one in khartoum, with the exception of a few europeans, was in favor of the slave-trade, and looked with jealous eyes upon a stranger venturing within the precincts of their holy land--a land sacred to slavery and to every abomination and villainy that man can commit. the turkish officials pretended to discountenance slavery; at the same time every house in khartoum was full of slaves, and the egyptian officers had been in the habit of receiving a portion of their pay in slaves, precisely as the men employed on the white nile were paid by their employers. the egyptian authorities looked upon the exploration of the white nile by a european traveller as an infringement of the slave territory that resulted from espionage, and every obstacle was thrown in my way. to organize an enterprise so difficult that it had hitherto defeated the whole world, required a careful selection of attendants, and i looked with despair at the prospect before me. the only men procurable for escort were the miserable cut-throats of khartoum, accustomed to murder and pillage in the white nile trade, and excited not by the love of adventure, but by the desire for plunder. to start with such men appeared mere insanity. there was a still greater difficulty in connection with the white nile. for years the infernal traffic in slaves and its attendant horrors had existed like a pestilence in the negro countries, and had so exasperated the tribes that people who in former times were friendly had become hostile to all comers. an exploration to the nile sources was thus a march through an enemy's country, and required a powerful force of well-armed men. for the traders there was no great difficulty, as they took the initiative in hostilities, and had fixed camps as "points d'appui;" but for an explorer there was no alternative, but he must make a direct forward march with no communications with the rear. i had but slight hope of success without assistance from the authorities in the shape of men accustomed to discipline. i accordingly wrote to the british consul at alexandria, and requested him to apply for a few soldiers and boats to aid me in so difficult an enterprise. after some months' delay, owing to the great distance from khartoum, i received a reply inclosing a letter from ismail pacha (the present viceroy), the regent during the absence of said pacha, refusing the application. i confess to the enjoyment of a real difficulty. from the first i had observed that the egyptian authorities did not wish to encourage english explorations of the slave-producing districts, as such examinations would be detrimental to the traffic, and would lead to reports to the european governments that would ultimately prohibit the trade. it was perfectly clear that the utmost would be done to prevent my expedition from starting. this opposition gave a piquancy to the undertaking, and i resolved that nothing should thwart my plans. accordingly i set to work in earnest. i had taken the precaution to obtain an order upon the treasury at khartoum for what money i required, and as ready cash performs wonders in that country of credit and delay, i was within a few weeks ready to start. i engaged three vessels, including two large noggurs or sailing barges, and a good decked vessel with comfortable cabins, known by all nile tourists as a diahbiah. on december th, , we left khartoum. our course up the river was slow and laborious. at times the boats had to be dragged by the men through the high reeds. it is not surprising that the ancients gave up the exploration of the nile, when they came to the countless windings and difficulties of the marshes. the river is like an entangled skein of thread, and the voyage is tedious and melancholy beyond description. we did not reach gondokoro until february d. this was merely a station of the ivory traders, occupied for two months during the year, after which time it was deserted, the boats returning to khartoum and the expeditions again departing to the interior. chapter xiii. gondokoro--a mutiny quelled--arrival of speke and grant--the sources of the nile--arab duplicity--the boy-slave's story--saat adopted. having landed all my stores, and housed my corn in some granaries belong to koorshid aga, i took a receipt from him for the quantity, and gave him an order to deliver one half from my depot to speke and grant, should they arrive at gondokoro during my absence in the interior. i was under an apprehension that they might arrive by some route without my knowledge, while i should be penetrating south. there were a great number of men at gondokoro belonging to the various traders, who looked upon me with the greatest suspicion. they could not believe that simple travelling was my object, and they were shortly convinced that i was intent upon espionage in their nefarious ivory business and slave-hunting. i had heard when at khartoum that the most advanced trading station was fifteen days' march from gondokoro. i now understood that the party from that station were expected to arrive at gondokoro in a few days, and i determined to await them, as their ivory porters returning might carry my baggage and save the backs of my transport animals. after a few days' detention at gondokoro i saw unmistakable sign of discontent among my men, who had evidently been tampered with by the different traders' parties. one evening several of the most disaffected came to me with a complaint that they had not enough meat, and that they must be allowed to make a razzia upon the cattle of the natives to procure some oxen. this demand being of course refused, they retired, muttering in an insolent manner their determination of stealing cattle with or without my permission. i said nothing at the time, but early on the following morning i ordered the drum to beat and the men to fall in. i made them a short address, reminding them of the agreement made at khartoum to follow me faithfully, and of the compact that had been entered into, that they were neither to indulge in slave-hunting nor in cattle-stealing. the only effect of my address was a great outbreak of insolence on the part of the ringleader of the previous evening. this fellow, named eesur, was an arab, and his impertinence was so violent that i immediately ordered him twenty-five lashes, as an example to the others. upon the vakeel's (saati) advancing to seize him, there was a general mutiny. many of the men threw down their guns and seized sticks, and rushed to the rescue of their tall ringleader. saati was a little man, and was perfectly helpless. here was an escort! these were the men upon whom i was to depend in hours of difficulty and danger on an expedition into unknown regions! these were the fellows that i had considered to be reduced "from wolves to lambs"! i was determined not to be balked, but to insist upon the punishment of the ringleader. i accordingly went toward him with the intention of seizing him; but he, being backed by upward of forty men, had the impertinence to attack me, rushing forward with a fury that was ridiculous. to stop his blow and to knock him into the middle of the crowd was not difficult, and after a rapid repetition of the dose i disabled him, and seizing him by the throat i called to my vakeel saati for a rope to bind him, but in an instant i had a crowd of men upon me to rescue their leader. how the affair would have ended i cannot say; but as the scene lay within ten yards of my boat, my wife, who was ill with fever in the cabin, witnessed the whole affray, and seeing me surrounded, she rushed out, and in a few moments she was in the middle of the crowd, who at that time were endeavoring to rescue my prisoner. her sudden appearance had a curious effect, and calling upon several of the least mutinous to assist, she very pluckily made her way up to me. seizing the opportunity of an indecision that was for the moment evinced by the crowd, i shouted to the drummer boy to beat the drum. in an instant the drum beat, and at the top of my voice i ordered the men to "fall in." it is curious how mechanically an order is obeyed if given at the right moment, even in the midst of mutiny. two thirds of the men fell in and formed in line, while the remainder retreated with the ringleader, eesur, whom they led away, declaring that he was badly hurt. the affair ended in my insisting upon all forming in line, and upon the ringleader being brought forward. in this critical moment mrs. baker, with great tact, came forward and implored me to forgive him if he kissed my hand and begged for pardon. this compromise completely won the men, who, although a few minutes before in open mutiny, now called upon their ringleader, eesur, to apologize and all would be right. i made them rather a bitter speech, and dismissed them. from that moment i felt that my expedition was fated. this outbreak was an example of what was to follow. previously to leaving khartoum i had felt convinced that i could not succeed with such villains for escort as these khartoumers; thus i had applied to the egyptian authorities for a few troops, but had been refused. i was now in an awkward position. all my men had received five months' wages in advance, according to the custom of the white nile; thus i had no control over them. there were no egyptian authorities in gondokoro. it was a nest of robbers, and my men had just exhibited so pleasantly their attachment to me, and their fidelity! there was no european beyond gondokoro, thus i should be the only white man among this colony of wolves; and i had in perspective a difficult and uncertain path, where the only chance of success lay in the complete discipline of my escort and the perfect organization of the expedition. after the scene just enacted i felt sure that my escort would give me more cause for anxiety than the acknowledged hostility of the natives. i had been waiting at gondokoro twelve days, expecting the arrival of debono's party from the south, with whom i wished to return. suddenly, on the th of february, i heard the rattle of musketry at a great distance and a dropping fire from the south. to give an idea of the moment i must extract verbatim from my journal as written at the time. "guns firing in the distance; debono's ivory porters arriving, for whom i have waited. my men rushed madly to my boat, with the report that two white men were with them who had come from the sea! could they be speke and grant? off i ran, and soon met them in reality. hurrah for old england! they had come from the victoria n'yanza, from which the nile springs.... the mystery of ages solved! with my pleasure of meeting them is the one disappointment, that i had not met them farther on the road in my search for them; however, the satisfaction is, that my previous arrangements had been such as would have insured my finding them had they been in a fix.... my projected route would have brought me vis-a-vis with them, as they had come from the lake by the course i had proposed to take.... all my men perfectly mad with excitement. firing salutes as usual with ball cartridge, they shot one of my donkeys--a melancholy sacrifice as an offering at the completion of this geographical discovery." when i first met the two explorers they were walking along the bank of the river toward my boats. at a distance of about a hundred yards i recognized my old friend speke, and with a heart beating with joy i took off my cap and gave a welcome hurrah! as i ran toward him. for the moment he did not recognize me. ten years' growth of beard and mustache had worked a change; and as i was totally unexpected, my sudden appearance in the centre of africa appeared to him incredible. i hardly required an introduction to his companion, as we felt already acquainted, and after the transports of this happy meeting we walked together to my diahbiah, my men surrounding us with smoke and noise by keeping up an unremitting fire of musketry the whole way. we were shortly seated on deck under the awning, and such rough fare as could be hastily prepared was set before these two ragged, careworn specimens of african travel, whom i looked upon with feelings of pride as my own countrymen. as a good ship arrives in harbor, battered and torn by a long and stormy voyage, yet sound in her frame and seaworthy to the last, so both these gallant travellers arrived at gondokoro. speke appeared the more worn of the two; he was excessively lean, but in reality was in good, tough condition. he had walked the whole way from zanzibar, never having once ridden during that wearying march. grant was in honorable rags, his bare knees projecting through the remnants of trousers that were an exhibition of rough industry in tailor's work. he was looking tired and feverish, but both men had a fire in the eye that showed the spirit that had led them through. they wished to leave gondokoro as soon as possible, en route for england, but delayed their departure until the moon should be in a position for an observation for determining the longitude. my boats were fortunately engaged by me for five months, thus speke and grant could take charge of them to khartoum. at the first blush on meeting them, i had considered my expedition as terminated by having met them, and by their having accomplished the discovery of the nile source; but upon my congratulating them with all my heart upon the honor they had so nobly earned, speke and grant with characteristic candor and generosity gave me a map of their route, showing that they had been unable to complete the actual exploration of the nile, and that a most important portion still remained to be determined. it appeared that in n. lat. "degrees" ', they had crossed the nile, which they had tracked from the victoria lake; but the river, which from its exit from that lake had a northern course, turned suddenly to the west from karuma falls (the point at which they crossed it at lat. "degrees" '). they did not see the nile again until they arrived in n. lat. "degrees" ', which was then flowing from the west-south-west. the natives and the king of unyoro (kamrasi) had assured them that the nile from the victoria n'yanza, which they had crossed at karuma, flowed westward for several days' journey, and at length fell into a large lake called the luta n'zige; that this lake came from the south, and that the nile on entering the northern extremity almost immediately made its exit, and as a navigable river continued its course to the north, through the koshi and madi countries. both speke and grant attached great importance to this lake luta n'zige, and the former was much annoyed that it had been impossible for them to carry out the exploration. he foresaw that stay-at-home geographers, who, with a comfortable arm-chair to sit in, travel so easily with their fingers on a map, would ask him why he had not gone from such a place to such a place? why he had not followed the nile to the luta n'zige lake, and from the lake to gondokoro? as it happened, it was impossible for speke and grant to follow the nile from karuma: the tribes were fighting with kamrasi, and no strangers could have gone through the country. accordingly they procured their information most carefully, completed their map, and laid down the reported lake in its supposed position, showing the nile as both influent and effluent precisely as had been explained by the natives. speke expressed his conviction that the luta n'zige must be a second source of the nile, and that geographers would be dissatisfied that he had not explored it. to me this was most gratifying. i had been much disheartened at the idea that the great work was accomplished, and that nothing remained for exploration. i even said to speke, "does not one leaf of the laurel remain for me?" i now heard that the field was not only open, but that an additional interest was given to the exploration by the proof that the nile flowed out of one great lake, the victoria, but that it evidently must derive an additional supply from an unknown lake, as it entered it at the northern extremity, while the body of the lake came from the south. the fact of a great body of water such as the luta n'zige extending in a direct line from south to north, while the general system of drainage of the nile was from the same direction, showed most conclusively that the luta n'zige, if it existed in the form assumed, must have an important position in the basin of the nile. my expedition had naturally been rather costly, and being in excellent order it would have been heartbreaking to return fruitlessly. i therefore arranged immediately for my departure, and speke most kindly wrote in my journal such instructions as might be useful. on the th of february speke and grant sailed from gondokoro. our hearts were too full to say more than a short "god bless you!" they had won their victory; my work lay all before me. i watched their boat until it turned the corner, and wished them in my heart all honor for their great achievement. i trusted to sustain the name they had won for english perseverance, and i looked forward to meeting them again in dear old england, when i should have completed the work we had so warmly planned together. i now weighed all my baggage, and found that i had fifty-four cantars ( lbs. each). the beads, copper, and ammunition were the terrible onus. i therefore applied to mahommed, the vakeel of andrea debono, who had escorted speke and grant, and i begged his co-operation in the expedition. mahommed promised to accompany me, not only to his camp at faloro, but throughout the whole of my expedition, provided that i would assist him in procuring ivory, and that i would give him a handsome present. all was agreed upon, and my own men appeared in high spirits at the prospect of joining so large a party as that of mahommed, which mustered about two hundred men. at that time i really placed dependence upon the professions of mahommed and his people; they had just brought speke and grant with them, and had received from them presents of a first-class double-barrelled gun and several valuable rifles. i had promised not only to assist them in their ivory expeditions, but to give them something very handsome in addition, and the fact of my having upward of forty men as escort was also an introduction, as they would be an addition to the force, which is a great advantage in hostile countries. everything appeared to be in good trim, but i little knew the duplicity of these arab scoundrels. at the very moment that they were most friendly, they were plotting to deceive me, and to prevent the from entering the country. they knew that, should i penetrate the interior, the ivory trade of the white nile would be no longer a mystery, and that the atrocities of the slave trade would be exposed, and most likely be terminated by the intervention of european powers; accordingly they combined to prevent my advance, and to overthrow my expedition completely. all the men belonging to the various traders were determined that no englishman should penetrate into the country; accordingly they fraternized with my escort, and persuaded them that i was a christian dog that it was a disgrace for a mahometan to serve; that they would be starved in my service, as i would not allow them to steal cattle; that they would have no slaves; and that i should lead them--god knew where--to the sea, from whence speke and grant had started; that they had left zanzibar with two hundred men, and had only arrived at gondokoro with eighteen, thus the remainder must have been killed by the natives on the road; that if they followed me and arrived at zanzibar, i would find a ship waiting to take me to england, and i would leave them to die in a strange country. such were the reports circulated to prevent my men from accompanying me, and it was agreed that mahommed should fix a day for our pretended start in company, but that he should in reality start a few days before the time appointed; and that my men should mutiny, and join his party in cattle-stealing and slave-hunting. this was the substance of the plot thus carefully concocted. my men evinced a sullen demeanor, neglected all orders, and i plainly perceived a settled discontent upon their general expression. the donkeys and camels were allowed to stray, and were daily missing, and recovered with difficulty. the luggage was overrun with white ants, instead of being attended to every morning. the men absented themselves without leave, and were constantly in the camps of the different traders. i was fully prepared for some difficulty, but i trusted that when once on the march i should be able to get them under discipline. among my people were two blacks: one, "richarn," already described as having been brought up by the austrian mission at khartoum; the other, a boy of twelve years old, "saat." as these were the only really faithful members of the expedition, it is my duty to describe them. richarn was an habitual drunkard, but he had his good points: he was honest, and much attached to both master and mistress. he had been with me for some months, and was a fair sportsman, and being of an entirely different race from the arabs, he kept himself apart from them, and fraternized with the boy saat. saat was a boy that would do no evil. he was honest to a superlative degree, and a great exception to the natives of this wretched country. he was a native of "fertit," and was minding his father's goats, when a child of about six years old, at the time of his capture by the baggara arabs. he described vividly how men on camels suddenly appeared while he was in the wilderness with his flock, and how he was forcibly seized and thrust into a large gum sack and slung upon the back of a camel. upon screaming for help, the sack was opened, and an arab threatened him with a knife should he make the slightest noise. thus quieted, he was carried hundreds of miles through kordofan to dongola on the nile, at which place he was sold to slave-dealers and taken to cairo to be sold to the egyptian government as a drummer-boy. being too young he was rejected, and while in the dealer's hands he heard from another slave, of the austrian mission at cairo, that would protect him could he only reach their asylum. with extraordinary energy for a child of six years, he escaped from his master and made his way to the mission, where he was well received, and to a certain extent disciplined and taught as much of the christian religion as he could understand. in company with a branch establishment of the mission, he was subsequently located at khartoum, and from thence was sent up the white nile to a mission-station in the shillook country. the climate of tie white nile destroyed thirteen missionaries in the short space of six months, and the boy saat returned with the remnant of the party to khartoum and was readmitted into the mission. the establishment was at that time swarming with little black boys from the various white nile tribes, who repaid the kindness of the missionaries by stealing everything they could lay their hands upon. at length the utter worthlessness of the boys, their moral obtuseness, and the apparent impossibility of improving them determined the chief of the mission to purge his establishment from such imps, and they were accordingly turned out. poor little saat, the one grain of gold amid the mire, shared the same fate. it was about a week before our departure from khartoum that mrs. baker and i were at tea in the middle of the court-yard, when a miserable boy about twelve years old came uninvited to her side, and knelt down in the dust at her feet. there was something so irresistibly supplicating in the attitude of the child that the first impulse was to give him something from the table. this was declined, and he merely begged to be allowed to live with us and to be our boy. he said that he had been turned out of the mission, merely because the bari boys of the establishment were thieves, and thus he suffered for their sins. i could not believe it possible that the child had been actually turned out into the streets, and believing that the fault must lie in the boy, i told him i would inquire. in the mean time he was given in charge of the cook. it happened that on the following day i was so much occupied that i forgot to inquire at the mission, and once more the cool hour of evening arrived, when, after the intense heat of the day, we sat at table in the open court-yard. hardly were we seated when again the boy appeared, kneeling in the dust, with his head lowered at my wife's feet, and imploring to be allowed to follow us. it was in vain that i explained that we had a boy and did not require another; that the journey was long and difficult, and that he might perhaps die. the boy feared nothing, and craved simply that he might belong to us. he had no place of shelter, no food; had been stolen from his parents, and was a helpless outcast. the next morning, accompanied by mrs. baker, i went to the mission and heard that the boy had borne an excellent character, and that it must have been by mistake that he had been turned out with the others. this being conclusive, saat was immediately adopted. mrs. baker was shortly at work making him some useful clothes, and in an incredibly short time a great change was effected. as he came from the hands of the cook, after a liberal use of soap and water, and attired in trousers, blouse, and belt, the new boy appeared in a new character. from that time he considered himself as belonging absolutely to his mistress. he was taught by her to sew. richarn instructed him in the mysteries of waiting at table, and washing plates, etc., while i taught him to shoot, and gave him a light double-barrelled gun. this was his greatest pride. not only was the boy trustworthy, but he had an extraordinary amount of moral in addition to physical courage. if any complaint were made, and saat was called as a witness, far from the shyness too often evinced when the accuser is brought face to face with the accused, such was saat's proudest moment; and, no matter who the man might be, the boy would challenge him, regardless of all consequences. we were very fond of this boy; he was thoroughly good, and in that land of iniquity, thousands of miles away from all except what was evil, there was a comfort in having some one innocent and faithful in whom to trust. chapter xiv. startling disclosures--the last hope seems gone--the bari chief's advice--hoping for the best--ho for central africa! we were to start upon the following monday. mahommed had paid me a visit, assuring me of his devotion, and begging me to have my baggage in marching order, as he would send me fifty porters on monday, and we would move off in company. at the very moment that he thus professed, he was coolly deceiving me. he had arranged to start without me on saturday, while he was proposing to march together on monday. this i did not know at the time. one morning i had returned to the tent after having, as usual, inspected the transport animals, when i observed mrs. baker looking extraordinarily pale, and immediately upon my arrival she gave orders for the presence of the vakeel (headman). there was something in her manner so different from her usual calm, that i was utterly bewildered when i heard her question the vakeel, whether the men were willing to march. "perfectly ready," was the reply. "then order them to strike the tent and load the animals; we start this moment." the man appeared confused, but not more so than i. something was evidently on foot, but what i could not conjecture. the vakeel wavered, and to my astonishment i heard the accusation made against him that during the night the whole of the escort had mutinously conspired to desert me, with my arms and ammunition that were in their hands, and to fire simultaneously at me should i attempt to disarm them. at first this charge was indignantly denied, until the boy saat manfully stepped forward and declared that the conspiracy was entered into by the whole of the escort, and that both he and richarn, knowing that mutiny was intended, had listened purposely to the conversation during the night; at daybreak the boy reported the fact to his mistress. mutiny, robbery, and murder were thus deliberately determined. i immediately ordered an angarep (travelling bedstead) to be placed outside the tent under a large tree. upon this i laid five double-barrelled guns loaded with buckshot, a revolver, and a naked sabre as sharp as a razor. a sixth rifle i kept in my hands while i sat upon the angarep, with richarn and saat both with double-barrelled guns behind me. formerly i had supplied each of my men with a piece of mackintosh waterproof to be tied over the locks of their guns during the march. i now ordered the drum to be beaten, and all the men to form in line in marching order, with their locks tied up in the waterproof. i requested mrs. baker to stand behind me and point out any man who should attempt to uncover his locks when i should give the order to lay down their arms. the act of uncovering the locks would prove his intention, in which event i intended to shoot him immediately and take my chance with the rest of the conspirators. i had quite determined that these scoundrels should not rob me of my own arms and ammunition, if i could prevent it. the drum beat, and the vakeel himself went into the men's quarters and endeavored to prevail upon them to answer the call. at length fifteen assembled in line; the others were nowhere to be found. the locks of the arms were secured by mackintosh as ordered. it was thus impossible for any man to fire at me until he should have released his locks. upon assembling in line i ordered them immediately to lay down their arms. this, with insolent looks of defiance, they refused to do. "down with your guns thus moment," i shouted, "sons of dogs!" and at the sharp click of the locks, as i quickly cocked the rifle that i held in my hands, the cowardly mutineers widened their line and wavered. some retreated a few paces to the rear; others sat down and laid their guns on the ground, while the remainder slowly dispersed, and sat in twos or singly, under the various trees about eighty paces distant. taking advantage of their indecision, i immediately rose and ordered my vakeel and richarn to disarm them as they were thus scattered. foreseeing that the time had arrived for actual physical force, the cowards capitulated, agreeing to give up their arms and ammunition if i would give them their written discharge. i disarmed them immediately, and the vakeel having written a discharge for the fifteen men present, i wrote upon each paper the word "mutineer" above my signature. none of them being able to read, and this being written in english, they unconsciously carried the evidence of their own guilt, which i resolved to punish should i ever find them on my return to khartoum. thus disarmed, they immediately joined other of the traders' parties. these fifteen men were the "jalyns" of my party, the remainder being dongolowas--all arabs of the nile, north of khartoum. the dongolowas had not appeared when summoned by the drum, and my vakeel being of their nation, i impressed upon him his responsibility for the mutiny, and that he would end his days in prison at khartoum should my expedition fail. the boy saat and richarn now assured me that the men had intended to fire at me, but that they were frightened at seeing us thus prepared, but that i must not expect one man of the dongolowas to be any more faithful than the jalyns. i ordered the vakeel to hunt up the men and to bring me their guns, threatening that if they refused i would shoot any man that i found with one of my guns in his hands. there was no time for mild measures. i had only saat (a mere child) and richarn upon whom i could depend; and i resolved with them alone to accompany mahommed's people to the interior, and to trust to good fortune for a chance of proceeding. i was feverish and ill with worry and anxiety, and i was lying down upon my mat when i suddenly heard guns firing in all directions, drums beating, and the customary signs of either an arrival or departure of a trading party. presently a messenger arrived from koorshid aga, the circassian, to announce the departure of mahommed's party without me, and my vakeel appeared with a message from the same people, that if i followed on their road (my proposed route) they would fire upon me and my party, as they would allow no english spies in their country. my last hope seemed gone. no expedition had ever been more carefully planned; everything had been well arranged to insure success. my transport animals were in good condition, their saddles and pads had been made under my own inspection, my arms, ammunition, and supplies were abundant, and i was ready to march at five minutes' notice to any part of africa; but the expedition, so costly and so carefully organized, was completely ruined by the very people whom i had engaged to protect it. they had not only deserted, but they had conspired to murder. there was no law in these wild regions but brute force; human life was of no value; murder was a pastime, as the murderer could escape all punishment. mr. petherick's vakeel had just been shot dead by one of his own men, and such events were too common to create much attention. we were utterly helpless, the whole of the people against us, and openly threatening. for myself personally i had no anxiety; but the fact of mrs. baker's being with me was my greatest care. i dared not think of her position in the event of my death among such savages as those around her. these thoughts were shared by her; but she, knowing that i had resolved to succeed, never once hinted an advice for retreat. richarn was as faithful as saat, and i accordingly confided in him my resolution to leave all my baggage in charge of a friendly chief of the baris at gondokoro, and to take two fast dromedaries for him and saat, and two horses for mrs. baker and myself, and to make a push through the hostile tribe for three days, to arrive among friendly people at "moir," from which place i trusted to fortune. i arranged that the dromedaries should carry a few beads, ammunition, and the astronomical instruments. richarn said the idea was very mad; that the natives would do nothing for beads; that he had had great experience on the white nile when with a former master, and that the natives would do nothing without receiving cows as payment; that it was of no use to be good to them, as they had no respect for any virtue but "force;" that we should most likely be murdered; but that if i ordered him to go, he was ready to obey. i was delighted with richarn's rough and frank fidelity. ordering the horses to be brought, i carefully pared their feet. their hard flinty hoofs, that had never felt a shoe, were in excellent order for a gallop, if necessary. all being ready, i sent for the chief of gondokoro. meanwhile a bari boy arrived, sent by koorshid aga, to act as my interpreter. the bari chief was, as usual, smeared all over with red ochre and fat, and had the shell of a small land tortoise suspended to his elbow as an ornament. i proposed to him my plan of riding quickly through the bari tribe to moir. he replied, "impossible! if i were to beat the great nogaras (drums), and call my people together to explain who you are, they would not hurt you; but there are many petty chiefs who do not obey me, and their people would certainly attack you when crossing some swollen torrent, and what could you do with only a man and a boy?" his reply to my question concerning the value of beads corroborated richarn's statement: nothing could be purchased for anything but cattle. the traders had commenced the system of stealing herds of cattle from one tribe to barter with the next neighbor; thus the entire country was in anarchy and confusion, and beads were of no value. my plan for a dash through the country was impracticable. i therefore called my vakeel, and threatened him with the gravest punishment on my return to khartoum. i wrote to sir r. colquhoun, h.m. consul-general for egypt, which letter i sent by one of the return boats, and i explained to my vakeel that the complaint to the british authorities would end in his imprisonment, and that in case of my death through violence he would assuredly be hanged. after frightening him thoroughly, i suggested that he should induce some of the mutineers, who were dongolowas (his own tribe), many of whom were his relatives, to accompany me, in which case i would forgive them their past misconduct. in the course of the afternoon he returned with the news that he had arranged with seventeen of the men, but that they refused to march toward the south, and would accompany me to the east if i wished to explore that part of the country. their plea for refusing a southern route was the hostility of the bari tribe. they also proposed a condition, that i should "leave all my transport animals and baggage behind me." to this insane request, which completely nullified their offer to start, i only replied by vowing vengeance against the vakeel. the time was passed by the men in vociferously quarrelling among themselves during the day and in close conference with the vakeel during the night, the substance of which was reported on the following morning by the faithful saat. the boy recounted their plot. they agreed to march to the east, with the intention of deserting me at the station of a trader named chenooda, seven days' march from gondokoro, in the latooka country, whose men were, like themselves, dongolowas; they had conspired to mutiny at that place and to desert to the slave-hunting party with my arms and ammunition, and to shoot me should i attempt to disarm them. they also threatened to shoot my vakeel, who now, through fear of punishment at khartoum, exerted his influence to induce them to start. altogether it was a pleasant state of things. i was determined at all hazards to start from gondokoro for the interior. from long experience with natives of wild countries i did not despair of obtaining an influence over my men, however bad, could i once quit gondokoro and lead them among the wild and generally hostile tribes of the country. they would then be separated from the contagion of the slave-hunting parties, and would feel themselves dependent upon me for guidance. accordingly i professed to believe in their promises to accompany me to the east, although i knew of their conspiracy; and i trusted that by tact and good management i should eventually thwart all their plans, and, although forced out of my intended course, should be able to alter my route and to work round from the east to my original plan of operations south. the interpreter given by koorshid aga had absconded; this was a great loss, as i had no means of communication with the natives except by casually engaging a bari in the employment of the traders, to whom i was obliged to pay exorbitantly in copper bracelets for a few minutes' conversation. a party of koorshid's people had just arrived with ivory from the latooka country, bringing with them a number of that tribe as porters. they were to return shortly, but they not only refused to allow me to accompany them, but they declared their intention of forcibly repelling me, should i attempt to advance by their route. this was a good excuse for my men, who once more refused to proceed. by pressure upon the vakeel they again yielded, but on condition that i would take one of the mutineers named "bellaal," who wished to join them, but whose offer i had refused, as he had been a notorious ringleader in every mutiny. it was a sine qua non that he was to go; and knowing the character of the man, i felt convinced that it had been arranged that he should head the mutiny conspired to be enacted upon our arrival at chenooda's camp in the latooka country. the plan that i had arranged was to leave all the baggage not indispensable with koorshid aga at gondokoro, who would return it to khartoum. i intended to wait until koorshid's party should march, when i resolved to follow them, as i did not believe they would dare to oppose me by force, their master himself being friendly. i considered their threats as mere idle boasting to frighten me from an attempt to follow them; but there was another more serious cause of danger to be apprehended. on the route between gondokoro and latooka there was a powerful tribe among the mountains of ellyria. the chief of that tribe (legge) had formerly massacred a hundred and twenty of a trader's party. he was an ally of koorshid's people, who declared that they would raise the tribe against me, which would end in the defeat or massacre of my party. there was a difficult pass through the mountains of ellyria which it would be impossible to force; thus my small party of seventeen men would be helpless. it would be merely necessary for the traders to request the chief of ellyria to attack my party to insure its destruction, as the plunder of the baggage would be an ample reward. there was no time for deliberation. both the present and the future looked as gloomy as could be imagined; but i had always expected extraordinary difficulties, and they were, if possible, to be surmounted. it was useless to speculate upon chances. there was no hope of success in inaction, and the only resource was to drive through all obstacles without calculating the risk. the day arrived for the departure of koorshid's people. they commenced firing their usual signals, the drums beat, the turkish ensign led the way, and they marched at o'clock p.m., sending a polite message "daring" me to follow them. i immediately ordered the tent to be struck, the luggage to be arranged, the animals to be collected, and everything to be ready for the march. richarn and saat were in high spirits; even my unwilling men were obliged to work, and by p.m. we were all ready. we had neither guide nor interpreter. not one native was procurable, all being under the influence of the traders, who had determined to render our advance utterly impossible by preventing the natives from assisting us. all had been threatened, and we, perfectly helpless, commenced the desperate journey in darkness about an hour after sunset. "where shall we go?" said the men, just as the order was given to start. "who can travel without a guide? no one knows the road." the moon was up, and the mountain of belignan was distinctly visible about nine miles distant. knowing that the route lay on the east side of that mountain, i led the way, mrs. baker riding by my side, and the british flag following close behind us as a guide for the caravan of heavily laden camels and donkeys. and thus we started on our march into central africa on the th of march, . chapter xv. a start made at last--a forced march--lightening the ship--waiting for the caravan--success hangs in the balance--the greatest rascal in central africa--legge demands another bottle. the country was park-like, but much parched by the dry weather. the ground was sandy, but firm, and interspersed with numerous villages, all of which were surrounded with a strong fence of euphorbia. the country was well wooded, being free from bush or jungle, but numerous trees, all evergreens, were scattered over the landscape. no natives were to be seen but the sound of their drums and singing in chorus was heard in the far distance. whenever it is moonlight the nights are passed in singing and dancing, beating drums, blowing horns, and the population of whole villages thus congregate together. after a silent march of two hours we saw watchfires blazing in the distance, and upon nearer approach we perceived the trader's party bivouacked. their custom is to march only two or three hours on the first day of departure, to allow stragglers who may have lagged behind in gondokoro to rejoin the party before morning. we were roughly challenged by their sentries as we passed, and were instantly told "not to remain in their neighborhood." accordingly we passed on for about half a mile in advance, and bivouacked on some rising ground above a slight hollow in which we found water. the following morning was clear, and the mountain of belignan, within three or four miles, was a fine object to direct our course. i could distinctly see some enormous trees at the foot of the mountain near a village, and i hastened forward, as i hoped to procure a guide who would also act as interpreter, many of the natives in the vicinity of gondokoro having learned a little arabic from the traders. we cantered on ahead of the party, regardless of the assurance of our unwilling men that the natives were not to be trusted, and we soon arrived beneath the shade of a cluster of most superb trees. the village was within a quarter of a mile, situated at the very base of the abrupt mountain. the natives seeing us alone had no fear, and soon thronged around us. the chief understood a few words of arabic, and i offered a large payment of copper bracelets and beads for a guide. after much discussion and bargaining a bad-looking fellow offered to guide us to ellyria, but no farther. this was about twenty-eight or thirty miles distant, and it was of vital importance that we should pass through that tribe before the trader's party should raise them against us. i had great hopes of outmarching the trader's party, as they would be delayed in belignan by ivory transactions with the chief. at that time the turks were engaged in business transactions with the natives; it was therefore all important that i should start immediately, and by a forced march arrive at ellyria and get through the pass before they should communicate with the chief. i had no doubt that by paying blackmail i should be able to clear ellyria, provided i was in advance of the turks; but should they outmarch me, there would be no hope; a fight and defeat would be the climax. i accordingly gave orders for an immediate start. "load the camels, my brothers!" i exclaimed to the sullen ruffians around me; but not a man stirred except richarn and a fellow named sali, who began to show signs of improvement. seeing that the men intended to disobey, i immediately set to work myself loading the animals, requesting my men not to trouble themselves, and begging them to lie down and smoke their pipes while i did the work. a few rose from the ground ashamed and assisted to load the camels, while the others declared it an impossibility for camels to travel by the road we were about to take, as the turks had informed them that not even the donkeys could march through the thick jungles between belignan and ellyria. "all right, my brothers!" i replied; "then we'll march as far as the donkeys can go, and leave both them and the baggage on the road when they can go no farther; but i go forward." with sullen discontent the men began to strap on their belts and cartouche boxes and prepare for the start. the animals were loaded, and we moved slowly forward at . p.m. we had just started with the bari guide that i had engaged at belignan, when we were suddenly joined by two of the latookas whom i had seen when at gondokoro and to whom i had been very civil. it appeared that these follows, who were acting as porters to the turks, had been beaten, and had therefore absconded and joined me. this was extraordinary good fortune, as i now had guides the whole way to latooka, about ninety miles distant. i immediately gave them each a copper bracelet and some beads, and they very good-naturedly relieved the camels of one hundred pounds of copper rings, which they carried in two baskets on their heads. we now crossed the broad dry bed of a torrent, and the banks being steep a considerable time was occupied in assisting the loaded animals in their descent. the donkeys were easily aided, their tails being held by two men while they shuffled and slid down the sandy banks; but every camel fell, and the loads had to be carried up the opposite bank by the men, and the camels reloaded on arrival. here again the donkeys had the advantage, as without being unloaded they were assisted up the steep ascent by two men in front pulling at their ears, while others pushed behind. altogether the donkeys were far more suitable for the country, as they were more easily loaded. the facility of loading is all-important, and i now had an exemplification of its effect upon both animals and men. the latter began to abuse the camels and to curse the father of this and the mother of that because they had the trouble of unloading them for the descent into the river's bed, while the donkeys were blessed with the endearing name of "my brother," and alternately whacked with the stick. for some miles we passed through a magnificent forest of large trees. the path being remarkably good, the march looked propitious. this good fortune, however, was doomed to change. we shortly entered upon thick thorny jungles. the path was so overgrown that the camels could scarcely pass under the overhanging branches, and the leather bags of provisions piled upon their backs were soon ripped by the hooked thorns of the mimosa. the salt, rice, and coffee bags all sprang leaks, and small streams of these important stores issued from the rents which the men attempted to repair by stuffing dirty rags into the holes. these thorns were shaped like fishhooks; thus it appeared that the perishable baggage must soon become an utter wreck, as the great strength and weight of the camels bore all before them, and sometimes tore the branches from the trees, the thorns becoming fixed in the leather bags. meanwhile the donkeys walked along in comfort, being so short that they and their loads were below the branches. my wife and i rode about a quarter of a mile at the head of the party as an advance guard, to warn the caravan of any difficulty. the very nature of the country showed that it must be full of ravines, and yet i could not help hoping against hope that we might have a clear mile of road without a break. the evening had passed, and the light faded. what had been difficult and tedious during the day now became most serious; we could not see the branches of hooked thorns that over-hung the broken path. i rode in advance, my face and arms bleeding with countless scratches, while at each rip of a thorn i gave a warning shout--"thorn!" for those behind, and a cry of "hole!" for any deep rut that lay in the path. it was fortunately moonlight; but the jungle was so thick that the narrow track was barely perceptible; thus both camels and donkeys ran against the trunks of trees, smashing the luggage and breaking all that could be broken. nevertheless the case was urgent; march we must at all hazards. my heart sank whenever we cane to a deep ravine or hor; the warning cry of "halt" told those in the rear that once more the camels must be unloaded and the same fatiguing operation must be repeated. for hours we marched; the moon was sinking; the path, already dark, grew darker; the animals, overloaded even for a good road, were tired out, and the men were disheartened, thirsty, and disgusted. everything was tired out. i had been working like a slave to assist and to cheer the men; i was also fatigued. we had marched from . p.m--it was now a.m.; we had thus been eight hours and a half struggling along the path. the moon had sunk, and the complete darkness rendered a further advance impossible; therefore, on arrival at a large plateau of rock, i ordered the animals to be unloaded and both man and beast to rest. every one lay down supperless to sleep. although tired, i could not rest until i had arranged some plan for the morrow. it was evident that we could not travel over so rough a country with the animals thus overloaded; i therefore determined to leave in the jungle such articles as could be dispensed with, and to rearrange all the loads. at a.m. i awoke, and lighting a lamp i tried in vain to wake any of the men, who lay stretched upon the ground like so many corpses, sound asleep. i threw away about lbs. of salt, divided the heavy ammunition more equally among the animals, rejected a quantity of odds and ends that, although most useful, could be forsaken, and by the time the men awoke, a little before sunrise, i had completed the work. we now reloaded the animals, who showed the improvement by stepping out briskly. we marched well for three hours at a pace that bade fair to keep us well ahead of the turks, and at length we reached the dry bed of a stream, where the latooka guides assured us we should obtain water by digging. this proved correct; but the holes were dug deep in several places, and hours passed before we could secure a sufficient supply for all the men and animals. ascending from this place about a mile we came to the valley of tollogo. we passed the night in a village of the friendly natives, and were off again bright and early. on reaching the extremity of the valley we had to thread our way through the difficult pass. had the natives been really hostile they could have exterminated us in five minutes, as it was only necessary to hurl rocks from above to insure our immediate destruction. it was in this spot that a trader's party of one hundred and twenty-six men, well armed, had been massacred to a man the year previous. bad as the pass was, we had hope before us, as the latookas explained that beyond this spot there was level and unbroken ground the whole way to latooka. could we only clear ellyria before the turks, i had no fear for the present; but at the very moment when success depended upon speed we were thus baffled by the difficulties of the ground. i therefore resolved to ride on in advance of my party, leaving them to overcome the difficulties of the pass by constantly unloading the animals, while i would reconnoitre in front, as ellyria was not far distant. my wife and i accordingly rode on, accompanied only by one of the latookas as a guide. after turning a sharp angle of the mountain, leaving the cliff abruptly rising to the left from the narrow path, we descended a ravine worse than any place we had previously encountered, and were obliged to dismount in order to lead our horses up the steep rocks on the opposite side. on arrival at the summit a lovely view burst upon us. the valley of ellyria was about four hundred feet below, at about a mile distant. beautiful mountains, some two or three thousand feet high, of gray granite, walled in the narrow vale, while the landscape of forest and plain was bounded at about fifty or sixty miles' distance to the east by the blue mountains of latooka. the mountain of ellyria was the commencement of the fine range that continued indefinitely to the south. the whole country was a series of natural forts occupied by a large population. a glance at the scene before me was quite sufficient. to fight a way through a valley a quarter of a mile wide, hemmed in by high walls of rock and bristling with lances and arrows, would be impossible with my few men, encumbered by transport animals. should the camels arrive i could march into ellyria in twenty minutes, make the chief a large present, and pass on without halting until i cleared the ellyria valley. at any rate i was well before the turks, and the forced march at night, however distressing, had been successful. the great difficulty now lay in the ravine that we had just crossed; this would assuredly delay the caravan for a considerable time. tying our horses to a bush, we sat upon a rock beneath the shade of a small tree within ten paces of the path, and considered the best course to pursue. i hardly liked to risk an advance into ellyria alone before the arrival of my whole party, as we had been very rudely received by the tollogo people on the previous evening; nevertheless i thought it might be good policy to ride unattended into ellyria, and thus to court an introduction to the chief. however, our consultation ended in a determination to wait where we then were until the caravan should have accomplished the last difficulty by crossing the ravine, when we would all march into ellyria in company. for a long time we sat gazing at the valley before us in which our fate lay hidden, feeling thankful that we had thus checkmated the brutal turks. not a sound was heard of our approaching camels; the delay was most irksome. there were many difficult places that we had passed through, and each would be a source of serious delay to the animals. at length we heard them in the distance. we could distinctly hear the men's voices, and we rejoiced that they were approaching the last remaining obstacle; that one ravine passed through, and all before would be easy. i heard the rattling of the stones as they drew nearer, and looking toward the ravine i saw emerge from the dark foliage of the trees within fifty yards of us the hated red flag and crescent leading the turk's party! we were outmarched! one by one, with scowling looks, the insolent scoundrels filed by us within a few feet, without making the customary salaam, neither noticing us in any way, except by threatening to shoot the latooka, our guide, who had formerly accompanied them. their party consisted of a hundred and forty men armed with guns, while about twice as many latookas acted as porters, carrying beads, ammunition, and the general effects of the party. it appeared that we were hopelessly beaten. however, i determined to advance at all hazards on the arrival of my party, and should the turks incite the ellyria tribe to attack us, i intended, in the event of a fight, to put the first shot through the leader. to be thus beaten at the last moment was unendurable. boiling with indignation as the insolent wretches filed past, treating me with the contempt of a dog, i longed for the moment of action, no matter what were the odds against us. at length their leader, ibrahim, appeared in the rear of the party. he was riding on a donkey, being the last of the line, behind the flag that closed the march. i never saw a more atrocious countenance than that exhibited in this man. a mixed breed, between a turk sire and all arab mother, he had the good features and bad qualities of either race--the fine, sharp, high-arched nose and large nostril, the pointed and projecting chin, rather high cheek-bones and prominent brow, overhanging a pair of immense black eyes full of expression of all evil. as he approached he took no notice of us, but studiously looked straight before him with the most determined insolence. the fate of the expedition was at this critical moment retrieved by mrs. baker. she implored me to call him, to insist upon a personal explanation, and to offer him some present in the event of establishing amicable relations. i could not condescend to address the sullen scoundrel. he was in the act of passing us, and success depended upon that instant. mrs. baker herself called him. for the moment he made no reply; but upon my repeating the call in a loud key he turned his donkey toward us and dismounted. i ordered him to sit down, as his men were ahead and we were alone. the following dialogue passed between us after the usual arab mode of greeting. i said: "ibrahim, why should we be enemies in the midst of this hostile country? we believe in the same god; why should we quarrel in this land of heathens, who believe in no god? you have your work to perform; i have mine. you want ivory; i am a simple traveller; why should we clash? if i were offered the whole ivory of the country i would not accept a single tusk, nor interfere with you in any way. transact your business, and don't interfere with me; the country is wide enough for us both. i have a task before me, to reach a great lake--the head of the nile. reach it i will(inshallah). no power shall drive me back. if you are hostile i will imprison you in khartoum; if you assist me i will reward you far beyond any reward you have ever received. should i be killed in this country, you will be suspected. you know the result: the government would hang you on the bare suspicion. on the contrary, if you are friendly i will use my influence in any country that i discover, that you may procure its ivory for the sake of your master, koorshid, who was generous to captains speke and grant, and kind to me. should you be hostile, i shall hold your master responsible as your employer. should you assist me, i will befriend you both. choose your course frankly, like a man--friend or enemy?" before he had time to reply, mrs. baker addressed him much in the same strain, telling him that he did not know what englishmen were; that nothing would drive them back; that the british government watched over them wherever they might be, and that no outrage could be committed with impunity upon a british subject; that i would not deceive him in any way; that i was not a trader; and that i should be able to assist him materially by discovering new countries rich in ivory, and that he would benefit himself personally by civil conduct. he seemed confused, and wavered. i immediately promised him a new double-barrelled gun and some gold when my party should arrive, as an earnest of the future. he replied that he did not himself wish to be hostile, but that all the trading parties, without one exception, were against me, and that the men were convinced that i was a consul in disguise, who would report to the authorities at khartoum all the proceedings of the traders. he continued that he believed me, but that his men would not; that all people told lies in their country, therefore no one was credited for the truth. "however," said he, "do not associate with my people, or they may insult you; but go and take possession of that large tree (pointing to one in the valley of ellyria) for yourself and people, and i will come there and speak with you. i will now join my men, as i do not wish them to know that i have been conversing with you." he then made a salaam, mounted his donkey, and rode off. i had won him. i knew the arab character so thoroughly that i was convinced that the tree he had pointed out, followed by the words, "i will come there and speak to you," was to be the rendezvous for the receipt of the promised gun and money. i did not wait for the arrival of my men, but mounting our horses, my wife and i rode down the hillside with lighter spirits than we had enjoyed for some time past. i gave her the entire credit of the "ruse." had i been alone i should have been too proud to have sought the friendship of the sullen trader, and the moment on which success depended would leave been lost. on arrival at the grassy plain at the foot of the mountain there was a crowd of the trader's ruffians quarrelling for the shale of a few large trees that grew on the banks of the stream. we accordingly dismounted, and turning the horses to graze we took possession of a tree at some distance, under which a number of latookas were already sitting. not being very particular as to our society, we sat down and waited for the arrival of our party. the natives were entirely naked, and precisely the same as the bari. their chief, legge, was among them, and received a present from ibrahim of a long red cotton shirt, and he assumed an air of great importance. ibrahim explained to him who i was, and he immediately came to ask for the tribute he expected to receive as "blackmail" for the right of entree into his country. of all the villainous countenances that i have ever seen, that of legge excelled. ferocity, avarice, and sensuality were stamped upon his face, and i immediately requested him to sit for his portrait, and in about ten minutes i succeeded in placing within my portfolio an exact likeness of about the greatest rascal that exists in central africa. i had now the satisfaction of seeing my caravan slowly winding down the hillside in good order, having surmounted all their difficulties. upon arrival my men were perfectly astonished at seeing us so near the trader's party, and still more confounded at my sending for ibrahim to summon him to my tree, where i presented him with some english sovereigns and a double-barrelled gun. nothing escapes the inquisitiveness of these arabs; and the men of both parties quickly perceived that i had established an alliance in some unaccountable manner with ibrahim. i saw the gun lately presented to him being handed from one to the other for examination, and both my vakeel and men appeared utterly confused at the sudden change. the chief of ellyria now came to inspect my luggage, and demanded fifteen heavy copper bracelets and a large quantity of beads. the bracelets most in demand are simple rings of copper five-eighths of an inch thick and weighing about a pound, smaller ones not being so much valued. i gave him fifteen such rings, and about ten pounds of beads in varieties, the red coral porcelain (dimiriaf) being the most acceptable. legge was by no means satisfied; he said his belly was very big and it must be filled, which signified that his desire was great and must be gratified. i accordingly gave him a few extra copper rings; but suddenly he smelt spirits, one of the few bottles that i possessed of spirits of wine having broken in the medicine chest. ibrahim begged me to give him a bottle to put him in a good humor, as he enjoyed nothing so much as araki. i accordingly gave him a pint bottle of the strongest spirits of wine. to my amazement he broke off the neck, and holding his head well back he deliberately allowed the whole of the contents to trickle down his throat as innocently as though it had been simple water. he was thoroughly accustomed to it, as the traders were in the habit of bringing him presents of araki every season. he declared this to be excellent, and demanded another bottle. at that moment a violent storm of thunder and rain burst upon us with a fury well known in the tropics. the rain fell like a waterspout, and the throng immediately fled for shelter. so violent was the storm that not a man was to be seen; some sheltered themselves under the neighboring rocks, while others ran to their villages that were close by. the trader's people commenced a fusillade, firing off all their guns lest they should get wet and miss fire. chapter xvi. the greeting of the slave--traders--collapse of the mutiny--african funerals--visit from the latooka chief--bokke makes a suggestion--slaughter of the turks--success as a prophet--commoro's philosophy. although ellyria was a rich and powerful country, we were not able to procure any provisions. the natives refused to sell, and their general behavior assured me of their capability of any atrocity had they been prompted to attack us by the turks. fortunately we had a good supply of meal that had been prepared for the journey prior to our departure from gondokoro; thus we could not starve. i also had a sack of corn for the animals, a necessary precaution, as at this season there was not a blade of grass, all in the vicinity of the route having been burned. we started on the th of march, at . a.m., and entered from the valley of ellyria upon a perfectly flat country interspersed with trees. the ground was most favorable for the animals, being perfectly flat and free from ravines. we accordingly stepped along at a brisk pace, and the intense heat of the sun throughout the hottest hours of the day made the journey fatiguing for all but the camels. the latter were excellent of their class, and now far excelled the other transport animals, marching along with ease under loads of about pounds each. my caravan was at the rear of the trader's party; but the ground being good we left our people and cantered on to the advanced flag. it was curious to witness the motley assemblage in single file extending over about half a mile of ground. several of the people were mounted on donkeys, some on oxen; the most were on foot, including all the women to the number of about sixty, who were the slaves of the trader's people. these carried heavy loads, and many, in addition to the burdens, carried children strapped to their backs in leather slings. after four or five hours' march during the intense heat, many of the overloaded women showed symptoms of distress and became footsore. the grass having been recently burned had left the sharp charred stumps, which were very trying to those whose sandals were not in the best condition. the women were forced along by their brutal owners with sharp blows of the coorbatch, and one who was far advanced in pregnancy could at length go no further. upon this the savage to whom she belonged belabored her with a large stick, and not succeeding in driving her before him, he knocked her down and jumped upon her. the woman's feet were swollen and bleeding, but later in the day i again saw her hobbling along in the rear by the aid of a bamboo. after a few days' march we reached latome, a large latooka town, and upon our near approach we discovered crowds collected under two enormous trees. presently guns fired, drums beat, and we perceived the turkish flags leading a crowd of about a hundred men, who approached us with the usual salutes, every man firing off ball cartridge as fast as he could reload. my men were soon with this lot of ragamuffins, and this was the ivory or slave-trading party that they had conspired to join. they were marching toward me to honor me with a salute, which, upon close approach, ended by their holding their guns muzzle downward, and firing them almost into my feet. i at once saw through their object in giving me this reception. they had already heard from the other party exaggerated accounts of presents that their leader had received, and they were jealous at the fact of my having established confidence with a party opposed to them. the vakeel of chenooda was the man who had from the first instigated my men to revolt and to join his party, and he at that moment had two of my deserters with him that had mutinied and joined him at gondokoro. it had been agreed that the remainder of my men were to mutiny at this spot and to join him with my arms and ammunition. this was to be the stage for the outbreak. the apparent welcome was only to throw me off my guard. i was coldly polite, and begging them not to waste their powder, i went to the large tree that threw a beautiful shade, and we sat down, surrounded by a crowd of both natives and trader's people. mahommed her sent me immediately a fat ox for my people. not to be under any obligation, i immediately gave him a double-barrelled gun. ibrahim and his men occupied the shade of another enormous tree at about one hundred and fifty yards' distance. the evening arrived, and my vakeel, with his usual cunning, came to ask me whether i intended to start tomorrow. he said there was excellent shooting in this neighborhood, and that ibrahim's camp not being more than five hours' march beyond, i could at any time join him, should i think proper. many of my men were sullenly listening to my reply, which was that we should start in company with ibrahim. the men immediately turned their backs and swaggered insolently to the town, muttering something that i could not distinctly understand. i gave orders directly that no man should sleep in the town, but that all should be at their posts by the luggage under the tree that i occupied. at night several men were absent, and were with difficulty brought from the town by the vakeel. the whole of the night was passed by the rival parties quarrelling and fighting. at . on the following morning the drum of ibrahim's party beat the call, and his men with great alacrity got their porters together and prepared to march. my vakeel was not to be found; my men were lying idly in the positions where they had slept, and not a man obeyed when i gave the order to prepare to start-except richarn and sali. i saw that the moment had arrived. again i gave the order to the men to get up and load the animals. not a man would move except three or four, who slowly rose from the ground and stood resting on their guns. in the mean time richarn and sali were bringing the camels and making them kneel by the luggage. the boy saat was evidently expecting a row, and although engaged with the black women in packing, he kept his eyes constantly on me. i now observed that bellaal was standing very near me on my right, in advance of the men who had risen from the ground, and employed himself in eying me from head to foot with the most determined insolence. the fellow had his gun in his hand, and he was telegraphing by looks with those who were standing near him, while not one of the others rose from the ground, although close to me. pretending not to notice bellaal, who was now, as i had expected, once more the ringleader, for the third time i ordered the men to rise immediately and to load the camels. not a man moved; but the fellow bellaal marched up to me, and looking me straight in the face dashed the butt-end of his gun in defiance on the ground and led the mutiny. "not a man shall go with you! go where you like with ibrahim, but we won't follow you nor move a step farther. the men shall not load the camels; you may employ the 'niggers' to do it, but not us." i looked at this mutinous rascal for a moment. this was the outburst of the conspiracy, and the threats and insolence that i had been forced to pass over for the sake of the expedition all rushed before me. "lay down your gun!" i thundered, "and load the camels!" "i won't," was his reply. "then stop here!" i answered, at the same time lashing out as quick as lightning with my right hand upon his jaw. he rolled over in a heap, his gun flying some yards from his hand, and the late ringleader lay apparently insensible among the luggage, while several of his friends ran to him and played the part of the good samaritan. following up on the moment the advantage i had gained by establishing a panic, i seized my rifle and rushed into the midst of the wavering men, catching first one by the throat and then another, and dragging them to the camels, which i insisted upon their immediately loading. all except three, who attended to the ruined ringleader, mechanically obeyed. richarn and sali both shouted to them to "hurry"; and the vakeel arriving at this moment and seeing how matters stood, himself assisted, and urged the men to obey. ibrahim's party had started. the animals were soon loaded, and leaving the vakeel to take them in charge, we cantered on to overtake ibrahim, having crushed the mutiny and given such an example that, in the event of future conspiracies, my men would find it difficult to obtain a ringleader. so ended the famous conspiracy that had been reported to me by both saat and richarn before we left gondokoro; and so much for the threat of firing simultaneously at me and deserting my wife in the jungle. in those savage countries success frequently depends upon one particular moment; you may lose or win according to your action at that critical instant. we congratulated ourselves upon the termination of this affair, which i trusted would be the last of the mutinies. upon our arrival at a large town called kattaga, my vakeel reported the desertion of five of my men to mahommed her's party, with their guns and ammunition. i abused both the vakeel and the men most thoroughly, and declared, "as for the mutineers who have joined the slave-hunters, inshallah, the vultures shall pick their bones!" this charitable wish--which, i believe, i expressed with intense hatred--was never forgotten either by my own men or by the turks. believing firmly in the evil eye, their superstitious fears were immediately excited. i had noticed during the march from latome that the vicinity of every town was announced by heaps of human remains. bones and skulls formed a golgotha within a quarter of a mile of every village. some of these were in earthenware pots, generally broken; others lay strewn here and there, while a heap in the centre showed that some form had originally been observed in their disposition. this was explained by an extraordinary custom, most rigidly observed by the latookas. should a man be killed in battle the body is allowed to remain where it fell, and is devoured by the vultures and hyenas; but should he die a natural death he is buried in a shallow grave within a few feet of his own door, in the little courtyard that surrounds each dwelling. funeral dances are then kept up in memory of the dead for several weeks, at the expiration of which time the body, being sufficiently decomposed, is exhumed. the bones are cleaned and are deposited in an earthenware jar, and carried to a spot near the town which is regarded as the cemetery. there is little difficulty in describing the toilette of the native, that of the men being limited to the one covering of the head, the body being entirely nude. it is curious to observe among these wild savages the consummate vanity displayed in their head-dresses. every tribe has a distinct and unchanging fashion for dressing the hair, and so elaborate is the coiffure that hair-dressing is reduced to a science. european ladies would be startled at the fact that to perfect the coiffure of a man requires a period of from eight to ten years! however tedious the operation, the result is extraordinary. the latookas wear most exquisite helmets, all of which are formed of their own hair, and are, of course, fixtures. at first sight it appears incredible; but a minute examination shows the wonderful perseverance of years in producing what must be highly inconvenient. the thick, crisp wool is woven with fine twine, formed from the bark of a tree, until it presents a thick network of felt. as the hair grows through this matted substance it is subjected to the same process, until, in the course of years, a compact substance is formed like a strong felt, about an inch and a half thick, that has been trained into the shape of a helmet. a strong rim about two inches deep is formed by sewing it together with thread, and the front part of the helmet is protected by a piece of polished copper, while a piece of the same metal, shaped like the half of a bishop's mitre and about a foot in length, forms the crest. the framework of the helmet being at length completed, it must be perfected by an arrangement of beads, should the owner of the bead be sufficiently rich to indulge in the coveted distinction. the beads most in fashion are the red and the blue porcelain, about the size of small peas. these are sewn on the surface of the felt, and so beautifully arranged in sections of blue and red that the entire helmet appears to be formed of beads; and the handsome crest of polished copper surmounted by ostrich plumes gives a most dignified and martial appearance to this elaborate head-dress. no helmet is supposed to be complete without a row of cowrie-shells stitched around the rim so as to form a solid edge. although the men devote so much attention to their head-dress, the woman's is extremely simple. it is a curious fact that while the men are remarkably handsome the women are exceedingly plain. they are immense creatures, few being under five feet seven in height, with prodigious limbs. they wear exceedingly long tails, precisely like those of horses, but made of fine twine and rubbed with red ochre and grease. these are very convenient when they creep into their huts on hands and knees! in addition to the tails, they wear a large flap of tanned leather in front. should i ever visit that country again, i should take a great number of freemasons' aprons for the women; these would be highly prized, and would create a perfect furore. the day after my arrival in latooka i was accommodated by the chief with a hut in a neat courtyard, beautifully clean and cemented with clay, ashes, and cow-dung. not patronizing the architectural advantages of a doorway two feet high, i pitched my large tent in the yard and stowed all my baggage in the hut. all being arranged, i had a large persian carpet spread upon the ground, and received the chief of latooka in state. he was introduced by ibrahim, and i had the advantage of his interpreter. i commenced the conversation by ordering a present to be laid on the carpet of several necklaces of valuable beads, copper bars, and colored cotton handkerchiefs. it was most amusing to witness his delight at a string of fifty little "berrets" (opal beads the size of marbles) which i had brought into the country for the first time, and which were accordingly extremely valuable. no sooner had he surveyed them with undisguised delight than he requested me to give him another string of opals for his wife, or she would be in a bad humor; accordingly a present for the lady was added to the already large pile of beads that lay heaped upon the carpet before him. after surveying his treasures with pride, he heaved a deep sigh, and turning to the interpreter he said, "what a row there will be in the family when my other wives see bokke (his head wife) dressed up with this finery. tell the 'mattat' that unless he gives necklaces for each of my other wives they will fight!" accordingly i asked him the number of ladies that made him anxious. he deliberately began to count upon his fingers, and having exhausted the digits of one hand i compromised immediately, begging him not to go through the whole of his establishment, and presented him with about three pounds of various beads to be divided among them. he appeared highly delighted, and declared his intention of sending all his wives to pay mrs. baker a visit. this would be an awful visitation, as each wife would expect a present for herself, and would assuredly leave either a child or a friend for whom she would beg an addition. i therefore told him that the heat was so great that we could not bear too many in the tent, but that if *bokke*, his favorite, would appear, we should be glad to see her. accordingly he departed, and shortly we were honored by a visit. *bokke* and her daughter were announced, and a pair of prettier savages i never saw. they were very clean; their hair was worn short, like that of all the women of the country, and plastered with red ochre and fat so as to look like vermilion; their faces were slightly tattooed on the cheeks and temples, and they sat down on the many-colored carpet with great surprise, and stared at the first white man and woman they had ever seen. we gave them both a number of necklaces of red and blue beads, and i secured bokke's portrait in my sketch-book, obtaining a very correct likeness. she told us that mahommed her's men were very bad people; that they had burned and plundered one of her villages; and that one of the latookas who had been wounded in the fight by a bullet had just died, and they were to dance for him to-morrow; if we would like to we could attend. she asked many questions; among others, how many wives i had, and was astonished to hear that i was contented with one. this seemed to amuse her immensely, and she laughed heartily with her daughter at the idea. she said that my wife would be much improved if she would extract her four front teeth from the lower jaw and wear the red ointment on her hair, according to the fashion of the country; she also proposed that she should pierce her under lip, and wear the long pointed polished crystal, about the size of a drawing-pencil, that is the "thing" in the latooka country. no woman among the tribe who has any pretensions to being a "swell" would be without this highly-prized ornament; and one of my thermometers having come to an end, i broke the tube into three pieces, and they were considered as presents of the highest value, to be worn through the perforated under lip. lest the piece should slip through the hole in the lip, a kind of rivet is formed by twine bound round the inner extremity, and this, protruding into the space left by the extraction of the four front teeth of the lower jaw, entices the tongue to act upon the extremity, which gives it a wriggling motion indescribably ludicrous during conversation. it is difficult to explain real beauty. a defect in one country is a desideratum in another. scars upon the face are, in europe, a blemish; but here and in the arab countries no beauty can be perfect until the cheeks or temples have been gashed. the arabs make three gashes upon each cheek, and rub the wounds with salt and a kind of porridge (asida) to produce proud-flesh; thus every female slave captured by the slave-hunters is marked to prove her identity and to improve her charms. each tribe has its peculiar fashion as to the position and form of the cicatrix. the latookas gash the temples and cheeks of their women, but do not raise the scar above the surface, as is the custom of the arabs. polygamy is, of course, the general custom, the number of a man's wives depending entirely upon his wealth, precisely as would the number of his horses in england. there is no such thing as love in these countries; the feeling is not understood, nor does it exist in the shape in which we understand it. everything is practical, without a particle of romance. women are so far appreciated as they are valuable animals. they grind the corn, fetch the water, gather firewood, cement the floors, cook the food, and propagate the race; but they are mere servants, and as such are valuable. the price of a good-looking, strong young wife, who could carry a heavy jar of water, would be ten cows; thus a man rich in cattle would be rich in domestic bliss, as he could command a multiplicity of wives. however delightful may be a family of daughters in england, they nevertheless are costly treasures; but in latooka and throughout savage lands they are exceedingly profitable. the simple rule of proportion will suggest that if one daughter is worth ten cows, ten daughters must be worth a hundred; therefore a large family is a source of wealth: the girls bring the cows, and the boys milk them. all being perfectly naked (i mean the girls and the boys), there is no expense, and the children act as herdsmen to the flocks as in the patriarchal times. a multiplicity of wives thus increases wealth by the increase of family. i am afraid this practical state of affairs will be a strong barrier to missionary enterprise. a savage holds to his cows and his women, but especially to his cows. in a razzia fight he will seldom stand for the sake of his wives, but when he does fight it is to save his cattle. one day, soon after bokke's visit, i heard that there had been some disaster, and that the whole of mahommed her's party had been massacred. on the following morning i sent ten of my men with a party of ibrahim's to latome to make inquiries. they returned on the following afternoon, bringing with them two wounded men. it appeared the mahommed her had ordered his party of armed men, in addition to natives, to make a razzia upon a certain village among the mountains for slaves and cattle. they had succeeded in burning a village and in capturing a great number of slaves. having descended the pass, a native gave them the route that would lead to the capture of a large herd of cattle that they had not yet discovered. they once more ascended the mountain by a different path, and arriving at the kraal they commenced driving off the vast herd of cattle. the latookas, who had not fought while their wives and children were being carried into slavery, now fronted bravely against the muskets to defend their herds, and charging the turks they drove them down the pass. it was in vain that they fought; every bullet aimed at a latooka struck a rock, behind which the enemy was hidden. rocks, stones, and lances were hurled at them from all sides and from above. they were forced to retreat. the retreat ended in a panic and precipitate flight. hemmed in on all sides, amid a shower of lances and stones thrown from the mountain above, the turks fled pell-mell down the rocky and precipitous ravines. mistaking their route, they came to a precipice from which there was no retreat. the screaming and yelling savages closed round them. fighting was useless; the natives, under cover of the numerous detached rocks, offered no mark for an aim, while the crowd of armed savages thrust them forward with wild yells to the very verge of the great precipice about five hundred feet below. down they fell, hurled to utter destruction by the mass of latookas pressing onward! a few fought to the last, but one and all were at length forced, by sheer pressure, over the edge of the cliff, and met a just reward for their atrocities. my men looked utterly cast down, and a feeling of horror pervaded the entire party. no quarter had been given by the latookas, and upward of two hundred natives who had joined the slave-hunters in the attack had also perished with their allies. mahommed her had not himself accompanied his people, both he and bellaal, my late ringleader, having remained in camp, the latter having, fortunately for him, been disabled, and placed hors de combat by the example i had made during the mutiny. my men were almost green with awe when i asked them solemnly, "where are the men who deserted from me?" without answering a word they brought two of my guns and laid them at my feet. they were covered with clotted blood mixed with sand, which had hardened like cement over the locks and various portions of the barrels. my guns were all marked. as i looked at the numbers upon the stocks, i repeated aloud the names of the owners. "are they all dead?" i asked. "all dead," the men replied. "food for the vultures?" i asked. "none of the bodies can be recovered," faltered my vakeel. "the two guns were brought from the spot by some natives who escaped, and who saw the men fall. they are all killed." "better for them had they remained with me and done their duty. the hand of god is heavy," i replied. my men slunk away abashed, leaving the gory witnesses of defeat and death upon the ground. i called saat and ordered him to give the two guns to richarn to clean. not only my own men but the whole of ibrahim's party were of opinion that i had some mysterious connection with the disaster that had befallen my mutineers. all remembered the bitterness of my prophecy, "the vultures will pick their bones", and this terrible mishap having occurred so immediately afterward took a strong hold upon their superstitious minds. as i passed through the camp the men would quietly exclaim, "wah illahi hawaga!" (my god, master!) to which i simply replied, "robine fe!" (there is a god.) from that moment i observed an extraordinary change in the manner of both my people and those of ibrahim, all of whom now paid us the greatest respect. one day i sent for commoro, the latooka chief, and through my two young interpreters i had a long conversation with him on the customs of his country. i wished if possible to fathom the origin of the extraordinary custom of exhuming the body after burial, as i imagined that in this act some idea might be traced to a belief in the resurrection. commoro was, like all his people, extremely tall. upon entering my tent he took his seat upon the ground, the latookas not using stools like the other white nile tribes. i commenced the conversation by complimenting him on the perfection of his wives and daughters in a funeral dance which had lately been held, and on his own agility in the performance, and inquired for whom the ceremony had been performed. he replied that it was for a man who had been recently killed, but no one of great importance, the same ceremony being observed for every person without distinction. i asked him why those slain in battle were allowed to remain unburied. he said it had always been the custom, but that he could not explain it. "but," i replied, "why should you disturb the bones of those whom you have already buried, and expose them on the outskirts of the town?" "it was the custom of our forefathers," he answered, "therefore we continue to observe it." "have you no belief in a future existence after death? is not some idea expressed in the act of exhuming the bones after the flesh is decayed?" commoro (loq.).--"existence after death! how can that be? can a dead man get out of his grave, unless we dig him out?" "do you think man is like a beast, that dies and is ended?" commoro.--"certainly. an ox is stronger than a man, but he dies, and his bones last longer; they are bigger. a man's bones break quickly; he is weak." "is not a man superior in sense to an ox? has he not a mind to direct his actions?" commoro--"some men are not so clever as an ox. men must sow corn to obtain food, but the ox and wild animals can procure it without sowing." "do you not know that there is a spirit within you different from flesh? do you not dream and wander in thought to distant places in your sleep? nevertheless your body rests in one spot. how do you account for this?" commoro (laughing)--"well, how do you account for it? it is a thing i cannot understand; it occurs to me every night." "the mind is independent of the body. the actual body can be fettered, but the mind is uncontrollable. the body will die and will become dust or be eaten by vultures; but the spirit will exist forever." commoro--"where will the spirit live?" "where does fire live? cannot you produce a fire* (* the natives always produce fire by rubbing two sticks together.) by rubbing two sticks together? yet you see not the fire in the wood. has not that fire, that lies harmless and unseen in the sticks, the power to consume the whole country? which is the stronger, the small stick that first produces the fire, or the fire itself? so is the spirit the element within the body, as the element of fire exists in the stick, the element being superior to the substance." commoro--"ha! can you explain what we frequently see at night when lost in the wilderness? i have myself been lost, and wandering in the dark i have seen a distant fire; upon approaching the fire has vanished, and i have been unable to trace the cause, nor could i find the spot." "have you no idea of the existence of spirits superior to either man or beast? have you no fear of evil except from bodily causes?" commoro.--"i am afraid of elephants and other animals when in the jungle at night; but of nothing else." "then you believe in nothing--neither in a good nor evil spirit! and you believe that when you die it will be the end of body and spirit; that you are like other animals; and that there is no distinction between man and beast; both disappear, and end at death?" commoro.--"of course they do." "do you see no difference in good and bad actions?" commoro.--"yes, there are good and bad in men and beasts." "do you think that a good man and a bad must share the same fate, and alike die, and end?" commoro.--"yes; what else can they do? how can they help dying? good and bad all die." "their bodies perish, but their spirits remain; the good in happiness, the bad in misery. if you leave no belief in a future state, why should a man be good? why should he not be bad, if he can prosper by wickedness?" commoro.--"most people are bad; if they are strong they take from the weak. the good people are all weak; they are good because they are not strong enough to be bad." some corn had been taken out of a sack for the horses, and a few grains lying scattered on the ground, i tried the beautiful metaphor of st. paul as an example of a future state. making a small hole with my finger in the ground, i placed a grain within it: "that," i said, "represents you when you die." covering it with earth, i continued, "that grain will decay, but from it will rise the plant that will produce a reappearance of the original form." commoro.--"exactly so; that i understand. but the original grain does not rise again; it rots like the dead man, and is ended. the fruit produced is not the same grain that we buried, but the production of that grain. so it is with man. i die, and decay, and am ended; but my children grow up like the fruit of the grain. some men have no children, and some grains perish without fruit; then all are ended." i was obliged to change the subject of conversation. in this wild naked savage there was not even a superstition upon which to found a religious feeling; there was a belief in matter, and to his understanding everything was material. it was extraordinary to find so much clearness of perception combined with such complete obtuseness to anything ideal. chapter xvii disease in the camp--forward under difficulties--our cup of misery overflows--a rain-maker in a dilemma--fever again--ibrahim's quandary--firing the prairie. sickness now rapidly spread among my animals. five donkeys died within a few days, and the rest looked poor. two of my camels died suddenly, having eaten the poison-bush. within a few days of this disaster my good old hunter and companion of all my former sports in the base country, tetel, died. these terrible blows to my expedition were most satisfactory to the latookas, who ate the donkeys and other animals the moment they died. it was a race between the natives and the vultures as to who should be first to profit by my losses. not only were the animals sick, but my wife was laid up with a violent attack of gastric fever, and i was also suffering from daily attacks of ague. the small-pox broke out among the turks. several people died, and, to make matters worse, they insisted upon inoculating themselves and all their slaves; thus the whole camp was reeking with this horrible disease. fortunately my camp was separate and to windward. i strictly forbade my men to inoculate themselves, and no case of the disease occurred among my people; but it spread throughout the country. small-pox is a scourge among the tribes of central africa, and it occasionally sweeps through the country and decimates the population. i had a long examination of wani, the guide and interpreter, respecting the country of magungo. loggo, the bari interpreter, always described magungo as being on a large river, and i concluded that it must be the asua; but upon cross-examination i found he used the word "bahr" (in arabic signifying river or sea) instead of "birbe" (lake). this important error being discovered gave a new feature to the geography of this part. according to his description, magungo was situated on a lake so large that no one knew its limits. its breadth was such that, if one journeyed two days east and the same distance west, there was no land visible on either quarter, while to the south its direction was utterly unknown. large vessels arrived at magungo from distant arid unknown parts, bringing cowrie-shells and beads in exchange for ivory. upon these vessels white men had been seen. all the cowrie-shells used in latooka and the neighboring countries were supplied by these vessels, but none had arrived for the last two years. i concluded the lake was no other than the n'yanza, which, if the position of mangungo were correct, extended much farther north than speke had supposed. i determined to take the first opportunity to push for magungo. the white men spoken of by wani probably referred to arabs, who, being simply brown, were called white men by the blacks. i was called a very white man as a distinction; but i have frequently been obliged to take off my shirt to exhibit the difference of color between myself and men, as my face had become brown. the turks had set june d as the time for their departure from latooka. on the day preceding my wife was dangerously ill with bilious fever, and was unable to stand, and i endeavored to persuade the trader's party to postpone their departure for a few days. they would not hear of such a proposal; they had so irritated the latookas that they feared an attack, and their captain or vakeel, ibrahim, had ordered them immediately to vacate the country. this was a most awkward position for me. the traders had incurred the hostility of the country, and i should bear the brunt of it should i remain behind alone. without their presence i should be unable to procure porters, as the natives would not accompany my feeble party, especially as i could offer them no other payment than beads or copper. the rain had commenced within the last few days at latooka, and on the route toward obbo we should encounter continual storms. we were to march by a long and circuitous route to avoid the rocky passes that would be dangerous in the present spirit of the country, especially as the traders possessed large herds that must accompany the party. they allowed five days' march for the distance to obbo by the intended route. this was not an alluring programme for the week's entertainment, with my wife almost in a dying state! however, i set to work and fitted an angarep with arched hoops from end to end, so as to form a frame like the cap of a wagon. this i covered with two waterproof abyssinian tanned hides securely strapped, and lashing two long poles parallel to the sides of the angarep, i formed an excellent palanquin. in this she was assisted, and we started on june d. on our arrival at obbo both my wife and i were excessively ill with bilious fever, and neither could assist the other. the old chief of obbo, katchiba, hearing that we were dying, came to charm us with some magic spell. he found us lying helpless, and immediately procured a small branch of a tree, and filling his month with water he squirted it over the leaves and about the floor of the hut. he then waved the branch around my wife's head, also around mine, and completed the ceremony by sticking it in the thatch above the doorway. he told us we should now get better, and, perfectly satisfied, took his leave. the hut was swarming with rats and white ants, the former racing over our bodies during the night and burrowing through the floor, filling our only room with mounds like molehills. as fast as we stopped the holes, others were made with determined perseverance. having a supply of arsenic, i gave them an entertainment, the effect being disagreeable to all parties, as the rats died in their holes and created a horrible effluvium, while fresh hosts took the place of the departed. now and then a snake would be seen gliding within the thatch, having taken shelter front the pouring rain. the small-pox was raging throughout the country, and the natives were dying like flies in winter. the country was extremely unhealthy, owing to the constant rain and the rank herbage, which prevented a free circulation of air, and the extreme damp induced fevers. the temperature was degrees fahr. at night and degrees during the day; dense clouds obscured the sun for many days, and the air was reeking with moisture. in the evening it was always necessary to keep a blazing fire within the hut, as the floor and walls were wet and chilly. the wet herbage disagreed with my baggage animals. innumerable flies appeared, including the tsetse, and in a few weeks the donkeys had no hair left, either on their ears or legs. they drooped and died one by one. it was in vain that i erected sheds and lighted fires; nothing would protect them from the flies. the moment the fires were lit the animals would rush wildly into the smoke, from which nothing would drive them; and in the clouds of imaginary protection they would remain all day, refusing food. on the th of july my last horse, mouse, died. he had a very long tail, for which i obtained a cow in exchange. nothing was prized so highly as horses' tails, the hairs being used for stringing beads and also for making tufts as ornaments, to be suspended from the elbows. it was highly fashionable in obbo for the men to wear such tufts formed of the bushy ends of cows' tails. it was also "the thing" to wear six or eight polished rings of iron, fastened so tightly round the throat as almost to choke the wearer, and somewhat resembling dog-collars. for months we dragged on a miserable existence at obbo, wrecked by fever. the quinine was exhausted; thus the disease worried me almost to death, returning at intervals of a few days. fortunately my wife did not suffer so much as i did. i had nevertheless prepared for the journey south, and as travelling on foot would have been impossible in our weak state, i had purchased and trained three oxen in lieu of horses. they were named "beef," "steaks," and "suet." "beef" was a magnificent animal, but having been bitten by the flies he so lost his condition that i changed his name to "bones." we were ready to start, and the natives reported that early in january the asua would be fordable. i had arranged with ibrahim that he should supply me with porters for payment in copper bracelets, and that he should accompany me with one hundred men to kamrasi's country (unyoro) on condition that he would restrain his people from all misdemeanors, and that they should be entirely subservient to me. it was the month of december, and during the nine, months that i had been in correspondence with his party i had succeeded in acquiring an extraordinary influence. although my camp was nearly three quarters of a mile from their zareeba, i had been besieged daily for many months for everything that was wanted. my camp was a kind of general store that appeared to be inexhaustible. i gave all that i had with a good grace, and thereby gained the good-will of the robbers, especially as my large medicine chest contained a supply of drugs that rendered me in their eyes a physician of the first importance. i had been very successful with my patients, and the medicines that i generally used being those which produced a very decided effect, both the turks and natives considered them with perfect faith. there was seldom any difficulty in prognosticating the effect of tartar emetic, and this became the favorite drug that was almost daily applied for, a dose of three grains enchanting the patient, who always advertised my fame by saying "he told me i should be sick, and, by allah! there was no mistake about it." accordingly there was a great run upon the tartar emetic. many people in debono's camp had died, including several of my deserters who had joined them. news was brought that in three separate fights with the natives my deserters had been killed on every occasion, and my men and those of ibrahim unhesitatingly declared it was the "hand of god." none of ibrahim's men had died since we left latooka. one man, who had been badly wounded by a lance thrust through his abdomen, i had successfully treated; and the trading party, who would at one time gladly have exterminated me, now exclaimed, "what shall we do when the sowar (traveller) leaves the country?" mrs. baker had been exceedingly kind to the women and children of both the traders and natives, and together we had created so favorable an impression that we were always referred to as umpires in every dispute. my own men, although indolent, were so completely disciplined that they would not have dared to disobey an order, and they looked back upon their former mutinous conduct with surprise at their own audacity, and declared that they feared to return to khartoum, as they were sure that i would not forgive them. one day, hearing a great noise of voices and blowing of horns in the direction of katchiba's residence, i sent to inquire the cause. the old chief himself appeared very angry and excited. he said that his people were very bad, that they had been making a great noise and finding fault with him because he had not supplied them with a few showers, as they wanted to sow their crop of tullaboon. there had been no rain for about a fortnight. "well," i replied, "you are the rain-maker; why don't you give your people rain?" "give my people rain!" said katchiba. "i give them rain if they don't give me goats? you don't know my people. if i am fool enough to give them rain before they give me the goats, they would let me starve! no, no! let them wait. if they don't bring me supplies of corn, goats, fowls, yams, merissa, and all that i require, not one drop of rain shall ever fall again in obbo! impudent brutes are my people! do you know, they have positively threatened to kill me unless i bring the rain? "they shan't have a drop. i will wither the crops and bring a plague upon their flocks. i'll teach these rascals to insult me!" with all this bluster, i saw that old katchiba was in a great dilemma, and that he would give anything for a shower, but that lie did not know how to get out of the scrape. it was a common freak of the tribes to sacrifice the rain-maker should he be unsuccessful. he suddenly altered his tone, and asked, "have you any rain in your country?" i replied that we had, every now and then. "how do you bring it? are you a rain-maker?" i told him that no one believed in rain-makers in our country, but that we understood how to bottle lightning (meaning electricity). "i don't keep mine in bottles, but i have a houseful of thunder and lightning," he most coolly replied; "but if you can bottle lightning, you must understand rain-making. what do you think of the weather to-day?" i immediately saw the drift of the cunning old katchiba; he wanted professional advice. i replied that he must know all about it, as he was a regular rain-maker. "of course i do," he answered, "but i want to know what you think of it." "well," i said, "i don't think we shall have any steady rain, but i think we may have a heavy shower in about four days." i said this as i had observed fleecy clouds gathering daily in the afternoon. "just my opinion!" said katchiba, delighted. "in four or perhaps in five days i intend to give then one shower--just one shower. yes, i'll just step down to them now and tell the rascals that if they will bring me some goats by this evening and some corn to-morrow morning i will give them in four or five days just one shower." to give effect to his declaration he gave several toots upon his magic whistle. "do you use whistles in your country?" inquired katchiba. i only replied by giving so shrill and deafening a whistle on my fingers that katchiba stopped his ears, and relapsing into a smile of admiration he took a glance at the sky from the doorway to see if any sudden effect had been produced. "whistle again," he said, and once more i performed like the whistle of a locomotive. "that will do; we shall have it," said the cunning old rain-maker, and proud of having so knowingly obtained "counsel's opinion" on his case, he toddled off to his impatient subjects. in a few days a sudden storm of rain and violent thunder added to katchiba's renown, and after the shower horns were blowing and nogaras were beating in honor of their chief. entre nous, my whistle was considered infallible. a bad attack of fever laid me up until the st of december. on the first day of january, , i was hardly able to stand, and was nearly worn out at the very time that i required my strength, as we were to start south in a few days. although my quinine had been long since exhausted, i had reserved ten grains to enable me to start in case the fever should attack me at the time of departure. i now swallowed my last dose. it was difficult to procure porters; therefore i left all my effects at my camp in charge of two of my men, and i determined to travel light, without the tent, and to take little beyond ammunition and cooking utensils. ibrahim left forty-five men in his zareeba, and on the th of january we started. in four days' march we reached the asua river, and on january th arrived at shooa, in latitude degrees '. two days after our arrival at shooa all of our obbo porters absconded. they had heard that we were bound for kamrasi's country, and having received exaggerated accounts of his power from the shooa people, they had determined upon retreat; thus we were at once unable to proceed, unless we could procure porters from shooa. this was exceedingly difficult, as kamrasi was well known here, and was not loved. his country was known as "quanda," and i at once recognized the corruption of speke's "uganda." the slave woman "bacheeta," who had formerly given me in obbo so much information concerning kamrasi's country, was to be our interpreter; but we also had the luck to discover a lad who had formerly been employed by mahommed in faloro, who also spoke the language of quanda, and had learned a little arabic. i now discovered that the slave woman bacheeta had formerly been in the service of a chief named sali, who had been killed by kamrasi. sali was a friend of rionga (kamrasi's greatest enemy), and i had been warned by speke not to set foot upon rionga's territory, or all travelling in unyoro would be cut off. i plainly saw that bacheeta was in favor of rionga, as a friend of the murdered sali, by whom she had had two children, and that she would most likely tamper with the guide, and that we should be led to rionga instead of to kamrasi. there were "wheels within wheels." it was now reported that in the last year, immediately after the departure of speke and grant from gondokoro, debono's people had marched directly to rionga, allied themselves to him, crossed the nile with his people, and had attacked kamrasi's country, killing about three hundred of his men, and capturing many slaves. i now understood why they had deceived me at gondokoro: they had obtained information of the country from speke's people, and had made use of it by immediately attacking kamrasi in conjunction with rionga. this would be a pleasant introduction for me on entering unyoro, as almost immediately after the departure of speke and grant, kamrasi had been invaded by the very people into whose hands his messengers had delivered them, when they were guided from unyoro to the turks' station at faloro. he would naturally have considered that the turks had been sent by speke to attack him; thus the road appeared closed to all exploration, through the atrocities of debono's people. many of ibrahim's men, at hearing this intelligence, refused to proceed to unyoro. fortunately for me, ibrahim had been extremely unlucky in procuring ivory. the year had almost passed away, and he had a mere nothing with which to return to gondokoro. i impressed upon him how enraged koorshid would be should he return with such a trifle. already his own men declared that he was neglecting razzias because he was to receive a present from me if we reached unyoro. this they would report to his master (koorshid), and it would be believed should he fail in securing ivory. i guaranteed him cantars ( , pounds) if he would push on at all hazards with me to kamrasi and secure me porters from shooa. ibrahim behaved remarkably well. for some time past i had acquired a great influence over him, and he depended so thoroughly upon my opinion that he declared himself ready to do all that i suggested. accordingly i desired him to call his men together, and to leave in shooa all those who were disinclined to follow us. at once i arranged for a start, lest some fresh idea should enter the ever-suspicious brains of our followers and mar the expedition. it was difficult to procure porters, and i abandoned all that was not indispensable--our last few pounds of rice and coffee, and even the great sponging-bath, that emblem of civilization that had been clung to even when the tent had been left behind. on the th of january, , we left shooa. the pure air of that country had invigorated us, and i was so improved in strength that i enjoyed the excitement of the launch into unknown lands. the turks knew nothing of the route south, and i accordingly took the lead of the entire party. i had come to a distinct understanding with ibrahim that kamrasi's country should belong to me; not an act of felony would be permitted; all were to be under my government, and i would insure him at least cantars of tusks. eight miles of agreeable march through the usual park-like country brought us to the village of fatiko, situated upon a splendid plateau of rock upon elevated ground with beautiful granite cliffs, bordering a level table-land of fine grass that would have formed a race-course. the high rocks were covered with natives, perched upon the outline like a flock of ravens. we halted to rest under some fine trees growing among large isolated blocks of granite and gneiss. in a short time the natives assembled around us. they were wonderfully friendly, and insisted upon a personal introduction to both myself and mrs. baker. we were thus compelled to hold a levee--not the passive and cold ceremony of europe, but a most active undertaking, as each native that was introduced performed the salaam of his country by seizing both my hands and raising my arms three times to their full stretch above my head. after about one hundred fatikos had been thus gratified by our submission to this infliction, and our arms had been subjected to at least three hundred stretches each, i gave the order to saddle the oxen immediately, and we escaped a further proof of fatiko affection that was already preparing, as masses of natives were streaming down the rocks hurrying to be introduced. notwithstanding the fatigue of the ceremony, i took a great fancy to these poor people. they had prepared a quantity of merissa and a sheep for our lunch, which they begged us to remain and enjoy before we started; but the pumping action of half a village not yet gratified by a presentation was too much, and mounting our oxen with aching shoulders we bade adieu to fatiko. on the following day our guide lost the road; a large herd of elephants had obscured it by trampling hundreds of paths in all directions. the wind was strong from the north, and i proposed to clear the country to the south by firing the prairies. there were numerous deep swamps in the bottoms between the undulations, and upon arrival at one of these green dells we fired the grass on the opposite side. in a few minutes it roared before us, and we enjoyed the grand sight of the boundless prairies blazing like infernal regions, and rapidly clearing a path south. flocks of buzzards and the beautiful varieties of fly-catchers thronged to the dense smoke to prey upon the innumerable insects that endeavored to escape from the approaching fire. chapter xviii greeting from kamrasi's people--suffering for the sins of others--alone among savages--the free-masonry of unyoro--pottery and civilization. after an exceedingly fatiguing march we reached the somerset river, or victoria white nile, january d. i went to the river to see if the other side was inhabited. there were two villages on an island, and the natives came across in a canoe, bringing the brother of rionga. the guide, as i had feared during the journey, had deceived us, and following the secret instructions of the slave woman bacheeta, had brought us directly to rionga's country. the natives at first had taken us for mahomet wat-el-mek's people; but, finding their mistake, they would give us no information. we could obtain no supplies from them; but they returned to the island and shouted out that we might go to kamrasi if we wished, but we should receive no assistance from them. after a most enjoyable march through the exciting scenery of the glorious river crashing over innumerable falls, and in many places ornamented with rocky islands, upon which were villages and plantain groves, we at length approached the karuma falls, close to the village of atada above the ferry. the heights were crowded with natives, and a canoe was sent across to within parleying distance of our side, as the roar of the rapids prevented our voices from being heard except at a short distance. bacheeta now explained that "speke's brother had arrived from his country to pay kamrasi a visit, and had brought him valuable presents." "why has he brought so many men with him?" inquired the people from the canoe. "there are so many presents for the m'kamma (king) that he has many men to carry them," shouted bacheeta. "let us look at him!" cried the headman in the boat. having prepared for the introduction by changing my clothes in a grove of plantains for my dressing-room, and altering my costume to a tweed suit, something similar to that worn by speke, i climbed up a high and almost perpendicular rock that formed a natural pinnacle on the face of the cliff, and waving my cap to the crowd on the opposite side, i looked almost as imposing as nelson in trafalgar square. i instructed bacheeta, who climbed up the giddy height after me, to shout to the people that an english lady, my wife, had also arrived, and that we wished immediately to be presented to the king and his family, as we had come to thank him for his kind treatment of speke and grant, who had arrived safe in their own country. upon this being explained and repeated several times the canoe approached the shore. i ordered all our people to retire and to conceal themselves among the plantains, that the natives might not be startled by so imposing a force, while mrs. baker and i advanced alone to meet kamrasi's people, who were men of some importance. upon landing through the high reeds, they immediately recognized the similarity of my beard and general complexion to those of speke, and their welcome was at once displayed by the most extravagant dancing and gesticulating with lances and shields, as though intending to attack, rushing at me with the points of their lances thrust close to my face, and shouting and singing in great excitement. i made each of them a present of a bead necklace, and explained to them my wish that there should be no delay in my presentation to kamrasi, as speke had complained that he had been kept waiting fifteen days before the king had condescended to see him; that if this occurred no englishman would ever visit him, as such a reception would be considered an insult. the headman replied that he felt sure i was not an impostor; but that very shortly after the departure of speke and grant in the previous year a number of people had arrived in their name, introducing themselves as their greatest friends. they had been ferried across the river, and well received by kamrasi's orders, and had been presented with ivory, slaves, and leopard-skins, as tokens of friendship; but they had departed, and suddenly returned with rionga's people, and attacked the village in which they had been so well received; and upon the country being assembled to resist them, about three hundred of kamrasi's men had been killed in the fight. the king had therefore given orders that upon pain of death no stranger should cross the river. he continued, that when he saw our people marching along the bank of the river they imagined us to be the same party that had attacked them formerly, and they were prepared to resist us, and had sent on a messenger to kamrasi, who was three days' march from karuma, at his capital, m'rooli; until they received a reply it would be impossible to allow us to enter the country. he promised to despatch another messenger immediately to inform the king who we were, but that we must certainly wait until his return. i explained that we had nothing to eat, and that it would be very inconvenient to remain in such a spot; that i considered the suspicion displayed was exceedingly unfair, as they must see that my wife and i were white people like speke and grant, whereas those who had deceived them were of a totally different race, all being either black or brown. i told him that it did not much matter; that i had very beautiful presents intended for kamrasi, but that another great king would be only too glad to accept them, without throwing obstacles in my way. i should accordingly return with my presents. at the same time i ordered a handsome persian carpet, about fifteen feet square, to be displayed as one of the presents intended for the king. the gorgeous colors, as the carpet was unfolded, produced a general exclamation. before the effect of astonishment wore off i had a basket unpacked, and displayed upon a cloth a heap of superb necklaces, that we had prepared while at obbo, of the choicest beads, many as large as marbles, and glittering with every color of the rainbow. the garden of jewels of aladdin's wonderful lamp could not have produced more enticing fruit. beads were extremely rare in kamrasi's land; the few that existed had arrived from zanzibar, and all that i exhibited were entirely new varieties. i explained that i had many other presents, but that it was not necessary to unpack them, as we were about to return with them to visit another king, who lived some days' journey distant. "don't go; don't go away," said the headman and his companions. "kamrasi will--" here an unmistakable pantomimic action explained their meaning better than words; throwing their heads well back, they sawed across their throats with their forefingers, making horrible grimaces, indicative of the cutting of throats. i could not resist laughing at the terror that my threat of returning with the presents had created. they explained that kamrasi would not only kill them, but would destroy the entire village of atada should we return without visiting him; but that he would perhaps punish them in precisely the same manner should they ferry us across without special orders. "please yourselves," i replied; "if my party is not ferried across by the time the sun reaches that spot on the heavens (pointing to the position it would occupy at about p.m.) i shall return." in a state of great excitement they promised to hold a conference on the other side, and to see what arrangements could be made. they returned to atada, leaving the whole party, including ibrahim, exceedingly disconcerted, having nothing to eat, an impassable river before us, and five days' march of uninhabited wilderness in our rear. the whole day passed in shouting and gesticulating our peaceful intentions to the crowd assembled on the heights on the opposite side of the river; but the boat did not return until long after the time appointed. even then the natives would only approach sufficiently near to be heard, but nothing would induce them to land. they explained that there was a division of opinion among the people on the other side: some were in favor of receiving us, but the greater number were of opinion that we intended hostilities; therefore we must wait until orders could be sent from the king. to assure the people of our peaceful intentions, i begged them to take mrs. baker and myself alone, and to leave the armed party on this side of the river until a reply should be received from kamrasi. at this suggestion the boat immediately returned to the other side. the day passed away, and as the sun set we perceived the canoe again paddling across the river. this time it approached directly, and the same people landed that had received the necklaces in the morning. they said that they had held a conference with the headman, and that they had agreed to receive my wife and myself, but no other person. i replied that my servants must accompany us, as we were quite as great personages as kamrasi, and could not possibly travel without attendants. to this they demurred; therefore i dropped the subject, and proposed to load the canoe with all the presents intended for kamrasi. there was no objection to this, and i ordered richarn, saat, and ibrahim to get into the canoe to stow away the luggage as it should be handed to them, but on no account to leave the boat. i had already prepared everything in readiness, and a bundle of rifles tied up in a large blanket and rounds of ball cartridge were unconsciously received on board as presents. i had instructed ibrahim to accompany us as my servant, as he was better than most of the men in the event of a row; and i had given orders that, in case of a preconcerted signal being given, the whole force should swim the river, supporting themselves and guns upon bundles of papyrus rush. the men thought us perfectly mad, and declared that we should be murdered immediately when on the other side; however, they prepared for crossing the river in case of treachery. at the last moment, when the boat was about to leave the shore, two of the best men jumped in with their guns. however, the natives positively refused to start; therefore, to avoid suspicion, i ordered them to retire, but i left word that on the morrow i would send the canoe across with supplies, and that one or two men should endeavor to accompany the boat to our side on every trip. it was quite dark when we started. the canoe was formed of a large hollow tree, capable of holding twenty people, and the natives paddled us across the rapid current just below the falls. a large fire was blazing upon the opposite shore, on a level with the river, to guide us to the landing-place. gliding through a narrow passage in the reeds, we touched the shore and landed upon a slippery rock, close to the fire, amid a crowd of people, who immediately struck up a deafening welcome with horns and flageolets, and marched us up the steep face of the rocky cliff through a dark grove of bananas. torches led the way, followed by a long file of spearmen; then came the noisy band and ourselves, i towing my wife up the precipitous path, while my few attendants followed behind with a number of natives who had volunteered to carry the luggage. on arrival at the top of the cliff, we were about feet above the river; and after a walk of about a quarter of a mile, we were triumphantly led into the heart of the village, and halted in a small courtyard in front of the headman's residence. keedja waited to receive us by a blazing fire. not having had anything to eat, we were uncommonly hungry, and to our great delight a basketful of ripe plantains was presented to us. these were the first that i had seen for many years. a gourd bottle of plantain wine was offered and immediately emptied; it resembled extremely poor cider. we were now surrounded by a mass of natives, no longer the naked savages to whom we had been accustomed, but well-dressed men, wearing robes of bark cloth, arranged in various fashions, generally like the arab "tope" or the roman toga. several of the headmen now explained to us the atrocious treachery of debono's men, who had been welcomed as friends of speke and grant, but who had repaid the hospitality by plundering and massacring their hosts. i assured them that no one would be more wroth than speke when i should make him aware of the manner in which his name had been used, and that i should make a point of reporting the circumstance to the british government. at the same time i advised them not to trust any but white people should others arrive in my name or in the names of speke and grant. i upheld their character as that of englishmen, and i begged them to state if ever they had deceived them. they replied that "there could not be better men." i answered, "you must trust me, as i trust entirely in you, and have placed myself in your hands; but if you have ever had cause to mistrust a white man, kill me at once!--either kill me or trust in me; but let there be no suspicions." they seemed much pleased with the conversation, and a man stepped forward and showed me a small string of blue beads that speke bad given him for ferrying him across the river. this little souvenir of my old friend was most interesting. after a year's wandering and many difficulties, this was the first time that i had actually come upon his track. many people told me that they had known speke and grant; the former bore the name of "mollegge" (the bearded one), while grant had been named "masanga" (the elephant's tusk), owing to his height. the latter had been wounded at lucknow during the indian mutiny, and i spoke to the people of the loss of his finger. this crowned my success, as they knew without doubt that i had seen him. it was late, therefore i begged the crowd to depart, but to send a messenger the first thing in the morning to inform kamrasi who we were, and to beg him to permit us to visit him without loss of time. a bundle of straw was laid on the ground for mrs. baker and myself, and, in lieu of other beds, the ground was our resting-place. we were bitterly cold that night, as the guns were packed up in the large blanket, and, not wishing to expose them, we were contented with a scotch plaid each. ibrahim, saat, and richarn watched by turns. on the following morning an immense crowd of natives thronged to see us. there was a very beautiful tree about a hundred yards from the village, capable of shading upward of a thousand men, and i proposed that we should sit beneath this protection and hold a conference. the headman of the village gave us a large hut with a grand doorway about seven feet high, of which my wife took possession, while i joined the crowd at the tree. there were about six hundred men seated respectfully on the ground around me, while i sat with my back to the huge knotty trunk, with ibrahim and richarn at a few paces distant. the subject of conversation was merely a repetition of that of the preceding night, with the simple addition of some questions respecting the lake. not a man would give the slightest information; the only reply, upon my forcing the question, was the pantomime already described, passing the forefinger across the throat, and exclaiming "kamrasi!" the entire population was tongue-locked. i tried the children to no purpose: they were all dumb. white-headed old men i questioned, as to the distance of the lake from this point. they replied, "we are children; ask the old people who know the country." never was freemasonry more secret than in the land of unyoro. it was useless to persevere. i therefore changed the subject by saying that our people were starving on the other side, and that provisions must be sent immediately. in all savage countries the most trifling demand requires much talking. they said that provisions were scarce, and that until kamrasi should give the order, they could give no supplies. understanding most thoroughly the natural instincts of the natives, i told them that i must send the canoe across to fetch three oxen that i wished to slaughter. the bait took at once, and several men ran for the canoe, and we sent one of our black women across with a message to the people that three men, with their guns and ammunition, were to accompany the canoe and guide three oxen across by swimming them with ropes tied to their horns. these were the riding oxen of some of the men that it was necessary to slaughter, to exchange the flesh for flour and other supplies. hardly had the few boatmen departed than some one shouted suddenly, and the entire crowd sprang to their feet and rushed toward the hut where i had left mrs. baker. for the moment i thought that the hut was on fire, and i joined the crowd and arrived at the doorway, where i found a tremendous press to see some extraordinary sight. every one was squeezing for the best place, and, driving them on one side, i found the wonder that had excited their curiosity. the hut being very dark, my wife had employed her solitude during my conference with the natives, in dressing her hair at the doorway, which, being very long and blonde, was suddenly noticed by some natives; a shout was given, the rush described had taken place, and the hut was literally mobbed by the crowd of savages eager to see the extraordinary novelty. the gorilla would not make a greater stir in london streets than we appeared to create at atada. the oxen shortly arrived; one was immediately killed, and the flesh divided into numerous small portions arranged upon the hide. blonde hair and white people immediately lost their attractions, and the crowd turned their attention to beef. we gave them to understand that we required flour, beans, and sweet potatoes in exchange. the market soon went briskly, and the canoe was laden with provisions and sent across to our hungry people on the other side the river. the difference between the unyoro people and the tribes we had hitherto seen was most striking. on the north side of the river the natives were either stark naked or wore a mere apology for clothing in the shape of a skin slung across their shoulders. the river appeared to be the limit of utter savagedom, and the people of unyoro considered the indecency of nakedness precisely in the same light as europeans. nearly all savages have some idea of earthenware; but the scale of advancement of a country between savagedom and civilization may generally be determined by the style of its pottery. the chinese, who were as civilized as they are at the present day at a period when the english were barbarians, were ever celebrated for the manufacture of porcelain, and the difference between savage and civilized countries is always thus exemplified; the savage makes earthenware, but the civilized make porcelain; thus the gradations from the rudest earthenware will mark the improvement in the scale of civilization. the prime utensil of the african savage is a gourd, the shell of which is the bowl presented to him by nature as the first idea from which he is to model. nature, adapting herself to the requirements of animals and man, appears in these savage countries to yield abundantly much that savage man can want. gourds with exceedingly strong shells not only grow wild, which if divided in halves afford bowls, but great and quaint varieties form natural bottles of all sizes, from the tiny vial to the demijohn containing five gallons. the most savage tribes content themselves with the productions of nature, confining their manufacture to a coarse and half-baked jar for carrying water; but the semi-savage, like those of unyoro, afford an example of the first step toward manufacturing art, by their copying from nature. the utter savage makes use of nature--the gourd is his utensil; and the more advanced natives of unyoro adopt it as the model for their pottery. they make a fine quality of jet-black earthenware, producing excellent tobacco-pipes most finely worked in imitation of the small egg-shaped gourd. of the same earthenware they make extremely pretty bowls, and also bottles copied from the varieties of the bottle gourds; thus, in this humble art, we see the first effort of the human mind in manufactures, in taking nature for a model, precisely as the beautiful corinthian capital originated in a design from a basket of flowers. in two days reports were brought that kamrasi had sent a large force, including several of speke's deserters, to inspect me and see if i was really speke's brother. i received them standing, and after thorough inspection i was pronounced to be "speke's own brother," and all were satisfied. however, the business was not yet over; plenty of talk, and another delay of four days was declared necessary until the king should reply to the satisfactory message about to be sent. losing all patience, i stormed, declaring kamrasi to be mere dust, while a white man was a king in comparison. i ordered all my luggage to be conveyed immediately to the canoe, and declared that i would return immediately to my own country; that i did not wish to see any one so utterly devoid of manners as kamrasi, and that no other white man would ever visit his kingdom. the effect was magical! i rose hastily to depart. the chiefs implored, declaring that kamrasi would kill them all if i retreated, to prevent which misfortune they secretly instructed the canoe to be removed. i was in a great rage, and about natives, who were present, scattered in all quarters, thinking that there would be a serious quarrel. i told the chiefs that nothing should stop me, and that i would seize the canoe by force unless my whole party should be brought over from the opposite side that instant. this was agreed upon. one of ibrahim's men exchanged and drank blood from the arm of speke's deserter, who was kamrasi's representative; and peace thus firmly established, several canoes were at once employed, and sixty of our men were brought across the river before sunset. the natives had nevertheless taken the precaution to send all their women away from the village. chapter xix. kamrasi's cowardice--interview with the king--the exchange of blood--the royal beggar's last chance--an astounded sovereign. on january st throngs of natives arrived to carry our luggage gratis, by the king's orders. on the following day my wife became very ill, and had to be carried on a litter during the following days. on february th i also fell ill upon the road, and having been held on my ox by two men for some time, i at length fell into their arms and was laid under a tree for five hours. becoming better, i rode on for two hours. on the route we were delayed in every possible way. i never saw such cowardice as the redoubtable kamrasi exhibited. he left his residence and retreated to the opposite side of the river, from which point he sent us false messages to delay our advance as much as possible. he had not the courage either to repel us or to receive us. on february th he sent word that i was to come on alone. i at once turned back, stating that i no longer wished to see kamrasi, as he must be a mere fool, and i should return to my own country. this created a great stir, and messengers were at once despatched to the king, who returned an answer that i might bring all my men, but that only five of the turks could be allowed with ibrahim. after a quick march of three hours through immense woods we reached the capital--a large village of grass huts situated on a barren slope. we were ferried across a river in large canoes, capable of carrying fifty men, but formed of a single tree upward of four feet wide. kamrasi was reported to be in his residence on the opposite side; but upon our arrival at the south bank we found ourselves thoroughly deceived. we were upon a miserable flat, level with the river, and in the wet season forming a marsh at the junction of the kafoor river with the somerset. the latter river bounded the flat on the east, very wide and sluggish, and much overgrown with papyrus and lotus. the river we had just crossed was the kafoor. it was perfectly dead water and about eighty yards wide, including the beds of papyrus on either side. we were shown some filthy huts that were to form our camp. the spot was swarming with mosquitoes, and we had nothing to eat except a few fowls that i had brought with me. kamrasi was on the other side of the river; they had cunningly separated us from him, and had returned with the canoes. thus we were prisoners upon the swamp. this was our welcome from the king of unyoro! i now heard that speke and grant had been lodged in this same spot. ibrahim was extremely nervous, as were also my men. they declared that treachery was intended, as the boats had been withdrawn, and they proposed that we should swim the river and march back to our main party, who had been left three hours in the rear. i was ill with fever, as was also my wife, and the unwholesome air of the marsh aggravated the disease. our luggage had been left at our last station, as this was a condition stipulated by kamrasi; thus we had to sleep upon the damp ground of the marsh in the filthy hut, as the heavy dew at night necessitated shelter. with great difficulty i accompanied ibrahim and a few men to the bank of the river where we had landed the day before, and, climbing upon a white ant hill to obtain a view over the high reeds, i scanned the village with a telescope. the scene was rather exciting; crowds of people were rushing about in all directions and gathering from all quarters toward the river; the slope from the river to the town m'rooli was black with natives, and i saw about a dozen large canoes preparing to transport them to our side. i returned from my elevated observatory to ibrahim, who, on the low ground only a few yards distant, could not see the opposite side of the river owing to the high grass and reeds. without saying more, i merely begged him to mount upon the ant hill and look toward m'rooli. hardly had he cast a glance at the scene described, than he jumped down from his stand and cried, "they are going to attack us!" "let us retreat to the camp and prepare for a fight!" "let us fire at them from here as they cross in the canoes," cried others; "the buckshot will clear them off when packed in the boats." this my panic-stricken followers would have done had i not been present. "fools!" i said, "do you not see that the natives have no shields with them, but merely lances? would they commence an attack without their shields? kamrasi is coming in state to visit us." this idea was by no means accepted by my people, and we reached our little camp, and, for the sake of precaution, stationed the men in position behind a hedge of thorns. ibrahim had managed to bring twelve picked men instead of five as stipulated; thus we were a party of twenty-four. i was of very little use, as the fever was so strong upon me that i lay helpless on the ground. in a short time the canoes arrived, and for about an hour they were employed in crossing and recrossing, and landing great numbers of men, until they at length advanced and took possession of some huts about yards from our camp. they now hallooed that kamrasi had arrived, and, seeing some oxen with the party, i felt sure they had no evil intentions. i ordered my men to carry me in their arms to the king, and to accompany me with the presents, as i was determined to have a personal interview, although only fit for a hospital. upon my approach, the crowd gave way, and i was shortly laid on a mat at the king's feet. he was a fine-looking man, but with a peculiar expression of countenance, owing to his extremely prominent eyes; he was about six feet high, beautifully clean, and was dressed in a long robe of bark cloth most gracefully folded. the nails of his hands and feet were carefully attended to, and his complexion was about as dark brown as that of an abyssinian. he sat upon a copper stool placed upon a carpet of leopard-skins, and he was surrounded by about ten of his principal chiefs. our interpreter, bacheeta, now informed him who i was, and what were my intentions. he said that he was sorry i had been so long on the road, but that he had been obliged to be cautious, having been deceived by debono's people. i replied that i was an englishman, a friend of speke and grant, that they had described the reception they had met with from him, and that i had come to thank him, and to offer him a few presents in return for his kindness, and to request him to give me a guide to the lake luta n'zige. he laughed at the name, and repeated it several times with his chiefs. he then said it was not luta, but m-wootan n'zige; but that it was six months' journey from m'rooli, and that in my weak condition i could not possibly reach it; that i should die upon the road, and that the king of my country would perhaps imagine that i had been murdered, and might invade his territory. i replied that i was weak with the toil of years in the hot countries of africa, but that i was in search of the great lake, and should not return until i had succeeded; that i had no king, but a powerful queen who watched over all her subjects, and that no englishman could be murdered with impunity; therefore he should send me to the lake without delay, and there would be the less chance of my dying in his country. i explained that the river nile flowed for a distance of two years' journey through wonderful countries, and reached the sea, from which many valuable articles would be sent to him in exchange for ivory, could i only discover the great lake. as a proof of this, i had brought him a few curiosities that i trusted he would accept, and i regretted that the impossibility of procuring porters had necessitated the abandonment of others that had been intended for him. i ordered the men to unpack the persian carpet, which was spread upon the ground before him. i then gave him an abba (large white cashmere mantle), a red silk netted sash, a pair of scarlet turkish shoes, several pairs of socks, a double-barrelled gun and ammunition, and a great heap of first-class beads made up into gorgeous necklaces and girdles. he took very little notice of the presents, but requested that the gun might be fired off. this was done, to the utter confusion of the crowd, who rushed away in such haste that they tumbled over each other like so many rabbits. this delighted the king, who, although himself startled, now roared with laughter. he told me that i must be hungry and thirsty; therefore he hoped i would accept something to eat and drink. accordingly he presented me with seventeen cows, twenty pots of sour plantain cider, and many loads of unripe plantains. i inquired whether speke had left a medicine-chest with him. he replied that it was a very feverish country, and that he and his people had used all the medicine. thus my last hope of quinine was cut off. i had always trusted to obtain a supply from the king, as speke had told me that he had left a bottle with him. it was quite impossible to obtain any information from him, and i was carried back to my hut, where i found mrs. baker lying down with fever, and neither of us could render assistance to the other. on the following morning the king again appeared. i was better, and had a long interview. he did not appear to heed my questions, but he at once requested that i would ally myself with him, and attack his enemy, rionga. i told him that i could not embroil myself in such quarrels, but that i had only one object, which was the lake. i requested that he would give ibrahim a large quantity of ivory, and that on his return from gondokoro he would bring him most valuable articles in exchange. he said that he was not sure whether my belly was black or white; by this he intended to express evil or good intentions; but that if it were white i should, of course, have no objection to exchange blood with him, as a proof of friendship and sincerity. this was rather too strong a dose! i replied that it would be impossible, as in my country the shedding of blood was considered a proof of hostility; therefore he must accept ibrahim as my substitute. accordingly the arms were bared and pricked. as the blood flowed it was licked by either party, and an alliance was concluded. ibrahim agreed to act with him against all his enemies. it was arranged that ibrahim now belonged to kamrasi, and that henceforth our parties should be entirely separate. on february st kamrasi was civil enough to allow us to quit the marsh. my porters had by this time all deserted, and on the following day kamrasi promised to send us porters and to allow us to start at once. there were no preparations made, however, and after some delay we were honored by a visit from kamrasi, who promised we should start on the following day. he concluded, as usual, by asking for my watch and for a number of beads; the latter i gave him, together with a quantity of ammunition for his guns. he showed me a beautiful double-barrelled rifle that speke had given him. i wished to secure this to give to speke on my return to england, as he had told me, when at gondokoro, how he had been obliged to part with that and many other articles sorely against his will. i therefore offered to give him three common double-barrelled guns in exchange for the rifle. this he declined, as he was quite aware of the difference in quality. he then produced a large silver chronometer that he had received from speke. "it was dead," he said, "and he wished me to repair it." this i declared to be impossible. he then confessed to having explained its construction and the cause of the "ticking" to his people, by the aid of a needle, and that it had never ticked since that occasion. i regretted to see such "pearls cast before swine." thus he had plundered speke and grant of all they possessed before he would allow them to proceed. it is the rapacity of the chiefs of the various tribes that renders african exploration so difficult. each tribe wishes to monopolize your entire stock of valuables, without which the traveller would be utterly helpless. the difficulty of procuring porters limits the amount of baggage; thus a given supply must carry you through a certain period of time. if your supply should fail, the expedition terminates with your power of giving. it is thus extremely difficult to arrange the expenditure so as to satisfy all parties and still to retain a sufficient balance. being utterly cut off from all communication with the world, there is no possibility of receiving assistance. the traveller depends entirely upon himself, under providence, and must adapt himself and his means to circumstances. the day of starting at length arrived. the chief and guide appeared, and we were led to the kafoor river, where canoes were in readiness to transport us to the south side. this was to our old quarters on the marsh. the direct course to the lake was west, and i fully expected some deception, as it was impossible to trust kamrasi. i complained to the guide, and insisted upon his pointing out the direction of the lake, which he did, in its real position, west; but he explained that we must follow the south bank of the kafoor river for some days, as there was an impassable morass that precluded a direct course. this did not appear satisfactory, and the whole affair looked suspicious, as we had formerly been deceived by being led across the river to the same spot, and not allowed to return. we were now led along the banks of the kafoor for about a mile, until we arrived at a cluster of huts; here we were to wait for kamrasi, who had promised to take leave of us. the sun was overpowering, and we dismounted from our oxen and took shelter in a blacksmith's shed. in about an hour kamrasi arrived, attended by a considerable number of men, and took his seat in our shed. i felt convinced that his visit was simply intended to peel the last skin from the onion. i had already given him nearly all that i had, but he hoped to extract the whole before i should depart. he almost immediately commenced the conversation by asking for a pretty yellow muslin turkish handkerchief fringed with silver drops that mrs. baker wore upon her head. one of these had already been given to him, and i explained that this was the last remaining, and that she required it.... he "must" have it.... it was given. he then demanded other handkerchiefs. we had literally nothing but a few most ragged towels. he would accept no excuse, and insisted upon a portmanteau being unpacked, that he might satisfy himself by actual inspection. the luggage, all ready for the journey, had to be unstrapped and examined, and the rags were displayed in succession, but so wretched and uninviting was the exhibition of the family linen that he simply returned them, and said they did not suit him. beads he must have, or i was "his enemy." a selection of the best opal beads was immediately given him. i rose from the stone upon which i was sitting and declared that we must start immediately. "don't be in a hurry," he replied; "you have plenty of time; but you have not given me that watch you promised me."... this was my only watch that he had begged for, and had been refused, every day during my stay at m'rooli. so pertinacious a beggar i had never seen. i explained to him that without the watch my journey would be useless, but that i would give him all that i had except the watch when the exploration should be completed, as i should require nothing on my direct return to gondokoro. at the same time i repeated to him the arrangement for the journey that he had promised, begging him not to deceive me, as my wife and i should both die if we were compelled to remain another year in this country by losing the annual boats at gondokoro. the understanding was this: he was to give me porters to the lake, where i was to be furnished with canoes to take me to magungo, which was situated at the junction of the somerset. from magungo he told me that i should see the nile issuing from the lake close to the spot where the somerset entered, and that the canoes should take me down the river, and porters should carry my effects from the nearest point to shooa, and deliver me at my old station without delay. should he be faithful to this engagement, i trusted to procure porters from shooa, and to reach gondokoro in time for the annual boats. i had arranged that a boat should be sent from khartoum to await me at gondokoro early in this year, ; but i felt sure that should i be long delayed, the boat would return without me, as the people would be afraid to remain alone at gondokoro after the other boats had quitted. in our present weak state another year of central africa without quinine appeared to warrant death. it was a race against time; all was untrodden ground before us, and the distance quite uncertain. i trembled for my wife, and weighed the risk of another year in this horrible country should we lose the boats. with the self-sacrificing devotion that she had shown in every trial, she implored me not to think of any risks on her account, but to push forward and discover the lake--that she had determined not to return until she had herself reached the "m'wootan n'zige." i now requested kamrasi to allow us to take leave, as we had not an hour to lose. in the coolest manner he replied, "i will send you to the lake and to shooa, as i have promised, but you must leave your wife with me!" at that moment we were surrounded by a great number of natives, and my suspicions of treachery at having been led across the kafoor river appeared confirmed by this insolent demand. if this were to be the end of the expedition, i resolved that it should also be the end of kamrasi, and drawing my revolver quickly, i held it within two feet of his chest, and looking at him with undisguised contempt, i told him that if i touched the trigger, not all his men could save him; and that if he dared to repeat the insult i would shoot him on the spot. at the same time i explained to him that in my country such insolence would entail bloodshed, and that i looked upon him as an ignorant ox who knew no better, and that this excuse alone could save him. my wife, naturally indignant, had risen from her seat, and maddened with the excitement of the moment she made him a little speech in arabic (not a word of which he understood), with a countenance almost as amiable as the head of medusa. altogether the mine en scene utterly astonished him. the woman bacheeta, although savage, had appropriated the insult to her mistress, and she also fearlessly let fly at kamrasi, translating as nearly as she could the complimentary address that "medusa" had just delivered. whether this little coup be theatre had so impressed kamrasi with british female independence that he wished to be quit of his proposed bargain, i cannot say; but with an air of complete astonishment he said, "don't be angry! i had no intention of offending you by asking for your wife. i will give your a wife, if you want one, and i thought you might have no objection to give me yours; it is my custom to give my visitors pretty wives, and i thought you might exchange. don't make a fuss about it; if you don't like it, there's an end of it; i will never mention it again." this very practical apology i received very sternly, and merely insisted upon starting. he seemed rather confused at having committed himself, and to make amends he called his people and ordered them to carry our loads. his men ordered a number of women, who had assembled out of curiosity, to shoulder the luggage and carry it to the next village, where they would be relieved. i assisted my wife upon her ox, and with a very cold adieu to kamrasi i turned my back most gladly on m'rooli. chapter xx. a satanic escort--prostrated by sun-stroke--days and nights of sorrow-the reward for all our labor. the country was a vast flat of grass land interspersed with small villages and patches of sweet potatoes. these were very inferior, owing to the want of drainage. for about two miles we continued on the banks of the kafoor river. the women who carried the luggage were straggling in disorder, and my few men were much scattered in their endeavors to collect them. we approached a considerable village; but just as we were nearing it, out rushed about six hundred men with lances and shields, screaming and yelling like so many demons. for the moment i thought it was an attack, but almost immediately i noticed that women and children were mingled with the men. my men had not taken so cool a view of the excited throng that was now approaching us at full speed, brandishing their spears, and engaging with each other in mock combat. "there's a fight! there's a fight!" my men exclaimed; "we are attacked! fire at them, ilawaga." however, in a few seconds i persuaded them that it was a mere parade, and that there was no danger. with a rush like a cloud of locusts the natives closed around us, dancing, gesticulating, and yelling before my ox, feigning to attack us with spears and shields, then engaging in sham fights with each other, and behaving like so many madmen. a very tall chief accompanied them; and one of their men was suddenly knocked down and attacked by the crowd with sticks and lances, and lay on the ground covered with blood. what his offence had been i did not hear. the entire crowd were most grotesquely got up, being dressed in either leopard or white monkey skins, with cows' tails strapped on behind and antelopes' horns fitted upon their heads, while their chins were ornamented with false beards made of the bushy ends of cows' tails sewed together. altogether i never saw a more unearthly set of creatures; they were perfect illustrations of my childish ideas of devils-horns, tails, and all, excepting the hoofs. they were our escort, furnished by kamrasi to accompany us to the lake! fortunately for all parties, the turks were not with us on that occasion, or the satanic escort would certainly have been received with a volley when they so rashly advanced to compliment us by their absurd performances. we marched till p.m. over flat, uninteresting country, and then halted at a miserable village which the people had deserted, as they expected our arrival. the following morning i found much difficulty in getting our escort together, as they had been foraging throughout the neighborhood; these "devil's own" were a portion of kamrasi's troops, who considered themselves entitled to plunder ad libitum throughout the march; however, after some delay they collected, and their tall chief approached me and begged that a gun might be fired as a curiosity. the escort had crowded around us, and as the boy saat was close to me i ordered him to fire his gun. this was saat's greatest delight, and bang went one barrel unexpectedly, close to the tall chief's ear. the effect was charming. the tall chief, thinking himself injured, clasped his head with both hands, and bolted through the crowd, which, struck with a sudden panic, rushed away in all directions, the "devil's own" tumbling over each other and utterly scattered by the second barrel which saat exultingly fired in derision, as kamrasi's warlike regiment dissolved before a sound. i felt quite sure that, in the event of a fight, one scream from the "baby," with its charge of forty small bullets, would win the battle if well delivered into a crowd of kamrasi's troops. on the morning of the second day we had difficulty in collecting porters, those of the preceding day having absconded; and others were recruited from distant villages by the native escort, who enjoyed the excuse of hunting for porters, as it gave them an opportunity of foraging throughout the neighborhood. during this time we had to wait until the sun was high; we thus lost the cool hours of morning, and it increased our fatigue. having at length started, we arrived in the afternoon at the kafoor river, at a bend from the south where it was necessary to cross over in our westerly course. the stream was in the centre of a marsh, and although deep, it was so covered with thickly-matted water-grass and other aquatic plants, that a natural floating bridge was established by a carpet of weeds about two feet thick. upon this waving and unsteady surface the men ran quickly across, sinking merely to the ankles, although beneath the tough vegetation there was deep water. it was equally impossible to ride or to be carried over this treacherous surface; thus i led the way, and begged mrs. baker to follow me on foot as quickly as possible, precisely in my track. the river was about eighty yards wide, and i had scarcely completed a fourth of the distance and looked back to see if my wife followed close to me, when i was horrified to see her standing in one spot and sinking gradually through the weeds, while her face was distorted and perfectly purple. almost as soon as i perceived her she fell as though shot dead. in an instant i was by her side, and with the assistance of eight or ten of my men, who were fortunately close to me, i dragged her like a corpse through the yielding vegetation; and up to our waists we scrambled across to the other side, just keeping her head above the water. to have carried her would have been impossible, as we should all have sunk together through the weeds. i laid her under a tree and bathed her head and face with water, as for the moment i thought she had fainted; but she lay perfectly insensible, as though dead, with teeth and hands firmly clinched, and her eyes open but fixed. it was a coup de soleil--a sun-stroke. many of the porters had gone on ahead with the baggage, and i started off a man in haste to recall an angarep upon which to carry her and also for a bag with a change of clothes, as we had dragged her through the river. it was in vain that i rubbed her heart and the black women rubbed her feet to restore animation. at length the litter came, and after changing her clothes she was carried mournfully forward as a corpse. constantly we had to halt and support her head, as a painful rattling in the throat betokened suffocation. at length we reached a village, and halted for the night. i laid her carefully in a miserable hut, and watched beside her. i opened her clinched teeth with a small wooden wedge and inserted a wet rag, upon which i dropped water to moisten her tongue, which was dry as fur. the unfeeling brutes that composed the native escort were yelling and dancing as though all were well, and i ordered their chief at once to return with them to kamrasi, as i would travel with them no longer. at first they refused to return, until at length i vowed that i would fire into them should they accompany us on the following morning. day broke, and it was a relief to have got rid of the brutal escort. they had departed, and i had now my own men and the guides supplied by kamrasi. there was nothing to eat in this spot. my wife had never stirred since she fell by the coup de soleil, and merely respired about five times in a minute. it was impossible to remain; the people would have starved. she was laid gently upon her litter, and we started forward on our funereal course. i was ill and broken-hearted, and i followed by her side through the long day's march over wild park lands and streams, with thick forest and deep marshy bottoms, over undulating hills and through valleys of tall papyrus rushes, which, as we brushed through them on our melancholy way, waved over the litter like the black plumes of a hearse. we halted at a village, and again the night was passed in watching. i was wet and coated with mud from the swampy marsh, and shivered with ague; but the cold within was greater than all. no change had taken place; she had never moved. i had plenty of fat, and i made four balls of about half a pound, each of which would burn for three hours. a piece of a broken water-jar formed a lamp, several pieces of rag serving for wicks. so in solitude the still calm night passed away as i sat by her side and watched. in the drawn and distorted features that lay before me i could hardly trace the same face that for years had been my comfort through all the difficulties and dangers of my path. was she to die? was so terrible a sacrifice to be the result of my selfish exile? again the night passed away. once more the march. though weak and ill, and for two nights without a moment's sleep, i felt no fatigue, but mechanically followed by the side of the litter as though in a dream. the same wild country diversified with marsh and forest! again we halted. the night came, and i sat by her side in a miserable hut, with the feeble lamp flickering while she lay as in death. she had never moved a muscle since she fell. my people slept. i was alone, and no sound broke the stillness of the night. the ears ached at the utter silence, till the sudden wild cry of a hyena made me shudder as the horrible thought rushed through my brain that, should she be buried in this lonely spot, the hyena--would disturb her rest. the morning was not far distant; it was past four o'clock. i had passed the night in replacing wet cloths upon her head and moistening her lips, as she lay apparently lifeless on her litter. i could do nothing more; in solitude and abject misery in that dark hour, in a country of savage heathen, thousands of miles away from a christian land, i beseeched an aid above all human, trusting alone to him. the morning broke; my lamp had just burned out, and cramped with the night's watching i rose from my low seat and seeing that she lay in the same unaltered state i went to the door of the hut to breathe one gasp of the fresh morning air. i was watching the first red streak that heralded the rising sun, when i was startled by the words, "thank god," faintly uttered behind me. suddenly she had awoke from her torpor, and with a heart overflowing i went to her bedside. her eyes were full of madness! she spoke, but the brain was gone! i will not inflict a description of the terrible trial of seven days of brain fever, with its attendant horrors. the rain poured in torrents, and day after day we were forced to travel for want of provisions, not being able to remain in one position. every now and then we shot a few guinea-fowl, but rarely; there was no game, although the country was most favorable. in the forests we procured wild honey, but the deserted villages contained no supplies, as we were on the frontier of uganda, and m'tese's people had plundered the district. for seven nights i had not slept, and although as weak as a reed, i had marched by the side of her litter. nature could resist no longer. we reached a village one evening. she had been in violent convulsions successively; it was all but over. i laid her down on her litter within a hat, covered her with a scotch plaid, and fell upon my mat insensible, worn out with sorrow and fatigue. my men put a new handle to the pickaxe that evening, and sought for a dry spot to dig her grave! the sun had risen when i woke. i had slept, and horrified as the idea flashed upon me that she must be dead and that i had not been with her, i started up. she lay upon her bed, pale as marble, and with that calm serenity that the features assume when the cares of life no longer act upon the mind and the body rests in death. the dreadful thought bowed me down; but as i gazed upon her in fear her chest gently heaved, not with the convulsive throbs of fever, but naturally. she was asleep; and when at a sudden noise she opened her eyes, they were calm and clear. she was saved! when not a ray of hope remained, god alone knows what helped us. the gratitude of that moment i will not attempt to describe. fortunately there were many fowls in this village. we found several nests of fresh eggs in the straw which littered the hut; these were most acceptable after our hard fare, and produced a good supply of soup. having rested for two days we again moved forward, mrs. baker being carried on a litter. the next day we reached the village of parkani. for several days past our guides had told us that we were very near to the lake, and we were now assured that we should reach it on the morrow. i had noticed a lofty range of mountains at an immense distance west, and i had imagined that the lake lay on the other side of this chain; but i was now informed that those mountains formed the western frontier of the m'wootan n'zige, and that the lake was actually within a day's march of parkani. i could not believe it possible that we were so near the object of our search. the guide rabonga now appeared, and declared that if we started early on the following morning we should be able to wash in the lake by noon! that night i hardly slept. for years i had striven to reach the "sources of the nile." in my nightly dreams during that arduous voyage i had always failed, but after so much hard work and perseverance the cup was at my very lips, and i was to drink at the mysterious fountain before another sun should set--at that great reservoir of nature that ever since creation had baffled all discovery. i had hoped, and prayed, and striven through all kinds of difficulties, in sickness, starvation, and fatigue, to reach that hidden source; and when it had appeared impossible we had both determined to die upon the road rather than return defeated. was it possible that it was so near, and that to-morrow we could say, "the work is accomplished"? the sun had not risen when i was spurring my ox after the guide, who, having been promised a double handful of beads on arrival at the lake, had caught the enthusiasm of the moment. the day broke beautifully clear, and having crossed a deep valley between the hills, we toiled up the opposite slope. i hurried to the summit. the glory of our prize burst suddenly upon me! there, like a sea of quicksilver, lay far beneath the grand expanse of water--a boundless sea horizon on the south and south-west, glittering in the noonday sun; and in the west, at fifty or sixty miles' distance, blue mountains rose from the bosom of the lake to a height of about feet above its level. it is impossible to describe the triumph of that moment. here was the reward for all our labor--for the years of tenacity with which we had toiled through africa. england had won the sources of the nile! long before i reached this spot i had arranged to give three cheers with all our men in english style in honor of the discovery; but now that i looked down upon the great inland sea lying nestled in the very heart of africa, and thought how vainly mankind had sought these sources throughout so many ages, and reflected that i had been the humble instrument permitted to unravel this portion of the great mystery when so many greater than i had failed, i felt too serious to vent my feelings in vain cheers for victory, and i sincerely thanked god for having guided and supported us through all dangers to the good end. i was about feet above the lake, and i looked down from the steep granite cliff upon those welcome waters--upon that vast reservoir which nourished egypt and brought fertility where all was wilderness--upon that great source so long hidden from mankind, that source of bounty and of blessings to millions of human beings; and as one of the greatest objects in nature, i determined to honor it with a great name. as an imperishable memorial of one loved and mourned by our gracious queen and deplored by every englishman, i called this great lake "the albert n'yanza." the victoria and the albert lakes are the two sources of the nile. the zigzag path to descend to the lake was so steep and dangerous that we were forced to leave our oxen with a guide, who was to take them to magungo and wait for our arrival. we commenced the descent of the steep pass on foot. i led the way, grasping a stout bamboo. my wife in extreme weakness tottered down the pass, supporting herself upon my shoulder, and stopping to rest every twenty paces. after a toilsome descent of about two hours, weak with years of fever, but for the moment strengthened by success, we gained the level plain below the cliff. a walk of about a mile through flat sandy meadows of fine turf interspersed with trees and bushes brought us to the water's edge. the waves were rolling upon a white pebbly beach; i rushed into the lake, and thirsty with heat and fatigue, with a heart full of gratitude, i drank deeply from the sources of the nile. chapter xxi. the cradle of the nile--arrival at magungo--the blind leading the blind--murchison falls. the beach was perfectly clean sand, upon which the waves rolled like those of the sea, throwing up weeds precisely as seaweed may be seen upon the english shore. it was a grand sight to look upon this vast reservoir of the mighty nile and to watch the heavy swell tumbling upon the beach, while far to the south-west the eye searched as vainly for a bound as though upon the atlantic. it was with extreme emotion that i enjoyed this glorious scene. my wife, who had followed me so devotedly, stood by my side pale and exhausted--a wreck upon the shores of the great albert lake that we had so long striven to reach. no european foot had ever trod upon its sand, nor had the eyes of a white man ever scanned its vast expanse of water. we were the first; and this was the key to the great secret that even julius caesar yearned to unravel, but in vain. here was the great basin of the nile that received every drop of water, even from the passing shower to the roaring mountain torrent that drained from central africa toward the north. this was the great reservoir of the nile! the first coup d'oeil from the summit of the cliff feet above the level had suggested what a closer examination confirmed. the lake was a vast depression far below the general level of the country, surrounded by precipitous cliffs, and bounded on the west and south-west by great ranges of mountains from five to seven thousand feet above the level of its waters--thus it was the one great reservoir into which everything must drain; and from this vast rocky cistern the nile made its exit, a giant in its birth. it was a grand arrangement of nature for the birth of so mighty and important a stream as the river nile. the victoria n'yanza of speke formed a reservoir at a high altitude, receiving a drainage from the west by the kitangule river; and speke had seen the m'fumbiro mountain at a great distance as a peak among other mountains from which the streams descended, which by uniting formed the main river kitangule, the principal feeder of the victoria lake from the west, in about degrees s. latitude. thus the same chain of mountains that fed the victoria on the east must have a watershed to the west and north that would flow into the albert lake. the general drainage of the nile basin tending from south to north, and the albert lake extending much farther north than the victoria, it receives the river from the latter lake, and thus monopolizes the entire head-waters of the nile. the albert is the grand reservoir, while the victoria is the eastern source. the parent streams that form these lakes are from the same origin, and the kitangule sheds its waters to the victoria to be received eventually by the albert, precisely as the highlands of m'fumbiro and the blue mountains pour their northern drainage directly into the albert lake. that many considerable affluents flow into the albert lake there is no doubt. the two waterfalls seen by telescope upon the western shore descending from the blue mountains must be most important streams, or they could not have been distinguished at so great a distance as fifty or sixty miles. the natives assured me that very many streams, varying in size, descended the mountains upon all sides into the general reservoir. it was most important that we should hurry forward on our journey, as our return to england depended entirely upon the possibility of reaching gondokoro before the end of april, otherwise the boats would have departed. i started off rabonga, to magungo, where he was to meet us with riding oxen. we were encamped at a small village on the shore of the lake, called vacovia. on the following morning not one of our party could rise from the ground. thirteen men, the boy saat, four women, besides my wife and me, were all down with fever. the natives assured us that all strangers suffered in a like manner. the delay in supplying boats was most annoying, as every hour was precious. the lying natives deceived us in every possible manner, delaying us purposely in hope of extorting beads. the latitude of vacovia was deg. ' n.; longitude deg. ' e. my farthest southern point on the road from m'rooli was latitude deg. '. we were now to turn our faces toward the north, and every day's journey would bring us nearer home. but where was home? as i looked at the map of the world, and at the little red spot that represented old england far, far away, and then gazed on the wasted form and haggard face of my wife and at my own attenuated frame, i hardly dared hope for home again. we had now been three years ever toiling onward, and having completed the exploration of all the abyssinian affluents of the nile, in itself an arduous undertaking, we were now actually at the nile head. we had neither health nor supplies, and the great journey lay all before us. eight days were passed at vacovia before we could obtain boats, which, when they did come, proved to be mere trees neatly hollowed out in the shape of canoes. at last we were under way, and day after day we journeyed along the shore of the lake, stopping occasionally at small villages, and being delayed now and then by deserting boatmen. the discomforts of this lake voyage were great; in the day we were cramped in our small cabin like two tortoises in one shell, and at night it almost invariably rained. we were accustomed to the wet, but no acclimatization can render the european body mosquito-proof; thus we had little rest. it was hard work for me; but for my unfortunate wife, who had hardly recovered from her attack of coup de soleil, such hardships were most distressing. on the thirteenth day from vacovia we found ourselves at the end of our lake voyage. the lake at this point was between fifteen and twenty miles across, and the appearance of the country to the north was that of a delta. the shores upon either side were choked with vast banks of reeds, and as the canoe skirted the edge of that upon the east coast we could find no bottom with a bamboo of twenty-five feet in length, although the floating mass appeared like terra firma. we were in a perfect wilderness of vegetation. on the west were mountains about feet above the lake level, a continuation of the chain that formed the western shore from the south. these mountains decreased in height toward the north, in which direction the lake terminated in a broad valley of reeds. we were informed that we had arrived at magungo, and after skirting the floating reeds for about a mile we entered a broad channel, which we were told was the embouchure of the somerset river from victoria n'yanza. in a short time we landed at magungo, where we were welcomed by the chief and by our guide rabonga, who had been sent in advance to procure oxen. the exit of the nile from the lake was plain enough, and if the broad channel of dead water were indeed the entrance of the victoria nile (somerset), the information obtained by speke would be remarkably confirmed. but although the chief of magungo and all the natives assured me that the broad channel of dead water at my feet was positively the brawling river that i had crossed below the karuma falls, i could not understand how so fine a body of water as that had appeared could possibly enter the albert lake as dead water. the guide and natives laughed at my unbelief, and declared that it was dead water for a considerable distance from the junction with the lake, but that a great waterfall rushed down from a mountain, and that beyond that fall the river was merely a succession of cataracts throughout the entire distance of about six days' march to karuma falls. my real wish was to descend the nile in canoes from its exit from the lake with my own men as boatmen, and thus in a short time to reach the cataracts in the madi country; there to forsake the canoes and all my baggage, and to march direct to gondokoro with only our guns and ammunition. i knew from native report that the nile was navigable as far as the madi country to about miani's tree, which speke had laid down by astronomical observation in lat. "degrees" '. this would be only seven days' march from gondokoro, and by such a direct course i should be sure to arrive in time for the boats to khartoum. i had promised speke that i would explore most thoroughly the doubtful portion of the river that he had been forced to neglect from karuma falls to the lake. i was myself confused at the dead-water junction; and although i knew that the natives must be right--as it was their own river, and they had no inducement to mislead me--i was determined to sacrifice every other wish in order to fulfil my promise, and thus to settle the nile question most absolutely. that the nile flowed out of the lake i had heard, and i had also confirmed by actual inspection; from magungo i looked upon the two countries, koshi and madi, through which it flowed, and these countries i must actually pass through and again meet the nile before i could reach gondokoro. thus the only point necessary to settle was the river between the lake and the karuma falls. the boats being ready, we took leave of the chief of magungo, leaving him an acceptable present of beads, and descended the hill to the river, thankful at having so far successfully terminated the expedition as to have traced the lake to that important point, magungo, which had been our clew to the discovery even so far away in time and place as the distant country of latooka. we were both very weak and ill, and my knees trembled beneath me as we walked down the easy descent. i, in my enervated state, endeavoring to assist my wife, we were the "blind leading the blind;" but had life closed on that day we could have died most happily, for the hard fight through sickness and misery had ended in victory; and although i looked to home as a paradise never to be regained, i could have lain down to sleep in contentment on this spot, with the consolation that, if the body had been vanquished, we died with the prize in our grasp. on arrival at the canoes we found everything in readiness, and the boatmen already in their places. once in the broad channel of dead water we steered due east, and made rapid way until the evening. the river as it now appeared, although devoid of current, was on an average about yards in width. before we halted for the night i was subjected to a most severe attack of fever, and upon the boat reaching a certain spot i was carried on a litter, perfectly unconscious, to a village, attended carefully by my poor sick wife, who, herself half dead, followed me on foot through the marches in pitch darkness, and watched over me until the morning. at daybreak i was too weak to stand, and we were both carried down to the canoes, and crawling helplessly within our grass awning we lay down like logs while the canoes continued their voyage. many of our men were also suffering from fever. the malaria of the dense masses of floating vegetation was most poisonous, and upon looking back to the canoe that followed in our wake i observed all my men sitting crouched together sick and dispirited, looking like departed spirits being ferried across the melancholy styx. the woman bacheeta knew the country, as she had formerly been to magungo when in the service of sali, who had been subsequently murdered by kamrasi. she informed me on the second day that we should terminate our canoe voyage on that day, as we should arrive at the great waterfall of which she had often spoken. as we proceeded the river gradually narrowed to about yards, and when the paddles ceased working we could distinctly hear the roar of water. i had heard this on waking in the morning, but at the time i had imagined it to proceed from distant thunder. by ten o'clock the current had so increased as we proceeded that it was distinctly perceptible, although weak. the roar of the waterfall was extremely loud, and after sharp pulling for a couple of hours, during which time the stream increased, we arrived at a few deserted fishing-huts, at a point where the river made a slight turn. i never saw such an extraordinary show of crocodiles as were exposed on every sandbank on the sides of the river. they lay like logs of timber close together, and upon one bank we counted twenty-seven of large size. every basking place was crowded in a similar manner. from the time we had fairly entered the river it had been confined by heights somewhat precipitous on either side, rising to about feet. at this point the cliffs were still higher and exceedingly abrupt. from the roar of the water i was sure that the fall would be in sight if we turned the corner at the bend of the river; accordingly i ordered the boatmen to row as far as they could. to this they at first objected, as they wished to stop at the deserted fishing village, which they explained was to be the limit of the journey, further progress being impossible. however, i explained that i merely wished to see the falls, and they rowed immediately up the stream, which was now strong against us. upon rounding the corner a magnificent sight burst suddenly upon us. on either side the river were beautifully wooded cliffs rising abruptly to a height of about feet; rocks were jutting out from the intensely green foliage; and rushing through a gap that cleft the rock exactly before us, the river, contracted from a grand stream, was pent up in a narrow gorge of scarcely fifty yards in width. roaring furiously through the rock-bound pass, it plunged in one leap of about feet perpendicular into a dark abyss below. the fall of water was snow-white, which had a superb effect as it contrasted with the dark cliffs that walled the river, while the graceful palms of the tropics and wild plantains perfected the beauty of the view. this was the greatest waterfall of the nile, and in honor of the distinguished president of the royal geographical society i named it the murchison falls, as the most important object throughout the entire course of the river. at this point we had ordered our oxen to be sent, as we could go no farther in the canoes. we found the oxen ready for us; but if we looked wretched, the animals were a match. they had been bitten by the flies, thousands of which were at this spot. their coats were staring, ears drooping, noses running, and heads hanging down--all the symptoms of fly-bite, together with extreme looseness of the bowels. i saw that it was all up with our animals. weak as i was myself, i was obliged to walk, as my ox could not carry me up the steep inclination. i toiled languidly to the summit of the cliff, and we were soon above the falls, and arrived at a small village a little before evening. on the following morning we started, the route as before being parallel to the river, and so close that the roar of the rapids was extremely loud. the river flowed in a deep ravine upon our left. we continued for a day's march along the somerset, crossing many ravines and torrents, until we turned suddenly down to the left, and arriving at the bank we were to be transported to an island called patooan, that was the residence of a chief. it was about an hour after sunset, and, being dark, my riding ox, which was being driven as too weak to carry me, fell into an elephant pitfall. after much hallooing, a canoe was brought from the island, which was not more than fifty yards from the mainland, and we were ferried across. we were both very ill with a sudden attack of fever; and my wife, not being able to stand, was, on arrival at the island, carried on a litter i knew not whither, escorted by some of my men, while i lay down on the wet ground quite exhausted with the annihilating disease. at length the rest of my men crossed over, and those who had carried my wife to the village returning with firebrands, i managed to creep after them with the aid of a long stick, upon which i rested with both hands. after a walk through a forest of high trees for about a quarter of a mile, i arrived at a village where i was shown a wretched hut, the stars being visible through the roof. in this my wife lay dreadfully ill upon her angarep, and i fell down upon some straw. about an hour later a violent thunderstorm broke over us, and our hut was perfectly flooded. being far too ill and helpless to move from our positions, we remained dripping wet and shivering with fever until the morning. our servants and people had, like all native, made themselves much more comfortable than their employers; nor did they attempt to interfere with our misery in any way until summoned to appear at sunrise. the island of patooan was about half a mile long by yards wide, and was one of the numerous masses of rocks that choke the river between karuma falls and the great murchison cataract. my headman now informed me that war was raging between kamrasi and his rivals, fowooka and rionga, and it would be impossible to proceed along the bank of the river to karuma. my exploration was finished, however, as it was by no means necessary to continue the route from patooan to karuma. chapter xxii. prisoners on the island--left to starve--months of helplessness--we rejoin the turks--the real kamrasi--in the presence of royalty. we were prisoners on the island of patooan as we could not procure porters at any price to remove our effects. we had lost all our riding oxen within a few days. they had succumbed to the flies, and the only animal alive was already half dead; this was the little bull that had always carried the boy saat. it was the th of april, and within a few days the boats upon which we depended for our return to civilization would assuredly quit gondokoro. i offered the natives all the beads that i had (about lbs.) and the whole of my baggage, if they would carry us to shooa directly from this spot. we were in perfect despair, as we were both completely worn out with fever and fatigue, and certain death seemed to stare us in the face should we remain in this unhealthy spot. worse than death was the idea of losing the boats and becoming prisoners for another year in this dreadful land, which must inevitably happen should we not hurry directly to gondokoro without delay. the natives with their usual cunning at length offered to convey us to shooa, provided that i paid them the beads in advance. the boats were prepared to ferry us across the river; but i fortunately discovered through the woman bacheeta their treacherous intention of placing us on the uninhabited wilderness on the north side, and leaving us to die of hunger. they had conspired together to land us, but to return immediately with the boats after having thus got rid of the incubus of their guests. we were in a great dilemma. had we been in good health, i would have forsaken everything but the guns and ammunition, and have marched directly to gondokoro on foot; but this was utterly impossible. neither my wife nor i could walk a quarter of a mile without fainting. there was no guide, and the country was now overgrown with impenetrable grass and tangled vegetation eight feet high. we were in the midst of the rainy season--not a day passed without a few hours of deluge. altogether it was a most heart-breaking position. added to the distress of mind at being thus thwarted, there was also a great scarcity of provision. many of my men were weak, the whole party having suffered much from fever; in fact, we were completely helpless. our guide, rabonga, who had accompanied us from m'rooli, had absconded, and we were left to shift for ourselves. i was determined not to remain on the island, as i suspected that the boats might be taken away, and that we should be kept prisoners; i therefore ordered my men to take the canoes, and to ferry us to the main land, from whence we had come. the headman, upon hearing this order, offered to carry us to a village, and then to await orders from kamrasi as to whether we were to be forwarded to shooa or not. the district in which the island of patooan was situated was called shooa moru, although having no connection with the shooa in the madi country to which we were bound. we were ferried across to the main shore, and my wife and i, in our respective angareps, were carried by the natives for about three miles. arriving at a deserted village, half of which was in ashes, having been burned and plundered by the enemy, we were deposited on the ground in front of an old hut in the pouring rain, and were informed that we should remain there that night, but that on the following morning we should proceed to our destination. not trusting the natives, i ordered my men to disarm them, and to retain their spears and shields as security for their appearance on the following day. this effected, we were carried into a filthy hut about six inches deep in mud, as the roof was much out of repair, and the heavy rain had flooded it daily for some weeks. i had a canal cut through the muddy floor, and in misery and low spirits we took possession. on the following morning not a native was present! we had been entirely deserted; although i held the spears and shields, every man had absconded. there were neither inhabitants nor provisions. the whole country was a wilderness of rank grass that hemmed us in on all sides. not an animal, nor even a bird, was to be seen; it was a miserable, damp, lifeless country. we were on elevated ground, and the valley of the somerset was about two miles to our north, the river roaring sullenly in its obstructed passage, its course marked by the double belt of huge dark trees that grew upon its banks. my men naturally felt outraged and proposed that we should return to patooan, seize the canoes, and take provisions by force, as we had been disgracefully deceived. the natives had merely deposited us here to get us out of the way, and in this spot we might starve. of course i would not countenance the proposal of seizing provisions, but i directed my men to search among the ruined villages for buried corn, in company with the woman bacheeta, who, being a native of this country, would be up to the ways of the people, and might assist in the discovery. after some hours passed in rambling over the black ashes of several villages that had been burned, they discovered a hollow place, by sounding the earth with a stick, and, upon digging, arrived at a granary of the seed known as "tullaboon;" this was a great prize, as, although mouldy and bitter, it would keep us from starving. the women of the party were soon hard at work grinding, as many of the necessary stones had been found among the ruins. fortunately there were three varieties of plants growing wild in great profusion, that, when boiled, were a good substitute for spinach; thus we were rich in vegetables, although without a morsel of fat or animal food. our dinner consisted daily of a mess of black porridge of bitter mouldy flour that no english pig would condescend to notice, and a large dish of spinach. "better a dinner of herbs where love is," etc. often occurred to me; but i am not sure that i was quite of that opinion after a fortnight's grazing upon spinach. tea and coffee were things of the past, the very idea of which made our months water; but i found a species of wild thyme growing in the jungles, and this when boiled formed a tolerable substitute for tea. sometimes our men procured a little wild honey, which added to the thyme tea we considered a great luxury. this wretched fare, in our exhausted state from fever and general effects of climate, so completely disabled us that for nearly two months my wife lay helpless on one angarep, and i upon the other. neither of us could walk. the hut was like all in kamrasi's country, with a perfect forest of thick poles to support the roof (i counted thirty-two); thus, although it was tolerably large, there was but little accommodation. these poles we now found very convenient, as we were so weak that we could not rise from bed without lifting ourselves up by one of the supports. we were very nearly dead, and our amusement was a childish conversation about the good things in england, and my idea of perfect happiness was an english beefsteak and a bottle of pale ale; for such a luxury i would most willingly have sold my birthright at that hungry moment. we were perfect skeletons, and it was annoying to see how we suffered upon the bad fare, while our men apparently throve. there were plenty of wild red peppers, and the men seemed to enjoy a mixture of porridge and legumes a la sauce piquante. they were astonished at my falling away on this food, but they yielded to my argument when i suggested that a "lion would starve where a donkey grew fat." i must confess that this state of existence did not improve my temper, which, i fear, became nearly as bitter as the porridge. my people had a windfall of luck, as saat's ox, that had lingered for a long time, lay down to die, and stretching himself out, commenced kicking his last kick. the men immediately assisted him by cutting his throat, and this supply of beef was a luxury which, even in my hungry state, was not the english beefsteak for which i sighed, and i declined the diseased bull. the men made several long excursions through the country to purchase provisions, but in two months they procured only two kids; the entire country was deserted, owing to the war between kamrasi and fowooka. every day the boy saat and the woman bacheeta sallied out and conversed with the inhabitants of the different islands on the river. sometimes, but very rarely, they returned with a fowl; such an event caused great rejoicing. we gave up all hope of gondokoro, and were resigned to our fate. this, we felt sure, was to be buried in chopi, the name of our village. i wrote instructions in my journal, in case of death, and told my headman to be sure to deliver my maps, observations, and papers to the english consul at khartoum. this was my only care, as i feared that all my labor might be lost should i die. i had no fear for my wife, as she was quite as bad as i, and if one should die the other would certainly follow; in fact, this had been agreed upon, lest she should fall into the hands of kamrasi at my death. we had struggled to win, and i thanked god that we had won. if death were to be the price, at all events we were at the goal, and we both looked upon death rather as a pleasure, as affording rest. there would be no more suffering, no fever, no long journey before us, that in our weak state was an infliction. the only wish was to lay down the burden. curious is the warfare between the animal instincts and the mind! death would have been a release that i would have courted; but i should have liked that one "english beefsteak and pale ale" before i died! during our misery of constant fever and starvation at shooa moru, insult had been added to injury. there was no doubt that we had been thus deserted by kamrasi's orders, as every seven or eight days one of his chiefs arrived and told me that the king was with his army only four days' march from me, and that he was preparing to attack fowooka, but that he wished me to join him, as with my fourteen guns, we should win a great victory. this treacherous conduct, after his promise to forward me without delay to shooa, enraged me exceedingly. we had lost the boats at gondokoro, and we were now nailed to the country for another year, should we live, which was not likely. not only had the brutal king thus deceived us, but he was deliberately starving us into conditions, his aim being that my men should assist him against his enemy. at one time the old enemy tempted me sorely to join fowooka against kamrasi; but, discarding the idea, generated in a moment of passion, i determined to resist his proposals to the last. it was perfectly true that the king was within thirty miles of us, that he was aware of our misery, and made use of our extremity to force us to become his allies. after more than two months passed in this distress it became evident that something must be done. i sent my headman, or vakeel, and one man, with a native as a guide (that saat and bacheeta had procured from an island), with instructions to go direct to kamrasi, to abuse him thoroughly in my name for having thus treated us, and tell him that i was much insulted at his treating with me through a third party in proposing an alliance. my vakeel was to explain that i was a much more powerful chief than kamrasi, and that if he required my alliance, he must treat with me in person, and immediately send fifty men to transport my wife, myself, and effects to his camp, where we might, in a personal interview, come to terms. i told my vakeel to return to me with the fifty men, and to be sure to bring from kamrasi some token by which i should know that he had actually seen him. the vakeel and yaseen started. after some days the absconded guide, rabonga, appeared with a number of men, but without either my vakeel or yaseen. he carried with him a small gourd bottle, carefully stopped; this he broke, and extracted from the inside two pieces of printed paper that kamrasi had sent to me in reply. on examining the papers, i found them to be portions of the english church service translated into (i think) the "kisuabili" language, by dr krapf! there were many notes in pencil on the margin, written in english, as translations of words in the text. it quickly occurred to me that speke must have given this book to kamrasi on his arrival from zanzibar, and that he now extracted the leaves and sent them to me as a token i had demanded to show that my message had been delivered to him. rabonga made a lame excuse for his previous desertion. he delivered a thin ox that kamrasi had sent me, and he declared that his orders were that he should take my whole party immediately to kamrasi, as he was anxious that we should attack fowooka without loss of time. we were positively to start on the following morning! my bait had taken, and we should escape from this frightful spot, shooa moru. after winding through dense jungles of bamboos and interminable groves of destroyed plantains, we perceived the tops of a number of grass hats appearing among the trees. my men now begged to be allowed to fire a salute, as it was reported that the ten men of ibrahim's party who had been left as hostages were quartered at this village with kamrasi. hardly had the firing commenced when it was immediately replied to by the turks from their camp, who, upon our approach, came out to meet us with great manifestations of delight and wonder at our having accomplished our long and difficult voyage. my vakeel and yaseen were the first to meet us, with an apology that severe fever had compelled them to remain in camp instead of returning to shooa moru according to my orders; but they had delivered my message to kamrasi, who had, as i had supposed, sent two leaves out of a book speke had given him, as a reply. an immense amount of news had to be exchanged between my men and those of ibrahim. they had quite given us up for lost, until they heard that we were at shooa moru. a report had reached them that my wife was dead, and that i had died a few days later. a great amount of kissing and embracing took place, arab fashion, between the two parties; and they all came to kiss my hand and that of my wife, with the exclamation, that "by allah, no woman in the world had a heart so tough as to dare to face what she had gone through." "el hamd el illah! el hamd el illah bel salaam!" ("thank god--be grateful to god") was exclaimed on all sides by the swarthy throng of brigands who pressed round us, really glad to welcome us back again; and i could not help thinking of the difference in their manner now and fourteen months before, when they had attempted to drive us back from gondokoro. hardly were we seated in our hut when my vakeel announced that kamrasi had arrived to pay me a visit. in a few minutes he was ushered into the hut. far from being abashed, he entered with a loud laugh, totally different from his former dignified manner. "well, here you are at last!" he exclaimed. apparently highly amused with our wretched appearance, he continued, "so you have been to the m'wootan n'zige! well, you don't look much the better for it; why, i should not have known you! ha, ha, ha!" i was not in a humor to enjoy his attempts at facetiousness; i therefore told him that he had behaved disgracefully and meanly, and that i should publish his character among the adjoining tribes as below that of the most petty chief that i had ever seen. "never mind," he replied, "it's all over now. you really are thin, both of you. it was your own fault; why did you not agree to fight fowooka? you should have been supplied with fat cows and milk and butter, had you behaved well. i will have my men ready to attack fowooka to-morrow. the turks have ten men, you have thirteen; thirteen and ten make twenty-three. you shall be carried if you can't walk, and we will give fowooka no chance. he must be killed--only kill him, and my brother will give you half of his kingdom." he continued, "you shall have supplies to-morrow; i will go to my brother, who is the great m'kamma kamrasi, and he will send you all you require. i am a little man; he is a big one. i have nothing; he has everything, and he longs to see you. you must go to him directly; he lives close by." i hardly knew whether he was drunk or sober. "my bother the great m'kamma kamrasi!" i felt bewildered with astonishment. then, "if you are not kamrasi, pray who are you?" i asked. "who am i?" he replied. "ha, ha, ha! that's very good; who am i?--i am m'gambi, the brother of kamrasi; i am the younger brother, but he is the king." the deceit of this country was incredible. i had positively never seen the real kamrasi up to this moment, and this man m'gambi now confessed to having impersonated the king, his brother, as kamrasi was afraid that i might be in league with debono's people to murder him, and therefore he had ordered his brother m'gambi to act the king. i told m'gambi that i did not wish to see his brother, the king, as i should perhaps be again deceived and be introduced to some impostor like himself; and that as i did not choose to be made a fool of, i should decline the introduction. this distressed him exceedingly. he said that the king was really so great a man that he, his own brother, dared not sit on a stool in his presence, and that he had only kept in retirement as a matter of precaution, as debono's people had allied themselves with his enemy rionga in the preceding year, and he dreaded treachery. i laughed contemptuously at m'gambi, telling him that if a woman like my wife dared to trust herself far from her own country among such savages as kamrasi's people, their king must be weaker than a woman if he dared not show himself in his own territory. i concluded by saying that i should not go to see kamrasi, but that he should come to visit me. on the following morning, after my arrival at kisoona, m'gambi appeared, beseeching me to go and visit the king. i replied that "i was hungry and weak from want of food, and that i wanted to see meat, and not the man who had starved me." in the afternoon a beautiful cow appeared with her young calf, also a fat sheep and two pots of plantain cider, as a present from kamrasi. that evening we revelled in milk, a luxury that we had not tasted for some months. the cow gave such a quantity that we looked forward to the establishment of a dairy, and already contemplated cheese-making. i sent the king a present of a pound of powder in canister, a box of caps, and a variety of trifles, explaining that i was quite out of stores and presents, as i had been kept so long in his country that i was reduced to beggary, as i had expected to return to my own country long before this. in the evening m'gambi appeared with a message from the king, saying that i was his greatest friend, and that he would not think of taking anything from me as he was sure that i must be hard up; that he desired nothing, but would be much obliged if i would give him the "little double rifle that i always carried, and my watch and compass!" he wanted "nothing," only my fletcher rifle, that i would as soon have parted with as the bone of my arm; and these three articles were the same for which i had been so pertinaciously bored before my departure from m'rooli. it was of no use to be wroth, i therefore quietly replied that i should not give them, as kamrasi had failed in his promise to forward me to shooa; but that i required no presents from him, as he always expected a thousandfold in return. m'gambi said that all would be right if i would only agree to pay the king a visit. i objected to this, as i told him the king, his brother, did not want to see me, but only to observe what i had, in order to beg for all that he saw. he appeared much hurt, and assured me that he would be himself responsible that nothing of the kind should happen, and that he merely begged as a favor that i would visit the king on the following morning, and that people should be ready to carry me if i were unable to walk. accordingly i arranged to be carried to kamrasi's camp at about a.m. at the hour appointed m'gambi appeared, with a great crowd of natives. my clothes were in rags, and as personal appearance has a certain effect, even in central africa, i determined to present myself to the king in as favorable a light as possible. i happened to possess a full-dress highland suit that i had worn when i lived in perthshire many years before. this i had treasured as serviceable upon an occasion like the present: accordingly i was quickly attired in kilt, sporran, and glengarry bonnet, and to the utter amazement of the crowd, the ragged-looking object that had arrived in kisoona now issued from the obscure hut with plaid and kilt of athole tartan. a general shout of exclamation arose from the assembled crowd, and taking my seat upon an angarep, i was immediately shouldered by a number of men, and, attended by ten of my people as escort, i was carried toward the camp of the great kamrasi. in about half an hour we arrived. the camp, composed of grass huts, extended over a large extent of ground, and the approach was perfectly black with the throng that crowded to meet me. women, children, dogs, and men all thronged at the entrance of the street that led to kamrasi's residence. pushing our way through this inquisitive multitude, we continued through the camp until at length we reached the dwelling of the king. halting for the moment, a message was immediately received that we should proceed; we accordingly entered through a narrow passage between high reed fences, and i found myself in the presence of the actual king of unyoro, kamrasi. he was sitting in a kind of porch in front of a hut, and upon seeing me he hardly condescended to look at me for more than a moment; he then turned to his attendants and made some remark that appeared to amuse them, as they all grinned as little men are wont to do when a great man makes a bad joke. i had ordered one of my men to carry my stool; i was determined not to sit upon the earth, as the king would glory in my humiliation. m'gambi, his brother, who had formerly played the part of king, now sat upon the ground a few feet from kamrasi, who was seated upon the same stool of copper that m'gambi had used when i first saw him at m'rooli. several of his chiefs also sat upon the straw with which the porch was littered. i made a "salaam" and took my seat upon my stool. not a word passed between us for about five minutes, during which time the king eyed me most attentively, and made various remarks to the chiefs who were present. at length he asked me why i had not been to see him before. i replied, because i had been starved in his country, and i was too weak to walk. he said i should soon be strong, as he would now give me a good supply of food; but that he could not send provisions to shooa moru, as fowooka held that country. without replying to this wretched excuse for his neglect, i merely told him that i was happy to have seen him before my departure, as i was not aware until recently that i had been duped by m'gambi. he answered me very coolly, saying that although i had not seen him, he had nevertheless seen me, as he was among the crowd of native escort on the day that we left m'rooli. thus he had watched our start at the very place where his brother m'gambi had impersonated the king. kamrasi was a remarkably fine man, tall and well proportioned, with a handsome face of a dark brown color, but a peculiarly sinister expression. he was beautifully clean, and instead of wearing the bark cloth common among the people, he was dressed in a fine mantle of black and white goatskins, as soft as chamois leather. his people sat on the ground at some distance from his throne; when they approached to address him on any subject they crawled upon their hands and knees to his feet, and touched the ground with their foreheads. true to his natural instincts, the king commenced begging, and being much struck with the highland costume, he demanded it as a proof of friendship, saying that if i refused i could not be his friend. the watch, compass, and double fletcher rifle were asked for in their turn, all of which i refused to give him. he appeared much annoyed, therefore i presented him with a pound canister of powder, a box of caps, and a few bullets. he asked, "what's the use of the ammunition if you won't give me your rifle?" i explained that i had already given him a gun, and that he had a rifle of speke's. disgusted with his importunity i rose to depart, telling him that i should not return to visit him, as i did not believe he was the real kamrasi i had heard that kamrasi was a great king, but he was a mere beggar, and was doubtless an impostor, like m'gambi. at this he seemed highly amused, and begged me not to leave so suddenly, as he could not permit me to depart empty-handed. he then gave certain orders to his people, and after a little delay two loads of flour arrived, together with a goat and two jars of sour plantain cider. these presents he ordered to be forwarded to kisoona. i rose to take leave; but the crowd, eager to see what was going forward, pressed closely upon the entrance of the approach, seeing which, the king gave certain orders, and immediately four or five men with long heavy bludgeons rushed at the mob and belabored them right and left, putting the mass to flight pell-mell through the narrow lanes of the camp. i was then carried back to my camp at kisoona, where i was received by a great crowd of people. chapter xxiii. the hour of deliverance--triumphal entry into gondokoro--home-bound--the plague breaks out--our welcome at khartoum to civilization. the hour of deliverance from our long sojourn in central africa was at hand. it was the month of february, and the boats would be at gondokoro. the turks had packed their ivory; the large tusks were fastened to poles to be carried by two men, and the camp was a perfect mass of this valuable material. i counted loads of upward of lbs. each; thirty-one loads were lying at an out-station; therefore the total results of the ivory campaign during the last twelve months were about , lbs., equal to about , pounds sterling when delivered in egypt. this was a perfect fortune for koorshid. we were ready to start. my baggage was so unimportant that i was prepared to forsake everything, and to march straight for gondokoro independently with my own men; but this the turks assured me was impracticable, as the country was so hostile in advance that we must of necessity have some fighting on the road; the bari tribe would dispute our right to pass through their territory. the day arrived for our departure; the oxen were saddled, and we were ready to start. crowds of people cane to say "good-by;" but, dispensing with the hand-kissing of the turks who were to remain in camp, we prepared for our journey toward home. far away though it was, every step would bring us nearer. nevertheless there were ties even in this wild spot, where all was savage and unfeeling--ties that were painful to sever, and that caused a sincere regret to both of us when we saw our little flock of unfortunate slave children crying at the idea of separation. in this moral desert, where all humanized feelings were withered and parched like the sands of the soudan, the guilelessness of the children had been welcomed like springs of water, as the only refreshing feature in a land of sin and darkness. "where are you going?" cried poor little abbai in the broken arabic that we had taught him. "take me with you, sitty!" (lady), and he followed us down the path, as we regretfully left our proteges, with his fists tucked into his eyes, weeping from his heart, although for his own mother he had not shed a tear. we could not take him with us; he belonged to ibrahim, and had i purchased the child to rescue him from his hard lot and to rear him as a civilized being, i might have been charged with slave-dealing. with heavy hearts we saw hint taken up in the arms of a woman and carried back to camp, to prevent him from following our party, that had now started. i will not detain the reader with the details of our journey home. after much toil and some fighting with hostile natives, we bivouacked one sunset three miles from gondokoro. that night we were full of speculations. would a boat be waiting for us with supplies and letters? the morning anxiously looked forward to at length arrived. we started. the english flag had been mounted on a fine straight bamboo with a new lance-head specially arranged for the arrival at gondokoro. my men felt proud, as they would march in as conquerors. according to white nile ideas, such a journey could not have been accomplished with so small a party. long before ibrahim's men were ready to start, our oxen were saddled and we were off, longing to hasten into gondokoro and to find a comfortable vessel with a few luxuries and the post from england. never had the oxen travelled so fast as on that morning; the flag led the way, and the men, in excellent spirits, followed at double-quick pace. "i see the masts of the vessels!" exclaimed the boy saat. "el hambd el illah!" (thank god! ) shouted the men. "hurrah!" said i; "three cheers for old england and the sources of the nile! hurrah!" and my men joined me in the wild, and to their ears savage, english yell. "now for a salute! fire away all your powder, if you like, my lads, and let the people know that we're alive!" this was all that was required to complete the happiness of my people, and, loading and firing as fast as possible, we approached near to gondokoro. presently we saw the turkish flag emerge from gondokoro at about a quarter of a mile distant, followed by a number of the traders' people, who waited to receive us. on our arrival they immediately approached and fired salutes with ball cartridge, as usual advancing close to us and discharging their guns into the ground at our feet. one of my servants, mahomet, was riding an ox, and an old friend of his in the crowd happening to recognize him immediately advanced and saluted him by firing his gun into the earth directly beneath the belly of the ox he was riding. the effect produced made the crowd and ourselves explode with laughter. the nervous ox, terrified at the sudden discharge between his legs, gave a tremendous kick, and continued madly kicking and plunging, until mahomet was pitched over his head and lay sprawling on the ground. this scene terminated the expedition. dismounting from our tired oxen, our first inquiry was concerning boats and letters. what was the reply? neither boats, letters, supplies, nor any intelligence of friends or the civilized world! we had long since been given up as dead by the inhabitants of khartoum, and by all those who understood the difficulties and dangers of the country. we were told that some people had suggested that we might possibly have gone to zanzibar, but the general opinion was that we had all been killed. at this cold and barren reply i felt almost choked. we had looked forward to arriving at gondokoro as to a home; we had expected that a boat would have been sent on the chance of finding us, as i had left money in the hands of an agent in khartoum; but there was literally nothing to receive us, and we were helpless to return. we had worked for years in misery, such as i have but faintly described, to overcome the difficulties of this hitherto unconquerable exploration. we had succeeded--and what was the result? not even a letter from home to welcome us if alive! as i sat beneath a tree and looked down upon the glorious nile that flowed a few yards beneath my feet, i pondered upon the value of my toil. i had traced the river to its great albert source, and as the mighty stream glided before me, the mystery that had ever shrouded its origin was dissolved. i no longer looked upon its waters with a feeling approaching to awe, for i knew its home, and had visited its cradle. had i overrated the importance of the discovery? and had i wasted some of the best years of my life to obtain a shadow? i recalled to recollection the practical question of commoro, the chief of latooka, "suppose you get to the great lake, what will you do with it? what will be the good of it? if you find that the large river does flow from it, what then?" at length the happy day came when we were to quit this miserable place of gondokoro. the boat was ready to start, we were all on board, and ibrahim and his people came to say good-by. crowds lined the cliff and the high ground by the old ruins of the mission-station to see us depart. we pushed off from shore into the powerful current; the english flag, that had accompanied us all through our wanderings, now fluttered proudly from the masthead unsullied by defeat, and amidst the rattle of musketry we glided rapidly down the river and soon lost sight of gondokoro. what were our feelings at that moment? overflowing with gratitude to a divine providence that had supported us in sickness and guided us through all dangers. there had been moments of hopelessness and despair; days of misery, when the future had appeared dark and fatal; but we had been strengthened in our weakness, and led, when apparently lost, by an unseen hand. i felt no triumph, but with a feeling of calm contentment and satisfaction we floated down the nile. my great joy was in the meeting that i contemplated with speke in england, as i had so thoroughly completed the task we had agreed upon. we had heard at gondokoro of a remarkable obstruction in the white nile a short distance below the junction of the bahr el gazal. we found this to be a dam formed by floating masses of vegetation that effectually blocked the passage. the river had suddenly disappeared; there was apparently an end to the white nile. the dam was about three-quarters of a mile wide, was perfectly firm, and was already overgrown with high reeds and grass, thus forming a continuation of the surrounding country. many of the traders' people had died of the plague at this spot during the delay of some weeks in cutting the canal; the graves of these dead were upon the dam. the bottom of the canal that had been cut through the dam was perfectly firm, composed of sand, mud, and interwoven decaying vegetation. the river arrived with great force at the abrupt edge of the obstruction, bringing with it all kinds of trash and large floating islands. none of these objects hitched against the edge, but the instant they struck they dived under and disappeared. it was in this manner that a vessel had recently been lost. having missed the narrow entrance to the canal, she had struck the dam stem on; the force of the current immediately turned her broadside against the obstruction, the floating islands and masses of vegetation brought down by the river were heaped against her and, heeling over on her side, she was sucked bodily under and carried beneath the dam. her crew had time to save themselves by leaping upon the firm barrier that had wrecked their ship. the boatmen told me that dead hippopotami had been found on the other side, that had been carried under the dam and drowned. two days' hard work from morning till night brought us through the canal, and we once more found ourselves on the open nile on the other side of the dam. the river was in that spot perfectly clean; not a vestige of floating vegetation could be seen upon its waters. in its subterranean passage it had passed through a natural sieve, leaving all foreign matter behind to add to the bulk of the already stupendous work. all before us was clear and plain sailing. for some days two or three of our men had been complaining of severe headache, giddiness, and violent pains in the spine and between the shoulders. i had been anxious when at gondokoro concerning the vessel, as many persons while on board had died of the plague, during the voyage from khartoum. the men assured me that the most fatal symptom was violent bleeding from the nose; in such cases no one had been known to recover. one of the boatmen, who had been ailing for some days, suddenly went to the side of the vessel and hung his head over the river; his nose was bleeding! another of my men, yaseen, was ill; his uncle, my vakeel, came to me with a report that "his nose was bleeding violently!" several other men fell ill; they lay helplessly about the deck in low muttering delirium, their eyes as yellow as orange-peel. in two or three days the vessel was so horribly offensive as to be unbearable. the plague had broken out! we floated past the river sobat junction; the wind was fair from the south, thus fortunately we in the stern were to windward of the crew. yaseen died; he was one who had bled at the nose. we stopped to bury him. the funeral hastily arranged, we again set sail. mahommed died; he had bled at the nose. another burial. once more we set sail and hurried down the nile. several men were ill, but the dreaded symptom had not appeared. i had given each man a strong dose of calomel at the commencement of the disease; i could do nothing more, as my medicines were exhausted. all night we could hear the sick muttering and raving in delirium, but from years of association with disagreeables we had no fear of the infection. one morning the boy saat came to me with his head bound up, and complained of severe pain in the back and limbs, with all the usual symptoms of plague. in the afternoon i saw him leaning over the ship's side; his nose was bleeding violently! at night he was delirious. on the following morning he was raving, and on the vessel stopping to collect firewood he threw himself into the river to cool the burning fever that consumed him. his eyes were suffused with blood, which, blended with a yellow as deep as the yolk of egg, gave a terrible appearance to his face, that was already so drawn and changed as to be hardly recognized. poor saat! the faithful boy that we had adopted, and who had formed so bright an exception to the dark character of his race, was now a victim to this horrible disease. he was a fine strong lad of nearly fifteen, and he now lay helplessly on his mat, and cast wistful glances at the face of his mistress as she gave him a cup of cold water mixed with a few lumps of sugar that we had obtained from the traders at gondokoro. saat grew worse and worse. nothing would relieve the unfortunate boy from the burning torture of that frightful disease. he never slept; but night and day he muttered in delirium, breaking the monotony of his malady by occasionally howling like a wild animal. richarn won my heart by his careful nursing of the boy, who had been his companion through years of hardship. we arrived at the village of wat shely, only three days from khartoum. saat was dying. the night passed, and i expected that all would be over before sunrise; but as morning dawned a change had taken place; the burning fever had left him, and, although raised blotches had broken out upon his chest and various parts of his body, he appeared much better. we now gave him stimulants; a teaspoonful of araki that we had bought at fashooder was administered every ten minutes on a lump of sugar. this he crunched in his mouth, while he gazed at my wife with an expression of affection; but he could not speak. i had him well washed and dressed in clean clothes, that had been kept most carefully during the voyage, to be worn on our entree to khartoum. he was laid down to sleep upon a clean mat, and my wife gave him a lump of sugar to moisten his mouth and relieve his thickly-furred tongue. his pulse was very weak, and his skin cold. "poor saat," said my wife, "his life hangs upon a thread. we must nurse him most carefully; should he have a relapse, nothing will save him." an hour passed, and he slept. karka, the fat, good-natured slave woman, quietly went to his side; gently taking him by the ankles and knees, she stretched his legs into a straight position, and laid his arms parallel with his sides. she then covered his face with a cloth, one of the few rags that we still possessed. "does he sleep still?" we asked. the tears ran down the cheeks of the savage but good-hearted karka as she sobbed, "he is dead!" we stopped the boat. it was a sandy shore; the banks were high, and a clump of mimosas grew above high-water mark. it was there that we dug his grave. my men worked silently and sadly, for all loved saat. he had been so good and true, that even their hard hearts had learned to respect his honesty. we laid him in his grave on the desert shore, beneath the grove of trees. again the sail was set, and, filled by the breeze, it carried us away from the dreary spot where we had sorrowfully left all that was good and faithful. it was a happy end--most merciful, as he had been taken from a land of iniquity in all the purity of a child converted from paganism to christianity. he had lived and died in our service a good christian. our voyage was nearly over, and we looked forward to home and friends; but we had still fatigues before us: poor saat had reached his home and rest. on the following morning, may , , we were welcomed by the entire european population of khartoum, to whom are due my warmest thanks for many kind attentions. we were kindly offered a house by monsieur lombrosio, the manager of the khartoum branch of the "oriental and egyptian trading company." i now heard the distressing news of the death of my poor friend speke. i could not realize the truth of this melancholy report until i read the details of his fatal accident in the appendix of a french translation of his work. it was but a sad consolation that i could confirm his discoveries, and bear witness to the tenacity and perseverance with which he had led his party through the untrodden path of africa to the first nile source. while at khartoum i happened to find mahommed iler! the vakeel of chenooda's party, who had instigated my men to mutiny at latooka, and had taken my deserters into his employ. i had promised to make an example of this fellow; i therefore had him arrested and brought before the divan. with extreme effrontery, he denied having had anything to do with the affair. having a crowd of witnesses in my own men, and others that i had found in khartoum who had belonged to koorshid's party at that time, his barefaced lie was exposed, and he was convicted. i determined that he should be punished, as an example that would insure respect to any future english traveller in those regions. my men, and all those with whom i had been connected, had been accustomed to rely most implicitly upon all that i had promised, and the punishment of this man had been an expressed determination. i went to the divan and demanded that he should be flogged. omer bey was then governor of the soudan, in the place of moosa pacha deceased. he sat upon the divan, in the large hall of justice by the river. motioning me to take a seat by his side, and handing me his pipe, he called the officer in waiting, and gave the necessary orders. in a few minutes the prisoner was led into the hall, attended by eight soldiers. one man carried a strong pole about seven feet long, in the centre of which was a double chain, riveted through in a loop. the prisoner was immediately thrown down with his face to the ground, while two men stretched out his arms and sat upon them. his feet were then placed within the loop of the chain, and the pole being twisted round until firmly secured, it was raised from the ground sufficiently to expose the soles of the feet. two men with powerful hippopotamus whips stood one on either side. the prisoner thus secured, the order was given. the whips were most scientifically applied, and after the first five dozen the slave-hunting scoundrel howled most lustily for mercy. how often had he flogged unfortunate slave women to excess, and what murders had that wretch committed, who now howled for mercy! i begged omer bey to stop the punishment at lashes, and to explain to him publicly in the divan that he was thus punished for attempting to thwart the expedition of an english traveller, by instigating my escort to mutiny. we stayed at khartoum two months, waiting for the nile to rise sufficiently to allow the passage of the cataracts. we started june th, and reached berber, from which point, four years before, i had set out on my atbara expedition. i determined upon the red sea route to egypt, instead of passing the horrible korosko desert during the hot month of august. after some delay i procured camels, and started east for souakim, where i hoped to procure a steamer to suez. there was no steamer upon our arrival. after waiting in intense heat for about a fortnight, the egyptian thirty-two-gun steam frigate ibrahimeya arrived with a regiment of egyptian troops, under giaffer pacha, to quell the mutiny of the black troops at kassala, twenty days' march in the interior. giaffer pacha most kindly placed the frigate at our disposal to convey us to suez. orders for sailing had been received; but suddenly a steamer was signalled as arriving. this was a transport, with troops. as she was to return immediately to suez, i preferred the dirty transport rather than incur a further delay. we started from souakim, and after five days' voyage we arrived at suez. landing from the steamer, i once more found myself in an english hotel. the hotel was thronged with passengers to india, with rosy, blooming english ladies and crowds of my own countrymen. i felt inclined to talk to everybody. never was i so in love with my own countrymen and women; but they (i mean the ladies) all had large balls of hair at the backs of their heads! what an extraordinary change! i called richarn, my pet savage from the heart of africa, to admire them. "now, richarn, look at them!" i said. "what do you think of the english ladies? eh, richarn? are they not lovely?" "wah illahi!" exclaimed the astonished richarn, "they are beautiful! what hair! they are not like the negro savages, who work other people's hair into their own heads; theirs is all real--all their own--how beautiful!" "yes, richarn," i replied, "all their own!" this was my first introduction to the "chignon." we arrived at cairo, and i established richarn and his wife in a comfortable situation as private servants to mr. zech, the master of sheppard's hotel. the character i gave him was one that i trust has done him service. he had shown an extraordinary amount of moral courage in totally reforming from his original habit of drinking. i left my old servant with a heart too full to say good-by, a warm squeeze of his rough but honest black hand, and the whistle of the train sounded--we were off! i had left richarn, and none remained of my people. the past appeared like a dream; the rushing sound of the train renewed ideas of civilization. had i really come from the nile sources? it was no dream. a witness sat before me--a face still young, but bronzed like an arab by years of exposure to a burning sun, haggard and worn with toil and sickness, and shaded with cares happily now past, the devoted companion of my pilgrimage, to whom i owed success and life--my wife. i had received letters from england, that had been waiting at the british consulate. the first i opened informed me that the royal geographical society had awarded me the victoria gold medal, at a time when they were unaware whether i was alive or dead, and when the success of my expedition was unknown. this appreciation of my exertions was the warmest welcome that i could have received on my first entrance into civilization after so many years of savagedom. it rendered the completion of the nile sources doubly grateful, as i had fulfilled the expectations that the geographical society had so generously expressed by the presentation of their medal before my task was done. blue lights, by r.m. ballantyne. chapter one. hot work in the soudan. the false step. there is a dividing ridge in the great northern wilderness of america, whereon lies a lakelet of not more than twenty yards in diameter. it is of crystal clearness and profound depth, and on the still evenings of the indian summer its surface forms a perfect mirror, which might serve as a toilet-glass for a redskin princess. we have stood by the side of that lakelet and failed to note the slightest symptom of motion in it, yet somewhere in its centre there was going on a constant and mysterious division of watery particles, and those of them which glided imperceptibly to the right flowed southward to the atlantic, while those that trembled to the left found a resting-place by the frozen shores of hudson's bay. as it is with the flow and final exit of those waters, so is it, sometimes, if not always, with the spirit and destiny of man. miles milton, our hero, at the age of nineteen, stood at the dividing ridge of his life. if the oscillating spirit, trembling between right and wrong, had decided to lean to the right, what might have been his fate no one can tell. he paused on the balance a short time, then he leaned over to the left, and what his fate was it is the purpose of this volume to disclose. at the outset, we may remark that it was not unmixed good. neither was it unmitigated evil. miles had a strong body, a strong will, and a somewhat passionate temper: a compound which is closely allied to dynamite! his father, unfortunately, was composed of much the same materials. the consequences were sometimes explosive. it might have profited the son much had he studied the scripture lesson, "children, obey your parents in the lord." not less might it have benefited the father to have pondered the words, "fathers, provoke not your children to wrath." young milton had set his heart on going into the army. old milton had resolved to thwart the desire of his son. the mother milton, a meek and loving soul, experienced some hard times between the two. both loved _her_ intensely, and each loved himself, not better perhaps, but too much! it is a sad task to have to recount the disputes between a father and a son. we shrink from it and turn away. suffice it to say that one day miles and his father had a vesuvian meeting on the subject of the army. the son became petulant and unreasonable; the father fierce and tyrannical. the end was that they parted in anger. "go, sir," cried the father sternly; "when you are in a better frame of mind you may return." "yes, father, i will go," cried the son, starting up, "and i will _never_ return." poor youth! he was both right and wrong in this prophetic speech. he did return home, but he did not return to his father. with fevered pulse and throbbing heart he rushed into a plantation that lay at the back of his father's house. he had no definite intention save to relieve his feelings by violent action. running at full speed, he came suddenly to a disused quarry that was full of water. it had long been a familiar haunt as a bathing-pool. many a time in years past had he leaped off its precipitous margin into the deep water, and wantoned there in all the abandonment of exuberant youth. the leap was about thirty feet, the depth of water probably greater. constant practice had rendered miles so expert at diving and swimming that he had come to feel as much at home in the water as a new-zealander. casting off his garments, he took the accustomed plunge by way of cooling his heart and brain. he came up from the depths refreshed, but not restored to equanimity. while dressing, the sense of injustice returned as strongly as before, and, with it, the hot indignation, so that, on afterwards reaching the highway, he paused only for a few moments. this was the critical point. slowly but decidedly he leaned to the left. he turned his back on his father's house, and caused the stones to spurt from under his heels as he walked rapidly away. if miles milton had thought of his mother at that time he might have escaped many a day of bitter repentance, for she was as gentle as her husband was harsh; but the angry youth either forgot her at the moment, or, more probably, thrust the thought of her away. poor mother! if she had only known what a conflict between good and evil was going on in the breast of her boy, how she would have agonised in prayer for him! but she did not know. there was, however, one who did know, who loved him better even than his mother, and who watched and guarded him throughout all his chequered career. it is not improbable that in spite of his resolves miles would have relented before night and returned home had not a very singular incident intervened and closed the door behind him. that day a notorious swindler had been tracked by a red-haired detective to the manufacturing city, to which miles first directed his steps. the bills describing the swindler set forth that he was quite young, tall, handsome, broad-shouldered, with black curling hair, and a budding moustache; that he was dressed in grey tweeds, and had a prepossessing manner. now this chanced to be in some respects an exact description of miles milton! the budding moustache, to be sure, was barely discernible, still it was sufficiently so for a detective to found on. his dress, too, was brown tweed, not grey; but of course dresses can be changed; and as to his manner, there could not be two opinions about that. now it chanced to be past one o'clock when miles entered the town and felt himself impelled by familiar sensations to pause in front of an eating-house. it was a poor eating-house in a low district, but miles was not particular; still further, it was a temperance coffee-house, but miles cared nothing for strong drink. strong health and spirits had served his purpose admirably up to that date. inside the eating-house there sat several men of the artisan class, and a few of the nondescript variety. among the latter was the red-haired detective. he was engaged with a solid beef-steak. "oho!" escaped softly from his lips, when his sharp eyes caught sight of our hero. so softly did he utter the exclamation that it might have been a mere remark of appreciation addressed to the steak, from which he did not again raise his eyes for a considerable time. the place was very full of people--so full that there seemed scarcely room for another guest; but by some almost imperceptible motion the red-haired man made a little space close to himself. the man next to him, with a hook-nose, widened the space by similar action, and miles, perceiving that there was room, sat down. "bread and cheese," he said to the waiter. "bread an' cheese, sir? yessir." miles was soon actively engaged in mechanically feeding, while his mind was busy as to future plans. presently he became aware that the men on either side of him were scanning his features and person with peculiar attention. "coldish weather," remarked the red-haired man, looking at him in a friendly way. "it is," replied miles, civilly enough. "rather cold for bathin', ain't it, sir?" continued the detective carelessly, picking his teeth with a quill. "how did you know that i've been bathing?" demanded miles in surprise. "i didn't know it." "how did you guess it then?" "vell, it ain't difficult to guess that a young feller 'as bin 'avin' a swim w'en you see the 'air of 'is 'ead hall vet, an' 'is pocket-'ankercher lookin' as if it 'ad done dooty for a towel, not to mention 'is veskit 'avin' bin putt on in a 'urry, so as the buttons ain't got into the right 'oles, you see!" miles laughed, and resumed his bread and cheese. "you are observant, i perceive," he said. "not wery partiklarly so," returned redhair; "but i do obsarve that your boots tell of country roads. was it a long way hout of town as you was bathin' this forenoon, now?" there was a free and easy familiarity about the man's tone which miles resented, but, not wishing to run the risk of a disagreement in such company, he answered quietly--"yes, a considerable distance; it was in an old quarry where i often bathe, close to my father's house." "ha! jest so, about 'alf-way to the willage of ramplin', w'ere you slep' last night, if report speaks true, an' w'ere you left the _grey tweeds_, unless, p'r'aps, you sunk 'em in the old quarry." "why, what on earth do you mean?" asked miles, with a look of such genuine surprise that redhair was puzzled, and the man with the hooked nose, who had been listening attentively, looked slightly confused. "read that, sir," said the detective, extracting a newspaper cutting from his pocket and laying it on the table before miles. while he read, the two men watched him with interest, so did some of those who sat near, for they began to perceive that something was "in the wind." the tell-tale blood sprang to the youth's brow as he read and perceived the meaning of the man's remarks. at this redhair and hook-nose nodded to each other significantly. "you don't mean to say," exclaimed miles, in a tone of grand indignation which confirmed the men in their suspicion, "that you think this description applies to _me_?" "i wouldn't insinivate too much, sir, though i have got my suspicions," said redhair blandly; "but of course that's easy settled, for if your father's 'ouse is anyw'ere hereabouts, your father won't object to identify his son." "ridiculous!" exclaimed miles, rising angrily at this interruption to his plans. the two men rose promptly at the same moment. "of course my father will prove that you have made a mistake, but--" he hesitated in some confusion, for the idea of re-appearing before his father so soon, and in such company, after so stoutly asserting that he would _never_ more return, was humiliating. the detective observed the hesitation and became jocose. "if you'd rather not trouble your parent," said redhair, "you've got no call to do it. the station ain't far off, and the sooner we get there the better for all parties." a slight clink of metal at this point made miles aware of the fact that hook-nose was drawing a pair of handcuffs from one of his pockets. the full significance of his position suddenly burst upon him. the thought of being led home a prisoner, or conveyed to the police-station handcuffed, maddened him; and the idea of being thus unjustly checked at the very outset of his independent career made him furious. for a few moments he stood so perfectly still and quiet that the detectives were thrown slightly off their guard. then there was an explosion of some sort within the breast of miles milton. it expended itself in a sudden impulse, which sent redhead flat on the table among the crockery, and drove hook-nose into the fireplace among the fire-irons. a fat little man chanced to be standing in the door-way. the same impulse, modified, shot that little man into the street like a cork out of a bottle, and next moment miles was flying along the pavement at racing speed, horrified at what he had done, but utterly reckless as to what might follow! hearing the shouts of pursuers behind him, and being incommoded by passers-by in the crowded thoroughfare, miles turned sharply into a by-street, and would have easily made his escape--being uncommonly swift of foot--had he not been observed by an active little man of supple frame and presumptuous tendencies. unlike the mass of mankind around him--who stared and wondered--the active little man took in the situation at a glance, joined in the pursuit, kept well up, thus forming a sort of connecting-link between the fugitive and pursuers, and even took upon himself to shout "stop thief!" as he ran. miles endeavoured to throw him off by putting on, as schoolboys have it, "a spurt." but the active little man also spurted and did not fall far behind. then miles tried a second double, and got into a narrow street, which a single glance showed him was a blind alley! disappointment and anger hereupon took possession of him, and he turned at bay with the tiger-like resolve to run a-muck! fortunately for himself he observed a pot of whitewash standing near a half-whitened wall, with a dirty canvas frock and a soiled billycock lying beside it. the owner of the property had left it inopportunely, for, quick as thought, miles wriggled into the frock, flung on the billycock, seized the pot, and walked in a leisurely way to the head of the alley. he reached it just as the active little man turned into it, at the rate of ten miles an hour. a yell of "stop thief!" issued from the man's presumptuous lips at the moment. his injunction was obeyed to the letter, for the would-be thief of an honest man's character on insufficient evidence was stopped by miles's bulky person so violently that the whitewash was scattered all about, and part of it went into the active man's eyes. to squash the large brush into the little man's face, and thus effectually complete what his own recklessness had begun, was the work of an instant. as he did it, miles assumed the role of the injured party, suiting his language to his condition. "what d'ee mean by that, you houtrageous willain?" he cried savagely, to the great amusement of the bystanders, who instantly formed a crowd round them. "look wot a mess you've bin an' made o' my clean frock! don't you see?" the poor little man could not see. he could only cough and gasp and wipe his face with his coat-tails. "i'd give you in charge o' the pleece, i would, if it wasn't that you've pretty well punished yourself a'ready," continued miles. "take 'im to a pump some o' you, 'cause i ain't got time. good-day, spider-legs, an' don't go for to run into a hartist again, with a paint-pot in 'is 'and." so saying, miles pushed through the laughing crowd and sauntered away. he turned into the first street he came to, and then went forward as fast as was consistent with the idea of an artisan in a hurry. being utterly ignorant of the particular locality into which he had penetrated--though well enough acquainted with the main thoroughfares of the city--his only care was to put as many intricate streets and lanes as possible between himself and the detectives. this was soon done, and thereafter, turning into a darkish passage, he got rid of the paint-pot and borrowed costume. fortunately he had thrust his own soft helmet-shaped cap into his breast at the time he put on the billycock, and was thus enabled to issue from the dark passage very much like his former self, with the exception of a few spots of whitewash, which were soon removed. feeling now pretty safe, our hero walked a considerable distance through the unknown parts of the city, before he ventured to inquire the way to thoroughfares with which he was familiar. once in these, he proceeded at a smart pace to one of the railway stations, intending to leave town, though as yet he had formed no definite plan of action. in truth, his mind was much troubled and confused by the action of his conscience, for when the thought of leaving home and entering the army as a private soldier, against his father's wishes, crossed his mind, conscience faithfully shook his head; and when softer feelings prevailed, and the question arose irresistibly, "shall i return home?" the same faithful friend whispered, "yes." in a state of indecision, miles found himself borne along by a human stream to the booking-office. immediately in front of him were two soldiers,--one a sergeant, and the other a private of the line. both were tall handsome men, straight as arrows, and with that air of self-sufficient power which is as far removed from arrogance as it is from cowardice, and is by no means an uncommon feature in men of the british army. miles felt a strong, unaccountable attraction towards the young private. he had not yet heard his voice nor encountered his eye; indeed, being behind him, he had only seen his side-face, and as the expression on it was that of stern gravity, the attractive power could not have lain in that. it might have lain in the youthful look of the lad, for albeit a goodly man in person, he was almost a boy in countenance, being apparently not yet twenty years of age. miles was at last roused to the necessity for prompt and decisive action by the voice of the sergeant saying in tones of authority-- "portsmouth--third--two--single." "that's the way to go it, lobster!" remarked a shabby man, next in the line behind miles. the grave sergeant paid no more regard to this remark than if it had been the squeak of a mouse. "now, then, sir, your carridge stops the way. 'eave a'ead. shall i 'elp you?" said the shabby man. thus admonished, miles, scarce knowing what he said, repeated the sergeant's words-- "portsmouth--third--two--single." "vy, you ain't agoin' to pay for _me_, are you?" exclaimed the shabby man in smiling surprise. "oh! beg pardon. i mean _one_," said miles to the clerk, quickly. the clerk retracted the second ticket with stolid indifference, and miles, hastening to the platform, sat down on a seat, deeply and uncomfortably impressed with the fact that he possessed little or no money! this unsatisfactory state of things had suddenly burst upon him while in the act of paying for his ticket. he now made a careful examination of his purse, and found its contents to be exactly seven shillings and sixpence, besides a few coppers in his trousers-pocket. again indecision assailed him. should he return? it was not too late. "yes," said conscience, with emphasis. "no," said shame. false pride echoed the word, and self-will re-echoed it. still our hero hesitated, and there is no saying what the upshot might have been if the bell had not rung at the moment, and, "now, then, take your seats!" put an end to the controversy. another minute, and miles milton was seated opposite the two soldiers, rushing towards our great southern seaport at the rate of forty miles an hour. chapter two. shows some of the consequences of the false step, and introduces the reader to peculiar company. our hero soon discovered that the sergeant was an old campaigner, having been out in egypt at the beginning of the war, and fought at the famous battle of tel-el-kebir. in his grave and undemonstrative way and quiet voice, this man related some of his experiences, so as not only to gain the attention of his companion in arms, but to fascinate all who chanced to be within earshot of him--not the least interested among whom, of course, was our friend miles. as the sergeant continued to expatiate on those incidents of the war which had come under his own observation, three points impressed themselves on our hero: first, that the sergeant was evidently a man of serious, if not religious, spirit; second, that while he gave all due credit to his comrades for their bravery in action, he dwelt chiefly on those incidents which brought out the higher qualities of the men, such as uncomplaining endurance, forbearance, etcetera, and he never boasted of having given "a thorough licking" to the egyptians, nor spoke disparagingly of the native troops; lastly, that he seemed to lay himself out with a special view to the unflagging entertainment of his young comrade. the reason for this last purpose he learned during a short halt at one of the stations. seeing the sergeant standing alone there, miles, after accosting him with the inevitable references to the state of the weather, remarked that his comrade seemed to be almost too young for the rough work of soldiering. "yes, he is young enough, but older than he looks," answered the sergeant. "poor lad! i'm sorry for him." "indeed! he does not seem to me a fit subject for pity. young, strong, handsome, intelligent, he seems pretty well furnished to begin the battle of life--especially in the army." "`things are not what they seem,'" returned the soldier, regarding his young questioner with something between a compassionate and an amused look. "`all is not gold that glitters.' soldiering is not made up of brass bands, swords, and red coats!" "having read a good deal of history i am well aware of that," retorted miles, who was somewhat offended by the implication contained in the sergeant's remarks. "well, then, you see," continued the sergeant, "all the advantages that you have mentioned, and which my comrade certainly possesses, weigh nothing with him at all just now, because this sudden call to the wars separates him from his poor young wife." "wife!" exclaimed miles; "why, he seems to me little more than a boy-- except in size, and perhaps in gravity." "he is over twenty, and, as to gravity--well, most young fellows would be grave enough if they had to leave a pretty young wife after six months of wedded life. you see, he married without leave, and so, even if it were a time of peace, his wife would not be recognised by the service. in wartime he must of course leave her behind him. it has been a hard job to prevent him from deserting, and now it's all i can do to divert his attention from his sorrow by stirring him up with tales of the recent wars." at this point the inexorable bell rang, doors were banged, whistles sounded, and the journey was resumed. arrived at portsmouth, miles was quickly involved in the bustle of the platform. he had made up his mind to have some private conversation with the sergeant as to the possibility of entering her majesty's service as a private soldier, and was on the point of accompanying his military travelling companions into the comparative quiet of the street when a porter touched his cap-- "any luggage, sir?" "luggage?--a--no--no luggage!" it was the first moment since leaving home that the thought of luggage had entered into his brain! that thought naturally aroused other thoughts, such as lodgings, food, friends, funds, and the like. on turning to the spot where his military companions had stood, he discovered that they were gone. running to the nearest door-way he found it to be the wrong one, and before he found the right one and reached the street the two soldiers had vanished from the scene. "you seem to be a stranger here, sir. can i direct you?" said an insinuating voice at his elbow. the speaker was an elderly man of shabby-genteel appearance and polite address. miles did not quite like the look of him. in the circumstances, however, and with a strangely desolate feeling of loneliness creeping over him, he did not see his way to reject a civil offer. "thank you. i am indeed a stranger, and happen to have neither friend nor acquaintance in the town, so if you can put me in the way of finding a respectable lodging--a--a _cheap_ one, you will greatly oblige me." "with pleasure," said the man, "if you will accompany--" "stay, don't trouble yourself to show me the way," interrupted miles; "just name a house and the street, that will--" "no trouble at all, sir," said the man. "i happen to be going in the direction of the docks, and know of excellent as well as cheap lodgings there." making no further objection, miles followed his new friend into the street. for some time, the crowd being considerable and noisy, they walked in silence. at the time we write of, portsmouth was ringing with martial music and preparations for war. at all times the red-coats and the blue-jackets are prominent in the streets of that seaport; for almost the whole of our army passes through it at one period or another, either in going to or returning from "foreign parts." but at this time there was the additional bustle resulting from the egyptian war. exceptional activity prevailed in its yards, and hurry in its streets. recruits, recently enlisted, flocked into it from all quarters, while on its jetties were frequently landed the sad fruits of war in the form of wounded men. "have you ever been in portsmouth before?" asked the shabby-genteel man, on reaching a part of the town which was more open and less crowded. "never. i had no idea it was so large and bustling," said miles. "the crowding and bustling is largely increased just now, of course, in consequence of the war in egypt," returned the man. "troops are constantly embarking, and others returning. it is a noble service! men start in thousands from this port young, hearty, healthy, and full of spirit; they return--those of them who return at all--sickly, broken-down, and with no spirit at all except what they soon get poured into them by the publicans. yes; commend me to the service of my queen and country!" there was a sneering tone in the man's voice which fired his companion's easily roused indignation. "mind what you say about our queen while in _my_ company," said miles sternly, stopping short and looking the man full in the face. "i am a loyal subject, and will listen to nothing said in disparagement of the queen or of her majesty's forces." "bless you, sir," said the man quickly, "i'm a loyal subject myself, and wouldn't for the world say a word against her majesty. no more would i disparage her troops; but, after all, the army ain't perfect, you know. even _you_ must admit that, sir. with all its noble qualities there's room for improvement." there was such an air of sincerity--or at least of assumed humility--in the man's tone and manner that miles felt it unjustifiable to retain his indignation. at the same time, he could not all at once repress it, and was hesitating whether to fling off from the man or to forgive him, when the sound of many voices, and of feet tramping in regular time, struck his ear and diverted his attention. next moment the head of a regiment, accompanied by a crowd of juvenile admirers, swept round the corner of the street. at the same instant a forest of bayonets gleamed upon the youth's vision, and a brass band burst with crashing grandeur upon his ear, sending a quiver of enthusiasm into the deepest recesses of his soul, and stirring the very marrow in his bones! miles stood entranced until the regiment had passed, and the martial strains were softened by distance; then he looked up and perceived that his shabby companion was regarding him with a peculiar smile. "i think you've a notion of being a soldier," he said, with a smile. "where is that regiment going?" asked miles, instead of answering the question. "to barracks at present; to egypt in a few days. there'll be more followin' it before long." it was a distracting as well as an exciting walk that miles had through the town, for at every turn he passed couples or groups of soldiers, or sailors, or marines, and innumerable questions sprang into and jostled each other in his mind, while, at the same moment, his thoughts and feelings were busy with his present circumstances and future prospects. the distraction was increased by the remarks and comments of his guide, and he would fain have got rid of him; but good-feeling, as well as common-sense, forbade his casting him off without sufficient reason. presently he stopped, without very well knowing why, in front of a large imposing edifice. looking up, he observed the words soldiers' institute in large letters on the front of it. "what sort of an institute is that?" he asked. "oh! it's a miserable affair, where soldiers are taken in cheap, as they say, an' done for," returned the shabby man hurriedly, as if the subject were distasteful to him. "come along with me and i'll show you places where soldiers--ay, and civilians too--can enjoy themselves like gentlemen, an' get value for their money." as he spoke, two fine-looking men issued from a small street close to them, and crossed the road--one a soldier of the line, the other a marine. "here it is, jack," exclaimed the soldier to his friend; "miss sarah robinson's institoot, that you've heard so much about. come an' i'll show you where you can write your letter in peace--" thus much was overheard by miles as they turned into a side-street, and entered what was obviously one of the poorer districts of the town. "evidently that soldier's opinion does not agree with yours," remarked miles, as they walked along. "more's the pity!" returned the shabby man, whose name he had informed his companion was sloper. "now we are getting among places, you see, where there's a good deal of drinking going on." "i scarcely require to be told that," returned miles, curtly; for he was beginning to feel his original dislike to mister sloper intensified. it did not indeed require any better instructor than eyes and ears to inform our hero that the grog-shops around him were full, and that a large proportion of the shouting and swearing revellers inside were soldiers and seamen. by this time it was growing dark, and most of the gin-palaces were beginning to send forth that glare of intense and warm light with which they so knowingly attract the human moths that constitute their prey. "here we are," said sloper, stopping in front of a public-house in a narrow street. "this is one o' the _respectable_ lodgin's. most o' the others are disreputable. it's not much of a neighbourhood, i admit." "it certainly is not very attractive," said miles, hesitating. "you said you wanted a cheap one," returned sloper, "and you can't expect to have it cheap and fashionable, you know. you've no occasion to be afraid. come in." the arguments of mr sloper might have failed to move miles, but the idea of his being _afraid_ to go anywhere was too much for him. "go in, then," he said, firmly, and followed. the room into which he was ushered was a moderately large public-house, with a bar and a number of tables round the room, at which many men and a few women were seated; some gambling, others singing or disputing, and all drinking and smoking. it is only right to say that miles was shocked. hitherto he had lived a quiet and comparatively innocent country life. he knew of such places chiefly from books or hearsay, or had gathered merely the superficial knowledge that comes through the opening of a swing-door. for the first time in his life he stood inside a low drinking-shop, breathing its polluted atmosphere and listening to its foul language. his first impulse was to retreat, but false shame, the knowledge that he had no friend in portsmouth, or place to go to, that the state of his purse forbade his indulging in more suitable accommodation, and a certain pride of character which made him always determine to carry out what he had resolved to do--all these considerations and facts combined to prevent his acting on the better impulse. he doggedly followed his guide to a small round table and sat down. prudence, however, began to operate within him. he felt that he had done wrong; but it was too late now, he thought, to retrace his steps. he would, however, be on his guard; would not encourage the slightest familiarity on the part of any one, and would keep his eyes open. for a youth who had seen nothing of the world this was a highly commendable resolve. "what'll you drink?" asked mr sloper. miles was on the point of saying "coffee," but, reflecting that the beverage might not be readily obtainable in such a place, he substituted "beer." instead of calling the waiter, mr sloper went himself to the bar to fetch the liquor. while he was thus engaged, miles glanced round the room, and was particularly struck with the appearance of a large, fine-looking sailor who sat at the small table next to him, with hands thrust deep into his trousers-pockets, his chin resting on his broad chest, and a solemn, owlish stare in his semi-drunken yet manly countenance. he sat alone, and was obviously in a very sulky frame of mind--a condition which he occasionally indicated through a growl of dissatisfaction. as miles sat wondering what could have upset the temper of a tar whose visage was marked by the unmistakable lines and dimples of good-humour, he overheard part of the conversation that passed between the barman and mr sloper. "what! have they got hold o' rattling bill?" asked the former, as he drew the beer. "ay, worse luck," returned sloper. "i saw the sergeant as i came along lead him over to miss robinson's trap--confound her!" "don't you go fur to say anything agin miss robinson, old man," suddenly growled the big sailor, in a voice so deep and strong that it silenced for a moment the rest of the company. "leastways, you may if you like, but if you do, i'll knock in your daylights, an' polish up your figur'-head so as your own mother would mistake you fur a battered saucepan!" the seaman did not move from his semi-recumbent position as he uttered this alarming threat, but he accompanied it with a portentous frown and an owlish wink of both eyes. "what! have _you_ joined the blue lights?" asked sloper, with a smile, referring to the name by which the religious and temperance men of the army were known. "no, i ha'n't. better for me, p'r'aps, if i had. here, waiter, fetch me another gin-an'-warer. an' more o' the gin than the warer, mind. heave ahead or i'll sink you!" having been supplied with a fresh dose of gin and water, the seaman appeared to go to sleep, and miles, for want of anything better to do, accepted sloper's invitation to play a game of dominoes. "are the beds here pretty good?" he asked, as they were about to begin. "yes, first-rate--for the money," answered sloper. "that's a lie!" growled the big sailor. "they're bad at any price-- stuffed wi' cocoa-nuts and marline-spikes." mr sloper received this observation with the smiling urbanity of a man who eschews war at all costs. "you don't drink," he said after a time, referring to miles's pot of beer, which he had not yet touched. miles made no reply, but by way of answer took up the pot and put it to his lips. he had not drunk much of it when the big seaman rose hurriedly and staggered between the two tables. in doing so, he accidentally knocked the pot out of the youth's hand, and sent the contents into mr sloper's face and down into his bosom, to the immense amusement of the company. that man of peace accepted the baptism meekly, but miles sprang up in sudden anger. the seaman turned to him, however, with a benignantly apologetic smile. "hallo! messmate. i ax your parding. they don't leave room even for a scarecrow to go about in this here cabin. i'll stand you another glass. give us your flipper!" there was no resisting this, it was said so heartily. miles grasped the huge hand that was extended and shook it warmly. "all right," he said, laughing. "i don't mind the beer, and there's plenty more where that came from, but i fear you have done some damage to my fr--" "your _friend_. out with it, sir. never be ashamed to acknowledge your friends," exclaimed the shabby man, as he wiped his face. "hold on a bit," he added, rising; "i'll have to change my shirt. won't keep you waitin' long." "another pot o' beer for this 'ere gen'lem'n," said the sailor to the barman as sloper left the room. paying for the drink, he returned and put the pot on the table. then, turning to miles, he said in a low voice and with an intelligent look-- "come outside for a bit, messmate. i wants to speak to 'ee." miles rose and followed the man in much surprise. "you'll excuse me, sir," he said, when a few yards away from the door; "but i see that you're green, an' don't know what a rascally place you've got into. i've been fleeced there myself, and yet i'm fool enough to go back! most o' the parties there--except the sailors an' sodgers--are thieves an' blackguards. they've drugged your beer, i know; that's why i capsized it for you, and the feller that has got hold o' you is a well-known decoy-duck. i don't know how much of the ready you may have about you, but this i does know, whether it be much or little, you wouldn't have a rap of it in the mornin' if you stayed the night in this here house." "are you sure of this, friend?" asked miles, eyeing his companion doubtfully. "ay, as sure as i am that my name's jack molloy." "but you've been shamming drunk all this time. how am i to know that you are not shamming friendship now?" "no, young man," returned the seaman with blinking solemnity. "i'm not shammin' drunk. i on'y wish i was, for i'm three sheets in the wind at this minute, an' i've a splittin' headache due i' the mornin'. the way as you've got to find out whether i'm fair an' above-board is to look me straight in the face an' don't wink. if that don't settle the question, p'r'aps it'll convince you w'en i tells you that i don't care a rap whether you go back to that there grog-shop or not. only i'll clear my conscience--leastways, wot's left of it--by tellin' ye that if you do-- you--you'll wish as how you hadn't--supposin' they leave you the power to wish anything at all." "well, i believe you are a true man, mister molloy--" "don't mister me, mate," interrupted the seaman. "my name's jack molloy, at your service, an' that name don't require no handle--either mister or esquire--to prop it up." the way in which the sailor squared his broad shoulders when he said this rendered it necessary to prop himself up. seeing which, miles afforded the needful aid by taking his arm in a friendly way. "but come, let us go back," he said. "i must pay for my beer, you know." "your beer is paid for, young man," said molloy, stopping and refusing to move. "_i_ paid for it, so you've on'y got to settle with _me_. besides, if you go back you're done for. and you've no call to go back to say farewell to your dear friend sloper, for he'll on'y grieve over the loss of your tin. as to the unpurliteness o' the partin'--he won't break his heart over that. no--you'll come wi' me down to the _sailors' welcome_ near the dock-gates, where you can get a good bed for sixpence a night, a heavy blow-out for tenpence, with a splendid readin'-room, full o' rockin' chairs, an' all the rest of it for nothin'. an there's a lavatory--that's the name that they give to a place for cleanin' of yourself up--a lavatory--where you can wash yourself, if you like, till your skin comes off! w'en i first putt up at the _welcome_, the messmate as took me there said to me, says he, `jack,' says he, `you was always fond o' water.' `right you are,' says i. `well,' says he, `there's a place in the _sailors' welcome_ where you can wash yourself all day, if you like, for nothing!' "i do b'lieve it was that as indooced me to give in. i went an' saw this lavatory, an' i was so took up with it that i washed my hands in every bason in the place--one arter the other--an' used up ever so much soap, an'--would you believe it?--my hands wasn't clean after all! yes, it's one the wery best things in portsm'uth, is miss robinson's welcome--" "miss robinson again!" exclaimed miles. "ay--wot have you got to find fault wi' miss robinson?" demanded the sailor sternly. "no fault to find at all," replied miles, suffering himself to be hurried away by his new friend; "but wherever i have gone since arriving in portsmouth her name has cropped up!" "in portsmouth!" echoed the sailor. "let me tell you, young man, that wherever you go all over the world, if there's a british soldier there, miss sarah robinson's name will be sure to crop up. why, don't you know that she's `the soldiers' friend'?" "i'm afraid i must confess to ignorance on the point--yet, stay, now you couple her name with `the soldier's friend,' i have got a faint remembrance of having heard it before. have i not heard of a miss weston, too, in connection with a work of some sort among sailors?" "ay, no doubt ye have. she has a grand institoot in portsm'uth too, but she goes in for sailors _only_--all over the kingdom--w'ereas miss robinson goes in for soldiers an' sailors both, though mainly for the soldiers. she set agoin' the _sailors' welcome_ before miss weston began in portsm'uth, an' so she keeps it up, but there ain't no opposition or rivalry. their aims is pretty much alike, an' so they keep stroke together wi' the oars. but i'll tell you more about that when you get inside. here we are! there's the dock-gates, you see, and that's queen street, an' the _welcome's_ close at hand. it's a teetotal house, you know. all miss robinson's institoots is that." "indeed! how comes it, then, that a man--excuse me--`three sheets in the wind,' can gain admittance?" "oh! as to that, any sailor or soldier may get admittance, even if he's as drunk as a fiddler, if he on'y behaves his-self. but they won't supply drink on the premises, or allow it to be brought in--'cept inside o' you, of coorse. cause why? you can't help that--leastwise not without the help of a stomach-pump. plenty o' men who ain't abstainers go to sleep every night at the _welcome_, 'cause they find the beds and other things so comfortable. in fact, some hard topers have been indooced to take the pledge in consekince o' what they've heard an' seen in this _welcome_, though they came at first only for the readin'-room an' beds. here, let me look at you under this here lamp. yes. you'll do. you're something like a sea-dog already. you won't object to change hats wi' me?" "why?" asked miles, somewhat amused. "never you mind that, mate. you just putt yourself under my orders if you'd sail comfortably before the wind. i'll arrange matters, an' you can square up in the morning." as miles saw no particular reason for objecting to this fancy of his eccentric friend, he exchanged his soft cap for the sailor's straw hat, and they entered the _welcome_ together. chapter three. the "sailors' welcome"--miles has a night of it and enlists--his friend armstrong has an agreeable surprise at the soldiers' institute. it was not long before our hero discovered the reason of jack molloy's solicitude about his appearance. it was that he, miles, should pass for a sailor, and thus be in a position to claim the hospitality of the _sailors' welcome_,--to the inner life of which, civilians were not admitted, though they were privileged, with the public in general, to the use of the outer refreshment-room. "come here, jack molloy," he said, leading his friend aside, when he made this discovery. "you pride yourself on being a true-blue british tar, don't you?" "i does," said jack, with a profound solemnity of decision that comported well with his character and condition. "and you would scorn to serve under the french flag, or the turkish flag, or the black flag, or any flag but the union jack, wouldn't you?" "right you are, mate; them's my sentiments to a tee!" "well, then, you can't expect _me_ to sail under false colours any more than yourself," continued miles. "i scorn to sail into this port under your straw hat, so i'll strike these colours, bid you good-bye, and make sail for another port where a civilian will be welcome." molloy frowned at the floor for some moments in stern perplexity. "you've took the wind out o' my sails entirely, you have," he replied at last; "an' you're right, young man, but i'm troubled about you. if you don't run into this here port you'll have to beat about in the offing all night, or cast anchor in the streets, for i don't know of another lodgin' in portsm'uth w'ere you could hang out except them disrepitible grog-shops. in coorse, there's the big hotels; but i heerd you say to sloper that you was bound to do things cheap, bein' hard up." "never mind, my friend," said miles quickly. "i will manage somehow; so good-night, and many thanks to you for the interest you have taken in--" "avast, mate! there's no call to go into action in sitch a hurry. this here _sailors' welcome_ opens the doors of its bar an' refreshment-room, an' spreads its purvisions before all an' sundry as can afford to pay its moderate demands. it's on'y the after-cabin you're not free to. so you'll have a bit supper wi' me before you set sail on your night cruise." being by that time rather hungry as well as fatigued, miles agreed to remain for supper. while they were engaged with it, he was greatly impressed with the number of sailors and marines who passed into the reading-room beyond the bar, or who sat down at the numerous tables around to have a hearty supper, which they washed down with tea and coffee instead of beer or gin--apparently with tremendous appetite and much satisfaction. "look ye here," said jack molloy, rising when their "feed" was about concluded, "i've no doubt they won't object to your taking a squint at the readin'-room, though they won't let you use it." following his companion, miles passed by a glass double door into an enormous well-lighted, warm room, seventy feet long, and of proportionate width and height, in which a goodly number of men of the sea were busy as bees--some of them reading books or turning over illustrated papers and magazines, others smoking their pipes, and enjoying themselves in rocking-chairs in front of the glowing fire, chatting, laughing, and yarning as free-and-easily as if in their native fo'c's'ls, while a few were examining the pictures on the walls, or the large models of ships which stood at one side of the room. at the upper end a full-sized billiard-table afforded amusement to several players, and profound interest to a number of spectators, who passed their comments on the play with that off-hand freedom which seems to be a product of fresh gales and salt-water. a door standing partly open at the upper end of this apartment revealed a large hall, from which issued faintly the sound of soft music. "ain't it snug? and there's no gamblin' agoin' on there," remarked molloy, as they returned to their table; "that's not allowed--nor drinkin', nor card-playin', but that's all they putt a stop to. she's a wise woman is miss robinson. she don't hamper us wi' no rules. why, bless you, jack ashore would never submit to rules! he gits more than enough o' them afloat. no; it's liberty hall here. we may come an' go as we like, at all hours o' the day and night, an' do exactly as we please, so long as we don't smash up the furnitur', or feed without payin', or make ourselves a gineral noosance. they don't even forbid swearin'. they say they leave the matter o' lingo to our own good taste and good sense. an' d'you know, it's wonderful what an' amount o' both we've got w'en we ain't worried about it! you'll scarce hear an oath in this house from mornin' to evenin', though you'll hear a deal o' snorin' doorin' the night! that's how the place takes so well, d'ee see?" "then the _welcome_ is well patronised, i suppose?" "patronised!" exclaimed the seaman; "that's so, an' no mistake. why, mate--but what's your name? i've forgot to ax you that all this time!" "call me miles," said our hero, with some hesitation. "_call_ you miles! _ain't_ you miles?" "well, yes, i am; only there's more of my name than that, but that's enough for your purpose, i daresay." "all right. well, miles, you was askin' how the house is patronised. i'll tell 'ee. they make up about two hundred an' twenty beds in it altogether, an' these are chock-full a'most every night. one way or another they had forty-four thousand men, more or less, as slep' under this roof last year--so i've bin told. that's patronisin', ain't it? to say nothin' o' the fellers as comes for--grub, which, as you've found, is good for the money, and the attendants is civil. you see, they're always kind an' attentive here, 'cause they professes to think more of our souls than our bodies--which we've no objection to, d'ee see, for the lookin' arter our souls includes the lookin' arter our bodies! an' they don't bother us in no way to attend their bible-readin's an' sitchlike. there they are in separate rooms; if you want 'em you may go; if you don't, you can let 'em alone. no compulsion, which comes quite handy to some on us, for i don't myself care much about sitchlike things. so long's my body's all right, i leaves my soul to look arter itself." as the seaman said this with a good-natured smile of indifference, there sprang to the mind of his young companion words that had often been impressed on him by his mother: "what shall it profit a man if he should gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?" but he made no reference to this at the time. "hows'ever," continued molloy, "as they don't worrit us about religion, except to give us a good word an' a blessin' now an' again, and may-hap a little book to read, we all patronises the house; an it's my opinion, if it was twice as big as it is, we'd fill it chock-full. i would board as well as sleep in it myself--for it's full o' conveniences, sitch as lockers to putt our things in, an' baths, and what not, besides all the other things i've mentioned--but the want o' drink staggers me. i can't git along without a drop o' drink." miles thought that his nautical friend appeared to be unable to get along without a good many drops of drink, but he was too polite to say so. "man alive!" continued jack molloy, striking his huge fist on his thigh with emphasis; "it's a wonderful place is this _welcome_! an' it's a lively place too. why, a fellow hanged his-self in one o' the bunks overhead not long ago." "you don't mean that?" exclaimed miles, rather shocked. "in course i does. but they heard 'im gaspin', an cut him down in time to save him. it was drink they say as made him do it, and they got him to sign the pledge arterwards. i believe he's kep' it too. leastwise i know many a hard drinker as have bin indooced to give it up and stuck to it--all through comin' here to have a snooze in a comfortable hunk. they give the bunks names--cubicles they calls 'em in the lump. separately, there's the `commodore goodenough cot,' an' the `little nellie cot,' an' the `sunshine cot'--so called 'cause it hain't got a port-hole to let in the daylight at all; and the `billy rough 'un'--" "the what?" "`the billy rough 'un'--arter the ship o' that name, you know--" "oh! you mean the _bellerophon_." "well, young man, an' didn't i _say_ the `billy rough 'un'? then there's the--but what's your hurry?" said the seaman, as miles rose. "it's getting late now, friend. if i'm to find another lodging i must be off. doubtless, i'll find some respectable house to take me in for the night." miles suppressed a yawn as he put on his cap. "i don't believe you will," returned molloy, also rising, and giving full vent to a sympathetic and vociferous yawn. "hows'ever, w'en a young feller insists on havin' his way, it's best to give him plenty of cable and let him swing. he's sure to find out his mistake by experience. but look ye here, miles, i've took a fancy to you, an' i'd be sorry to think you was in difficulties. if," he continued, thrusting a hand into his breeches-pocket, and bringing up therefrom a mass of mixed gold, silver, and copper--"if you don't objec' to accep' of a loan of--" "thank you--no, my friend. it is very kind of you," said miles quickly; "but i have quite enough for present necessities. so good-night." "all right," returned the sailor, thrusting the money back into his pocket. "but if you should ever want a jaw with jack molloy while you're in this here port you've only got to hail him at the _sailors' welcome_, an' if he should happen to be out, they always can tell you where he's cruisin'. good-night, an' luck go wi' ye!" another tremendous yawn finished the speech, and next moment miles found himself in the street, oppressed with a strange and miserable sensation which he had never before experienced. indeed, he had to lean against the house for a few minutes after coming out into the fresh air, and felt as if the power of connected thought was leaving him. he was aroused from this condition by the flashing of a light in his eyes. opening them wide, he beheld a policeman looking at him earnestly. "now, then, young fellow," said the guardian of the night; "d'you think you can take care of yourself?" "oh! yes, quite well. it's only a giddy feeling that came over me. i'm all right," said miles, rousing himself and passing on. he staggered slightly, however, and a short "humph!" from the policeman showed that he believed the youth to be something more than giddy. ashamed to be even unjustly supposed to be intoxicated, miles hurried away, wondering very much what could be the matter with him, for he had not tasted a drop of strong drink, except the half-glass of beer he had swallowed before molloy chanced to knock it out of his hand. suddenly he remembered that the sailor had said the beer was drugged. if he could have asked the barman who had served him, that worthy could have told him that this was true; that the whole glassful, if swallowed, would, ere long, have rendered him insensible, and that what he had already taken was enough to do him considerable damage. as he walked onward, he became rapidly worse; the people and the streets seemed to swim before him; an intense desire to sleep overpowered every other feeling, and at last, turning into a dark entry, he lay down and pillowed his head on a door-step. here he was found by a policeman; a stretcher was fetched, and he was conveyed to the station as "drunk and incapable!" when brought before the inspector the following morning, shame and reckless despair were the tenants of his breast. those tenants were not expelled, but rather confirmed in possession, when the inspector--after numerous questions, to which miles returned vague unsatisfactory replies--adopted the role of the faithful friend, and gave him a great deal of paternal advice, especially with reference to the avoidance of strong drink and bad companions. miles had the wisdom, however, to conceal his feelings, and to take the reproof and advice in good part. afterwards, on being set free, he met a recruiting sergeant, who, regarding him as a suitable subject for the service of her majesty, immediately laid siege to him. in his then state of mind the siege was an easy one. in short, he capitulated at once and entered the queen's service, under the name of john miles. we need scarcely say that his heart misgave him, that his conscience condemned him, and that, do what he would, he could not shut out the fact that his taking so hasty and irrevocable a step was a poor return for all the care and anxiety of his parents in years gone by. but, as we have said, or hinted, miles was one of those youths who, when they have once made up their minds to a certain course of action, fancy that they are bound to pursue it to the end. hence it was that he gave his name as john miles instead of miles milton, so that he might baffle any inquiries as to what had become of him. once enlisted, he soon began to realise the fact that he was no longer a free agent--at least not in the sense in which he had been so up to that period of his life. constant drill was the order of the day for some weeks; for there was a demand for more troops for egypt at the time, and regiments were being made up to their full strength as fast as possible. during this period miles saw little of his companions in arms personally, save that group of recruits who were being "licked into shape" along with him. at first he was disappointed with these, for most of them were shy, unlettered men; some, raw lads from the country; and others, men who seemed to have been loafers before joining, and were by no means attractive. the drill-sergeant, however, was a good, though stern man, and soon recognised the differences in character, aptitude, and willingness among his raw recruits. this man, whose name was hardy, made a powerful impression on our hero from the first; there was something so quiet and even gentle about him, in spite of his firm and inflexible demands in regard to the matters of drill and duty. to please this man, miles gave himself heart and soul to his work, and was soon so efficient as to be allowed to join the regiment. and here he found, to his surprise and satisfaction, that the sergeant and young soldier with whom he had travelled to portsmouth, were members of the company to which he was attached. as we have said, miles had taken a great fancy at first sight to the young private, whose name was william armstrong. our hero was of an affectionate disposition, and would have allowed his warm feelings to expend themselves on a dog rather than have denied them free play. no wonder, then, that he was attracted by the handsome manly countenance and deferential manner of armstrong, who, although an uneducated youth, and reared in the lower ranks of life, was gifted with those qualities of the true gentleman which mere social position can neither bestow nor take away. his intellect also was of that active and vigorous fibre which cannot be entirely repressed by the want of scholastic training. the affection was mutual, for the contrasts and similarities of the two men were alike calculated to draw them together. both were tall, broad, square-shouldered, erect, and soldierly, yet, withal, modest as well in demeanour as in feeling, and so exactly like to each other in size and figure, and in the quiet gravity of their expressions, that they might well have been taken for twin brothers. when, in uniform, the two strode along the streets of portsmouth, people were apt to turn and look at them, and think, no doubt, that with many such men in the british army it would go hard with the foes of old england! the bond of union was still further strengthened by the fact that, while the comparatively learned miles was enthusiastic and communicative, the unlettered armstrong was inquisitive and receptive, fond of prying into the nature of things, and always ready as well as competent to discuss-- not merely to _argue_. observe the distinction, good reader. discussion means the shaking of any subject into its component parts with a desire to understand it. argument has come very much to signify the enravelment of any subject with a view to the confusion and conquest of an opponent. both young men abhorred the latter and liked the former. hence much of their harmony and friendship. "will you come with me up town?" said armstrong to miles one day, as he was about to quit the barrack-room. "i'm going to see if there's any news of my emmy." "i did not know you expected her," said miles. "come along, i'm ready." "i don't expect her yet," returned armstrong, as they left the barracks; "i only look for a letter, because it was on wednesday that i wrote telling her of my going to egypt, and she can scarce have had time to get ready to come down, poor girl! in fact i am going to engage a room for her. by the way, i heard this morning that there's to be another draft for egypt, so you'll have a chance to go." "i'm rejoiced to hear it," returned miles; "for, to say the truth, i had been growing envious of your good fortune in being ordered on active service." "hooroo, armstrong, where away now?" cried an unmistakably irish voice, as a smart little soldier crossed the street to them, and was introduced to miles as corporal flynn, belonging to another company in his own regiment. "my blissin' on ye, miles. john, is it?" "yes, john," replied our hero, much amused at the free-and-easy address of the little corporal. "well, john miles," he said, "i don't know whether ye'll laugh or cry whin i tell ye that you'll likely be warned this evenin' for the draft that's goin' to aigypt." "i certainly won't cry," returned miles, with a laugh. yet the news brought a sudden feeling into his breast which was strongly allied to the opposite of laughter, for the thought of parting from father and mother without bidding them farewell fell upon his spirit with crushing weight; but, like too many men who know they are about to do wrong, miles hardened his heart with the delusive argument that, having fairly taken the step, it was impossible for him now to retrace it. he knew-- at least he thought--that there was still the possibility of being bought off, and that his stern father would only be too glad to help him. he also knew that at least he had time to write and let them know his circumstances, so that they might run down to portsmouth and bid him good-bye; but he had taken the bit in his teeth, and now he resolved to abide the consequences. turning from his companions while they conversed, he looked into a shop-window. "your chum's in the blues," said the lively corporal, in a lower voice. "young fellows are often in that state after joining, ain't they?" returned armstrong. "true for ye--an' more shame to them, whin they ought to be as proud as paycocks at wearin' her gracious majesty's uniform. but good luck to 'ee! i must be off, for i'm bound for aigypt mesilf." "i am glad that i shall have the chance of seeing your wife, for i've been much interested in her since your friend sergeant gilroy told me about her," said miles, as they resumed their walk. "surely it is hard of them to refuse to let her go with the regiment." "well, it _is_ hard," returned the young soldier; "but after all i cannot find fault with the powers that be, for i married with my eyes open. i knew the rule that those who marry without leave must leave their wives at home, for only a certain number of families can go abroad with a regiment--and that only in peace-time." "it might have been well," continued armstrong, slowly, while a sad expression clouded his face for a few moments, "if i had waited, and many a time has my conscience smitten me for my haste. but what could i do? emmy most unaccountably fell in love wi' me--_thank god_! for i do think that the greatest earthly blessing that can be given to mortal man is the love of a gentle, true-hearted girl. the wealth of the indies cannot purchase that, and nothing else in life can supply the want of it. can you wonder that i grasped the treasure when within my reach?" "i certainly cannot; and as certainly i do not blame you," returned the sympathetic miles. "of course i fell in love with emmy," continued the soldier, with a slightly confused look. "i could no more help that than i could help growing up. could i?" "certainly not," said miles. "well, you see," continued his friend, "as the affair was arranged in heaven, according to general belief, what was i that i should resist? you see, emmy's father, who's a well-to-do farmer, was willing, and we never gave a thought to egypt or the war at the time. she will be well looked after while i'm away, and i'll send her every penny of my pay that i can spare, but--" he stopped abruptly, and miles, respecting his feelings, remarked, by way of changing the subject, that, the pay of a private soldier being so small, very little could be saved out of that. "not much," assented his comrade; "but, little as it is, we can increase it in various ways. for one thing, i have given up smoking. that will save a little; though, to say truth, i have never expended much on baccy. then i have joined miss robinson's temperance band--" "strange how often that lady's name has been in my ears since i came to portsmouth!" said miles. "not so strange after all," returned armstrong, "when one reflects that she has been the means of almost changing the character of the town within the last few years--as far at least as concerns the condition of soldiers, as well as many of the poorer classes among its inhabitants-- so sergeant gilroy tells me." as some of the information given by sergeant gilroy to the young soldier may be interesting to many readers, we quote a few of his own words. "why, some years ago," he said, "the soldiers' wives, mothers, and sisters who came down here to see the poor fellows set sail for foreign parts, found it almost impossible to obtain lodgings, except in drinking-houses which no respectable woman could enter. some poor women even preferred to spend a winter night under railway arches, or some such shelter, rather than enter these places. and soldiers out of barracks had nowhere else to go to for amusement, while sailors on leave had to spend their nights in them or walk the streets. now all that is changed. the soldiers' institute supplies beds, and furnishes board and lodging to our sisters and wives at the lowest possible rates, besides reception-rooms where we can meet our friends; a splendid reading-room, where we find newspapers and magazines, and can write our letters, if we like, in peace and quiet; a bar where tea and coffee, bread and butter, buns, etcetera, can be had at all reasonable hours for a mere trifle; a coffee and smoking room, opening out of which are two billiard-rooms, and beyond these a garden, where we can get on the flat roof of a house and watch the arrival and departure of shipping. there is a small charge to billiard-players, which pays all expenses of the tables, so that not a penny of the institute funds is spent on the games. of course no gambling is allowed in any of miss robinson's institutes. then there are bible-class rooms, and women's work-rooms, and a lending library, and bathrooms, and a great hall, big enough to hold a thousand people, where there are held temperance meetings, lectures with dissolving views, entertainments, and `tea-fights,' and sunday services. no wonder that, with such an agency at work for the glory of god and the good of men, portsmouth is almost a new place. indeed, although miss robinson met with powerful opposition at first from the powers that be, her institute is now heartily recognised and encouraged in every way at the horse guards. indeed, it has recently been visited by the prince of wales and the duke of cambridge, and highly approved of by these and other grandees." while the two soldiers were chatting about the past and present of the institute they arrived at its door. "here we are. come into the reception-room, miles, while i make inquiry about my letters." they entered the house as he spoke. the reception-room is on the right of the passage. armstrong opened the door and looked in, but, instead of advancing, he stood transfixed, gazing before him open-mouthed as though he had seen a spectre, for there, in front of the fire, sat a beautiful, refined-looking girl, with golden hair and blue eyes, gazing pensively at the flickering flames. miles was not kept long in suspense as to who she was. "emmy!" "oh, willie!" these were exclamations which would have revealed all in a moment, even though emmy had not sprung up and rushed into willie's open arms. how she ever emerged from the embrace of those arms with unbroken bones is a mystery which cannot be solved, but she did emerge in safety, and with some confusion on observing that miles had witnessed the incident with admiring gaze! "never mind him, emmy," said the young soldier, laughing; "he's a good friend, a comrade. shake hands with him." the action, and the ease of manner with which emmy obeyed, proved that grace and small hands are not altogether dependent on rank or station. "excuse me," said miles, after a few words of salutation; "i'll go and have a look at the library." so saying he quitted the room, leaving the young couple alone; for there chanced to be no other visitors to the reception-room at the time. in the lobby he found several soldiers and a couple of sailors enjoying coffee at the bar, and was about to join them when a man came forward whose dress was that of a civilian, though his bearing proclaimed him a soldier. "hallo, brown," exclaimed one of the soldiers, "d'ye know that a troop-ship has just come in!" "know it? of course i do; you may trust the people of this house to be first in hearing such news." "mr tufnell told me of it. i'm just going down to the jetty to boil the kettle for them." as he spoke, two ladies of the institute descended the broad staircase, each with a basket on her arm. they entered into conversation for a few minutes with the soldiers at the bar, and it was abundantly evident to miles, from the kindly tone of the former and the respectful air of the latter, that they were familiar acquaintances, and on the best of terms. "are you all ready, brown?" asked one of the ladies of the soldier-like civilian, whom we have already mentioned. "all ready, miss; a man has already gone to order the bread and butter and light the fire. i hear the vessel is crowded, so we may expect a full house to-night." miles pricked up his ears on hearing this, and when brown went out, leaving the two ladies to finish their conversation with the soldiers, he followed him. "pardon me," he said, on overtaking the man. "did i understand correctly that a troop-ship has just arrived?" "right," said brown. "i am just going down to the embarkation jetty to get coffee ready for the men. you seem to have joined but a short time, apparently, for though i am familiar with your uniform i have not seen yourself before." "true, it is not long since i joined, and this is my first visit to the institute." "i hope it won't be the last, friend," returned brown heartily. "every soldier is welcome there, and, for the matter of that, so is every sailor and marine." "i have heard as much. may i accompany you to this jetty to see the troops arrive, and this coffee business that you speak of?" "you may, and welcome," said brown, leading his companion through the town in the direction of the docks, and chatting, as they walked along, about the army and navy; about his own experiences in the former; and about the condition of soldiers at the present time as contrasted with that of the days gone by. chapter four. the embarkation jetty--and nipped in the bud. bronzed faces under white helmets crowded the ports and bulwarks of the great white leviathan of the deep--the troop-ship _orontes_--as she steamed slowly and cautiously up to the embarkation jetty in portsmouth harbour. on the jetty itself a few anxious wives, mothers, and sisters stood eagerly scanning the sea of faces, in the almost hopeless endeavour to distinguish those for which they sought. yet ever and anon an exclamation on the jetty, and an answering wave of an arm on the troop-ship, told that some at least of the anxious ones had been successful in the search. "don't they look weather-beaten?" remarked miles to his companion. "sure it's more like sun-dried they are," answered a voice at his side. brown had gone to the shed to prepare his coffee and bread against the landing of the troops, and a stout irishwoman had taken his place. close to her stood the two ladies from the institute with baskets on their arms. "you are right," returned miles, with a smile; "they look like men who have seen service. is your husband among them?" "faix, i'd be sorprised if he _was_," returned the woman; "for i left him in owld ireland, in the only landed property he iver held in this world--six futt by two, an' five deep. he's been in possession six years now, an' it wouldn't be aisy to drive him out o' that, anyhow. no, it's my son terence i've come to look afther. och! there he is! look, look, that's him close by the funnel! don't ye see 'im? blissins on his good-lookin' face! hooroo! terence--terence flynn, don't ye recognise yer owld mother? sure an' he does, though we haven't met for tin year. my! hasn't he got the hair on his lips too--an' his cheeks are like shoe-leather--my darlint!" as the enthusiastic mother spoke in the tones of a public orator, there was a general laugh among those who were nearest to her; but she was forgotten immediately, for all were too deeply intent on their own interests to pay much regard to each other just then. the great vessel was slow in getting alongside and making fast to the jetty--slow at least in the estimation of the impatient--for although she might leap and career grandly in wanton playfulness while on her native billows, in port a careless touch from her ponderous sides would have crushed part of the jetty into fragments. miles therefore had ample time to look about him at the various groups around. one young woman specially attracted his attention, for she stood apart from every one, and seemed scarcely able to stand because of weakness. she was young and good-looking. her face, which was deadly pale, contrasted strongly with her glossy raven-black hair, and the character of her dress denoted extreme poverty. the ladies from the institute had also observed this poor girl, and one of them, going to her side, quietly addressed her. miles, from the position in which he stood, could not avoid overhearing what was said. "yes, miss, i expect my husband," said the woman in answer to a question. "he's coming home on sick-leave. i had a letter from him a good while ago saying he was coming home in the _orontes_." "i hope you will find that the sea air has done him good," said the lady, in that tone of unobtrusive sympathy which is so powerfully attractive,--especially to those who are in trouble. "a sea voyage frequently has a wonderful effect in restoring invalids. what is his name?" "martin--fred martin. he's a corporal now." "you have not recognised him yet, i suppose?" "not yet, miss," answered mrs martin, with an anxious look, and shivering slightly as she drew a thin worn shawl of many patches closer round her shoulders. "but he wouldn't expect me to meet him, you see, knowing that i'm so poor, and live far from portsmouth. but i was so anxious, you see, miss, that our kind vicar gave me enough money to come down." "where did you spend the night?" asked the lady, quickly. the poor woman hesitated, and at last said she had spent the night walking about the streets. "you see, miss," she explained apologetically, "i didn't know a soul in the town, and i couldn't a-bear to go into any o' the public-houses; besides, i had no money, for the journey down took nearly all of it." "oh, i am so sorry that you didn't know of our institute," said the lady, with much sympathy in voice and look; "for we provide accommodation for soldiers' wives who come, like you, to meet their husbands returning from abroad, and we charge little, or even nothing, if they are too poor to pay." "indeed, miss! i wish i had known of it. but in the morning i had the luck to meet a policeman who directed me to a coffee-tavern in a place called nobbs lane--you'll not know it, miss, for it's in a very poor part o' the town--where i got a breakfast of as much hot pea-soup and bread as i could eat for three-ha'pence, an' had a good rest beside the fire too. they told me it was kept by a miss robinson. god bless her whoever she is! for i do believe i should have been dead by now if i hadn't got the rest and the breakfast." the woman shivered again as she spoke, and drew the thin shawl still closer, for a sharp east wind was blowing over the jetty at the time. "come with me; you are cold. i know nobbs lane well. we have a shed and fire here on the jetty to shelter people while waiting. there, you need not fear to miss your husband, for the men won't land for a long time yet." "may i follow you, madam?" said miles, stepping forward and touching his cap in what he supposed to be the deferential manner of a private soldier. "i am interested in your work, and would like to see the shed you speak of." the lady looked up quickly at the tall young soldier who thus addressed her. "i saw you in the lobby of the institute this morning, did i not?" "you did, madam. i was waiting for a friend who is a frequenter of the institute. one of your own people brought me down here to see the arrival of the _orontes_, and the coffee-shed; but i have lost him in the crowd, and know not where the shed is." "here it is," returned the lady, pointing to an iron structure just behind them. "you will find mr brown there busy with the coffee, and that small shed beside it is the shelter-room. you are welcome to inspect all our buildings at any time." so saying, the lady led mrs martin into the shed last referred to, and miles followed her. there was a small stove, in the solitary iron room of which the shed consisted, which diffused a genial warmth around. several soldiers' wives and female relatives were seated beside it, engaged in quieting refractory infants, or fitting a few woollen garments on children of various ages. these garments had been brought from the institute, chiefly for the purpose of supplying the wives and children returning from warmer climes to england; and one of them, a thick knitted shawl, was immediately presented to mrs martin as a gift, and placed round her shoulders by the lady's own hands. "you are _very_ kind, miss," she said, an unbidden tear rolling down her cheek as she surveyed the garment and folded it over her breast. "have you any children?" asked the lady. "none. we had one--a dear baby boy," answered the young wife sadly, "born after his father left england. god took him home when he was two years old. his father never saw him; but we shall all meet again," she added, brightly, "in the better land." "ah! it makes me glad to hear you say that god took him _home_. only the spirit of jesus could make you regard heaven as the home where you are all to meet again. now i would advise you to sit here and keep warm till i go and make inquiry about your husband. it is quite possible, you know, that he may be in the sick bay, and they won't let any one on board till the vessel is made fast. you are quite sure, i suppose, that it was the _orontes_ in which your husband said he was coming?" "yes, quite sure." the lady had asked the question because a vague fear possessed her regarding the cause of the soldier's not having been seen looking eagerly over the side like the other men. hurrying from the shed, with her basket on her arm, she made for the gangway, which had just been placed in position. she was accompanied by her companion, also carrying her basket. miles took the liberty of following them closely, but not obviously, for he formed only one of a stream of men and women who pushed on board the instant that permission was given. while one of the ladies went in search of one of the chief officers, the other quietly and unobtrusively advanced among the returning warriors, and, opening her basket, drew therefrom and offered to each soldier an envelope containing one or two booklets and texts, and a hearty invitation to make free use of the soldiers' institute during their stay in portsmouth. a most bewildering scene was presented on the deck of that great white vessel. there were hundreds of soldiers in her, returning home after longer or shorter absences in china, india, the cape, and other far-away parts of the earth. some were stalwart and bronzed by the southern sun; others were gaunt, weak, and cadaverous, from the effect of sickness, exposure, or wounds; but all were more or less excited at having once again set eyes on old england, and at the near prospect of once more embracing wives, mothers, and sweethearts, and meeting with old friends. the continual noise of manly voices hailing, exclaiming, chaffing, or conversing, and the general babel of sounds is indescribable. to miles milton, who had never before even imagined anything of the sort, it seemed more like a vivid dream than a reality. he became so bewildered with trying to attend to everything at once that he lost sight of the shorter of the ladies, whom he was following, but, pushing ahead, soon found her again in the midst of a group of old friends--though still young soldiers--who had known the institute before leaving for foreign service, and were eagerly inquiring after the health of miss robinson, and tufnell the manager, and others. during his progress through this bustling scene, miles observed that the soldiers invariably received the gifts from the lady with respect, and, many of them, with hearty expressions of thanks, while a few stopped her to speak about the contents of the envelopes. so numerous were the men that the work had to be done with business-like celerity, but the visitor was experienced. while wasting no time in useless delay, she never hurried her movements, or refused to stop and speak, or forced her way through the moving throng. almost unobserved, save by the men who chanced to be next to her, she glided in and out amongst them like a spirit of light--which, in the highest sense, she was--intent on her beneficent mission. her sole aim was to save the men from the tremendous dangers that awaited them on landing in portsmouth, and bring them under christian influence. those dangers may be imagined when it is told that soldiers returning from abroad are often in possession of large sums of money, and that harpies of all kinds are eagerly waiting to plunder them on their arrival. on one occasion a regiment came home, and in a few days squandered three thousand pounds in portsmouth. much more might be said on this point, but enough has been indicated to move thoughtful minds-- and our story waits. suddenly the attention of miles, and every one near him, was attracted by the loud hibernian yell of a female voice exclaiming-- "oh, terence, me darlin' son, here ye are; an' is it yersilf lookin' purtier a long way than the day ye left me; an' niver so much as a scratch on yer face for all the wars ye've bin in--bad luck to thim!" need we say that this was mrs flynn? in her anxiety to meet her son she had run against innumerable men and women, who remonstrated with her variously, according to temperament, without, however, the slightest effect. her wild career was not checked until she had flung herself into the arms of a tall, stalwart trooper with drooping moustache, who would have done credit to any nationality under the sun, and whose enthusiasm at the happy meeting with his mother was almost as demonstrative as her own, but more dignified. others there were, however, whose case was very different. one who came there to meet the strong healthy man, to whom she had said good-bye at the same spot several years before, received him back a worn and wasted invalid, upright still with the martial air of discipline, but feeble, and with something like the stamp of death upon his brow. another woman found her son, strong indeed and healthy, as of yore, but with an empty sleeve where his right arm should have been--his days of warfare over before his earthly sun had reached the zenith! whilst miles was taking note of these things, and moralising in spite of his distaste just then to that phase of mental occupation, the other lady of the institute appeared and spoke hurriedly to her companion. "go," she said, "tell mrs martin that her husband is _not_ on board the _orontes_. let tufnell, if he is at the shed, or our missionary, take her up to the institute without delay. let them take this note to miss robinson at the same time." the younger lady looked inquiringly at her companion, but the latter pushed on hurriedly and was soon lost in the crowd, so she went at once on shore to obey her instructions. being thus left to look after himself, miles went about gazing at the varied, interesting, and curious scenes that the vessel presented. no one took any notice of him, for he was only one soldier among hundreds, and so many people from the shore had been admitted by that time that strange faces attracted no attention. we have referred chiefly to soldiers' friends, but these, after all, formed a small minority of the visitors, many of whom were tradesmen of the town--tailors, shoemakers, and vendors of fancy articles--who had come down with their wares to tempt the returning voyagers to part with their superfluous cash. even in the midst of all the pushing and confusion, one man was seen trying on a pair of boots; near to him was a sailor, carefully inspecting a tailor's book of patterns with a view to shore-going clothes; while another, more prompt in action, was already being measured for a suit of the same. descending to the 'tween-decks, our hero found that the confusion and noise there were naturally greater, the space being more limited and the noise confined. there was the addition of bad air and disagreeable smells here; and miles could not help reflecting on the prospect before him of long voyages under cramped circumstances, in the midst of similar surroundings. but, being young and enthusiastic, he whispered to himself that he was not particular, and was ready to "rough it" in his country's cause! in a remarkably dark region to which he penetrated, he found himself in the women's quarters, the disagreeables of which were increased by the cries of discontented children, and the yells of inconsolable infants-- some of whom had first seen the light of this world in the sad twilight of 'tween-decks! shrinking from that locality, miles pursued his investigations, and gradually became aware that sundry parrots and other pets which the soldiers and sailors had brought home were adding their notes of discord to the chorus of sounds. while he was looking at, and attempting to pat, a small monkey, which received his advances with looks of astonished indignation, he became conscious of the fact that a number of eyes were looking down on him through a crevice at the top of a partition close to his side. "who are these?" he asked of a sailor, who stood near him. "why, them are the long-term men." "i suppose you mean prisoners?" "yes; that's about it," replied the tar. "soldiers as has committed murder--or suthin' o' that sort--an' got twenty year or more for all i knows. the other fellers further on there, in chains, is short-term men. bin an' done suthin' or other not quite so bad, i suppose." miles advanced "further on," and found eight men seated on the deck and leaning against the bulkhead. if his attention had not been drawn to them, he might have supposed they were merely resting, but a closer glance showed that they were all chained to an iron bar. they did not seem very different from the other men around them, save that they were, most of them, stern and silent. a powerful feeling of compassion rose in our hero's breast as he looked at these moral wrecks of humanity; for their characters and prospects were ruined, though their physique was not much impaired. it seemed to him such an awful home-coming, after, perhaps, long years of absence, thus, in the midst of all the bustle and joy of meetings and of pleasant anticipations, to be waiting there for the arrival of the prison-van, and looking forward to years of imprisonment instead of reunion with friends and kindred. at sight of them a thought sprang irresistibly into our hero's mind, "this is the result of wrong-doing!" his conscience was uncomfortably active and faithful that morning. somehow it pointed out to him that wrong-doing was a long ladder; that the chained criminals before him had reached the foot; and that he stood on the topmost rung. that was all the difference between them and himself--a difference of degree, not of principle. pushing his way a little closer to these men, he found that his was not the only heart that pitied them. his friend, the younger lady, was there speaking to them. he could not hear what she said, for the noise drowned her voice; but her earnest, eager look and her gesticulations told well enough that she was pointing them to the saviour of sinners-- with what effect, of course, he could not tell, but it was evident that the prisoners at least gave her their attention. leaving her thus engaged, miles continued for a considerable time his progress through the ship. afterwards he observed, by a movement among the men, that a detachment was about to land. indeed he found that some of the soldiers had already landed, and were making their way to the coffee-shed. following these quickly to the same place, he found that innumerable cups of hot coffee and solid slices of bread and butter were being served out as fast as they could be filled and cut. a large hole or window opened in the side of the shed, the shutter of which was hinged at the bottom, and when let down formed a convenient counter. behind this counter stood the two ubiquitous ladies of the institute acting the part of barmaids, as if to the manner born, and with the same business-like, active, yet modest, ready-for-anything air which marked all their proceedings. and truly their post was no sinecure. to supply the demands of hundreds of hungry and thirsty warriors was not child's-play. inside the shed, miles found his friend brown busy with a mighty caldron of hot water, numerous packets of coffee, and immense quantities of sugar and preserved milk. brown was the fountain-head. the ladies were the distributing pipes--if we may say so; and although the fountain produced can after can of the coveted liquid with amazing rapidity, and with a prodigality of material that would have made the hair of a private housewife stand on end, it was barely possible to keep pace with the demand. at a large table one of the missionaries of the institute cut up and buttered loaves at a rate which gave the impression that he was a conjurer engaged in a species of sleight-of-hand. the butter, however, troubled him, for, the weather being cold, it was hard, and would not spread easily. to overcome this he put a pound or so of it on a plate beside the boiler-fire to soften. unfortunately, he temporarily forgot it, and on afterwards going for it, found that it had been reduced to a yellow liquid. however, hungry soldiers, rejoicing in the fact of having at last reached home, are not particular. some of them, unaccustomed, no doubt, to be served by ladies, asked for their supply deferentially, accepted it politely, and drank it with additional appreciation. "we want more, brown," said one of the ladies, glancing back over her shoulder as she poured out the last drop from her large jug; "and more buns and bread, please." "here you are, miss," cried brown, who was warm by that time in spite of the weather, as he bore his brimming and steaming pitcher to the window--or hole in the wall--and replenished the jugs. "the buns are all done, an' the bread won't hold out long, but i've sent for more; it won't be long. i see we shall need several more brews," he added, as he turned again towards the inexhaustible boiler. "shall i assist you?" said miles, stepping into the shed and seizing a loaf and a knife. "thank you. go ahead," said brown. "put another lump of butter near the fire," said the missionary to our hero; "not too close. i melted the last lump altogether." "a cup o' coffee for my terence, an' wan for mesilf, my dear," exclaimed a loud voice outside. there was no mistaking the speaker. some of the men who crowded round the counter laughed, others partially choked, when the strapping terence said in a hoarse whisper, "whist, mother, be civil; don't ye see that it's ladies, no less, is sarvin' of us?" "please, ma'am, can i 'ave some coffee?" asked a modest soldier's wife, who looked pale and weary after the long voyage, with three children to look after. a cup was promptly supplied, and three of the newly-arrived buns stopped the mouths of her clamorous offspring. "can ye give me a cup o' tea?" demanded another soldier's wife, who was neither so polite nor so young as the previous applicant. it is probable that the ladies did not observe the nature of her demand, else they would doubtless have explained that they had no tea, but a cup of coffee was silently handed to her. "ah! this is _real_ home-tea, this is," she said, smacking her lips after the first sip. "a mighty difference 'tween this an' what we've bin used to in the ship." "yes, indeed," assented her companion. whether it was tea she had been accustomed to drink on board the troop-ship we cannot tell, but probably she was correct as to the "mighty difference." it may be that the beverages supplied in foreign lands had somewhat damaged the power of discrimination as to matters of taste in these soldiers' wives. at all events an incident which occurred about the same time justifies this belief. "mr miles," said the missionary, pausing a moment to wipe his brow in the midst of his labours, "will you fetch the butter now?" miles turned to obey with alacrity--with too much alacrity, indeed, for in his haste he knocked the plate over, and sent the lump of butter into the last prepared "brew" of coffee! "hallo! i say!" exclaimed brown, in consternation. "more coffee, brown," demanded the ladies simultaneously, at that inauspicious moment. "yes, miss, i--i'm coming--directly," cried brown. "do be quick, please!" "what's to be done?" said brown, making futile endeavours to fish out the slippery mass with the stirring-stick. "shove it down and stir it well about," suggested miles. whether conscience was inoperative at that moment we know not, but brown acted on the suggestion, and briskly amalgamated the butter with the coffee, while the crowd at the port-hole politely but continuously demanded more. "don't be in a 'urry, tom," cried a corporal, removing his pith helmet in order to run his fingers through his hair; "it's a 'eavenly state o' things now to what it was a few years ago, w'en we an' our poor wives 'ad to sit 'ere for hours in the heat or cold, wet or dry, without shelter, or a morsel to eat, or a drop to drink, till we got away up town to the grog-shops." "well, this _is_ civilisation at last!" remarked a handsome and hearty young fellow, who had apparently been ignorant of the treat in store for him, and who sauntered up to the shed just as the butter-brew was beginning to be served out. "why, i declare, it's chocolate!" exclaimed one of the women, who had been already served with a cup, and had resolved to "go in," as she said, for another pennyworth. "so it is. my! ain't it nice?" said her companion, smacking her lips. whether the soldiers fell into the same mistake, or were too polite to take notice of it, we cannot tell, for they drank it without comment, and with evident satisfaction, like men of simple tastes and uncritical minds. we turn now to a very different scene. in one of the private sitting-rooms of the institute sat poor young mrs martin, the very embodiment of blank despair. the terrible truth that her husband had died, and been buried at sea, had been gently and tenderly broken to her by miss robinson. at first the poor girl could not--would not--believe it. then, as the truth gradually forced itself into her brain, she subsided into a tearless, expressionless, state of quiescence that seemed to indicate a mind unhinged. in this state she remained for some time, apparently unconscious of the kind words of christian love that were addressed to her. at last she seemed to rouse herself and gazed wildly round the room. "let me go," she said. "i will find him somewhere. don't hinder me, please." "but you cannot go anywhere till you have had food and rest, dear child," said her sympathetic comforter, laying her hand gently on the girl's arm. "come with me." she sought to lead her away, but the girl shook her off. "no," she exclaimed, starting up hastily, so that the mass of her dark hair fell loose upon her shoulders, contrasting forcibly with the dead whiteness of her face and lips. "no. i cannot go with you. fred will be getting impatient. d'you think i'll ever believe it? dead and buried in the sea? never!" even while she spoke, the gasp in her voice, and the pressure of both hands on her poor heart, told very plainly that the young widow did indeed believe it. "oh! may god himself comfort you, dear child," said the lady, taking her softly by the hand. "come--come with me." mrs martin no longer refused. her spirit, which had flashed up for a moment, seemed to collapse, and without another word of remonstrance she meekly suffered herself to be guided to a private room, where she was put to bed. she never rose from that bed. friendless, and without means, she would probably have perished in the streets, or in one of the dens of portsmouth, had she not been led to this refuge. as it was, they nursed her there, and did all that human skill and christian love could devise; but her heart was broken. towards the end she told them, in a faint voice, that her fred had been stationed at alexandria, and that while there he had been led to put his trust in the saviour. she knew nothing of the details. all these, and much more, she had expected to hear from his own lips. "but he will tell me all about it soon, thank god!" were the last words she uttered as she turned her eyes gratefully on the loving strangers who had found and cared for her in the dark day of her calamity. chapter five. difficulties met and overcome. miles and his friend brown, after their work at the jetty, had chanced to return to the institute at the moment referred to in the last chapter, when the poor young widow, having become resigned, had been led through the passage to her bedroom. our hero happened to catch sight of her face, and it made a very powerful impression on him--an impression which was greatly deepened afterwards on hearing of her death. in the reception-room he found armstrong still in earnest conversation with his wife. "hallo, armstrong! still here? have you been sitting there since i left you?" he asked, with a smile and look of surprise. "oh no!" answered his friend; "not all the time. we have been out walking about town, and we have had dinner here--an excellent feed, let me tell you, and cheap too. but where did you run off to?" "sit down and i'll tell you," said miles. thereupon he related all about his day's experiences. when he had finished, armstrong told him that his own prospect of testing the merits of a troop-ship were pretty fair, as he was ordered for inspection on the following day. "so you see," continued the young soldier, "if you are accepted--as you are sure to be--you and i will go out together in the same vessel." "i'm glad to hear that, anyhow," returned miles. "and _i_ am very glad too," said little emily, with a beaming smile, "for willie has told me about you, mr miles; and how you first met and took a fancy to each other; and it _will_ be so nice to think that there's somebody to care about my willie when he is far away from me." the little woman blushed and half-laughed, and nearly cried as she said this, for she felt that it was rather a bold thing to say to a stranger, and yet she had such a strong desire to mitigate her husband's desolation when absent from her that she forcibly overcame her modesty. "and i want you to do me a favour, mr miles," she added. "i'll do it with pleasure," returned our gallant hero. "i want you to call him willie," said the little woman, blushing and looking down. "certainly i will--if your husband permits me." "you see," she continued, "i want him to keep familiar with the name i've been used to call him--for comrades will call him armstrong, i suppose, and--" "oh! emmy," interrupted the soldier reproachfully, "do you think i require to be _kept in remembrance_ of that name? won't your voice, repeating it, haunt me day and night till the happy day when i meet you again on the portsmouth jetty, or may-hap in this very room?" miles thought, when he heard this speech, of the hoped-for meeting between poor mrs martin and her fred; and a feeling of profound sadness crept over him as he reflected how many chances there were against their ever again meeting in this world. naturally these thoughts turned his mind to his own case. his sinful haste in quitting home, and the agony of his mother on finding that he was really gone, were more than ever impressed on him, but again the fatal idea that what was done could not be undone, coupled with pride and false shame, kept him firm to his purpose. that evening, in barracks, miles was told by his company sergeant to hold himself in readiness to appear before the doctor next morning for inspection as to his physical fitness for active service in egypt. our hero was by this time beginning to find out that the life of a private soldier, into which he had rushed, was a very different thing indeed from that of an officer--to which he had aspired. here again pride came to his aid--in a certain sense,--for if it could not reconcile him to his position, it at all events closed his mouth, and made him resolve to bear the consequences of his act like a man. in the morning he had to turn out before daylight, and with a small band of men similarly situated, to muster in the drill-shed a little after eight. thence they marched to the doctor's quarters. it was an anxious ordeal for all of them; for, like most young soldiers, they were enthusiastically anxious to go on active service, and there was, of course, some uncertainty as to their passing the examination. the first man called came out of the inspection room with a beaming countenance, saying that he was "all right," which raised the hopes and spirits of the rest; but the second appeared after inspection with a woe-begone countenance which required no interpretation. no reason was given for his rejection; he was simply told that it would be better for him not to go. miles was the third called. as he presented himself, the doctor yawned vociferously, as if he felt that the hour for such work was unreasonably early. then he looked at his subject with the critical air of a farmer inspecting a prize ox. "how old are you?" he asked. "nineteen, sir." "are you married?" miles smiled. "did you hear me?" asked the doctor sharply. "you don't need to smile. many a boy as long-legged and as young as you is fool enough to marry. are you married?" miles flushed, looked suddenly stern, squared his shoulders, drew himself up with an air that implied, "you won't catch _me_ tripping again;" and said firmly, yet quite respectfully-- "no, sir." the doctor here took another good look at his subject, with a meaning twinkle in his eye, as if he felt that he had touched a tender point. then he felt his victim's pulse, sounded his chest, and ordered him to strip. being apparently satisfied with the result of his examination, he asked him if he "felt all right." reflecting that his mother had often told him he was made up of body, soul, and spirit, and that in regard to the latter two he was rather hazy, miles felt strongly inclined for a moment to say, "certainly not," but, thinking better of it, he answered, "yes, sir," with decision. "have you anything to complain of?" asked the doctor. the mind of our hero was what we may style rapidly reflective. in regard to the decrees of fate, things in general, and his father's conduct in particular, he had a decided wish to complain, but again he laid restraint on himself and said, "no, sir." "and do you wish to go to egypt?" "yes, sir!" was answered with prompt decision. "then you may go," said the doctor, turning away with an air of a man who dismisses a subject from his mind. when all the men had thus passed the medical examination, those of them who were accepted mustered their bags and kits before captain lacey, commander of the company to which they were attached, and those who wanted anything were allowed to draw it from the stores. captain lacey was a fine specimen of a british soldier--grave, but kind in expression and in heart; tall, handsome, powerful, about thirty years of age, with that urbanity of manner which wins affection at first sight, and that cool, quiet decision of character which inspires unlimited confidence. as the troop-ship which was to convey them to egypt was to start sooner than had been intended, there was little time for thought during the few hours in england that remained to the regiment. the men had to draw their pith helmets, and fit the ornaments thereon; then go the quartermaster's stores to be fitted with white clothing, after which they had to parade before the colonel, fully arrayed in the martial habiliments which were needful in tropical climes. besides these matters there were friends to be seen, in some cases relatives to be parted from, and letters innumerable to be written. miles milton was among those who, on the last day in portsmouth, attempted to write home. he had been taken by sergeant gilroy the previous night to one of the institute entertainments in the great hall. the sergeant had tried to induce him to go to the bible-class with him, but miles was in no mood for that at the time, and he was greatly relieved to find that neither the sergeant nor any of the people of the institute annoyed him by thrusting religious matters on his attention. food, lodging, games, library, baths, bible-classes, prayer-meetings, entertainments were all there to be used or let alone as he chose; perfect freedom of action being one of the methods by which it was sought to render the place attractive to the soldiers. but although miles at once refused to go to the class, he had no objection to go to the entertainment. it was a curious mixture of song, recitation, addresses, and readings, in which many noble sentiments were uttered, and not a few humorous anecdotes and incidents related. it was presided over by tufnell, the manager, a soldierly-looking man, who had himself originally been in the army, and who had, for many years, been miss robinson's right-hand man. there could not have been fewer than a thousand people in the hall, a large proportion of whom were red-coats and blue-jackets, the rest being civilians; and the way in which these applauded the sentiments, laughed at the humour, and rejoiced in the music, showed that the provision for their amusement was thoroughly appreciated. whether it was the feeling of good-fellowship and sympathy that pervaded the meeting, or some word that was dropped at a venture and found root in his heart, miles could not tell, but certain it is that at that entertainment he formed the resolution to write home before leaving. not that he had yet repented of the step he had taken, but he was sorry for the manner in which he had done so, and for allowing so much time to elapse that now the opportunity of seeing his parents before starting was lost. as it was impossible for him to write his letter in the noise of the barrack-room, he went off next day to the reading-room of the institute, and there, with no other sounds to disturb him than the deep breathing of some studious red-coats, and the chirping pen of a comrade engaged like himself, he began to write. but his thoughts somehow would not work. his pen would not write. he even fancied that it had a sort of objection to spell. so it had, when not properly guided by his hesitating hand. the first part went swimmingly enough:-- "dearest mother, i'm so sorry--" but here he stopped, for the memory of his father's severity re-aroused his indignation, and he felt some doubt as to whether he really was sorry. then, under the impulse of this doubt, he wrote a long letter, in imagination, in which he defended his conduct pretty warmly, on the ground that he had been driven to it. "driven to what?" asked something within him. "to the course which i have taken and am now defending," replied something-else within him hotly. "then the course was a wrong one, else you wouldn't have to defend it!" rejoined the first something. "well--yes--n-no, it wasn't," returned the second something doggedly. before this internal dispute could be carried further, miles was aroused by a sudden burst of noisy voices, as if a lunatic asylum had been let loose into the hall below. rising quickly, he hurried down with his studious comrades to see what it could be all about. "it's only another troop-ship come in, and they've all come up here without giving us warning to get ready," said tufnell, as he bustled about, endeavouring to introduce order into what appeared to miles to be the reproduction of babel, _minus_ the bricks. the fact was that a troop-ship having arrived rather suddenly, a sergeant had driven up in hot haste from the docks to make arrangements for the reception of the soldiers' wives and children! "look sharp!" he cried, on entering the hall abruptly; "sixteen families are on their way to you." "all right; we can take 'em in," was the prompt reply; and orders were given to set the food-producing machinery of the establishment instantly in motion. but almost before the preparation had fairly begun, the advance-guard of the army, largely composed of infantry, burst upon them like a thunder-clap, and continued to pour in like a torrent. there were men shouting, women chattering, tired children whining, and excited children laughing; babies yelling or crowing miscellaneously; parrots screaming; people running up and down stairs in search of dormitories; plates and cups clattering at the bar, as the overwhelmed barmaids did their best to appease the impatient and supply the hungry; while the rumbling of control-wagons bringing up the baggage formed a sort of bass accompaniment to the concert. "you see, it varies with us a good deal," remarked brown to miles, during a lucid interval, "sometimes we are almost empty, a few hours later we are overflowing. it comes hard on the housekeeper, of course. but we lay our account wi' that, and, do you know, it is wonderful what can be done in trying circumstances, when we lay our account wi' them!-- yes, miss, it's all ready!" shouted the speaker, in reply to a soft female voice that came down the wide staircase, as it were, over the heads of the turbulent crowd. in a moment he disappeared, and tufnell stood, as if by magic, in his place. "yes," said the manager, taking up his discourse where the other had left off; "and in a few minutes you'll see that most of these wives and children of the soldiers will be distributed through the house in their bed-rooms, when our ladies will set to work to make acquaintance with them; and then we'll open our stores of warm clothing, of which the poor things, coming as they do from warm climates, are often nearly or quite destitute." "but where do you get these supplies from?" asked miles. "from kind-hearted christians throughout the country, who send us gifts of old and new garments, boots and shoes, shawls and socks, etcetera, which we have always in readiness to meet sudden demands; and i may add that the demands are pretty constant. brown told you just now that we have varied experience. i remember once we got a message from the assistant quartermaster-general's office to ask how many women and children we could accommodate, as a shipful was expected. we replied that we could take , and set to work with preparations. after all, only one woman came! to-day we expected nobody, and--you see what we have got!" the genial countenance of the manager beamed with satisfaction. it was evident that "what he had got" did not at all discompose him, as he hurried away to look after his flock, while the originator--the heart and soul of all this--although confined to her room at that time with spine complaint, and unable to take part in the active work, as she had been wont to do in years gone by, heard in her chamber the softened sound of the human storm, and was able to thank god that her soldiers' institute was fulfilling its destiny. "hallo! miles!" exclaimed armstrong, over the heads of the crowd; "i've been looking for you everywhere. d'you know we run a chance of being late? come along, quick!" our hero, who, in his interest in the scene, had forgotten the flight of time, hurried out after his comrade as the band struck up "home, sweet home," and returned to barracks, utterly oblivious of the fact that he had left the unfinished letter to his mother on the table in the reading-room. chapter six. the unfinished letter--too late! next morning young milton--or, as he was called by his comrades, john miles--rose with the depressing thought that it was to be his last day in england. as he was dressing, it flashed across him that he had left his unfinished letter on the reading-room table, and, concluding that it would be swept away in the rush of people there--at all events that, not having been folded or addressed, it could not be posted--his depression was deepened. the first thing that roused him to a better frame of mind was the smell of tea! most people are more or less familiar with teapots; with the few teaspoonfuls of the precious leaf which thrifty housekeepers put into these pots, and the fragrant liquid that results. but who among civilians, (save the informed), can imagine a barrack-room teapot? open your ears, o ye thrifty ones! while we state a few facts, and there will be no need to tell you to open your eyes. into the teapot which supplied miles with his morning cup there was put, for _one_ making, eight pounds of tea!--not ounces, observe, but pounds,--twenty-nine pounds of sugar, and six gallons--an absolute cowful--of milk! the pot itself consisted of eight enormous coppers, which were filled with boiling water to the brim. "yes, sir," remarked the military cook, who concocted the beverage, to a speechless visitor one day; "it _is_ a pretty extensive brew; but then, you see, we have a large family!" a considerable portion of this large family was soon actively engaged in preparation for immediate embarkation for egypt. then the general made the men a farewell speech. it was a peculiar speech--not altogether suited to cheer timid hearts, had any such been there, but admirably adapted to british soldiers. "men," said he, "i am very glad to see you parade looking so well and clean and comfortable and ready for active service. you will be dirty enough, sometimes, where you are going, for the country is hot and unhealthy, and not over clean. you will have hardships, hard times, and plenty of hard work, as well as hard beds now and then, and very likely the most of you will never come back again; but you would be unworthy of the name of british soldiers if you allowed such thoughts to trouble your minds. i sincerely express the hope, however, that you will all come home again safe and sound. i have not the slightest doubt that every man of you will do his duty in the field faithfully and well; but i'm not so sure of your wisdom in camp and barracks, so i will give you a word of advice. there is far more danger in getting drunk in hot countries than in england. let me advise you, then, not to get drunk; and i would warn you particularly against the vile stuff they will offer for sale in egypt. it is rank poison. if you had stomachs lined with brass you might perhaps stand it--not otherwise. then i would warn you against the sun. in egypt the sun is sometimes like a fiery furnace. never expose yourself when you can avoid doing so, and, above all, never go outside your tents without your helmets on. if you do, you'll repent it, and repentance will probably come too late. i wish you all a prosperous voyage, and may god keep you all!" delivered in a sharp, stern, unsentimental tone, this brief speech had probably a much more powerful effect on the men than a more elaborate exhortation would have had. the impression was deepened by the remarks of an old officer, who made a very brief, soldierly speech after the general, winding up with the information that he had himself been in egypt, and assuring them that if they did not take care of themselves there was little chance of a man of them returning alive! "may you have a pleasant passage out," he said, in conclusion; "and, in the name of the portsmouth division, i wish you victory in all your battles, and a hearty good-bye." the men who were not going away were then called on to give their departing friends three cheers, which they did with right good-will. captain lacey, who was in charge of the detachment, stepped to the front, drew his sword, gave the order to shoulder arms, form fours, right turn, quick march, and away they went with the united bands of two regiments playing "the girl i left behind me!" the girls they were about to leave behind them were awaiting them at the barrack-gates, with a considerable sprinkling of somewhat older girls to keep them company. many of the poor creatures were in tears for the men whom they might never see again, and lumps in several manly throats rather interfered with the parting cheer delivered by the detachment at the gate. most of them accompanied the soldiers as far as the dockyard gates. emily armstrong was not among them. she had parted the previous night from her husband at his earnest request, and returned by rail to her father's house, there to await, as patiently as she might, the return of her "willie." "noble defenders of our country!" observed an enthusiastic citizen, as they passed through the gates. "food for powder," remarked a sarcastic publican, as he turned away to resume his special work of robbing powder of its food and his country of its defenders. proceeding to the embarkation jetty, the detachment was marched on board the troop-ship, where the men were at once told off to their respective messes, and proceeded without delay to make themselves at home by taking possession of their allotted portion of the huge white-painted fabric that was to bear them over the waves to distant lands. taking off their belts and stowing them overhead, they got hold of their bags, exchanged their smart uniforms for old suits of clothes, and otherwise prepared themselves for the endurance of life on board a transport. to his great satisfaction, miles found that several of the comrades for whom he had by that time acquired a special liking, were appointed to the same mess with himself. among these were his friend willie armstrong, sergeants gilroy and hardy, corporal flynn, a private named gaspard redgrave, who was a capital musician, and had a magnificent tenor voice, robert macleod, a big-boned scotsman, and moses pyne, a long-legged, cadaverous nondescript, who was generally credited with being half-mad, though with a good deal of method in his madness, and who was possessed of gentleness of spirit, and a cheerful readiness to oblige, which seemed a flat contradiction of his personal appearance, and rendered him a general favourite. while these were busy arranging their quarters a soldier passed with several books in his hand, which he had just received from one of the ladies from the institute. "hallo, jack!" cried moses pyne; "have the ladies been aboard?" "of course they have. they've been all over the ship already distributin' books an' good-byes. if you want to see 'em you'll have to look sharp, moses, for they're just goin' on shore." "see 'em!" echoed moses; "of course i wants to see 'em. but for them, i'd be--" the rest of the sentence was lost in the clatter of moses' feet as he stumbled up the ladder-way. remembering his letter at that moment, miles followed him, and reached the gangway just as the visitors were leaving. "excuse me," he said to one of them, stopping her. "oh! i'm so glad to have found you," she said. "i have been looking for you everywhere. miss robinson sent you this little parcel of books, with her best wishes, and hopes that you will read them." "thanks, very much. i will, with pleasure. and will you do me a favour? i left a letter on the reading-room table--" a sudden and peremptory order of some sort caused a rush which separated miles from the visitor and cut short the sentence, and the necessity for the immediate departure of all visitors rendered its being finished impossible. but miss robinson's representative did not require to be told that a forgotten letter could only want posting. on returning, therefore, to the institute, she went at once to the reading-room, where she found no letter! making inquiry, she learned from one of the maids that a sheet of paper had been found with nothing on it but the words, "dearest mother, i'm so sorry"; and that the same had been duly conveyed to miss robinson's room. hasting to the apartment of her friend, she knocked, and was bidden enter. "you have got an unfinished letter, it seems?" she began. "yes; here it is," interrupted miss robinson, handing the sheet to her assistant. "what a pity that it gives no clew to the writer--no address!" "i am pretty sure as to the writer," returned the other. "it must have been that fine-looking young soldier, john miles, of whom we have seen a little and heard so much from sergeant gilroy." hereupon an account was given of the hurried and interrupted meeting on board the troop-ship; and the two ladies came to the conclusion that as nothing was known about the parents or former residence of john miles no steps of any kind were possible. the letter was therefore carefully put by. that same evening there alighted at the railway station in portsmouth an elderly lady with an expression of great anxiety on her countenance, and much perturbation in her manner. "any luggage, ma'am?" asked a sympathetic porter--for railway porters are sometimes more sympathetic than might be expected of men so much accustomed to witness abrupt and tender partings. "no; no luggage. yes--a small valise--in the carriage. that's it." "four-wheeler, ma'am?" "eh! no--yes--yes." "where to, ma'am?" asked the sympathetic porter, after the lady was seated in the cab. "where to?" echoed mrs milton, (for it was she), in great distress. "oh! where--where shall i drive to?" "really, ma'am, i couldn't say," answered the porter, with a modest look. "i've--i--my son! my dear boy! where shall i go to inquire? oh! what _shall_ i do?" these would have been perplexing utterances even to an unsympathetic man. turning away from the window, and looking up at the driver, the porter said solemnly-- "to the best 'otel you know of, cabby, that's not too dear. an' if you've bin gifted with compassion, cabby, don't overcharge your fare." accepting the direction, and exercising his discretion as well as his compassion, that intelligent cabby drove, strange to say, straight to an hotel styled the "officers' house," which is an offshoot of miss robinson's institute, and stands close beside it! "a hofficer's lady," said the inventive cabby to the boy who opened the door. "wants to putt up in this 'ere 'ouse." when poor mrs milton had calmed her feelings sufficiently to admit of her talking with some degree of coherence, she rang the bell and sent for the landlord. mr tufnell, who was landlord of the officers' house, as well as manager of the institute, soon presented himself, and to him the poor lady confided her sorrows. "you see, landlord," she said, whimpering, "i don't know a soul in portsmouth; and--and--in fact i don't even know how i came to your hotel, for i never heard of it before; but i think i must have been sent here, for i see from your looks that you will help me." "you may depend on my helping you to the best of my power, madam. may i ask what you would have me do?" with much earnestness, and not a few tears, poor mrs milton related as much of her son's story as she thought necessary. "well, you could not have come to a better place," said tufnell, "for miss robinson and all her helpers sympathise deeply with soldiers. if any one can find out about your son, _they_ can. how were you led to suspect that he had come to portsmouth?" "a friend suggested that he might possibly have done so. indeed, it seems natural, considering my dear boy's desire to enter the army, and the number of soldiers, who are always passing through this town." "well, i will go at once and make inquiry. the name milton is not familiar to me, but so many come and go that we sometimes forget names." when poor mrs milton was afterwards introduced to miss robinson, she found her both sympathetic and anxious to do her utmost to gain information about her missing son, but the mother's graphic descriptions of him did not avail much. the fact that he was young, tall, handsome, curly-haired, etcetera, applied to so many of the defenders of the country as to be scarcely distinctive enough; but when she spoke of "my dear miles," a new light was thrown on the matter. she was told that a young soldier answering to the description of her son had been there recently, but that his surname--not his christian name--was miles. would she recognise his handwriting? "recognise it?" exclaimed mrs milton, in a blaze of sudden hope. "ay, that i would; didn't i teach him every letter myself? didn't he insist on making his down-strokes crooked? and wasn't my heart almost broken over his square o's?" while the poor mother was speaking, the unfinished letter was laid before her, and the handwriting at once recognised. "that's his! bless him! and he's sorry. didn't i say he would be sorry? didn't i tell his father so? darling miles, i--" here the poor creature broke down, and wept at the thought of her repentant son. it was well, perhaps, that the blow was thus softened, for she almost fell on the floor when her new friend told her, in the gentlest possible manner, that miles had that very day set sail for egypt. they kept her at the institute that night, however, and consoled her much, as well as aroused her gratitude, by telling of the good men who formed part of her son's regiment; and of the books and kind words that had been bestowed on him at parting; and by making the most they could of the good hope that the fighting in egypt would soon be over, and that her son would ere long return to her, god willing, sound and well. chapter seven. miles begins to discover himself--has a few rough experiences--and falls into pea-soup, salt-water, and love. while his mother was hunting for him in portsmouth, miles milton was cleaving his way through the watery highway of the world, at the rate of fifteen knots. he was at the time in that lowest condition of misery, mental and physical, which is not unfrequently the result of "a chopping sea in the channel." it seemed to him, just then, an unbelievable mystery how he could, at any time, have experienced pleasure at the contemplation of food! the heaving of the great white ship was nothing to the heaving-- well, it may perhaps be wiser to refrain from particulars; but he felt that the beating of the two thousand horse-power engines--more or less-- was child's-play to the throbbing of his brain! "and this," he thought, in the bitterness of his soul, "this is what i have sacrificed home, friends, position, prospects in life for! this is--soldiering!" the merest shadow of the power to reason--if such a shadow had been left--might have convinced him that that was _not_ soldiering; that, as far as it went, it was not even sailoring! "you're very bad, i fear," remarked a gentle voice at the side of his hammock. miles looked round. it was good-natured, lanky, cadaverous moses pyne. "who told you i was bad?" asked miles savagely, putting a wrong--but too true--interpretation on the word. "the colour of your cheeks tells me, poor fellow!" "bah!" exclaimed miles. he was too sick to say more. he might have said less with advantage. "shall i fetch you some soup?" asked moses, in the kindness of his heart. moses, you see, was one of those lucky individuals who are born with an incapacity to be sick at sea, and was utterly ignorant of the cruelty he perpetrated. "or some lobscouse?" he added. "go away!" gasped miles. "a basin of--" miles exploded, literally as well as metaphorically, and moses retired. "strange," thought that healthy soldier, as he stalked away on further errands of mercy, stooping as he went to avoid beams--"strange that miles is so changeable in character. i had come to think him a steady, reliable sort of chap." puzzling over this difficulty, he advanced to the side of another hammock, from which heavy groans were issuing. "are you very bad, corporal?" he asked in his usual tone of sympathy. "bad is it?" said flynn. "och! it's worse nor bad i am! couldn't ye ax the captin to heave-to for a--" the suggestive influence of heaving-to was too much for flynn. he pulled up dead. after a few moments he groaned-- "arrah! be off, moses, av ye don't want my fist on yer nose." "extraordinary!" murmured the kindly man, as he removed to another hammock, the occupant of which was differently constituted. "moses," he said, as the visitant approached. "yes, gaspard," was the eager reply, "can i do anything for you?" "yes; if you'd go on deck, refresh yourself with a walk, and leave us all alone, you'll con--fer--on--" gaspard ceased to speak; he had already spoken too much; and moses pyne, still wondering, quietly took his advice. but if the channel was bad, the bay of biscay was, according to flynn, "far badder." before reaching that celebrated bay, however, most of the men had recovered, and, with more or less lugubrious aspects and yellow-green complexions, were staggering about, attending to their various duties. no doubt their movements about the vessel were for some time characterised by that disagreement between action and will which is sometimes observed in feeble chickens during a high wind, but, on the whole, activity and cheerfulness soon began to re-animate the frames and spirits of britain's warriors. and now miles milton began to find out, as well as to fix, in some degree, his natural character. up to this period in his life, a mild existence in a quiet home, under a fairly good though irascible father and a loving christian mother, had not afforded him much opportunity of discovering what he was made of. recent events had taught him pretty sharply that there was much room for improvement. he also discovered that he possessed a very determined will in the carrying out of his intentions, especially when those intentions were based upon his desires. whether he would be equally resolute in carrying out intentions that did _not_ harmonise with his desires remained to be seen. his mother, among her other teachings, had often tried to impress on his young mind the difference between obstinacy and firmness. "my boy," she was wont to say, while smoothing his curly head, "don't mistake obstinacy for firmness. a man who says `i _will_ do this or that in spite of all the world,' against advice, and simply because he _wants_ to do it, is obstinate. a man who says, `i _will_ do this or that in spite of all the world,' against advice, against his own desires, and simply because it is the right thing to do, is firm." remembering this, and repenting bitterly his having so cruelly forsaken his mother, our hero cast about in his mind how best he could put some of her precepts into practice, as being the only consolation that was now possible to him. you see, the good seed sown in those early days was beginning to spring up in unlikely circumstances. of course the habit of prayer, and reading a few verses from the bible night and morning, recurred to him. this had been given up since he left home. he now resumed it, though, for convenience, he prayed while stretched in his hammock! but this did not satisfy him. he must needs undertake some disagreeable work, and carry it out with that degree of obstinacy which would amount to firmness. after mature consideration, he sought and obtained permission to become one of the two cooks to his mess. moses pyne was the other. nothing, he felt, could be more alien to his nature, more disgusting in every way to his feelings--and he was right. his dislike to the duties seemed rather to increase than to diminish day by day. bitterly did he repent of having undertaken the duty, and earnestly did he consider whether there might not be some possible and honourable way of drawing back, but he discovered none; and soon he proved--to himself as well as to others--that he did indeed possess, at least in some degree, firmness of character. the duties that devolved on him were trying. he had to scrub and keep the mess clean and tidy; to draw all the provisions and prepare them for cooking; then, to take them to the galley, and fetch them when cooked. that this last was no simple matter, such as any shore-going tail-coated waiter might undertake, was brought forcibly out one day during what seamen style dirty weather. it was raining at the time. the sea was grey, the sky was greyer, and as the steamer itself was whitey-grey, it was a grave business altogether. "is the soup ready, moses?" asked miles, as he ascended towards the deck and met his _confrere_ coming down. "i don't know. shall i go an' see?" "no; you can go and look after the table. i will fetch the soup." "a nasty sea on," remarked a voice, which sounded familiar in miles's ears as he stepped on deck. "hallo! jack molloy!" he exclaimed, catching hold of a stanchion to steady himself, as a tremendous roll of the vessel caused a sea to flash over the side and send a shower-bath in his face. "what part of the sky did you drop from? i thought i had left you snug in the _sailors' welcome_." "werry likely you did, john miles," answered the tar, balancing himself with perfect ease, and caring no more for spray than if he had been a dolphin; "but i'm here for all that--one o' the crew o' this here transport, though i means to wolunteer for active sarvice when i gets out. an' no wonder we didn't come across each other sooner! in sitch a enormous tubful o' lobsters, etceterer, it's a wonder we've met at all. an' p'r'aps you've bin a good deal under hatches since you come a-boord?" molloy said this with a knowing look and a grin. miles met the remark in a similar spirit. "yes, jack, i've been paying tribute to neptune lately." "you looks like it, miles, judgin' by the colour o' your jib. where away now?" "going for our soup." "what! made you cook o' the mess?" "ay; don't you wish you were me?" another roll and flash of spray ended the conversation and separated the friends. the pea-soup was ready when our hero reached the galley. having filled the mess-tureen with the appetising mixture, he commenced the return journey with great care, for he was now dependent entirely on his legs, both hands being engaged. miles was handy, if we may say so, with his legs. once or twice he had to rush and thrust a shoulder against the bulwarks, and a dash of spray served for salt to the soup; but he was progressing favourably and had traversed full three-quarters of the distance to the hatch when a loud "hooroo!" caused him to look round smartly. he had just time to see corporal flynn, who had slipped and fallen, come rolling towards him like a sack of flour. next moment he was swept off his legs, and went into the lee scuppers with his comrade in a bath of pea-soup and salt-water! fortunately, the obliging wave which came in-board at the same moment mingled with the soup, and saved both men from a scalding. such mishaps, however, were rare, and they served rather to enliven the voyage than otherwise. besides the duties already mentioned, our hero had to wash up all the dishes and other things at meal-hours; to polish up the mess-kettles and tin dishes; and, generally, to put things away in their places, and keep things in apple-pie order. recollecting another of his mother's teachings--"whatever is worth doing at all is worth doing well"--he tried his best, and was so ably seconded by the amiable moses, that the miles-moses mess came to be at last regarded as the best-kept one on board. one morning, after clearing up the dishes and putting things in order, miles went on deck for a little fresh air. on the way up he met an elderly gentleman whose dress proclaimed him a clergyman. he looked earnestly at our hero, and, nodding kindly, spoke a few words to him in passing. miles had been aware that there was a clergyman on board going out to egypt with his family--whether in connection with the troops or for health he did not know. he was much impressed with the looks and expression of this man. it seemed to him as if there were some sort of attractive power about him which was unaccountably strong, and he felt quite interested in the prospect of hearing him preach on the following sunday. while on deck the previous day, he had seen the figures of two ladies, whom he rightly judged to be the family above referred to, but as there was nearly the whole distance of the ship's length between them, he could not distinguish their faces. on taking his place when sunday came, he observed that the family were present, seated, however, in such a position that he could only see their backs. speculating in a listless way as to what sort of faces they had, he whiled away the few minutes before the service began. he was recalled from this condition by the tones of the clergyman's voice, which seemed to have the same effect on him as his look and manner had the day they first met. during the sermon miles's attention was riveted, insomuch that he almost forgot where he was. the text was a familiar one--"god is love,"--but the treatment of it seemed entirely new: the boundless nature of that love; its incomprehensible and almighty force; its enduring certainty and its overwhelming immensity, embracing, as it did, the whole universe in christ, were themes on which the preacher expatiated in a way that miles had never before dreamed of. "all subordinate love," said the preacher, in concluding, "has its source in this. no wonder, then, that it is spoken of in scripture as a love `which passeth knowledge.'" when the men rose to leave, it could be easily seen that they were deeply impressed. as they went out slowly, miles passed close to the place where the ladies sat. the slighter of the two was talking in a low tone to her companion, and the young soldier was struck with the wonderful resemblance in her tone to that of the preacher. he wondered if her face also resembled his in any degree, and glanced back, but the head was turned away. "i like that parson. he has got _brains_," remarked sergeant hardy, as he walked along the deck with sergeant gilroy and corporal flynn. "sur' an' i like him too," said the corporal, "for he's got _heart_!" "heart and brains," returned gilroy: "a grand combination! what more could we want?" "don't you think that _tongue_ is also essential?" asked miles. "but for the preacher's eloquence his heart and brain would have worked in vain." "come now, john miles, don't you be risin' up into poethry. it's not yer natur--though ye think it is. besides, av a man's heart an' brains is all right, he can make good use of 'em widout much tongue. me own notion is that it's thim as hasn't got much to spake of, aither of heart or brain, as is over-fond o' waggin' the tongue." "that's so, flynn. you're a living example of the truth of your own opinion," retorted miles. "och! is it angered ye are at gittin' the worst o' the argiment?" rejoined the corporal. "niver mind, boy, you'll do better by and by--" as flynn descended the ladder while he spoke, the sense of what he said was lost, but the truth of his opinion still continued to receive illustration from the rumbling of his voice, until it was swallowed up in the depths of the vessel. next day our hero received a shock from which he never finally recovered! be not alarmed, reader; it was not paralytic in its nature. it happened on this wise: miles had occasion to go to the fore part of the ship on some culinary business, without his coat, and with his sleeves rolled up above his elbows. arrived there, he found that the captain was taking the ladies round the ship to point out some of its interesting details. as miles came up, the younger lady turned round so as to present her full face to him. it was then that poor miles received the shock above referred to. at that moment a little boy with wings and a bow stepped right in front of the young lady and shot straight at miles milton! the arrow entered his heart, and he--no, he did not fall; true men in such circumstances never fall! they stand transfixed, sometimes, or stupefied. thus stood miles and stared. yes, though naturally modest and polite, he stood and stared! and small blame to him, as flynn might have said, for before him stood his ideal of a fairy, an angel, a sylph--or anything beautiful that best suits your fancy, reader! sunny hair, sunny eyes--earnest and inquiring eyes--sunny smiles, and eyebrows to match. yes, she had eyebrows distinctly darker than her hair, and well-defined over a pair of large brown eyes. poor miles was stricken, as we have said; but--would you believe it?-- there were men there looking at that girl at that time who, to use their own phraseology, would not have accepted a dozen of her for the girls they had left behind them! one young fellow in particular murmured to himself as follows--"yes, very well in her way, no doubt, but she couldn't hold a candle to my emmy!" perhaps the most cutting remark of all--made mentally, of course--was that of sergeant grady, who, for reasons best known to himself, had left a wife, describable as a stout well-favoured girl of forty, behind him. "in twenty years or so," he thought, "she may perhaps be near as good-lookin' as my susy, but she'll never come quite up to her--never!" "come this way, mrs drew," said the captain. "i will show you the men's quarters. out of the way, my man!" flushing to the roots of his hair, miles stepped hastily aside. as he did so there was heard an awful rend of a sort that tests the temper of women! it was followed by a musical scream. the girl's dress had caught on a block tackle. miles leaped forward and unhooked it. he was rewarded with a smiling "thank you," which was followed by a blush of confusion as miss drew's mother exclaimed, "oh! marion--how _could_ you?" by way of making things easier for her, no doubt! "you did that, young man, about as smart as i could a' done it myself," growled a voice behind him. the speaker was jack molloy, and a general titter followed miles as he hurried away. as we have said, the weather became much worse when the troop-ship drew near to the bay of biscay; and it soon became evident that they were not to cross that famous portion of the atlantic, without experiencing some of the violent action for which it is famed. but by that time most of the soldiers, according to molloy, had got their sea-legs on, and rather enjoyed the tossing than otherwise. "i do like this sort o' thing," said a beardless young fellow, as a number of the men sat on camp-stools, or stood on the weather-side of the deck, chatting together about past times and future prospects. "ha!" exclaimed a seaman, who stood near them coiling up a rope; "hold on till you've got a taste o' the bay. this is a mill-pond to that. and you'll have the chance to-night. if you don't, i'm a dutchman." "if i do, you'll have a taste of it too, old salt-water, for we're in the same boat," retorted the young red-coat. "true, but we ain't in the same body;" returned the sailor. "i should just like to see your four-futt legs wobblin' about in a nor'-west gale. you'd sing another song." "come, macleod," cried moses pyne, "tip us a gaelic song." "hoots, man, wull ye be wantin' to be made sea-seek?--for that's what'll do it," said the big scotsman. "na, na, let gaspard sing us `the bay o' biscay o!' that'll be mair appropriate." there was a general chorus of assent to this; and as gaspard redgrave was an obliging man, untroubled by false modesty, he cleared his throat and began. his voice, being a really splendid one, attracted all the men who chanced to be within range of it: among others, miles, who was passing at the moment with a bag of biscuits in one hand and a meat-can in the other. he leaned up against one of those funnels which send fresh air down to the stokers of steam-ships. he had listened only a few moments when marion drew glided amongst the men, and seemed to stand as if entranced with delight in front of him, steadying herself by a rope, for the vessel was pitching a good deal as well as rolling considerably. at the first chorus the crowd burst forth with wild enthusiasm-- "as we lay, on that day, in the bay of biscay o!" dwelling with unnecessary length and emphasis on the "o!" at the close of the second verse the men were preparing to burst forth again when miles observed an approaching billow which caused him to start in alarm. although unused to the aspect of waves, he had an instinctive feeling that there was danger approaching. voices of warning were promptly raised from different parts of the vessel, but already the loud chorus had begun and drowned every other sound. miles dropped his biscuits and sprang towards marion, who, with flashing eyes and parted lips, was gazing at gaspard. he just reached her when the wave burst over the side, and, catching most of the men quite unprepared, swept them with terrible violence towards the lee-side of the deck. marion was standing directly in the line of this human cataract, but miles swung her deftly round into the lee of the funnel, a handle of which she happily caught, and clung to it like a limpet. her preserver was not so fortunate. the edge of the cataract struck him, swept him off his legs, and hurled him with many comrades against the lee bulwarks, where he lay stunned and helpless in the swishing water. of course soldiers and sailors ran from all parts of the vessel to the rescue, and soon the injured men were carried below and attended to by the doctors; and, considering the nature of the accident, it was matter for surprise that the result was no worse than some pretty severe contusions and a few broken ribs. when miles recovered consciousness, he found himself in his hammock, with considerable pain in various parts of his body, and the reverend james drew bending over him. "you're all right now, my fine fellow," he said, in a low comforting voice. "no bones broken, so the doctors say. only a little bruised." "tell me, sir," said miles, rousing himself, "is--is your daughter safe?" "yes, thanks be to god, and to your prompt assistance, she is none the worse--save the fright and a wetting." miles sank back on his pillows with a feeling of profound satisfaction. "now, you must try to sleep if you can," said the clergyman; "it will do you good." but miles did not want anything to do him good. he was quite content to lie still and enjoy the simple fact that he had rescued marion, perhaps from death--at all events from serious injury! as for pain--what was that to him? was he not a soldier--one whose profession requires him to suffer _anything_ cheerfully in the discharge of duty! and was not love the highest duty? on the strength of some such thoughts he forgot his pain and calmly went to sleep. chapter eight. has reference to many things connected with mind, matter, and affections. the wave which had burst with such disastrous effect on the deck of the troop-ship was but the herald of one of those short, wild storms which occasionally sweep with desolating violence over the atlantic ocean, and too frequently strew with wreck the western shores of europe. in the bay of biscay, as usual, the power of the gale was felt more severely than elsewhere. "there's some sort o' mystery about the matter," said jack molloy to william armstrong, as they cowered together under the shelter of the bridge. "why the atlantic should tumble into this 'ere bay with greater wiolence than elsewhere is beyond my comprehension. but any man wi' half an eye can see that it _do_ do it! jist look at that!" there was something indeed to look at, for, even while he spoke, a mighty wave tumbled on board of the vessel, rushed over the fore deck like niagara rapids in miniature, and slushed wildly about for a considerable time before it found its way through the scuppers, into the grey wilderness of heaving billows from which it sprang. the great ship quivered, and seemed for a moment to stagger under the blow, while the wind shrieked through the rigging as if laughing at the success of its efforts, but the whitey-grey hull rose heavily, yet steadily, out of the churning foam, rode triumphant over the broad-backed billow that had struck her, and dived ponderously into the valley of waters beyond. "don't you think," said the young soldier, whose general knowledge was a little more extensive than that of the seaman, "that the gulf stream may have something to do with it?" molloy looked at the deck with philosophically solemn countenance. deriving no apparent inspiration from that quarter, he gazed on the tumultuous chaos of salt-water with a perplexed expression. finally and gravely he shook his weather-beaten head-- "can't see that nohow," he said. "in course i knows that the gulf stream comes out the gulf o' mexico, cuts across the atlantic in a nor'-easterly direction, goes slap agin the west of england, ireland, and scotland, and then scurries away up the coast o' norway--though _why_ it should do so is best known to itself; p'r'aps it's arter the fashion of an angry woman, accordin' to its own sweet will; but what has that got for to do wi' the bay of biscay o? that's wot i wants to know." "more to do with it than you think, jack," answered the soldier. "in the first place, you're not quite, though partly, correct about the gulf stream--" "well, i ain't zactly a scienkrific stoodent, you know. don't purfess to be." "just so, jack. neither am i, but i have inquired into this matter in a general way, an' here's _my_ notions about it." "draw it fine, willum; don't be flowery," said the sailor, renewing his quid. "moreover, if you'll take the advice of an old salt you'll keep a tighter grip o' that belayin'-pin you've got hold of, unless you wants to be washed overboard. now then, fire away! i'm all attention, as the cat said at the mouth o' the mouse-hole." "well, then," began armstrong, with the slightly conscious air of superior knowledge, "the gulf stream does _not_ rise in the gulf of mexico--" "did i say that it did, willum?" "well, you said that it _came out of_ the gulf of mexico--and, no doubt, so far you are right, but what i mean is that it does not originate there." "w'y don't you say what you mean, then, willum, instead o' pitchin' into a poor chap as makes no pretence to be a purfessor? heave ahead!" "well, jack," continued the soldier, with more care as to his statements, "i believe, on the best authority, that the gulf stream is only part of a great ocean current which originates at the equator, and a small bit of which flows north into the atlantic, where it drives into the gulf of mexico. finding no outlet there it rushes violently round the gulf--" "gits angry, no doubt, an' that's what makes it hot?" suggested the sailor. "perhaps! anyhow, it then flows, as you say, in a nor'-easterly direction to the coasts of great britain and ireland. but it does more than that. it spreads as it goes, and also rushes straight at the coasts of france and spain. here, however, it meets a strong counter current running south along these same coasts of france an' spain. that is difficulty number one. it has to do battle wi' that current, and you know, jack, wherever there's a battle there's apt to be convulsions of some sort. well, then, a nor'-westerly gale comes on and rolls the whole o' the north atlantic ocean against these coasts. so here you have this part of the gulf stream caught in another direction--on the port quarter, as you sailors might call it--" "never mind wot us sailors might call it, willum. wotever you say on that pint you're sure to be wrong. heave ahead!" "well, then," continued armstrong, with a laugh, "that's trouble number two; and these troubles, you'll observe, apply to the whole west coast of both countries; but in the bay of biscay there is still another difficulty, for when these rushing and tormented waters try to escape, they are met fair in the face by the whole north coast of spain, and thus--" "_i_ sees it!" exclaimed molloy, with a sudden beam of intelligence, "you've hit the nail on the head, willum. gulf stream flies at france in a hot rage, finds a cool current, or customer, flowin' down south that shouts `belay there!' at it they go, tooth an' nail, when down comes a nor'-wester like a wolf on the fold, takes the stream on the port quarter, as you say, an' drives both it an' the cool customer into the bay, where the north o' spain cries `avast heavin', both o' you!' an' drives 'em back to where the nor'-wester's drivin' 'em on! no wonder there's a mortal hullaballoo in the bay o' biscay! why, mate, where got ye all that larnin'?" before his friend could reply, a terrific plunge of the vessel, a vicious shriek of the wind, and the entrance of another tremendous sea, suggested that the elements were roused to unusual fury at having the secrets of their operations thus ruthlessly revealed, and also suggested the propriety of the two friends seeking better shelter down below. while this storm was raging, miles lay in his hammock, subjected to storms of the bosom with occasional calms between. he was enjoying one of the calms when armstrong passed his hammock and asked how he was getting on. "very well, willie. soon be all right, i think," he replied, with a contented smile. for at that moment he had been dwelling on the agreeable fact that he had really rescued marion drew from probable death, and that her parents gratefully recognised the service--as he learned from the clergyman himself, who expressed his gratitude in the form of frequent visits to and pleasant chats with the invalid. the interest and sympathy which miles had felt on first seeing this man naturally increased, and at last he ventured to confide to him the story of his departure from home, but said nothing about the changed name. it is needless to relate all that was said on the occasion. one can easily imagine the bearing of a good deal of it. the result on miles was not very obvious at the time, but it bore fruit after many days. the calm in our hero's breast was not, however, of long duration. the thought that, as a private in a marching regiment, he had not the means to maintain marion, in the social position to which she had been accustomed, was a very bitter thought, and ruffled the sea of his feelings with a stiff breeze. this freshened to something like a gale of rebellion when he reflected that his case was all but hopeless; for, whatever might have been the truth of the statement regarding the french army under napoleon, that "every soldier carried a marshal's baton in his knapsack," it did not follow that soldiers in the british army of the present day carried commissions in _their_ knapsacks. indeed, he knew it was by no means a common thing for men to rise from the ranks, and he was well aware that those who did so were elevated in virtue of qualities which he did not possess. he was in the midst of one of his bosom storms when sergeant hardy came to inquire how he did. somehow the quiet, grave, manly nature of that sergeant had a powerful effect, not only on miles but on every one with whom he came in contact. it was not so much his words as his manner that commended him. he was curiously contradictory, so to speak, in character and appearance. the stern gravity of his countenance suggested a hard nature, but lines of good-humour lurking about the eyes and mouth put to flight the suggestion, and acts of womanly tenderness on many occasions turned the scale the other way. a strong, tall, stiffly upright and slow-moving frame, led one to look only for elephantine force, but when circumstances required prompt action our sergeant displayed powers of cat-like activity, which were all the more tremendous that they seemed incongruous and were unexpected. from his lips you looked for a voice of thunder--and at drill you were not disappointed--but on ordinary occasions his speech was soft and low; bass indeed as to its quality, but never harsh or loud. "a gale is brewing up from the nor'-west, so jack molloy says," remarked hardy, as he was about to pass on. "why, i thought it was blowing a gale _now_!" returned miles. "at least it seems so, if we may judge from the pitching and plunging." "ah, lad, you are judging from the landlubber's view-point," returned the sergeant. "wait a bit, and you will understand better what molloy means when he calls this only a `capful of wind.'" miles had not to wait long. the gale when fully "brewed up" proved to be no mean descendant of the family of storms which have tormented the celebrated bay since the present economy of nature began; and many of those who were on board of the troop-ship at that time had their eyes opened and their minds enlarged as to the nature of a thorough gale; when hatches have to be battened down, and the dead-lights closed; when steersmen have to be fastened in their places, and the maddened sea seems to roar defiance to the howling blast, and all things movable on deck are swept away as if they were straws, and many things not meant to be movable are wrenched from their fastenings with a violence that nothing formed by man can resist, and timbers creak and groan, and loose furniture gyrates about until smashed to pieces, and well-guarded glass and crockery leap out of bounds to irrecoverable ruin, and even the seamen plunge about and stagger, and landsmen hold on to ring-bolts and belaying-pins, or cling to bulkheads for dear life, while mighty billows, thundering in-board, hiss along the decks, and everything, above, below, and around, seems being swept into eternity by the besom of destruction! but the troop-ship weathered the storm nobly; and the good lord sent fine weather and moderate winds thereafter; and ere long the soldiers were enjoying the sunshine, the sparkling waters, and the sight of the lovely shores of the blue mediterranean. soon after that broken bones began to mend, and bruises to disappear; and our hero, thoroughly recovered from his accident, as well as greatly improved in general health, returned to his duties. but miles was not a happy man, for day by day he felt more and more severely that he had put himself in a false position. besides the ever-increasing regret for having hastily forsaken home, he had now the bitter reflection that he had voluntarily thrown away the right to address marion drew as an equal. during the whole voyage he had scarcely an opportunity of speaking a word to her. of course the warm-hearted girl did not forget the important service that had been rendered to her by the young soldier, and she took more than one occasion to visit the fore part of the vessel for the purpose of expressing her gratitude and asking about his health, after he was able to come on deck; but as her father accompanied her on these occasions, the conversation was conducted chiefly between him and the reverend gentleman. still, it was some comfort to hear her voice and see her eyes beaming kindly on him. once the youth inadvertently expressed his feelings in his look, so that marion's eye-lids dropped, and a blush suffused her face, to hide which she instantly became unreasonably interested in the steam-winch beside which they were standing, and wanted to understand principles of engineering which had never troubled her before! "what _is_ the use of that curious machine?" she asked, turning towards it quickly. "w'y, miss," answered jack molloy, who chanced to be sitting on a spare yard close at hand working a turk's head on a manrope, "that's the steam-winch, that is the thing wot we uses w'en we wants to hoist things out o' the hold, or lower 'em into it." "come, marion, we must not keep our friend from his duties," said mr drew, nodding pleasantly to miles as he turned away. the remark was called forth by the fact that miles had been arrested while on his way to the galley with a dish of salt pork, and with his shirt-sleeves, as usual, tucked up! only once during the voyage did our hero get the chance of talking with marion alone. the opportunity, like most pieces of good fortune, came unexpectedly. it was on a magnificent night, just after the troop-ship had left malta. the sea was perfectly calm, yet affected by that oily motion which has the effect of breaking a reflected moon into a million fragments. all nature appeared to be hushed, and the stars were resplendent. it was enough, as jack molloy said, to make even a bad man feel good! "do 'ee speak from personal experience, jack?" asked a comrade on that occasion. "i might, jim, if _you_ wasn't here," retorted molloy; "but it's not easy to feel bad alongside o' _you_." "that's like a double-edged sword, jack--cuts two ways. w'ich way d'ee mean it?" "`w'ichever way you please,' as the man said w'en the alligator axed 'im w'ether he'd prefer to be chawed up or bolted whole." concluding that, on the whole, the conversation of his friends did not tend to edification, miles left them and went to one of the starboard gangways, from which he could take a contemplative view of nature in her beautiful robe of night. curiously enough, marion chanced to saunter towards the same gangway, and unexpectedly found him there. "a lovely night, mr miles," she remarked. miles started, and turned with slight confusion in his face, which, happily, the imperfect light concealed. "beautiful indeed!" he exclaimed, thinking of the face before him--not of the night! "a cool, beautiful night like this," continued the girl--who was of the romantic age of sixteen--"will remain long, i should think, in your memory, and perhaps mitigate, in some degree, the hardships that are before you on the burning sand of egypt." "the memory of this night," returned miles, with fervour, "will remain with me _for ever_! it will not only mitigate what you are pleased to call hardships, but will cause me to forget them altogether--forget _everything_!" "nay, that were impossible," rejoined marion, with a slight laugh; "for a true soldier cannot forget duty!" "true, true," said miles dubiously; "at least it ought to be true; and i have no doubt is so in many cases, but--" what more he might have said cannot now be told, for they were interrupted at the moment by captain lacey, who, happening to walk in that direction, stopped and directed miss drew's attention to a picturesque craft, with high lateen sails, which had just entered into the silver pathway of the moon on the water. miles felt that it would be inappropriate in him to remain or to join in the conversation. with a heart full of disappointment and indignation he retired, and sought refuge in the darkest recesses of the pantry, to which he was welcome at all times, being a great favourite with the steward. whether it was the smell of the cheese or the ketchup we know not, but here better thoughts came over our hero. insignificant causes often produce tremendous effects. the touching of a trigger is but a small matter; the effects of such a touch are sometimes deadly as well as touching. possibly the sugar, if not the cinnamon, may have been an element in his change of mind. at all events it is safe to say that the general smell of groceries was associated with it. under the benign influence of this change he betook himself to the berth of the chief ship's-carpenter, with whom also he was a favourite. finding the berth empty, and a light burning in it, he sat down to wait for his friend. the place was comparatively quiet and retired. bethinking himself of the little packet which he had received at portsmouth, and which still lay unopened in the breast-pocket of his shell-jacket, he pulled it out. besides a testament, it contained sundry prettily covered booklets written by miss robinson and others to interest the public in our soldiers, as well as to amuse the soldiers themselves. in glancing through "our soldiers and sailors," "institute memories," "our warfare," "the victory," "heaven's light our guide," "good-bye," and similar works, two facts were suddenly impressed upon his mind, and strongly illuminated--namely, that there is such a thing as living for the good of others, and that up to that time he had lived simply and solely for himself! the last sentence that had fallen from the lips of marion that night was also strongly impressed upon him:--"a true soldier cannot forget duty!" and he resolved that "duty" should be his life's watchword thenceforward. such is the influence that a noble-minded woman may unconsciously have over even an unsteady man! soon after this the troop-ship reached the end of her voyage, and cast anchor off the coast of egypt, near the far-famed city of alexandria. chapter nine. our hero meets a friend unexpectedly in peculiar circumstances, and has a very strange encounter. miles milton's first experience in alexandria was rather curious, and, like most surprising things, quite unlooked for. the troops were not permitted to land immediately on arrival, but of course no such prohibition lay on the passengers, who went off immediately. in the hurry of doing so, the clergyman and his family missed saying good-bye to miles, who happened to be on duty in some remote part of the vessel at the time, and the shore-boat could not be delayed. this caused mr and mrs drew much regret, but we cannot add that it caused the same to miss drew, because that young lady possessed considerable command of feature, and revealed no feeling at all on the occasion. miles was greatly disappointed when he found that they had gone, but consoled himself with the hope that he could make use of his first day's leave to find them out in the town and say good-bye. "but why encourage hope?" thought miles to himself, with bitterness in his heart; "i'm only a private. marion will never condescend to think of _me_. what have i to offer her except my worthless self?" (you see miles was beginning to see through himself faintly.) "even if my father were a rich man, able to buy me out of the army and leave me a fortune-- which he is not--what right have i to expect that a girl like marion would risk her happiness with a fellow who has no profession, no means of subsistence, and who has left home without money and without leave? bah! miles, you are about the greatest goose that ever put on a red coat!" he was getting on, you see! if he had put "sinner" for "goose," his shot would have been nearer the mark; as it was, all things considered, it was not a miss. he smarted considerably under the self-condemnation. if a comrade had said as much he would have resented it hotly, but a man is wonderfully lenient to himself! under the impulse of these feelings he sought and obtained leave to go into the town. he wished to see how the new soldiers' institute being set up there was getting along. he had promised miss robinson to pay it a visit. that was his plea. he did not feel called upon to inform his officer of his intention to visit the drews! that was quite a private matter--yet it was the main matter; for, on landing, instead of inquiring for the spot where the new institute was being erected, he began a search among the various hotels where english visitors were wont to put up. the search was successful. he found the hotel, but the family had gone out, he was told, and were not expected back till evening. disappointment, of course, was the result; but he would wait. it is amazing what an amount of patience even impatient men will exercise when under the influence of hope! there was plenty of time to run down and see the institute, but he might miss his friends if they should chance to come in and go out again during his absence. what should he do? "bother the institute!" he muttered to himself. "it's only bricks an' mortar after all, and i don't know a soul there." he was wrong on both of these points, as we shall see. "what's the use of my going?" he murmured, after a reflective pause. "you promised the ladies of the portsmouth institute that you'd go to see it, and report progress," said that extraordinary something inside of him, which had a most uncomfortable way of starting up and whispering when least expected to do so. "and," added something, "every gentleman should keep his word." "true," replied miles, almost angrily, though inaudibly; "but i'm _not_ a gentleman, i'm only a private!" "goose!" retorted that pertinacious something; "is not every private a gentleman who acts like one? and is not every gentleman a blackguard who behaves as such?" miles was silenced. he gave in, and went off at once to visit the institute. as he walked down the long straight street leading to the grand square, which had been almost destroyed by the bombardment, he passed numerous dirty drinking-shops, and wondered that english soldiers would condescend to enter such disgusting places. he was but a young soldier, and had yet to learn that, to men who have been fairly overcome by the power of the fiend strong drink, no place is too disgusting, and no action too mean, so that it but leads to the gratification of their intolerable craving. it is said that in two streets only there were of these disreputable drinking-shops. all sorts and conditions of men passed him as he went along: turks, greeks, arabs, negroes, frenchmen, italians, and englishmen, the gay colours of whose picturesque costumes lent additional brilliancy to the sunny scene. the sight of the dark-skinned men and veiled women of the arab quarter did more, however, than anything else to convince our hero that he had at last really reached the "east"--the land of the ancient pharaohs, the pyramids, the arabian nights' entertainments, and of modern contention! presently he came upon the piece of waste ground which had been chosen as the site of the new institute. it was covered with the ruins-- shattered cement, glass, tiles, and general wreckage--of the buildings that had stood there before the bombardment, and on three sides it was surrounded by heaps of stones, shattered walls, and rubbish, some acres in extent. but the place had the great advantage of being close to the old harbour, not far from the spot where ancient alexandria stood, and was open to the fresh, cooling breezes that came in from the sea. arab workmen were busily employed at the time on the foundations of the building, under the superintendence of an unmistakable and soldierly-looking englishman, whose broad back was presented to miles as he approached. turning suddenly round, mr tufnell, the manager of the portsmouth institute, confronted the visitor with a stern but perspiring visage, which instantly became illuminated with a beaming smile. "what! tufnell!" exclaimed our hero, in amazement. "ay, miles; as large as life." "larger than life, if anything," said miles, grasping the proffered hand, and shaking it warmly. "why, man, the air of egypt seems to magnify you." "more likely that the heat of egypt is making me grow. what are you rubbing your eyes for?" "to make sure that they do not deceive," answered miles. "did i not leave you behind me at portsmouth?" "so you did, friend; but the voyage in a troop-ship is not the fastest method of reaching egypt. as you see, i've overshot you in the race. i have come to put up the new building. but come to my palace here and have a talk and a cup of coffee. glad to see that the voyage has agreed with you." they reached the palace to which the manager referred, and found it to be a cottage of corrugated iron amidst the rubbish. "here," said tufnell, offering his friend a chair, "i spend all my time and reign supreme--monarch of all i survey. these are my subjects," he added, pointing to the arab workmen; "that wilderness of rubbish is my kingdom; and yon heap of iron and stone, is the material out of which we mean to construct our alexandria institute. to save time, (the most valuable article in the world, if you'll believe me), miss robinson, as, perhaps, you may have heard, bought an old iron edifice in london, known as the brompton oratory, and sent it out here--like a convict--at government expense. you see, not only the public, but government, have now come to recognise the value of her work for soldiers." "and your subjects, the arabs--are they obedient and loyal?" asked miles. "pretty well; but they give me some trouble now and then. the other day, for instance, we had a sad accident, which at one time i feared would land us in serious difficulties. it is necessary, you must know, in laying foundations here, to dig through the sand some twelve to fifteen feet till water is reached, and then we lay a solid stone foundation about nine feet wide. well, while digging this foundation, the sand fell in on one of the workmen. i off coat at once and set to work with a shovel, shouting to the fellows to help me. instead of helping, they rushed at me in a body to prevent my interfering in the matter. then they quarrelled among themselves as to the best way of getting the man out, and the result was that the poor fellow was suffocated, though he might easily have been rescued by prompt action. but that was not the end of it! the relations and friends of the man came down, made eastern howling and lamentation over him, and laid his corpse at the door of my cottage, holding me responsible for his life, and demanding compensation! and it was not till i had paid a few francs to every brother and cousin and relative belonging to him that their grief was appeased and the dead body carried away. "still the matter did not end here, for next day the workmen said the accident was owing to the omission of a sacrifice at the commencement of the work, and they must have a lamb to kill on the ground, or more lives would certainly be lost. so i bought them a lamb, which they duly killed, cooked, and ate, after sprinkling its blood on the four corners of the foundation and on the walls. i had the skin of this lamb dressed and sent home as a curiosity." see note . "you appear to have pretty rough times of it then, on the whole," said miles. "i never counted on smooth times," returned tufnell; "besides, being used to roughing it, i am always glad to do so in a good cause. my palace, as you see, is not a bad one, though small. it is pretty hot too, as you seem to feel; and they tell me there will be some interesting variety in my experiences when the rainy season sets in! i wouldn't mind it so much if i could only be left to sleep in peace at nights. i stay here, you see, night and day, and what wi' the arabs prowling around, whispering and trying to get in, and the wild dogs makin' the neighbourhood a place o' public meeting--barking, howling, and quarrelling over their sorrows like human bein's, they don't give me much rest." "i have read of these dogs before," said miles. "are they really as wild and dangerous as they get credit for?" "if you'd seen the fight i had wi' them the other night you'd have no doubt on that point. why, a gang of 'em made a regular attack on me, and if it hadn't been that i was pretty active with my sword-stick, they'd have torn me in bits. let me advise you never to go out after nightfall without one. is that one in your hand?" "no, it is merely a cane." "well, exchange with me. there's no saying when you may want it." tufnell took a light sword-stick which lay on the table and handed it to miles, who accepted it laughingly, and without the slightest belief that he should ever have occasion to use it. in chatting about the plans of the building and the prospects of success, our hero became at last so deeply interested--partly, no doubt, because of his friend's enthusiasm--that he forgot the flight of time, and the evening was advancing before he rose to leave. "now, tufnell," he said suddenly, "i must be off, i have another call of importance to make." "what! won't you stop and have a cup of coffee with me?" "impossible. my business is urgent. i want to see friends whom i may not have the chance of seeing again. good-night." "good-night, then, and have a care of the dogs, specially after nightfall." on returning to the hotel shortly after sunset, miles came to the conclusion that his love must certainly be "true," for its course was not running "smooth." his friends had not yet returned. mrs drew had indeed come back, alone in a cab, but she had "von headik an' vas go to the bed." waiting about in front of the hotel for an hoar or two proved to be too much for our hero's nerves; he therefore made up his mind to exhaust his nervous system by means of a smart walk. soon he found himself in a lonely place, half-way between the grand square and the ramleh gate, with a deliciously cool breeze playing on his brow, and a full moon sailing overhead. no one was moving about on the road along which he walked. he had it all to himself at first, and the evening would have been quiet as well as beautiful but for the yelping dogs which had, by that time, come out of their day-dens to search and fight for food and hold their nightly revels. all round him were the heaps of rubbish caused by bombardment, and the ruined houses which war had rendered tenantless, though here and there the uprising of new buildings proved that the indomitable energy of man was not to be quelled by war or anything else. a flickering oil-lamp placed here and there at intervals threw a sickly yellow light into dark recesses which the moonbeams failed to reach. intermingled with these were a few date-palms and bananas. after a time he observed a couple of figures in advance of him--a man and woman--walking slowly in the same direction. not wishing to have his thoughts disturbed, he pushed on, intending to pass the wayfarers. he had got to within a hundred paces of them when he became aware of a violent pattering sound behind him. stopping and looking back he saw a pack of eight or nine of the wild, half-famished dogs of the place coming along the road at full gallop. he was quite aware that they were the savage, masterless creatures which keep close in hiding during the day, and come out at night to search for something to devour, but he could not bring himself to believe that any sort of dog was a dangerous animal. he therefore merely looked at them with interest as being natives of the place! they passed without taking notice of him--as ugly and wolfish a pack as one could wish to see--led by a big fellow like a ragged disreputable collie. they also passed, with apparent indifference, the wayfarers in advance, who had stopped to look at them. suddenly, and without a note of warning, the whole pack turned and rushed back, yelling fiercely, towards the man and woman. the latter clung to the left arm of the former, who raised his stick, and brought it down with such good-will on the skull of the foremost dog that it reeled back with an angry howl. it was not cowed, however, for it came on again, but the man, instead of striking it, thrust the end of his stick down its throat and checked it a second time. still unsubdued, the fierce animal flew at him once more, and would certainly have overcome him if miles had not run to the rescue at the first sign of attack. coming up quickly, he brought his cane down on the dog's head with all his might, having quite forgotten the sword in the excitement of the moment! the blow did nothing to the dog, but it shattered the cane, leaving the sword exposed! this was fortunate. a quick thrust sent the dog flying away with yells of pain and fear, followed by all his companions, who seemed to take their cue entirely from their leader. turning to congratulate the wayfarers on their escape, miles confronted mr drew and his daughter marion! if he had encountered the glare of the great sea-serpent he could scarcely have been taken more completely aback. "my dear young friend," said the clergyman, recovering himself and grasping the passive hand of the young soldier with enthusiasm, though he could not help smiling at his obvious embarrassment, "you seem to have been raised up to be our rescuer!" "i hope i have been raised up for something even more satisfactory than that," thought miles, but he did not say so! what he did say--in a stammering fashion--was to the effect that he hoped he might be called on to--to--render many more such trifling services--no--he did not quite mean that, but _if_ they should ever again be in danger, he hoped they would call on him to--to--that is-- "but i hope sincerely," he added, changing the subject abruptly, "that you are not hurt, miss drew?" "oh dear no; only a little frightened. but, father, are you sure that _you_ are not hurt?" "quite sure; only a little sprain, i think, or twist in my right ankle. the attack was so sudden, you see, that in the hurry to meet it my foot turned over. give me your arm, my young friend. there; it will be all right in a few minutes. how you tremble, marion! your nerves have received a greater shock than you imagine, and a lame man is but a poor support. give her your other arm, mr miles. you are stout enough to support us both." stout enough to support them both! ay, at that moment miles felt stout enough to support the entire world, like atlas, on his own broad shoulders! with a blush, that the moon generously refused to reveal, marion laid her hand lightly on the soldier's arm. it was much too light a touch, and did not distribute with fairness the weight of his burden, for the old gentleman hung heavily on the other arm. mr drew walked very slowly, and with evident pain, for the twist of the ankle had been much more severe than he at first imagined. "you will come in and sup with us," said mr drew, on at last reaching the hotel door. "impossible. i am exceedingly sorry, but my time has almost expired. indeed, i fear it has expired already, and duty comes before everything else. your daughter taught me that lesson, sir, on board ship!" "oh you hypocrite!" remarked his familiar and plain-spoken internal friend; "where was this grand sense of duty when you left home in a rage without `by your leave' to father or mother?" miles could make no reply. he had a tendency to silence when this friend spoke, and returned to barracks in a pensive mood, just in time, as armstrong said, to save his bacon. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note . this fleece is now, among other curiosities, at the portsmouth institute. chapter ten. off to the wars. the troops sent out to egypt at that time were much wanted to reinforce the southern frontier and defend it from the attacks of osman digna, who, with a large host of the dusky warriors of the soudan, was giving the defenders much trouble, and keeping them incessantly on the _qui vive_. miles milton had no time while in alexandria for anything but duty. he saw marion only once again before leaving, but did not find an opportunity to converse with her alone. to do him justice, he had not the most distant intention of declaring the state of his feelings, even if the opportunity had been given. he merely desired to be in her company for a little on any terms whatever! on that occasion, however, he contrived to scorch his heart with a double dose of jealousy, for he found two young men visiting the clergyman, each of whom seemed to be a friend of the family. one was a spendthrift named rentworth--a young traveller of that loose, easy-going type which is occasionally met with in foreign parts, squandering the money of a rich father. he was a decidedly handsome young fellow, but with the stamp of dissipation already on his countenance. the other was a telegraph engineer, with honesty and good-nature in every line of his plain countenance. both of these youths paid marked attention to marion--at least miles thought so--and he hated them both accordingly; all the more that he _felt_ their eyes to be fixed upon him while he was bidding her "farewell." he did not say "good-bye." that was too commonplace--in the circumstances almost childish. there was one gleam of comfort in the fact, however, that marion echoed the word, and that he thought--indeed he was sure--her hand trembled slightly as she returned, or rather received, his squeeze. miles was very stern of countenance and remarkably upright in figure while these adieux were being said--for the glare of his rivals, he thought, was upon him. how the poor fellow got through the preparations and packing and parades that were necessary when the order came abruptly for the regiment to start for suez we cannot tell. he went about everything mechanically, or like a man in a dream. and it was not till they had fairly started in the railway train that he became alive to the serious fact that he was actually off to the wars! the accommodation for passengers in that train was not good. distinctly bad, indeed, would be the proper term to apply to the kind of cattle-truck, in which miles found himself with a detachment of the gallant th infantry; and soon the blinding dust of egypt reminded our young soldier that the real battle of life had fairly begun. "you'll get over it in time, my poor fellow," said his friend armstrong, who sat beside him. "you need the same consolation yourself, friend willie," retorted miles, wiping the dust out of the corners of his eyes. "i didn't mean _that_," returned his friend. "_you_ know what i mean! but cheer up; absence makes the heart grow fonder--at the same time it makes a fellow fit for duty. i have gone through it myself, and know all about it." miles flushed and felt inclined at first to resent this allusion to the state of his affections, but he was fortunately saved from taking any notice of it by a sudden burst of laughter among the men at a remark from corporal flynn, who, although this was his first visit to egypt, had undertaken to point out to his comrades the various localities which he chose to assume were more or less connected with scripture history! the first part of the journey was not particularly interesting, and what with the fine sand and the great heat, the men began to experience the discomforts of an eastern climate, and to make frequent application to their water-bottles. it would have been well if they had contented themselves with water, and with the cold tea which some of them had been provident enough to save up at breakfast; but when they reached the first station where there was a five minutes' halt, some of them managed to smuggle strong drink into the train. one immediate result was that the men became more noisy. "come, give us a song, gaspard," cried several voices, apparently inspired at the same moment with the same idea and desire. "wan wid a rousin' chorus, boy," cried flynn. gaspard complied, being ever ready to oblige, but whether it was the heat, or the dust, or the "rousin'" chorus, or the drink, the song was a partial failure. perhaps it was the excess of _tremulo_ induced by the motion of the train! at all events it fell flat, and, when finished, a hilarious loud-voiced man named simkin, or rattling bill, struck up "rule britannia," which more than made amends for the other, and was sung with intense vigour till the next station was reached. here more drink was smuggled on board the train, and, as a natural consequence, men became troublesome. a morose man named sutherland, who was apt to grow argumentative and quarrelsome in his cups, made an assertion in reference to something terrestrial, which had no particular interest for any mortal man. simkin contradicted it. sutherland repeated it. simkin knocked sutherland's helmet overboard. sutherland returned the compliment in kind, and their comrades had to quell an intestine war, while the lost head-pieces were left on the arid plain, where they were last seen surrounded by wonder-stricken and long-legged natives of the flamingo tribe. this loss was a serious one, for exposure of the head to the sun in such a climate is exceedingly dangerous, and the old hands had great difficulty in impressing the fact on rattling bill and sutherland, who, with the obstinacy of "greenhorns," made light of the danger, and expressed disbelief in sunstroke. of course considerable interest was manifested when the station of tel-el-kebir was reached. "it's two mile from this, i've bin towld," said flynn, "where the great battle was fowt." "how d'ee know that, flynn?" asked one. "how do i know anything i'm towld but by belaivin' it?" returned the corporal. "it's my opeenion," said the big scotsman macleod, "that if there had been ony better troops than egeeptians to fecht wi', oor men an' my lord wolseley wadna hae fund it sic an easy job." "but it is said that the egyptians were brave enough, and fought and died like men till they were fairly overpowered," said moses pyne, who, being young and ardent, besides just, felt bound to stand up for dead foes. "i'm no objeckin' to their bravery," returned the scot. "they did the best they could; but what was to be expeckit o' a wheen men that was dragged to the field against their wull, an' made to fecht afore they weel kent hoo to use their airms?" "anyhow they gave us a chance to show what british soldiers can do," said rattling bill. "an' sure there's plenty more where they came from to give us another chance," said flynn. "that's true, boys. three cheers for the heroes of tel-el-kebir, dead and livin'!" cried armstrong, setting the example. the response was prompt and hearty, and for a few moments a forest of white helmets waved in the air. the enthusiasm was not allowed to cool, for the next station was kassassin, where the life guards and our cavalry made their midnight charges; and where there occurred, perhaps, one of the longest day's fighting in the war of . here, also, they saw the graves of the poor fellows who fell at that time, but the sight did not depress the men much. the somewhat lugubrious sutherland alone seemed to take a serious view of such matters. "it's a' vera weel for licht-hearted lads like you to laugh an' cheer," he said, "but there's naething mair certain than that some o' you that's laughin' an' cheerin' yenoo, an' boastin' o' lickin' the soudan neegers, 'll fill sandy graves afore lang." "you don't know that, scotty. pr'a'ps we'll _all_ escape and return to old england together," said one of his comrades. "arrah! if i _did_ git into wan o' the sandy graves ye spake of," remarked flynn, "i do belaive i'd rise out of it just for the pleasure o' contradictin' you, sutherland." "h'm! nae doot. contradictiousness whiles maks fowk lively that wad be dull an' deed eneuch withoot it. but did onybody iver hear o' a reg'ment gaun' oot to the wars an' comin' back jist as it went? that's the question--" "as hamlet's ghost said when he was takin' a night-walk to cool his-self," interposed simkin. "it wasna his ghost; it was his faither's ghost," cried sutherland; "an' i'm no' sure that--" "howld yer tongues, both o' ye!" cried flynn; "sure the loss o' yer helmets is beginning to tell on yer heads already. what can the line be i see in the distance over there? i do belaive it's another o' thim broad rivers that seem to cut up this land all into stripes." "why, it's the canal, man," cried moses pyne, who was more or less enthusiastic about all the sights and scenes they were passing. "don't ye see the ships?" "sure enough, you're right, moses, as ye ginerally are whin you're not wrong. there's some ships comin' wan way, an' some goin' the other. och! but he _is_ a great jainius that frenchman as tied the two says togither--lips--lisps--what is it they calls him? i've clane forgot." "lesseps," said miles, as he gazed with unusual interest on this wonderful highway of nations. the troops reached suez after a ten hours' journey, the distance being about miles. our hero made the acquaintance here of a private of marines named stevenson, with whom he afterwards served in the soudan, and with whom he became very friendly, not only because their spirits were sympathetic, but because, having been brought up in the same part of england, they had similar memories and associations in regard to "home." only those who have wandered long and far from their native land can understand the attractive influence that arises between men who meet abroad, and find that they can chat about the same places and persons in the "old country." it was saturday when the troops arrived at suez, and the heavy dew that fell rendered the night bitterly cold, and felt to be so all the more because of the intense heat of the day. sunday began with "rousing out" at six, breakfast at seven, parade at eight, and "divine service" thereafter. as there was no clergyman at the place at the time, the duty was performed by one of the officers. doubtless among the officers there are men who not only can "read prayers" well, but who have the spirit of prayer in them. that such, however, is not always the case may be gathered from the remark of one of the men upon this occasion. "w'y, you know, tom," said this rather severe critic to his comrade confidentially, "there's one advantage in fast readin', that it gets the business soon over, which is some sort o' comfort to fellows that has got to attend whether they like it or not, hot or cold, fresh or tired, unless dooty prevents. but the hofficer that did dooty to-day seemed to me to 'ave made a wager to read the prayers against time, an' that can do no good at all to any one, you know. far better, in my opinion, to 'ave no service at all. no wonder men won't listen. why, it's a mockery--that's what it is." a walk round suez with armstrong and stevenson till tattoo at : finished the day, and convinced miles and his friends that the sooner they bade adieu to that place the better for all of them. their wishes were gratified almost sooner than they wished! chapter eleven. new and sad mingled with curious experiences. at suez miles milton first made acquaintance with the shady side of war. before the commanding officer, after parade next morning, they received marching orders, and kit-muster followed. in the afternoon the _loch-ard_ steamer came in from suakim, with sick, wounded, and invalids, and a large party was told off to assist in landing them and their baggage. miles was one of the party. the dock where the vessel lay was three miles off, and the greater part of this distance the invalids were brought by train; but the latter part of the journey had to be done on foot by those who could walk, and on stretchers by those who could not. oh! it was pitiful to see those battered, sunburnt, bloodless young men, with deep lines of suffering on their faces, aged before their time, and the mere wrecks of what they once were. men who had gone to that region strong, active, ruddy, enthusiastic, and who, after a few months, returned thus feeble and shattered--some irreparably so; others with perhaps years of joyless life before them; a few with the unmistakable stamp of death already on their brows. there were about forty altogether. some, as we have said, were carried from the vessel, and not one of the forlorn band could get on without the assistance of their fresh comrades from england. one tall, deep-chested young soldier, who must have been a splendid specimen of manhood when he landed in egypt, was supported on one side by miles, and on the other by stevenson. "halt a moment," said the invalid, in a weak voice and with an apologetic smile. "i--i can't get along quite as fast as i used to." his trembling legs and bowed back did not require the tongue or the large sunken eyes to confirm that obvious truth. "poor fellow!" said miles--with difficulty, owing to the lump in his throat--"you ought to have had a stretcher. here, sit down a bit on this stone. have you been wounded?" "ay," returned the man with a look of quiet resignation that seemed to have become habitual to him, "i have been wounded, but not by spear or bullet. it's the climate that has done for me. i used to think that nothing under the sun could quell me, but the lord has seen fit to bring down my pride in that matter. at the same time, it's only fair to say that he has also raised me up, and given me greater blessings than he has taken away. they told me in portsmouth that he would, and it has come true." "at the institute?" asked stevenson, eagerly. "ay--the soldiers' institute," answered the invalid. "god bless you!" returned the marine, grasping his hand. "it was there i was brought to god myself. cheer up, brother! you'll soon be in hospital, where good food an' physic an' nursing will bring you round, may-hap, an' make you as ship-shape as ever." "it may be so, if he wills it so," returned the trooper softly; "but i have a little book called `our warfare,' and a letter from the `soldier's friend' in my pocket, which has done me more good than all the hospitals and physic in egypt can do. come, let us go on. i'm better now." rising and putting a long arm round the shoulders of each of his new friends, the trooper slowly brought up the rear of the touching procession which had already passed them on its way to suez. in the vessel which had brought those unfortunate men from suakim, miles and his comrades soon found themselves advancing down that region of sweltering heat called the red sea. the sight of the disabled men had naturally, at first, a depressing effect on the men; but the influence of robust health, youth, strong hope, and that light-hearted courage which makes the british soldier so formidable to his foes, soon restored to most of them their wonted free-and-easy enjoyment of the present and disregard for the future. even the serving out of cholera-belts and pocket-filters failed to allay their exuberant spirits. the _loch-ard_, although doubtless a good ship for carrying coals, was very ill-suited to convey troops. but in times of war, and in distant lands, soldiers lay their account with roughing it. they soon found that a little of the physic which is supposed to be "rough on rats" would have been of advantage; for the very first night many of the men were awakened by those creatures nibbling at their toes! everything on board was dirty: the tin pannikins were rusty, the biscuit was mouldy and full of creatures that the captain called weevils and macleod styled wee-deevils. some of the biscuit was so bad that it had to be thrown away, and the remainder eaten, as moses said, with closed eyes! "it's an ill wind that blaws naebody guid," said macleod to moses pyne, as he came on deck to enjoy a pipe after their first dinner on board. "what d'ee think that queer cratur flynn is doin' doon below?" "nothing very useful, i daresay," said moses. "ye're wrang for ance. he's lyin' in ambush there, makin' war on the rats--ay, an' he's killed twa or three a'ready!" "you don't say so! i'll go and see the fun." so saying moses went below, but had just reached the foot of the ladder when a boot caught him violently on the shins. "hi! hallo! ho!" shouted moses. "och! git out o' the line o' fire wid ye! there's another!" growled flynn, as he fired a second boot, which whizzed past the intruder, and a sharp squeak told that it had not been fired in vain! moses beat a hasty retreat, and the irishman continued the fight with that indomitable perseverance for which his countrymen are famous. there is no saying how long the action would have lasted, but in his energy he knocked away the support of a shelf behind him and a small cask of large nails, taking him in rear, sent him sprawling on the deck and routed him. this misadventure did not, however, terminate the war. on the contrary, rat-hunting became a favourite pastime during the voyage down the red sea. our hero, of course, took his turn at the fighting, but we believe that he never received a medal for his share in that war. they spent one sunday on the deep, but the only record made of it, in the journal of the soldier from which most of our facts are gathered, is that they "had prayers in racing style--against time!" as if to cleanse themselves from the impropriety of this act the soldiers had a grand washing of clothes on the following day, and the day after that they arrived at suakim. "it is what i call a dreary, dismal-looking town," said miles to armstrong, as they approached. "might be worse," replied his friend. "ye aye tak a cheery view o' things, airmstrong." "an' what for no?" asked sutherland. "you may well ask why not," said sergeant hardy. "i think it wisest to look always on the bright side of things." "whether it's dreary or pleasant we'll have to make the best we can of it, boys," said stevenson; "for this is to be our home for some time to come." "horrible!" growled simkin, whose spirit was essentially rebellious. "ochone!" sighed flynn, who, we need scarcely say, was essentially jolly. further remark was cut short by the voice of captain lacey ordering the men to fall in, as the colonel in command was coming on board to inspect them. the night of the arrival of the th was dreadfully hot, insomuch that many of the men found it impossible to sleep. but in the silence of that night food for reflection was supplied to the wakeful, in the form of sounds that were new to many, but soon became familiar to all-- namely, the boom of big guns and the rattle of musketry. osman digna was making one of his customary attacks on the town, and the defenders were repelling him. of course the sanguine among the new arrivals were much excited, and eager to join in the fray; but their services were not required that night. osman and his dusky hordes were being repulsed as usual, and the reinforcements were obliged to content themselves with merely listening to the sounds of war. chapter twelve. in action at last. no time was lost in sending the newly-arrived troops to their sphere of duty. there was something appropriate in their landing on that day of gunpowdery memories, the th of november. it was four o'clock when they disembarked. by four-thirty they were drawn up and inspected by the general, and immediately thereafter marched off in detachments to their respective stations--to sphinx redoubt, fort commodore, bulimba, and other points of defence. the detachment in which miles milton found himself was led by captain lacey to sphinx redoubt, where he was greatly pleased to find that his new friend, private stevenson of the marines, was also stationed with some of his comrades. there are probably times in the experiences of most of us when we seem to awake out of a long dream and begin to appreciate fully that the circumstances in which we are placed are stern realities after all. such a time of awakening came to our hero when he and his comrades each received fifty rounds of ball-cartridge, and stood ready to repel assault on the defences of suakim. hitherto drill and reviews had seemed to him a good deal like playing at soldiers. even when the distant sound of the big guns and the rattle of small arms touched his ear, the slumber of unbelief was only broken--not quite dispelled. but now, weighted with the deadly missiles, with rifle in hand, with ears alert to every sound, and eyes open to every object that might present itself on the sandy waste beyond the redoubt, and a general feeling of expectancy pervading his thoughts and feelings, he became clearly convinced that the recent past was no flight of the imagination--that he was in very truth a soldier, and that his fighting career had in reality begun! now, it may not be out of place here to state that our hero was not by nature a combative man. we think it necessary to point this out, because the somewhat pugnacious introduction of miles into our story may have misled the reader on this point. his desire for a soldier's life was founded on a notion that it would prove to be a roving, jovial, hilarious sort of life, with plenty of sport and adventure in foreign lands. of course he knew that it implied fighting also, and he was quite ready for that when it should be required of him; but it did not occur to him to reflect very profoundly that soldiering also meant, in some instances, exposure to withering heat during the day and stifling heat during the night; to thirst that seems unquenchable, and fatigue from prolonged duty that seems irreparable; to fits of sickness that appear to eliminate from stalwart frames all the strength they had ever possessed; and fits of the "blues" that render the termination of life a subject of rather pleasant contemplation than otherwise. but all these things he found out at suakim! moreover, it had not occurred to him to think deeply on the fact that fighting meant rushing at a fellow-man whose acquaintance he had not made before; against whom he had not the slightest feeling of ill-will, and skewering him with a bayonet, or sending a bullet into him which would terminate his career in mid-life, and leave a wife and children-- perhaps a mother also--disconsolate. but he also found that out at suakim! we repeat that miles had no desire to fight, though, of course, he had no objection. when the officer in command sent him and his comrades to their station--after the ball-cartridge supply just referred to--and told them to keep a sharp look-out, for osman digna was giving them a great deal of trouble at the time, and pointed out where they were to go if attacked, and warned them to be ready to turn out on the instant that the bugle should sound the alarm, miles was as full of energy and determination to fight and die for his country as the best of his comrades, though he did not express so strong a wish for a "brush with the enemy," as some of them did, or sympathise much with corporal flynn when he said-- "it's wishin' i am that osman an' his dirty naygurs would come down on us this night, for we're fresh an' hearty, just off the say, burnin' for fame an' glory, ivery mother's son of us, an' fit to cut the black bastes up into mince-meat. och! but it's thirsty i am!" "if ye spoke less an' thocht mair ye wadna be sae dry, maybe," remarked saunders, in a cynical tone. "hoots, man, let the cratur alane," said macleod, as he busied himself polishing up some dim parts of his rifle. "it's no muckle pleesure we're like to hae in this het place. let the puir thing enjoy his boastin' while he may." "sure an' we're not widout consolation anyhow," retorted the corporal; "for as long as we've got you, mac, and your countryman, to cheer us wid your wise an' lively talk we'll niver die o' the blues." as he spoke a tremendous explosion not far off caused the redoubt to tremble to its foundations. at the same moment the alarm sounded, the men sprang up, seized their arms, and stood ready for an attack; but to their surprise no attack was made. "surely it must have been one of the mines you were telling me about," said miles, in a low voice to sergeant gilroy, who stood near to him. "it was one of them unquestionably, for a corporal of the berkshire regiment told me lieutenant young placed the mine there yesterday." while gilroy was speaking, lieutenant young himself came along, engaged in earnest conversation with captain lacey, and stood still close beside miles. "what puzzles me, is that they have not followed it up with a few volleys, according to their usual custom," said the former, in a low voice. "luckily they seldom do any harm, for they are uncommonly bad shots, but they generally try their best to do us mischief, and always make a good deal of noise about it." "perhaps," suggested captain lacey, "your mine has done so much execution this time, and killed so many men, that they've got a fright and run away." "it may be so, but i think not. the soudanese are not easily frightened, as we have some cause to know." "have you many mines about?" asked the captain. "yes, we have a good many. and they form a most important part of our defence, for we are not very well supplied with men, and the egyptian troops are not to be depended on unless backed up by ours. these mines require to be carefully handled, however, for our shepherds take the cattle out to graze every day, so that if i were to fail to disconnect any of them in the mornings, we should have some of our cattle blown up; and if i failed to connect them again at night, the enemy would attack us more vigorously. as it is, they are very nervous about the mines. they have pluck to face any foe that they can see, but the idea of an unseen foe, who lurks underground anywhere, and may suddenly send them into the sky like rockets, daunts them a bit." "and little wonder!" returned the captain. "from what you say i judge that you have the management of most of the mines." "of all of them," answered the lieutenant, with a modest look. there was more than modesty in this young officer of engineers; there was heroism also. he might have added, (though he did not), that this duty of connecting and disconnecting the mines each night and morning was such a dangerous service that he declined to take men out with him, and invariably did the work personally and alone. the mystery of the explosion on the night we write of was explained next morning when a party sallied forth to see what damage had been done. they found, instead of dismembered men, the remnants of a poor little hare which had strayed across the fatal line of danger and been blown to atoms. thus do the lives of the innocent too often fall a sacrifice to the misdeeds of the guilty! next night, however, the defenders were roused by a real attack. the day had been one of the most trying that the new arrivals had yet experienced. the seasoned men, who had been formed by nature, apparently, of indestructible material, said it was awful. the thermometer stood at above degrees in the shade; there was not a breath of air moving; the men were panting, almost choking. even the negroes groaned, and, drawing brackish water from a well in the fort, poured it over their heads and bodies--but with little benefit, for the water itself was between and degrees! "it'll try some o' the new-comers to-night, if i'm not mistaken," remarked one of the indestructible men above referred to, as he rose from dinner and proceeded to fill his pipe. "why d'you think so?" asked sergeant hardy, whose name was appropriate, for he continued for a long time to be one of the indestructibles. "'cause it's always like this when we're goin' to have a horrible night." "do the nights vary much?" asked armstrong, who was still busy with his knife and fork. "of course they do," returned the man. "sometimes you have it quite chilly after a hot day. other times you have it suffocatin'--like the black hole of calcutta--as it'll be to-night." "what sort o' hole was that?" asked simkin, whose knowledge of history was not extensive. "it was a small room or prison into which they stuffed a lot of our men once, in india, in awful hot weather, an' kep' them there waitin' till the great mogul, or some chap o' that sort, should say what was to be done wi' them. but his majesty was asleep at the time, an' it was as much as their lives was worth to waken him. so they had to wait, an' afore he awakened out o' that sleep most o' the men was dead--suffocated for want o' fresh air." "i say, mac, pass the water," said moses pyne. "it makes a feller feel quite gaspy to think of." the weather-prophet proved to be right. that night no one could sleep a wink, except the big scotsman macleod. to make matters worse, the insects of the place were unusually active. one of them especially, not much bigger than a pin-point, was irritating out of all proportion to its size, and it kept up, during the night, the warfare which the innumerable flies had waged during the day. "it's no use trying to sleep, willie," said miles to armstrong, who was next to him, as they lay on the flat roof of the redoubt, with their rifles resting on the sandbags which formed a slight protection from the enemy's fire when one of the frequent attacks was made on the town. "so i find," returned his friend. "i have tried everything. counting up to hundreds of thousands has made me rather more wakeful. i find that thinking of emmy does me most good, but even that won't produce sleep." "strange!" remarked miles. "i have been trying the same sort of thing-- without success. and i've had an unusually hard day of it, so that i ought to be ready for sleep. you were in luck, being on police-duty." "h'm! i don't think much of my luck. but let's hear what you have been up to all day." "well, first, i began by turning out at : a.m.," said miles, rolling with a sigh on his other side, for a uniform, cross-belts, boots, ammunition, etcetera, don't, after all, form an easy night-dress. "after a cup of coffee i fell in with a lot of our fellows, and was told off for fatigue-duty. worked away till : . then breakfast. after that i had to clear up the mess; then got ready for inspection parade at : , after which i had to scrub belts, and clean up generally. dinner over, i was warned to go on night-guard; but, for some reason which was not stated to me, that was changed, and i'm not sorry for it, because the heat has taken a good deal out of me, and i prefer lying here beside you, willie, to standing sentry, blinking at the desert, and fancying every bush and stone to be a dusky skirmisher of osman digna. by the way, if that mountain range where the enemy lies is twelve or fourteen miles distant from the town, they have a long way to come when they take a fancy to attack us--which is pretty often too. they say he has got two hundred thousand men with him. d'you think that can be true?" a gentle trumpet-note from his friend's nose told miles that he had brought about what thoughts of emmy had failed to accomplish! thoughts of marion had very nearly brought himself to a similar condition, when a trumpet-blast, the reverse of gentle, roused the whole line of defence, and, immediately after, sharp firing was heard in the direction of the right water fort, which was manned by marines with two krupp guns and a gardner. a few rounds from the big guns drove the enemy back in that direction. miles and those around him, however, had not to turn out. owing to their position on the roof of the sphinx redoubt, they had only to roll on their fronts, rest their rifles on the sandbags, and they were at once ready for action. round the various forts and redoubts deep and broad trenches had been dug, and they were rendered otherwise as strong as possible. the right and left water forts formed the first line of defence. the latter fort, being manned by egyptian troops, was more frequently favoured with the attentions of osman than the others, for the marines were splendid men, and the native chief was well aware of that. all the places around, which offered the slightest shelter to the enemy, had been carefully measured as to distance, so that the exact range could be fixed at a moment's notice. then the war-vessels and one of the forts were furnished with electric lights, so that, by bringing these to bear on the foe, as well as the big and little guns--not to mention mines and rifles--the attacking host had always a warm reception when they paid a visit to the town, and never stayed long! the defenders required all these aids, however; for, besides a regiment of egyptian infantry, a company of royal engineers, and about marines, there was only one small battalion of british troops and a regiment of egyptian cavalry. these last were extremely useful. every day they went out scouting and clearing around suakim, and had frequent skirmishes with the enemy, in all of which they were said to have behaved very well indeed. our party on the redoubt had not lain there long when a sheet of flame seemed to flash out of the darkness in front of them. it was followed by the rattle of small arms. instantly the redoubt replied; bullets whizzed overhead, and our hero received what has of late been called a "baptism of fire." but he was so busy plying his own weapon that he scarcely realised the fact that death was ever and anon within a few inches of him, until a bullet ripped the sandbag on which his rifle rested and drove the sand into his face. he became a wiser man from that hour, and soon acquired the art of performing his duty with the least possible exposure of his person, and that for the briefest possible space of time! like a first-rate detective, the electric light sought out and exposed their foes; then withering volleys sent them scurrying across the country back to their native hills. "sure it's wid wan eye open we've got to slape whin the murtherin' rascals come down on us like that," observed corporal flynn, when the firing had slackened to a few dropping shots on both sides. "av they'd only stand fornint us in the open, it's short work we'd make o' them. there's no more pluck in them than in my smallest finger." it seemed as if righteous retribution were being meted out that night, for a spent ball entered the fort at that moment and, strange to say, hit the extreme tip of the corporal's little finger! a howl, as much of surprise as pain, apprised his comrades of the fact, and a hearty laugh followed when the trifling extent of the injury was ascertained. "serves you right, flynn, for boasting," said armstrong, with a grim smile, as he stretched himself out and rested his head on a sandbag. "moreover, you are unjust, for these black fellows are as brave a lot o' men as british troops have ever had to face. good-night, boys, i'm off to the land of nod!" chapter thirteen. tells of some of the trials, uncertainties, dangers, and disasters of war. uncertain moonlight, with a multitude of cloudlets drifting slowly across the sky so as to reveal, veil, partially obscure, or sometimes totally blot out the orb of night, may be a somewhat romantic, but is not a desirable, state of things in an enemy's country, especially when that enemy is prowling among the bushes. but such was the state of things one very sultry night when our hero found himself standing in the open alone, and with thoughts of a varied and not wholly agreeable nature for his companions. he was on sentry duty. it was intensely dark when the clouds partially veiled the moon, for she was juvenile at the time--in her first quarter; and when the veil was partially removed, the desert, for it was little better, assumed an indistinct and ghostly-grey appearance. sombre thoughts naturally filled the mind of our young soldier as he stood there, alert, watchful, with weapons ready, ears open to the slightest sound, and eyes glancing sharply at the perplexing shadows that chased each other over the ground like wanton soudanese at play. his faculties were intensely strung at what may well be styled "attention," and riveted on that desert land to which fate--as he called his own conduct--had driven him. yet, strange to say, his mysterious spirit found leisure to fly back to old england and revisit the scenes of childhood. but he had robbed himself of pleasure in that usually pleasant retrospect. he could see only the mild, sorrowful, slightly reproachful, yet always loving face of his mother when in imagination he returned home. it was more than he could bear. he turned to pleasanter memories. he was back again at portsmouth, in the reading-room of the soldiers' institute, with red-coated comrades around him, busy with newspaper and illustrated magazine, while the sweet sound of familiar music came from the adjoining rooms, where a number of blue lights, or rather red-coats, who were not ashamed to own and serve their maker, were engaged with songs of praise. suddenly he was back in egypt with his heart thumping at his ribs. an object seemed to move on the plain in front of him. the ready bayonet was lowered, the trigger was touched. only for a moment, however. the shadow of a cloud had passed from behind a bush--that was all; yet it was strange how very like to a real object it seemed to his highly-strung vision. a bright moonbeam next moment showed him that nothing to cause alarm was visible. mind is not so easily controlled as matter. like a statue he stood there in body, but in mind he had again deserted his post. yet not to so great a distance as before. he only went the length of alexandria, and thought of marion! the thought produced a glow, not of physical heat--that was impossible to one whose temperature had already risen to the utmost attainable height--but a glow of soul. he became heroic! he remembered marion's burning words, and resolved that duty should henceforth be his guiding-star! duty! his heart sank as he thought of the word, for the something within him became suddenly active, and whispered, "how about your duty to parents? you left them in a rage. you spent some time in portsmouth, surrounded by good influences, and might have written home, but you didn't. you made some feeble attempts, indeed, but failed. you might have done it several times since you landed in this country, but you haven't. you know quite well that you have not fully repented even yet!" while the whispering was going on, the active fancy of the youth saw the lovely face of marion looking at him with mournful interest, as it had been the face of an angel, and then there came to his memory words which had been spoken to him that very day by his earnest friend stevenson the marine: "no man can fully do his duty to his fellows until he has begun to do his duty to god." the words had not been used in reference to himself but in connection with a discussion as to the motives generally which influence men. but the words were made use of by the spirit as arrows to pierce the youth's heart. "guilty!" he exclaimed aloud, and almost involuntary followed, "god forgive me!" again the watchful ear distinguished unwonted sounds, and the sharp eye--wonderfully sharpened by frequent danger--perceived objects in motion on the plain. this time the objects were real. they approached. it was "the rounds" who visited the sentries six times during each night. in another part of the ground, at a considerable distance from the spot where our hero mounted guard, stood a youthful soldier, also on guard, and thinking, no doubt, of home. he was much too young for service in such a climate--almost a boy. he was a ruddy, healthy lad, with plenty of courage and high spirit, who was willing to encounter anything cheerfully, so long as, in so doing, he could serve his queen and country. but he was careless of his own comfort and safety. several times he had been found fault with for going out in the sun without his white helmet. miles had taken a fancy to the lad, and had spoken seriously, but very kindly, to him that very day about the folly of exposing himself in a way that had already cost so many men their lives. but young lewis laughed good-naturedly, and said that he was too tough to be killed by the sun. the suffocating heat of that night told upon him, however, severely-- tough though he was or supposed himself to be--while he kept his lonely watch on the sandy plain. presently a dark figure was seen approaching. the sentinel at once challenged, and brought his rifle to the "ready." the man, who was a native, gave the password all right, and made some apparently commonplace remark as he passed, which, coupled with his easy manner and the correct countersign, threw the young soldier off his guard. suddenly a long sharp knife gleamed in the faint light and was drawn across the body of lewis before he could raise a hand to defend himself. he fell instantly, mortally wounded, with his entrails cut open. at the same moment the tramp of the rounds was heard, and the native glided back into the darkness from which he had so recently emerged. when the soldiers came to the post they found the poor young soldier dying. he was able to tell what had occurred while they were making preparations to carry him away, but when they reached the fort they found that his brief career had ended. a damp was cast on the spirits of the men of his company when they learned next day what had occurred, for the lad had been a great favourite; but soldiers in time of war are too much accustomed to look upon death in every form to be deeply or for long affected by incidents of the kind. only the comrades who had become unusually attached to this poor youth mourned his death as if he had been a brother in the flesh as well as in the ranks. "he was a good lad," said sergeant gilroy, as they kept watch on the roof of the fort that night. "since we came here he has never missed writing to his mother a single mail. it is true, being an amiable lad, and easily led through his affections, he had given way to drink to some extent, but no later than yesterday i prevailed upon him to join our temperance band--" "what? become a blue light!" exclaimed sutherland, with something of a sneer in his tone. "ah, comrade; and i hope to live to see you join our band also, and become one of the bluest lights among us," returned the sergeant good-humouredly. "never!" replied sutherland, with emphasis; "you'll never live to see that." "perhaps not, but if i don't live to see it some one else will," rejoined the sergeant, laying his hand gently on the man's shoulder. "is that you again? it's wishin' i am that i had you in ould ireland," growled corporal flynn, referring to osman digna, whose men had opened fire on the neighbouring fort, and again roused the whole garrison. "slape is out o' the question wi' such a muskitos buzzin' about. bad luck to 'ee!" "what good would it do to send him to ireland?" asked simkin, as he yawned, rolled over, and, like the rest of his comrades, loaded his rifle. "why, man, don't ye see, av he was in ould ireland he couldn't be disturbin' our night's rest here. moreover, they'd make a dacent man of 'im there in no time. it's always the way; if an english blackguard goes over to ireland he's almost sure to return home more or less of a gintleman. that's why i've always advised you to go over, boy. an' maybe if osman wint he'd--hallo!" a flash of light and whistling of bullets overhead effectually stopped the irishman's discourse. not that he was at all alarmed by the familiar incident, but being a change of subject it became more absorbingly interesting than the conversation, besides necessitating some active precautions. the firing seemed to indicate an attack in several places along the line of defence. at one of the posts called the new house the attack was very sharp. the enemy could not have been much, if at all, over three hundred yards distant in the shelter of three large pits. of course the fire was vigorously returned. a colonel and major were there on the redoubt, with powerful field-glasses, and directed the men where to fire until the general himself appeared on the scene and took command. on the left, from quarantine island, the royal engineers kept up a heavy cross-fire, and on the right they were helped by a fort which was manned by egyptian troops. from these three points a heavy fire was kept up, and continued till six o'clock in the morning. by that time, the enemy having been finally driven out of the pits, a party was sent across to see what execution had been done. it was wonderfully little, considering the amount of ammunition and energy expended. in the first pit one man was found dead; a bullet had entered his forehead and come out at the back of his head. moving him a little on one side they found another man under him, shot in the same way. all round the pit inside were large pools of blood, but no bodies, for the natives invariably dragged or carried away their dead when that was possible. in the other two pits large pools of blood were also found, but no bodies. beyond them, however, one man was discovered shot through the heart. he had evidently been dragged along the sand, but the tremendous fire of the defenders had compelled the enemy to drop him. still further on they found twelve more corpses which had been dragged a short way and then left. close to these they observed that the sand had been disturbed, and on turning it up found that a dozen of bodies had been hastily buried there. altogether they calculated that at least fifty of the enemy had been killed on that occasion--a calculation which was curiously verified by the friendly tribes asking permission to bury the dead according to the soudanese custom. this was granted, of course, and thus the exact number killed was ascertained, but how many had been wounded no one could tell. "fifty desolated homes!" remarked one of the men, when the number of killed was announced at mess that day. he was a cynical, sour-visaged man, who had just come out of hospital after a pretty severe illness. "fifty widows, may-hap," he continued, "to say nothin' o' child'n--that are just as fond o' husbands an' fathers as _ours_ are!" "why, jack hall, if these are your sentiments you should never have enlisted," cried simkin, with a laugh. "i 'listed when i was drunk," returned hall savagely. "och, then, it sarves ye right!" said flynn. "even a pig would be ashamed to do anythin' whin it was in liquor." the corporal's remark prevented the conversation taking a lugubrious turn, to the satisfaction of a few of the men who could not endure to look at anything from a serious point of view. "what's the use," one of them asked, "of pullin' a long face over what you can't change? here we are, boys, to kill or be killed. my creed is, `take things as they come, and be jolly!' it won't mend matters to think about wives and child'n." "won't it?" cried armstrong, looking up with a bright expression from a sheet of paper, on which he had just been writing. "here am i writin' home to _my_ wife--in a hurry too, for i've only just heard that word has been passed, the mail for england goes to-day. i'm warned for guard to-night, too; an' if the night takes after the day we're in for a chance o' suffocation, to say nothing o' insects--as you all know. now, won't it mend matters that i've got a dear girl over the sea to think about, and to say `god bless her, body and soul?'" "no doubt," retorted the take-things-as-they-come-and-be-jolly man, "but--but--" "but," cried hall, coming promptly to his rescue, "have not the soudanese got wives an' children as well as us?" "i daresay they have--some of 'em." "well, does the thought of your respective wives an' children prevent your shooting or sticking each other when you get the chance?" "of course it don't!" returned armstrong, with a laugh as he resumed his pencil. "what would be the use o' comin' here if we didn't do that? but i haven't time to argue with you just now, hall. all i know is that it's my duty to write to my wife, an' i won't let the chance slip when i've got it." "bah!" exclaimed the cynic, relighting his pipe, which in the heat of debate he had allowed to go out. several of the other men, having been reminded of the mail by the conversation, also betook themselves to pen and pencil, though their hands were more familiar with rifle and bayonet. among these was miles milton. mindful of his recent thoughts, and re-impressed with the word _duty_, which his friend had just emphasised, he sat down and wrote a distinctly self-condemnatory letter home. there was not a word of excuse, explanation, or palliation in it from beginning to end. in short, it expressed one idea throughout, and that was--guilty! and of course this was followed by his asking forgiveness. he had forgiveness--though he knew it not--long before he asked it. his broken-hearted father and his ever-hopeful mother had forgiven him in their hearts long before--even before they received that treasured fragment from portsmouth, which began and ended with: "dearest mother, i am sorry--" after finishing and despatching the letter, miles went out with a feeling of lightness about his heart that he had not felt since that wretched day when he forsook his father's house. as it was still early in the afternoon he resolved to take a ramble in the town, but, seeing sergeant gilroy and another man busy with the gardner gun on the roof of the redoubt, he turned aside to ask the sergeant to accompany him; for gilroy was a very genial christian, and miles had lately begun to relish his earnest, intelligent talk, dashed as it was with many a touch of humour. the gun they were working with at the time had been used the day before in ascertaining the exact range of several objects on the ground in front. "i'll be happy to go with you, miles, after i've given this gun a clean-out," said gilroy. "turn the handle, sutherland." "i'll turn the handle if it's a' richt," said the cautious scot, with some hesitation. "it is all right," returned the sergeant. "we ran the feeder out last night, you know, and i want to have the barrels cleaned. turn away." thus ordered a second time, sutherland obeyed and turned the handle. the gun went off, and its contents passed through the sergeant's groin, making a hole through which a man could have passed his arm. he dropped at once, and while some ran for the doctor, and some for water, others brought a stretcher to carry the poor fellow to hospital. meanwhile miles, going down on his knees beside him, raised his head and moistened his pale lips with water. he could hardly speak, but a smile passed over his face as he said faintly, "she'll get my presents by this mail. write, miles--break it to her--we'll meet again--by the side of jesus--god be praised!" he ceased, and never spoke again. gilroy was a married man, with five children. just before the accident he had written to his wife enclosing gifts for his little ones, and telling, in a thankful spirit, of continued health and safety. before the mail-steamer with his letter on board was out of sight he was dead! chapter fourteen. describes some of osman digna's eccentricities and other matters. one day miles and his friend armstrong went to have a ramble in the town of suakim, and were proceeding through the bazaar when they encountered simkin hurrying towards them with a much too serious expression on his face! "have you heard the n-news?" he asked, on coming up. "no; what's up?" "the old shep-shepherd's bin killed; all the c-cattle c-captured, an' the egyptian c-cavalry's bin sent out after them." "nonsense! you're dreaming, or you've bin drinking," said miles. "neither dreamin' nor drinkin'," returned simkin, with indignation, as he suddenly delivered a blow at our hero's face. miles stopped it, however, gave him a playful punch in the chest, and passed on. at first simkin seemed inclined to resent this, but, while he swayed about in frowning indecision, his comrades left him; shaking his head, therefore, with intense gravity, he walked away muttering, "not a bad fellow miles, after all, if he w-wasn't so fond o' the b-bottle!" miles was at the same moment making the same remark to his friend in reference to simkin, and with greater truth. "but i don't wonder that the men who drink, go in for it harder than ever here," continued miles. "there is such hard work, and constant exposure, and so little recreation of any sort. yet it is a pity that men should give way to it, for too many of our comrades are on the sick-list because of it, and some under the sod." "it is far more than a pity," returned armstrong, with unwonted energy. "drink with its attendant evils is one of the great curses of the army. i have been told, and i can well believe it, that drink causes more loss to an army than war, the dangers of foreign service, and unhealthy climates, all put together." "that's a strong statement, willie, and would need to be founded on good authority. who told you?" "our new parson told me, and he is in my opinion a good authority, because he is a christian, if ever a man was; and he is an elderly man, besides being uncommonly clever and well informed. he told us a great many strong facts at the temperance meeting we held last night. i wish you had been there, miles. it would have warmed your heart, i think." "have you joined them, willie?" "yes, i have; and, god helping me, i mean to stick by them!" "i would have gone to the meeting myself," said miles thoughtfully, "if i had been asked." "strange," returned armstrong, "that sergeant hardy said to me he thought of asking you to accompany us, but had an idea that you wouldn't care to go. now, just look at that lot there beside the grog-shop door. what a commentary on the evils of drink!" the lot to which he referred consisted of a group of miserable loungers in filthy garments and fez-caps, who, in monkey-like excitement, or solemn stupidity, stood squabbling in front of one of the many greek drinking-shops, with which the town was cursed. passing by at the moment, with the stately contempt engendered by a splendid physique and a red coat, strode a trooper--one of the defenders of the town. his gait was steady enough, but there was that unmistakable something in the expression of his face which told that he was in the grip of the same fiend that had captured the men round the grog-shop door. he was well-known to both armstrong and miles. "hallo! johnson," cried the latter. "is there any truth in the--" he stopped, and looked steadily in the trooper's eyes without speaking. "oh yes, i know what you mean," said johnson, with a reckless air. "i know that i'm drunk." "i wouldn't say exactly that of you," returned miles; "but--" "well, well, i say it of myself," continued the trooper. "it's no use humbuggin' about it. i'm swimmin' wi' the current. goin' to the dogs like a runaway locomotive. of course i see well enough that men like sergeant hardy, an' stevenson of the marines, who have been temperance men all their lives, enjoy good health--would to god i was like 'em! and i know that drinkers are dyin' off like sheep, but that makes it all the worse for me, for, to tell you the honest truth, boys--an' i don't care who knows it--i _can't_ leave off drinkin'. it's killin' me by inches. i know, likewise, that all the old hard drinkers here are soon sent home ruined for life--such of 'em at least as don't leave their miserable bones in the sand, and i know that i'm on the road to destruction, but i can't--i _won't_ give it up!" "ha! johnson," said armstrong, "these are the very words quoted by the new parson at the temperance meetin' last night--an' he's a splendid fellow with his tongue. `hard drinker,' says he, `you are humbuggin' yourself. you say you _can't_ give up the drink. the real truth is, my man, that you _won't_ give it up. if only i could persuade you, in god's strength, to say "i _will_," you'd soon come all right.' now, johnson, if you'll come with me to the next meetin'--" "what! _me_ go to a temperance meetin'?" cried the trooper with something of scorn in his laugh. "you might as well ask the devil to go to church! no, no, armstrong, i'm past prayin' for--thank you all the same for invitin' me. but what was you askin' about news bein' true? what news?" "why, that the old shepherd has been killed, and all our cattle are captured, and the egyptian cavalry sent after them." "you don't say so!" cried the trooper, with the air of a man who suddenly shakes off a heavy burden. "if that's so, they'll be wantin' us also, no doubt." without another word he turned and strode away as fast as his long legs could carry him. although there might possibly be a call for infantry to follow, miles and his friend did not see that it was needful to make for their fort at more than their ordinary pace. it was a curious and crowded scene they had to traverse. besides the grog-shops already mentioned there were numerous coffee-houses, where, from diminutive cups, natives of temperate habits slaked their thirst and discussed the news--of which, by the way, there was no lack at the time; for, besides the activity of osman digna and his hordes, there were frequent arrivals of mails, and sometimes of reinforcements, from lower egypt. in the side-streets were many smithies, where lance-heads and knives were being forged by men who had not the most distant belief that such weapons would ever be turned into pruning-hooks. there were also workers in leather, who sewed up passages of the koran in leathern cases and sold them as amulets to be worn on necks and arms. elsewhere, hairdressers were busy greasing and powdering with the dust of red-wood the bushy locks of hadendoa dandies. in short, all the activities of eastern city life were being carried on as energetically as if the place were in perfect security, though the only bulwark that preserved it, hour by hour, from being swept by the innumerable hordes of soudan savagery, consisted of a few hundreds of british and egyptian soldiers! arrived at the sphinx fort, the friends found that the news was only too true. the stolen cattle belonged to the people of suakim. every morning at six o'clock it was the custom of the shepherds to go out with their herds and flocks to graze, there being no forage in or near the town. all had to be back by sunset, when the gates were locked, and no one was allowed out or in till six the next morning. the women, who carried all the water used in the waterless town, had of course to conform to the same rule. like most men who are constantly exposed to danger, the shepherds became careless or foolhardy, and wandered rather far with their herds. osman was too astute to neglect his opportunities. on this occasion an old shepherd, who was well-known at sphinx redoubt, had strayed too far. the soudanese swept down, cut off his retreat, killed him, and, as we have said, carried off his cattle. it was to retrieve, if possible, or avenge this disaster that the egyptian cavalry sallied forth. they were seen galloping after the foe when miles reached the roof of the redoubt, where some of his comrades were on duty, while captain lacey and several officers were looking on with field-glasses. "they are too late, i fear, to do much good," remarked one of the officers. "don't i wish i was goin' wid them!" whispered corporal flynn to a comrade. "ye wad be a queer objec' on the ootside o' a horse," remarked macleod cynically. "why, mac, ye wouldn't have me go _inside_ of a horse, would ye?" "it wad be much the same which way ye went," returned the scot. "ah, thin, the horse wouldn't think so, unless he was a donkey!" "well done!" exclaimed captain lacey at that moment, as the cavalry cut off and succeeded in recapturing a few of the cattle, and gave the enemy several volleys, which caused them to beat a hasty retreat. this, however, turned out to be a _ruse_ on the part of osman, who had his men concealed in strong force there. he tried to draw the cavalry away from suakim, and was very nearly successful. in the ardour of pursuit the egyptians failed to observe that the soudanese were creeping round their rear to cut off retreat. on discovering their mistake, and finding that their small force of two hundred men was being surrounded by thousands of arab warriors, it was almost too late. turning at once, they galloped back, and could be seen, through the field-glasses, turning now and then gallantly to engage the pursuing foe. no help could be rendered them at first, as they were beyond the range of all the forts; nevertheless, they got in safely, with little injury to man or beast, and driving before them the animals that had been recovered. next day the body of the poor old shepherd was brought in and buried, without a coffin, by his relations. miles, being off duty at the time, went to see the funeral, and found that eastern and western ideas on this point, as on many others, are wide as the poles asunder. no doubt the grief of the near relations was as real as it was demonstrative, but it required more credulity than he possessed to enable him to believe that the howling, shouting, and singing of many mourners was indicative of genuine feeling. the creation of noise, indeed, seemed to be their chief method of paying respect to the dead. as deaths in suakim were very numerous at this time, owing to much sickness among natives as well as troops, the sounds of mourning, whether by volley or voice, became so frequent that orders were at last given to cease firing over the soldiers' graves when they were buried. just ahead of the shepherd's body came some poor women, who were weeping, falling down at intervals, and kissing the ground. on reaching the wall round the land side of the town these women stopped, formed a circle, and kneeled on the sand while the body was passing them, then they leaned forward and kissed the ground, continuing in that position till all the procession had passed. there the women remained, not being allowed to go to the grave, and the singing and shouting were continued by boys, who kept running round the bier as it was borne along. on reaching the grave the body was put in with the face toward the east, and covered up with stones and mortar. then the grave was filled up with sand, a brief prayer was offered--the mourners kneeling--after which the people went home. sad thoughts filled the mind of our young soldier as he returned to the fort, but the sadness was soon turned to indignation when he got there. for some time past a soudanese youth of about seventeen or eighteen years of age had been coming about the sphinx redoubt and ingratiating himself with the men, who took a great fancy to him, because he was amiable in disposition, somewhat humorous as well as lively, and handsome, though black! they used to give him something to eat every time he came, and made quite a pet of him. one day while he was out in the open country, osman's men captured this youth and took him at once before their leader, who, probably regarding him as a deserter, ordered both his hands to be cut off close to the wrists. the cruel deed was done, and the poor lad was sent back to suakim. it was this that roused the wrath of miles as well as that of his comrades. when they saw the raw stumps and the haggard look of the poor fellow, who had suffered much from loss of blood, they got into a state of mind that would have made them ready to sally forth, if so required, and assault the entire soudan in arms! "och! av i only had 'im here," said flynn, clenching his teeth and fists at the same time. "it's--it's--it's--" "mince-meat you'd make of him," said moses. "no--it's _cat's_ mate--the baste!" the others were equally angry, though not quite so emphatic, but they did not waste their time in useless regrets. they hurried the young soudanese to the doctor, who carefully dressed his wounds, and every care was thereafter taken of him by the men, until completely restored to health. it may interest the reader to know that this poor fellow was afterwards well looked after. some sort of employment in the garrison was obtained for him, and he was found to be a useful and willing servant, despite the absence of his hands. that night a furious sand-storm burst upon the town, accompanied by oppressive heat. "it always seems to me," said miles to gaspard redgrave, who lay next him, "that mosquitoes and sand-flies, cats and dogs, and in fact the whole brute creation, becomes more lively when the weather is unusually hot. just listen to these cats!" "like a colony of small children being murdered," said gaspard. "it's awfu'," observed saunders, in a kind of solemn astonishment as a frightful caterwaul burst upon their ears. "i wadna like to hear teegers in the same state o' mind." "or elephants," murmured moses pyne, who was more than half asleep. the cats were indeed a great nuisance, for, not satisfied with getting on the flat roofs of the houses at nights, and keeping up a species of war-dance there, they invaded the soldiers' quarters, upsetting things in the dark--thus demonstrating the absurdity of the proverb that cats see best in the dark--stealing whatever they could lay hold of, and inducing half-slumbering men to fling boots and shoes, or whatever came most handy, at them. rats also were innumerable, and, to the great surprise--not to say indignation--of the men, neither dogs nor cats paid the least attention to the rats! after a time the storm, both of animate and inanimate nature, began to abate, and the weary overworked soldiers were dropping off to sleep when a tremendous explosion effectually roused them. "there goes another mine!" cried armstrong, starting up. "it don't require a prophet to tell us that," growled gaspard, as he yawned and slowly picked up his rifle. explosions were of quite common occurrence at that time, but had to be attended to nevertheless. that osman had taken advantage of the very dark night to make an earlier attack than usual was evident, for shots were fired immediately after the explosion occurred, as usual. these were replied to, but the effect of the explosion, it was supposed, must have been unusually severe, for the enemy withdrew after exchanging only a few shots. this surmise was afterwards proved to be correct. on going to the spot the following morning, they found that at least a dozen of their foes must have been blown up, for legs and arms and other human remains were picked up in all directions. these the soldiers gathered, with the aid of the friendly natives, and burned. no attack was made for four days after that, but then the untiring enemy became as troublesome as ever. spies afterwards said that when osman heard of this incident, and of the number of men killed, he said, "it served them right. they had no business to go touching things that did not belong to them!" chapter fifteen. athletics--a new acquaintance turns up--an expedition undertaken, followed by a race for life. energetic and exhilarating exercise has sometimes the effect of driving away sickness which doctors' stuff and treatment fail to cope with successfully. in saying this we intend no slight either to doctors' stuff or treatment! after the troops had been some time at suakim the effect of the climate began to tell on them so severely that a very large proportion of europeans were in hospital, and many who strove hard to brave it out were scarcely fit for duty. great heat did not, however, interfere with miles milton's health. he was one of those fortunates who seem to have been made of tougher clay than the average of humanity. but his friend armstrong was laid up for a considerable time. even robert macleod was knocked over for a brief period, and the lively corporal flynn succumbed at last. moses pyne, however, stood the test of hard work and bad climate well, and so, for a time, did sergeant hardy. it was found generally that the abstainers from strong drink suffered less from bad health and unwholesome surroundings than their fellows, and as there were a good many in the regiment, who were constantly endeavouring to convince their comrades of the advantages of total-abstinence, things were not so bad as they might have been. it was about this time that one of the generals who visited suakim instituted athletic games, thereby vastly improving the health and spirits of the men. and now miles milton learned, for the first time, what an immense power there lies in "scientific training!" one evening, when out walking with stevenson, he took it into his head to race with him, and, having been a crack runner at school, he beat him easily. "why, miles," said his friend, when the short race was over, "i had no idea you could run so well. if you choose i will put you in training for the coming sports. you must know that i have run and walked and competed in the track many a time at home, and have trained and brought out runners, who had no notion of what was in them, till i proved it to them by training. will you go in for it, and promise to do as i bid you?" "i have no objection," replied miles, with a light laugh. if he had known what his friend intended to do he might not have agreed so readily, for, from that hour till the day of the sports, stevenson made him go through an amount of running--even after being made stiff by previous runs--that he would never have agreed to undertake unless forced to do so. we say _forced_, because our hero regarded a promise once given as sacred. his was a curiously compound nature, so that while in some points of conduct he was lax--as we have seen--in others he was very strict. he was peculiarly so in regard to promises. his comrades soon came to know this, and ultimately came to consider him a very reliable man. having, then, promised his friend to keep sternly to his work, he did so, with the result that his strength increased wonderfully. another result was that he carried off the first prize in all the races. in order to make the most of time and avoid the evils of noonday heat, it was arranged that the races, etcetera, for the egyptian soldiers and natives in government employ should come off in the morning, and that the british troops should run in the later and cooler parts of the day. with the temperature at degrees in the shade it would have been dangerous for europeans to compete. the sports, including our familiar cricket, were greatly enjoyed, and the result was a decided improvement in the health of the whole force. boat-races were also included in these sports. at the conclusion of one of these, miles, to his great surprise, encountered his old acquaintance of the _sailors' welcome_, big jack molloy. "why, jack!" exclaimed miles, as the hearty tar wrung his hand, "who'd have expected to see _you_ here?" "ah, who indeed? an' i may say ditto." "i'm _very_ glad to see you, molloy, for, to say truth, i thought i had seen the last of you when we parted in the troop-ship. i've often thought of you since, and of our first evening together in the--the-- what was its name?" "the _sailors' welcome_--man alive! i wonder you've forgot it. blessin's on it! _i_ ain't likely to forget it. why, it was there, (did i ever tell you?) the wery night arter i met you, that a messmate took me to the big hall, back o' the readin'-room. it's no use me tryin' fur to tell you all i heard in that there big hall, but when i come out--blow'd if i didn't sign the pledge right away, an' i ain't took a drop o' grog since!" "glad to hear it, jack, for, to say truth, i never saw the evil of grog so clearly as i have since coming out here and seeing strong stout men cast down by it in dozens,--many of them kind-hearted, right-thinking men, whom i would have thought safe from such a thing. indeed i have more than half a mind to join the good templars myself." "young man," said molloy, sternly, "if it takes the death of dozens o' stout kind-hearted men to force you to make up half your mind, how many d'ee want to die before you make up the whole of it?" "but i said that my mind was _more_ than half made up," returned miles, with a smile. "now lookee here," rejoined the sailor earnestly, "it's all wery well for milksops an' nincompoops and landlubbers to go in for half-an'-half work like that, but you're not the man i takes you for if you ain't game for more than that, so i ax you to promise me that you'll sign the pledge right off, as i did, first time you gits the chance." "but you forget i'm only a landlubber who, according to you, is fit for only half-an-half measures," said miles, who, not being addicted to much wine, felt disinclined to bind himself. "no matter," returned the sailor, with deepening earnestness, "if you go in fur it you'll _never_ repent it! take my word for that. now, i ax ye to promise." "well, i _do_ promise--the very first time i get the chance; and that will be to-morrow night, for our new parson has started temperance meetings, and he is a great teetotaller." "an' you promise to stick to it?" added molloy. "when i give a promise i _always_ stick to it!" returned miles gravely. "right you are, lad. give us your flipper!" the foregoing conversation took place at the harbour, a little apart from the noisy group of soldiers and sailors who were discussing the circumstances of the recent boat-race. immediately after it molloy returned to his ship in the harbour, and our hero to his post in the line of defence. one of those who had been conspicuous that day in arranging and starting the races, acting as umpire at the cricket, and, generally, putting heart and spirit into everything by his quiet good-nature and self-denying activity, was the young officer of engineers, who has been already mentioned as the manager of the mines that were laid around suakim. poor fellow! little did he imagine that that was to be his last day on earth! every morning, as before mentioned, this young officer went out alone to perform the dangerous work of disconnecting the mines, so that the inhabitants of the town might go out and in and move about during the day-time in safety. again, a little before sunset every evening, he went out and reconnected them, so that the enemy could not approach the place without the risk of being blown to pieces. at the same time the gates were closed, and no one was allowed to leave or enter the town. on this particular evening the lieutenant went out as usual on his dangerous mission just after six o'clock. he had not been long gone when a loud explosion was heard, and a cloud of smoke was seen where one of the mines had been laid down. a party at once sallied out, and found, as they had feared, that the brave young fellow had perished. he had been literally blown to pieces, his head being found in one place, while other portions of his body were scattered around. this melancholy incident cast a gloom over the whole place. the remains of the heroic young engineer were buried next day with military honours. the garrison was not, however, left long in peace to think over his sad fate, for the very next night a determined attack was made all along the line. the annoying persistency of these attacks seemed to have stirred the indignation of the general in command, for he ordered out a small force of cavalry to carry the war into the enemy's country. critics say that this act was ill advised, and that the cavalry should not have been despatched without the support of infantry. critics are not always or necessarily right. indeed, we may venture to say that they are often wrong! we do not pretend to judge, but, be this as it may, the cavalry was ordered to destroy the village of handoub about fifteen miles inland on the caravan route to berber, and to blow up the enemy's magazine there. the force consisted of a troop of the th hussars, and another of egyptian cavalry--about fifty men all told--under command of captain apthorp. our intemperate friend johnson was one of the little band. he was sober then, however, as he sat bolt upright on his powerful steed, with a very stern and grave visage, for he had a strong impression that the duty before them was no child's-play. a four hours' ride brought them to the village. the few arabs who dwelt in it fled at once on their approach, and in a very short time the place was effectually destroyed, along with a large quantity of ammunition. but no sooner had the soldiers finished the work, and begun to prepare for their return, than they discovered that a large force of the enemy was assembling to cut off their retreat. no time for thought after that! at least six thousand of the foe, having heard of the expedition, had crept down through the thick bush from the direction of hasheen, thirsting for vengeance. two miles on the suakim side of handoub they formed a line and opened fire on the leading cavalry scouts. seeing that the arabs were in such force, captain apthorp at once made for their flank, in the direction of the sea-coast. at full speed, with horses fatigued by a fifteen miles' journey, they had to ride for life. it was neck or nothing now! the egyptian cavalry, under captain gregorie, and accompanied by captain stopford of the grenadier guards and other officers, followed closely. as they went along at racing speed, with more than a dozen miles of wilderness to traverse, and death behind them, private king of the hussars fell from his horse wounded. captain gregorie came up with him, stopped, and took the wounded man up behind him. it was a generous but desperate act, for what could be expected of a double-weighted horse in such a region and with such a race before it? for about half a mile he carried the wounded trooper, who then swooned and fell off, dragging the captain along with him, the freed horse rejoining its troop, while the arabs came yelling on not a hundred and fifty yards behind. there would have been but little chance for captain gregorie at that terrible crisis if self-denying courage equal to his own had not dwelt in the breast of private baker of the hussars. seeing what had occurred, this hero coolly rode back, took the captain up behind him, (see frontispiece,) and, regaining his troop, enabled the latter to capture and remount his own steed. of course poor king--whether dead or alive they could not tell--had to be left to his fate. heroism would seem to feed upon itself and multiply, for this same private baker, soon afterwards, saw two more troopers, and shouted to a comrade to turn back with him to their rescue. the comrade, however, did not see his way to do so. perchance he did not hear! anyhow he galloped on, but captain gregorie hearing the summons, at once answered it, turned, and galloped back with baker. they were only just in time to take up and rescue the two men. at the same time captain stopford performed a similar gallant act in rescuing a dismounted trooper. it is deeds of self-sacrifice and heroism such as these--not the storming of a breach, or the fighting against overwhelming odds--that bring out the noblest qualities of our soldiers, and arouse the admiration of mankind! the race for life was so close run that when the force at last reached the sea-shore it was little more than sixty yards in advance of the foe, and so exhausted were the horses that eight of them fell, and their riders were captured--four being englishmen and four egyptians. it is right to add that one of the egyptians also displayed conspicuous courage in rescuing a comrade. while these stirring incidents were taking place on the plain, miles and some of his comrades were seated on the roof of the redoubt, looking out anxiously for the return of the cavalry. at last, in the afternoon, a cloud of dust was seen on the horizon, and the officers who had glasses could soon make out that the men appeared to be racing towards the town at full speed, while the enemy, on camels and horses, and on foot, were racing down to the sea to cut off their retreat. no sooner was this understood than our men rose with an uncontrollable burst, seized their rifles, flung on ammunition-belts, and rushed out to the rescue, regardless for the moment of the officers shouting to them to come back. the news spread like wildfire, and the men ran out just as they were-- some in white jackets, some in red, others in blue; many in their shirts, with their sleeves rolled up; cavalry, artillery, marines, infantry--all going helter-skelter towards the enemy. fortunately they saw from the ships what was going on, and quickly got their guns to bear, so that the moment our men had escaped clear of the enemy they opened fire. but for this more men would certainly have been lost, for the overtaxed horses were beginning to give in and lose ground. had they been a few minutes later in reaching the sea, it is probable that not a man of that force would have returned to suakim. as it was, the men came in pale and terribly fatigued. the horses could scarcely walk, and two of them died on the following day. note.--since the foregoing was written, we have learned, with profound regret, that the gallant captain gregorie was killed by his horse falling with him in . chapter sixteen. letters from home--flynn is exalted and brought low--rumours of war in the air. events in life sometimes ripple along like the waters of a little stream in summer. at other times they rush with the wild impetuosity of a hill-torrent in winter. for some time after the incidents just narrated the life of our hero rippled--but of course it must be clearly understood that a suakim ripple bore some resemblance to a respectable freshet elsewhere! osman digna either waited for reinforcements before delivering a grand assault, or found sufficient entertainment to his mind, and satisfaction to his ambition, in acting the part of a mosquito, by almost nightly harassment of the garrison, which was thus kept continually on the alert. but there came a time at length when a change occurred in the soldier-life at suakim. events began to evolve themselves in rapid succession, as well as in magnified intensity, until, on one particular day, there came--metaphorically speaking--what is known among the scottish hills as a spate. it began with the arrival of a mail from england. this was not indeed a matter of rare occurrence, but it was one of those incidents of the campaign which never lost its freshness, and always sent a thrill of pleasure to the hearts of the men--powerfully in the case of those who received letters and packets; sympathetically in those who got none. "at long last!" exclaimed corporal flynn, who was observed by his comrades, after the delivery of the mail, to be tenderly struggling with the complicated folds of a remarkable letter--remarkable for its crookedness, size, dirt, and hieroglyphic superscription. "what is it, flynn?" asked moses--one of the unfortunates who had received no letter by that mail. "a letter, sure. haven't ye got eyes, moses?" "from your wife, corporal?" "wife!" exclaimed flynn, with scorn; "no! it's mesilf wouldn't take the gift of a wife gratis. the letter is from me owld grandmother, an' she's better to me than a dozen wives rowled into wan. it's hard work the writin' of it cost her too--poor owld sowl! but she'd tear her eyes out to plaze me, she would. `corporal, darlint,'--that's always the way she begins her letters now; she's that proud o' me since i got the stripes. i thowt me mother or brother would have writ me too, but they're not half as proud of me as my--" "shut up, flynn!" cried one of the men, who was trying to decipher a letter, the penmanship of which was obviously the work of an unaccustomed hand. "howld it upside down; sometimes they're easier to read that way--more sinsible-like," retorted the corporal. "blessin's on your sweet face!" exclaimed armstrong, looking at a photograph which he had just extracted from his letter. "hallo, bill! that your sweetheart?" asked sergeant hardy, who was busy untying a parcel. "ay, sweetheart an' wife too," answered the young soldier, with animation. "let me see it, willie," said miles, who was also one of the disconsolate non-receivers, disconsolate because he had fully expected a reply to the penitent letter which he had written to his mother. "first-rate, that's emmy to a tee. a splendid likeness!" exclaimed miles, holding the photograph to the light. "arrah! then, it's dead he must be!" the extreme perplexity displayed in flynn's face as he said this and scratched his head produced a hearty laugh. "it's no laughin' matter, boys," cried the corporal, looking up with an expression so solemn that his comrades almost believed it to be genuine. "there's my owld uncle macgrath gone to his long home, an' he was the support o' me grandmother. och! what'll she do now wid him gone an' me away at the wars?" "won't some other relation look after her, flynn?" suggested moses. "other relation!" exclaimed the corporal; "i've got no other relations, an' them that i have are as poor as rats. no, uncle macgrath was the only wan wid a kind heart an' a big purse. you see, boys, he was rich-- for an irishman. he had a grand farm, an' a beautiful bit o' bog. och! it'll go hard wid--" "read on, flynn, and hold your tongue," cried one of his comrades; "p-r-aps he's left the old woman a legacy." the corporal did read on, and during the perusal of the letter the change in his visage was marvellous, exhibiting as it did an almost magical transition from profound woe, through abrupt gradations of surprise, to intense joy. "hooray!" he shouted, leaping up and bestowing a vigorous slap on his thigh. "he's gone an' left the whole farm an' the beautiful bog to me!" "what hae ye got there, sergeant?" asked saunders, refolding the letter he had been quietly perusing without paying any regard to the irishman's good news. "a parcel of booklets from the institute," answered hardy, turning over the leaves of one of the pamphlets. "ain't it good of 'em?" "right you are, hardy! the ladies there never forget us," said moses pyne. "hand 'em round, sergeant. it does a fellow's heart good to get a bit o' readin' in an out-o'-the-way place like this." "comes like light in a dark place, don't it, comrade?" said stevenson, the marine, who paid them a visit at that moment, bringing a letter which had been carried to the wrong quarter by mistake. it was for miles milton. "i know'd you expected it, an' would be awfully disappointed at finding nothing, so i brought it over at once." "_you_ come like a gleam of sunshine in a dark place. thanks, stevenson, many thanks," said miles, springing up and opening the letter eagerly. the first words sent a chill to his heart, for it told of his father having been very ill, but words of comfort immediately followed--he was getting slowly but surely better, and his own letter had done the old man more good in a few days than all the doctor's physic had done in many weeks. forgiveness was freely granted, and unalterable love breathed in every line. with a relieved and thankful heart he went on reading, when he was arrested by a sudden summons of his company to fall in. grasping his rifle he ran out with the rest. "what is it?" he whispered to a sergeant, as he took his place in the ranks. "osman again?" "no, he's too sly a fox to show face in the day-time. it's a steamer coming with troops aboard. we're goin' down to receive them, i believe." soon after, the overworked garrison had the immense satisfaction and excitement of bidding welcome to reinforcements with a stirring british cheer. these formed only the advance-guard. for some time after that troops were landed at suakim every day. among them the th sikhs, a splendid body of men, with grand physique and fierce aspect, like men who "meant business." then came the coldstream guards, the scots and the grenadier guards, closely followed by the engineers and hospital and transport corps, the shropshire regiment, and many others. the desire of these fresh troops to meet the enemy was naturally strong, and the earnest hope of every one was that they would soon sally forth and "have a go," as corporal flynn expressed it, "at osman digna on his own ground." poor corporal flynn! his days of soldiering were nearly over! whether it was the excess of strong feeling raised in the poor fellow's breast by the news of the grand and unexpected legacy, or the excitement caused by the arrival of so many splendid troops and the prospect of immediate action--or all put together--we cannot say, but certain it is that the corporal fell sick, and when the doctors examined the men with a view to decide who should march to the front, and who should remain to guard the town, he was pronounced unfit for active service. worse than that, he was reported to have entered upon that journey from which no traveller returns. but poor flynn would not admit it, though he grew weaker from day to day. at last it was reported that he was dying, and sergeant hardy got leave to go off to the hospital ship to see him, and convey to him many a kind message from his sorrowful comrades, who felt that the regiment could ill spare his lively, humorous spirit. the sergeant found him the picture of death, and almost too weak to speak. "my dear fellow," said hardy, sitting down by his cot and gently taking his hand, "i'm sorry to see you like this. i'm afraid you are goin' to leave us." the corporal made a slight motion with his head, as if of dissent, and his lips moved. hardy bent his ear over them. "niver a bit, owld man," whispered flynn. "shall i read the bible to you, lad?" inquired the sergeant. the corporal smiled faintly, and nodded. after reading a few verses hardy began to talk kindly and earnestly to the dying man, who lay with his eyes closed. when he was about to leave, flynn looked up, and, giving his comrade's hand a gentle squeeze, said, in a stronger whisper than before-- "thankee, sergeant. it's kind o' ye to be so consarned about my sowl, and i agrees wid ivery word ye say; but i'm not goin' away yit, av ye plaze." he ceased to speak, and again closed his eyes. the doctor and the chaplain chanced to enter the hospital together as hardy retired. the result of their visit was that they said the corporal was dead, and orders were given to make his coffin. a firing party was also told off to bury him the next morning with military honours. early next morning, accordingly, the firing party started for the hospital ship with the coffin, but, before getting half-way to it, they were signalled to go back, for the man was not yet dead! in short, corporal flynn had begun to talk in a wild way about his estate in ireland, and his owld grandmother; and either the influence of these thoughts, or hardy's visit, had given him such a fillip that from that day he began to revive. nevertheless he had received a very severe shake, and, not very long after, was invalided home. meanwhile, as we have said, busy preparations were being made by general graham--who had arrived and taken command of the forces--to offer battle to osman's troops. in the midst of all the excitement and turmoil, however, the new chaplain, who turned out to be "a trump," managed to hold a temperance meeting; and the men who desired to serve god as well as their queen and country became more energetic than ever in trying to influence their fellows and save themselves from the curse of strong drink, which had already played such havoc among the troops at suakim. miles attended the meeting, and, according to promise, signed the total-abstinence pledge. owing to the postponement of meetings and the press of duty he had not been able to do it sooner. shortly after that he was passed by the doctors as fit for duty in the field. so were armstrong, moses pyne, and most of those strong and healthy men whose fortunes we have followed thus far. then came the bustle and excitement of preparation to go out and attack the enemy, and in the midst of it all the air was full of conflicting rumours--to the effect that osman digna was about to surrender unconditionally; that he would attack the town in force; that he was dead; or that he had been summoned to a conference by the mahdi! "you may rest assured," said sergeant hardy one day to his comrades, as they were smoking their pipes after dinner, "that nobody knows anything at all for certain about the rebel chief." "i heard that a spy has just come in with the information that he has determined not to wait for our attack, if we go out, but to attack us in our zereba," said miles. "he is evidently resolved not to commit the same mistake he made last year of letting us attack _him_." "he has pluck for anything," remarked moses. osman proved, that same evening, that he had at least pluck enough to send a pithy defiance to his foes, for an insulting letter was received by general graham, in which osman, recounting the victories he had gained over hicks and baker pasha, boasted of his having destroyed their armies, and dared the general to come out and fight him. to this the british general replied, reminding osman of our victories of el-teb and tamai, and advising him to surrender unless he wanted a worse beating than he had got before! mutual defiance having been thus comfortably hurled, the troops were at once detailed for service in the field, and the very next day set forth. as our hero did not, however, accompany that expedition, and as it returned to suakim without doing anything remarkable--except some energetic and even heroic fighting, which is by no means remarkable in british troops,--we will pass on to the expedition which was sent out immediately after it, and in which miles milton not only took an active part, but distinguished himself. with several of his comrades he also entered on a new and somewhat unusual phase of a soldier's career. chapter seventeen. the expedition--enemy reported--miles in a dilemma. every one has heard of the expedition, sent out under sir john mcneill, in which that gallant general and his brave troops fought with indomitable heroism, not only against courageous foes, but against errors which, as a civilian, we will not presume to criticise, and against local difficulties which were said to be absolutely insurmountable. blame was due somewhere in connection with that expedition. wherever it lay, we have a strong conviction--founded on the opinion of one who was present--that it did not rest with the commander of the force. it is not, however, our part to comment, but to describe those events which bore upon the fortunes of our hero and his immediate friends and comrades. it was about four o'clock on an uncommonly hot morning that the bugle sounded in suakim, and soon the place was alive with men of all arms, devouring a hasty breakfast and mustering eagerly, for they were elated at the near prospect of having "another slap at osman!" strange, the unaccountably exultant joy which so many men experience at the prospect of killing each other! no doubt the briton maintains that it is all in defence of queen and country, hearth and home. an excellent reason, of course! but may not the soudanese claim that the defence of chief and country, tent and home, is an equally good reason-- especially when he rises to defend himself from the exactions and cruelty of those superlative tyrants, the turks, or rather, the turkish pashas?--for we verily believe that the rank and file of all civilised nations would gladly live at peace if their rulers would deal in arbitration instead of war! we almost feel that an apology is due for introducing such a remark in a book about soldiers, for their duty is clear as well as hard, and bravely is it done too. moreover, they are in no way responsible for the deeds of those: "fine old english gentlemen who sit at home at ease, and send them forth to fight and die beyond the stormy seas!" the troops composing this expedition consisted of one squadron of the th lancers, one battalion berkshire regiment, one battalion of marines, one field company royal engineers, a detachment of the royal navy in charge of four gardner guns, a regiment of sikhs, bengal native infantry, bombay native infantry, and a body of madras sappers. along with these was sent an immense convoy of camels, besides a large number of mules with carts bearing iron water-tanks. the orders for the expedition were that they should proceed eight miles into the bush, and there make three zerebas, or defensive enclosures of bushes, capable of sheltering the entire force. the march was begun by mcneill moving off with his european troops in square formation. the indian contingent, under general hudson, followed, also in square, and in charge of the transport. "a goodly force!" remarked armstrong, in a low tone to miles, as they stepped off, shoulder to shoulder, for, being both about the same size, and unusually tall, they marched together on the right flank of their company. "don't speak in the ranks, willie," returned miles, with a slight smile, for he could not shut his eyes to the fact that this strict regard for orders was due more to marion drew's remarks about a soldier's _duty_ than to principle. "h'm!" grunted robert macleod, who marched next to them, and had no conscientious scruples about talking, "we may mairch oot smert eneugh, but some o' us'll no' come back sae hearty." "some of us will never come back at all," replied armstrong, gravely. by six o'clock the rear-guard had left suakim, and the whole of the force moved across the plain, in parts of which the men and carts sank deep in the soft sand, while in other parts the formations were partly broken by thick bush, in which the force became somewhat entangled. the cavalry went in advance as scouts. the guns, water-carts, and ammunition-wagons were in the centre, and the indian brigade came last, surrounding the unwieldy mass of baggage-animals. last of all came the telegraph detachment, unrolling as they went the wire that kept open communication with head-quarters. that a mistake had been made somewhere was obvious; but as the soul of military discipline is obedience without question, the gallant leader pressed forward, silently and steadily, whatever he may have thought. soon the force became so hopelessly entangled in the difficulties of the way, that the rate of advance dwindled down to little more than one mile an hour. not long after starting a trooper was seen galloping back, and miles, who marched at the right corner of his square, observed that it was his friend johnson, looking very stern indeed. their eyes met. "not half enough of cavalry," he growled, as he flew past to report, "the enemy in sight--retiring in small parties in the direction of tamai." in returning, johnson again rode close past the same corner of the square, and, bending low in his saddle for a moment, said to miles, "i have signed the pledge, my boy." a slight laugh from several of those who heard him greeted the information, but he probably did not hear it, for next moment his charger cleared a low bush in a magnificent stride, and in a few seconds man and horse were lost to sight in the bush. "more need to sign his will," remarked simkin, in a somewhat cynical tone. "he has done that too," said armstrong. "i heard him say so before we started." the troops were halted to enable the two generals to consult at this point. while the men stood at ease, enjoying the brief rest from severe toil under such a burning sun, our hero heard a low voice at his elbow say-- "have _you_ signed your will, john miles?" it was a startling, as well as a sudden, question! miles turned quickly and found that it was captain lacey who had put it. the feeling of dislike with which our young soldier had regarded the captain ever since his interruption of the conversation between himself and marion, on board ship, had abated, but had not by any means disappeared. he had too much sense, however, to allow the state of his feelings to influence his looks or bearing. "yes, sir," he replied; "i made it out last night, as you advised me, in the service form. it was witnessed by our colonel and captain smart and the doctor. to say truth, i thought it absurd for a man who has nothing to leave to make his will, but as you said, sir, i should like my dear mother to get my kit and any arrears of pay that may be due to me after i'm gone." "i did not mean you to take such a gloomy view of your prospects," said captain lacey, with a laugh. "but you know in our profession we always carry our lives in our hands, and it would be foolish not to take ordinary precautions--" the order to resume the march here cut short the conversation, and the force continued its slow and all but impossible advance. indeed it was soon seen that to reach the distance of eight miles out, in the circumstances, was quite beyond the power of the troops, willing, anxious, and vigorous though they were, for the bush became closer and higher as they advanced, so that a mounted man could not see over it, and so dense that the squares, though only a short distance apart, could not see each other. this state of things rendered the management of the baggage-animals extremely difficult, for mules are proverbially intractable, and camels--so meek in pictures!--are perhaps the most snarling, biting, kicking, ill-tempered animals in the world. the day was advancing and the heat increasing, while the dust raised by the passage of such a host caused so much distress to man and beast that the general began to fear that, if an attack should be made by the enemy at that time, the greater part of the transport would have to be sacrificed. the force was therefore halted a second time, and the generals again met to consult. they were very unwilling to give in. another effort to advance was made, but things grew worse and worse. the day, as moses remarked, was boiling red-hot! the carts with the heavy water-tanks sank deep in the soft sand; many of the camels' loads fell off, and these had to be replaced. replacing a camel's load implies prevailing on a hideously tall and horribly stubborn creature to kneel, and this in the centre of a square which was already blocked up with carts and animals, as well as shouting, angry, and exhausted drivers! at last it became evident that further progress that day was out of the question. the rear face of hudson's square was obliterated by the straggling and struggling multitude; camels and loads were down in all directions, and despair of maintaining their formation was settling down on all ranks. in these circumstances it became absolutely necessary to halt and form their zerebas where they stood--and that without delay. the best place they could find was selected. the european square formed a guard, while the rest threw off jackets, and, with axes and choppers, went to work with a will. some cut down bushes, some filled sandbags to form a breastwork for guns and ammunition, and others erected the bushy walls of their woodland fortification. the lancers covered about three miles of country as scouts. hudson--who had to return to suakim that night before dark--was ordered, with three regiments in line and advanced files, to cover mcneill and the working-party, while the commander himself went about encouraging the tired men, and urging them to increased exertion. while the soldiers of all arms were thus busily engaged, a body of sailors was ordered to run one of their gardner guns up to the corner of the square where miles and armstrong stood. they halted close to them, and then miles became aware that one of the nautical gunners was no other than jack molloy. "hallo, jack! why, you've got a knack of turning up unexpectedly everywhere!" he exclaimed, when his friend was at leisure. "that's wery much your own case," retorted the seaman heartily. "what brought _you_ here?" miles slapped one of his legs by way of indicating the mode of conveyance. "ay, lad, and they'd need to be stout timbers too, to make headway through such a sea of sand," returned molloy, feeling his own limbs with tenderness. "d'ee think we're in for a brush to-night, lad?" before the latter could reply, an aide-de-camp ran up and spoke a few hurried words to captain lacey, who turned to his company and called them to attention. "fours, right--quick march!" he said, and away they went, past the flank of hudson's men, to guard a hollow which left that part of the square somewhat exposed. when halted and drawn up in line several files were thrown out in advance. miles and sutherland formed the flanking file on the right, the latter being rear-rank man to the former. "it's a grand hiding-hole," observed sutherland, as he peered cautiously over the edge of a low bank into a hollow where rocks and undergrowth were thickly intermingled. "keep a sharp look-out on your left, sutherland," said miles, "i will guard the right--" he stopped abruptly and threw forward his rifle, for at that moment he observed a swarthy, black-bearded arab, of large proportions and muscular frame, creeping forward a short distance below him. evidently he had not heard or seen the approach of the two soldiers, for he was gazing in a different direction from them. miles raised his rifle and took aim at the man, but he felt an unconquerable repugnance to shoot. he had never yet met the enemy hand-to-hand. his experience heretofore had been confined to long-range firing at men who were firing at himself and his comrades, and in which, of course, he could not be sure that his bullets took effect. but now he was within fifty yards of a splendid-looking man who did not see him, who was, at the moment, innocent of any intention of injuring him, and whose expressive side-face he could clearly distinguish as he crept along with great caution towards a rock which hid the zereba of the europeans from his view. miles was a good rifle-shot. a touch of the trigger he knew would be certain death to the arab. "i _cannot_ do it!" he muttered, as he lowered his weapon and looked back over his shoulder at his comrade. the scot, who was something of a naturalist, was engrossed at the moment in the contemplation of a little bird which was twittering on a twig in quite an opposite direction. miles glanced again at the arab in a flutter of agitation as to what was his duty. the man _might_ be one of the friendly natives! he could not tell. at that moment another man appeared on the scene. he was a thin but powerful native, and armed with a short spear, such as is used when fighting at close quarters. he obviously was not troubled with scruples about committing murder, and miles soon became aware that the thin man was "stalking" the big arab--with what intent, of course, our soldier could only guess, but the malignant expression of the savage's countenance left little doubt on that point. here was a complication! our hero was on the point of calling sutherland from the contemplation of his little bird when he saw the thin native pounce on the arab, who was still creeping on hands and knees. he turned just in time to divert the first spear-thrust, but not in time to draw his own long knife from its sheath as he fell. the thin savage holding him down, and having him at terrible disadvantage on his back, raised his spear, and was about to repeat the deadly thrust when miles fired and shot him in the head. the arab rose, shook himself clear of the dying man, and, with astounding coolness, walked calmly towards a large rock, though miles was reloading in haste, and sutherland was taking steady aim at him. he looked at the soldiers and held up his hand with something like a smile of remonstrance, as sutherland pulled the trigger. at the same moment miles struck up the muzzle, and the ball whizzed over the arab's head as he passed behind the rock and disappeared. "what for did ye that?" demanded the scot fiercely. "would you kill a man that was smiling at you?" retorted miles. the two men ran back to report to their company what they had seen. at the same moment, the company, being recalled, doubled back to its position in the square. here they found the defence work so far advanced that the generals were beginning to feel some confidence in their being able to repel any attack. at the same time the men were working with tremendous energy, for news had just come in that the enemy was advancing in strong force. chapter eighteen. wherein are described an assault, a furious fight, and some strange personal encounters. it was nearly two o'clock in the afternoon when captain lacey and his company resumed their place in the square. about that time an officer of the berkshire regiment represented the condition of his men as requiring attention. they certainly did require it, for they had been without food since four o'clock that morning, and were consequently in urgent need of provender as well as rest and water--the last having been all consumed. as it was imperative that the work should go on, it was found necessary to serve out food by wings. accordingly, the men of one half-battalion received rations and water, and were then sent to their zereba with the gardner guns, while the other half, still lying in reserve by their piled arms, received their rations. the marines also sat down for brief rest and refreshment. among them was our sedate friend stevenson, who invariably carried his small bible with him in all his campaigns. after quickly consuming his allowance, and while waiting for water, he sat down to read a few verses of the rd psalm,--for stevenson was one of those quiet, fearless men who cannot be laughed out of doing right, and who have no fear of the face of man, whether scowling in anger or sneering in contempt. "hallo, tom!" said a light-hearted comrade near him, "this is a queer time to be readin' your bible. we'll be havin' you sayin' your prayers next!" "i've said _them_ already, fred," replied the marine, replacing the book in his pouch. "as you say, it _is_ a queer time to be readin' the word, but not an unsuitable time, for this may be the last chance that you and i will ever have of readin' it. our next orders may be to meet god face to face." stevenson was yet speaking when a lancer was seen approaching at a wild gallop. he dashed up to the generals and informed them that the enemy was gathering in front. the message was barely delivered when another lancer rode up and reported the enemy close at hand. the order, "stand to your arms!" was promptly given and as promptly obeyed, without flurry or disorder. next minute a wild uproar was heard, and the lancers were seen galloping towards the square with thousands of the swarthy warriors of the desert at their heels--nay, even mixed up with them! on they came, a dark, frantic, yelling host, with irresistible fury, and, perchance, patriotism! shall we deny to those men what we claim for ourselves--love of hearth and home, of country, of freedom? can we not sympathise with men who groaned under an insolent and tyrannical yoke, and who, failing to understand or appreciate, the purity of the motives by which we british were actuated, could see nothing in us except the supporters of their enemies? they hurled themselves on that part of the large zereba which was defended by the bengal native infantry. these fired a volley, but failed to check the impetuous rush. everything went down before the savages, and the native infantry broke and fled, throwing into dire confusion the transport animals which stood in their immediate rear. general mcneill himself dashed in among the panic-stricken men and sought to arrest them. he succeeded for a time in rallying some of them in number zereba, but another rush of the arabs sent them flying a second time, and some of the enemy got into the square, it is said, to the number of . the berkshire men, however, stood fast, and not a soul who got into that square ever got out of it alive. in this wretched affair the th bengal native infantry lost their brave commander. he was killed while trying to rally them. the confusion was now increased by the enemy driving the baggage-animals hither and thither, especially on to another half-battalion square of the berkshire regiment. here, however, they were effectually checked. as the atlantic billows burst in impotent turmoil on the cliffs of cornwall, so the enemy fell upon and were hurled back by the steadfast berkshire regiment, which scarcely lost a man, while over two hundred of their opponents lay dead around them. the bombay regiment also stood fast, and redeemed, to some extent, the credit of their country; while the sikhs, as might have been expected of them, never flinched for a moment, but strewed the plain around them with dead and dying men. there was horrible carnage for some time--unflinching valour being opposed to desperate courage; and while a burning sense of injury, with a resolve to conquer or die, was the motive power, no doubt, on one side, on the other there was the high sense of duty to queen and country, and the pride of historical renown. owing to the suddenness of the attack, and the occupation of the troops at the moment, there was some mixing up of men of different regiments. one company of sikhs, who were helping to unload the camels when the fight began, having been prevented from joining their own regiment, cast in their lot with the marines. the better to help their european comrades these vigorous fellows leaped outside the zereba and lay down in front of it, and the two bodies together gave the charging foe such a warm reception that they never got within twenty yards of them. but there was a fearful scene of butchery among the baggage-animals, and many unequal hand-to-hand conflicts. there was terrible slaughter also among the working parties that had gone out to cut bushes with which to finish the zerebas, with coats off and away from their arms. some individuals of the marines, who, as a body, suffered severely, were surrounded by a dozen arabs, and their bodies were afterwards found covered with spear-wounds. this was the case with a sergeant named mitchel, who had charge of a wood-cutting party and had been quietly chatting with our friend stevenson just before the attack. another case was that of private stanton, who had been through the egyptian campaign of , had fought at kassassin, tel-el-kebir, el-teb, and tamai. when this expedition of which we write was arranged, he was one of the first to volunteer. he chanced to be outside the zereba when the attack was made, and failed to appear at muster. next day he was found dead, with many spear-wounds, at some distance from the force. poor fellow! he had not been killed outright, and had attempted to crawl towards the zerebas, but in his confusion had crept away in the wrong direction, and had slowly bled to death on the sands of the desert. during the rapid progress of this terrible scene of bloodshed, miles and his friend armstrong stood and fought shoulder to shoulder in the front rank at their allotted corner of the square--chiefly with bullet, but also, on several occasions, with bayonet, when the rush of the enemy threatened to break through all barriers, and drive in the line of defenders. they would certainly have succeeded, had these defenders been less powerful and resolute. "well done!" exclaimed a deep bass voice, in evident enthusiasm, close to miles. the latter glanced round. it was the voice of his friend jack molloy, who helped to work the gardner gun, and who was at the moment admiring the daring act of an officer of sikhs. two men of the berkshire regiment, who had been employed outside the zereba, were pursued by several arabs, and it was evident that their death was almost certain, when the sikh officer referred to rushed out to the rescue, sprang between the men and their pursuers, killed three of the latter in succession with three rapid sword-cuts, and enabled the soldiers to escape, besides which, he checked the rush at that part of the square, and returned to his post in safety. the cheer of the berkshire men and others who witnessed this feat was heard to rise above even the yells of combatants, the shrieks of the wounded, the rattle and crash of fire-arms, and the general turmoil and din of war. in one of the working parties that were out when the assault began was our friend moses pyne and his comrade rattling bill simkin. these had been separated from the rest of their party when the first wild rush was made by the foe. the formation of the ground favoured their dropping into a place of concealment, thus for the moment saving them from the fate of being surrounded and cut to pieces, like too many of their straggling comrades. for a few seconds they lay close while the enemy rushed past like a torrent, to the assault just described. then moses uprose, with an expression of stern resolve on his usually meek countenance. "simkin," he said, as his comrade also got up, "i'm not goin' to lie hidin' here while our boys are engaged wi' the savages." "no more am i, moses," returned rattling bill, with something of the jovially reckless air still lingering on his solemnised visage. "but we've not much chance of getting back to the zerebas without arms." "what d'ee call _that_?" asked moses, holding out his chopper. "a very good weapon to fight the bush with," answered simkin, "but not worth much against arab spears. however, comrade, choppers are all we have got, so we must make the most of 'em. they say a good workman can work with any tools. what d'ee propose to try? i'll put myself under your orders, moses; for, although you are a meekish sort of a fellow, i really believe you have a better headpiece than most of us." "i propose that we simply go at 'em," said moses. "take 'em in rear, cut our way through, and get into the zereba--that's all. it don't take much of a headpiece to think that out." "go ahead, then! i'll back you," said rattling bill, without the least touch of bravado, as he bared his right arm to the shoulder. both men were in shirts and trousers, with sleeves tucked up and their brawny arms exposed--arabesquely brown up to the elbow, and infantinely white above that! the intended rush might have been successful, but for a change in the tactics of the enemy. seeing that they were severely repulsed at the corner of the square, where molloy and his tars worked the gardner gun, while miles and his comrades plied bullet and bayonet, the arab chief sent a body of his followers to reinforce this point. it was just at the moment that moses and simkin made the dash from their place of concealment, so that they actually leaped, without having intended it, into the very midst of the reinforcements! two of the arabs went down before the choppers instantly, and the others--almost panic-stricken by the suddenness and severity of the assault--turned to fly, supposing, no doubt, that an ambush had caught them. but seeing only two men they ran back, and would certainly have made short work of them if rescuers had not come up. and at this point in the fight there was exhibited a curious instance of the power of friendship to render steady men reckless. the incident we have just described was witnessed by the troops, for, the moment the two soldiers left their place of concealment they were in full view of the large zereba. "that's moses!" exclaimed armstrong excitedly. without a moment's hesitation he sprang over the defence-works and ran to the rescue, clubbing his rifle as he went and felling two arabs therewith. "you shan't die alone, willie!" muttered our hero, as he also leaped the fence and followed his friend, just in time to save him from three arabs who made at him simultaneously. two of these miles knocked down; his comrade felled the other. then they turned back to back; moses and simkin did the same, and thus formed a little _impromptu_ rallying square. this delayed the catastrophe, which seemed, however, inevitable. the brave little quartette, being surrounded by foes, could do nothing but parry with almost lightning speed the spear-thrusts that were made at them continually. seeing this, the heart of jack molloy bounded within him, and friendship for the moment overcame the sense of duty. "you can only die once, jack!" he exclaimed, drew his cutlass, leaped out of the zereba, and went at the foe with a thunderous roar, which, for a moment, actually made them quail. infected with a similar spirit, stevenson, the marine, also lost his head, if we may say so. resolving to run a-muck for friendship's sake, he followed the sailor, and increased the rallying square to five, while molloy skirmished round it, parrying spear-thrusts, at once with left arm and cutlass, in quite a miraculous manner, roaring all the time like an infuriated lion, and causing the enemy to give back in horror wherever he made a rush. a root, however, tripped him up at last, and he fell forward headlong to the ground. a dozen spears were pointed at his broad back, when a tall majestic arab sprang forward and held up one hand, while with the other he waved a sword. at that moment a strong force of the enemy came down with an impetuous rush on that corner of the zereba, and, coming between it and the little knot of combatants, hid them from view. the attack at this point was very determined, and for a few moments the issue seemed doubtful, for although the enemy fell in heaps they came on in such numbers that the defenders were almost overwhelmed. steadiness, however, combined with indomitable courage, prevailed. everywhere they were repulsed with tremendous loss. many instances of personal bravery occurred, of course, besides those we have described, but we may not pause to enumerate these. tenacity of life, also, was curiously exhibited in the case of some of the desperately wounded. one man in charge of two mules outside the zereba was trying to bring them in when he was attacked, and received three terrible spear-wounds in the back and one in the arm, which cut all the muscles and sinews. yet this man ultimately recovered, though, of course, with the loss of his arm. another man lost a leg and an arm, and was badly wounded in the other leg and in the hand, and, lastly, he was shot in the jaw. after being operated on, and having his wounds dressed, the doctor asked him how he felt. "all right, sir," he answered. "they've crippled me in arms and legs, and they've broke my jaw, but, thank god, they have not broke my heart yet!" it was eight minutes to three when the arabs made their first rush, and it was just ten minutes past three when the enemy was finally repelled and the bugle sounded "cease firing." yet into these pregnant eighteen minutes all that we have described, and a vast deal more, was crowded. nearly four hundred of our men were killed and wounded, while the enemy, it is believed, lost over two thousand. it is said by those who were present at the engagement that the officers of the th bengal infantry were heard to say that if their men had not given way, there would have been no "disaster" at all, and general mcneill instead of being accused of permitting himself to be surprised, would have got credit for a heroic defence against overwhelming odds. if he had carried out his instructions, and pressed on to the end of eight miles, instead of prudently halting when he did, there can be no doubt that the force would have been surprised and absolutely cut to pieces. chapter nineteen. refers to sergeant hardy, amytoor-lawyer sutherland, and other matters. among the wounded in the great fight which we have just described was hardy the sergeant. his position at the time the arabs broke into the square was close to the right flank of the indian native regiment, which gave way, so that it was he and a number of the flank men of his company who had to do most of the hand-to-hand fighting necessary to repair the disaster and drive back the enemy. of course every soldier engaged in that part of the fight was, for a time, almost overwhelmed in the confusion, and many of them were surrounded and severely wounded. when the native infantry broke, hardy's captain sprang to the front, sword in hand, and cut down two of the foe. as he did so, he was, for a moment, separated from his company and surrounded. a powerful arab was on the point of thrusting his spear into the captain's back when hardy observed his danger, bayoneted the arab, and saved the officer. but it was almost at the cost of his own life, for another arab, with whom he had been fighting at the moment, took advantage of the opportunity to thrust his spear into the chest of the sergeant, who fell, as was thought, mortally wounded. this, however, was not the case, for when the fight was over, his wound, although dangerous, was not supposed to be fatal, and he went into hospital on returning to suakim. he was a blue light, and his temperance habits told in his favour. so did his religion, for the calm equanimity with which he submitted to the will of god, and bore his sufferings, went far to assist the doctor in grappling with his wound. but his religion did more than that, for when he thought of the heaven that awaited him, if he should die, and of being "for ever with the lord," his heart was filled with joy; and joy not only "does not kill,"--it is absolutely a source of life. in the sergeant's case it formed an important factor in restoring him to partial health. one evening, some time after the battle of mcneill's zereba, sutherland and gaspard redgrave were seated beside the sergeant's bed--cheering him up a bit, as they said--and chatting about the details of the recent fight. once or twice the sergeant had tried to lead the conversation to religious subjects, but without success, for neither sutherland nor gaspard were seriously disposed, and both fought shy of such matters. "well, it's very kind of you to come an' cheer me up, lads," said hardy at last; "and i hope i may live to do the same for you, if either of you ever gets knocked over. now, i want each of you to do me a favour. will you promise?" "of course we will," said gaspard quickly. "if we can," said the more cautious scot. "well, then, gaspard, will you sing me a song? i think it would do me good." "with the greatest pleasure," answered the soldier; "but," he added, looking round doubtfully, "i don't know how they might like it here." "they'll not object; besides, you can sing low. you've got the knack of singin' soft--better than any man i ever heard." "well, what shall it be?" returned the gratified gaspard. "one of sankey's hymns," said the sergeant, with the remotest semblance of a twinkle in his eye, as he took a small hymn-book from under his pillow and gave it to his friend. gaspard did not seem to relish the idea of singing hymns, but he had often heard the blue lights sing them, and could not plead ignorance of the tunes; besides, being a man of his word, he would not refuse to fulfil his promise. "sing number , `shall we gather at the river?' i'm very fond of that hymn." in a sweet, soft, mellow voice, that charmed all who were within hearing, gaspard began the hymn, and when he had finished there was heard more than one "amen" and "thank god" from the neighbouring beds. "yes, comrades, we shall gather there," said the sergeant, after a brief pause, "for the same almighty saviour who saved _me_ died for _you_ as well. i ain't used to wettin' my cheeks, as _you_ know, lads, but i s'pose my wound has weakened me a bit! now sutherland, the favour i have to ask of--" "if ye're thinkin' o' askin' me to pray," broke in the alarmed scotsman, "ye may save your breath. when i promised, i said, `if i _can_.' noo, i can _not_ pray, an' it's nae use askin' me to try. whatever i may come to in this warld, i'll no be a heepycrit for ony leevin' man." "quite right, sutherland--quite right. i had no intention of asking you to pray," replied hardy, with a faint smile. "what i want you to do is to draw out my will for me." "oh! i'm quite willin' to do that," returned the relieved scot. "you see," continued the sergeant, "one never knows what may be the result of a bad wound in a climate like this, and if it pleases my father in heaven to call me home, i should like the few trifles i possess to go in the right direction." "that's a wise-like sentiment," returned his friend, with an approving nod and thoughtful frown. "now, as you write a capital hand, and know how to express yourself on paper," continued hardy, "it strikes me that you will do the job better than any one else; and, being a friend, i feel that i can talk freely to you on my private affairs. so you'll help me?" "i'm wullin' to try, serjint, and ac' the legal adviser--amytoor-like, ye ken." "thank you. can you come to-morrow morning?" "no, serjint, i canna, because i've to start airly the morn's mornin' wi' a pairty to meet the scots gairds comin' back frae tamai, but the moment i come back i'll come to ye." "that will do--thank you. and now, gaspard, what's the news from england? i hear that a mail has just come in." "news that will make your blood boil," said gaspard sternly. "it would take a good deal of powerful news to boil the little blood that is left in me," said hardy, languidly. "well, i don't know. anyhow it makes mine boil. what d'you think of mcneill's brave defence being represented in the papers as a disaster?" "you don't mean that!" "indeed i do. they say that it was a disaster! whereas it was a splendid defence under singularly adverse circumstances! they say that general mcneill permitted himself to be surprised! if he had tried to carry out his instructions to the full extent, it would indeed have been such a surprise that the surprising thing would have been if a single man of us had returned alive to tell the tale--as you and i know full well. the truth is, it was the fault of the intelligence department that nearly wrecked us, and it was mcneill's prudence and our pluck that saved us, and yet these quill-drivers at home--bah!" the soldier rose in hot indignation and strode from the room. "he's a wee thing roosed!" remarked sutherland, with a good-humoured yet slightly cynical grin. "but guid-nicht to ye, ma man. keep up hert an' i'll come an' draft yer wull i' the mornin'." so saying the "amytoor" lawyer took his departure, and was soon tramping over the desert sands with a band of his comrades. they were not, however, permitted to tramp in peace, for their indefatigable foe hung on their skirts and annoyed them the greater part of the way. toward evening they met the guards, and as it was too late to return to suakim the force bivouacked in mcneill's deserted zereba, surrounded by graves and scarcely buried corpses. only those who were there can fully understand what that meant. all round the zereba, and for three miles on the suakim side of it, the ground was strewn thickly with the graves of europeans, indians, and arabs, and so shallow were these that from each of them there oozed a dark, dreadful stain. to add to the horrors of the scene, portions of mangled and putrefying corpses protruded from many of them--ghastly skulls, from the sockets of which the eyes had been picked by vultures and other obscene birds. limbs of brave men upon which the hyena had already begun his dreadful work, and half-skeleton hands, with fingers spread and bent as if still clutching the foe in death-agony, protruded above the surface; mixed with these, and unburied, were the putrefying carcases of camels and mules--the whole filling the air with a horrible stench, and the soul with a fearful loathing, which ordinary language is powerless to describe, and the inexperienced imagination cannot conceive. oh! it is terrible to think that from the fall till now man has gone on continually producing and reproducing scenes like this--sometimes, no doubt, unavoidably; but often, too often, because of some trifling error, or insult, on the part of statesmen, or some paltry dispute about a boundary, or, not infrequently, on grounds so shadowy and complex that succeeding historians have found it almost impossible to convey the meaning thereof to the intellects of average men! amid these dreadful memorials of the recent fight the party bivouacked! next day the troops returned to suakim, and sutherland, after breakfast, and what he called a wash-up, went to see his friend sergeant hardy, with pen, ink, and paper. "weel, serjint, hoo are ye the day?" "pretty well, thank you--pretty well. ah! sutherland, i have been thinking what an important thing it is for men to come to jesus for salvation while in their health and strength; for now, instead of being anxious about my soul, as so many are when the end approaches, i am rejoicing in the thought of soon meeting god--my father! sutherland, my good fellow, it is foolish as well as wrong to think only of this life. of all men in the world we soldiers ought to know this." the sergeant spoke so earnestly, and his eyes withal looked so solemnly from their sunken sockets, that his friend could not help being impressed. "i believe ye're no' far wrang, serjint, an' i tak' shame to mysel' that i've been sic a harum-scarum sinner up to this time." sutherland said this with a look so honest that hardy was moved to put out his large wasted hand and grasp that of his friend. "comrade," he said, "god is waiting to be gracious. jesus is ever ready and willing to save." sutherland returned the pressure but made no reply; and hardy, praying for a blessing on the little that had been said, changed the subject by saying-- "you have brought paper and ink, i see." "ay, but, man, ye mauna be speakin' o' takin' yer depairture yet. this draftin' o' yer wull is only a precaution." "quite right, lad. i mean it only as a precaution," returned hardy, in a cheerful tone. "but you seem to have caught a cold--eh? what makes you cough and clear your throat so?" "a cauld! i wush it was only a cauld! man, it's the stink o' thae corps that i canna get oot o' my nose an' thrapple." hereupon sutherland, by way of entertaining his invalid friend, launched out into a graphic account of the scene he had so recently witnessed at mcneill's zereba. when that subject was exhausted, he arranged his writing materials and began with all the solemnity of a lawyer. "noo, serjeant, what div ye want me to pit doon?" "well, i must explain first that i have very little to leave, and no one to leave it to." "what! nae frien's ava?" "not one. i have neither wife nor child, brother nor sister. i have indeed one old cousin, but he is rich, and would not be benefited by my poor little possessions; besides, he's a cross-grained old fellow, and does not deserve anything, even though i had something worth leaving. however, i bear him no ill-will, poor man, only i don't want what i do leave to go to him, which it would if i were to die without a will; because, of course, he is my natural heir, and--" "haud ye there, man," said the scot abruptly but slowly. "if he's your nait'ral heir, ye're _his_ nait'ral heir tae, ye ken." "of course, i am aware of that," returned the sergeant with an amused look; "but the old man is eccentric, and has always boasted that he means to leave his wealth to some charity. indeed, i know that he has already made his will, leaving his money to build an hospital--for incurables of some sort, i believe." "ma certy! if i was his lawyer," said sutherland, with ineffable scorn, "i wad advise him to erec' an hospital in his lifetime for incurable eediots, an' to gang in himsel' as the first patient. but, come awa wi' yer wull, serjint." "get ready, then, my lawyer, and see that you put it down all ship-shape, as poor molloy would have said." "oh, ye needna fear," said the scot, "i'm no' sic an ass as to trust to my ain legal knowledge. but jist you say what ye want an' i'll pit it doon, and then write it into a form in the reg'lar way." after mentioning a few trifling legacies to various comrades, hardy said that he had managed to save a hundred pounds during his career, which he wished to divide between his two comrades, john miles and willie armstrong, for whom he expressed strong regard. sutherland, instead of noting this down, looked at his friend in sad surprise, thinking that weakness had caused his mind to wander. "ye forget, serjint," he said softly, "that miles an' airmstrang are baith deed." "no, lad; no one can say they are certainly dead." "aweel--we canna exactly say it, but when ye consider o' the born deevils that have gotten haud o' them, we are entitled to _think_ them deed ony way." "they are reported as `missing,' that is all, and that is enough for me. you write down what i tell you, lad. now, have you got it down?" "ay, fifty to each." "there may be some interest due on the account," said the sergeant thoughtfully; "besides, there may be a few things in my kit that i have forgotten--and it's not worth while dividing such trifles between them." "weel, weel, ye've only to mak yin o' them yer residooary legitee, an' that'll pit it a' richt." "true, my lawyer. let it be so," said hardy, with a short laugh at the thought of making so much ado about nothing. "make miles my residuary legatee. and now, be off, draw it out fair, an' leave me to rest, for i'm a trifle tired after all this legal work." the will thus carefully considered was duly made out, signed, and witnessed, after which sergeant hardy awaited with cheerful resignation whatever fate should be appointed to him. his strong frame and constitution, undamaged by youthful excess, fought a vigorous battle for life, and he began slowly to mend; but the climate of suakim was so bad for him that he was finally sent down to the hospital at alexandria, where, under much more favourable circumstances, he began to recover rapidly. one of the nurses there was very kind to him. finding that the sergeant was an earnest christian, she had many interesting talks with him on the subject nearest his heart. one day she said to him with unusual animation: "the doctor says you may go down to the soldiers' institute that has recently been set up here, and stay for some time to recruit. it is not intended for invalids, you know, but the ladies in charge are intimate friends of mine, and have agreed to let you have a room. the institute stands on a very pleasant part of the shore, exposed to the fresh sea-breezes; and there are lots of books and newspapers and games, as well as lectures, concerts, prayer-meetings, bible-readings, and--" "ay, just like miss robinson's institute at portsmouth," interrupted hardy. "i know the sort o' thing well." "the alexandrian soldiers' institute is _also_ miss robinson's," returned the nurse, with a pleased look; "so if you know the one at portsmouth, there is no need for my describing the other to you. the change will do you more good in a week than months at this place. and i'll come to see you frequently. there is a widow lady staying there just now to whom i will introduce you. she has been helping us to nurse here, for she has great regard for soldiers; but her health having broken-down somewhat, she has transferred her services to the institute for a time. she is the widow of a clergyman who came out here not long ago and died suddenly. you will find her a very sympathetic soul." chapter twenty. old friends in new aspects. on the evening of the third day after the conversation narrated in the last chapter, sergeant hardy sat in an easy-chair on the verandah of the soldiers' institute at alexandria, in the enjoyment of a refreshing breeze, which, after ruffling the blue waters of the mediterranean, came like a cool hand on a hot brow, to bless for a short time the land of egypt. like one of aladdin's palaces the institute had sprung up--not exactly in a night, but in a marvellously short space of time. there was more of interest about it, too, than about the aladdin buildings; for whereas the latter were evolved magically out of that mysterious and undefinable region termed nowhere, the miss robinson edifice came direct from smoky, romantic london, without the advantage of supernatural assistance. when miss robinson's soldier friends were leaving for the seat of war in egypt, some of them had said to her, "three thousand miles from home are three thousand good reasons why you should think of us!" the "soldiers' friend" took these words to heart--also to god. she did think of them, and she persuaded other friends to think of them, to such good purpose that she soon found herself in possession of funds sufficient to begin the work. as we have seen, her energetic servant and fellow-worker, mr thomas tufnell, was sent out to egypt to select a site for the building. the old iron and wood oratory at brompton was bought, and sent out at government expense--a fact which speaks volumes for the government opinion of the value of miss robinson's work among soldiers. in putting up the old oratory, tufnell had transformed it to an extent that might almost have made aladdin's slave of the lamp jealous. certainly, those who were wont to "orate" in the building when it stood in brompton would have failed to recognise the edifice as it arose in egypt on the boulevard ramleh, between the grand square of alexandria and the sea. the nave of the old oratory had been converted into a room, ninety-nine feet long, with couches and tables running down both sides, a billiard-table in the centre, writing materials in abundance, and pictures on the walls. at one end of the room stood a pianoforte, couches, and easy-chairs, and a door opened into a garden facing the sea. over the door were arranged several flags, and above these, in large letters, the appropriate words, "in the name of the lord will we set up our banners." at the other end was a temperance refreshment bar. on a verandah facing the sea men could repose on easy-chairs and smoke their pipes or cigars, while contemplating the peculiarities of an eastern climate. it was here that our friend sergeant hardy was enjoying that blessed state of convalescence which may be described as gazing straight forward and thinking of nothing! of course there were all the other appliances of a well-equipped institute--such as sleeping-cabins, manager's room, bible-class room, lavatory, and all the rest of it, while a handsome new stone building close beside it contained sitting-rooms, bed-rooms, club-room for officers, kitchens, and, by no means least, though last, a large lecture-hall. but to these and many other things we must not devote too much space, for old friends in new aspects claim our attention. only, in passing from such details, it may not be out of place to say that it has been remarked that the sight of miss robinson's buildings, steadily rising from the midst of acres of ruins, while men's minds were agitated by the bombardment and its results, produced a sense of security which had a most beneficial and quietening effect on the town! indeed, one officer of high rank went so far as to say that the institute scheme had given the inhabitants more confidence in the intentions of england than anything yet done or promised by government! in a rocking-chair beside the sergeant reclined a shadow in loose-- remarkably loose--fitting soldier's costume. "what a blessed place to sit in and rest after the toils and sufferings of war," said hardy, to the shadow, "and how thankful i am to god for bringing me here!" "it's a hivenly place intirely," responded the shadow, "an' 'tis mesilf as is thankful too--what's left o' me anyhow, an' that's not much. sure i've had some quare thoughts in me mind since i come here. wan o' them was--what is the smallest amount o' skin an' bone that's capable of howldin' a thankful spirit?" "i never studied algebra, flynn, so it's of no use puttin' the question to me," said hardy; "besides, i'm not well enough yet to tackle difficult questions, but i'm real glad to see you, my boy, though there _is_ so little of you to see." "that's it, sarjint; that's just where it lies," returned flynn, in a slow, weak voice. "i've bin occupied wi' that question too--namely, how thin may a man git widout losin' the power to howld up his clo'es?" "you needn't be uneasy on that score," said hardy, casting an amused glance at his companion, "for there's plenty o' flesh left yet to keep ye goin' till you get to old ireland. it rejoices my heart to see you beside me, thin though you are, for the report up country was that you had died on the way to suez." "bad luck to their reports! that's always the way of it. i do think the best way to take reports is to belaive the exact opposite o' what's towld ye, an' so ye'll come nearest the truth. it's thrue i had a close shave. wan day i felt a sort o' light-hiddedness--as if i was a kind o' livin' balloon--and was floatin' away, whin the doctor came an' looked at me. "`he's gone,' says he. "`that's a lie!' says i, with more truth than purliteness, maybe. "an' would ye belave it?--i began to mind from that hour! it was the doctor saved me widout intindin' to--good luck to him! anyhow he kep' me from slippin' my cable that time, but it was the good nursin' as brought me back--my blissin' on the dear ladies as give their hearts to this work all for love! by the way," continued flynn, coughing and looking very stern, for he was ashamed of a tear or two which _would_ rise and almost overflow in spite of his efforts to restrain them--but then, you see, he was very weak! "by the way," he said, "you'll niver guess who wan o' the nurses is. who d'ee think?--guess!" "i never _could_ guess right, flynn." "try." "well, little mrs armstrong." "nonsense, man! why, she's nursin' her old father in england, i s'pose." "miss robinson, then?" "h'm! you might as well say the prime minister. how d'ee s'pose the portsmuth institute could git along widout _her_? no, it's our friend mrs drew!" "what! the wife o' the reverend gentleman as came out with us in the troop-ship?" "that same--though she's no longer the wife of the riverend gintleman, for he's dead--good man," said flynn, in a sad voice. "i'm grieved to hear that, for he _was_ a good man. and the pretty daughter, what of her?" "that's more nor i can tell ye, boy. sometimes her mother brings her to the hospital to let her see how they manage, but i fancy she thinks her too young yet to go in for sitch work by hersilf. anyhow i've seen her only now an' then; but the poor widdy comes rig'lar--though i do belave she does it widout pay. the husband died of a flyer caught in the hospital a good while since. they say that lots o' young fellows are afther the daughter, for though the drews are as poor as church rats, she's got such a swate purty face, and such innocent ways wid her, that i'd try for her mesilf av it wasn't that i've swore niver to forsake me owld grandmother." chatting thus about times past and present, while they watched the soldiers and seamen who passed continuously in and out of the institute--intent on a game, or some non-intoxicant refreshment, or a lounge, a look at the papers, a confab with a comrade, or a bit of reading--the two invalids enjoyed their rest to the full, and frequently blessed the lady who provided such a retreat, as well as her warm-hearted assistants, who, for the love of christ and human souls, had devoted themselves to carry on the work in that far-off land. "i often think--" said hardy. but what he thought was never revealed; for at that moment two ladies in deep mourning approached, whom the sergeant recognised at a glance as mrs drew and her daughter marion. the faces of both were pale and sorrowful; but the beauty of the younger was rather enhanced than otherwise by this, and by contrast with her sombre garments. they both recognised the sergeant at once, and, hastening forward, so as to prevent his rising, greeted him with the kindly warmth of old friends. "it seems such a long time since we met," said the elder lady, "but we have never forgotten you or the comrades with whom we used to have such pleasant talks in the troop-ship." "sure am i, madam," said the sergeant, "that they have never forgotten _you_ and your kind--kind--" "yes, my husband was _very_ kind to you all," said the widow, observing the delicacy of feeling which stopped the soldier's utterance; "he was kind to every one. but we have heard some rumours that have made me and my daughter very sad. is it true that a great many men of your regiment were killed and wounded at the battle fought by general mcneill?" "quite true, madam," answered the sergeant, glancing at the daughter with some surprise; for marion was gazing at him with an intensely anxious look and parted lips. "but, thank god, many were spared!" "and--and--how are the two fine-looking young men that were so fond of each other--like twins almost--" "sure, didn't i tell ye, misthress, that they was both ki--" "hold your tongue, flynn," interrupted the widow, with a forced smile. "you are one of my most talkative patients! i want to hear the truth of this matter from a man who has come more recently from the scene of action than yourself. what do you think, mr hardy?" "you refer to john miles and william armstrong, no doubt, madam," said the sergeant, in a somewhat encouraging tone. "well, if flynn says they were killed he has no ground whatever for saying so. they are only reported missing. of course that is bad enough, but as long as a man is only missing there is plenty of room for hope. you see, they may have managed to hide, or been carried off as prisoners into the interior; and you may be sure the arabs would not be such fools as to kill two men like miles and armstrong; they'd rather make slaves of 'em, in which case there will be a chance of their escaping, or, if we should become friendly again wi' these fellows, they'd be set free." "i'm so glad to hear you say so, and i felt sure that my desponding patient here was taking too gloomy a view of the matter," said mrs drew, with a significant glance at marion, who seemed to breathe more freely and to lose some of her anxious expression after the sergeant's remarks. perhaps at this point a little conversation that took place between mrs drew and her daughter that same evening may not be out of place. "dear may," said the former, "did i not tell you that flynn took too gloomy a view of the case of these young soldiers, in whom your dear father was so much interested? but, darling, is it not foolish in you to think so much about miles?" "it may be foolish, mother, but i cannot help it," said marion, blushing deeply; for she was very modest as well as simple. "may, dear, i wonder that you can make such an admission!" said the mother remonstratively. "is it wrong to make such an admission to one's own mother, when it is true?" asked marion, still blushing, but looking straight in her mother's eyes; for she was very straightforward as well as modest and simple! "of course not, dear, but--but--in short, miles is only a--a--soldier, you know, and--" "_only_ a soldier!" interrupted marion, with a flash from her soft brown eyes; for she was an enthusiast as well as straightforward, modest, and simple! "i suppose you mean that he is only a private, but what then? may not the poorest private in the army rise, if he be but noble-minded and worthy and capable, to the rank of a general, or higher--if there is anything higher? possibly the commander-in-chief-ship may be open to him!" "true, my love, but in the meantime his social position is--" "is quite as good as our own," interrupted marion; for she was a desperate little radical as well as an enthusiast, straightforward, modest, and simple! "you know he let out something about his parents and position, and _of course_ he told the truth. besides, i repeat that i cannot _help_ loving him, and surely we are not responsible for our affections. we cannot love and hate to order. i might fall in love with--with--well, it's no good talking; but, anyhow, i could not help it. i could be silent if you like, but i could not help myself." mrs drew seemed a little puzzled how to deal with her impetuous daughter, and had begun to reply, when may interrupted her. flushing deeply, for she was very sensitive, and with a feeling that amounted almost to indignation, she continued-- "i wonder at you, mother--it's so unlike you; as if those unworthy considerations of difference of rank and station could influence, or ought to influence, one in such a question as this!" mrs drew paused for a moment. she knew that her daughter gave expression to the views that had marked the dealings of the husband and father, so lately lost to them, in every action of his life. marion's happiness, too, during the remainder of her days, might be involved in the result of the present conversation, and she was moved to say-- "my dear, has john miles ever spoken to you?" "oh! mother, how can you ask me? if he had done so, would i have delayed one minute in letting you know?" "forgive me, dearest. i did you wrong in admitting the thought even for a moment. but you spoke so earnestly--as if you might have some reason for thinking that he cared for you." "don't you know," answered marion, looking down, and a little confused, "that men can speak with their eyes as well as their lips? i not only feel sure that he cares for me, but i feel sure, from the sentiments he expressed to me on the voyage, that _nothing_ would induce him to talk to me of love while in his present position." "how does all this consist, my love," asked mrs drew, "with your knowledge of the fact that he left home in anger, and would not be persuaded, even by your dear father, to write home a penitent letter?" marion was silent. this had not occurred to her before. but love is not to be turned from its object by trifles. she was all that we have more than once described her to be; but she was not a meta-physician or a philosopher, capable of comprehending and explaining occult mysteries. enough for her if she loved miles and miles loved her, and then, even if he did not deserve her love, she would remain true--secretly but unalterably true--to him as the needle is to the pole! "has it not occurred to you, dear," said her mother, pursuing her advantage in a meditative tone, "that if miles has been so plain-spoken and eloquent with his blue eye, that your pretty brown ones may have said something to _him_?" "never!" exclaimed the girl, with an indignant flash. "oh! mother, can you believe me capable of--of--no, i never looked at him except with the air of a perfect stranger--at least of a--a--but why should i try to deny what could not possibly be true?" mrs drew felt that nothing was to be gained from pursuing the subject-- or one aspect of it--further. "at any rate," she said, "i am glad, for his own sake, poor young fellow, that sergeant hardy spoke so hopefully." "and for his comrades' sakes as well," said marion. "you know, mother, that his friend armstrong is also reported as missing, and stevenson the marine, as well as that dear big bluff sailor, jack molloy. by the way, do you feel well enough to go to the lecture to-night? it is to be a very interesting one, i am told, with magic-lantern illustrations, and i don't like to go alone." "i am going to-night, so you may make your mind easy," said her mother. "i would not miss this lecturer, because i am told that he is a remarkably good one, and the hall is likely to be quite full." in regard to this lecture and some other things connected with the alexandrian institute, our friend sergeant hardy learned a good deal from the lady at the head of it, not long after the time that mrs drew had the foregoing conversation with marion. it is scarcely needful to say that the lady-superintendent was a capable christian as well as an enthusiast in her work. "come to my room, sergeant hardy, and i'll tell you all about it," she said, leading the way to her apartment, where the sergeant placed himself upon a chair, bolt upright, as if he were going to have a tooth drawn, or were about to illustrate some new species of sitting-drill. chapter twenty one. shows how the lady of the institute discourses to the sergeant, how jack-tars go out on the spree, and how music conquers warriors. "it seems wonderful to me, madam," said sergeant hardy, looking round the lady's room with an admiring gaze, "how quickly you have got things into working order here. when i remember that last year this place was a heap of rubbish, it seems like magic." "ah! the work of god on earth seems magical the more we reflect on it," returned the lady. "the fact that our institute was conceived, planned, and carried into successful operation by an invalid lady, in spite of discouragement, and, at first, with inadequate means, is itself little short of miraculous, but what is even more surprising is the fact that the government, which began by throwing cold water on her portsmouth work, has ended by recognising it and by affording us every facility here in alexandria." "well, you see, madam, i suppose it's because they see that we soldiers and sailors likes it, an' it does a power o' good--don't you think?" "no doubt, but whatever may be the reason, sergeant, we are very thankful for the encouragement. i suppose you have heard what a grand occasion our opening day was?" "no, madam, i haven't. you see, away at suakim we was so constantly taken up with the attentions of osman digna that we had little time for anything but eatin' and sleepin' when we wasn't on sentry an' fightin', so that we often missed bits of news. was there a great turn-out o' men?" "indeed there was," returned the lady, with animation; "and not only of men, but of all the alexandrian notables. it was on the rd of february last ( ) that our institute was opened by major-general lennox, v.c., c.b., who was in command of the garrison. this was not the first time by any means that the soldiers had paid us a visit. a number of men, who, like yourself, sergeant hardy, sympathise with our work in its spiritual aspects, had been frequently coming to see how we were getting on, and many a pleasant hour's prayer and singing we had enjoyed with them, accompanied by our little harmonium, which had been sent to us by kind friends in england; and every sunday evening we had had a little service in the midst of the shavings and carpenters' benches. "but on this grand opening day the men came down in hundreds, and a great surprise some of them got--especially the sceptical among them. the entrance was decorated with palms. at the further end of the reading-room the trophy of union jacks and the royal standard, which you see there now, was put up by a band of jack-tars who had come to help us as well as to see the fun. over the trophy was our text, `in the name of the lord will we set up our banners,' for we liked to feel that we had taken possession of this little spot in egypt for god--and we believe that it will always be his. "everything was bright and hearty. there were about five hundred soldiers and sailors, and between two and three hundred officers and civilians of all nationalities. on the platform we had osman pasha--" "ha!" interrupted the sympathetic sergeant, "i only wish we could have had osman digna there too! it would do more to pacify the soudan than killing his men does!" "i daresay it would," responded the lady with a laugh, "but have patience, hardy; we shall have him there yet, and perhaps the mahdi too--or some future grand occasion. well, as i was saying, we had osman, the governor of alexandria, on our platform, and a lot of big-wigs that you know nothing about, but whose influence was of importance, and whose appearance went far to make the place look gay. of course we had music, beginning with `god save the queen,' and speeches--brilliant as well as heavy; sententious and comic--like all other similar gatherings, and the enthusiasm was unbounded. how could it be otherwise with sailors to cheer and soldiers to back them up? and you may be sure that in such a meeting the enthusiasm about the undertaking did not fail to extend to the `soldiers' friend' who had originated the whole. in short, it was a splendid success." "of course it was," said the sergeant, with emphasis; "first, because of god's blessing, an', second, because the institoot was greatly needed. why, madam, if it wasn't for this place the thousands of soldiers stationed here, not to mention the sailors, would have no place to go to spend their leave and leisure time but the drinkin' dens o' the town; an _you_ know well, though p'r'aps not so well as i do, what terrible places these are, where men are tempted, fleeced, debauched, and sometimes murdered." "quite true, hardy. did you hear of the case that occurred just two days ago? a sergeant of one of the regiments, i forget which, after paying his fare to a donkey-boy, turned quietly to walk away, when the scoundrel felled him with a stick and robbed him of one pound shillings. the case is before the law-court now, and no doubt the robber will receive a just reward. "well, as i was remarking, the opening day carried us to high tide, so to speak, and there has been no ebb from that day to this. one comical incident, however, occurred just at the beginning, which might have done us damage. the day after the opening all was prepared for the reception of our soldier and sailor friends. the tables were arranged with books and games, the writing-table with pens, ink, and blotting-paper, and the bar with all sorts of eatables, magnificent urns, coloured glass, etcetera. about one o'clock william, our barman, tasted the coffee. his usual expression of self-satisfaction gave place to one of horror. he tasted the coffee again. the look of horror deepened. he ran to the boiler, and the mystery was cleared up. the boiler had been filled with salt-water! our arab, ibraim, who carries up seawater daily to fill our baths, had filled the boiler with the same. luckily there was time to correct the mistake, and when our friends came trooping in at four o'clock they found the coffee quite to their taste. "you know very well," continued the superintendent, "our rules never to force religion on any of our customers, our object being to _attract_ by all the legitimate means in our power. we have our bible-classes, prayer-meetings, temperance soirees, and the like, distinct--as at portsmouth--from the other advantages of the institute; and are quite content if some, who come at first from mere curiosity or for the enjoyment of temporal good things, should afterwards continue to come from higher and spiritual motives. but if our military friends prefer to read our papers and books, and play our games, and use our bar, they are at perfect liberty to do so, without what i may style religious interference. it's all fair and above-board, you see. we fully recognise the freedom of will that god has bestowed on man. if you don't care for our spiritual fare you may let it alone. if you relish it--there it is, and you are welcome. yet we hold by our right to win men if we can. in point of fact, we have been very successful already in this way, for our motive power from beginning to end is love. "one of our most helpful soldier friends--a sergeant--has brought several men to the saviour, who are now our steady supporters. one of these men, whom our sergeant was the means of bringing in, was a professed unbeliever of good standing and ability. the first time he was prevailed on to come to a prayer-meeting, he sat bolt upright while we knelt, being a straightforward sort of man who refused to pretend when he could not really pray. he is now a happy follower of jesus. "our large rooms are constantly filled with soldiers, some chatting, some making up for past privations by having a good english meal, and others reading or playing games. just now happens to be our quietest hour, but it won't be long before we have a bustling scene." as if to verify the lady's words there came through the doorways at that moment a sound of shouting and cheering, which caused all the staff of the institute to start into active life. "there they come!" exclaimed the lady, with an intelligent smile, as she hurried from the room, leaving hardy to follow at a pace that was more consistent with his dignity--and, we may add, his physical weakness. the shouts proceeded from a party of sailors on leave from one of the ironclads lying in the harbour. these, being out for the day--on a spree as some of them styled it--had hired donkeys, and come in a body to the institute, where they knew that food of the best, dressed in british fashion, and familiar games, were to be had, along with british cheer and sympathy. when hardy reached the door he found the place swarming with blue-jackets, trooping up at intervals on various animals, but none on foot, save those who had fallen off their mounts and were trying to get on again. "they're all donkeyfied together," remarked a sarcastic old salt--not one of the party--who stood beside hardy, looking complacently on, and smoking his pipe. "they don't steer as well on land as on sea," replied hardy. "'cause they ain't used to such craft, you see--that's w'ere it is, sarjint," said the old salt, removing his pipe for a moment. "just look at 'em--some comin' along sidewise like crabs, others stern foremost. w'y, there's that grey craft wi' the broad little man holdin' on to its tail to prevent his slidin' over its head. i've watched that grey craft for some minutes, and its hind propellers have bin so often in the air that it do seem as if it was walkin' upon its front legs. hallo! i was sure he'd go down by the head at last." the donkey in question had indeed gone down by the head, and rolled over, pitching its rider on his broad shoulders, which, however, seemed none the worse for the fall. "ketch hold of his tail, bill," cried another man, "and hold his stern down--see if that won't cure his plungin'. he's like a dutchman in a cross sea." "keep clear o' this fellow's heels, jack, he's agoin' to fire another broadside." "if he does he'll unship you," cried jack, who was himself at the same moment unshipped, while the owner of the donkey, and of the other donkeys, shouted advice, if nothing worse, in arabic and broken english. in a few minutes the sailors "boarded" the institute, and drew the whole force of the establishment to the bar in order to supply the demand. "ah! thin, ye've got irish whisky, haven't ye?" demanded a facetious seaman. "yes, plenty, but we call it coffee here!" answered the equally facetious barman, whose satellites were distributing hot and cold drinks with a degree of speed that could only be the fruit of much practice. "you'll have to be jolly on mild swipes," said one; "no tostikatin' liquors allowed, dick." "h'm!" growled dick. "got any wittles here?" demanded another man, wiping his lips with his sleeve. "yes, plenty. sit down and order what you want." "for nothin'?" asked the tar. "for _next_ to nothing!" was the prompt reply. meanwhile, those whose appetites were not quite so urgent had distributed themselves about the place, and were already busy with draughts, billiards, etcetera, while those who were of more sedate and inquiring temperament were deep in the columns of the english papers and magazines. "i say, fred thorley, ain't it bang up?" remarked a sturdy little man, through a huge slice of cake, with which he had just filled his mouth. "fuss-rate!" responded fred, as he finished a cup of coffee at a draught and called for more. "didn't i tell you, sam, that you'd like it better than the native grog-shops?" "if they'd on'y got bitter beer!" sighed sam. "they've got better beer," said his friend; "try some ginger-pop." "no thankee. if i can't git it strong, let's at least have it hot. but, i say, what's come o' the lobsters? don't seem to be many about. i thought this here institoot was got up a-purpose for _them_. "so it was, lad, includin' us; but you don't suppose that because _you_ are out on the spree, everybody else is. they're on dooty just now. wait a bit an' you'll see plenty of 'em afore long." "are all that come here blue lights?" asked sam, with a somewhat doleful visage. "by no manner o' means," returned his friend, with a laugh; "tho' for the matter o' that they wouldn't be worse men if they was, but many of 'em are no better than they should be, an' d'ee know, sam, there are some of 'em actually as great blackguards a'most as yourself!" "there's some comfort in that anyhow," returned sam, with a pleasant smile, "for i hates to be pecooliar. by the way, fred, p'r'aps they may be able to give you some noos here, if you ax 'em, about your friend jack molloy. _he_ was a blue light, wasn't he?" "not w'en i know'd 'im, but he was a fuss-rate seaman an' a good friend, though he _was_ fond of his glass, like yourself, sam." it chanced that at this point sergeant hardy, in moving about the place, taking profound interest in all that he saw, came within earshot of the two friends, to whom he at once went up and introduced himself as a friend of jack molloy. "indeed," said he, "molloy and i fought pretty near to each other in that last affair under general mcneill, so i can give you the latest news of him." "can you, old man? come, sit down here, an' let's have it then," said thorley. "jack was an old messmate o' mine. what'll you take to drink, mate?" "nothing, thankee. i'm allowanced by the doctor even in the matter o' tea and coffee," said the sergeant. "as to bein' an' old man--well, i ain't much older than yourself, i daresay, though wounds and sickness and physic are apt to age a man in looks." sitting down beside the sailors, hardy told of the great fight at mcneill's zereba, and how molloy and others of his friends had gone to rescue a comrade and been cut off. he relieved fred's mind, however, by taking the most hopeful view of the matter, as he had previously relieved the feelings of marion. and then the three fell to chatting on things in general and the war in particular. "now don't this feel homelike?" said sam, looking round the room with great satisfaction. "if it wasn't for the heat i'd a'most think we was in a temperance coffee-house in old england." "or owld ireland," chimed in a sailor at the neighbouring table. "to say naething o' auld scotland," added a rugged man in red hair, who sat beside him. "well, messmate," assented fred, "it _do_ feel homelike, an' no mistake. why, what ever is _that_?" the sailor paused, and held up a finger as if to impose silence while he listened, but there was no need to enforce silence, for at that moment the sweet strains of a harmonium were heard at the other end of the long room, and quietude profound descended on the company as a rich baritone voice sang, with wonderful pathos, the familiar notes and words of "home, sweet home!" before that song was finished many a warrior there had to fight desperately with his own spirit to conceal the fact that his eyes were full of tears. indeed, not a few of them refused to fight at all, but, ingloriously lowering their colours, allowed the tell-tale drops to course over their bronzed faces, as they thought of sweethearts and wives and friends and home circles and "the light of other days." chapter twenty two. led into captivity. we turn once more to the nubian desert, where, it will be remembered, we left several of our friends, cut off from mcneill's zereba at a critical moment when they were all but overwhelmed by a host of foes. the grand-looking arab who had so opportunely appeared on the scene and arrested the spears which were about to finish the career of jack molloy was no other than the man who had been saved by miles from the bullet of his comrade rattling bill. a kind act had in this case received its appropriate reward, for a brief though slight glance, and a gracious inclination of the arab's head, convinced our hero that the whole party owed their lives to this man's gratitude. they were not however exempt from indignity, for at the moment when jack molloy fell they were overwhelmed by numbers, their arms were wrenched from their grasp, and their hands were bound behind their backs. thus they were led, the reverse of gently, into the thick bush by a strong party of natives, while the others, headed by the black-bearded chief, continued their attack on the zereba. it soon became evident that the men who had charge of the prisoners did not share, or sympathise with, the feelings of the chief who had spared their lives, for they not only forced them to hurry forward as fast as they could go, but gave them occasional pricks with their spear-points when any of them chanced to trip or stumble. one of the warriors in particular--a fiery man--sometimes struck them with the shaft of his spear and otherwise maltreated them. it may be easily understood that men with unbroken spirits and high courage did not submit to this treatment with a good grace! miles was the first to be tested in this way. on reaching a piece of broken ground his foot caught in something and he stumbled forward. his hands being bound behind him he could not protect his head, and the result was that he plunged into a prickly shrub, out of which he arose with flushed and bleeding countenance. this was bad enough, but when the fiery arab brought a lance down heavily on his shoulders his temper gave way, and he rushed at the man in a towering rage, striving at the same time, with intense violence, to burst his bonds. of course he failed, and was rewarded by a blow on the head, which for a moment or two stunned him. seeing this, armstrong's power of restraint gave way, and he sprang to the rescue of his friend, but only to meet the same fate at the hands of the fiery arab. stunned and bleeding, though not subdued, they were compelled to move on again at the head of the party--spurred on now and then by a touch from the point of the fiery man's lance. indeed it seemed as if this man's passionate nature would induce him ere long to risk his chief's wrath by disobeying orders and stabbing the prisoners! stevenson, the marine, was the next to suffer, for his foot slipped on a stone, and he fell with such violence as to be unable to rise for a few minutes. impatient of the delay, the fiery man struck him so savagely with the spear-shaft that even his own comrades remonstrated. "if i could only burst this cord!" growled simkin between his teeth, "i'd--" he stopped, for he felt that it was unmanly, as well as idle, to boast in the circumstances. "we must have patience, comrade," said stevenson, as he rose pale and bloodstained from the ground. "our great captain sometimes gives us the order to submit and suffer and--" a prick in the fleshy part of his thigh caused him to stop abruptly. at this point the endurance of jack molloy failed him, and he also "went in" for violent action! but jack was a genius as well as a sailor, and profited by the failures of his comrades. instead of making futile efforts to break his bonds like them, he lowered his hairy head, and, with a howl and a tremendous rush, like a fish-torpedo, launched himself, or, as it were, took "a header," into the fiery man! "no fellow," as jack himself afterwards remarked, "could receive fifteen stone ten into his bread-basket and go on smiling!" on the contrary, he went down like a nine-pin, and remained where he fell, for his comrades--who evidently did not love him--merely laughed and went on their way, leaving him to revive at his leisure. the prisoners advanced somewhat more cheerfully after this event, for, besides being freed from pricks of the spear-point, there was that feeling of elation which usually arises in every well-balanced mind from the sight of demerit meeting with its appropriate reward. the region over which they were thus led, or driven, was rather more varied than the level country behind them, and towards evening it changed still further, becoming more decidedly hill-country. at night the party found themselves in the neighbourhood of one of the all-important wells of the land, beside which they encamped under a small tree. here the prisoners were allowed to sit down on the ground, with one man to guard them, while the others kindled a fire and otherwise arranged the encampment. supper--consisting of a small quantity of boiled corn and dried flesh-- was given to the prisoners, whose hands were set free, though their elbows were loosely lashed together, and their feet tied to prevent their escape. no such idea, however, entered into the heads of any of them, for they were by that time in the heart of an unknown range of hills, in a country which swarmed with foes, besides which, they would not have known in what direction to fly had they been free to do so; they possessed neither arms, ammunition, nor provisions, and were at the time greatly exhausted by their forced march. perhaps jack molloy was the only man of the unfortunate party who at that moment retained either the wish or the power to make a dash for freedom. but then jack was an eccentric and exceptional man in every respect. nothing could quell his spirit, and it was all but impossible to subdue his body. he was what we may term a composite character. his frame was a mixture of gutta-percha, leather, and brass. his brain was a compound of vivid fancy and slow perception. his heart was a union of highly inflammable oil and deeply impressible butter, with something remarkably tough in the centre of it. had he been a red indian he would have been a chief. if born a nigger he would have been a king. in the tenth century he might have been a sea-king or something similar. born as he was in the nineteenth century, he was only a jack-tar and a hero! it is safe to conclude that if molloy had been set free that evening with a cutlass in his hand he would--after supper of course--have attacked single-handed the united band of forty arabs, killed at least ten of them, and left the remaining thirty to mourn over their mangled bodies and the loss of numerous thumbs and noses, to say nothing of other wounds and bruises. luckily for his comrades he was _not_ free that night. "boys," said he, after finishing his scanty meal, and resting on an elbow as he looked contemplatively up at the stars which were beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky, "it do seem to me, now that i've had time to think over it quietly, that our only chance o' gittin' out o' this here scrape is to keep quiet, an' pretend that we're uncommon fond of our _dear_ arab friends, till we throws 'em off their guard, an' then, some fine night, give 'em the slip an' make sail across the desert for suakim." "no doubt you're right," answered miles, with a sigh, for, being tired and sleepy just then, he was not nearly as sanguine as the seaman, "but i have not much hope of gaining their confidence--especially after your acting the thunderbolt so effectively on one of them." "why, man alive! they won't mind that. it was all in the way of fair fight," said molloy; "an' the rascal was no favourite, i could see that." "it's a wonder to me you could see anything at all after such a ram!" remarked moses pyne, with a yawn, as he lay back and rested his head on a tuft of grass. "the shock seemed to me fit to sink an iron-clad." "but why _pretend_ to be fond of the arabs?" asked stevenson. "don't you think it would be sufficient that we should obey orders quietly without any humbug or pretence at all about it, till a chance to escape shall come in our way?" "don't you think, stevenson," said miles, "that there's a certain amount of humbug and pretence even in quiet obedience to orders, when such obedience is not the result of submission, but of a desire to throw people off their guard?" "but my obedience _is_ the result of submission," returned the marine stoutly. "i do really submit--first, because it is god's will, for i cannot help it; second, because it is the only course that will enable me to escape bad treatment; third, because i wish to gain the good-will of the men who have me in their power whether i escape or not; and, fourth--" "hallo! old man, how many heads are you goin' to give us in that there sermon?" asked moses. "this is the last head, moses, and you needn't be anxious, for i ain't going to enlarge on any of 'em. my fourth reason is, that by doing as common-sense bids me, our foes will be brought thereby to that state of mind which will be favourable to everything--our escape included--and i can't help that, you know. it ain't my fault if they become trustful, is it?" "no, nor it ain't no part o' your dooty to spoil their trustfulness by failin' to take advantage of it," said molloy, with a grin; "but it do seem to me, stevenson, as if there wor a strong smack o' the jesuit, in what you say." "i hope not," replied the marine. "anyhow, no one would expect me, surely, to go an' say straight out to these fellows, `i'm goin' to obey orders an' be as meek as a lamb, in order to throw you off your guard an' bolt when i get the chance!'" "cer'nly not. 'cause why? firstly, you couldn't say it at all till you'd learned arabic," returned molloy; "secondly--if i may be allowed for to follow suit an' sermonise--'cause you shouldn't say it if you could; an', thirdly, 'cause you'd be a most awful jack-ass to say it if you did. now, it's my advice, boys, that we go to sleep, for we won't have an easy day of it to-morrow, if i may judge from to-day." having delivered this piece of advice with much decision, the seaman extended himself at full length on the ground, and went to sleep with a pleased smile on his face, as if the desert sand had been his familiar couch from infancy. some of the other members of the unfortunate party were not, however, quite so ready for sleep. miles and his friend armstrong sat long talking over their fate--which they mutually agreed was a very sad one; but at last, overcome by exhaustion, if not anxiety, they sank into much-needed repose, and the only sound that broke the stillness of the night was the tread of the arab sentinel as he paced slowly to and fro. the country, as they advanced, became more and more rugged, until they found themselves at last in the midst of a hill region, in the valleys of which there grew a considerable amount of herbage and underwood. the journey here became very severe to the captives, for, although they did not suffer from thirst so much as on the plains, the difficulty of ascending steep and rugged paths with their hands bound was very great. it is true the position of the hands was changed, for after the second day they had been bound in front of them, but this did not render their toil easy, though it was thereby made a little less laborious. by this time the captives had learned from experience that if they wished to avoid the spear-points they must walk in advance of their captors at a very smart pace. fortunately, being all strong and healthy men, they were well able to do so. rattling bill, perhaps, suffered most, although, after molloy, he was physically one of the strongest of the party. observing that he lagged behind a little on one occasion while they were traversing a somewhat level valley, stevenson offered him his arm. "don't be ashamed to take it, old boy," said the marine kindly, as his comrade hesitated. "you know, a fellow sometimes feels out o' sorts, and not up to much, however stout he may be when well, so just you lay hold, for somehow i happen to feel as strong as an elephant to-day." "but i _ain't_ ill," returned simkin, still declining, "and i don't see why i shouldn't be as able as you are to carry my own weight." "of course you are better able to do it than i am, in a general way," returned his friend, "but i said that sometimes, you know, a fellow gives in, he don't well know why or how, an' then, of course, his comrades that are still strong are bound to help him. here, hook on and pocket your pride. you'll have to do the same thing for me to-morrow, may-hap, when _i_ give in. and if it does come to that i'll lean heavy, i promise you." "you're a good fellow, stevenson, even though you _are_ a blue light," said simkin, taking the proffered arm. "perhaps it's _because_ i am a blue light," returned the marine, with a laugh. "at all events, it is certain that whatever good there may be about me at all is the result of that light which is as free to you as to me." for some minutes the couple walked along in silence. at last rattling bill spoke. "i wonder," he said, "why it is that a young and healthy fellow like me should break down sooner than you, stevenson, for i'm both bigger and stronger--and yet, look at us new. ain't it strange! i wonder why it is." "it is strange, indeed," returned the marine quietly. "p'r'aps the climate suits me better than you." "i know what you're thinkin'," said simkin, almost testily. "why don't you say that _drink_ is the cause of it--straight out, like a man?" "because i knew you were saying that to yourself, lad, so there was no need for me to say it," returned his friend, with a side-glance and a twinkle of the eyes. "well, whoever says it, it's a fact," continued simkin, almost sternly, "an' i make no bones of admitting it. i have bin soakin' away, right and left, since i came to this country, in spite o' warnin's from you and other men like you, and now i feel as if all my boasted strength was goin' out at my heels." stevenson was silent. "why don't you say `i told you so?'" asked simkin, sharply. "because i _never_ say that! it only riles people; besides," continued the marine, earnestly, "i was asking god at the moment to enable me to answer you wisely. you see, i think it only fair to reveal some of my private thoughts to _you_, since you are making a father-confessor of _me_. but as you admit that drink has done you damage, my dear fellow, there is no need for me to say anything more on that subject. what you want now is encouragement as to the future and advice as to the present. shall i give you both just now, or shall i wait?" "`commence firing!'" replied simkin, with a half-jesting smile. "well, then, as to encouragement," said stevenson. "a point of vital importance with men who have gone in for drink as much as you have, is total-abstinence; and i regard it as an evidence of god's love to you that he has brought you here--" "god's love that brought me _here_!" exclaimed the soldier in surprise. "well, that _is_ a view o' the case that don't seem quite plain." "plain enough if you open your eyes wide enough. see here: if you was in camp now, with your present notions, and was to determine to give up drink, you'd have to face and fight two most tremendous devils. one devil is called craving, the other is called temptation, and all the arabs in the soudan rolled into one are not so terrible or so strong as these two when a man is left to fight them by himself. now, is it not a sign of our father's love that he has, by bringing you here, removed the devil temptation entirely out of your way, for you can't get strong drink here for love or money. so, you see, you have only got craving to fight, and that's encouraging, ain't it?" "d'ye know, i believe you are not far wrong," said simkin, gravely; "and it _is_ encouraging to know that temptation's out o' the way, for i feel that the other devil has got me by the throat even now, and that it's him as has weakened me so much." "that's it, friend. you've got the truth by the tail now, so hold on; but, at the same time, don't be too hard on craving. it's not _his_ fault that he's here. you have poured liquor down your throat to him daily, and cultivated his acquaintance, and helped him to increase his strength regularly, for many months--it may be for years. i don't want to be hard on you, lad, but it's of no use shiftin' the burden on to the wrong shoulders. it is not craving but _you_ who are the sinner. now, as to advice: do you really want it?" "well," replied simkin, with a "humph!" "it will be time enough for you to shut up when i sound the `cease firing!'" "my advice, then, is that you go down on your knees, plead _guilty_ straight off, and ask for grace to help you in your time of need." "what! go down on my knees here before all them arabs? if i did, they'd not only laugh at me, but they'd soon rouse me up with their spears." "i'm not so sure about that, simkin. arabs are accustomed to go on their own knees a good deal in public. it is chiefly christians who, strange to say, are ashamed to be caught in that position at odd times. but i speak not of ceremonies, but of realities. a man may go on his knees, without bending a joint, any time and everywhere. now, listen: there is this difference between the courts of men and the court of heaven, that in the former, when a man pleads guilty, his sentence is only modified and softened, but in the latter, the man who pleads guilty receives a free pardon and ultimate deliverance from _all_ sin for the sake of jesus christ. will you accept this deliverance, my friend?" what the soldier replied in his heart we cannot tell, for his voice was silent. before the conversation could be resumed a halt was called, to partake of the midday meal and rest. that evening the party came upon a strange and animated scene. it was one of the mountain camps of osman digna, where men were assembling from all quarters, to swell the hordes with which their chief hoped to drive the hated europeans into the red sea. camels and other beasts of burden were bringing in supplies for the vast army, and to this spot had been brought the poor fellows who had been wounded in recent battles. here the captives were thrust into a small dark hut and left to their meditations, while a couple of arab sentries guarded the door. chapter twenty three. shows that suffering tends to draw out sympathy. the word _captivity_, even when it refers to civilised lands and peoples, conveys, we suspect, but a feeble and incorrect idea to the minds of those who have never been in a state of personal bondage. still less do we fully appreciate its dread significance when it refers to foreign lands and barbarous people. it was not so much the indignities to which the captive britons were subjected that told upon them ultimately, as the hard, grinding, restless toil, and the insufficient food and rest--sometimes accompanied with absolute corporeal pain. "a merciful man is merciful to his beast." there is not much of mercy to his beast in an arab. we have seen an arab, in algiers, who made use of a sore on his donkey's back as a sort of convenient spur! it is exhausting to belabour a thick-skinned and obstinate animal with a stick. it is much easier, and much more effective, to tickle up a sore, kept open for the purpose, with a little bit of stick, while comfortably seated on the creature's back. the fellow we refer to did that. we do not say or think that all arabs are cruel; very far from it, but we hold that, as a race, they are so. their great prophet taught them cruelty by example and precept, and the records of history, as well as of the african slave-trade, bear witness to the fact that their "tender mercies" are not and never have been conspicuous! at first, as we have shown, indignities told pretty severely on the unfortunate englishmen. but, as time went on, and they were taken further and further into the interior, and heavy burdens were daily bound on their shoulders, and the lash was frequently applied to urge them on, the keen sense of insult which had at first stirred them into wild anger became blunted, and at last they reached that condition of partial apathy which renders men almost indifferent to everything save rest and food. even the submissive stevenson was growing callous. in short, that process had begun which usually ends in making men either brutes or martyrs. as before, we must remark that jack molloy was to some extent an exception. it did seem as if nothing but death itself could subdue that remarkable man. his huge frame was so powerful that he seemed to be capable of sustaining any weight his tyrants chose to put upon him. and the influence of hope was so strong within him that it raised him almost entirely above the region of despondency. this was fortunate for his comrades in misfortune, for it served to keep up their less vigorous spirits. there was one thing about the seaman, however, which they could not quite reconcile with his known character. this was a tendency to groan heavily when he was being loaded. to be sure, there was not much reason for wonder, seeing that the arabs forced the herculean man to carry nearly double the weight borne by any of his companions, but then, as miles once confidentially remarked to armstrong, "i thought that jack molloy would rather have died than have groaned on account of the weight of his burden; but, after all, it _is_ a tremendously heavy one--poor fellow!" one day the arabs seemed to be filled with an unusual desire to torment their victims. a man had passed the band that day on a fast dromedary, and the prisoners conjectured that he might have brought news of some defeat of their friends, which would account for their increased cruelty. they were particularly hard on molloy that day, as if they regarded him as typical of british strength, and, therefore, an appropriate object of revenge. after the midday rest, they not only put on him his ordinary burden, but added to the enormous weight considerably, so that the poor fellow staggered under it, and finally fell down beneath it, with a very dismal groan indeed! of course the lash was at once applied, and under its influence the sailor rose with great difficulty, and staggered forward a few paces, but only to fall again. this time, however, he did not wait for the lash, but made very determined efforts of his own accord to rise and advance, without showing the smallest sign of resentment. even his captors seemed touched, for one of them removed a small portion of his burden, so that, thereafter, the poor fellow proceeded with less difficulty, though still with a little staggering and an occasional groan. that night they reached a village near the banks of a broad river, where they put up for the night. after their usual not too heavy supper was over, the prisoners were thrust into a sort of hut or cattle-shed, and left to make themselves as comfortable as they could on the bare floor. "i don't feel quite so much inclined for sleep to-night," said miles to molloy. "no more do i," remarked the sailor, stretching himself like a wearied goliath on the earthen floor, and placing his arms under his head for a pillow. "i feel pretty well used up too," said simkin, throwing himself down with a sigh that was more eloquent than his tongue. he was indeed anything but rattling bill by that time. moses pyne being, like his great namesake, a meek man, sympathised with the others, but said nothing about himself, though his looks betrayed him. armstrong and stevenson were silent. they seemed too much exhausted to indulge in speech. "poor fellow!" said moses to molloy, "i don't wonder you are tired, for you not only carried twice as much as any of us, but you took part of _my_ load. indeed he did, comrades," added moses, turning to his friends with an apologetic air. "i didn't want him to do it, but he jerked part o' my load suddenly out o' my hand an' wouldn't give it up again; an', you know, i didn't dare to make a row, for that would have brought the lash down on both of us. but i didn't want him to carry so much, an' him so tired." "tired!" exclaimed the sailor, with a loud laugh. "why, i warn't tired a bit. an', you know, you'd have dropped down, moses, if i hadn't helped ye at that time." "well, i confess i _was_ ready to drop," returned moses, with a humbled look; "but i would much rather have dropped than have added to your burden. how can you say you wasn't tired when you had fallen down only five minutes before, an' groaned heavily when you rose, and your legs trembled so? i could _see_ it!" to this the seaman's only reply was the expansion of his huge but handsome mouth, the display of magnificent teeth, the disappearance of both eyes, and a prolonged quiet chuckle. "why, what's the matter with you, jack?" asked stevenson. "nothin's the matter wi' me, old man--'cept--" here he indulged in another chuckle. "goin' mad, with over-fatigue," said simkin, looking suspiciously at him. "ay, that's it, messmate, clean mad wi' over-fatigue." he wiped his eyes with the hairy back of his hand, for the chuckling, being hearty, had produced a few tears. "no, but really, jack, what is it you're laughing at?" asked armstrong. "if there _is_ a joke you might as well let us have the benefit of laughing along wi' you, for we stand much in need of something to cheer us here." "well, billy boy, i may as well make a clean breast of it," said molloy, raising himself on one elbow and becoming grave. "i do confess to feelin' raither ashamed o' myself, but you mustn't be hard on me, lads, for circumstances alters cases, you know, as solomon said--leastwise if it warn't him it was job or somebody else. the fact is, i've bin shammin', mates!" "shamming!" "ay, shammin' _weak_. purtendin' that i was shaky on the legs, an' so not quite up to the cargo they were puttin' aboard o' me." "if what you've been doing means shamming _weak_, i'd like to see you coming out _strong_," observed miles, with a short laugh. "well, p'r'aps you'll see that too some day," returned the sailor, with an amiable look. "but do you really mean that all that groaning--which i confess to have been surprised at--was mere pretence?" "all sham. downright sneakin'!" said molloy. "the short an' the long of it is, that i see'd from the first the on'y way to humbug them yellow-faced baboons was to circumwent 'em. so i set to work at the wery beginnin'." "ah, by takin' a header," said simkin, "into one o' their bread-baskets!" "no, no!" returned the seaman, "that, i confess, was a mistake. but you'll admit, i've made no more mistakes o' the same sort since then. you see, i perceived that, as my strength is considerable above the average, the baboons would be likely to overload me, so, arter profound excogitation wi' myself, i made up my mind what to do, an' when they had clapped on a little more than the rest o' you carried i began to groan, then i began to shake a bit in my timbers, an' look as if i was agoin' to founder. it didn't check 'em much, for they're awful cruel, so i went fairly down by the head. i had a pretty fair guess that this would bring the lash about my shoulders, an' i was right, but i got up wery slowly an' broken-down-like, so that the baboons was fairly humbugged, and stopped loadin' of me long afore i'd taken in a full cargo--so, you see, boys, i've bin sailin' raither light than otherwise." "but do you mean to tell me that the load you've bin carryin' is not too heavy for you?" asked moses. "that's just what i does mean to tell you, lad. i could carry a good deal more, an' dance with it. you see, they ain't used to men o' my size, so i was able to humbug 'em into a miscalkilation. i on'y wish i could have helped you all to do the same, but they're too 'cute, as the yankees say. anyway, moses, you don't need to trouble your head when i gives you a helpin' hand again." "ah, that expression, `a helping hand,' sounds familiar in my ears," said stevenson, in a sad tone. "yes, what do it recall, lad?" asked molloy, extending himself again on his broad back. "it recalls places and friends in portsmouth, jack, that we may never again set eyes on. you remember the institoot? well, they've got a new branch o' the work there for the surrounding civilian poor, called the _helping hand_. you see, miss robinson understands us soldiers out and out. she knew that those among us who gave up drink and sin, and put on the blue-ribbon, were not goin' to keep all the benefit to ourselves. she knew that we understood the meaning of the word `enlist' that we'd think very little o' the poor-spirited fellow who'd take the queen's shillin' and put on her uniform, and then shirk fightin' her battles and honouring her flag. so when some of us put on the lord's uniform-- which, like that of the austrians, is white--and unfurled his flag, she knew we'd soon be wantin' to fight his battles against sin--especially against drink; so instead of lookin' after our welfare alone, she encouraged us to hold out a _helpin' hand_ to the poorest and most miserable people in portsmouth, an' she found us ready to answer to the call." "ah, they was grand times, these," continued the marine, with kindly enthusiasm, as he observed that his comrades in sorrow were becoming interested, and forgetting for the moment their own sorrows and sufferings. "the blue-ribbon move was strong in portsmouth at the time, and many of the soldiers and sailors joined it. some time after we had held out a helping hand to the poor civilians, we took it into our heads to invite some of 'em to a grand tea-fight in the big hall, so we asked a lot o' the poorest who had faithfully kept the pledge through their first teetotal christmas; and it _was_ a scrimmage, i can tell you. we got together more than forty of 'em, men and women, and there were about three hundred soldiers and sailors, and their wives to wait on 'em an' keep 'em company!" "capital!" exclaimed miles, who had a sympathetic spirit--especially for the poor. "good--good!" said molloy, nodding his head. "that was the right thing to do, an' i suppose they enjoyed theirselves?" "enjoyed themselves!" exclaimed the marine, with a laugh. "i should just think they did. trust miss robinson for knowin' how to make poor folk enjoy themselves--and, for the matter of that, rich folk too! how they did stuff, to be sure! many of 'em, poor things, hadn't got such a blow-out in all their lives before. you see, they was the very poorest of the poor. you may believe what i say, for i went round myself with one o' the institoot ladies to invite 'em, and i do declare to you that i never saw even pigs or dogs in such a state of destitootion--nothin' whatever to lie on but the bare boards." "you don't say so?" murmured moses, with deep commiseration, and seemingly oblivious of the fact that he was himself pretty much in similar destitution at that moment. "indeed i do. look here," continued the marine, becoming more earnest as he went on; "thousands of people don't know--can't understand--what misery and want and suffering is going on around 'em. city missionaries and the like tell 'em about it, and write about it, but telling and writin' _don't_ make people _know_ some things. they must _see_, ay, sometimes they must _feel_, before they can rightly understand. "one of the rooms we visited," continued stevenson, in pathetic tones, "belonged to a poor old couple who had been great drinkers, but had been induced to put on the blue-ribbon. it was a pigeon-hole of a room, narrow, up a dark stair. they had no means of support. the room was empty. everything had been pawned. the last thing given up was the woman's shawl to pay the rent, and they were starving." "why didn't they go to the work'us?" asked simkin. "'cause the workhouse separates man and wife, in defiance of the divine law--`whom god hath joined together let no man put asunder.' they was fond of each other, was that old man and woman, and had lived long together, an' didn't want to part till death. so they had managed to stick to the old home, ay, and they had stuck to their colours, for the bit o' blue was still pinned to the tattered coat o' the man and the thin gown o' the woman, (neither coat nor gown would fetch anything at the pawn-shop!) and there was no smell o' drink in the room. well, that old couple went to the tea-fight. it was a bitter cold night, but they came all the same, with nothing to cover the woman's thin old arms. "the moment they appeared, away went one o' miss robinson's workers to the room where they keep chests full of clothes sent by charitable folk to the institoot, an' you should have seen that old woman's wrinkled face when the worker returned wi' the thickest worsted shawl she could lay hold of, an' put it on her shoulders as tenderly as if the old woman had been her own mother! at the same time they gave a big-coat to the old man." "but, i say," interrupted simkin, "that christmas feed an' shawl an' coat wouldn't keep the couple for a twel'month, if they was sent home to starve as before, would it?" "of course not," returned the marine, "but they wasn't sent off to starve; they was looked after. ay, an' the people o' the whole neighbourhood are now looked after, for miss robinson has bought up a grog-shop in nobbs lane--one o' the worst places in portsmouth--an' converted it into a temperance coffee-house, wi' lots of beds to send people to when the institoot overflows, an' a soup-kitchen for the destitoot poor, an' a wash'us for them and the soldiers' wives, an', in short, it has changed the whole place; but if i go on like this i'll send moses to sleep, for i've heard 'im smotherin' his yawns more than once a'ready!" "it's not for want of interest in what you're sayin' though, old man," returned moses, with a tremendous unsmothered yawn, which of course set all his comrades off, and confirmed them in the belief that it was time to seek repose. scarcely a single comment was made on the narrative, as each laid his weary head on his arm or on a folded garment, and stretched himself out on the hard ground, in nearly as destitute a condition as the poor folk, about whom they had been hearing; for while their bed was as hard as theirs, and the covering as scant, the meal they had recently consumed was by no means what hungry men would call satisfying. there is reason to believe, however, that their consideration of the sad lot of "the poor" at home did not render less profound or sweet that night's repose in the great african wilderness. chapter twenty four. adventures among the soudanese, and strange meeting with the mahdi. day after day, for many days, our captives were thus driven over the burning desert, suffering intensely from heat and thirst and hunger, as well as from fatigue, and treated with more or less cruelty according to the varying moods of their guards. at last one afternoon they arrived at a city of considerable size, through the streets of which they were driven with unusual harshness by the arab soldiers, who seemed to take pleasure in thus publicly heaping contempt on christian captives in the sight of the mohammedan population. their case seemed truly desperate to miles, as he and his comrades passed through the narrow streets, for no pitying eye, but many a frown, was cast on them by the crowds who stopped to gaze and scoff. what city they had reached they had no means of finding out, being ignorant of arabic. indeed, even though they had been able to converse with their guards, it is probable that these would have refused to hold communication with them. turning out of what appeared to be a sort of market-place, they were driven, rather than conducted, to a whitewashed building, into which they entered through a low strong door, studded with large iron-headed nails. as they entered a dark passage, the door was slammed and locked behind them. at first, owing to their sudden entrance out of intensely bright day, they seemed to be in profound darkness, but when they became accustomed to the dim light, they found that they were in the presence of several powerful men, who carried long eastern-like pistols in their girdles, and curved naked swords in their hands. these stood like statues against the wall of the small room, silently awaiting the orders of one whose dress betokened him of superior rank, and who was engaged in writing with a reed in persian characters. a tall, very black-skinned negro stood beside this officer. after a few minutes the latter laid down the reed, rose up, and confronted the prisoners, at the same time addressing some remark to his attendant. "who is you, an' where you come fro?" asked the negro, addressing himself to miles, whom he seemed intuitively to recognise as the chief of his party. "we are british soldiers!" said miles, drawing himself up with an air of dignity that would have done credit to the emperor of china. you see, at that moment he felt himself to be the spokesman for, and, with his comrades, the representative of, the entire british army, and was put upon his mettle accordingly. "we come from suakim--" "ay, black-face!" broke in jack molloy at that moment, "and you may tell him that if he has the pluck to go to suakim, he'll see plenty more british soldiers--an' british seamen too--who'll give him an' his friends a hot and hearty welcome wi' bullet, bayonet, and cutlash whenever he feels inclined." "are you officer?" asked the negro of miles, and not paying the smallest attention to molloy's warlike invitation. "no, i am not." turning to the armed men, the officer gave them an order which caused them to advance and stand close to the englishmen--two beside each prisoner--with drawn swords. an extra man took up his position behind molloy, evidently having regard to his superior size! then two men, who looked like jailers, advanced to stevenson, cut the cords that bound his arms, and proceeded to put iron fetters on his wrists. "comrades," said molloy, in a low voice, when he perceived that his turn was coming, "shall we make a burst for it--kill them all, get out into street, cut and slash through the town, and make a grand run for it--or die like men?" "die like fools!" growled simkin, as he suffered his hands to be manacled. "no, no, jack," said armstrong; "don't be rash. let's bide our time. there's no sayin' what'll turn up." "well, well," sighed molloy, resigning himself to his fate, "there's only one thing now that's sartin sure to turn up, an' that is the sod that'll cover our graves." "you're not sure even of that, man," said moses pyne, who was beginning to give way to despair, "for may-hap they'll only dig a hole in the sand, an' shove us in." "more likely to leave the dogs an' vultures to clear us out o' the way," said simkin, whose powers of hope were being tested almost beyond endurance. while the prisoners indulged in these gloomy anticipations, the operation of fixing their irons was finished, after which they were taken across an inner court which was open to the sky. at the other side of this they came to another heavy iron-studded door, which, when opened, disclosed a flight of steps descending into profound darkness. "go in!" said the negro, who had accompanied them. molloy, who was first, hesitated, and the tremendous flush on his face, and frown on his shaggy brows, seemed to indicate that even yet he meditated attempting his favourite "burst"! but stevenson, pushing past him, at once descended, saying, as he went, "don't be foolish, jack; we _must_ learn to submit." there were only three steps, and at the bottom a room about fifteen feet square, to enlighten which there was a small hole high up in one of the walls. it did little more, however, than render darkness visible. "god help us!" exclaimed miles, with a sensation of sinking at the heart which he had never felt before. and little wonder, for, as their eyes became accustomed to the dim light, it was seen that the walls were blank, with nothing on them to relieve the eye save the little hole or window just mentioned; that the floor was of hard earth, and that there was not a scrap of furniture in the room--not even a stool, or a bundle of straw on which to lie down. "`i will trust, and not be afraid,'" said stevenson, in a low voice. "who will you trust?" asked simkin, who was not aware that his comrade had quoted scripture. "i will trust god," answered the marine. "i wouldn't give much for your trust, then," returned simkin bitterly, as well as contemptuously, for he had given way to despair. "you blue lights and christians think yourselves so much better than everybody else, because you make so much talk about prayin' an' singin', an' doin' your duty, an' servin' god, an' submitting. it's all hypocrisy." "don't you believe that sergeant hardy is a good soldier?" asked stevenson. "of course i do," replied simkin, in some surprise at the question. "an' _he_ doesn't think much of himself, does he?" continued the marine. "certainly not. he's one o' the kindest an' humblest men in the regiment, as i have good reason to know." "yet he frequently talks to us of attendin' to our duty, an' doin' credit to the british flag, an' faithfully serving the queen. if this is praiseworthy in the sergeant, why should the talk of duty an' service an' honour to god be hypocrisy in the christian? does it not seem strange that we blue lights--who have discovered ourselves to be much worse than we thought ourselves, an' gladly accept jesus as our saviour from sin--should be charged with thinkin' ourselves `_better_ than other people'!" "come now," cried jack molloy, seating himself on the floor, and leaning his back against the wall; "it do seem to me, as you putt it, stevenson, that the charge ought to be all the other way; for we, who make no purfession of religion at all, thinks ourselves so far righteous that we've got no need of a saviour. suppose, now, as we've got to as low a state o' the dumps as men can well come to, we all sits down in a row an' have a palaver about this matter--parson stevenson bein' the chief spokesman." they all readily agreed to this proposal. indeed, in the circumstances, any proposal that offered the faintest hope of diverting their minds from present trouble would have been welcome to them at that moment. the marine was nothing loath to fall in with the fancy of his irrepressible comrade, but we do not propose to follow them in the talk that ensued. we will rather turn at once to those events which affected more immediately the fortunes of the captives. on the morning after their arrival in the city there was assembled in the principal square a considerable concourse of soudan warriors. they stood chatting together in various groups in front of a public building, as if awaiting some chief or great man, whose richly caparisoned steed stood in front of the main entrance, with its out-runner standing before it. this runner was a splendid specimen of physical manhood. he was as black as coal, as graceful as apollo, and apparently as powerful as hercules,--if one might judge from the great muscles which stood out prominently on all his limbs, he wore but little clothing--merely a pair of short arab drawers of white cotton, a red fez on his head, and a small tippet on his shoulders. unlike negroes in general, his features were cast in a mould which one is more accustomed to see in the caucasian race of mankind--the nose being straight, the lips comparatively thin, and the face oval, while his bearing was that of a man accustomed to command. the appearance of a few soldiers traversing the square drew the eyes of all in their direction, and caused a brief pause in the hum of conversation. our friends, the captives, were in the midst of these soldiers, and beside them marched the negro interpreter whom they had first met with in the prison. at the door of the public building the soldiers drew up and allowed the captives to pass in, guarded by two officers and the interpreter. inside they found a number of military men and dignitaries grouped around, conversing with a stern man of strongly marked features. this man--towards whom all of them showed great deference--was engaged when the captives entered; they were therefore obliged to stand aside for a few minutes. "who is he?" asked molloy of the negro interpreter. "our great leader," said the negro, "the mahdi." "what! the scoundrel that's bin the cause o' all this kick-up?" asked jack molloy, in surprise. the interpreter did not quite understand the seaman's peculiar language, but he seemed to have some idea of the drift of it, for he turned up his up-turned nose in scorn and made no reply. in a few minutes an officer led the captives before the mahdi, who regarded them with a dark frown, directing his attention particularly to jack molloy, as being the most conspicuous member of the party, perhaps, also, because molloy looked at him with an air and expression of stern defiance. selecting him as a spokesman for the others, the mahdi, using the negro as an interpreter, put him through the following examination:-- "where do you come from?" he asked, sternly. "from suakim," answered molloy, quite as sternly. "what brought you here?" "your dirty-faced baboons!" it is probable that the negro used some discretion in translating this reply, for the chief did not seem at all offended, but with the same manner and tone continued-- "do you know the number of men in suakim?" "yes." "tell me--how many?" to this molloy answered slowly, "quite enough--if you had only the pluck to come out into the open an' fight like men--to give you such a lickin' that there wouldn't be a baboon o' you left in the whole soudan!" again it is probable that the interpreter did not give this speech verbatim, for while he was delivering it, the mahdi was scanning the features of the group of prisoners with a calm but keen eye. making a sign to one of his attendants to lead molloy to one side, he said a few words to another, who thereupon placed miles in front of his master. "are you an officer?" was the first question put. "no," answered our hero, with quiet dignity, but without the slightest tinge of defiance either in tone or look. "will you tell me how many men you have in suakim?" "no." "dare you refuse?" "yes; it is against the principles of a british soldier to give information to an enemy." "that's right, john miles," said molloy, in an encouraging tone; "give it 'im hot! they can only kill us once, an'--" "silence!" hissed the mahdi between his teeth. "silence!" echoed the interpreter. "all right, you nigger! tell the baboon to go on. i won't run foul of him again; he ain't worth it." this was said with free-and-easy contempt. "do you not know," resumed the mahdi, turning again to miles with a fierce expression, "that i have power to take your life?" "you have no power at all beyond what god gives to you," said miles quietly. even the angry mahdi was impressed with the obvious truth of this statement, but his anger was not much allayed by it. "know you not," he continued, "that i have the power to torture you to death?" our hero did not at once reply. he felt that a grand crisis in his life had arrived, that he stood there before an assemblage of "unbelievers," and that, to some extent, the credit of his countrymen for courage, fidelity, and christianity was placed in his hands. "mahdi," he said, impressively, as he drew himself up, "you have indeed the power to torture and kill me, but you have _not_ the power to open my lips, or cause me to bring dishonour on my country!" "brayvo, johnny! pitch into him!" cried the delighted molloy. "fool!" exclaimed the mahdi, whose ire was rekindled as much by the seaman's uncomprehended comment as by our hero's fearless look and tone, "you cannot bring dishonour on a country which is already dishonoured. what dishonour can exceed that of being leagued with the oppressor against the oppressed? go! you shall be taught to sympathise with the oppressed by suffering oppression!" he waved his hand, and, quickly leaving the court, walked towards his horse, where the fine-looking negro runner stood and held his stirrup, while he prepared to mount. instead of mounting, however, he stood for a few seconds looking thoughtfully at the ground. then he spoke a few words to the runner, who bowed his head slightly as his master mounted and rode away. grasping a small lance and flag, which seemed to be the emblems of his office, he ran off at full speed in front of the horse to clear the way for his master. at the entrance to the building an official of some sort took hold of miles's arm and led him away. he glanced back and observed that two armed men followed. at the same time he saw molloy's head towering above the surrounding crowd, as he and his comrades were led away in another direction. that was the last he saw of some at least, of his friends for a considerable time. poor miles was too much distressed at this sudden and unexpected separation to take much note of the things around him. he was brought back to a somewhat anxious consideration of his own affairs by being halted at the gate of a building which was more imposing, both in size and appearance, than the houses around it. entering at the bidding of his conductors, he found himself in an open court, and heard the heavy door closed and bolted behind him. thereafter he was conducted to a small chamber, which, although extremely simple, and almost devoid of furniture, was both cleaner and lighter than that in which he and his comrades had been at first immured. he observed, however, with a feeling of despondency, that it was lighted only by small square holes in the roof, and that the door was very substantial! here his conductor left him without saying a word and bolted the door. as he listened to the retreating steps of his jailer echoing on the marble pavement of the court, a feeling of profound dejection fell upon our hero's spirit, and he experienced an almost irresistible tendency to give way to unmanly tears. shame, however, came to his aid and enabled him to restrain them. in one corner of the little room there was a piece of thick matting. sitting down on it with his back against the wall, the poor youth laid his face in his hands and began to think and to pray. but the prayer was not audible; and who can describe the wide range of thought--the grief, the anxiety for comrades as well as for himself, the remorse, the intense longing to recall the past, the wish that he might awake and find that it was only a wild dream, and, above all, the bitter--almost vengeful--self-condemnation! he was aroused from this condition by the entrance of a slave bearing a round wooden tray, on which were a bowl of food and a jug of water. placing these before him, the slave retired without speaking, though he bestowed a glance of curiosity on the "white infidel dog," before closing the door. appetite had ever been a staunch friend to miles milton. it did not fail him now. soldier-life has usually the effect of making its devotees acutely careful to take advantage of all opportunities! he set to work on the bowlful of food with a will, and was not solicitous to ascertain what it consisted of until it was safely washed down with a draught from the jug. being then too late to enter on an inquiry as to its nature, he contented himself with a pleasing recollection that the main body of the compost was rice, one of the constituents oil, and that the whole was by no means bad. he also wished that there had been more of it, and then resumed his previous--and only possible--amusement of meditation. thinking, like fighting, is better done on a full stomach! he had gradually thought himself into a more hopeful state of mind, when he was again interrupted by the entrance of visitors--two armed men, and the magnificent negro runner whom he had observed holding the mahdi's horse. one of the armed men carried a small bundle, which he deposited on the ground, and then stood beside his companion. both stood like sentinels with drawn swords, ready, apparently, to obey the commands of the runner. advancing to the captive, the latter, producing a key, unlocked and removed his manacles. these he handed to one of the men, and, turning again to miles, said, to his great surprise, in english-- "undress, and put on de t'ings in bundle." we may here observe that up to this time miles and his comrades in adversity had worn, day and night, the garments in which they had been captured. our hero was not sorry, therefore, at the prospect of a change. untying the bundle to see what substitute was given for his uniform, he found that it contained only a pair of loose cotton drawers and a red fez. "is this all?" he asked, in surprise. "all," answered the negro. "and what if i refuse to undress?" asked miles. "your clo'es will be tore off your back and you be bastinado!" this was said so calmly, and the three grave, powerful men seemed so thoroughly capable of performing the deed, that our hero wisely submitted to the inevitable and took off his uniform, which one of the guards gathered up piece by piece as it was removed. then he pulled on the drawers, which covered him from the waist to a little below the knees. when he had put on the red fez he found himself clothed in exactly the same costume as the runner, with the exception of a small green tippet which barely covered the top of his shoulders, and seemed to be worn rather as an ornament than a piece of clothing, though perhaps it formed a slight protection from the sun. in this cool costume they left him, carrying away his uniform, as if more thoroughly to impress on him what uncommonly cool things they were capable of doing in the hot regions of the soudan! chapter twenty five. miles is promoted--molloy overthrows the mahdi, and is elevated for so doing. next day miles milton became painfully aware of the fact that his life in captivity was not to be one of ease or idleness. soon after daybreak the door of his prison creaked on its ponderous hinges, and he started up from the mat on which he had slept without covering of any kind. his visitor was the mahdi's runner, who, after closing the door, came and sat down beside him, cross legged _a la_ turk and tailor. for a brief space the handsome black stared steadily at miles, who returned the compliment as steadily, not being sure whether curiosity or insolence lay at the foundation of the stare. "englishmin," said the runner at last, "you is unfortnit." "i am indeed," returned miles; "at the same time i am fortunate in so unexpectedly finding one who recognises the fact, and who can tell me so in my own tongue. may i venture to hope that you are friendly towards me?" "yes; i am your friend, but my friendness can do for you not'ing. like youself, i am captive--slave. but in my own land i was a chief, and friend of the great and good gordon, so i is friend to all englishmin. once i was 'terpreter to gordon, but the mahdi came. i fell into his hands, and now i do run befront his horse, an' hold de stirrup! i comes to you from the mahdi wid bad news." "indeed! but i need not wonder. you could scarcely come from him with good news. what have you to tell?" "the mahdi has made you his runner," answered the negro. "that is strange news rather than bad, is it not?" "no; it is bad. he do dis 'cause he hate you. somehow you has anger him. he say he will tame you. he try to tame _me_," said the negro, with sudden and tremendous ferocity, "an' him t'ink he do it! but i only waits my chance to kill him. "now he send me again to dirty work, an' put you in my place to humble you--to insult you before every one, who will say, `look! de bold christin dog lick de dust now, an' hold de mahdi's stirrup.'" "this is indeed bad news. but how is it that you, who seem to be free, do not use your opportunity to escape? i saw you holding the mahdi's horse. it seems to be a splendid one. why did you not jump on its back and fly?" the runner frowned, and then, changing his mood, smiled sadly. "you is young," he said, "and knows not'ing. at night i am locked up like yourself. in de day-time de city is full of enemies, who all knows me. do you t'ink dey will salute, and say, `go in peace,' to de runner of de mahdi when he is running away with his best horse?" "perhaps not," said miles, "but i would try if i were you." "you will be me very soon," returned the runner, "and you can try. i did try--twice. i was caught both times and beat near to death. but i did not die! i learn wisdom; and now i submit and wait my chance to kill him. if you is wise you begin _at once_ to submit and wait too." "there is truth in what you say," rejoined miles, after a few minutes' thought. "i will take your advice and submit and wait, but only till the opportunity to escape offers. i would not murder the man even if i had the chance." "your words remind me of de good gordon. he was not vengeful. he loved god," said the runner, in a low and very different tone. "but," he added, "gordon was a white man. he did not--could not--understand de feelings of de black chief." as the last remark opened up ground which miles was not prepared to traverse, he made no rejoinder but asked the runner what the mahdi required of him in his new capacity. "he require you to learn de city, so as you know how to run when you is told--an' i is to teach you, so you come wid me," said the runner, rising. "but am i to go in this costume, or rather in this half-naked state?" asked miles, rising and spreading out his hands as he looked down at his unclothed chest and lower limbs. "you not cause for be ashamed," replied the runner, with a nod. this was true, for the hard travelling which miles had recently endured, and the heavy burdens which he had borne, had developed his muscles to such an extent that his frame was almost equal to that of the negro, and a fit subject for the sculptor's chisel. "your white skin will p'r'aps blister at first," continued the runner, "but your master will be glad for dat. here is a t'ing, however, will save you shoulders. now, you makes fuss-rate runner." he took the little green tippet off his own shoulders and fastened it on those of his successor. "come now," he added, "let us see how you can run." they passed out into the street together, and then poor miles felt the full sense of his degradation, when he saw some of the passers-by stop to gaze with looks of hatred or contempt or amusement at the "christian captive." but he had not much leisure to think or feel, for the negro ran him down one street and up another at a pace which would soon have exhausted him if, besides being a naturally good runner, he had not recently been forced to undergo such severe training. during the run his guide pointed out and named most of the chief places, buildings, and mosques. "you will do," said the negro, pausing at length and turning towards his companion with a look of approval, "you a'most so good as myself!" with this compliment he proceeded to instruct the new runner in his duties, and at night miles found himself again in his prison, ready to do full justice to his bowl of rice-compost, and to enjoy his blanket-less mat bed--if a man can be said to enjoy anything about which he is profoundly unconscious during the time of its enjoyment! next morning he awoke with a sensation that led him for a moment to fancy he must have gone supper-less to bed. while he was waiting impatiently for breakfast he revolved several ideas in his mind, one of which was that, come what might, he would not suffer any indignity, however gross, to get the better of him. he would take a leaf out of his friend stevenson's book, and bear patiently whatever was sent to him, in the hope that by so doing he might gain the good-will of his captors, and thus, perhaps, be in a better position to take advantage of any opportunity to escape that might occur. he was very confident of his power of self-restraint, and trusted a good deal to that determination of will which we have before referred to as being one of his characteristics. that same day his powers were severely tested. all the morning he was left in his prison to fret in idleness, but towards the afternoon he was called by his friend the ex-runner to go out to his work. "do what you is told an' hold you tongue, an' keep your eyes on de ground. dems my advice," said the negro, as he resigned the bridle of the mahdi's steed to his successor, and placed the lance of office in his hand. just as he did so the mahdi came out of a door-way and advanced towards them, while the negro retired and mingled with the crowd which had assembled to see the chief mount his horse. miles tried faithfully to attend to his friend's injunctions, but could not resist one glance at his new master, which showed him that a cynical smile rested on his swarthy countenance, a smile which he also observed was copied by those of the crowd who did not prefer to regard him with scowling looks--for the people of the soudan were, naturally enough, filled with indignation against all europeans, and especially against the british, at that time. the glance did not improve miles's state of mind, nevertheless he forced himself to look at the ground with an utterly expressionless face, as he held the mahdi's stirrup. he received a slight push from his master's foot instead of thanks when he had mounted, but miles resolutely kept his eyes on the ground and restrained his rising wrath, ignorant of the fact that the mahdi wished to point out the direction in which he was to run. a smart blow from the riding-switch on his naked back aroused him to his duty, and caused a slight laugh among the onlookers. never before, perhaps, was the mahdi so near his end as at that moment, for, as our hero felt the sting, and heard the low laugh, all the blood in his body seemed to leap into his brow, and the lance of office quivered as his hand tightened on it. the fact that two guards with drawn swords stood at his side, and that their weapons would have been in his heart before he could have accomplished the deed, would probably have failed to restrain him had not his pride of purpose, as we may style it, come to his aid. he looked up, with a frown indeed, but without uttering a word. the mahdi pointed along one of the streets, and miles instantly bounded away--heartily glad to be able to let off his superfluous feeling in violent action. for several hours his master kept him running--evidently on purpose to try his powers, as a jockey might test the qualities of a new horse, and, strong though he was, the poor youth began at last to feel greatly distressed, and to pant a good deal. still his pride and a determination not to be beaten sustained him. at one point of his course he was passing a band of slaves who were labouring to lift a large beam of wood, when the sound of a familiar voice caused him to look up, and then he saw his friend jack molloy, in costume like his own, _minus_ the fez and tippet, with one of his great shoulders under the beam, and the sweat pouring down his face. "hallo, miles!" exclaimed the seaman. but our hero did not dare to pause, and could not speak. his glancing aside, however, had the effect of causing him to stumble, and, being too much exhausted at the time to recover himself, he fell heavily to the ground. as he slowly rose up, half-stunned, the mahdi could scarcely avoid riding him down. as it was, he stooped, and, a second time laid his riding-switch smartly on the poor youth's naked shoulders. jack molloy, who saw the cruel act, lost all control of himself, uttered one of his leonine roars, sprang into the middle of the road, and seized the reins of the mahdi's horse. the startled animal reared and attempted to swerve. molloy assisted the swerve by a violent side-pull at the reins. at the same time he caught one of the upraised forelegs, and, with an almost superhuman exertion of strength hurled both horse and rider to the ground! a very howl of consternation and amazement burst from the populace as they beheld their mahdi lying flat and motionless on his back as if dead! of course jack molloy was instantly seized by an overpowering number of soldiers, bound hand and foot, and carried back to his dungeon, while the mahdi was tenderly raised and conveyed to the house which he inhabited at that time. miles had also been seized and dragged somewhat violently back to his prison. as for the other members of the captive band, none of them were there at the time. they were all separated at the time our hero was taken from them, and each remained for a considerable time in ignorance of the fate of his fellows. we may say at once here that they were all put to severe and menial labour. each also had his uniform exchanged for a pair of arabian drawers, and a felt cap or a fez, so that they were little better than naked. this would have mattered little--the weather being very warm--if their skins had been accustomed to the powerful rays of a tropical sun. but the effect on them was so severe that their taskmasters, in an unwonted gush of pity, at last gave them each a loose garment of sacking, which served as a partial protection. after the incident which has just been related, miles was permitted to remain during the rest of that day and night in his room. not so jack molloy. the anger of the populace was so powerfully aroused against the impetuous sailor that they clamoured for his instant execution, and at last, unable or unwilling to resist the pressure of public opinion, the officers in charge of him gave in. they put a rope round his neck, and led him to a spot where criminals were wont to be executed. as he went along and saw only scowling faces whenever he looked round in the hope of meeting some pitying eye, the poor man began to feel convinced that his last hour had in very truth arrived. "well, well, who'd ha' thowt it would ever come to this?" he sighed, shaking his head mournfully as he came in sight of the place of execution. "but, after all, ye richly desarve it, john molloy, for you've bin a bad lot the greater part o' your life!" again he looked on either side of him, for hope was strongly enshrined in his broad bosom, but not a friendly or even pitiful face could he see among all the hundreds that surrounded him. arrived at the place, he glanced up at the beam over his head, and for one moment thought of trying, like samson, to burst the bonds that held him; but it was only for a moment. the impossibility of freeing himself was too obvious. he meekly bowed his head. another instant and the rope tightened round his neck, and he felt himself swinging in the air. before his senses had quite left him, however, he felt his feet again touch the ground. the choking sensation passed away, and he found himself supported by two men. a burst of mocking laughter then proved to the wretched man that his tormentors had practised on him the refined cruelty of half-hanging him. if he had had any doubt on this subject, the remark of the interpreter, as he afterwards left him in his cell to recover as best he might, would have dispelled it-- "we will 'ang you _dead_ de nex' time!" chapter twenty six. cruel treatment--despair followed by hope and a joyful discovery. after the rough treatment he had received, the mahdi, as we may well believe, did not feel more amiably disposed towards his prisoners. of course he had no reason for blaming miles for what had occurred, nevertheless he vented his wrath against white men in general on him, by keeping him constantly on the move, and enforcing prolonged and unusual speed while running, besides subjecting him publicly to many insults. it was a strange school in which to learn self-restraint and humility. but our hero profited by the schooling. necessity is a stern teacher, and she was the head-mistress of that school. among other things she taught miles to reason extensively--not very profoundly, perhaps, nor always correctly, but at all events in a way that he never reasoned before. the best way to convey to the reader the state of his mind will be to let him speak for himself. as he had a habit of thinking aloud-- for sociability, as it were--in the dark cell to which he had been relegated, we have only to bend down our ear and listen. one night, about a week after the overthrow of his tyrant master, miles was seated on the hard floor of his cell, leaning against the wall, with his knees drawn up and his face in his hands--his usual attitude when engaged in meditation after a hard day's work. "i wouldn't mind so much," he murmured, "if i only saw the faintest prospect of its coming to an end, but to go on thus from day to day, perhaps year to year, is terrible. no, that cannot be; if we cannot escape it won't be long till the end comes. (a pause.) the end!--the end of a rope with a noose on it is likely to be _my_ end, unless i burst up and run a-muck. no, no, miles milton, don't you think of that! what good would it do to kill half-a-dozen arabs to accompany you into the next world? the poor wretches are only defending their country after all. (another pause.) besides, you deserve what you've got for so meanly forsaking your poor mother; think o' that, miles, when you feel tempted to stick your lance into the mahdi's gizzard, as molloy would have said. ah! poor molloy! i fear that i shall never see you again in this life. after giving the mahdi and his steed such a tremendous heave they would be sure to kill you; perhaps they tortured you to--" he stopped at this point with an involuntary shudder. "i hope not," he resumed, after another pause. "i hope we may yet meet and devise some means of escape. god grant it! true, the desert is vast and scorching and almost waterless--i may as well say foodless too! and it swarms with foes, but what then? have not most of the great deeds of earth, been accomplished in the face of what seemed insurmountable difficulties? besides--" he paused again here, and for a longer time, because there came suddenly into his mind words that had been spoken to him long ago by his mother: "with god _all things_ are possible." "yes, miles," he continued, "you must make up your mind to restrain your anger and indignation, because it is useless to give vent to them. that's but a low motive after all. is it worthy of an intelligent man? i get a slap in the face, and bear it patiently, because i can't help myself. i get the same slap in the face in circumstances where i _can_ help myself, and i resent it fiercely. humble when i _must_ be so; fierce when i've got the power. is not this unmanly--childish--humbug? there is no principle here. principle! i do believe i never had any principle in me worthy of the name. i have been drifting, up to this time, before the winds of caprice and selfish inclination. (a long pause here.) well, it just comes to this, that whatever happens i must submit with a good grace--at least, as good grace as i can--and hope that an opportunity to escape may occur before long. i have made up my mind to do it--and when i once make up my mind, i--" he paused once more at this point, and the pause was so long that he turned it into a full stop by laying his head on the block of wood which formed his pillow and going to sleep. it will be seen from the above candid remarks that our hero was not quite as confident of his power of will as he used to be,--also, that he was learning a few useful facts in the school of adversity. one evening, after a harder day than usual, miles was conducted to the prison in which he and his companions had been confined on the day of their arrival. looking round the cell, he observed, on becoming accustomed to the dim light, that only one other prisoner was there. he was lying on the bare ground in a corner, coiled up like a dog, and with his face to the wall. relieved to find that he was not to be altogether alone, miles sat down with his back against the opposite wall, and awaited the waking of his companion with some interest, for although his face was not visible, and his body was clothed in a sort of sacking, his neck and lower limbs showed that he was a white man. but the sleeper did not seem inclined to waken just then. on the contrary, he began, ere long, to snore heavily. miles gradually fell into a train of thought that seemed to bring back reminiscences of a vague, indefinable sort. then he suddenly became aware that the snore of the snorer was not unfamiliar. he was on the point of rising to investigate this when the sleeper awoke with a start, sat bolt upright with a look of owlish gravity, and presented the features of jack molloy. "miles, my lad!" cried jack, springing up to greet his friend warmly, "i thought you was dead." "and, jack, my dear friend," returned miles, "i thought--at least i feared--that you must have been tortured to death." "an' you wasn't far wrong, my boy. stand close to me, and look me straight in the eyes. d'ee think i'm any taller?" "not much--at least, not to my perception. why?" "i wonder at that, now," said molloy, "for i've bin hanged three times, an' should have bin pulled out a bit by this time, considering my weight." his friend smiled incredulously. "you may laugh, lad, but it's no laughin' matter," said molloy, feeling his neck tenderly. "the last time, i really thought it was all up wi' me, for the knot somehow got agin my windpipe an' i was all but choked. if they had kep' me up half a minute longer it would have bin all over: i a'most wished they had, for though i never was much troubled wi' the narves, i'm beginnin' now to have a little fellow-feelin' for the sufferin's o' the narvish." "do you really mean, my dear fellow, that the monsters have been torturing you in this way?" asked miles, with looks of sympathy. "ay, john miles, that's just what i does mean," returned the seaman, with an anxious and startled look at the door, on the other side of which a slight noise was heard at the moment. "they've half-hanged me three times already. the last time was only yesterday, an' at any moment they may come to give me another turn. it's the uncertainty o' the thing that tries my narves. i used to boast that i hadn't got none once, but the arabs know how to take the boastin' out of a fellow. if they'd only take me out to be hanged right off an' done with it, i wouldn't mind it so much, but it's the constant tenter-hooks of uncertainty that floors me. hows'ever, i ain't quite floored yet. but let's hear about yourself, miles. come, sit down. i gets tired sooner than i used to do since they took to hangin' me. how have they bin sarvin' you out since i last saw ye?" "not near so badly as they have been serving you, old boy," said miles, as he sat down and began to detail his own experiences. "but tell me," he added, "have you heard anything of our unfortunate comrades since we parted?" "nothing--at least nothing that i can trust to. i did hear that poor moses pyne is dead; that they had treated him the same as me, and that his narves couldn't stand it; that he broke down under the strain an' died. but i don't believe it. not that these arabs wouldn't kill him that way, but the interpreter who told me has got falsehood so plainly writ in his ugly face that i would fain hope our kind-hearted friend is yet alive." "god grant it may be so!" said miles fervently. "and i scarcely think that even the cruellest of men would persevere in torturing such a gentle fellow as moses." "may-hap you're right," returned molloy; "anyhow, we'll take what comfort we can out o' the hope. talkin' o' comfort, what d'ee think has bin comfortin' me in a most wonderful way? you'll never guess." "what is it, then?" "one o' them little books as miss robinson writes, and gives to soldiers and sailors--`the victory' it's called, havin' a good deal in it about nelson's flagship and nelson himself; but there's a deal more than that in it--words that has gone straight to my heart, and made me see god's love in christ as i never saw it before. our comrade stevenson gave it to me before we was nabbed by the arabs, an' i've kep' it in the linin' o' my straw hat ever since. you see it's a thin little thing--though there's oceans o' truth in it--an' it's easy stowed away. "i forgot all about it till i was left alone in this place, and then i got it out, an' god in his marcy made it like a light in the dark to me. "stevenson came by it in a strange way. he told me he was goin' over a battle-field after a scrimmage near suakim, lookin' out for the wounded, when he noticed somethin' clasped in a dead man's hand. the hand gripped it tight, as if unwillin' to part with it, an' when stevenson got it he found that it was this little book, `the victory.' here it is. i wouldn't change it for a golden sov, to every page." as he spoke, footsteps were heard approaching the door. with a startled air molloy thrust the book into its place and sprang up. "see there, now!" he said remonstratively, "who'd ever ha' thowt that i'd come to jerk about like that?" before the door opened, however, the momentary weakness had passed away, and our seaman stood upright, with stern brow and compressed lips, presenting to those who entered as firm and self-possessed a man of courage as one could wish to see. "i knowed it!" he said in a quiet voice to his friend, as two strong armed men advanced and seized him, while two with drawn swords stood behind him. at the same time, two others stood guard over miles. "they're goin' to give me another turn. god grant that it may be the last!" "yes--de last. you be surely dead dis time," said the interpreter, with a malignant smile. "if _you_ hadn't said it, i would have had some hope that the end was come!" said molloy, as they put a rope round his neck and led him away. "good-bye, miles," he added, looking over his shoulder; "if i never come back, an' you ever gets home again, give my kind regards to miss robinson--god bless her!" next moment the door closed, and miles was left alone. it is impossible to describe the state of mind in which our hero paced his cell during the next hour. the intense pity, mingled with anxiety and fierce indignation, that burned in his bosom were almost unbearable. "oh!" he thought, "if i were only once more free, for one moment, with a weapon in my hand, i'd--" he wisely checked himself in the train of useless thought at this point. then he sat down on the floor, covered his face with his hands, and tried to pray, but could not. starting up, he again paced wildly about the cell like a caged tiger. after what seemed to him an age he heard footsteps in the outer court. the door opened, and the sailor was thrust in. staggering forward a step or two, he was on the point of falling when miles caught him in his arms, and let him sink gently on the ground, and, sitting down beside him, laid his head upon his knee. from the inflamed red mark which encircled the seaman's powerful neck, it was obvious enough that the cruel monsters had again put him to the tremendous mental agony of supposing that his last hour had come. "help me up, lad, and set my back agin the wall," he said, in a low voice. as miles complied, one or two tears that would not be repressed fell from his eyes on the sailor's cheek. "you're a good fellow," said molloy, looking up. "i thank the lord for sendin' you to comfort me, and i _do_ need comfort a bit just now, d'ee know. there--i'm better a'ready, an' i'll be upside wi' them next time, for i feels, somehow, that i couldn't stand another turn. poor moses! i do hope that the interpreter is the liar he looks, and that they haven't treated the poor fellow to this sort o' thing." even while he spoke, the door of the cell again opened and armed men entered. "ay, here you are," cried the sailor, rising quickly and attempting to draw himself up and show a bold front. "come away an' welcome. i'm ready for 'ee." but the men had not come for molloy. they wanted miles, over whom there came a sudden and dreadful feeling of horror, as he thought they were perhaps going to subject him to the same ordeal as his friend. "keep up heart, lad, and trust in the lord," said the sailor, in an encouraging tone as they led our hero away. the words were fitly spoken, and went far to restore to the poor youth the courage that for a moment had forsaken him. as he emerged into the bright light, which dazzled him after the darkness of his prison-house, he thought of the sun of righteousness, and of the dear mother who had sought so earnestly to lead him to god in his boyhood. one thing that greatly encouraged him was the fact that no rope had been put round his neck, as had been done to molloy, and he also observed that his guards did not treat him roughly. moreover, they led him in quite a different direction from the open place where he well knew that criminals were executed. he glanced at the interpreter who marched beside him, and thought for a moment of asking him what might be his impending fate, but the man's look was so forbidding that he forbore to speak. presently they stopped before a door, which was opened by a negro slave, and the guards remained outside while miles and the interpreter entered. the court into which they were ushered was open to the sky, and contained a fountain in the centre, with boxes of flowers and shrubs around it. at the inner end of it stood a tall powerful arab, leaning on a curved sword. miles saw at a glance that he was the same man whose life he had saved, and who had come so opportunely to the rescue of his friend molloy. but the arab gave him no sign of recognition. on the contrary, the glance which he bestowed on him was one of calm, stern indifference. "ask him," he said at once to the interpreter, "where are the christian dogs who were captured with him?" "tell him," replied miles, when this was translated, "that i know nothing about the fate of any of them except one." "which one is that?" "the sailor," answered miles. "where is he?" "in the prison i have just left." "and you know nothing about the others?" "nothing whatever." the arab seemed to ponder these replies for a few minutes. then, turning to the interpreter, he spoke in a tone that seemed to miles to imply the giving of some strict orders, after which, with a wave of his hand, and a majestic inclination of the head, he dismissed them. although there was little in the interview to afford encouragement, miles nevertheless was rendered much more hopeful by it, all the more that he observed a distinct difference in the bearing of the interpreter towards him as they went out. "who is that?" he ventured to ask as he walked back to the prison. "that is mohammed, the mahdi's cousin," answered the interpreter. miles was about to put some more questions when he was brought to a sudden stand, and rendered for the moment speechless by the sight of moses pyne--not bearing heavy burdens, or labouring in chains, as might have been expected, but standing in a shallow recess or niche in the wall of a house, busily engaged over a small brazier, cooking beans in oil, and selling the same to the passers-by! "what you see?" demanded the interpreter. "i see an old friend and comrade. may i speak to him?" asked miles, eagerly. "you may," answered the interpreter. the surprise and joy of moses when his friend slapped him on the shoulder and saluted him by name is not easily described. "i _am_ so glad to see you, old fellow!" he said, with sparkling eyes. "i thought you must be dead, for i've tried so often to find out what had become of you. have some beans and oil?" he dipped a huge ladleful out of the pot, as if he were going to administer a dose on the spot. "no, thank you, moses, i'm a prisoner. these are my guards. i wonder they have allowed me even to exchange a word with you. must be quick. they told us you had been half-hanged till you were frightened to death." "they told you lies, then. i've been very well treated, but what troubles me is i can't find out where any of our comrades have gone to." "i can tell only of one. molloy is alive. i wish i could say he's well. of the others i'm as ignorant as yourself. but i've seen a friend who--" at this point he was interrupted by the interpreter and told to move on, which he was fain to do with a cheery good-bye to moses and a wave of the hand. arrived at the prison, he found that molloy had been removed to a more comfortable room, into which he was also ushered, and there they were left alone together. "d'you feel better now, my poor fellow?" asked miles, when the door was shut. "better, bless you, yes! i feels far too well. they've given me a rare blow-out of beans an' oil since you were taken off to be hanged, and i feels so strong that the next turn off won't finish me! i could never have eaten 'em, thinkin' of you, but, d'ee know, i was quite sure, from the way they treated you as you went out, that it warn't to be hangin' wi' you this time. an' when they putt me into this here room, an' produced the beans an' oil, i began to feel quite easy in my mind about you. it was the man that brought your marchin' orders that told 'em to putt me here. d'ee know, lad, i can't help feelin' that a friend o' some sort must have bin raised up to us." "you're right, jack, i have just seen the arab whose life i saved, and who saved yours! it's very strange, too, that beans and oil should have been your fare to-day, for i have also seen moses pyne in the street, not half-an-hour since, cooking and selling beans and oil!" "you don't mean that?" "indeed i do. i've spoken to him." sitting down on a stool--for they were promoted to a furnished apartment--miles entered into an elaborate account of all that had befallen him since the hour that he had been taken out, as they both thought, to be hanged! chapter twenty seven. in which hopes and fears rise and fall. "there is a tide in the affairs of men," undoubtedly, and the tide in the affairs of miles milton and his comrades appeared to have reached low-water at this time, for, on the day mentioned in the last chapter, it began to turn, and continued for a considerable time to rise. the first clear evidence of the change was the "blow-out" of beans and oil, coupled with the change of prison. the next was the sudden appearance of the beans-and-oil-man himself. "why, i do believe--it's--it's moses," exclaimed molloy, as his old comrade entered the prison. "give us your flipper. man alive! but i'm right glad to see you. we thought you was--let's have a look at your neck. no; nothing there. i knowed as that interpreter was a liar. but what brings you _here_, lad? what mischief have 'ee bin up to?" "that's what puzzles myself, jack," said moses, shaking hands warmly with miles. "i've done nothing that i know of except sell beans and oil. it's true i burned 'em sometimes a bit, but they'd hardly put a fellow in jail for that--would they? however, i'm glad they've done it, whatever the reason, seeing that it has brought us three together again. but, i say," continued moses, while a look of anxiety came over his innocent face, "what can have become of our other comrades?" "you may well ask that, lad. i've asked the same question of myself for many a day, but have never bin able to get from myself a satisfactory answer. i'm wery much afeared that we'll never see 'em again." it seemed almost to be a spring-tide in the affairs of the trio at that time, for while the seaman was speaking--as if to rebuke his want of faith--the door opened and their comrade armstrong walked in. for a few moments they were all rendered speechless! then miles sprang up, seized his friend by both shoulders, and gazed into his face; it was a very thin and careworn face at that time, as if much of the bloom of youth had been wiped from it for ever. "willie! am i dreaming?" exclaimed miles. "if you are, so must i be," replied his friend, "for when i saw you last you had not taken to half-nakedness as a costume!" "come now," retorted miles, "you have not much to boast of in that way yourself." "there you are wrong, miles, for i have to boast that i made my garment myself. true, it's only a sack, but i cut the hole in the bottom of it for my head with my own hand, and stitched on the short sleeves with a packing-needle. but, i say, what's been the matter with molloy? have they been working you too hard, jack?" "no, willum, no, i can't exactly say that, but they've bin hangin' me too hard. i'll tell 'ee all about it in coorse o' time. man alive! but they _have_ took the flesh off your bones somehow; let's see--no, your neck's all right. must have bin some other way." "the way was simple enough," returned the other. "when they separated us all at first, they set me to the hardest work they could find--to dig, draw water, carry burdens that a horse might object to, sweep, and clean up; in fact, everything and anything, and they've kep' us hard at it ever since. i say _us_, because rattlin' bill simkin was set to help me after the first day, an' we've worked all along together. poor simkin, there ain't much rattle in him now, except his bones. i don't know why they sent me here and not him. and i can't well make out whether i'm sent here for extra punishment or as a favour!" "have you seen or heard anything of stevenson?" asked moses. "i saw him once, about a week ago, staggering under a great log--whether in connection with house-builders or not i can't tell. it was only for a minute, and i got a tremendous cut across the back with a cane for merely trying to attract his attention." the tide, it will be seen, had been rising pretty fast that afternoon. it may be said to have come in with a rush, when, towards evening, the door of their prison once more opened and simkin with stevenson were ushered in together, both clothed alike in an extemporised sack-garment and short drawers, with this difference, that the one wore a species of felt hat, the other a fez. they were still in the midst of delighted surprise at the turn events seemed to be taking, when two men entered bearing trays, on which were six smoking bowls of beans and oil! "hallo! moses, your business follows you even to prison," exclaimed molloy. "true, jack, and i'll follow my business up!" returned moses, sitting down on the ground, which formed their convenient table, and going to work. we need scarcely say that his comrades were not slow to follow his example. the tide may be said to have reached at least half-flood, if not more, when, on the following morning, the captives were brought out and told by the interpreter that they were to accompany a body of troops which were about to quit the place under the command of mohammed, the mahdi's cousin. "does the mahdi accompany us?" miles ventured to ask. "no. the mahdi has gone to khartoum," returned the interpreter, who then walked away as if he objected to be further questioned. the hopes which had been recently raised in the breasts of the captives to a rather high pitch were, however, somewhat reduced when they found that their supposed friend mohammed treated them with cool indifference, did not even recognise them, and the disappointment was deepened still more when all of them, except miles, were loaded with heavy burdens, and made to march among the baggage-animals as if they were mere beasts of burden. the savage warriors also treated them with great rudeness and contempt. miles soon found that he was destined to fill his old post of runner in front of mohammed, his new master. this seemed to him unaccountable, for runners, he understood, were required only in towns and cities, not on a march. but the hardships attendant on the post, and the indignities to which he was subjected, at last convinced him that the mahdi must have set the mind of his kinsman against him, and that he was now undergoing extra punishment as well as unique degradation. the force that took the field on this occasion was a very considerable one--with what precise object in view was of course unknown to all except its chiefs, but the fact that it marched towards the frontiers of egypt left no doubt in the mind of any one. it was a wild barbaric host, badly armed and worse drilled, but fired with a hatred of all europeans and a burning sense of wrong. "what think ye now, miles?" asked armstrong, as the captives sat grouped together in the midst of the host on the first night of their camping out in the desert. "i think that everything seems to be going wrong," answered miles, in a desponding tone. "at first i thought that mohammed was our friend, but he has treated me so badly that i can think so no longer." "don't you think he may be doing that to blind his followers as to his friendship?" said moses; "for myself, i can't help thinkin' he must be grateful for what you did, miles." "i only wish you had not touched my rifle that day," said rattling bill, fiercely--being fatigued and out of temper--"for the blackguard would have bin in `kingdom come' by this time. there's _no_ gratitude in an arab. i have no hope at all now." "my hope is in god," said stevenson. "well, mate, common-sense tells me that that _should_ be our best ground of hope," observed molloy; "but common experience tells me that the almighty often lets his own people come to grief." "god _never_ lets 'em come to grief in the sense that you mean," returned the marine. "if he kills his people, he takes them away from the evil to come, and death is but a door-way into glory. if he sends grief and suffering, it is that they may at last reach a higher state of joy." "pooh! according to that view, _nothing_ can go wrong with them that you call his people," said simkin, with contempt. "right you are, comrade," rejoined stevenson; "_nothing_ can go wrong with us; _nothing_ can separate us from the love of god which is in christ jesus our lord; and _you_ may be one of `_us_' this minute if you will accept god's offer of free salvation in christ." silence followed, for simkin was too angry, as well as worn out, to give his mind seriously to anything at that time, and the others were more or less uncertain, as to the truth of what was advanced. sleep, profound and dreamless, soon banished these and all other subjects from their minds. blessed sleep! so aptly as well as beautifully styled, "tired nature's sweet restorer." that great host of dusky warriors--some unquestionably devout, many cruel and relentless, not a few, probably, indifferent to everything except self, and all bent on the extermination of their white-skinned foes,--lay down beside their weapons, and shared in that rest which is sent alike to the just and to the unjust, through the grand impartiality, forbearance, and love of a god whom many people apparently believe to be a "respecter of persons!" a few days later the little army came to the edge of a range of hills, beyond which lay the plains of the vast nubian desert. at night they encamped at the base of the hill-country, through which they had been travelling, and the captives were directed to take up their position in front of an old ruined hut, where masses of broken stones and rubbish made the ground unsuitable for camping on. "just like them!" growled simkin, looking about for a fairly level spot. "there's not a place big enough for a dog to lie on!" supper made rattling bill a little more amiable, though not much more forgiving to his foes. a three-quarters moon soon afterwards shed a faint light on the host, which, except the sentries, was sound asleep. towards midnight a solitary figure moved slowly towards the place where the captives lay and awakened miles, who sat up, stared, winked, and rubbed his eyes two or three times before he could bring himself to believe that his visitor was no other than the chief of the host-- mohammed! "rise. com. i speak small engleesh." miles rose at once and followed the chief into the ruined hut. "clear de ground," he said, pointing to the centre of the floor. our hero obeyed, and, when the loose rubbish was cleared away, the moonbeams, shining through the ruined roof, fell on a ring bolt. being ordered to pull it, he raised a cover or trap-door, and discovered beneath what appeared to be a cellar. "now," said mohammed, "listen: you an' friends go down--all. i shut door and cover up--rubsh. when we all go 'way, com out and go home. see, yonder is _home_." he pointed to the north-eastward, where a glowing star seemed to hang over the margin of the great level desert. "you are generous--you are kind!" exclaimed miles, with a burst of enthusiasm. "me grateful," said mohammed, extending his hand in european fashion, which miles grasped warmly. "go, wake you comerads. tell what me say, and com quick!" miles was much too well-disciplined a soldier to hesitate, though he would have liked much to suggest that some of the troops might, before starting, take a fancy to explore the ruin, and to ask how long they should remain in the cellar before venturing out. quietly awaking all his comrades, and drawing their surprised heads together, he whispered his tale in their wondering ears. after that they were quite prepared to act, and accompanied him noiselessly into the ruin. "is the cellar deep?" asked miles, as he was about to descend. "no; not deep." "but what about grub--whittles, meat, an' water--you know," said molloy, with difficulty accommodating his words to a foreigner. "we'll starve if we go adrift on the desert with nothin' to eat or drink." "here--food," said mohammed, unslinging a well-filled haversack from his shoulders and transferring it to those of the sailor. "stop there," he continued, pointing to the cellar, "till you hears guns--shoot--noise. i have make prep'rations! after that, silence. then, com out, an' go _home_." once again he pointed towards the glowing star in the north-east. "mohammed," exclaimed molloy, becoming suddenly impressed with the generous nature of the arab's action, "i don't know as you're a descendant o' the prophet, but i do know that you're a brick. give us your flipper before we part!" with a grave expression of kindliness and humour the chief shook hands with the seaman. then the captives all descended into the hole, which was not more than four feet deep, after which the arab shut the trap, covered it as before with a little rubbish, and went away. "suppose he has bolted the door!" suggested moses. "hold your tongue, man, and listen for the signal," said miles. "i forget what he said the signal was to be," observed simkin. "guns--shoot--noise--after that silence!" said armstrong. "it's a queer signal." "but not difficult to recognise when we hear it," remarked miles. the time seemed tremendously long as they sat there listening--the cellar was too low for them to stand--and they began to fancy that all kinds of horrible shapes and faces appeared in the intense darkness around them. when they listened intensely, kept silent, and held their breath, their hearts took to beating the drums of their ears, and when a sudden breath or sigh escaped it seemed as if some african monster were approaching from the surrounding gloom. "is that you, simkin, that's breathin' like a grampus?" asked molloy, after a long pause. "i was just goin' to ask you to stop snorin'," retorted the soldier. "hush! there's a shot!" it was indeed a distant shot, followed immediately by several more. then a rattle of musketry followed--nearer at hand. instantly, as if the earth had just given birth to them, the host of dusky warriors sprang up with yells of surprise and defiance, and, spear in hand, rushed in the direction of the firing. for a few minutes the listeners in the cellar heard as it had been a mighty torrent surging past the ruined hut. gradually the force of the rush began to abate, while the yells and firing became more distant; at last all sounds ceased, and the listeners were again oppressed by the beating on the drums of their ears. "they're all gone--every mother's son," said molloy at last, breaking the oppressive silence. "that's so," said rattling bill; "up wi' the trap, miles. you're under it, ain't you? i'm suffocating in this hole." "i'm not under it. molloy came down last," said miles. "what if we can't find it?" suggested stevenson. "horrible!" said moses, in a hoarse whisper, "and this may be a huge cavern, with miles of space around us, instead of a small cellar!" "here it is!" cried the sailor, making a heave with his broad back. "i say--it won't move! ah, i wasn't rightly under it. yo! heave-o!" up went the door with a crash, and the soft moonlight streamed in upon them. a few seconds more and they stood outside the hut--apparently the only living beings in all that region, which had been so full of human life but a few minutes before. "now we must lose no time in getting away from this place, and covering as much of the desert as we can during the night," said miles, "for it strikes me that we'll have to lie quiet during the day, for fear of being seen and chased." they spoke together in whispers for a few minutes, deciding the course they meant to pursue. then molloy shouldered the provision bag, miles grasped his official lance--the only weapon they had among them,--and off they set on their journey across the desert, like a ship entering on an unknown sea, without the smallest idea of how far they were from the frontier of egypt, and but a vague notion of the direction in which they ought to go. chapter twenty eight. a horrible situation. all that night our fugitives walked steadily in the direction of their guiding-star, until the dawn of day began to absorb its light. then they selected a couple of prominent bushes on the horizon, and, by keeping these always in their relative positions, were enabled to shape their course in what they believed to be the right direction. by repeating the process continuously they were enabled to advance in a fairly straight line. molloy, as we have said, carried the provision bag, and, although it was a very heavy one, he refused to let his comrades relieve him of it until breakfast-time. then it was discovered that inside of the large bag there were rolled tight up four smaller bags with shoulder-straps to them. "a knowin' feller that mohammed is," said jack molloy, as he handed a bag to each; "he understands how to manage things. let's see what sort o' grub he has. corn-cakes, i do believe, an' dates, or some sort o' dried fruit, an'--water-bottles! well, that is a comfort. now then, boys, go ahead. we can't afford to waste time over our meals." the others so thoroughly agreed with their friend on this point that they began to eat forthwith, almost in silence. then, the provisions having been distributed, they resumed their march, which was almost a forced one, so anxious were they to get as far away as possible from the arab army. coming to a large mimosa bush in the course of the morning they halted and sat down to rest a little, and hold what the sailor called a "palaver." "you see, boys," he said, "it'll be of no manner of use our scuddin' away before the wind under a press o' canvas like this, without some settled plan--" "ain't our plan to git away from the arabs as fast as we can?" said moses pyne, who sat on a stone at the sailor's feet. "yes, moses, but that's only part of it," returned molloy. "we must keep away as well as get away--an' that won't be quite so easy, for the country is swarmin' wi' the dark-skinned rascals, as the many tracks we have already passed shows us. if we was to fall in wi' a band of 'em-- even a small one--we would be took again for sartin', for we've got nothin' to fight wi' but our fists." "these would offer but poor resistance to bullet and steel," said armstrong, "and that lance you're so fond of, miles, wouldn't be worth much." "not much," admitted miles, surveying the badge of his late office, "but better than nothing." "what if the arabs should change their course and fall in with us again?" asked moses. "no fear o' that, seein' that mohammed himself gave us our sailin' orders, an' laid our course for us; but it would never do to fall in wi' other bands, so i proposes that we cast anchor where we are, for there's pretty good holdin' ground among them bushes, keep quiet all day, an' travel only at night. i've got the krect bearin's just now, so w'en the stars come out we'll be able to fix on one layin' in the right direction, and clap on all sail, slow and aloft--stu'n s'ls, sky-scrapers, an' all the rest on it." "a good plan, jack," said armstrong, "but what if it should come cloudy and blot out the stars?" "besides," added miles, "you forget that men of the desert are skilled in observing signs and in following tracks. should any of them pass near this little clump of bushes, and observe our footsteps going towards it, they will at once come to see if we are still here." molloy put his head on one side and looked perplexed for a moment. "never mind. let 'em come," he said, with a sudden look of sagacity, "we'll circumwent 'em. there's nothin' like circumwention w'en you've got into a fix. see here. we'll dig a hole in a sandbank big enough to hold us all, an' we'll cut a big bush an' stick it in front of the hole so as they'll never see it. we can keep a bright look-out, you know, an' if anything heaves in sight on the horizon, down we go into the hole, stick up the bush, an there you are--all safe under hatches till the enemy clears off." "but they will trace our footsteps up to the hole or the bush," said miles, "and wonder why they can trace them no further. what then?" again the seaman fell into perplexed meditation, out of which he emerged with a beaming smile. "why, then, my lad, we'll bamboozle 'em. there's nothin' like bamboozlement w'en circumwention fails. putt the two together an' they're like a hurricane in the tropics, carries all before it! we'll bamboozle 'em by runnin' for an hour or two all over the place, so as no mortal man seein' our footprints will be able to tell where we comed from, or what we've bin a-doin' of." "you don't know the men of the desert, jack," rejoined miles, with a laugh. "they'd just walk in a circle round the place where you propose to run about and bamboozle them, till they found where our tracks _entered_ this bit of bush. then, as they'd see no tracks _leaving_ it, of course they'd know that we were still there. d'you see?" "that's a puzzler for you, jack," remarked moses, as he watched the perplexed expression looming up again like a cloud on the sailor's face. "by no manner o' means," retorted molloy, with sudden gravity. "i sees my way quite clear out o' that. you remember the broad track, not half a mile off from where we now sit?" "yes; made i suppose by a pretty big band o' some sort crossin' the desert," said moses. "well, lad, arter runnin' about in the bush to bamboozle of 'em, as aforesaid, we'll march back to that track on the sou'-west'ard--as it may be--an' then do the same on the nor'-west'ard--so to speak--an' so lead 'em to suppose we was a small party as broke off, or was sent off, from the main body to reconnoitre the bit o' bush, an' had rejoined the main body further on. that's what i call circumwentin', d'ee see?" while this palaver was going on, stevenson and bill simkin were standing a short way off taking observation of something in the far distance. in a few minutes they ran towards their comrades with the information that a band of men were visible on the horizon, moving, they thought, in an opposite direction to their line of march. "it may be so," said miles, after a brief survey, "but we can't be sure. we must put part of your plan in force anyhow, jack molloy. away into the scrub all of you, and stoop as you go." in saying this, our hero, almost unintentionally, took command of the little party, which at once tacitly accorded him the position. leading them--as every leader ought--he proceeded to the centre of the clump of bushes, where, finding a natural hollow or hole in the sand, at the root of a mimosa bush, three of them went down on hands and knees to scoop it out deeper, while the others cut branches with molloy's clasp-knife. using flat stones, chips of wood, and hands as shovels, they managed to dig out a hole big enough to conceal them all, the opening to which was easily covered by a mass of branches. it is doubtful whether this ingenious contrivance would have availed them, if "men of the desert" had passed that way, but fortune favoured them. the band, whether friends or foes, passed far off to the westward, leaving them to enjoy their place of fancied security. to pass the first day there was not difficult. the novelty of the position was great; the interest of the thing immense. indefinite hopes of the future were strong, and they had plenty to say and speculate about during the passing hours. when night came, preparation was made for departure. the provision bags were slung, a moderate sip of water indulged in, and they set forth, after a very brief prayer by stevenson, that god would guide them safely on their way. there was no formality in that prayer. the marine did not ask his comrades to kneel or to agree with him. he offered it aloud, in a few seconds, in the name of jesus, leaving his hearers to join him or not as they pleased. "see that you lay your course fair now, molloy," said miles, as they sallied out upon the darkening plain. "trust me, lad, i've taken my bearin's." it was very dark the first part of the night, as the moon did not rise till late, but there was quite enough light to enable them to proceed with caution, though not enough to prevent their taking an occasional bush or stump for an advancing foe. all went well, however, until dawn the following morning, when they began to look about for a suitable clump of bushes, in which to conceal themselves. no such spot could they find. "never mind, lads," said the inexhaustible molloy, "we'll just go on till we find a place. we're pretty tough just now, that's one comfort." they were indeed so tough that they went the whole of that day, with only one or two brief halts to feed. towards evening, however, they began to feel wearied, and, with one consent, determined to encamp on a slight eminence a short way in advance, the sides of which were covered with low scrub. as they approached the spot an unpleasant odour reached them. it became worse as they advanced. at last, on arriving, they found to their surprise and horror that the spot had been a recent battle-field, and was strewn with corpses and broken weapons. some days must have elapsed since the fight which strewed them there, for the bodies had been all stripped, and many of them were partially buried, while others had been hauled half out of their graves by those scavengers of the desert, hyenas and vultures. "impossible to halt here," said armstrong. "i never witness a sight like this that it does not force on me the madness of warfare! what territorial gain can make up for these lost lives--the flower of the manhood of both parties?" "but what are we to do?" objected molloy. "men must defend their rights!" "not necessarily so," said stevenson. "men have to learn to bear and forbear." "i have learned to take advantage of what luck throws in my way," said rattling bill, picking up a rifle which must have escaped the observation of the plunderers who had followed the army. the body of the poor fellow who had owned it was found concealed under a bush not far off. he was an english soldier, and a very brief inspection showed that the battle had been fought by a party of british and egyptian troops against the soudanese. it seemed as if the plunderers had on this occasion been scared from their horrible work before completing it, for after a careful search they found rifles with bayonets, and pouches full of ammunition, more than sufficient to arm the whole party. "there are uniforms enough, too, to fit us all out," said simkin, as they were about to leave the scene of slaughter. "no dead men's clo'es for me," said moses pyne, with a shrug of disgust. jack molloy declared that he had become so used to loose cotton drawers, and an easy-fittin' sack, that for his part he had no desire to go back to civilised costume! and as the rest were of much the same opinion, no change was made in the habiliments of the party, except that each appropriated a pair of boots, and miles exchanged his green tippet for a flannel shirt and a pith helmet. he also took a revolver, with some difficulty, from the dead hand of a soldier, and stuck it in his belt. thus improved in circumstances, they gladly quitted the ghastly scene, and made for a bushy hillock a few hundred yards in advance. on the way they were arrested by the sound of distant firing. "mohammed must have met our countrymen!" exclaimed molloy, with excited looks, as they halted to listen. "it may be so, but there are other bands about besides his," said miles. "what's that? a cheer?" "ay, a british cheer in the far distance, replied to by yells of defiance." molloy echoed the cheer in spite of his better judgment. "let's run an' jine 'em!" he exclaimed. "come along, then!" cried miles, with the ardour of inexperienced youth. "stop! are ye mad?" cried stevenson. "don't it stand to reason that the enemy must be between us an' suakim? and that's the same as sayin' they're between us an' our friends. moreover, the cheerin' proves that our side must be gettin' the best of it, an' are drivin' the enemy this way, so all we've got to do is to hide on that hillock an' bide our time." "right you are, comrade," cried rattling bill, examining his cartridges, and asserting with an oath that nothing would afford him greater pleasure than a good hand-to-hand fight with the black, (and something worse), scoundrels. "don't swear at your enemies, simkin," said the marine quietly; "but when you get the chance fire low!" agreeing with stevenson's advice to "bide their time," the little band was soon on the top of the hillock, and took up the best position for defending the place, also for observing the fight, which, they could now see, was drawing gradually nearer to them. they were not kept waiting long, for the natives were in full flight, hotly pursued by the english and indian cavalry. a slight breeze blowing from the north carried not only the noise, but soon the smoke of the combat towards them. as they drew nearer a large detachment of native spearmen was seen to make for the hillock, evidently intending to make a stand there. "now comes _our_ turn," said armstrong, examining the lock of his rifle to see that all was right. "`england expec's every man,' etceterer," said molloy, with a glance at miles. "capting, you may as well let us know your plans, so as we may work together." miles was not long in making up his mind. "you'll fire at first by command," he said quickly, but decidedly; "then down on your faces flat, and load. after that wait for orders. when it comes to the push--as it's sure to do at last--we'll stand back to back and do our best. god help us to do it well! don't hurry, boys-- especially in square. let every shot tell." he had barely concluded this brief address when the yelling savages reached the hillock. miles could even see the gleaming of their teeth and eyes, and the blood of the slightly wounded coursing down their black skins as they rushed panting towards the place where he and his little party were crouching. then he gave the word: "ready--present!" the smoke, fire, and death to the leading men, which belched from the bushes, did not check the rush for more than a moment. and even that check was the result of surprise more than fear. a party of those arabs who were armed with rifles instantly replied, but the bullets passed harmlessly over the prostrate men. again the voice of miles was heard: "ready--present!" and again the leading men of the enemy fell, but the rushing host only divided, and swept round the hillock, so as to take it on both sides at once. "now--form square! and pick each man," cried miles, springing up and standing back to back with armstrong. molloy stood shoulder to shoulder with him and backed bill simkin, while stevenson did the same for moses pyne. the bushes did not rise much above their waists, and as the dusky host suddenly beheld the knot of strange-looking men, whose bristling bayonets glistened in the setting sunshine, and whose active rifles were still dealing death among their ranks, they dashed at the hill-top with a yell of mingled rage and surprise. another moment and spearmen were dancing round the little square like incarnate fiends, but the white men made no sound. each confined himself to two acts--namely, load and fire--and at every shot a foremost savage fell, until the square became encircled with dead men. another moment and a party of arab riflemen ran to the front and took aim. just then a tremendous cheer was heard. the defenders of the hillock made a wild reply, which was drowned in a furious fusillade. the entire savage host seemed to rush over the spot, sweeping all before it, while smoke rolled after them as well as lead and fire. in the midst of the hideous turmoil, miles received a blow which shattered his left wrist. grasping his rifle with his right hand he laid about him as best he could. next moment a blow on the head from behind stretched him senseless on the ground. the return of our hero to consciousness revealed to him that he was still lying on the battle-field, that it was night, and that an intolerable weight oppressed his chest. this last was caused by a dead native having fallen across him. on trying to get rid of the corpse he made the further discovery that nearly all his strength was gone, and that he could scarcely move his right arm, although it was free, and, as far as he could make out, unwounded. making a desperate effort, he partially relieved himself, and, raising his head, tried to look round. his ears had already told him that near to him wounded men were groaning away the little of life that remained to them; he now saw that he was surrounded by heaps of dead men. excepting the groans referred to, the night was silent, and the moon shone down on hundreds of up-turned faces--the bloodless grey of the black men contrasting strangely with the deadly pallor of the white, all quiet and passionless enough now-- here and there the head of a warrior resting peacefully on the bosom or shoulder of the foe who had killed him! a slight noise on his right caused miles to turn his head in that direction, where he saw a wounded comrade make feeble efforts to raise himself, and then fall back with a deep groan. in other circumstances our hero would have sprung to his assistance, but at that moment he felt as if absolutely helpless; indeed, he was nearly so from loss of blood. he made one or two efforts to rise, but the weight of the dead man held him down, and after a few brief attempts he fainted. recovering again, he looked round, attracted by the sound of a struggle on his right. one of those fiends in human form, the plunderers of a battle-field, had, in his ghoulish progress, come across the wounded man who lay close to miles, and the man was resisting him. the other put a quick end to the strife by drawing a knife across the throat of the poor fellow. a horror of great darkness seemed to overwhelm miles as he saw the blood gush in a deluge from the gaping wound. he tried to shout, but, as in a nightmare, he could neither speak nor move. as the murderer went on rifling his victim, miles partially recovered from his trance of horror, and anxiety for his own life nerved him to attempt action of some sort. he thought of the revolver for the first time at that moment, and the remembrance seemed to infuse new life into him. putting his right hand to his belt, he found it there, but drew it with difficulty. doubting his power to discharge it by means of the trigger alone, he made a desperate effort and cocked it. the click made the murderer start. he raised himself and looked round. our hero shut his eyes and lay perfectly still. supposing probably that he must have been mistaken, the man resumed his work. miles could have easily shot him where he kneeled if he had retained power to lift his arm and take an aim. as it was, he had strength only to retain the weapon in his grasp. after a short time, that seemed an age to the helpless watcher, the murderer rose and turned his attention to another dead man, but passing him, came towards miles, whose spirit turned for one moment to god in an agonising prayer for help. the help came in the form of revived courage. calm, cool, firm self-possession seemed to overbear all other feelings. he half closed his eyes as the murderer approached, and gently turned the muzzle of the revolver upwards. he even let the man bend over him and look close into his face to see if he were dead, then he pulled the trigger. miles had aimed, he thought, at the man's breast, but the bullet entered under his chin and went crashing into his brain. a gush of warm blood spouted over miles's face as the wretch plunged over him, head first, and fell close by his side. he did not die at once. the nature of the ground prevented miles from seeing him, but he could hear him gradually gasp his life away. a few minutes later and footsteps were heard ascending the hillock. miles grasped his revolver with a hand that now trembled from increasing weakness, but he was by that time unable to put the weapon on full cock. despair had well-nigh seized him, when a familiar voice was heard. "this way, lads. i'm sure it was hereabouts that i saw the flash." "macleod!" gasped miles, as the big scotsman was about to pass. "losh me! john miles, is that you? are ye leevin?" "scarcely!" was all that the poor youth could utter ere he became again insensible. a fatigue party tramped up with a stretcher at the moment. macleod with a handkerchief checked the ebbing tide of life, and they bore away from the bloody field what seemed little more than the mortal remains of poor miles milton. chapter twenty nine. describes a few meetings and several surprises. the fight described in the last chapter was only one of the numerous skirmishes that were taking place almost daily near suakim at that time. but it turned out to be a serious occasion to our hero, for it cost him one of his hands, and put an end to his soldiering days for ever. on being taken to the british lines the surgeons saw at once that amputation a little above the wrist was absolutely necessary. of course miles--although overwhelmed with dismay on hearing the fiat of the doctors--could offer no objection. with the informal celerity of surgical operations as practised in the field, the shattered limb was removed, and almost before he could realise the full significance of what was being done our poor hero was _minus_ his left hand! besides this, he was so cut and battered about, that most of his hair had to be cut off, and his head bandaged and plastered so that those of his old comrades who chanced to be with the troops at the time could recognise him only by his voice. even that was scarcely audible when he was carried into suakim. at this time the hospitals at suakim were overcrowded to such an extent that many of the wounded and invalids had to be sent on by sea to suez and the hospitals at ramleh. miles was sent on along with these, and finally found rest at alexandria. and great was the poor fellow's need of rest, for, besides the terrible sufferings and hardships he had endured while in captivity, the wounds and bruises, the loss of blood and of his left hand, and the fatigue of the voyage, his mind was overwhelmed by the consideration that even if he should recover he was seriously maimed for life. in addition to all this suffering, miles, while at suakim, had received a blow which well-nigh killed him. a letter came informing him of the sudden death of his father, and bitter remorse was added to his misery as he lay helpless in his cot on the red sea. the consequent depression, acting on his already exhausted powers after he reached alexandria, brought him to the verge of the grave. indeed, one of the nurses said one day to one of her fellows, with a shake of her head, "ah! poor fellow, he won't last long!" "won't he!" thought miles, with a feeling of strong indignation. "much _you_ know about it!" you see miles possessed a tendency to abstract reasoning, and could meditate upon his own case without, so to speak, much reference to himself! his indignation was roused by the fact that any one, calling herself a nurse, should be so stupid as to whisper beside a patient words that he should not hear. he did not know that the nurse in question was a new one--not thoroughly alive to her duties and responsibilities. strange to say, her stupidity helped to render her own prophecy incorrect, for the indignation quickened the soldier's feeble pulse, and that gave him a fillip in the right direction. the prostration, however, was very great, and for some time the life of our hero seemed to hang by a thread. during this dark period the value of a godly mother's teaching became deeply impressed on him, by the fact that texts from god's word, which had been taught him in childhood, and which he seemed to have quite forgotten, came trooping into his mind, and went a long way to calm and comfort him. he dwelt with special pleasure on those that told of love and mercy in jesus to the thankless and undeserving; for, now that strength, health, and the high hopes of a brilliant career were shattered at one blow, his eyes were cleared of life's glamour to see that in his existence hitherto he had been ungodly--not in the sense of his being much worse than ordinary people, but in the sense of his being quite indifferent to his maker, and that his fancied condition of not-so-badness would not stand the test of a dying hour. about this time, too, he became desperately anxious to write to his mother, not by dictation, but with his own hand. this being impossible in the circumstances, he began to fret, and his power to sleep at length failed him. then a strange desire to possess a rose seized him--perhaps because he knew it to be his mother's favourite flower. whatever the cause, the longing increased his insomnia, and as he did not say, perhaps did not know, that the want of a rose had anything to do with his complaint, no one at first thought of procuring one for him. he was lying meditating, wakefully, about many things one day when one of the nurses approached his bed. he did not see her at first, because his head was so swathed in bandages that only one eye was permitted to do duty, and that, as molloy might have said, was on the lee-side of his nose--supposing the side next the nurse to represent the wind'ard side! "i have been laid up a long time," said a lady, who accompanied the nurse, "and have been longing to resume my visits here, as one or two patients whom i used to nurse are still in hospital." the heart of miles gave a bound such as it had not attempted since the night he witnessed the murder on the battle-field, for the voice was that of mrs drew. "this is one of our latest arrivals," remarked the nurse, lowering her voice as they advanced. "a poor young soldier--lost a hand and badly wounded--can't sleep. he has taken a strange longing of late for a rose, and i have asked a friend to fetch one for him." "how lucky that we happen to have one with us!" said mrs drew, looking back over her shoulder where her daughter stood, concealed from view by her ample person. "marion, dear, will you part with your rose-bud to a wounded soldier?" "certainly, mother, i will give it him myself." she stepped quickly forward, and looked sadly at the solitary, glowing eye which gazed at her, as she unfastened a rose-bud from her bosom. it was evident that she did not recognise miles, and no wonder, for, besides the mass of bandages from out of which his one eye glowed, there was a strip of plaster across the bridge of his nose, a puffy swelling in one of the cheeks, and the handsome mouth and chin were somewhat veiled by a rapidly developing moustache and beard. miles did not speak--he could not speak; he scarcely dared to breathe as the girl placed a red rose-bud in his thin hand. his trembling fingers not only took the rose, but the hand that gave it, and pressed it feebly to his lips. with a few words of comfort and good wishes the ladies passed on. then miles drew the rose down under the bed-clothes, put it to his lips, and, with a fervently thankful mind, fell into the first profound slumber that he had enjoyed for many days. this was a turning-point. from that day miles began to mend. he did not see marion again for some time, for her visit had been quite incidental, but he was satisfied to learn that she was staying at the institute with her mother, assisting the workers there. he wisely resolved to do and say nothing at that time, but patiently to wait and get well, for he had a shrewd suspicion that to present himself to marion under existing circumstances would be, to say the least, injudicious. meanwhile, time, which "waits for no man," passed on. as miles became stronger he began to go about the hospital, chatting with the convalescent patients and trying to make himself generally useful. on one of these occasions he met with a man who gave him the sorrowful news that sergeant hardy was dead, leaving miles his executor and residuary legatee. he also learned, to his joy, that his five comrades, armstrong, molloy, stevenson, moses, and simkin, had escaped with their lives from the fight on the hillock where he fell, and that, though all were more or less severely wounded, they were doing well at suakim. "moreover," continued his informant, "i expect to hear more about 'em to-night, for the mail is due, and i've got a brother in suakim." that night not only brought news of the five heroes, but also brought themselves, for, having all been wounded at the same time, all had been sent to alexandria together. as they were informed at suakim that their comrade miles had been invalided home, they did not, of course, make further inquiry about him there. while they stayed there, awaiting the troop-ship which was to take them home, they made miss robinson's institute their constant rendezvous, for there they not only found all the comforts of english life, but the joy of meeting with many old comrades, not a few of whom were either drawn, or being drawn, to god by the influences of the place. it chanced that at the time of their arrival mrs drew and her daughter had gone to visit an english family living in the city, and did not for several days return to the institute; thus the invalids failed to meet their lady friends at first. but about this time there was announced a source of attraction in the large hall which brought them together. this attraction--which unites all creeds and classes and nationalities in one great bond of sympathy--we need hardly say was music! a concert was to take place in the great hall of the institute for some local charity, we believe, but are not sure, at which the _elite_ of alexandria was expected, and the musical talent of alexandria was to perform--among others the band of the somethingth regiment. and let us impress on you, reader, that the band of the somethingth regiment was something to be proud of! this brought numerous friends to the "officers' house," and great numbers of soldiers and jack-tars to the various rooms of the institute. in one of these rooms, towards evening, our friend stevenson was engaged, at the request of the superintendent, in relating to a number of earnest-minded men a brief account of the wonderful experiences that he and his comrades had recently had in the soudan, and jack molloy sat near him, emphasising with a nod of his shaggy head, or a "right you are, messmate," or a slap on his thigh, all the marine's points, especially those in which his friend, passing over second causes, referred all their blessings and deliverances direct to his loving god and father. in another room a bible-reading was going on, accompanied by prayer and praise. in the larger rooms, tea, coffee, etcetera, were being consumed to an extent that "no fellow can understand," except those who did it! games and newspapers and illustrated magazines, etcetera, were rife elsewhere, while a continuous roar, rather the conventional "buzz," of conversation was going on everywhere. but, apparently, not a single oath in the midst of it all! the moral atmosphere of the place was so pure that even bad men respected--perhaps approved--it. just before the hour of the concert our friends, the five invalids, sat grouped round a table near the door. they were drinking tea, and most of them talking with tremendous animation--for not one of them had been wounded in the tongue! indeed it did not appear that any of them had been very seriously wounded anywhere. while they were yet in the midst of their talk two lady-workers came down the long room, followed by two other ladies in deep mourning, the younger of whom suddenly sprang towards our quintet, and, clasping her hands, stood speechless before them, staring particularly at jack molloy, who returned the gaze with interest. "beg pard'n, miss drew," exclaimed the sailor, starting up in confusion, and pulling his forelock, "but you've hove me all aback!" "mr molloy!" gasped marion, grasping his hand and looking furtively round, "is it possible? have you _all_ escaped? is--is--" "yes, miss, we've all escaped, thank god, an' we're all here--'cept john miles, in coorse, for he's bin invalided home--" "he's no more invalided home than yourself, jack," said a seaman, who was enjoying his coffee at a neighbouring table; "leastwise i seed john miles myself yesterday in hospital wi' my own two eyes, as isn't apt to deceive me." "are ye sure o' that, mate?" cried molloy, turning in excitement to the man, and totally forgetting marion. "mother, let us go out!" whispered the latter, leaning heavily on mrs drew's arm. they passed out to the verandah--scarcely observed, owing to the excitement of the quintet at the sailor's news--and there she would have fallen down if she had not been caught in the arms of a soldier who was advancing towards the door. "mr miles!" exclaimed mrs drew, as she looked up in amazement at the scarred and worn face. "ay, mrs drew, through god's mercy i am here. but help me: i have not strength to carry her _now_." marion had nearly fainted, and was led with the assistance of her mother to a retired part of the garden, and placed in an easy-chair. seeing that the girl was recovering, the other ladies judiciously left them, and miles explained to the mother, while she applied smelling-salts to marion, that he had come on purpose to meet them, hoping and expecting that they would be attracted to the concert, like all the rest of the world, though he had scarcely looked for so peculiar a meeting! "but how did you know we were here at all?" asked mrs drew in surprise. "i saw you in the hospital," replied miles, with a peculiar look. "your kind daughter gave me a rose!" he pointed as he spoke to a withered bud which was fastened to his coat. "but--but--that young man had lost his hand; the nurse told us so," exclaimed mrs drew, with a puzzled look. miles silently pointed to the handless arm which hung at his left side. marion had turned towards him with a half-frightened look. she now leaned back in her chair and covered her face with both hands. "mr miles," said the wise old lady, with a sudden and violent change of subject, "your friends armstrong and molloy are in the institute at this moment waiting for you!" our hero needed no second hint. next minute he dashed into the entrance hall, with wonderful vigour for an invalid, for he heard the bass voice of molloy exclaiming-- "i don't care a button, leave or no leave, i'll make my way to john mi-- hallo!" the "hallo!" was caused by his being rushed into by the impetuous miles with such force that they both staggered. "why, john, you're like the ram of an iron-clad! is it really yourself? give us your flipper, my boy!" but the flipper was already in that of willie armstrong, while the others crowded round him with congratulations. "wot on airth's all the noise about in that there corner?" exclaimed a jack-tar, who was trying hard to tell an interminable story to a quiet shipmate in spite of the din. "it's only that we've diskivered our captin," cried molloy, eager to get any one to sympathise. "wot captin's that?" growled the jack-tar. "why, him as led us on the hillock, to be sure, at suakim." when acts of heroism and personal prowess are of frequent occurrence, deeds of daring are not apt to draw general attention, unless they rise above the average. the "affair of the hillock," however, as it got to be called, although unnoticed in despatches, or the public prints, was well-known among the rank and file who did the work in those hot regions. when, therefore, it became known that the six heroes, who had distinguished themselves on that hillock, were present, a great deal of interest was exhibited. this culminated when a little man rushed suddenly into the room, and, with a wild "hooroo!" seized molloy round the waist--he wasn't tall enough to get him comfortably by the neck--and appeared to wrestle with him. "it's corporal flynn--or his ghost!" exclaimed molloy. "sure an' it's both him an' his ghost togither!" exclaimed the corporal, shaking hands violently all round. "i thought ye was sent home," said moses. "niver a bit, man; they tell awful lies where you've come from. i wouldn't take their consciences as a gift. i'm as well as iver, and better; but i'm goin' home for all that, to see me owld grandmother. ye needn't laugh, you spalpeens. come, three cheers, boys, for the `heroes o' the hillock!'" most heartily did the men there assembled respond to this call, and then the entire assembly cleared off to the concert, with the exception of miles milton. "he," as corporal flynn knowingly observed, "had other fish to fry." he fried these fish in company with mrs and marion drew; but as the details of this culinary proceeding were related to us in strict confidence, we refuse to divulge them, and now draw the curtain down on the ancient land of egypt. chapter thirty. conclusion. once more we return to the embarkation jetty at portsmouth. there, as of old, we find a huge, white-painted troop-ship warping slowly in, her bulwarks and ports crowded with white helmets, and eager faces gazing at the equally eager but anxious faces on shore. miss robinson's coffee-shed shows signs of life! our friend brown is stimulating the boiler. the great solitary port-hole has been opened, and the never-failing lady-workers are there, preparing their ammunition and getting ready for action, for every troop-ship that comes to portsmouth from foreign shores, laden with the bronzed warriors of britain, has to face the certainty of going into action with that unconquerable little coffee-shed! we do not, however, mean to draw the reader again through the old scene, further than to point out that, among the many faces that loom over these bulwarks, five are familiar, namely, those of our friends miles milton, william armstrong, moses pyne, stevenson, and simkin. jack molloy is not with them, because he has preferred to remain in egypt, believing himself to be capable of still further service to queen and country. a feeling of great disappointment oppresses miles and his friend armstrong, for they fail to recognise in the eager crowd those whom they had expected to see. "my mother must be ill," muttered miles. "so must my emmy," murmured his friend. there was a very anxious little widow on the jetty who could _not_ manage to distinguish individuals in the sea of brown faces and white helmets, because the tears in her eyes mixed them all up most perplexingly. it is not surprising that miles had totally failed to recognise the mother of old in the unfamiliar widow's weeds--especially when it is considered that his was a shrinking, timid mother, who kept well in the background of the demonstrative crowd. their eyes met at last, however, and those of the widow opened wide with surprise at the change in the son, while those of the son were suddenly blinded with tears at the change in the mother. then they met--and such a meeting!--in the midst of men and women, elbowing, crowding, embracing, exclaiming, rejoicing, chaffing, weeping! it was an awkward state of things, but as every one else was in the same predicament, and as all were more or less swallowed up in their own affairs, miles and his mother were fain to make the best of it. they retired under the partial shelter of a bulkhead, where block-tackles and nautical debris interfered with their footing, and tarry odours regaled their noses, and there, in semi-publicity, they interchanged their first confidences. suddenly mrs milton observed a tall young fellow standing not far off, looking wistfully at the bewildering scene, apparently in deep dejection. "who is that, miles?" she asked. "why, that's my comrade, chum, and friend, whom i have so often written about, willie armstrong. come. i will introduce you." "oh! how selfish of me!" cried the widow, starting forward and not waiting for the introduction; "mr armstrong--i'm _so_ sorry; forgive me! i promised to let you know that your wife waits to meet you at the soldiers' institute." the difference between darkness and light seemed to pass over the soldier's face, then a slight shade of anxiety clouded it. "she is not ill, is she?" "no, no, _quite_ well," said mrs milton, with a peculiar smile; "but she thought it wiser not to risk a meeting on the jetty as the east wind is sharp. i'm so sorry i did not tell you at once, but i selfishly thought only--" "pray make no apology, madam," interrupted armstrong. "i'm so thankful that all is well. i had begun to fear that something must be wrong, for my emmy _never_ disappoints me. if she thinks it wiser not to meet on the jetty, it _is_ wiser!" a crowd of men pushed between them at this moment. immediately after, a female shout was heard, followed by the words, "there he is! och, it's himsilf--the darlint!" mrs flynn had discovered the little corporal, and her trooper son, terence, who had come down with her, stood by to see fair-play while the two embraced. drifting with a rather rapid tide of mingled human beings, miles and his mother soon found themselves stranded beside the coffee-shed. retiring behind this they continued their conference there, disturbed only by wind and weather, while the distribution of hot coffee was going on in front. meanwhile, when leave was obtained, armstrong made his way to the institute, where the old scene of bustle and hilarity on the arrival of a troop-ship was going on. here, in a private room, he discovered emmy and the _cause_ of her not appearing on the jetty. "look at him--willie the second!" cried the little woman, holding up a bundle of some sort. the soldier was staggered for a moment--the only infantry that had ever staggered him!--for his wife had said nothing about this bundle in her letters. he recovered, however, and striding across the room embraced the wife and the bundle in one tremendous hug! the wife did not object, but the bundle did, and instantly set up a howl that quite alarmed the father, and was sweetest music in the mother's ears! "now tell me," said the little woman, after calming the baby and putting it in a crib; "have you brought miles milton home all safe?" "yes, all right, emmy." "and is he married to that dear girl you wrote about?" "no, not yet--of course." "but are they engaged?" "no. miles told me that he would not presume to ask her while he had no home to offer her." "pooh! he's a goose! he ought to make sure of _her_, and let the home look after itself. he may lose her. girls, you know, are changeable, giddy things!" "i know nothing of the sort, emmy." the young wife laughed, and--well, there is no need to say what else she did. about the same time, mrs milton and her son were seated in another private room of the institute finishing off that interchange of confidences which had begun in such confusion. as it happened, they were conversing on the same subject that occupied emmy and her husband. "you have acted rightly, miles," said the mother, "for it would have been unfair and selfish to have induced the poor girl to accept you until you had some prospect of a home to give her. god will bless you for doing _the right_, and trusting to him. and now, dear boy, are you prepared for bad news?" "prepared for anything!" answered miles, pressing his mother's hand, "but i hope the bad news does not affect you, mother." "it does. your dear father died a bankrupt. i shrank from telling you this when you were wounded and ill. so you have to begin again the battle of life with only one hand, my poor boy, for the annuity i have of twenty pounds a year will not go far to keep us both." mrs milton tried to speak lightly on this point, by way of breaking it to her son, but she nearly broke down, for she had already begun to feel the pinch of extreme poverty, and knew it to be very, very different from what "well-off" people fancy. the grave manner in which her son received this news filled her with anxiety. "mother," he said, after pondering in silence for a few moments, and taking her hand in his while he slipped the handless arm round her waist, "the news is indeed serious, but our father whom you have trusted so long will not fail us now. happily it is my right hand that has been spared, and wonders, you know, may be wrought with a strong right hand, especially if assisted by a strong left stump, into which spoons, forks, hooks, and all manner of ingenious contrivances can be fitted. now, cheer up, little mother, and i'll tell you what we will do. but first, is there _nothing_ left? do the creditors take everything?" "all, i believe, except some of the furniture which has been kindly left for us to start afresh with. but we must quit the old home next month. at least, so i am told by my kind little lawyer, who looks after everything, for _i_ understand nothing." "your mention of a lawyer reminds me, mother, that a poor sergeant, who died a short time ago in egypt, made me his executor, and as i am painfully ignorant of the duties of an executor i'll go and see this `kind little lawyer' if you will give me his address." leaving miles to consult his lawyer, we will now turn to a meeting--a grand tea-fight--in the great hall of the institute, that took place a few days after the return of the troop-ship which brought our hero and his friends to england. some telling incidents occurred at this fight which render it worthy of notice. first, miss robinson herself presided and gave a stirring address, which, if not of much interest to readers who did not hear it, was a point of immense attraction to the hundreds of soldiers, sailors, and civilians to whom it was delivered, for it was full of sympathy, and information, and humour, and encouragement, and, above all, of the gospel. everybody worth mentioning was there--that is, everybody connected with our tale who was in england at the time. miles and his mother of course were there, and armstrong with emmy--ay, and with willie the second too--who was pronounced on all hands to be the born image of his father. alas for his father, if that had been true! a round piece of dough with three holes punched in it and a little knot in the midst would have borne as strong a resemblance to miles as that baby did. nevertheless, it was a "magnificent" baby! and "_so_ good," undeniably good, for it slept soundly in its little mother's lap the whole evening! stevenson was also there, you may be sure; and so were moses and sutherland, and rattling bill simkin and corporal flynn, with his mother and terence the irish trooper, who fraternised with johnson the english trooper, who was also home on the sick-list--though he seemed to have a marvellous colour and appetite for a sick man. "is that the `soldiers friend?'" asked simkin, in a whisper, of a man who stood near him, as a lady came on the platform and took the chair. "ay, that's her," answered the man--and the speaker was thomas tufnell, the ex-trooper of the queen's bays, and the present manager of the institute--"ay, that's the `soldier's friend.'" "well, i might have guessed it," returned simkin, "from the kindly way in which she shook hands with a lot of soldiers just now." "yes, she has shook hands with a good many red-coats in her day, has the `soldier's friend,'" returned the manager. "why, i remember on one occasion when she was giving a lecture to soldiers, and so many men came forward to shake hands with her that, as she told me herself, her hand was stiff and swelled all night after it!" "but it's not so much for what she has done for ourselves that we're grateful to her," remarked a corporal, who sat on simkin's right, "as for what she has done for our wives, widows, and children, through the _soldiers' and sailors' wives' aid association_. lookin' arter them when we're away fightin' our country's battles has endeared her to us more than anything else." thus favourably predisposed, simkin was open to good impressions that night. but, indeed, there was an atmosphere--a spirit of good-will--in the hall that night which rendered many others besides simkin open to good impressions. among the civilians there was a man named sloper, who had for some time past been carefully fished for by an enthusiastic young red-coat whom he had basely misled and swindled. he had been at last hooked by the young red-coat, played, and finally landed in the hall, with his captor beside him to keep him there--for sloper was a slippery fish, with much of the eel in his nature. perhaps the most unexpected visitors to the hall were two ladies in mourning, who had just arrived from egypt by way of brindisi. mrs and miss drew, having occasion to pass through portsmouth on their way home, learned that there was to be a tea-fight at the institute, and marion immediately said, "i should like _so_ much to see it!" however much "_so_ much" was, mrs drew said she would like to see it _as_ much, so away they went, and were conducted to the front row. there miles saw them! with his heart in his mouth, and his head in confusion, he quietly rose, bade his wondering mother get up; conducted her to the front seat, and, setting her down beside the drews, introduced them. then, sitting down beside marion, he went in for a pleasant evening. and it _was_ a pleasant evening! besides preliminary tea and buns, there were speeches, songs, recitations, etcetera,--all being received with immense satisfaction by a crowded house, which had not yet risen to the unenviable heights of classical taste and _blaseism_. as for miles and marion, nothing came amiss to them! if a singer had put b flat in the place of a natural they would have accepted it as quite natural. if a humourist had said the circle was a square, they would have believed it--in a sense--and tried to square their reason accordingly. but nothing is without alloy in this life. to the surprise of miles and his mother, their "kind little lawyer" also made his appearance in the hall. more than that, he insisted, by signs, that miles should go out and speak with him. but miles was obdurate. he was anchored, and nothing but cutting the cable could move him from his anchorage. at last the "kind little man" pushed his way through the crowd. "i _must_ have a word with you, my dear sir. it is of importance," he said. thus adjured, miles unwillingly cut the cable, and drifted into a passage. "my dear sir," said the little man, seizing his hand, "i congratulate you." "you're very kind, but pray, explain why." "i find that you are heir to a considerable fortune." miles was somewhat interested in this, and asked, "how's that?" "well, you remember hardy's will, which you put into my hands a few days ago?" "yes; what then? _that_ can't be the fortune!" "indeed it is. hardy, you remember, made you his residuary legatee. i find, on inquiry, that the old cousin you told me about, who meant to leave all his money to build a hospital, changed his mind at the last and made out a will in favour of hardy, who was his only relative. so, you see, you, being hardy's heir, have come into possession of something like two thousand a year." to this miles replied by a whistle of surprise, and then said, "is that all?" "upon my word, sir," said the `kind little lawyer,' in a blaze of astonishment, "you appear to take this communication in a peculiar manner!" "you mistake me," returned miles, with a laugh. "i don't mean `is that all the fortune?' but `is that all you have to say?'" "it is, and to my mind i have said a good deal." "you certainly have. and, believe me, i am not indifferent or unthankful, but--but--the fact is, that at present i am _particularly_ engaged. good-bye, and thank you." so saying, miles shook the puzzled old gentleman heartily by the hand, and hurried back to his anchorage in the hall. "i've done it, mother!" whispered miles, two days thereafter, in the privacy of the institute reading-room. "miles!" said the startled lady, with a reproachful look, "i thought you said that nothing would induce you--" "circumstances have altered, mother. i have had a long consultation with your `kind little lawyer,' and he has related some interesting facts to me." here followed a detailed account of the facts. "so, you see, i went and proposed at once--not to the lawyer--to marion." "and was accepted?" "well--yes. i could hardly believe it at the time. i scarcely believe it now, so i'm going back this afternoon to make quite sure." "i congratulate you, my darling boy, for a good wife is god's best gift to man." "how do you know she is good, mother?" "i know it, because--i know it! anybody looking in her face can _see_ it. and with two thousand a year, why--" "one thousand, mother." "i thought you said two, my son." "so i did. that is the amount of the fortune left by the eccentric old hospital-for-incurables founder. when poor hardy made out his will he made me residuary legatee because the trifle he had to leave--his kit, etcetera,--was not worth dividing between me and armstrong. if it had been worth much he would have divided it. it is therefore my duty now to divide it with my friend." but in our anxiety to tell you these interesting facts, dear reader, we have run ahead of the tea-fight! to detail all its incidents, all its bearings, all its grand issues and blessed influences, would require a whole volume. we return to it only to mention one or two gratifying facts. it was essentially a temperance--that is, a total-abstinence, a blue-ribbon--meeting, and, at the end, the "soldiers' friend" earnestly invited all who felt so disposed to come forward and sign the pledge. at the same time, medals and prizes were presented to those among the civilians who had loyally kept their pledge intact for certain periods of time. on an average, over a thousand pledges a year are taken at the institute, and we cannot help thinking that the year we are writing of must have exceeded the average--to judge from the numbers that pressed forward on this particular night. there were soldiers, sailors, and civilians; men, women, and children. amongst the first, rattling bill simkin walked to the front--his moral courage restored to an equality with his physical heroism--and put down his name. so did johnson and sutherland--the former as timid before the audience as he had been plucky before the soudanese, but walking erect, nevertheless, as men do when conscious that they are in the right; the latter "as bold as brass"--as if to defy the world in arms to make him ever again drink another drop of anything stronger than tea. moses pyne also "put on the blue," although, to do him justice, he required no protection of that sort, and so did corporal flynn and terence and their mother--which last, if truth must be told, stood more in need of the pledge than her stout sons. among the civilians several noted personages were influenced in the right direction. chief among these was sodden, blear-eyed, disreputable sloper, whose trembling hand scrawled a hieroglyphic, supposed to represent his name, which began indeed with an s, but ended in a mysterious prolongation, and was further rendered indecipherable by a penitent tear which fell upon it from the point of his red, red nose! some people laughed, and said that there was no use in getting sloper to put on the blue-ribbon, that he was an utterly demoralised man, that he had no strength of character, that no power on earth could save _him_! they were right. no power on earth could save him--or them! these people forgot that it is not the righteous but sinners who are called to repentance. time passed away and wrought its wonted changes. among other things, it brought back to portsmouth big, burly jack molloy, as hearty and vigorous as he was when being half-hanged in the soudan, but--_minus_ a leg! poor jack! a spent cannon-ball--would that it had been spent in vain!--removed it, below the knee, much more promptly than it could have been taken off by the surgeon's knife. but what was loss to the royal navy was gain to portsmouth, for jack molloy came home and devoted himself, heart and soul, to the lending of "a helping hand" to his fellow-creatures in distress--devoting his attentions chiefly to the region lying round nobbs lane, and causing himself to be adored principally by old women and children. and there and thus he probably works to this day--at least, some very like him do. when not thus engaged he is prone to take a cruise to a certain rural district in the south of england, where he finds congenial company in two very tall, erect, moustached, dignified gentlemen, who have a tendency to keep step as they walk, one of whom has lost his left hand, and who dwell in two farm-houses close together. these two gentlemen have remarkably pretty wives, and wonderfully boisterous children, and the uproar which these children make when molloy comes to cast anchor among them, is stupendous! as for the appearance of the brood, and of jack after a spree among the hay, the word has yet to be invented which will correctly describe it. the two military-looking farmers are spoken of by the people around as philanthropists. like true philanthropists, whose foundation-motive is love to god, they do not limit their attentions to their own little neighbourhood, but allow their sympathies and their benefactions to run riot round the world--wheresoever there is anything that is true, honourable, just, pure, lovely, or of good report to be thought of, or done, or assisted. only one of these acts of sympathy and benefaction we will mention. every christmas there is received by miss robinson at the soldiers' institute, portsmouth, a huge hamper full of old and new garments of all kinds--shoes, boots, gowns, frocks, trousers, shawls, comforters, etcetera,--with the words written inside the lid--"blessed are they that consider the poor." and on the same day come two cheques in a letter. we refuse, for the best of all reasons, to divulge the amount of those cheques, but we consider it no breach of confidence to reveal the fact that the letter containing them is signed by two old and grateful blue lights. the end. the egyptian campaigns. the egyptian campaigns to . _new and revised edition, continued to december, ._ by charles royle, late of the royal navy, barrister-at-law, judge of the egyptian court of appeal. illustrated by maps and plans. london hurst and blackett, limited , great marlborough street . _all rights reserved_ preface. in the new and revised edition of "the egyptian campaigns," the history of the military operations in egypt has been brought down to the present time, so as to include all the recent fighting in the soudan. this has been accompanied by a slight alteration in the title of the book, as well as by the elimination of such details contained in the original work as are no longer of general interest. the space thus gained has been utilized for the purpose of bringing before the reader the chief events of a military character which have occurred in the interval which has elapsed since the book first appeared. it has been the object of the author to make the work in its present form a complete narrative of the rise and fall of the arabist and mahdist movements, as well as a history of england's intervention in egypt, this last a subject on which many persons entertain somewhat vague and indistinct ideas. c. r. cairo, december, . contents. chap. page. i. egyptian finance ii. ismail pasha iii. the military movement iv. triumph of the army v. foreign intervention vi. critical position vii. the riots at alexandria viii. the alexandria bombardment ix. observations on the bombardment x. the day after the bombardment xi. alexandria during the bombardment xii. events on shore xiii. the situation xiv. military operations xv. the conference xvi. the porte and the powers xvii. wolseley's move to the canal xviii. de lesseps and the canal xix. seizure of the suez canal xx. tel-el-mahuta to mahsameh xxi. kassassin xxii. tel-el-kebir xxiii. capture of cairo and collapse of the rebellion xxiv. england and the porte xxv. restoration of tewfik and exile of arabi xxvi. the soudan and the mahdi xxvii. arrangements for the future xxviii. operations against the mahdi xxix. the destruction of hicks' army xxx. abandonment of the soudan: osman digna xxxi. baker's defeat at el teb xxxii. gordon's mission xxxiii. souakim expedition xxxiv. graham's victory at el teb xxxv. graham's victory at tamaai xxxvi. the gordon relief expedition xxxvii. progress to dongola xxxviii. advance to korti xxxix. stewart's desert march xl. the battle of abu klea xli. the advance on metammeh xlii. gordon's journals xliii. wilson's voyage to khartoum xliv. the fall of khartoum xlv. the retreat from gubat xlvi. the nile column xlvii. wolseley and the prosecution of the campaign xlviii. the souakim expedition of xlix. the attack on mcneill's zeriba l. graham's advance and withdrawal from the eastern soudan li. evacuation lii. continuation liii. the mahdist invasion liv. finance, the suez canal, and the army of occupation lv. the eastern soudan lvi. the nile frontier lvii. wad-en-nejumi and collapse of the invasion lviii. the eastern soudan again lix. in lower egypt lx. the dongola expedition lxi. the reconquest of dongola lxii. the advance to berber lxiii. on the river--kassala lxiv. from the nile to the atbara lxv. the battle of the atbara lxvi. the advance on omdurman lxvii. the battle of omdurman lxviii. the capture of omdurman lxix. fashoda lxx. destruction of the khalifa conclusion the egyptian campaigns. chapter i. egyptian finance. towards the close of the year , ismail pasha, then khedive of egypt, had about got to the end of his resources. his liabilities on loans, contracted either in his own name or in that of his government, amounted to £ , , ; in addition to this there was a "floating debt" of £ , , --and £ , , --due for the expenses of the war with abyssinia. the treasury bills were being daily protested, the salaries of the government officials were in arrear, and everything pointed to impending bankruptcy. this was the situation when ismail sold to the british government the shares in the suez canal company which he had inherited from his predecessor, said pasha.[ ] by the transaction, which was due to the genius of the late lord beaconsfield, england made an excellent investment of capital. she also acquired an important interest in the great maritime highway to india, and indirectly in egypt herself. attentive observers regarded what had taken place as only a prelude to a more intimate connection of england with egyptian affairs, and the financial mission of mr. cave, an important treasury official, undertaken about the same period, naturally strengthened this impression, notwithstanding lord derby's declaration that sending the mission to egypt "was not to be taken to imply any desire on the part of her majesty's government to interfere in the internal affairs of that country." there is no reason to doubt the sincerity of the foreign secretary in the matter. the policy of lord beaconsfield's cabinet, as well as that of mr. gladstone, which succeeded it, was originally one of non-intervention, and it was only the force of circumstances which led to its modification. england's first wish was that no power should interfere in egypt; her second, that in the event of interference becoming necessary, england should not be left out in the cold. when this is borne in mind, the attitude which her majesty's ministers from time to time assumed in regard to egyptian affairs becomes comparatively intelligible. in confirmation of the preceding, the reader will observe that, although one of the causes which eventually led to england's action in the valley of the nile was her mixing herself up with questions of egyptian finance, all attempts to induce her to move in this direction met for a long time with failure. when mr. cave's report, and, later on, that of messrs. goschen and joubert, revealed the embarrassed condition of the country, and the necessity for the adoption of the financial scheme set forth in the decrees of may and november, , her majesty's government declined to take any part in the arrangement. they even refused to nominate the englishmen who were to fill the various posts created by the decrees. the french, italian and austrian members of the commission of the public debt were nominated by their respective governments as early as may, , but their british colleague up to the end of the year remained unappointed. france, on the other hand, throughout the whole of the negotiations, appears to have been singularly ready to come to the front, and when in december, , the duke decazes, the french minister of foreign affairs, was asked to nominate one of the controllers of finance, he declared "that he felt no difficulty whatever on the subject." lord derby, however, persisted in his policy of abstention, and eventually the khedive was under the necessity of himself appointing the englishmen required. at last the financial scheme came into operation, and, combined with other reforms, for some time seemed likely to secure to egypt and her creditors a fair share of the blessings intended. this, however, was not destined to last. as early as june, , it became evident that the revenues set apart to meet the interest and sinking fund of the public debt were insufficient. in fact, the estimates on which the decrees were founded proved simply fallacious--a deficit of no less than £ , appeared in the revenues assigned to the service of the unified debt, and of £ , on those set apart for the privileged debt. moreover, there was strong reason to suppose that considerable portions of the receipts were being secretly diverted from their legitimate channel by ismail and his agents. at the same period serious difficulty arose in satisfying the judgments obtained against the government in the newly-established mixed tribunals. these courts, having been instituted by treaties with the powers, partook largely of an international character, and when the european creditors, on issuing execution, found that it was resisted by force, they sought the aid of their respective consuls-general. the honourable h. c. vivian, then british consul-general in cairo, a diplomatist who took a prominent part in this stage of egypt's history, had, as england's representative, to remonstrate with the khedive. the advice which mr. vivian gave, that the amounts of these judgments should be paid, was excellent, but, under the circumstances, about as practical as if he had counselled his highness to take steps to secure an annual high nile. early in , when things were going from bad to worse, mr. vivian wrote that the whole government of the country was thrown out of gear by financial mismanagement, and that affairs were becoming so entangled as to challenge the interference of foreign governments. this very sensible opinion was backed up by m. waddington, who had become french minister of foreign affairs, and who, addressing lord derby on the financial and political situation, made the significant observation that if england and france did not exert themselves at once, the matter would slip out of their hands. this suggestion, pointing obviously to the probable intervention of other powers, was not without effect, and the british foreign secretary in reply went a little further than he had yet done, and stated that "her majesty's government would be happy to co-operate with that of france in any useful measure not inconsistent with the khedive's independent administration of egypt." this was followed by mr. vivian pressing upon the khedive the necessity for "a thorough and exhaustive inquiry into the finances of the country." this constituted a fresh departure in the policy of england with regard to the egyptian question, and, as will be seen, ultimately led to that complete interference in egyptian affairs which the british cabinet had so much desired to avoid. of course, ismail had to yield, and the famous commission of inquiry instituted by the decree of th march, , assembled in cairo under the presidency of mr. (afterwards sir c.) rivers wilson, and revealed the most startling facts relating to the finances of egypt. the commission had no easy task before it, and it only attained its object through the dogged resolution of its chairman, backed by the moral support of the representatives of the powers. at the outset, the late cherif pasha, the khedive's minister of foreign affairs and of justice, refused point-blank to obey the decree, and submit to be personally examined by the commission. as cherif was a statesman who will be frequently referred to in the following pages, it may be opportune to briefly describe him. he was then about sixty years of age, and, like most of those who have held the highest posts in egypt, of circassian origin. he was amongst the favoured individuals who had been sent to france by mehemet ali to be educated. he gradually passed through nearly every post in the state with that facility which is so frequently seen in egypt, where a man is one day a station-master on the railway, the next a judge in the tribunals, and eventually a master of ceremonies, or a cabinet minister. cherif had pleasing manners, spoke french fluently, and was in every respect a gentleman. a mahomedan by religion, he was, from an early period in ismail's reign, a prominent character in egyptian history. he soon became a rival of nubar pasha (referred to further on), and he and nubar alternated as the khedive's prime ministers for many years. of a naturally indolent character, cherif always represented the _laissez aller_ side of egyptian politics. with an excellent temper, and a supremely apathetic disposition, he was always willing to accept almost any proposition, provided it did not entail upon him any personal exertion, or interfere with his favourite pastime, a game of billiards. cherif's notion in refusing to appear before the commission was of a two-fold character. educated with oriental ideas, and accustomed to regard europeans with suspicion, it is not unlikely that he resented the appointment of the commission as an unwarrantable intrusion on the part of the western powers. "here," thought he, "were a number of people coming to make disagreeable inquiries, and to ask indiscreet questions. others might answer them; he, for his part, could not, and for two reasons: first, because he couldn't if he would; and second, because he wouldn't if he could. was he, at his time of life, to be asked to give reasons for all he had done? it was ridiculous; all the world knew that he had no reasons."[ ] probably, also, cherif had his own motives for not wishing to afford too much information. though enjoying a deservedly high reputation for honesty, he belonged to what must be regarded as the "privileged class" in the country. for years this class had benefited by certain partial immunities from taxation, and these advantages the work of the commission threatened to do away with. further, cherif's love of ease and comfort, and absence of energy, indisposed him to give himself unnecessary trouble about anything in particular. be this as it may, cherif, though expressing his readiness to reply in writing to any communications which the commission might address to him, declined to do more. the decree, however, provided that every functionary of state should be bound to appear before the commission. this might have placed a less astute minister in a dilemma. cherif at once evaded the difficulty by resigning office, rightly calculating on again returning to power when the commission should have become a thing of the past. riaz pasha, then second vice-president of the commission, succeeded cherif as minister, and the inquiry proceeded without him.[ ] it will not have escaped notice that in authorizing rivers wilson, who held a high post in the office of the national debt, to sit on the commission, and in granting him leave of absence for the purpose, the british government had allowed itself to advance one stage further in its egyptian policy. the significance of the event was only partially disguised by lord derby's cautious intimation that "the employé of the british government was not to be considered as invested with any official character." in april of the same year, whilst the commission was still sitting, it became evident that there would be a deficit of £ , , in the amount required to pay the may coupon of the unified debt. further influences were brought to bear, and mr. vivian was instructed to join the french consul-general in urging upon the khedive the necessity of finding the requisite funds at whatever cost to himself. ismail pointed out that this could only be done by ruinous sacrifices, which he promised should nevertheless be made if it was insisted on. the representatives of england and france remained firm, and the bondholders got their money. by what means this was accomplished it is needless to inquire. rumours of frightful pressure being put on the unfortunate fellaheen, of forced loans and other desperate expedients, were prevalent in cairo, and were probably only too well founded. it is said that even the jewellery of the ladies of ismail's harem was requisitioned in order to make up the sum required. meanwhile the inquiry proceeded. it would require too much space to give at length the details of the report which the commission presented. suffice it to say that it showed confusion and irregularity everywhere. taxes were collected in the most arbitrary and oppressive manner, and at the most unfavourable periods of the year. the land tenures were so arranged that the wealthier proprietors evaded a great portion of the land tax, and the _corvée_, or system of forced labour, was applied in a way which was ruinous to the country. further, the khedive and his family had amassed, at the expense of the state, colossal properties, amounting, in fact, to as much as one-fifth of the whole cultivable land of egypt, and this property the commission declared ought to be given up. on every side the most flagrant abuses were shown to prevail. in conclusion, it was found that the arrangements made by the financial decrees of could not possibly be adhered to, and that a fresh liquidation was inevitable. ismail, after every effort to make better terms for himself, yielded to rivers wilson's requisitions, and accepted the conclusions of the commission. he acquiesced with as good grace as he could in making over to the state the landed property of himself and family. he went even further, and in august, , approved the formation of a cabinet under the presidency of nubar pasha, with rivers wilson as minister of finance and m. de blignières (the french member of the commission of the public debt) as minister of public works. at the same time, as if to show europe that he had seriously entered on the path of reform, the khedive proclaimed his intention to renounce personal rule and become a constitutional sovereign, governing only through his council of ministers. chapter ii. ismail pasha. any history of egyptian affairs at the time of the events referred to in the present chapter would be incomplete without a sketch of ismail pasha himself. he was then forty-six years of age, short in stature, and heavily and squarely built. he was corpulent in figure, of dark complexion, and wore a reddish brown beard closely clipped. with one eye startlingly bright and the other habitually almost closed, he gave one the idea of a man of more than ordinary intelligence. speaking french fluently, and possessed of a peculiarly fascinating manner, ismail exercised an almost mesmeric influence on those who came in contact with him. his business capacity was unbounded, and not the smallest detail, from the purchase of a coal cargo to the sale of a year's crop of sugar, was carried out without his personal direction. he was entitled to the denomination of merchant prince more than any one who ever bore the title, combining the two characters profitably for a long time, but in attempting to add to them that of a financier also he ended by wrecking his country. the three great passions of ismail were, his ambition to render egypt independent of the porte, his desire to accumulate landed property, and his mania for building palaces. his prodigality was unbounded, and as a result the indebtedness of egypt was raised in fifteen years from £ , , , at which his predecessor left it, to over £ , , at the time now referred to. to do ismail justice, it must be admitted that a large part of this money was spent in the construction of railways, canals, and other improvements, and in beautifying cairo, which it was his aim to convert into a sort of oriental paris. but after allowing for all this, and for the two millions sterling spent in the _fêtes_ which attended the opening of the suez canal, there is still a large balance left unaccounted for. one of the great defects of ismail's character was his absolute insincerity. when his reckless administration had brought his country to the brink of ruin, he instituted the system of financial control set forth in the decrees of . it must not be supposed that he ever meant that the system should be carried into effect, or at most that it should be more than a temporary expedient. when he promulgated reforms and enlisted a number of europeans in his service, did he intend that the reforms should become realities, or that the european officials should exercise the functions nominally intrusted to them? not for an instant. all that he desired was to throw dust in the eyes of europe. for a while he succeeded, but it was not to last. after a time it dawned on the powers that they were being played with, and from that moment ismail's downfall was assured. in nominally transforming himself into a constitutional ruler, ismail was only following out his habitual policy. the change, at any rate, looked well on paper. it would, he expected, possess a further advantage--ismail, by his personal rule, had brought egypt to the brink of ruin, and by posing as a constitutional sovereign, he hoped to transfer his responsibility to his ministers. the nomination of rivers wilson to the post of egyptian minister of finance was so unprecedented an event that it required all the care of the marquis of salisbury, who had now succeeded lord derby, to attenuate its political importance. to save appearances it was arranged that her majesty's ministers should do nothing more than give their consent to the appointment. as a consequence of the installation of constitutional government, with european ministers in the cabinet, the english and french controllers were deemed unnecessary, and the dual control was declared suspended. on the adoption of the new order of things, a hint was given to the khedive that her majesty's government relied on his steady support being given to the new cabinet, and that the position of himself and his dynasty might become seriously compromised in the event of a contrary course being adopted. it would have been well for the khedive had he taken the advice given. unfortunately, he was too much steeped in eastern intrigue, and too fond of the authority which he had nominally surrendered, to bend to the new order of things.[ ] the earliest symptom of this was the military outbreak which took place in cairo on the th february, , when officers and , discharged soldiers mobbed nubar pasha and the european members of his cabinet at the ministry of finance. the ostensible grievance was the non-payment of their salaries; the real one was the reduction in the army, a measure which had been forced on the khedive by his new advisers. both nubar and wilson were actually assaulted, and the cry of "death to the christians" was raised. what further events might have taken place it is hard to say, but, all at once, ismail personally appeared on the scene, and as if by magic order was restored. everything tended to show that ismail himself had arranged this little comedy; but be this as it may, he speedily took advantage of it to inform the consuls-general that the new state of things was a failure, and that he could no longer retain his position without either power or authority. finally he declared that unless a change were made he would not be answerable for the consequences. this was followed by the resignation of his prime minister, nubar, and the despatch of british and french vessels of war to alexandria. the progress made in the direction of british interference in egyptian affairs will not fail to strike the reader. ismail's motive in bringing about the military disturbance of the th february was to demonstrate, in the same manner as arabi pasha did later on, that he was the only real power in the country. in doing this, however, he played a dangerous game, and one which shortly after cost him his vice-regal throne. for the moment, a _modus vivendi_ was found in the appointment of his son prince tewfik (afterwards khedive) as prime minister, _vice_ nubar, and the western powers accepted the solution, at the same time giving ismail another warning, namely, that any further disturbance would be regarded as the result of his action, and the consequences to him would be very serious. the financial difficulties of the country now became so grave, that a decree suspending payment of the interest of the debt was issued at the end of march, by the advice of the ministers. then ismail all at once turned round and declared that the measure was unnecessary, and proposed a financial scheme of his own. how far this could be reconciled with his declaration that he was a constitutional ruler is not clear. this event was followed by the arbitrary dismissal of his ministers and the formation of a purely native cabinet under cherif pasha. so secretly had the change been brought about, that the former ministers only discovered it when, on going to their offices, they found their places already occupied by their successors. this veritable _coup d'état_ placed the english and french representatives in a position of some difficulty. on the one hand, the right of the khedive to change his ministers, even under the reformed regime, could not be contested; on the other, the change was of so radical a nature, and so much opposed to the moral obligations which he had contracted with the western powers, that it could hardly be permitted. the two consuls-general therefore waited on the khedive, and plainly told him that the precipitate dismissal of ministers whose services he had solicited from the governments of england and france constituted an act of grave discourtesy, and warned him of the necessity of adopting the course which they recommended to him. ismail had by this time become so used to warnings of this character, that the intimation produced but little effect. on the contrary, he at once ordered the army to be increased to , men, and followed this up by a decree of the nd april, , reducing the interest of the debt, and otherwise modifying the arrangements made by the financial decrees of . it was scarcely to be expected that ismail's action, conceived in defiance of all europe, would be tolerated, but it might, nevertheless, but for another circumstance, namely, the continued non-payment of the sums due on the judgments of the tribunals. both england and france addressed strong representations to the porte on the subject. though anxious that ismail should be taken to task, neither power was prepared to go so far as to demand his deposition. at length the hands of both were forced by a statesman who had more will and less hesitation, namely, prince bismarck. he plainly intimated that if england and france did not demand ismail's removal, germany would. this decided the matter, and the two powers, seeing the danger of the matter being taken out of their hands, summoned up sufficient resolution to apply to the sultan for the removal of the man who had so long trifled with them. meanwhile intrigues of all kinds had been going on at constantinople. ismail was privately sounded on the subject, and was given his choice, either to abdicate or to be deposed. he was reluctant to come to any decision, and in this he was strengthened by the information which he received from his agent, ibraim pasha, at constantinople. the latter, from time to time, misled his unfortunate principal. when things looked at their very worst, ibraim repeatedly assured ismail that if only sufficient money were transmitted to stamboul, everything would yet be made right. animated by this hope, the deluded khedive sent fabulous sums to the sultan, up to the moment when the latter threw him over. it is not, therefore, to be wondered at, that, when the storm actually burst, and the news of his deposition arrived, he was simply thunderstruck. at four in the morning of the th june, , the english and french consuls-general sought out cherif pasha, and made him accompany them to the palace, and after some difficulty succeeded in finding ismail. they then communicated to him despatches from constantinople, and insisted on his abdication as the only means of saving his dynasty. ismail at first refused point-blank, but later on, he qualified his refusal by stating that he would only yield to a formal order from the porte itself. the _dénouement_ was not far off, for, only a few hours later, a telegram arrived, addressed to "ismail pasha, late khedive of egypt," informing him that the sultan had deposed him, and nominated his son tewfik in his place. there was nothing for the fallen ruler to do but to bow to the inevitable, although he did not acquiesce with good grace. he showed himself most _exigeant_ as to the conditions on which he would consent to leave egypt. he wished for a large sum in ready money. he wanted smyrna selected as his place of residence. he wished to take with him all his followers, including a harem of at least three hundred women. he also demanded that an egyptian steamer should be placed at his disposal. in fact, he asked so many things that the consuls-general were at their wits' end to know what to do. the great object was to get rid of him at any price, and he was, in effect, told that he could have almost anything he wanted if he would only go at once. eventually the parties came to terms, ismail was given the money he demanded, he was allowed to choose naples in place of smyrna as a residence, and at the end of the month, accompanied by seventy ladies of his harem, he quitted alexandria in the khedivial yacht "_maharoussa_" under a royal salute from the batteries and ships of war.[ ] chapter iii. the military movement. no sooner was egypt rid of ismail pasha, than the firman of investiture of tewfik was solemnly read at the citadel in cairo with great state and ceremony. the powers having insisted on the restoration of the control, major baring (afterwards lord cromer) and m. de blignières were appointed controllers-general by the english and french governments respectively, on the th september. riaz pasha, on the rd, became prime minister. riaz is a statesman who has played an important part in egypt for many years, and is therefore deserving of a passing notice. he is of circassian family and of hebrew extraction, possesses a strong will, tenacious perseverance, and business-like habits, and he has always been remarkable for his independence. riaz is a master of detail, and has all the ins and outs of egyptian administration at his fingers' ends, and he was, therefore, all the more fitted for taking public affairs in hand at this period. his experience as president of the council of ministers in past times rendered his services especially valuable. gifted with natural foresight, he was shrewd enough to see that, when the control was re-established, england and france seriously intended to take egyptian affairs in hand, and he accepted the situation accordingly. this led him to work cordially with the controllers, with the happy result that, during the two years that his ministry lasted, egypt attained an unprecedented degree of prosperity. in april, , what was styled the commission of liquidation was appointed, and under its advice the public debt was subjected to various modifications, and other financial changes were made, including a reduction of taxation and other reforms. how long this pleasant state of things would have lasted it is impossible to say, had not trouble arisen in another direction, and the military revolt under arabi supervened and upset all previous calculations. in order to understand the nature and causes of this movement, it is necessary to know something of the egyptian military organization at the time referred to. the army, which had achieved such great things under mehemet ali, had gradually declined under his successors, and when ismail came to power was represented by a total force of , fighting men. ismail raised the number to , , but the firman of tewfik's investiture limiting the number to , , the force had to be reduced to that number. the soldiers were all brought into the ranks by the system of conscription. those recruited from the soudan were men possessed of considerable endurance and warlike qualities, but those taken from the other districts, that is, the ordinary fellah or agricultural class, had no taste for war. this is not to be wondered at when the character and habits of the latter are considered. the egyptian fellah is a type in himself. possessed of no national pride or patriotic aspirations, he cares nothing about politics, and still less for fighting. all that he asks is to be let alone, to till in peace and quietness his little plot of land on the banks of his beloved nile. do not vex him too much with forced labour, or tax him beyond his means, and he remains peaceful and fairly law-abiding from the moment of his birth till the day comes for him to be carried out to the little cemetery, the white tombs of which brighten the borders of the desert. in the preceding observations the egyptian soldier is spoken of as he was at the period under consideration. what he is capable of becoming, when placed under english officers, and properly trained under humane and just treatment, subsequent events will show. amongst the soldiers at the time of the occurrence of arabi's outbreak there was a fair amount of subordination, and but little jealousy prevailed. amongst the officers, however, the state of things was entirely different. the majority of them were of egyptian or fellah origin, whilst the others were of turkish or circassian extraction. the latter, as belonging to the same race as the reigning family, naturally constituted the dominant caste; when there was a campaign in the soudan, or any other unpleasant duty to be taken in hand, the fellah officers were selected for it. when, on the other hand, it was a question of taking duty in cairo or alexandria, the circassians were employed. naturally, a good deal of jealousy was thus created, though, as long as ismail was in power, it was not openly manifested, and discipline was maintained, except where it answered that ruler's purpose (as in the case of the demonstration against nubar and rivers wilson) that it should be otherwise. with the young and inexperienced tewfik, however, things were different--a spirit of insubordination developed itself, and the two sets of officers entered upon a struggle for the mastery. among the prominent fellah officers was a certain ali fehmi, who was a favourite of the khedive, and in command of the guards at the palace. in this capacity he was frequently called on to convey orders to osman pasha rifki, the minister of war. osman was a circassian, and felt hurt at receiving orders from a fellah officer. by what means the change was effected is uncertain, but eventually ali fell into disfavour, and became one of a group of discontented officers belonging to the same class. there were two others, abdel-el-al, and ahmed arabi, subsequently known as arabi pasha. these three, afterwards known as "the colonels," were joined by mahmoud sami pasha, a politician, and, thus associated, they formed the leaders of what began to be known as "the national party." as arabi forms one of the chief actors in the events which followed, some details relating to him may not be out of place here. in person, arabi was a big, burly specimen of the fellah type--his features were large and prominent, and his face, though stern, had a good-natured expression. he was born about the year , in the province of charkieh, in lower egypt. his father was a fellah possessing a few acres of land, and working it himself. arabi was one of four sons, and he got such education as could be afforded by the village school. in due time he was drafted by conscription into the army, and became an officer. at said pasha's death he was a captain, and one of the officers of the guard at the palace at cairo. he was once rather boisterous under the palace windows, and ismail pasha, exclaiming that he was more noisy than the big drum, and less useful, ordered him to be removed and to receive punishment. this was his first grievance against ismail, and it induced arabi to join a secret society of native officers. the objects which this society proposed to itself were the abolition of the invidious favouritism shown to circassian officers, and the deposition of ismail, the sovereign. war broke out between egypt and abyssinia; arabi was in charge of the transports at massowah, and a charge of corruption being made against him, he fell into disgrace. this fact strengthened his dislike to ismail, and, with time lying idle on his hands, he took to attending lectures at the religious university, known as the mosque el azhar, in cairo, where he acquired a certain degree of eloquence superior to that of most persons in his position. after a time, ismail, always working to increase the army, allowed him to join a regiment, and he resumed his connection with the secret society, and soon became the head of it. one of its members informed the khedive of the aims and intentions of the society, upon which ismail sent for some of the chiefs, and arabi and his confederates waited on him. they went as his enemies in fear and trembling, and left as his friends; seventy native officers were, in one day, made lieutenant-colonels, including arabi and his companions. arabi, in addition, received the high honour of having one of the khedivial slaves as his wife. when the question of the deposition of ismail came to the front, arabi took a formal oath to defend him with his life, but this did not prevent him, forty-eight hours after, going to do obeisance to tewfik as the new khedive of egypt. the latter let it be known that there was a tacit amnesty for the past, and made arabi a full colonel. of arabi's mental gifts it is impossible to form a high estimate. ignorant of any language but his own, his forte seemed to be the enunciating of any number of quotations from the koran, quite regardless of their relevancy. he had, however, original ideas at times, and must be credited, at all events, with the quality of sincerity. to europeans and european influences he was strongly opposed. on one occasion he presided at a meeting of natives assembled for the purpose of founding a free school at zag-a-zig. he pointed out the changes which european civilization had wrought in egypt, and observed that, "before the native was brought in contact with europe, he was content to ride on a donkey, to wear a blue gown, and to drink water, whereas now he must drive in a carriage, wear a stambouli coat, and drink champagne. europeans," he said, "are ahead of us, but why? is it because they are stronger, better, or more enduring than we? no; it is only because they are better taught. let us, then, be educated, and the boasted supremacy of the christians will disappear." the result of this appeal was a large subscription, and the school was established. mahmoud sami pasha, unlike his associates, was not a fellah, but of turkish descent. he was a man of consummate cunning, and of great personal ambition; basing his calculations on the power of the military movement, and not believing in the disposition of the english and french to resist it, he proposed to use the simple-minded arabi and his friends as a means of bringing himself into power. the crisis was brought about by agitators among the fellaheen officers, who objected to a proposed reduction of the army; petitions on the subject were presented, not only to the minister of war, but to the khedive himself, setting forth all their grievances, and demanding that an egyptian should be appointed minister of war. osman rifki, the actual minister of war, could not brook this, and at a cabinet council, at which mahmoud sami was present, it was decided to put the three ringleaders, ali fehmi, abdel-el-al, and arabi, under arrest. according to arabi, a steamer was in readiness to take the prisoners away, and iron boxes were prepared in which they were to be placed and dropped into the nile, but of this there is no proof beyond his statement. mahmoud sami took care to warn "the colonels" of what was going to happen, and it was arranged that if they did not by a certain time return from kasr-el-nil barracks, to which they were summoned, the soldiers of their respective regiments should march down and liberate them. it turned out exactly as provided for. on arriving at the barracks on the st february, , "the colonels" found themselves before a court-martial, but hardly had the proceedings begun before a turbulent crowd of soldiery broke in, upset the tables and chairs, ill-treated the members of the court, and carried off the prisoners in triumph to the palace. here the three colonels interviewed the khedive, and demanded the substitution of mahmoud sami for osman rifki as minister of war, an increase of the army to , men, and the establishment of a new system of promotion, which should exclude favouritism to the circassian officers. tewfik having no force wherewith to resist, yielded all that was asked of him, and there the matter for the time ended. chapter iv. triumph of the army. matters progressed for some time pretty quietly after the events referred to in the previous chapter, but in july, , two incidents occurred which were followed by important results. a native artilleryman was run over and killed in the streets of alexandria. his comrades bore the dead body to the palace and forced an entrance in defiance of the orders of their officers. they were tried, and the ringleaders were condemned to severe sentences. next, nineteen circassian officers brought charges against the colonel of their regiment, abdel-el-al, already mentioned. the charges were inquired into and found to be unfounded, whereupon the nineteen officers were removed from the active list of the army, but were restored subsequently by order of the khedive. these measures gave great umbrage to "the colonels," who believed that the order was given with a view to encourage the insubordination of the officers towards them; and a letter was written by "the colonels" to the minister of war, contrasting the leniency shown towards the nineteen officers with the severity towards the soldiers in the case of the artilleryman. the khedive by this time had become completely dissatisfied with his new minister of war, and alarmed at the bearing of "the colonels." he determined to see if energetic measures would not be successful, and appointed his brother-in-law, daoud pasha, a circassian, to the ministry of war, in the place of mahmoud sami. measures were at the same time taken for getting the disaffected regiments out of cairo. these steps were viewed with the greatest possible dissatisfaction by arabi and his colleagues. not only so, but they began to entertain considerable fear for their own personal safety. a story had got abroad that the khedive had obtained a secret "fetwah," or decree, from the sheikh-el-islam, condemning them to death for high treason. there was no foundation for the story, but it was currently believed. under these circumstances, all the chief officers signed a declaration of loyalty to the khedive and his government. their next step was to organize the demonstration of the th september, . the immediate origin of the disturbance was the order given by the minister of war for the removal from cairo to alexandria of the regiment of which arabi was the colonel. on the th september the minister of war received a communication from arabi, informing him that the troops in cairo were going at half-past three in the afternoon to the palace of abdin to obtain from the khedive the dismissal of the ministry, the convocation of the national assembly, and the increase of the army to , men. when the terms of arabi's communication were laid before the khedive at his palace at koobah, none of the ministers were present. in the absence of the british consul-general, tewfik consulted the british controller, mr. (afterwards sir auckland) colvin, who invited the khedive to take the initiative himself. two regiments were said to be faithful. colvin advised the khedive to summon them to abdin square with all the military police available, to place himself at their head, and when arabi arrived to arrest him. colvin accompanied the khedive to the abdin barracks, where the first regiment of the guard turned out and made the warmest protestations of loyalty. the same thing occurred with the soldiers at the citadel, though it was ascertained that the troops there had, previously to the khedive's arrival, been signalling to arabi's regiment at abbassieh. the khedive then announced his intention of driving to the abbassieh barracks, some three miles distant. it was already past the time fixed for the demonstration, and colvin urged him instead to proceed at once to abdin, taking with him the citadel regiment. tewfik, however, wavered. either he desired to assure himself of the support of more of his soldiers, or more probably he desired to put off the critical moment as long as possible. he persisted in driving to abbassieh. it was a long drive, and when he arrived there he found that arabi had marched with his regiment to cairo. the opportunity sought of anticipating his movements was, therefore, lost. the carriages were turned round, and on entering cairo took a long _détour_, and arrived at abdin palace by a side door. the khedive at first desired to enter the palace, but, on colvin's entreaty, consented to come out into the square. they went together, followed by half-a-dozen native and european officers. the place was filled with soldiers, some , in number, with thirty guns placed in position. the khedive advanced firmly towards a little group of officers and men (some of whom were mounted) in the centre. colvin said to him, "when arabi presents himself, tell him to give up his sword and follow you. then go the round of the regiments, address each separately, and give them the 'order to disperse.'" the soldiers all this time were standing in easy attitudes, chatting, laughing, rolling up cigarettes, and eating pistachio nuts, looking, in fact, as little like desperate mutineers as could well be imagined. they apparently were there in obedience only to orders, and, without being either loyal or disloyal, might almost be regarded as disinterested spectators. arabi approached on horseback: the khedive called out to him to dismount. he did so, and came forward on foot with several others, and a guard with fixed bayonets, and saluted. as he advanced, colvin said to the khedive, "now is your moment, give the word!" he replied, "we are between four fires. we shall be killed." colvin said, "have courage!" tewfik again wavered, he turned for counsel to a native officer at his side, and repeated, "what can i do? we are between four fires." he then told arabi to sheathe his sword. arabi did so at once, his hand trembling so with nervousness that he could scarcely get the weapon back into its scabbard. the moment was lost. instead of following colvin's advice, and arresting arabi on the spot, a step which would at once have put an end to the whole disturbance, the khedive then walked towards him and commenced to parley. he demanded what was the meaning of the demonstration. arabi replied by enumerating his demands, adding that the army had come there on behalf of the people to enforce them, and would not retire until they were conceded. the khedive addressed colvin, and said, "you hear what he says?" colvin answered that it was not befitting for the sovereign to discuss questions of this kind with colonels, and suggested his retiring to the palace, leaving others to speak to the military leaders. the khedive did so, and colvin remained for about an hour, explaining to them the gravity of the situation for themselves, and urging them to withdraw the troops whilst there was yet time. at this moment mr. (afterwards sir charles) cookson, acting british consul-general, arrived, and colvin left the continuation of the negotiations to her majesty's representative. the latter pointed out to arabi the risk which he and those with him incurred by the menacing attitude they had assumed. he told him that if they persisted in assuming the government of the country, the army must be prepared to meet the united forces of the sublime porte and of the european powers, both of whom were too much interested in the welfare and tranquillity of egypt to allow the country to descend through a military government to anarchy. arabi answered that the army was there to secure the liberties of the egyptian people. cookson replied that the khedive and europe could not recognize a mere military revolt as the expression of the will of the people, and added that even now, if the troops were withdrawn, any representations presented in the proper manner would be attended to, and he would guarantee arabi's personal safety and that of his associates. arabi, though civil, firmly refused to take the course proposed. he insisted on the adoption of the three points demanded. cookson then communicated the result of the interview to the khedive, adding that he was convinced that the only concession to which any real importance was attached was the dismissal of the ministry. his highness, after a conference with riaz pasha, consented to this, on the understanding that the other points demanded should be in suspense until the porte could be communicated with. arabi accepted these terms, insisting only that no member of the khedive's family should be included in the new cabinet, and that the minister of war should not be a circassian. on these conditions arabi promised to withdraw the troops. this, however, was not effected until an order had been signed announcing the dismissal of the ministry and the nomination of cherif pasha as the new premier. after this, arabi entered the palace and made his submission to the khedive, and the soldiers, with their bands playing and amid loud cheers for the "effendina" (sovereign), retired to their barracks. by eight o'clock all was over, and cairo, which had been much excited, had relapsed into its ordinary tranquillity. with regard to the outbreak--the third, it will be remarked, of its kind--it was on a larger scale than any previously organized, and was, as events showed, correspondingly more successful. the rebellious troops were, indeed, quieted, as on former occasions, but only by concessions which went far to place the whole government of the country under irregular military control. with regard to the attitude assumed by the khedive on the occasion, considerable allowance must be made. tewfik in the life-time of his father had never, or at all events until the latest period of ismail's reign, been allowed to come to the front. he was, therefore, the less fitted for dealing with a crisis of so formidable a character as that of the th september. born of one of ismail's female slaves in the year , tewfik was never a favourite with his father, and when his brothers were sent to europe to be educated, he himself was kept in cairo and lived in quiet obscurity. whilst they were made much of, both at home and abroad, tewfik remained quietly cultivating his farm at koobah.[ ] the difference in developing the character and dispositions of the princes was natural enough, and yet the late ruler of egypt was in many respects in no way inferior to the other members of his family. he possessed a remarkable degree of intelligence, and although a strict mahomedan he was the husband of only one wife, to whom he was devotedly attached. determined to avoid, in bringing up his children, the error perpetrated towards himself, he sent his sons to europe to be educated. in appearance he somewhat resembled his father, being short and inclined to stoutness. unlike ismail, however, tewfik was wanting in energy and determination. with either ismail, or his grandfather, mehemet ali, the demonstration of the th september would have been impossible. with ismail--supposing such an event could have taken place--the end would not have been far off. the fate of ismail pasha saddyk, minister of finance, known as the "mofettish," sufficiently shows the means by which arabi would have been disposed of.[ ] with mehemet ali the procedure would have been yet more summary. the report of a pistol would have been heard, and arabi would have rolled lifeless on the square of abdin. a volley of musketry would have dispersed his followers, and the incident would have been closed. tewfik, with his genial kindly disposition, was not the man to adopt either of the above expedients, and, as has been seen, arabi triumphed. chapter v. foreign intervention. difficulty was at first experienced in getting cherif pasha to undertake the formation of a ministry. his idea was that it was inconsistent with a due regard for his own reputation for him to pose before the world as the accomplice of the mutinous soldiery, and at one time, after an interview with arabi, cherif positively declined. meanwhile, meetings of the officers were held in which the most violent appeared to have the upper hand, and the belief that they had nothing to fear from turkish intervention emboldened them to reject an ultimatum of cherif, which was that, on condition of his undertaking the government, and guaranteeing the safety of the leaders, they should withdraw their regiments to certain posts assigned to them. public opinion, more particularly amongst the europeans, became much alarmed, and the khedive declared himself ready to yield everything in order to save public security. on the th september, however, things took an unexpected turn for the better. arabi, at the suggestion of mahmoud sami, who hoped to render cherif impossible, and to get himself nominated in his place, summoned to cairo the members of the chamber of notables. cherif had acquired a good deal of popularity among the class to which the notables belonged, and at their first meeting he found arguments to induce them to adopt a tone hostile to arabi and his friends, whom they told to attend to the army, and mind their own business. the notables went even further, and signed an address to cherif entreating him to form a ministry, and giving their personal guarantee that if he consented, the army should yield absolute submission to his orders. arabi, it will be remembered, had all along professed to act on behalf of the egyptian people, and the attitude of the notables was a severe check to him, or rather to mahmoud sami, who was pulling the wires. this last individual, seeing that the notables were playing into the hand of cherif, at once declared himself the partisan of the latter and of the chamber, and as a consequence sami was reappointed minister of war in the cabinet which cherif was eventually persuaded to form. on the th of september the new ministry was gazetted, and steps were taken for the dispersal of the disaffected regiments in the provinces. on the th of october arabi and his regiment left cairo for the military station of el ouady, in the delta. before he left he was received by the khedive, whom he assured of his respect and entire devotion. when one remembers how often arabi had gone through this ceremony, one can hardly help thinking that tewfik must, by this time, have begun to get a little tired of it. before leaving, arabi made speeches to the troops, in which he exhorted them "to remain united, and to draw even more tightly, if possible, those bonds of fraternity of which they had already given such striking examples." finally, after pointing out--it must be presumed by way of a joke--that obedience in a soldier was the first of virtues, he declared that as long as he possessed a drop of blood, or a living breath, both should belong to his beloved sovereign. meanwhile the elections for the chamber of notables, which had been convoked by the khedive for the rd of december, were proceeding. the chamber was called together under an old law of ismail's time, made in , under which the notables possessed but very limited functions. they were, in fact, simply a consultative body, with power only to discuss such matters as might be brought before them by the advisers of the government. there is no doubt that, apart from the military movement, there was a widespread feeling of discontent in the country at this time. ismail's merciless exactions, and the pressure of foreign money-lenders, had given rise to a desire to limit the power of the khedive, and, above all, to abolish the anglo-french control, which was considered as ruling the country simply for the benefit of the foreign bondholders. the control was further hated by the large landowners, because the law of liquidation (with which the controllers in the minds of the people were associated) had in a measure sacrificed their claims for compensation in respect of the cancelling of a forced loan known as the "moukabeleh," and it was still more detested by the pashas and native officials, because it interfered with the reckless squandering of public money, and the many opportunities for corruption by which they had so long benefited. in addition to this, there was a great deal of irritation at the increasing number of highly paid european officials which the reformed regime inaugurated in the latter days of ismail involved. the people began to suspect that what was occurring was only part of a plan for handing the country over to europeans. the examples lately set by england with regard to cyprus, and by france in tunis, were, it must be owned, but little calculated to inspire confidence in the political morality of either of these two powers. the prevailing irritation was kept alive by the native press, which began to indulge in the most violent abuse of europeans. the army, too, continued to show signs of insubordination in many ways. to add to the difficulties of the situation, the colonels of the regiments which had been expressly sent away into the provinces had acquired the inconvenient habit of coming back to the capital, and joining in the many intrigues on foot. next followed a demand by the minister of war for an augmentation of the war budget, in order to increase the army to the maximum allowed by the sultan's firman. under these circumstances the chamber of notables assembled on the th of december, . the earliest trouble arose from the demand of the notables that the law under which they were assembled should be modified so as to give them power to vote the budget so far as it related to such of the revenues as were not assigned to the public debt. the claim of the chamber, though plausible enough at first sight, was really, if granted, calculated to infringe all the international arrangements for the debt. it was obvious that if the chamber had the power and chose to vote an extravagant budget so far as related to the _unassigned_ revenues, the administration of the country could not be carried on, national bankruptcy might ensue, and the collection of the assigned revenues would become impossible. the chamber, however, not only refused to give way on the question of the budget, but it demanded that the law should be further amended by giving the notables other privileges, namely, the right to control the acts of public functionaries, to initiate legislation, and to hold the ministers responsible to the chamber. by getting the notables to make these demands, which he knew could not be accepted, mahmoud sami's object was to bring about a crisis which could only end in the downfall of cherif's cabinet. he had already persuaded cherif to make arabi sub-minister of war, under the pretext of securing him on the side of the ministry, and so neutralizing the influence which the army was exercising over the chamber. in reality the appointment only afforded mahmoud sami and arabi increased facilities for intriguing against cherif. the result was soon seen. the amendments to the law giving the chamber increased power were inadmissible on many grounds. were there no other objection, there was the insurmountable one that the sultan had already refused a constitution to other parts of his dominions, and would certainly oppose its being granted to egypt. to put it shortly, the amendments after being submitted to the english and french governments were declared unacceptable. this at once brought about a crisis, and the chamber, on the nd february, sent a deputation to the khedive to require him to summon a new ministry. at this period it was reported to the english and french governments that activity was being displayed in putting all the coast fortifications in an efficient state, and that the strength of the army was being augmented under the provisions of the new war budget. these circumstances, taken in conjunction with the political events above recorded, led the english and french governments to conclude that if the khedive was to be maintained in power, the time was coming for them to think about doing something in egypt. on the th of january, , sir edward malet wrote that "armed intervention had become necessary if the refusal to allow the chamber to vote the budget was to be agreed to, and yet it was impossible to do otherwise, as the measure only formed part of a complete scheme of revolution." as far back as december, , m. gambetta, then at the head of the french ministry, had suggested that england and france should take "joint action in egypt to strengthen the authority of the khedive, and to cut short intrigues at constantinople, as well as to make the porte feel that any undue interference on its part would not be tolerated." this proposal shortly after resulted in the famous joint note communicated by the english and the french representatives to the khedive in cairo, on the th january, . the document was to the effect that the english and french governments considered the maintenance of his highness upon the throne in the terms laid down by the sultan's firmans, and officially recognized by the two governments, as alone able to guarantee for the present and the future good order and prosperity in egypt, in which england and france were equally interested. it continued to say that "the two governments, being closely associated in the resolve to guard by their united efforts against all cause of complication, internal or external, which might menace the order of things established in egypt, did not doubt that the assurance publicly given of their intention in this respect would tend to divert the dangers to which the government of the khedive might be exposed, and which would certainly find england and france united to oppose them." the parentage of the joint note is attributable to the french government, which, up to this time, seemed bent on retaining the lead which it had from the first taken in regard to egyptian affairs. the wording of the document had been altered more than once to suit the late lord granville, then foreign secretary, who appears to have been not quite sure how far he was getting out of his depth in regard to egyptian matters. it was under the influence of some such misgiving that lord lyons, the british ambassador in paris, was instructed on the th january, , in communicating to the french government england's assent to the note, to make the reservation that she must not be considered as thereby committing herself to _any particular mode of action_, if action should be found necessary. in reply, m. gambetta, by a despatch dated the following day, stated that he observed with pleasure "that the only reservation of the government of the queen was as to the _mode of action_ to be employed, and that this was a reservation in which he participated." when one sees how, later on, when action became necessary, the attitude of the two countries became reversed, the extreme reluctance of the english government to move at this time seems curious enough, especially when it is contrasted with the continued readiness of france to come forward in the interval. the explanation is that m. gambetta, with his clear statesman-like intellect, foreseeing that some sort of intervention would become necessary, was determined that it should be limited to that of england and france to the exclusion of turkey, and so long as he remained in power boldly shaped his policy with that object. the english government, on the other hand, had throughout no real settled policy with regard to egypt. their first idea was to have no intervention at all; they hoped that things would mend of themselves. when they found that this was not likely to be the case, the idea of a turkish intervention found favour. france, however, was resolutely opposed to this, and to allow the latter power to take isolated action, as indeed she appeared disposed to do if thwarted, was open to serious objections. to avoid such a catastrophe the english government found themselves under the necessity of following, for the time being, the masterly lead of m. gambetta. however this may have been, england, by taking part in the joint note, assumed a definite position relative to egypt, and, throwing off all hesitation as to "interference with the internal affairs of the country," pledged herself jointly with france to support the khedive against all enemies from within or without. the first to take offence at the joint note was naturally enough the sultan, who caused lord granville to be informed that the porte considered that sending the khedive any such communication except through itself was highly improper. the sultan added that, "to protect the immunities granted to egypt, and to preserve the order and prosperity of that province, was the sincere wish and interest of the porte, whose efforts had till then always been directed to that end, and that there were no circumstances in egypt which could serve as a motive for any foreign assurances of the kind made." finally, the turkish ambassador requested that the two powers would give an explanation of what they meant. at the same time the sultan sent a circular to the other powers, protesting against the action of england and france. lord granville now began to doubt whether he had not gone a little too far, and drafted an answer to the porte of an apologetic character. the tone of the proposed reply was somewhat of the kind that a schoolboy taken to task for an act of impertinence towards his master might be expected to give. substantially, it was that the two powers did not mean anything at all. the despatch, as originally drafted, began by disclaiming any doubt whatever as to the sovereignty of the sultan over egypt. it proceeded to declare that there was no change in the policy of her majesty's government, which was as anxious as ever for the continuance of the sovereignty of the porte, and for the maintenance of the liberties and administrative independence secured to egypt by the sultan's firmans. having paid the porte these little compliments, the despatch disclaimed all ambitious views with regard to the country (of which, by the way, the sultan had been careful never to accuse the two powers), but said that they could never be indifferent to events which might plunge egypt into anarchy, and that it was only with a view to warding off such a catastrophe that her majesty's government thought it advisable, in conjunction with the french government, to forward a declaration showing the accord of the two in carrying out the policy described. the despatch finally pointed out that the form of the note was not a new one, and that similar declarations had been on special occasions made to the khedive without calling forth any remonstrance from the porte. gambetta, however, viewed the matter in a different spirit. having once gone forward he was not disposed to draw back. he had, moreover, the interests of the large body of french bondholders to protect. he at first objected that no explanation of the joint note at all was necessary, and that any attempt to explain it would only tend to encourage the military party. seeing, however, that lord granville was determined to send some reply, gambetta insisted on certain modifications in the despatch. amongst them he suggested that the assertion of the porte, that there were no circumstances that could justify the steps taken by england and france, should be answered, and proposed that it should be pointed out, first, that the authority of the khedive had been modified and diminished; second, that the chamber of notables had arrogated to itself the right of interfering with matters expressly exempted from its jurisdiction by the khedive's decree; and third, that the chamber had aimed at setting aside arrangements to which egypt was bound by international engagements with england and france. lord granville once more yielded to what he had begun to recognize as the superior mind of the french statesman, and gambetta's amendments were agreed to. it was not until the nd february, however, that the reply to the porte's remonstrance was actually sent off. in the meantime the gambetta ministry had fallen, and from this moment dates a marked change in the attitude of the french republic with regard to egypt. m. de freycinet, the successor to gambetta, though agreeing to the amended reply to the porte, cautiously inquired what meaning was to be attached to the reservation as to "taking action" made by her majesty's government in assenting to the original note. lord granville, no longer under the influence of gambetta, and apparently anxious to recede as far as possible from the somewhat bold position which he had been induced to adopt, answered, contrary to the plain words in which the reservation had been expressed, that her majesty's government reserved to themselves the right to determine, not merely the _particular mode of action_ to be adopted in egypt, but whether any action at all was necessary. de freycinet, who, it must be admitted, was equally glad to back out, then plainly declared that he was disinclined to any armed intervention in egypt, whether by france and england together, or by either separately. this announcement must have been a surprise to the british government, which, after being led by france into sending the joint note, now began to discover that in the event of its becoming necessary to take any steps to carry it into effect, england could no longer count on her as an ally. under these circumstances, and feeling that the time when action would have to be taken might not be far off, lord granville addressed a circular to the other powers, requesting them to enter upon an exchange of views as to the best mode of dealing with the egyptian question. the effect of the joint note upon the porte has been stated. it only remains to consider its effect upon the khedive and the notables. the khedive received the assurances of protection given by england and france gratefully enough. it was not so, however, with his ministers, who, on the note being communicated on the th january, wanted, like the sultan, to know what it meant. sir edward malet, in reply, assured them that the note was merely intended to convey to the khedive the assurance of the friendship of the powers, and that in point of fact it did not really mean much. it is obvious that to produce any good effect on the chamber and the national party it was necessary that the note should have been backed by the display of force, and this unfortunately was just what was wanting. in short, england and france launched their threat without being prepared to follow it up by immediate action. it created great indignation on the part of the military leaders and in the chamber; arabi declared point-blank that any intervention on the part of england and france was inadmissible. later on, when it was seen that the two powers were not really to act, but, on the contrary, were busy doing all they could to attenuate the step they had taken, the feeling of indignation gave way to one of contempt, very natural under the circumstances. amongst those who misled the chiefs of the national party none were so conspicuous as two englishmen, namely, the late sir william gregory, an ex-colonial governor, and mr. wilfred s. blunt. both these gentlemen had, whilst spending some months in egypt, conceived a violent sympathy for the national movement. they had witnessed during their stay in the country numerous instances of misrule and oppression, and they regarded arabi and his friends as the leaders of a genuine popular effort to secure political liberty and good government. in addition to the assurances which they received from sir william gregory and mr. blunt, the leaders of the national party were led to believe, and as has been seen not without reason, that england and france were not really agreed to do anything, much less to take any decisive step in the way of intervention; that the two powers were jealous of each other, and that the joint note might be safely disregarded. the arabists further clung to the hope that even were france and england allied, the other powers would prevent their interference, and the protests which four of them, namely, germany, austria, russia, and italy, made at the time against any foreign interference in egypt without their consent, certainly tended to confirm this view. this was the condition of affairs on the nd february, when, as already stated, the deputation from the chamber requested the khedive to summon a new ministry. tewfik had by this time become thoroughly alarmed. the tonic effect produced by the joint note had quite gone off, and he was beginning to doubt how far he could rely on support from england and france. he realized that by placing himself under the tutelage of the western powers he was injuring himself with the porte, and he had daily proofs afforded him of his growing unpopularity with his subjects. under these circumstances he saw nothing for it but to yield. at the suggestion of the chamber, the intriguer mahmoud sami was directed to form a new ministry, which he lost no time in doing, in conjunction with his confederate arabi, who now filled the important post of minister of war. chapter vi. critical position. although the ministry of mahmoud sami was forced upon the khedive, the position of the latter was at the time so hopeless that one must not be surprised at his endeavouring to make the best of it and put a good face upon the matter. accordingly, on the th of february, , tewfik, in true oriental style, wrote to his new premier that, in accepting the task of forming a cabinet, he had given a fresh proof of his devotion and patriotism, and the letter ended by approving of the programme which the new premier had drawn up. the programme in question referred to the arrangements for the public debt, including the control. it spoke of the necessity for judicial and other reforms, and then passed on to the burning question of the chamber of notables, and stated that the first act of the ministry would be to obtain sanction for the proposed law for the chamber. this law, it was stated, would respect all rights and obligations, whether private or international, and would wisely determine the responsibility of ministers towards the chamber as well as the discussion of laws. mahmoud sami's programme elicited from the english and french controllers a memorandum, in which they very sensibly observed that it mattered very little whether or not the intention of attacking the control was asserted, as by the very force of circumstances it became ineffectual when the controllers found themselves no longer in the presence of the khedive and of ministers freely appointed by him, but of a chamber and an army. it added that the chamber, under the influence of certain military chiefs, did not hesitate to claim rights incompatible with the social condition of the country; it had gone so far as to compel the khedive to change the ministry which had his confidence, and, under pressure of certain officers, to impose on him the late minister of war as prime minister, and concluded with the significant words: "the khedive's power no longer exists." after this it is not surprising that the controllers resigned office. sir auckland colvin was requested by the british government to remain at his post and maintain "an attitude of passive observation." his french colleague was replaced by m. brédif. there is no doubt that the controllers' view of the situation was only too just. with arabi as minister of war, and his co-conspirator, mahmoud sami, president of the council the country was simply under a military dictatorship. meanwhile, the reserves of the artillery were called in and distributed amongst the coast fortifications, recruiting in the provinces was being actively carried on, ninety krupp guns were ordered from europe, and arabi was created a pasha by the sultan. the national party had now become complete masters of the situation. notwithstanding this, a collision might for some little time have been averted but for an incident which occurred shortly after. the differences between the circassians and the native-born egyptians in the army have been already touched upon. one peculiarity of the arab race is a revengeful disposition. arabi and his friends had, as already stated, met with rough usage at the hands of the circassian party. hence it followed that the first idea of the former on getting into power was to avenge themselves on their old enemies. this was carried out by the wholesale arrest of fifty circassian officers, and of osman pasha rifki, former minister of war, on a charge of conspiracy to assassinate arabi. it was also alleged that the plot comprised the deposition of the khedive and the restoration of ismail pasha. the prisoners were tried in secret by a court martial appointed by the military leaders, and, of course, found guilty. they were, it is said, subjected to torture to induce them to confess, and persons of respectability testified that they heard at night shrieks of pain coming from the place where the prisoners were confined. the sentence passed on forty of them, including osman, was that of exile for life to the remotest limits of the soudan. this was equivalent to a sentence of death as regards most of the prisoners. it was necessary that the sentences should be confirmed by decree of the khedive, and he consulted sir edward malet as to the course to be taken. the story of the plot was, there is reason to believe, purely imaginary. with some little hesitation, and after conferring with the diplomatic agents of the powers, the khedive boldly determined to exercise his prerogative without reference to his ministers, and signed a decree commuting the sentences to simple banishment from egypt, without loss of rank and honours. this was a defiance of mahmoud sami, to which he was not disposed to submit. on the th may, the khedive summoned the consuls-general, and informed them that the president of the council had insisted that this decree should be changed by condemning the prisoners to be struck off the strength of the army, and had threatened that his refusal would be followed by a general massacre of foreigners. the significance of this threat coming from mahmoud sami, the minister who was in power when just a month later--namely, on the th june--a massacre of foreigners _did_ take place in alexandria, will probably be remarked. the chamber of notables had ceased to sit on the th march, when the session closed; but mahmoud sami now announced that since the khedive and his ministers could not agree, and as it was impossible for the ministry to resign, they had determined themselves to convoke the chamber, and to lay the case before it, and that he did not intend to hold any further communication with the khedive until the difference between them had been decided by the chamber. he added that in the meantime the ministry would answer for the public safety. the alarm in cairo now began to be general. it was open warfare between the khedive, and his ministry supported by the army. the national party made no secret of their intention to depose the khedive as soon as the chamber assembled. the notables, when the day for assembly arrived, began to show a disinclination to support the national party. they had commenced to realize that they had already gone further than they had intended, and also that they were being merely used as tools by arabi and his colleagues. at first they refused to meet at all, on the ground that they had not been convoked by the khedive, but only by the ministry. they were, however, induced to assemble, and on the th may they met at the house of sultan pasha, the president of the chamber. here mahmoud sami read an indictment against the khedive, charging him principally with not governing through his ministers, and with compromising the liberties of egypt. on the th the ministers were so little sure of the support of the notables, that mahmoud sami and arabi went to the palace, and, in the names of themselves and their colleagues, offered to resign if the khedive would guarantee public order. his highness answered, that such a condition was a most unusual one, and that it would be the business of the ministry to see that public order was not troubled; he added that the only persons likely to cause trouble were arabi and his associates. on the th, the english and french consuls-general gave notice to arabi that if there was a disturbance of public order, he would find europe and turkey, as well as england and france, against him, but that if, on the other hand, he remained loyal to the khedive, his acts and person would be favourably regarded. arabi, in reply, stated that he would guarantee order only as long as he remained minister, except that in the event of a fleet arriving he could not answer for the public safety. the same day the two consuls-general announced to the khedive that an anglo-french fleet was hourly expected at alexandria. this was followed by the ministers going in a body to the palace and making a complete submission to the khedive. a reconciliation of the khedive with his ministers was accepted by the former only on the earnest representations of the notables and the consuls-general, in order that tranquillity might not be disturbed, the idea was to keep the ministry in office as a temporary measure, in order that there might be some one to treat with when the fleets should arrive. notwithstanding the improved aspect of affairs, the alarm in cairo continued, and crowds of people daily left the city. to allay the panic, mahmoud sami and arabi declared that they would guarantee the preservation of order on the arrival of the fleets. on the th and th of may the much-talked-of "fleets" arrived at alexandria. they consisted only of the british ironclad _invincible_ with two gunboats, and the french ironclad _la gallisonière_, also accompanied by two gun-vessels. the remainder of the allied squadron was left at suda bay, in the island of crete. the despatch of the english and french ships to alexandria by two powers, each professing to be "disinclined to armed intervention in egypt," was so important a step that it may be interesting to go back a little to consider the means by which it was brought about. lord granville, immediately after the abdin demonstration of the th september, had intimated to the french government as his idea of a remedy for the military insubordination prevailing the sending of a turkish general to egypt. m. barthélemy st. hilaire, minister for foreign affairs, objected that this might lead to further steps, and possibly to the permanent occupation of the country by turkish troops. the french minister expressed himself in favour of a "joint military control," consisting of an english and a french general, to restore discipline in the egyptian army. nothing was done to carry out either suggestion. in march, , when the struggle between the khedive and the chamber was at its height, lord granville suggested that england and france should send two "technical advisers" to assist the representatives of the two powers in settling the details of the financial matters then pending. the proposal was so ludicrously absurd under existing circumstances, that it says much for the politeness of the french minister that he took the trouble to give a serious reply. he objected that the measure would give offence to the other powers, as an attempt on the part of england and france to effect a separate settlement of egyptian affairs, and also that it would tend to lower the consuls-general in their own eyes and in those of the egyptians. again baffled, lord granville, in april, , could think of nothing better than that the sultan should be asked "to send a general with full powers to restore discipline in the egyptian army, with the understanding that he was not to exercise those powers in any way without the concurrence of an english and a french general, who would be associated with him." this proposal also fell through, the french government objecting that the sending of a turkish general at all would tend sooner or later to the sending of turkish troops, which was not desirable. the despatch of a turkish commissioner of some kind continued to be talked about, when, on the th may, , sir edward malet wrote to the foreign office that the khedive's ministers would certainly resist by force the arrival of any commissioner from turkey. after this, lord granville was for a time forced to abandon his favourite hobby of turkish intervention. sir edward malet's despatch contained the following significant passage:-- "i believe that some complication of an acute nature must supervene before any satisfactory solution of the egyptian question can be attained, and that it would be wiser to hasten it than to endeavour to retard it, because the longer misgovernment lasts the more difficult it is to remedy the evils which it has caused." this very sensible opinion had its effect, for, on the th may, lord granville was so far able to make up his mind as to say that the english government were willing to send two ironclads to alexandria to protect european residents. this announcement, however, was only made after the idea had been suggested by the french minister. even at this period, lord granville could not help referring regretfully to his original idea of sending the three generals (an expedient about as hopeful as sending three flower-pots with water to extinguish a fire), and in reply to m. de freycinet, his lordship said that he could still think of nothing better. the french government, in agreeing to the despatch of the anglo-french fleet, appeared resolved to abandon the cautious attitude which it had assumed on m. de freycinet taking office. the french premier, on the th may, informed the chamber of deputies that in its egyptian policy the ministry had two objects, first, to preserve "the preponderating influence of france in egypt"; and, second, to maintain the independence of egypt, as established by the firmans; and added that the means which would be employed to carry out this policy would be an intimate alliance with england. m. de freycinet, on the th may, informed her majesty's ambassador in paris, that as the khedive had been acting under the advice of england and france, the french government considered it the bounden duty of the two powers to support his highness _as far as circumstances would allow_, and that france would co-operate loyally and without _arrière pensée_ with england in that sense. m. de freycinet, with some sense of humour, added that sending the three generals would be inopportune. on the th the english government notified their concurrence in the views of france with regard to the khedive, and welcomed the co-operation of the french government. lord granville, at the same time, expressed the readiness of himself and his colleagues to defer to the objections raised to the mission of the three generals. it now became known that the notables were assembling in cairo, and that the ministry of mahmoud sami was about to propose the deposition of the khedive. it was also reported that mahmoud sami proposed to declare himself "governor-general of egypt by the national will." these alarming reports caused the preparations for the departure of the ships to be hastened, and, at the same time, with a view to keep the ground clear, the two western powers sent an intimation to the porte desiring it to abstain for the moment from all intervention in egypt. the instructions to the british admiral were as follows:-- "communicate with the british consul-general on arrival at alexandria, and in concert with him propose to co-operate with naval forces of france to support the khedive and protect british subjects and europeans, _landing a force, if required_, for latter object, such force not to leave protection of ships' guns without instructions from home." the french admiral's instructions were somewhat different, and tend to show that the two powers were not completely agreed as to the means to be employed to support tewfik. his instructions were in these words:-- "on arrival at alexandria communicate with the consul-general, who will, if necessary, indicate to you what you will have to do to give a _moral_ support to the khedive. you will abstain, until you have contrary instructions, from any material act of war, unless you are attacked or have to protect the safety of europeans." the british and french consuls-general, on the arrival of the fleets, advised the khedive to take advantage of the favourable opportunity to dismiss the existing ministry, and to form a new cabinet under cherif pasha, or any other person inspiring confidence. negotiations were simultaneously opened with arabi in order to induce him, with the other rebel leaders, to retire from the country, in return for which they were to be guaranteed their property, rank, and pay. none of these plans succeeded. the khedive recognized the futility of dismissing a ministry that insisted on remaining in power. mahmoud sami replied that the ministry would not retire so long as the squadrons were kept at alexandria, and arabi declared that he must refuse either to retire from his position, or to leave the country. on the th may, the representatives of england and france handed to mahmoud sami, as president of the council of ministers, an ultimatum in the form of a dual note, demanding the retirement of arabi from the country, the withdrawal of "the colonels" into the interior, and the resignation of sami's ministry. the note added that the two governments would, if necessary, insist on the fulfilment of these conditions. the ministers, on receipt of the "dual note," waited on the khedive to ask his opinion as to the answer that should be given, and his highness distinctly told them that he accepted its conditions. they urged a reference to the porte, on which the khedive told them that it was an internal question, and that it was strange that they, who had complained that he had failed to uphold the privileges of egypt, should suggest such a course. on the th the ministers resigned, alleging as a reason that the khedive, in accepting the conditions of england and france, had acquiesced in foreign interference in egypt. the khedive promptly accepted the resignation of the ministry, and sent for cherif pasha to form a new cabinet. cherif refused on the ground that no government was possible while the military chiefs remained. on the th an event occurred in alexandria which tended to bring matters still more to a crisis. the officers of the regiments and the police force in that city held a secret meeting, and telegraphed to the khedive direct that they would not accept the resignation of arabi, and gave the khedive twelve hours to reply, after which the officers declared that they would not be responsible for public tranquillity. on receipt of this message, the khedive summoned to his presence the chief personages of state, the principal members of the chamber, and the head officers of the cairo garrison, and placed the situation before them. toulba pasha, one of arabi's strongest supporters, interrupted the khedive in his speech, and stated that the army absolutely rejected the dual note, and awaited the decision of the porte, which was the only authority they recognized. on the same day arabi, at the head of a hundred officers, met the chief persons of cairo and the notables, and demanded the deposition of the khedive, threatening death to the recalcitrant. nevertheless almost all present, excepting the officers, persisted in supporting their sovereign. arabi and the officers demanded of the khedive a decree reinstating arabi as minister of war. amongst those present, sultan pasha and some of the notables warned the khedive of what had taken place, and told him his life was not safe unless he reinstated arabi. the khedive consulted the english and french consuls-general, who advised him not to comply. in the afternoon of the same day, a deputation consisting of the coptic patriarch, the chief rabbi, the notables, and others, waited on the khedive, begging him to reinstate arabi, adding, that though he might be ready to sacrifice his own life, he ought not to sacrifice theirs, and that arabi had threatened them all with death if they did not obtain the khedive's assent to his reappointment. in his perplexity, the khedive, in order to prevent bloodshed, yielded, and issued a memorandum stating that at the repeated requests of the population, and with the desire of maintaining order and the tranquillity of the country, he reinstated arabi. although one may be disposed to blame tewfik for his conduct on this occasion, it must be owned that his position at the moment was a critical one. the despatch of the fleets on which he had been led to rely had turned out a ridiculous fiasco. instead of ten vessels, there were only two accompanied by four gunboats, and no troops for landing. the lamentable weakness of the demonstration only excited the ridicule of the military party. it was beyond doubt that the guard at the palace had been doubled, and that orders had been given to the sentries not to allow tewfik to leave the palace unless the deputation received a favourable reply, and to fire on him if he insisted on going out. all the outlets of the palace were carefully watched, and a mob was collected for the purpose of rushing into the palace and ill-treating him, if the prayer of the deputation were refused. it was also announced that there was to be a military demonstration at five in the afternoon, and that it was the intention of the army to depose the khedive. under these circumstances, and seeing how little material aid he had from england and france, it is not surprising that he yielded. one of the first acts of arabi on resuming office was to publish a declaration that now he had been reinstated, he guaranteed the security of the life and property of all the inhabitants of egypt irrespective of nationality or religion. this assurance was not made before it was required. for several days past a feeling of uneasiness had prevailed, especially in alexandria; when the military and police in that city made their demand for arabi's reinstatement, mr. cookson, the british consul, asked the governor, omar pasha loutfi, if he could answer for the safety of europeans. he replied that he had exhausted every effort to calm the officers and soldiers, but had entirely failed, and that he could not answer for their conduct, although he saw no reason to apprehend any disturbance. in the prevailing state of things, the consul thought it his duty to confer with admiral seymour as to the best means of protecting british subjects in case of a general attack upon europeans, and was informed that the admiral was not prepared to land any force, although he would protect the embarkation of women and children and others who might seek refuge on board ships in the harbour. the admiral sent an officer with the consul, and a spot for embarkation was selected. this arrangement was communicated to the british residents at a meeting held at the consulate the same day (the th). the european population now became seriously alarmed, and on the th a memorial was drawn up by the british residents, calling upon her majesty's government to provide efficient means for the protection of their lives. it pointed out that-- "during the twenty-four hours, from the th to the th, alexandria was in continual danger of being stormed by the soldiery, who, it was reported, actually had cartridges served out to them to be used against europeans." "there was," it said, "every reason to believe that the perils which had come without warning would recur again, and against them," it continued, "europeans were absolutely defenceless. they had not even the means of flight, as in order to reach the ships in harbour they would have to run the gauntlet through the streets. the small squadron in port could only silence the forts, and when these forts were disabled, then would commence a period of great danger for europeans, who would be at the mercy of soldiers exasperated by defeat, whilst the english admiral could not risk his men ashore, as his whole available force for those operations did not exceed men." the memorial concluded by stating that "every day's delay increased the dangerous temper of the soldiery and their growing defiance of discipline." mr. cookson at once telegraphed the contents of the memorial to the foreign office, where it was carefully placed amongst the archives. the history of events has now been brought down to the th may, on which date admiral seymour reported that the egyptians were raising earthworks opposite his flagship, the _invincible_, then lying in the inner harbour at alexandria, and suggested that his squadron should be strengthened by the despatch of three of the ships of war which had been left at suda bay. in a later telegram he added that when the earthworks were armed, the position of the unarmoured vessels of his squadron would be untenable, if fired on without warning. in reply, the admiral was directed to arrange with the french admiral to dispose the ironclads so as to silence the batteries if they opened fire. on the th may, the british ironclad _monarch_, and two gun-vessels, the _cygnet_ and the _coquette_, as well as three french vessels of war--the _alma_, the _thétis_ and the _hirondelle_--were ordered from suda bay to alexandria, where they arrived between the nd and th june. the rest of the british squadron in suda bay were directed to cruise off the coast of egypt, and to communicate with alexandria for orders from time to time. arabi, on being applied to on the subject of the earthworks, answered that repairs only were being effected, and refused to order them to be discontinued. it was useless to remonstrate with the khedive, whose orders that all warlike preparations should be stopped had already been disregarded. the sultan was therefore appealed to, and he sent an order to arabi to desist from further armament. arabi gave the necessary instructions, and the new works, on which two guns were already mounted, were discontinued. the khedive, on his part, applied to the sultan, and requested that an imperial commissioner should be sent to egypt. on the rd june it was known that dervish pasha, a marshal of the ottoman empire, had left constantinople for alexandria as special envoy from the sultan, and his arrival was awaited with anxiety by both the khedive and the arabists. the following observations, taken from one of the highest authorities on egyptian matters,[ ] throw a light on dervish pasha's mission. "the sultan's aim naturally was not to reinforce, but to counteract anglo-french influence in egypt. by accepting his intervention england and france confessed themselves worsted, and opened the door for a host of intrigues. his majesty was not slow to take advantage of the opportunity and tried to play a complicated double game. dervish pasha, the first commissioner, was instructed to support the khedive, and if possible intimidate the leaders of the military party, while ahmet essad, the second commissioner, was instructed to conciliate arabi and his friends, and assure them that they had in the sultan a sure friend and ally. the third commissioner's duty was to act as a spy on his two colleagues, and he in his turn was closely watched by a secretary, who sent secret reports direct to constantinople." on dervish's arrival in cairo, on the th of june, he was greeted by the acclamations of a mob of the lowest class of natives, who shouted before his carriage the praises of arabi, and denounced the christians. "dervish was known before his arrival to be accessible to egyptian arguments, and there can be no doubt that they were boldly asked for and liberally given. upon his arrival he showed marked favour to the arabi party. then he had a long interview with the khedive, and then his conduct suddenly became very satisfactory to the palace. mahmoud sami had arranged that the petitions from all the provinces should be brought to the commissioner by deputation. dervish received them graciously, placed the petitions in a pile on the divan, begged the deputation to consider all grievances settled by his arrival, and dismissed them. the ministers came next. mahmoud sami entered with effusion, and introduced his colleagues. dervish remained seated, continued his conversation with his secretary, and then made a casual remark to sami on the beautiful situation of the palace of ghezireh. the ministers looked dumfounded, but dervish, continuing his conversation, begged his secretary to repeat to him the story of the massacre of the mamelukes by mehemet ali at the citadel,[ ] which he could see from the window where he sat. when the suggestive story was completed, the envoy, with one of his pleasantest smiles, remarked to arabi, 'the one man who escaped was a lucky dog,' and with a remark on the weather dismissed them."[ ] after this slap in the face the ministers left, feeling that there was no alternative between complete submission to the khedive and absolute defiance of the sultan. before two days elapsed, events occurred at alexandria which demonstrated that arabi was the only power in egypt, and brought dervish to his feet as a suppliant. what those events were, will be recorded in the next chapter. chapter vii. the riots at alexandria. for some days previous to sunday, the th june, , the demeanour of the natives towards the european population of alexandria had been growing more and more unfriendly; and there were many indications that some disturbance, the precise nature of which no one was able to discover, was impending. the forenoon of the th passed off quietly enough and without any unaccustomed incident, and the european population attended the churches and places of worship as usual. between two and three in the afternoon the tranquillity of the town was disturbed by shouts and yells from some two thousand natives, who were suddenly seen swarming up the rue des soeurs, the rue mahmoudieh, and the adjacent streets, crying, "death to the christians!" others came soon after from the attarin and the ras-el-tin quarters; and the riot, which appears to have broken out in three places almost at the same time, became general. the crowd rushed on, striking with their "naboots" all the europeans whom they could meet, knocking them down and trampling them under foot. shots were fired; the soldiers and police interfered; but, in most instances, only with the object of making the butchery more complete. many europeans, flying for refuge to the police stations, were there slaughtered in cold blood. shops and houses were broken into and pillaged, and for four and a half hours, until the soldiers arrived on the scene, the usually quiet and prosperous city of alexandria experienced a fair share of the horrors of war. the signal for the massacre was a feigned arab funeral procession, in which natives marched wearing green turbans, and which passed between a.m. and noon through the main streets of alexandria.[ ] the next thing which occurred was a disturbance which broke out about p.m. between europeans and natives in the neighbourhood of a coffee-house called the "café crystal," in the rue des soeurs. of the precise origin of the riot it is difficult to speak with certainty. it has been stated that it originated in a dispute between a maltese and a native coachman or donkey-boy, in which the maltese, being beaten with a stick, retaliated with his knife, and, according to one account, killed his adversary. another version is that two natives attempted to break into the shop of a maltese with whom they had previously quarrelled, and were violently resisted by the owner. both accounts are involved in doubt, and the better opinion is that whatever may have been the origin of the alleged quarrel, it was only a pretext for what was to ensue. anyhow, about the time last mentioned, mr. cookson, the british consul, was summoned by the local police to assist in quelling a disturbance between maltese and natives in the quarter of the caracol labban, a police-station in the rue des soeurs. he found there the governor and sub-prefect of police, and, after waiting more than an hour, under the impression that they had succeeded in calming the excitement, mr. cookson returned to the consulate. this was not, however, until he had been struck by one of the stones which were flying about. about p.m. he found a messenger, purporting to come from the governor, to summon him with all the other consuls to a meeting at the same caracol as before. there is good reason to believe that no such request was ever made by omar pasha loutfi, and that the messages sent were part of a preconceived scheme to decoy the consuls into the streets, where they would be in the power of the mob. it is a singular thing that there were considerable intervals of time between the delivery of the messages, not warranted by the positions of the different consulates, as if the intention was for the consuls to arrive separately. mr. cookson, accompanied only by a janissary in uniform, drove immediately towards the caracol. he found marks of recent conflict in the streets and groups of excited natives moving about. on approaching within about ninety yards of the caracol, at a place where four roads met, he was first assailed with stones and then felled to the ground with a blow from a "naboot." when the consul recovered consciousness, he was lying in the street surrounded by a crowd, one or two members of which, including a native officer, were trying to protect him, whilst others were striking at him. fortunately he was able to escape with his life to the caracol, where he remained till about p.m., when he was brought by a circuitous route to the consulate.[ ] it has been stated that the inaction of the police at the different caracols was due to the fact that the day previous all the officers and sub-officers in charge had been convoked, and told that the men were to remain at their posts under any circumstances, without interfering even in the event of an outbreak happening. almost at the same time and place, the other members of the consular body, as they arrived on the scene, were similarly attacked. all this time the governor was at the door of the caracol, giving orders to the mustaphazin (military police) to disperse the mob, though his orders were never executed. in fact, the mustaphazin were quite beyond his control, and at times openly cursed and reviled him when he tried to interfere on behalf of the europeans. whilst the fighting went on, the arabs, the police, and the soldiers occupied their time in breaking open and plundering the shops and houses on the line of route, tearing down doors and shutters, and using the materials as well as the legs of tables and chairs as weapons of offence. the rioting gradually extended up the rue des soeurs, towards the place mehemet ali (the great square), the europeans here and there firing at times from the terraces and balconies of the houses, and the soldiers and the mob replying with firearms and stones. at an early period of the fray, one of the mustaphazin was killed by a shot from a house, and his body being taken to an adjoining caracol, his comrades became so exasperated, that they butchered every european who sought refuge there. in the streets, the conduct of the mustaphazin was almost equally bad. when they did interfere, they did so in a half-hearted, indifferent manner. in the great majority of cases, where they did not join in the killing themselves, they encouraged their countrymen to do so. there is reason to believe that the mustaphazin did a large proportion of the killing, as they were armed with sword-bayonets. the natives, on the other hand, had in most cases only heavy sticks, with which they stunned and bruised their victims. a considerable number of bedouins were observed amongst the mob, which emerged from the rue des soeurs by the side streets leading into the adjoining quarters. the bedouins were armed with their long guns, with which they shot down passing europeans. one of a group of bedouins, stationed opposite the european hospital to intercept the fugitives, was seen to shoot a man who was running past, and crouching down, in the hope of escaping observation. about p.m. a second mob came down from a different part of the town known as the attarin quarter, and similar fighting went on, the natives attacking every european who came in their path. amongst other victims was a little boy five years old, apparently a maltese, who was killed with a naboot in front of the austrian post office. at half-past five, the portion of the rue des soeurs where the disturbance began was almost deserted, the ground being strewn with _débris_ of wood and glass, and the windows shattered, many of them by bullets. further up, and opposite the lazarist college, in the same street, but nearer the place mehemet ali, the crowd from the attarin quarter mingled with the other mob were continuing the work of destruction. they hunted down every european they saw; one they fell upon and killed with sticks and pieces of wood at the very door of the college itself. all this while the mustaphazin, some thirty or forty in number, in front of the college, were observed firing off their rifles without any apparent motive. the street at this part was now filled with rioters. a number of europeans found refuge at the college, the doors of which were bolted and barred by the inmates. from the terrace above these were able to look down on the work of destruction. about . a european in black clothes, and apparently of good social position, covered with blood and with his trousers torn to rags, was seen running backwards and forwards, as if distracted. just as he reached the corner of the rue des soeurs, a point guarded by two mustaphazin, a band of natives armed with sticks emerged from the street, rushed at once on him and beat him on the head. the two mustaphazin not only did not prevent the arabs from ill-treating their victim, but, on the contrary, were seen to seize the wretched man by the arm, and laughing, thrust him into the midst of the band which was assailing him. whether he subsequently escaped or not is unknown. one of these mustaphazin being remonstrated with, candidly replied, "we are ordered to do it." in one spot in the rue des soeurs the bodies of three europeans were found lying in a heap. one had a bullet-hole in the head, another was stabbed through the chest, and another with his skull fractured was lying on his face with his shoes and stockings stripped off. the mob now turned their attention to indiscriminate pillage. the shops in the square itself were broken into and the kiosks wrecked. next, crowds of looters were observed going back in the direction of gabari, laden with goods from the neighbouring shops. these the mustaphazin allowed to pass without opposition; indeed, several of their own number were themselves carrying the stolen goods. soldiers were seen to take from europeans, whose lives they spared, their watches and such valuables as they had about them. in the strada nuova both police and soldiers were observed encouraging the mob to break open shops, and each time this was done the police and soldiers entered first, and had the first choice. in another quarter two native policemen were observed attacking even a native, who was carrying gold articles and a quantity of money, when a mounted soldier appeared on the scene, and he and the policemen shared the plunder between them, leaving the thief to go empty away. in their selection of objects of plunder the mob were far from particular. one soldier was seen walking down the street with a glass chandelier on his head. another was seen riding down the street on a toy horse. the tobacco shops suffered more severely than any others; wherever one of these was seen, it was invariably broken into and the contents distributed among the crowd. wearing apparel, also, was in great request, and one of the native officers was observed sitting on the pavement exchanging the trousers he was wearing for a new pair stolen from a neighbouring shop. in the few cases where a native had not succeeded in obtaining any plunder for himself, he invariably turned to one of his more fortunate comrades and helped himself to his stock. one man who was carrying off some dozens of slippers was stopped by no less than three of his fellow-countrymen, who made him wait whilst they selected those which fitted them best. whilst this was occurring similar scenes of violence were being perpetrated in another part of the town, namely, in the streets leading from the place mehemet ali to the marina and to ras-el-tin. on that sunday a considerable number of europeans had been to visit the ships in the harbour. on their return, between and p.m., they found the marina street, frank street, and the adjoining thoroughfares in the possession of a mob armed with naboots. what happened may be learned from the case of an english missionary, mr. h. p. ribton, one of the victims. ribton, accompanied by his little daughter and two friends, was amongst those who had been afloat in the afternoon. on landing from the ships they found the city gate, leading from the marina into the town, closed; but they were allowed to pass through by a door in the police-office. the shops were shut, and the streets were filled with soldiers. ribton and party were in the rear of some other europeans who had landed with them. suddenly the police called out in arabic, "quick! quick!" and all the europeans commenced running. in a moment or two those in front wheeled round, crying that the mob were coming. mr. ribton and his friends turned at the same time, but the police with fixed bayonets drove them back, and in an instant they found themselves face to face with the mob, who had already overwhelmed the europeans in front. the mob consisted of the lowest class of arabs in the city; they were armed, like the rest, with clubs, with which they beat their victims to death. as soon as the latter fell the arabs dragged them out to the back streets, stripped their bodies and flung them into the sea. the missionary and his two male companions in vain attempted to shield his daughter from the blows. though ribton himself was twice felled to the ground he again staggered to his feet, attempting to save his daughter. the third time he fell he rose no more, and when afterwards his body was found his head was so battered as to be unrecognizable.[ ] ribton's two friends were killed by his side. his daughter was seized by a native soldier, who, throwing her across his shoulders, carried her off to the arab quarter. here she was rescued by a friendly sheikh, who had heard her screams, and who kept her in his house till nightfall, when he sent her home disguised in native clothes. some of the most atrocious acts of violence were perpetrated in immediate proximity to the zaptieh, where is situated the prefecture of police. here soldiers and mob, mixed together, pursued the europeans who were passing on their way to the marina in the hope of escaping to the ships. whenever a european appeared in sight the mob cried out in arabic, "oh, moslems! kill him! kill the christian!" the master of a greek merchant ship was forced by the police to descend from his carriage, and bayoneted on the spot. a french subject, who was being pursued by the mob, applied to a soldier for protection. the latter responded by taking deliberate aim at him with his rifle and bringing him to the ground. a mustaphazin was seen holding a young man from behind, whilst a soldier shot him dead; his body was then maltreated and thrown into the sea. a man on guard at the zaptieh, or chief police office, was seen to shoot down a european who was running away from the mob, who speedily battered him to death. some officers of h.m.s. _superb_, lieutenants saule and dyrssen, dr. joyce and mr. pibworth, engineer, about p.m., seeing the mob rushing towards them, attempted to obtain shelter at the caracol midan. the man on duty refused to admit them. they then ran to the danish consulate close by, where they were offered an asylum by the consul. as their ship was going to sea at p.m., the officers were unwilling to stop, and, taking advantage of a carriage which had been secured, they proceeded towards the marina by frank street. when about half-way down they found themselves in the centre of the mob, who, howling and shouting, seized the horses' heads and commenced striking the officers with their sticks; several brandished knives, and one of them stabbed mr. pibworth, wounding him mortally, and attempted to stab the others. they then jumped from the carriage and managed to run through the crowd, receiving several blows in doing so. mr. pibworth was removed to the police station, where he died half-an-hour afterwards. a fireman of the s.s. _tanjore_, who was in a carriage with five of his companions, also on his way to the harbour, was stopped about p.m. by the mob in the open piece of ground near the zaptieh, and ordered to alight. they were then surrounded and beaten by the natives, some of the party receiving wounds from the swords of the mustaphazin drawn up there. the party tried their best to escape, but the fireman was dragged by the arm into the zaptieh. two minutes later he saw one of his companions brought in by a soldier. almost at the same moment the guard on duty at the gate drew his sword and struck the man twice, splitting his skull with the first stroke, and severing his head from his body with the second. the fireman was detained for three hours, and, according to his statement, all who were brought in during that time were slaughtered. witnesses living near the zaptieh spoke of the cries and groans which came from the building at this period, and another witness has stated that from a window opposite he counted no less than thirteen bodies of europeans being dragged out and taken down a side street towards the sea.[ ] the rioting in the rue des soeurs, near the caracol, was at its height at . p.m., and that in frank street about . or , when the two mobs of rioters marched on until they united in the great square or place mehemet ali. the brutality of the mob extended even to the arab children. one of them was seen to go up to the dead body of a european and fire off a toy-gun at his head, and the shoe-blacking boys in the place mehemet ali were observed to beat out the brains of the wounded who lay groaning on the pavement. whilst this was going on, the troops, to the number of about , , remained at the different barracks under arms, waiting instructions to act. the governor, about four in the afternoon, had asked the military commandant of the town to place at his disposal a battalion of the regiment at ras-el-tin; but the messenger returned, saying the colonel required an order in writing before he could move. the governor then sent the written order demanded, and also despatched an order to the colonel of the regiment at rosetta gate to send a battalion of his troops into the town without delay. he also, to prevent the disorder spreading to the place mehemet ali and the place de l'eglise, ordered a company of mustaphazin to each of those places. the mustaphazin, this time, obeyed, but the soldiers still remained drawn up at the barracks. in spite of the governor's request, they refused to march without an order from the minister of war. much valuable time was thus wasted. now came arabi's opportunity. arabi, it will be remembered, had, a few days before, been treated by dervish pasha as an ignoble rebel against the sultan, and made to feel his inferiority. when the news of the riot was telegraphed to cairo the great envoy himself was sent to fetch arabi, and had, almost on his knees, to beg him to intervene. arabi consented, and the desired despatch was sent by telegraph from cairo, and a little after p.m. the soldiers began to march. as they advanced, the mob gradually fell back, and then dispersed as if by magic; and the tramping, shouting, and yelling suddenly ceased, and there was silence in the streets save for the groans of the wounded. the behaviour of the troops was strictly in accordance with discipline. they had their orders to put an end to the disturbance, and they did so. one of them being asked if the massacre was finished, naively replied, "yes; the order has come to cease striking." in the course of the afternoon, hundreds of europeans rushed for protection to the different consulates, where they remained with the gates closed and guarded. every moment increased the number of fugitives. the british consulate was literally crammed with officers, civilians, ladies and children. telephonic communication was open with admiral seymour on board the _helicon_. the admiral had himself been on shore that afternoon, and narrowly escaped the rioters. his movements at this critical moment were marked by great indecision. his first idea appears to have been to land an armed force for the protection of the europeans, for at . p.m. the _helicon_ made the general signal to the fleet, "prepare to land armed boats." this order, however, was annulled five minutes later. the captains of the english men-of-war were then signalled to assemble on board the flag-ship, when, after consultation, it was decided, as the only course open, to send boats round to the eastern harbour under cover of the guns of h.m.s. _superb_, to be in readiness to embark those who had taken refuge in the consulate; and boats were sent to the arsenal and other landing-places to bring off the officers who remained on shore. it had been arranged that the _superb_ was to take up a position off the eastern harbour, near the european quarter, and to have a force of seamen and marines ready for immediate service on shore, sending her boats as near as possible to the beach, with a view to the removal from the town of all the women and children whom they might be able to find. the landing party, to be used only in case of need, was, on a signal being made, to clear the streets leading to the english consulate. between and p.m. the governor, to whom the arrangements were communicated, begged that the boats might not be sent, as their appearance would, in his opinion, excite the troops beyond control. he also stated that the disturbance had now been suppressed, and that he could guarantee the safety of everybody. under these circumstances, it was decided that the instructions to the _superb_ should be countermanded. this, however, appears not to have been communicated to that vessel. the night passed off badly enough at the consulate, which was crowded with terrified fugitives. there were, however, no serious alarms until about . , when an event happened which might have brought about a catastrophe. one of the _superb's_ armed boats, mistaking a bright light on the shore for the signal arranged in the event of the boats being required to land, answered the supposed signal with a blue light, and thus disclosed her position near the shore, hitherto concealed by the darkness. in an instant the bugles sounded the alarm, there was a call to arms all over the town, and a rush made by the troops towards the beach, showing that the governor's fears were well founded, and that had the boats touched the shore, the troops, already much excited, would have been quite beyond the control of their officers. there was not a moment to be lost. a peremptory order was sent from the consulate to the officer in charge of the boats to withdraw out of sight, and the soldiers, seeing no signs of a landing, retired to their posts. the rest of the night passed quietly and without incident. the population mostly remained indoors, and detachments of soldiers with fixed bayonets guarded the various consulates and stationed themselves at the corners of all the principal streets. but for these circumstances, and for the broken _débris_ from the wrecked shops and houses, there was little to indicate that anything unusual had taken place. there are no means of arriving accurately at the numbers killed on the th june, but they have been estimated, by competent persons, at one hundred and fifty europeans, besides natives.[ ] many of the latter are known to have been carried off to the houses at nightfall and then secretly buried. the european doctors who visited the hospitals on the following day found forty-nine bodies--forty-four of which were europeans. thirty-seven were so battered as to be unrecognizable. seventy-one persons were also found wounded; of these, thirty-six were europeans, two turks, and thirty-three natives. of those killed or wounded, some had received stabs on their bodies, but the majority had their injuries inflicted by naboots. one witness speaks to having seen several cartloads of bodies thrown, at night, into the sea near the western harbour, and it is quite possible that many were so disposed of. in a fluctuating population, such as that of alexandria, it is obvious that many persons might disappear and never be inquired for. the governor, on the th, visited the sacked and looted quarters of the town, and took note of the houses injured. he also arrested and imprisoned between two and three hundred natives who had taken part in the riot of the previous day. on the same day, the women and children, who had taken refuge at the british consulate, embarked under an escort provided by the governor. thousands of other europeans of all nationalities also went afloat, and during the whole day the streets were blocked with fugitives. at first these were cursed and spat upon by the natives as they passed, but later on they were allowed to go by unmolested. in cairo a meeting was held at which the khedive, dervish pasha, the ministers, and the consuls-general were present. this was to obtain a reply to a demand of the consular body that measures should be taken to insure the safety of europeans. arabi promptly undertook to stop all inflammatory preaching, and to obey all orders given him by the khedive. the khedive engaged himself to issue orders immediately with the object of restoring public tranquillity. dervish pasha, on his part, consented to accept joint responsibility with arabi for the execution of the orders of the khedive. it was then decided to increase the number of patrols and to reinforce the police stations by troops. yacoub pasha sami, under-secretary of war, was sent from cairo with two regiments of infantry and some artillery. guards with their arms were placed at the corners of the streets, and at night they lay down on the ground in the place mehemet ali and other open spaces. in the course of the day a proclamation was issued by the consular body to the europeans, pointing out that the disorder had been suppressed by the army, and that its chiefs guaranteed public tranquillity. it further called upon the european population to remain in their dwellings, and to abstain from carrying firearms. the effect of the proclamation in reassuring the inhabitants was simply nil, and many persons who might otherwise have remained on shore betook themselves to the ships. on the th the khedive and dervish pasha arrived from cairo. their reception was anything but enthusiastic. alexandria remained quiet, the streets being still patrolled by soldiers night and day. the general flight of europeans continued. the number seeking refuge on board the ironclads was so great that the ships would have been useless in the event of their having to act. three hundred were on board the _invincible_, the same number on board the _monarch_, and all the smaller men-of-war were similarly crowded. on the admiral's representation, merchant-steamers were chartered by the british government, and employed to take the refugees to malta; one of the poste-khedive steamers was, subsequently, taken up as a temporary refuge, and some hundreds of persons were placed on board. other steamers were thronged with passengers leaving for cyprus, constantinople, and other places; fabulous prices were charged the fugitives by the boatmen who took them off to the various vessels. a commission of inquiry was next instituted by the egyptian government, with a view to discover the authors of the events of the th june. the president of the commission, oddly enough, was omar pasha loutfi, governor of alexandria, the official who was responsible for the maintenance of order on the day in question, and who was therefore himself, to some extent, on his trial. the commission assembled, and evidence was taken from the wounded and others. an english barrister attended as the delegate of the british consulate. before the inquiry had proceeded far it developed into mutual recriminations, and a pretext was afforded to the egyptian government for bringing counter charges against europeans. eventually such determined opposition was raised by the egyptian members to the institution of a satisfactory inquiry that the british delegate had to be withdrawn, and the commission collapsed. on the th of june a new ministry under ragheb pasha, an old and infirm statesman, was formed. in this, as before, arabi figured as minister of war. the men forming the cabinet were not such, however, as to inspire confidence. many of them were pronounced arabists, and the rest were about fair specimens of the usual egyptian minister. arabi, who had come to alexandria at this time, now made a point of showing himself a good deal in public, driving out every evening, sometimes in the same carriage with the khedive, and always attended by a cavalry escort. on these occasions great crowds of natives assembled, and showed unmistakably the interest they took in the _de facto_ ruler of egypt. that arabi and the sultan were in accord at this time is unquestionable. but if any doubt existed it was removed by the fact that on the th june the sultan decorated with the grand cordon of the medjidieh the man who had plunged his country into anarchy. the order was presented by the khedive personally, who (arabi declares) expressed his satisfaction and gratitude for his faithful services and attention to duty. the attitude of tewfik, on this as on other occasions, appears at first sight inexplicable. it is only to be accounted for on the hypothesis that his highness, having just reason to doubt how far he could calculate on the sincerity of england and france, or on receiving help from them, was unwilling to cut himself altogether adrift from the national party. it is due to arabi to say that during the period which elapsed between the day of the massacre and the subsequent bombardment perfect order was maintained in alexandria. it was not so in the interior, however, and on the th june it was reported that ten greeks and three jews were massacred at benha, an important town in the delta. in other provincial towns, europeans were openly insulted by the natives, and soon began to join the fugitives to europe. at rosetta and damietta, things grew so threatening that even the european lighthouse-keepers had to be withdrawn, and their duties confided to natives. at alexandria, the british consul, disabled by the wounds which he received on the th june, had to leave for europe. the vice-consul, incapacitated by age, and suffering from the shock brought about by recent events, had also to depart. most of the consular clerks and employés likewise found it necessary to quit their posts, and sir edward malet, overtaken at a critical moment by severe illness, had to betake himself to europe. in this emergency, mr. cartwright was called upon to discharge the duties of consul-general, assisted by the knowledge and local experience of sir auckland colvin. on the th june, mr. cartwright wrote to lord granville as follows:-- "the exodus of europeans and the preparations for flight, after seeming temporarily to have abated, continue with increased vigour. the hotels are closing; the shipping agents have transferred their offices to the neighbourhood of the port; and the banks which still remain open are preparing to transfer their staff to the ships. it is impossible to describe the collapse and ruin which have overtaken the country.... a large number of respectable natives are leaving. the departure of turkish families is taking larger proportions, while destitute jews and rayahs have been sent away at the expense of the government itself." thrown out of employment by the exodus of europeans, the greatest distress prevailed, and it was estimated that nearly , persons were left destitute in alexandria alone. thus matters went on, until the measures taken by the government in adding to the armament of the forts led to actual hostilities. on the part of the europeans, a sort of stunned feeling prevailed; there was, with a few exceptions, absolute panic. on the side of the natives, there was a vague feeling of disquietude. they realized that they had irretrievably committed themselves, and imagined that the day of retribution was drawing nigh. ships of war continued to arrive from all parts, until a squadron of twenty-six vessels belonging to the navies of england, france, italy, austria, russia, the united states, spain, greece, and turkey, lay off alexandria. meanwhile, the crowd of fugitives continued to embark. the french and greek governments sent transports to remove their subjects _en masse_, and ships laden with british refugees left for malta as fast as the vessels could fill up. europeans arrived from cairo and the interior, and the trains were thronged with passengers, many of whom rode on the roofs and steps of the railway carriages. as many as , arrived on one day, the th. alexandria, at this period, presented a curious spectacle. beyond the business of transporting the fugitives, there was nothing else done. the shops were shut, and the doors barred and padlocked. the banks were occupied in putting up iron shutters, and blocking up their windows. the few business firms which remained hired steamers in the harbour and removed their books and effects on board, so as to be ready for any eventuality. the streets in the european quarter presented a deserted appearance, the arab soldiers being almost the only persons seen about. in cairo things were but little better, the whole of the foreign population had taken flight, together with most of the well-to-do natives.[ ] the events of the th june created a profound sensation in england. that a large number of unoffending europeans, living in a civilized or quasi-civilized country, should have been without provocation suddenly attacked and slaughtered, was bad enough. but that this should have occurred at a moment when eight british ships of war, and nine others belonging to other powers, were there, for the avowed purpose of protecting european life and property, was worse still. the opportunity was not lost upon the opposition. indignation meetings were held throughout the united kingdom, in which the conduct of mr. gladstone's administration was denounced in the strongest terms. lord salisbury, as the leader of the opposition in the house of lords, was particularly vehement in his condemnation of a policy which had resulted in british subjects being "butchered under the very guns of the fleet, which had never budged an inch to save them." on board the vessels of the british fleet, a similar feeling of indignation prevailed. when the bodies of the officer and seamen massacred were on the th june taken out to sea for burial, officers and men alike clamoured for revenge. it was felt that an insult had been offered to the british flag, which ought to be avenged. public feeling at home became fully aroused, and her majesty's government caused it to be intimated that it was their intention to demand reparation for the loss of life and property which had occurred. to strengthen the mediterranean fleet, the channel squadron, consisting of the _minotaur_, _achilles_, _agincourt_, _northumberland_ and _sultan_, was despatched to malta on the th, and placed under the temporary command of admiral seymour. more energetic measures still were in contemplation, but it was deemed unwise to decide upon them until the great body of europeans should have had time to clear out of egypt. chapter viii. the alexandria bombardment. on the st of july, , matters had become so threatening that the consular archives and such of the staff as remained were removed on board a peninsular and oriental steamer, chartered as a place of refuge for the british subjects whose duties compelled them to remain in egypt. the same day admiral seymour telegraphed that there were upwards of , men in the forts and barracks of alexandria, and that arabi hoped to get the allied fleets into a trap by sinking stone barges at the harbour mouth. on the rd, seymour received the following instructions:-- "prevent any attempt to bar channel into port. if work is resumed on earthworks or fresh guns mounted, inform military commander that you have orders to prevent it; and if not immediately discontinued destroy earthworks and silence batteries if they open fire." on the th, dervish pasha made a final attempt to get rid of arabi and his party by diplomacy. the turkish envoy invited the minister of war to go to constantinople "to live with the sultan and other friends." arabi, to his credit, refused to desert his followers, and replied that the people would not suffer him to leave, and that as they were attached to him he could not abandon them. the same day a telegram was sent to the admiral as follows:-- "acquaint military governor that any attempt to bar the channel will be considered as a hostile act, which will be treated accordingly. concert with consul-general as to notice to europeans if occasion arises. before taking any hostile step, invite co-operation of french admiral; but you are not to postpone acting on your instructions because french decline to join." the admiral replied:-- "two additional guns placed in pharos castle last night. parapet facing sea-wall was also strengthened. consul-general would prefer i postponed operations until thursday morning to allow time for people to quit cairo. no change in the works bearing on the harbour. french admiral has asked for orders." seymour had now taken steps for strengthening the fleet, by ordering the ironclad _sultan_ from malta. he had also received intelligence that two battalions had been ordered to cyprus from malta in ships of the channel squadron. he had, moreover, in concert with the acting consul-general, succeeded in getting nearly the whole of the european residents out of the country. it only remained to see how far, in the event of action becoming necessary, he could count on the support of the power which had joined england in presenting the celebrated joint note. on the question being put to m. de freycinet by lord lyons, the french foreign minister replied that his government had decided "not to instruct admiral conrad to associate himself with the english admiral in stopping by force the erection of batteries or the placing of guns at alexandria." the reasons given were, that such a step would be an act of war, which could not be resorted to without the consent of the legislature, and that if the government applied to the chamber for sanction, they did not feel sure of obtaining it. on the th, the french ambassador called on lord granville and informed him, that in the event of a bombardment taking place, the french ships would go to port saïd. on the same day, admiral seymour, finding that the warlike preparations on shore were continuing, wrote to the military commandant of alexandria, that unless such proceedings were discontinued, it would become his duty to open fire on the works in course of construction. the following reply was received:-- "_to the admiral of the british fleet._ "my friend english admiral, "i had the honour to receive your letter of the th july, in which you state that you had been informed that two guns had been mounted and that other works are going on on the sea-shore, and in reply i assure you that these assertions are unfounded, and that this information is like the intimation given to you about the blocking up of the entrance to the harbour, of the falseness of which you were convinced. i rely on your feelings of humanity, and beg you to accept my respects. "(signed) toulba, "commandant of forces." the khedive during this period retained great self-possession. he realized perfectly the difficulties of his position, and sent for sir auckland colvin, to whom he explained that should a bombardment be resolved upon he was determined to remain faithful to egypt. he could not, he said, desert those who had stood by him during the crisis, nor could he, merely to secure his personal safety, abandon egypt when attacked by a foreign power. in the event of a bombardment taking place, his highness announced his intention of retiring to a palace on the mahmoudieh canal, and added that the more rapidly the affair was conducted, the less danger there would be for himself personally. on the th, admiral seymour telegraphed to the admiralty that "there was no doubt about the armament. guns were being mounted in fort silsileh. he should give foreign consuls notice at daylight to-morrow, and commence action twenty-four hours after, unless forts on the isthmus and those commanding the entrance to the harbour were surrendered." the information upon which seymour proposed to act was partly a declaration made by lieutenant dorrien, of the _invincible_, and which (omitting immaterial parts) was as follows:-- "on the morning of the th day of july, , at about . a.m., i drove through the rosetta gate, and ... reached the old quarantine station, where i ... proceeded on foot to the fort marked on admiralty chart 'tabia-el-silsileh,' and when within fifty yards of the said fort i observed inside two working parties of arabs about strong, under the superintendence of soldiers, parbuckling two smooth-bore guns--apparently -pounders--towards their respective carriages and slides, which were facing in the direction of the harbour, and which seemed to have been lately placed ready for their reception." on the th, the admiralty telegraphed to the admiral directing him to substitute for the word "surrendered" the words "temporarily surrendered for the purposes of disarmament." the same day, the admiral sent his ultimatum to the military commandant, in the terms following:-- "i have the honour to inform your excellency that as hostile preparations, evidently directed against the squadron under my command, were in progress during yesterday at forts pharos and silsileh, i shall carry out the intention expressed to you in my letter of the th instant, at sunrise to-morrow, the th instant, unless previous to that hour you shall have temporarily surrendered to me, for the purpose of disarming, the batteries on the isthmus of ras-el-tin and the southern shore of the harbour of alexandria." the actual danger to admiral seymour's ships from the egyptian preparations was at this time simply nil, and even were it otherwise he had only to make a slight change in the position of his vessels to place them completely out of harm's way. at the same time, the bombardment which he threatened, had, after the events of the th of june, become, in a certain sense, a necessity, if only to restore european prestige in egypt: moreover, it formed the first step towards shattering the power of arabi and his army, which was now, to a great extent, concentrated in alexandria. in hurrying on the bombardment, the admiral was probably influenced not a little by the desire to allay the growing impatience of the officers and men under his command. ever since the murder of an officer and two men of the fleet, on the day of the riot, a good deal of dissatisfaction was expressed at the continued inaction of the naval force, not only by the seamen, but by the officers as well. it was foreseen that the arrival of british troops was only a question of days, and the bluejackets naturally desired that, as what had taken place was an insult to the fleet, to the fleet should be given the work of avenging it. they were unwilling, as they put it, that they should be employed merely "to carry sir garnet wolseley's baggage on shore." the admiral himself, whilst sharing these sentiments, may not unnaturally have had in his mind the fact that the channel squadron, under admiral dowell, was on its way to share in the honours of the day. on the receipt of admiral seymour's ultimatum, a cabinet council was held at ras-el-tin, presided over by the khedive in person. it was decided to send a deputation to the admiral, to inform him that no new guns were being mounted in the forts, and to tell him that he was at liberty to send one of his officers, if he desired to test the truth of this statement. the deputation came back with the answer that the admiral insisted on the disarmament of the forts. the council again met in the afternoon, and decided that the silsileh fort and fort pharos, and the guns placed in them on the _eastern_ harbour, could not constitute any threat towards the vessels which were in the _western_ harbour, and that the president of the council should write to the admiral in the terms of the despatch mentioned below. it was at the same time resolved that in the event of the admiral persisting in opening fire, the forts should not answer until the fifth shot, when they were to reply. "_alexandria, july th, ._ "admiral, "as i had the honour to promise in the conversation i had with you this morning, i have submitted to his highness the khedive, in a meeting of the ministers and principal dignitaries of the state, the conditions contained in the letter you were good enough to address this morning to the commandant of the place, according to the terms of which you will put into execution to-morrow, the th instant, at daybreak, the intentions expressed in your letter of the th instant to the commandant of the place, if before that time the batteries on the isthmus of ras-el-tin and the southern shore of the port of alexandria are not temporarily surrendered to you, to be disarmed. "i regret to announce to you that the government of his highness does not consider this proposition as acceptable. it does not in the least desire to alter its good relations with great britain, but it cannot perceive that it has taken any measures which can be regarded as a menace to the english fleet by works, by the mounting of new guns, or by other military preparations. "nevertheless, as a proof of our spirit of conciliation, and of our desire, to a certain extent, to accede to your demands, we are disposed to dismount three guns in the batteries you have mentioned, either separated or together. "if in spite of this offer you persist in opening fire, the government reserves its freedom of action and leaves with you the responsibility of this act of aggression."[ ] the previous day the acting british consul-general visited the khedive and urged his removal to ramleh, a suburb about four miles to the east of alexandria. on the th sir auckland colvin called to say farewell to his highness, and used every argument to induce him to embark in one of the british vessels, but in vain. tewfik remained firm, and announced his intention of standing by his country. at seven in the evening all the consuls-general were warned to withdraw their subjects. the acting british consul-general and sir auckland colvin embarked on board the _monarch_, and the few remaining british residents betook themselves to the p. & o. s.s. _tanjore_.[ ] in the course of the day all the merchant vessels in the harbour left, and these were followed by the foreign men-of-war. one by one the latter steamed slowly out, and as they passed the british flag-ship her band struck up the different national airs. the last ship to leave was the austrian frigate _landon_, and when darkness closed in, the english ships of war were alone in the harbour of alexandria. at . p.m. the admiral, in the _invincible_, with the _monarch_ in company, weighed anchor, and steamed to a position outside the harbour. all lights were extinguished, and perfect silence was maintained as the ships cautiously felt their way through the water. at . both vessels came to an anchor off mex, where their consort, the _penelope_, was already lying. in the meantime, all the ships, including the larger ironclads _sultan_, _ superb_, _temeraire_, _alexandra_, and _inflexible_, which were lying in the offing, had struck their upper masts, sent down top-gallant and royal yards, and got everything ready for action. in this state they remained for the night. in order to give the reader an idea of the comparative strength of the opposing forces, it is necessary, in the first place, to give a short description of the fortifications of alexandria and their armaments. alexandria is situated on a strip of land between the mediterranean and lake mareotis; a considerable portion of the town stands on a promontory, which, jutting out from the rest towards the north-west, is bounded on the north-east by the new or eastern harbour, and on the south-west by the old or western harbour. the fortifications, which were intended to protect the city from an attack, not only by sea, but also from the direction of lake mareotis, are said to have been planned in paris, and executed under the direction of french engineers. the whole of the works were originally well built, but had fallen much out of repair. the material used was a soft limestone but little calculated to withstand modern artillery. the parapets were of sand, covered with a thin coating of cement. the scarps and counterscarps were reveted with stonework. the rifled guns, without exception, fired through embrasures, and nearly all the smooth-bore guns fired over parapets. the buildings were none of them bomb-proof; nor, except in the case of fort pharos, were there any casemated or covered batteries. the forts on the sea face of alexandria may be summed up as follows:-- west of alexandria--forts marabout, adjemi, and marza-el-kanat. south-west of alexandria--citadel of mex, old fort of mex, and mex lines. south of alexandria--forts kamaria, omuk kubebe, saleh aga, and a small battery between the two last named works. north of alexandria--lighthouse or ras-el-tin fort, lines of ras-el-tin (including the hospital battery), fort adda, fort pharos, and fort silsileh. of the above, fort adjemi took no part in the subsequent bombardment. the british squadron consisted of the ironclads _alexandra_, _superb_, _sultan_, _temeraire_, _inflexible_, _monarch_, _invincible_, and penelope, the torpedo-vessel _hecla_, the despatch boat _helicon_, the gun-vessels _condor_ and _bittern_, and the gunboats _beacon_, _cygnet_, and _decoy_. the battleships, with the exception of the _invincible_ and _penelope_, were the most powerful then in the british navy. their size and armament may be briefly summarized:-- the _alexandra_, captain c. f. hotham, , tons, , h.p., men, -inch -ton and -inch -ton guns. the _superb_, captain thomas le hunt-ward, , tons, , h.p., men, -ton and - / -ton guns. the _sultan_, captain w. j. hunt grubbe, , tons, , h.p., men, -ton and - / -ton guns. the _temeraire_, captain h. f. nicholson, , tons, , h.p., men, -ton and -ton guns. the _inflexible_, captain john fisher, , tons, , h.p., men, -ton guns (in two turrets). the _monarch_, captain henry fairfax, , tons, , h.p., men, -ton, -inch -ton and -inch - / -ton guns. the _invincible_, captain r. h. molyneux, , tons, , h.p., men, -inch -ton and -pounder guns. the _penelope_, captain st. g. d. a. irvine, , tons, , h.p., men, -inch -ton and -pounder guns. the _hecla_, torpedo vessel, , tons, , h.p., men, and guns. the _helicon_, despatch vessel, , tons, carrying -pounder guns. the _condor_ and _bittern_, gun-vessels, tons, men, -inch and -pounder guns each. the _beacon_, gunboat, tons, men, -inch and -pounder gun. the _cygnet_ and _decoy_, gunboats, and tons, men, -pounder and -pounder guns each. in addition to the armament above given, the eight ironclads each carried from six to eight -pounder rifled breech-loading guns, and, with the exception of the _penelope_, from eight to twelve machine guns. there were also supernumerary seamen and marines on board the fleet, making the total force , men. the relative strength of the opposing forces may be seen from the following tables:-- the ordnance _mounted_ in the forts was as follows:-- -----------------+----------+-------------+----------+------- fort or battery. | r. guns. | s. b. guns. | mortars. | total. -----------------+----------+-------------+----------+------- fort silsileh | | | | " pharos | | | | " adda | | | | ras-el-tin lines | | | | lighthouse fort, | | | | or ras-el-tin | | | | fort saleh aga | ... | | ... | battery | ... | | ... | fort omuk kubebe | | | | " kamaria | ... | | | mex sea lines | ... | | ... | " fort | | | | fort marabout | | | ... | +----------+-------------+----------+------- total | | | | -----------------+----------+-------------+----------+------- the guns on board the ironclads are shewn in the following table:-- ------------------------------------------------------------------------- rifled guns. -----------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------- ships. | in. | in. | in. | in. | in. | in. | in. | pr. | pr. | total. | | | | | | | | | | -----------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------- alexandra | | | | | | | | | | inflexible | | | | | | | | | | superb | | | | | | | | | | sultan | | | | | | | | | | temeraire | | | | | | | | | | invincible | | | | | | | | | | monarch | | | | | | | | | | penelope | | | | | | | | | | -----------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------- total | | | | | | | | | | -----------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------- this does not include the six to eight -pounder guns and eight to twelve machine guns carried by each vessel. admiral seymour's plan for the bombardment comprised two separate attacks: one by the _sultan_, _superb_, _alexandra_, _inflexible_, and _temeraire_ from outside the breakwater, the other by the _invincible_, _monarch_, and _penelope_ inside the reefs. the three first-mentioned vessels, supported by the fire from the after turret of the _inflexible_, which was anchored off the corvette pass, were directed to destroy the batteries on the ras-el-tin peninsula, and then to move to the eastward and attack forts pharos and silsileh. the _invincible_, _monarch_, and _penelope_, aided by the fire from the _inflexible's_ forward turret and by the _temeraire_, which took up a position off the boghas pass, were ordered to open fire on the guns in the mex lines. the gun-vessels and gunboats were directed to remain outside until a favourable opportunity should offer for moving in to the attack on mex. at a.m. the admiral, whose flag was flying from the _invincible_, signalled to the _alexandra_ to fire a shell into the recently armed works on ras-el-tin, known as the hospital battery, and followed this by a general signal to the fleet, "attack the enemy's batteries." upon this immediate action began between all the ships, in the positions assigned to them, and the whole of the forts commanding the entrance to the harbour. a steady cannonade was maintained both by the attacking and defending forces, and for the next few hours the roar of the guns and the shrieks of passing shot and shell were alone audible. the spectacle as seen from the offing was imposing in the extreme. on the one side were the most powerful ships of modern times, all in fighting trim, with upper masts and yards struck, some slowly steaming ahead, others at anchor, but all pouring deadly broadsides into the egyptian batteries. on the other were the forts, standing out bright and clear in the sunshine, vomiting forth volleys of fire and smoke in the direction of the attacking squadron. the weather was fine and the sea smooth, both of which circumstances were to the advantage of the attacking force. on the other hand, the wind and sun were in the enemy's favour, and the smoke, which rose like a thick wall, at times prevented those on board the ships seeing the result of their fire. at . the _sultan_, _superb_, and _alexandra_, of the outside squadron, which had previously been under way and turning in succession at a range of about , yards, came to an anchor off the lighthouse fort. the batteries had proved stronger than had been anticipated, and the egyptian gunners were making very good practice. the firing of the ships at the same time was less effective than could be wished. under these circumstances, and to obtain the exact range, the three ships adopted a stationary position, and from this moment their fire steadily improved. a little after o'clock the harem buildings of ras-el-tin palace were set on fire and partly destroyed by a shell. at . the _alexandra_ had one of her heavy guns dismounted and rendered unserviceable. shortly after the _inflexible_ weighed anchor and joined the _sultan_, _superb_, and _alexandra_, and by . p.m. the combined fire of the four ships had nearly silenced all the guns in the ras-el-tin forts. it should be mentioned that, in addition to helping these three vessels, the _inflexible_ had at the same time been engaging the mex forts, and doing great execution with her -ton guns. the remaining vessel of the outside squadron, the _temeraire_, was meanwhile supporting the attack of the inside squadron on the mex batteries at a range of from , to , yards, and making great havoc with her guns. unfortunately, in taking up her position, she had got too close to the shoal water of the boghas pass, and in swinging round had grounded on the reef. the gunboat _condor_ promptly went to the assistance of the huge ironclad, and eventually the ship was got off without injury. although the batteries at ras-el-tin had, as above stated, practically ceased firing, some heavy guns in fort adda still kept up a desultory cannonade. at . p.m. the _sultan_ signalled to the _inflexible_, whose work was now finished both at ras-el-tin and mex, "adda and pharos are the only ones not silenced, all our filled shell are expended, and if you are going that way, one or two shells from your heavy guns would do much good, if you don't mind." at . the _sultan_ added, "please silence adda as well." the _inflexible_ then stood across to fort adda, and at . opened fire. shortly after, the _temeraire_ was signalled, "assist _inflexible_ in destroying pharos and silsileh." the _temeraire_ then weighed and steamed over to the position indicated, and assisted in shelling both forts. about . p.m. a lucky shell from the _superb_, whose practice was very good, blew up the magazine of fort adda. the explosion was terrific, and huge pieces of _débris_ were thrown into the air, whilst a dense cloud of smoke for some seconds hid the works from view. the fort at once ceased firing, and when the smoke cleared away it was seen that the garrison had retreated from the blackened ruins. as early as . , the ships were beginning to run short of ammunition, and the _sultan_ signalled to the _alexandra_, "how many filled shell have you?" and received the answer "twenty." at one o'clock the _alexandra_ signalled that she had only thirty common shell left, and was answered by the _sultan_ that she had none at all, and that the _alexandra_ had better use common shell as the _sultan_ was doing. at . , with the exception of the hospital fort, where one rifled gun continued firing, all the batteries from fort adda westward being silenced, the _superb_ signalled the fact to the _sultan_, and suggested getting under way. the _sultan_ replied in the affirmative, adding, "can you touch up pharos? _temeraire_ now on her way to assist _inflexible_ at pharos. i have no shell filled, nor has _alexandra_." the _superb_ accordingly proceeded towards fort pharos and opened fire. at . the _sultan_ signalled to the _inflexible_, which was engaging the hospital battery and fort pharos, "proceed to pharillon" (silsileh). at . a shot from the hospital battery struck the _inflexible_ aloft, carrying away the slings of the mainyard. at the hospital battery fired its last shot. at . the _inflexible_ proceeded across to engage fort silsileh, all the other forts from ras-el-tin eastward having been silenced. at . the general signal, "cease firing," was made, followed at . by, "anchor in same position as last night." while the off-shore squadron was thus occupied, the other division of the fleet under the admiral's immediate command was not idle. the _invincible_ at anchor, with the _monarch_ and _penelope_ under weigh inside the reefs, assisted by the _inflexible_ and _temeraire_, in the corvette and boghas channels, were engaging from a distance of , to , yards the batteries and lines of mex, also the forts of marza-el-kanat and omuk kubebe at various ranges. the enemy replied briskly both from rifled and smooth bore guns. at . one of the _monarch's_ shells exploded the powder magazine at marza-el-kanat. at . the admiral signalled to her, "close nearer the forts, keeping as close to them as possible." by a.m. the enemy's guns, except four at fort mex, were silenced. these four nevertheless gave considerable trouble to the ships, for it was difficult to hit upon their exact position, placed as they were almost on a level with the water, and only dimly and occasionally seen through the smoke. about an hour before this lord charles beresford, in the _condor_, stationed as repeating ship, saw that the -inch rifled guns in fort marabout were playing with great accuracy, at a range of , yards, upon the ships engaged off fort mex, the shots falling only from to yards short. steaming within range of his -inch gun, he chose with great skill a position, , yards off, upon which the enemy's guns could not be brought to bear, and engaged the fort single-handed for two hours. the _condor's_ excellent practice soon checked the fire from fort marabout, and elicited from the admiral, who sent the other gunboats to his aid, the signal, "well done, _condor_." it is satisfactory to be able to add that during this operation no casualties occurred on any of the vessels engaged.[ ] at . the flag-ship signalled to the _monarch_, "steam close in to the batteries we have silenced and drop a few shells into them at close range." this was followed by, "go as close to forts as water will permit." the _monarch_ then steamed in shore and poured in a tremendous fire from all her guns. at . , there being no return fire, she, as well as the _invincible_, ceased firing. at . , the gunboats having returned from marabout, the _monarch_, which remained under way, was signalled to support them in an attempt to destroy the mex works, but ordered not to fire unless fired upon. all the gunboats were at the same time signalled to close in to the batteries, and, remaining under way, to destroy their rifled guns. the _condor_, ten minutes after, signalled that she had only twenty-one shells for each gun left, and received the order to cease firing. the gunboats, supported by the _monarch_, continued to fire on the works. at . , the _monarch_ observing soldiers running back into the batteries, permission was given her to reopen fire. permission was also given to the _penelope_ to fire at the rifled guns in the batteries with her -pounders. at . p.m. the _monarch_ ceased firing, signalling that she had driven about soldiers out of the works. at . p.m. the _penelope_ was ordered to get under way, and taking advantage of her light draught, to try to dismount the guns at mex. she then weighed and proceeded in towards mex fort, firing at intervals. at . the windmills in the neighbourhood of the forts were seen to be full of soldiers, and the _monarch_ was ordered to open fire on them with her light guns. about p.m. the admiral, seeing that the gunners of the western battery of mex had abandoned their guns, and that the supports had probably retired also, landed a party, under cover of the gun-vessels and gunboats, who destroyed with gun-cotton two -inch rifled guns, and spiked six smooth-bore guns in the right hand battery. the party returned without a casualty beyond the loss of one of their boats, which got capsized on the rocks, on an alarm (happily unfounded) being raised that some soldiers were approaching to attack the little force. at . the _penelope_ signalled to the admiral that fort kamaria had its guns manned, though, from her inshore position, the ship's guns would not bear on them. the admiral, in consequence, directed the _penelope_ to change her position and open fire on the fort. about the same time soldiers were observed transporting light guns into one of the mex batteries, and the _monarch_ was signalled to attack again. both vessels promptly responded, and, steaming into position, poured in a devastating fire on the points indicated. at . , there being no reply from the enemy, the inside squadron ceased firing. this concluded the operations of the day. the casualties on board the ships were but slight, amounting only to five killed and twenty-eight wounded--a fact to be attributed partly to the protection afforded by the armour plating of the ships principally engaged, and partly to the inaccurate fire of the enemy's batteries.[ ] a courageous act was reported from the _alexandra_. in the course of the bombardment a lighted shell from one of the egyptian batteries fell on the main deck of the vessel. mr. israel harding, gunner, rushed for the missile all burning as it was, and immersed it in a bucket of water.[ ] the egyptians, it must be allowed, were overmatched both in the size and number of the guns brought into action, but the way in which they responded to the heavy fire was marvellous. when the _inflexible's_ , lb. projectiles struck the scarp of the lighthouse fort immediately underneath an embrasure they threw up a cloud of dust and fragments of stone as high as the lighthouse itself. to the looker-on, it seemed impossible to live under such a fire, yet after a few minutes the dust would clear away, and the gun's crew would pluckily send another shell back at their huge opponent. the egyptian forces were under the immediate command of toulba pasha. from the best sources of information accessible, it is gathered that the defences contained no less than , artillerymen, and of infantry and civilian volunteers there was no lack. the disposition of these troops has not been accurately ascertained, but it is known that mex was commanded by an adjutant-major, who had with him one captain, three lieutenants, and men. of this small number one lieutenant was mortally wounded, men were killed, and wounded. fort omuk kubebe, as already mentioned, was subjected to the _inflexible's_ fire during the forenoon. its garrison consisted of artillerymen, aided by a considerable number of native volunteers. eighteen of these were wounded. in all, along the southern or inside line, from saleh aga to marabout, men were killed, and from to wounded. in the northern line of defences at ras-el-tin, and also in fort adda, at least men are believed to have been killed and wounded, but the record is very vague. stray pieces of shell are reported by the chief of police to have killed and wounded between and citizens, but this statement must be accepted for what it is worth.[ ] it is only fair to the other side to give the egyptian narrative of the bombardment. the account published in the arab paper _el taif_, in cairo, was as follows: "war news.--on tuesday, shaban, , at twelve o'clock in the morning (july th, a.m.). the english opened fire on the forts of alexandria, and we returned the fire. at a.m. an ironclad foundered off fort adda. at noon two vessels were sunk between fort pharos and fort adjemi. at . p.m. a wooden man-of-war of eight guns was sunk. "at p.m. the large ironclad was struck by a shell from fort pharos, the battery was injured, and a white flag was immediately hoisted by her as a signal to cease firing at her, whereupon the firing ceased on both sides, having lasted for ten hours without cessation. some of the walls of the forts were destroyed, but they were repaired during the night. the shots and shells discharged from the two sides amounted to about , , and this is the first time that so large a number of missiles has been discharged in so short a time. "at a.m. on wednesday the english ships again opened fire and were replied to by the forts, but after a short time the firing ceased on both sides, and a deputation came from admiral seymour and made propositions to toulba pasha, which he could not accept. * * * * * "no soldiers ever stood so firmly to their posts under a heavy fire as did the egyptians under the fire of twenty-eight ships during ten hours. * * * * * "at a.m. on thursday an english man-of-war was seen to put a small screw in place of the larger one which she had been using, and it was then known that her screw had been carried away by a shot from the forts. on examining other ships it was observed that eight had been severely battered on their sides, and that one had lost her funnel." chapter ix. observations on the bombardment. the bombardment of the forts of alexandria was an occurrence of such importance, and so rare are bombardments in recent naval annals, that a few general observations will probably not be without interest. the most obvious mode of attack on fortifications would be for the ships to form in line ahead and steam past the batteries, each ship delivering her fire in succession as her guns would bear. having thus passed the line of defence, the ships would turn and repeat the process with the other broadside. by manoeuvring in this manner, the forts (which have the advantage of a fixed gun-carriage), would labour under the disadvantage of having a moving target to fire at. on this principle for two and a-half hours the bombardment of the forts from ras-el-tin to pharos was conducted by the _sultan_, _superb_, and _alexandra_. from the fact that at . a.m. this mode of attack was changed for one which consisted in the systematic concentration of fire on individual forts, from ships more or less stationary, it may be concluded that the former plan was found faulty. it is submitted that the best principle in practice is the consecutive silencing of individual batteries, and not a general, and so to speak collective, bombardment. in support of this principle it may be mentioned that from the time of the adoption of the second plan the fire of the ships improved very much in accuracy. this also had the further advantage of being accompanied by a simultaneous diminution in the accuracy of the fire of the enemy: as is shown by the circumstance that the majority of the hits received by the _sultan_, _superb_, and _alexandra_ were sustained before . --the time when these vessels came to an anchor and adopted the concentration principle. that the fire of the ships would improve as soon as the vessels became stationary is intelligible enough, and is accounted for by the exact range being then attainable, but that the enemy should have made worse practice against a fixed than against a moving target appears a little difficult to understand. the naval officers engaged have, with some sense of humour, suggested that the vessels in manoeuvring from time to time steamed across the line of the egyptian fire and so got struck. the explanation, however, is probably to be found in the increased state of demoralization of the artillerymen as soon as the ships anchored and made more accurate practice. in the inshore squadron the flag-ship _invincible_ was anchored for the most part , yards from mex, and was kept broadside to the wind on one side, and to the batteries on the other, by a kedge carried out to windward. the _monarch_ and _penelope_ remained under way, passing and repassing the forts. the _penelope_ adopted the plan of steaming out three-quarters of a mile towards the reef, and then drifting towards the shore broadside on until within about yards, whilst the _monarch_ kept more way on, moving in a line parallel with the shore. the fire from these two ships was throughout less effective than that from the _invincible_, which was at anchor. the range at which the fleet generally engaged seems to have been needlessly great. the outside squadron could have got to within , yards of the lighthouse fort and yards abreast of the ras-el-tin lines, to within yards of fort adda and yards of fort pharos, whilst the inshore division could easily have got within yards of all the batteries in the neighbourhood of mex. it can hardly be doubted that the boldness of this move would have been rewarded by the more speedy and extensive dismounting of the guns, which was confessedly the chief object of the attack, and would have allowed the machine guns in the vessels' tops to be used with greater effect. it must be remembered that the target in each case was the muzzle of a gun, a mere pin's head at the distance at which the ships were engaged, and that a successful hit meant either good luck or phenomenally good shooting. this hammering away at long range was tolerably successful, but the length of the action was a disappointment to those who expected short work to be made of the egyptians, while, as has been seen, it drained the stock of ammunition to a dangerously low ebb. the enormous disproportion between the damage sustained by the ships and batteries respectively may be accounted for, partly by the inferior construction of the works, and partly also by the inferior practice of the gunners by whom they were manned. there were other faults in the defence. for example: the batteries were so placed as to be unable, except at fort pharos, to support one another; there was no bomb-proof cover; there was too small a stock of ammunition in readiness; and the men who should have been employed as reliefs for manning the rifled guns wasted their efforts with the smooth bores, which were practically useless. with regard to the fire of the fleet generally, a variety of opinions has been expressed. one authority states that, with the exception of the _inflexible_ and _temeraire_, the english gunners did not greatly distinguish themselves. many of the shells of the _monarch_, _inflexible_, and _superb_ fell short.[ ] the fire also was said to have been too slow, thus giving the enemy's artillerists time to recover themselves. the fire of the _inflexible_ was stated to have been particularly disappointing in this respect. that of the _alexandra_ was much more rapid than that of the others, as her much greater expenditure of ammunition shows. a naval officer of experience has expressed the opinion that, considering the nature of the works attacked, an old line-of-battle ship, with her numerous though much smaller guns, would have been more effective than the modern ships which took part in the bombardment. if one considers the great size and weight of the majority of the projectiles used, as well as the capacity of the shell and the consequent amount of their bursting charges, one can hardly fail to be astonished at the small effect produced on the sand parapets, especially when it is remembered that the latter were in many cases, according to modern theory, too weak to afford any real protection. it is a fact, and one on which too much stress cannot be laid, that in only one instance was any one of the parapets pierced by a shell from the fleet, and that fort mex was the only battery which could not have been sufficiently repaired during the night to resume the action on the following day. one remarkable feature of the fire from the fleet was the enormous number of shells which failed to explode, and this has never been satisfactorily accounted for. the expenditure of ammunition by the squadron appears from the following table:-- (a) common. (b) palliser. (c) shrapnel. (d) segment. (e) empty shell. (f) shot. (g) case. (h) total.[ ] (i) martini-henry. (j) nordenfeldt. (k) gatling. (l) rockets. -----------+----+---+----+---+---+---+---++-----++------+------+-----+--- ship. | (a)|(b)| (c)|(d)|(e)|(f)|(g)|| (h) || (i) | (j) | (k) |(l) -----------+----+---+----+---+---+---+---++-----++------+------+-----+--- alexandra | | | | | | | || || | | | superb | | | | | | | || || | | | sultan | | | | | | | || || | | | penelope | | | | | | | || || | | | monarch | | | | | | | || || | | | temeraire | | | | | | | || || | | | invincible | | | | | | | || || | | | inflexible | | | | | | | || || | | | beacon | | | | | | | || || | | | condor | | | | | | | || || | | | bittern | | | | | | | || || | | | cygnet | | | | | | | || || | | | decoy | | | | | | | || || | | | helicon | | | | | | | || || | | | +----+---+----+---+---+---+---++-----++------+------+-----+--- total | | | | | | | || || , | , | | -----------+----+---+----+---+---+---+---++-----++------+------+-----+--- the hits received by the fleet were as follows:-- _alexandra._ twenty-four shot and shell penetrated the ship above the armour-plating. several shot and shell struck the armour; of these, some made indentations on the plates from five inches to one inch in depth. the foremost funnel was struck in three places. the total number of hits was about sixty. _sultan._ number of hits, twenty-seven, of which two struck the armour, denting two plates, and starting one. one shot went through the after funnel. the holes made in the side were as follows:--one sixteen inches by twelve inches; another fifteen inches in diameter; and a third fourteen inches in diameter. a hole sixteen inches by ten was made through the mainmast. _superb._ fourteen hits, of which seven were on the hull, and seven on the upper works and spars. a -inch shell struck the port side, and, bursting, tore a hole in the side ten feet by four feet, within three feet of the water-line. the armour-plating on the port side was struck by two shells, of which one indented the armour three inches, and the other burst, starting a plate, and breaking fourteen rivet-heads. some of the rigging was shot away, and a hole twelve inches in diameter was made in the foremast. two other holes in the side were as follows:--one ten inches in diameter, four feet above the water-line; the other twelve inches in diameter (made by a -inch shot), five feet above the water-line. _penelope._ eight hits, of which three were on the armour, making little or no indentation. of the others, one passed through the after embrasure on the starboard side; another hit the starboard quarter gallery; the third struck a -pounder gun, carried off the sight and damaged the carriage; the fourth hit the mainyard, port side; and the fifth struck the muzzle of one of the -inch guns, then broke up and destroyed the transom plate of the carriage. the gun and carriage were put out of action. _invincible._ eleven hits, six of which passed through the side. a large dent was made in the armour by a shot which also started a plate. _inflexible._ about six hits altogether. one shot struck the unarmoured part of the hull, and, penetrating, damaged the bollards and did other injury. other shots damaged the upper-works, but the armour-plating was not struck. the _monarch_, _temeraire_, _hecla_, and gunboats received no hits at all. with regard to the effects of the bombardment on the various forts, it is proposed to give a short account, taking them in the same order in which they were first presented to the reader.[ ] . _fort marabout._--a small store was burnt. there were several hits on the scarp, but none of the guns were in any way injured. . _fort adjemi._--uninjured. . _marza-el-kanat._--no injury was done to the fort, but a store of gun-cotton was exploded. . the citadel of mex had several breaches made in the works, but no guns were dismounted. . _old fort of mex._--parapets were uninjured, but the buildings in the rear were almost swept away. a small store in front of magazine was levelled to the ground. the large store was riddled with shot, but the magazine was untouched. the barracks were much damaged. the fort was found to contain many fragments of shell, and the loss of life among the defenders was probably considerable. the damage to the guns was as follows:--a -inch armstrong gun was struck in the second coil by a shell which cut a groove of an oval shape in the metal; the coil was shaken out of place and cracked, but the gun was left serviceable. a -inch armstrong gun was struck by a shell, and received an oval graze · inch in depth. in the right portion of the battery, a -inch s.b. and two -inch armstrong guns were struck by shrapnel bullets, and the fifth gun from the left, an -inch armstrong, was struck on the coil by a shell. the blow dismounted gun, carriage and slide. the metal of the gun was ripped off for eighteen inches, and the trunnion ring was also started by the force of the blow. the remaining guns ( -pounders) were uninjured. _left flank battery._--left gun( -inch s.b.). this gun was hit on the right of the carriage by a splinter, the gun was uninjured. no. gun ( -inch s.b.).--this was hit by a shell on the muzzle, gun uninjured. . the mex lines, armed with s.b. guns, were not fought, and the works escaped injury. . _fort kamaria_ was not much injured. a -inch s.b. gun was dismounted by a shell. in view of the tremendous fire to which fort mex was subjected, and the comparatively short range at which all the ships except the _temeraire_ engaged it, it is almost impossible to believe that not a single gun here was disabled or dismounted during the action proper. the -inch gun which was dismounted was bowled over by the _penelope_ long after the fort had ceased firing, and from a distance stated to be about yards. the successful shot was the thirtieth of this series, and was aimed by the gunnery lieutenant. "this fort was the only one which could not have resumed action on the following day, in consequence of the injury done by the landing-party by exploding gun-cotton and spiking the guns."[ ] . _omuk kubebe._--the effects of the bombardment were considerable, though they were due less to the number of hits than to the size and weight of the -inch shells which caused most of the injuries. the effect of three of these shells from the _inflexible_ was worthy of note. one shell having burst on the top of the scarp made an almost practicable breach. two others, within a few feet of each other, hit the parapet, feet thick, and almost pierced it. they appear to have struck the exterior slope, and having cut a trough in the parapet about feet in width, burst after penetrating feet, and formed craters feet in diameter, and feet and feet inches in depth, respectively. with regard to the ordnance, the only damage was the destruction of a -pounder s.b. gun. . _saleh aga._--one -inch and one · s.b. gun were dismounted, and one of the · -inch s.b. guns was destroyed, though not dismounted. . the adjoining battery received only slight injuries. . _lighthouse fort, or fort ras-el-tin._--the barracks to the north of the fort were riddled with shell, and in many parts left in ruins. the parapets on the west side were so scored with shell that it was difficult to estimate the number of hits, but at no point had they been pierced. the scarp also suffered severely, both at the bastions and on the curtain; and the right face of the bastion was much marked by shrapnel bullets. on the west front the parapet showed about twenty-three hits, and the scarp twenty-four; two stores were burnt, and the rifled-shell store was riddled with shell. the lighthouse itself was hit by several shells, and the buildings round its base were reduced to ruins. right gun ( -inch).--this gun was sent back to the end of the slide, and breaking the ties was tilted up on its breech with the muzzle in the air. left gun ( -inch).--this was struck by two shells, and gun and carriage were both destroyed. the former was hit on the trunnion ring, which had been partially carried away, the carriage was in pieces, and the brackets were torn off and broken. the gun was thrown about twelve feet to the rear and crushed several of the gunners, ten bodies having been found beneath it. in the left bastion, a -inch armstrong gun was hit on the muzzle, but the tube was not damaged. the sockets of the levers were broken by use, the tackle shot away, and the shot-crane broken and useless. a -inch gun was run back and tilted up on the breech in the same manner as the -inch gun in the right bastion. an -inch gun was struck in reverse by shells. the gun and carriage were capsized on the left side, but uninjured. one truck of the slide was cut away. the lighthouse fort suffered more severely than either pharos or adda, since there was not one of the rifled guns which could bear on the fleet left fit for service. . _the lines of ras-el-tin._--(left or harem battery.) the effects of the bombardment on the fort were small, but the loss of life must have been considerable, as many shells burst in it. the rear face of the tower was in ruins. right gun ( -inch armstrong).--a -inch palliser shell struck the lower side of the gun and burst on the breast of the carriage with the following results: the gun beyond being indented for a distance of inches in length was uninjured, but had been thrown about feet from its original position. both brackets of the carriage were torn away. the entire carriage was a wreck. centre gun ( -inch armstrong).--the right-front truck of the carriage was broken, and the gun was struck by a splinter on the chase. the gun and the carriage, however, suffered no serious injury, though the left bracket of the latter was pierced by a splinter. the centre battery in the interior was almost uninjured, though the parapet was deeply scored in all directions by shells. the embrasure of the left gun ( -inch) was choked up by the ruins of the cheeks, whilst the revetment on each side of the neck was swept away. the condition of the guns was as follows:-- -inch armstrong gun.--the right-front truck of the carriage was carried away, and the buffers of the slide were much damaged by the recoil of the gun. -inch armstrong gun.--the gun and carriage were uninjured except that the lever of the elevating gear was bent, and the holdfast was rising off the pin. -inch left gun.--this was hit on the left trunnion by a shell which tore off the cap square, and also by a second shell, on the right bracket six inches in the rear of the trunnion. the gun and carriage were, however, practically uninjured. this battery in the early reports of the bombardment was miscalled the moncrieff battery, but there was in it no gun mounted on that system. the moncrieff gun, yards to the westward, was hit on the left side by a splinter of a shell, and a bolt in the rear of the left bracket was also cut out by a nordenfeldt bullet. beyond this it was unhurt, and remained perfectly serviceable. _the hospital battery._--the effects of the bombardment here were overwhelming. the entire gun portions were so entirely destroyed that it was difficult to discover where the original crest had been. the injuries to the guns were as follows:--right gun ( -inch armstrong).--the cheeks of the embrasure were driven in on the gun, and the trucks were jammed, otherwise the gun and carriage were uninjured. the former was, however, scored with forty-nine hits from a -inch shrapnel shell, the greatest depth of any hit being inches. left gun ( -inch armstrong).--a shell burst under the front racer on the left side of this gun, tore it up and bent it into a vertical plane, twisting the truck and forcing it off the racer. the slide was also jammed by the ruins of the revetment. the gun-carriage and slide were otherwise uninjured, and were left fit for service.[ ] . _fort adda._--the barracks and stores, especially on the east side of the fort, were very much injured, but the batteries were not materially damaged. the only shell which entered, that on the southern half of the western side, blew up the magazine. the loss of life from the explosion was probably very great, and the entire space between the magazine and the gate was covered with stones, timber, and broken shell. the injury to the guns was as follows:--a -inch s.b. gun was dismounted by a shell which threw the gun and carriage to a distance of about feet from the slide. another -inch s.b. gun was similarly dismounted, whilst a third was struck on the left side of the platform by a shell which had previously cut off the cascabel of the second gun to the left; the beams of the platform were completely shattered, and the gun with its carriage was overturned and wrecked. . _fort pharos._--the west tower and front were breached in many places; the minaret was partly knocked down, and the whole of the west front of the keep, with its two turrets, were in ruins. the south-east corners of the fort were also much shattered by the shells which passed over the west front. the stores and barracks suffered severely, and the destruction of so much masonry must have added considerably to the moral effect of the fire of the ships. with regard to the sea front, the parapet was hit in several places (seven in all), but only in three cases did a shell enter the battery. the corners of the traverse to the right of the -inch armstrong guns were carried away by two shells; a third shell pierced the sole of the embrasure of the -inch armstrong gun, and threw the large granite block which formed the sill on to the platform of the gun, so the gun might be said to be out of action. of the s.b. guns, one heavy -inch on the west tower was dismounted, by a -inch shell from the _inflexible_, one -inch gun on the west front was capsized and put out of action, and it is not unlikely that another, with its carriage, fell into the crater formed by a shell. on the rear face, a -pounder, having been hit on the cascabel by a chance shell, was thrown completely over the parapet, and left standing on its muzzle at a distance of feet from its original position. another gun was also unserviceable, owing to the partial destruction of its carriage by a shell. but it was in the casemates below that the fire of the ships inflicted the greatest injury. the front wall of the casemates, which is faced with masonry two feet in thickness, was in many places torn away under the stress of fire, leaving only six feet of rubble as a protection to the guns. through the latter the heavy shells pierced with ease. the results were as follows:--under west tower, casemate penetrated, gun not disabled. in casemates nos. to , just one half of the guns were disabled. of the casemates on the right sea front, no. was the only one in which there was no gun hit. the loss of life in the casemates must have been out of all proportion to the effect produced by the feeble guns (six -inch s.b.) mounted within. on the scarp of casemates nos. to there were about hits, of which seven pierced the wall. . _fort silsileh._--the fire does not appear to have in any way injured the guns or stores of this fort, though fragments of at least two shells lay around the rifled guns. the total number of guns dismounted was, four m.l.r. guns, sixteen s.b. guns, and one mortar. the forts at alexandria generally were badly knocked about, but the more modern parapets were not seriously injured. if the bombardment were directed against the forts in their defensive capacity, it must be pronounced a failure. if its object were the dismounting of the rifled guns, it must be conceded that such results as attended the work of either the inside squadron (where only one gun of this type was seriously affected), or even of the outside squadron (where less than half of the guns were permanently disabled), do not justify the verdict of success. in the wider sense, however, of having driven the egyptian gunners from their batteries and having silenced the forts, the fleet was unquestionably victorious. chapter x. the day after the bombardment. the following day, the th july, when it was proposed to renew the bombardment, there was dull gloomy weather off alexandria, with a haze hanging over the city. there had been a strong breeze from the sea during the previous night, and it was still blowing fresh from the n.n.w., causing the ironclads forming the outside squadron to roll somewhat. the gunboat _beacon_ at daylight collected the bodies of the men belonging to the fleet, killed the previous day, and buried them at sea. the _humber_ storeship appeared in sight, and working parties were sent to her for ammunition. at a.m. the _inflexible_ and _temeraire_ were sent to reconnoitre the batteries from eunostos point on ras-el-tin, to fort pharos. at . the _temeraire_ reported that the hospital battery was prepared, that two large rifled guns were ready with guns' crews about them, and that numbers of men under arms were in the barracks and covered way. the _inflexible_ at the same time signalled that a large body of men, armed with rifles, was in the rear of the hospital earthworks. in reply, the _sultan_ signalled to the _inflexible_ and _temeraire_, "close, and open fire with shell." at . the two ships, having taken up position, fired twelve shells, to which there was no reply, and the men were observed leaving the batteries. at . flags of truce were displayed at the lighthouse battery and at fort adda. at the same time, a boat bearing a white flag came out towards the _inflexible_. this being noticed, the vessels were ordered to cease firing. the boat then returned to the shore without communicating. at the admiral signalled to the _penelope_ and _sultan_, "weather having moderated, admiral intends to attack marabout and adjemi; approach with _sultan_, _alexandra_, _temeraire_, and _superb_. i will send gunboat to summon enemy to surrender." at . the _bittern_ was sent with a flag of truce to communicate with the egyptian authorities. at . the squadron was reinforced by the arrival of the ironclad _achilles_, belonging to the channel fleet. at . p.m. the _bittern_ returned, and signalled, "negotiations have failed, have informed authorities you will engage batteries at . precisely." at . the _bittern_ hauled down her flag of truce, and it was reported that the flag of truce at ras-el-tin was also taken down, though this was subsequently found not to have been the case. at . , the egyptian flag at marabout having been hauled down, the vessels there were recalled, and the admiral signalled to the _sultan_, "engage batteries off pharos and ras-el-tin with your squadron." at the same time the _invincible_ fired a shot into the mex forts, but got no reply. at . a general signal was made to the ships to "take up position for engaging batteries, anchoring as convenient;" and at the _alexandra_, _temeraire_, _achilles_, _superb_, and _sultan_ weighed anchor, and proceeded in line towards fort pharos. none of the ships, however, opened fire, as the flag of truce at ras-el-tin was seen to be still flying. at . the _helicon_ was sent into harbour with a flag of truce. the instructions of the officer in command were to inform the authorities that if they wished to treat with the admiral they could do so by returning in the _helicon_, and that if they did not do so, no more flags of truce would be respected. at . the signal was made for the squadron to anchor for the night. the _helicon_, pursuant to orders, steamed up the harbour and lay off the arsenal wall, whilst the officer in command went on board the khedive's yacht _maharoussa_, expecting to find some one to treat with, but not a person was on board. after waiting half an hour, he signalled that he had been unable to find any of the authorities to communicate with, and returned at . p.m. as early as four in the afternoon a part of the town had been observed to be on fire, and the conflagration soon after was seen to spread rapidly. during the night the fires on shore continued to extend, and it became evident that it was the richest part of alexandria, the european quarter, which was in flames. the spectacle as viewed from the ships was grand, but awful in character. the sky on the land side was lighted up with a fierce red glare, and columns of smoke covered the city and surrounding country. the admiral's first idea was to send a landing-party to save the town. he, however, hesitated on account of the risk to his men. eventually, to discover the state of things on shore, he landed a party of fifteen men from the _invincible_. the streets were found completely deserted, and all was silent save for the roar and crackle of the flames and the sound of falling beams and walls. the party returned at three a.m. on the th. daylight revealed the town still wrapped in flames, and an immense cloud of smoke hung over its whole extent. at . a.m. the _invincible_, _monarch_, and _penelope_ left their anchorage off mex, and steamed into the outer harbour, with the _beacon_ and _bittern_ in company. at . the _helicon_, which had again gone in to pick up refugees, embarked and brought of them for distribution amongst the ships outside. they were of all classes and nationalities, and included several women and children. they had passed through the streets unmolested, and reported alexandria deserted, and that all the troops had left the previous day, after setting fire to the town. it was believed that part of the soldiers had gone to rosetta, and part to damanhour. the _helicon_ reported that there were a great many more refugees, women and children, inside the mole waiting for an opportunity to come off. in the meantime the admiral held a consultation with some of the captains and officers under his command as to what was best to be done. on the one hand, there was the certainty that unless some step should be taken, a great part, if not the whole, of alexandria would be destroyed. on the other, it was uncertain how far arabi's troops had retired, and one report was that they were massed to the number of , outside the town, no further off than moharrem bey gate. the number of men that could be landed without disabling the ships was not large. the admiral found it difficult to decide. already he must have begun to realize the error he had committed in opening fire with such precipitation. the channel fleet (of which, as already stated, the _achilles_ had arrived) were known to be on their way from malta, as well as the _orontes_, troop-ship, with troops from gibraltar. the _tamar_, too, with , marines, was at malta. the ships of the channel fleet alone could have furnished a contingent of , men in addition to those whom admiral seymour could have disembarked from his own squadron. the bombardment, so long delayed, might well have been retarded for the short period necessary to enable the reinforcements to arrive. what had occurred was not altogether unforeseen. arabi had, before the bombardment, declared that if the ships opened fire he would burn the european quarter; and the fulfilment of his threat would have not only gratified his thirst for revenge, but would have also covered the retreat of his forces. at last a landing was resolved on, and at . a.m. the general signal was made, "prepare to land marines," followed ten minutes later by the order, "prepare to land brigade of seamen." the _helicon_, _bittern_ and _beacon_ were despatched to the outside squadron to bring in as many men as possible, whilst the _condor_ and _cygnet_ were told off to take the seamen and marines from the inshore vessels. at . the _alexandra_ was detached to reconnoitre off rosetta gate, and the remaining vessels of the outside squadron were directed to take stations for bombarding, in case the landing should be resisted. at . the landing-party left the ships. the force consisted of four hundred men, including all the marines of the squadron; it was led by commander hammill, of the _monarch_, and had with it a gatling gun. the _invincible_, at the same time, sent ashore and spiked the guns at fort saleh aga, and the other vessels landed men to destroy the guns in the lighthouse fort at ras-el-tin. whilst commander hammill's force was disembarking, large bodies of soldiers were seen moving towards fort silsileh, apparently accompanied by field-pieces, and the _sultan_, _temeraire_, and _achilles_ were ordered to watch that point, and to bombard if necessary. in the intervals between carrying out the above-mentioned operations, the larger ships were engaged in recruiting their exhausted stock of ammunition from the store-ship _humber_. in this matter a most unexpected difficulty arose. through some unpardonable blunder the ship had been despatched from malta without a single filled common shell on board, and actually without powder to fill the empty shells she had brought with her. further than this, she had brought no fuzes, and as the vessels of war had no reserves of powder, they would, had hostilities been resumed, have been speedily reduced to a state of comparative impotence. in the course of the day, anxiety being felt for the safety of the khedive, the _condor_ was sent to cruise off the palace at ramleh. further parties of men were landed in the town, making the total force disembarked about men. they took with them a day's provisions, gatling guns, and ammunition. at . p.m. the _temeraire_ signalled that great activity was observed about ramleh palace, and that dervish pasha was supposed to be there. at . the _temeraire_, having reported that fort pharos did not appear to be entirely deserted, had permission given her to send a party to spike the guns there. at the _bittern_ was directed to take a guard of fifty marines to the palace of ras-el-tin, for the protection of the khedive, who was expected from ramleh. what had been taking place on shore in the meantime is reserved for another chapter. chapter xi. alexandria during the bombardment. after the preceding narrative of events from a naval point of view, it may be convenient to relate what was taking place at the time in alexandria itself. during the whole of the night preceding the th july, the native population had been leaving the town in crowds, some in carts and others on foot, the women crying and uttering loud lamentations. towards daylight the movement slackened. from three a.m. troops were marching through on their way to ras-el-tin; at five the last detachment passed. the morning dawned on the city without a cloud in the heavens. there was a gentle breeze from the north-west, all was quiet as the early sun gilded the tops of the domes and minarets of the various mosques, and lighted up the acacia trees of the place mehemet ali and the place de l'eglise. in the streets the soldiers, who had passed the night on the door-steps of the houses, on the marble benches of the square, or on the ground, slowly roused themselves, and, yawning, looked about them in a somnolent way. the streets were being watered as usual, the "bowabs," or door-keepers, were tranquilly smoking their cigarettes at the house-doors, and the arab women were going about selling milk as if nothing unusual were about to happen. with the exception of these few indications of life, the streets were deserted. the military posts were relieved at six o'clock, as usual each soldier carrying a linen pouch full of cartridges. the clock of the church of st. catherine struck seven, and before the sound had died away, the thundering boom of the first gun from the fleet startled the city, and the few civilians who were about sought refuge in their dwellings. the egyptian soldiers remained at their posts. then came a solemn silence which lasted some minutes, after which the bombardment, with all its horrors, began. the english ships were seen in the distance vomiting volumes of fire and smoke, whilst the forts in their turn thundered forth a reply. the scene was of the grandest description, and a few seconds later the shrieks of the projectiles as they flew overhead mingled with the boom of the cannon, which echoed and re-echoed on all sides. the report from the huge -ton guns of the _inflexible_ was easily distinguishable above the general roar. at a little before eight a shell fell in the arab quarter, behind the ramleh railway station, causing a panic, which forced many of the inhabitants into the forts close by. arabi, who had from an early hour stationed himself at the ministry of marine in the arsenal, finding the missiles from the fleet falling thickly there, left with toulba pasha and an escort of cavalry, and at eight o'clock drove to the fortifications behind fort kom-el-dyk, where he remained till four p.m. by nine o'clock the streets were totally deserted except by the soldiers. the cannonade slackened, and sounds of rejoicing came from some of the native cafés, where it was reported that two ironclads were sunk and five were disabled. at about the same time a shell fell on the terrace of a house alongside the palace menasce in the rosetta road, and another burst over the german consulate. the discharges averaged about two per minute. the soldiers now commenced to send patrols to the houses of such europeans as were ashore, to prevent any attempt at signalling to the english squadron. the number of europeans ashore at this period amounted to about , . of these some were at the college of the frères, a great number in the greek church, and in the greek and european hospitals. the german hospital at moharrem bey also sheltered a large number of nurses, invalids, and refugees. the anglo-egyptian bank, in the rue cherif pasha, was held by a determined party of about twenty (subsequently increased to eighty-two). the danish consul-general had fortified the danish consulate, where a large number of people, including many women and children, found a refuge. there were other europeans, mostly of the poorest class, hidden away in their dwellings in various parts of the town, and to all these the movements of the patrols naturally occasioned serious disquietude. early in the forenoon, an egyptian officer mounted the roof of the crédit lyonnais bank, and commenced cutting away the telephone wires. shortly afterwards a gang of native boys in the same street began pulling down all the wires they could reach, raising at the same time the wildest shouts. at nine, a shell fell in some stables in the rue copt, and for a quarter of an hour the neighbourhood was enveloped in a cloud of dust. at ten, a shell fell in the franciscan convent, where a number of persons were assembled, but, as it did not burst, did no injury beyond destroying one or two of the walls. shortly afterwards a shell fell into a house in the rue cherif pasha, making a large hole. another pierced the wall of the jewish synagogue. another hit the zaptieh, and a fourth struck a house in frank street. as the missiles fell, the soldiers sought shelter in the doorways of the houses, but did not entirely desert their posts. at eleven o'clock, the natives spread a report that only three ironclads remained afloat, and great rejoicings took place in the arab cafés. half-an-hour later, an officer and a detachment of soldiers stationed themselves opposite the anglo-egyptian bank, and insisted on mounting to the roof to satisfy themselves that there was no signalling going on. they also went to the central telephone office and to the telegraph offices and cut the wires. at the office of the eastern telegraph company, they found one of the employés, a french subject, who had refused to go afloat, and murdered him on the spot. at this period, isolated firing from a westerly direction was all that was heard; otherwise the silence of death prevailed throughout the town. at half-past twelve, two shells, one following the other in quick succession, struck the khedivial schools, in the rosetta road, and, bursting, destroyed the south-western angle of the building. soon after the cannonading commenced, a number of empty carts and drays was seen going towards the marina. during the forenoon, these began to return laden with dead artillerymen. the first load passed up soon after ten in the morning, the bodies being stripped and tied in with ropes. a little later, the wounded began to arrive in great numbers, some in carriages and some in carts, many of the men showing ghastly wounds. crowds of women followed them, uttering cries of distress and lamentations.[ ] at one p.m. a crowd of native children carrying a green flag passed down the rue cherif pasha beating petroleum tins and calling on god and the prophet. during the day many of the houses in which europeans were seen on the terraces or roofs, watching the bombardment, were surrounded by soldiers, who, under the pretext that the inmates were signalling to the fleet, forced them to descend and accompany them to the police-stations. eight or ten europeans were dragged from their dwellings and set upon in the streets by the mob. as soon as they fell into the power of the latter, they were forced along by soldiers towards the moharrem bey gate, and struck with the butt ends of rifles, and received blows from naboots. as they passed along they were subjected to every species of ill-usage. on their arrival, covered with blood and in a wretched condition, fresh troubles awaited them. they were cast indiscriminately into cells with natives, and endured the vilest usage. a mob of natives in the course of the day broke into the german hospital, where there were many european refugees as well as the patients. the inmates ran for the cellars, where the invalids had already been placed for safety. the secretary of the german consulate was the last to flee, and as a final effort he fired a shot from his revolver. the effect on the crowd was magical. they drew back, and contented themselves with demanding that the flag which was flying over the hospital, and which they imagined was being used for signalling to the fleet, should be given up to them. this was acceded to, and they then dispersed. the danish consulate was surrounded by soldiers and a mob of arabs, who required the consul to haul down the flag flying over the house. this he courageously refused to do, and whilst the dispute was at its height, three arabs were killed by shells almost at his door, and the rest fled. at three, the fire of the ships, which had in the meantime slackened, was resumed with great vigour. one shell burst at moharrem bey gate, and killed two officers and six men of the police. according to arabi's statement, he received during the day several messages from the khedive, congratulating him on the behaviour of the troops. shortly after four o'clock arabi left the town in a carriage with an escort of soldiers, taking the route by the rosetta gate. about this time the _inflexible_ and _temeraire_ were observed to approach fort pharos and reopen fire on the batteries there, and a great number of their shells were seen to strike the rocks, raising clouds of _débris_, and bounding in repeated ricochets over the face of the water. towards five o'clock the picturesque mosque in the fort fell, burying in its ruins a number of the wounded who had taken refuge behind the walls. the two ships at the same time pitched a few shells at fort silsileh. the firing continued, at intervals, until past five o'clock, when it ceased altogether. as soon as the cannonade was over, the exodus of natives from the town recommenced, and the streets were again filled. the desire of all was to escape from the town as soon as possible. along the banks of the mahmoudieh canal, and the line of the railway to cairo, was one vast stream of fugitives, which only ceased as night fell. then a great stillness came over alexandria. the night was calm. the gas was not lighted, and the city, plunged in darkness, resembled a vast necropolis. the only sounds heard from time to time were the plaintive howlings of forsaken dogs. a few fugitives ventured into the streets, and encountered only the sentries and patrols. on the morning of the th, the movement of the natives recommenced. all those who had remained in the ras-el-tin and other quarters endeavoured to get out of the town with their luggage and effects. it was rumoured that the bombardment was to recommence, and the terror of the people was indescribable. the trains from moharrem bey station were thronged with fugitives, who not only rode inside, but on the roof, the steps, and even the buffers of the carriages. in the place mehemet ali a regiment of infantry were scattered about, the men, with arms piled, seated or lying on the ground, tranquilly smoking their cigarettes. a few of the bowabs were seen going to the bazaars and returning to the houses with small stores of meat and other provisions. amongst the europeans, the greatest anxiety prevailed, and every one was asking when the disembarkation would begin. the soldiers on duty became more and more threatening, and the supplies of provisions began to run short. gangs of disorderly natives from time to time appeared and made violent demonstrations in front of such houses as were known to shelter europeans. from early morning, bands of natives ran through the streets with soldiers at their head, looking for any europeans who might be concealed. at a little before eleven the cannonade recommenced, and a dozen reports were heard coming from the westward. there was then a silence, and all wondered what next would happen. as soon as the cannonade ceased, the troops at moharrem bey and rosetta gates precipitated themselves into the streets, calling on the natives to flee, as the dogs of christians were going to disembark and massacre the mussulmans. the news soon after spread that the convicts in the arsenal had been let loose, and were going to pillage and fire the town. an hour later, part of the garrison left the town by the rosetta gate, taking the road to ramleh. the first of them marched in fours in fairly good order, and were followed by , more who passed in gradually increasing disorder, until they became confused with the rabble of fugitives who crowded the roads. at one o'clock the soldiers in the street received the order to eat their midday meal, and, each opening his haversack, set to work with an appetite indicating hours of abstinence. when the men had finished their repast, mounted mustaphazin and officers, amongst whom was soleyman sami, appeared, and gave hurried orders to the soldiers at the various posts. it appears that these orders were for them to abandon the town, and retire outside. the military at once formed at certain given points, such as the place mehemet ali, the place de l'eglise, and the place de la mosque d'attarin, and shortly after the evacuation commenced the greater part of the soldiers proceeded to the mahmoudieh canal.[ ] then arose a general cry of "death to the christians!" people were heard hammering at the doors and windows of the houses. this was followed by the sound of falling shutters, and the crash of broken glass. infuriated crowds appeared on the scene, armed with heavy sticks, with which they carried on the work of destroying and plundering the shops and dwellings. the soldiers, too, broke from the ranks and joined in the looting, and with the butt-ends of their rifles assisted in forcing open doors and windows. continuous lines of soldiers and civilians staggered past laden with plunder. in a short time the streets were literally blocked by the mob. the order was given to the natives to quit the town, and from two p.m. a constant stream of fugitives flowed out of the rosetta and moharrem bey gates. when outside the town, they were met by bedouins, who, in many cases, fought with them for the spoil. one eye-witness stated that a common handkerchief changed hands in this way no less than three times whilst he was looking on. not only furniture, looking-glasses, and such things, were carried off, but horses and carriages as well. the soldiers, in many instances, undressed themselves and wrapped round their bodies all sorts of rich stuffs, such as silks and satins. some brought gilt chairs and sofas with them, but, finding the articles too cumbersome, broke them to pieces, and tore off the velvet coverings, leaving the remainder in the road. the large open space between the water-works and the european cemeteries was crowded by a huge mob of pillagers, fighting and struggling amongst themselves for the plunder. those who could get away with their spoils took them either by the road to ramleh, or by that leading to the mahmoudieh canal. the wildest disorder prevailed, and amongst the fugitives were turkish women and children of good position from the different harems. on arriving at the gates of the town the women were attacked by the mob and outraged. the marauders, in their haste to get possession of the jewellery which the women were wearing, even cut their ears and wrists, and to silence their cries stunned them with blows from their sticks. soon afterwards several soldiers were seen returning to the town, apparently to share in the pillage, and struggling to force their way through the gates against the stream of pillagers and fugitives going the other way. many of those coming out encumbered with heavy loads were upset in the _mélée_, and several of the soldiers, finding it impossible to re-enter the town, contented themselves with joining the bedouins in seizing the loot of the fugitives. about four p.m. volumes of smoke, accompanied by the crackling of flames, were observed in the neighbourhood of the british consulate. these indications increased every instant, and as the sun went down the whole sky became lighted up with a lurid glare. this was accompanied by the shouts and cries of europeans, who were either burned out or dragged from their dwellings by natives, who, with sticks and knives in their hands, spared few whom they met. a small number found refuge in the houses as yet untouched by the fire and guarded by europeans, but most of the rest fell victims. amongst those who humanely opened their doors to the fugitives was the danish consul, who sheltered no less than . it was a night to be remembered. from the terraces of the houses the flames were observed extending in the direction of the rue cherif pasha. the french consulate, the okella nuova, and other parts of the place mehemet ali, were already wrapped in flames. during the night nothing was heard but the crackling of the flames, mingled with the cries of the incendiaries and the occasional fall of a heavy building. the volumes of smoke filled the air with the most nauseating vapours. in some cases, cotton soaked in petroleum and set on fire was thrown into the houses, whilst in others tins of paraffin were poured over the furniture and ignited. where ingress to the dwellings could not be obtained, bedding soaked with petroleum was piled up on the outside and fired. on every side the smell of petroleum was distinguishable. the night passed without slumber for those on shore, and on the morning of the th alexandria presented the appearance of a vast bonfire. the europeans who remained on shore saw the flames gradually closing in on them. the pillagers and assassins had disappeared, but the atmosphere had become unbearable. there was further a fear that the arabs, seeing that no force was being landed, might return to complete the work of massacre. all hope of a disembarkation appeared as remote as ever. two of the ironclads had indeed been seen to approach fort pharos and send their boats ashore, and for a moment it was thought help was coming. the idea was a vain one. the landing was only for the purpose of spiking the egyptian cannon, and this having been accomplished, the ships steamed away. the courageous garrison of the anglo-egyptian bank, seeing there was no help to be expected, resolved to make a sortie, and early in the morning they all sallied forth together, the women and children were put in the middle of the troop, and thus they marched towards the marina. on their way they were joined by others in the same condition as themselves. they passed, without encountering any opposition, over masses of burning and smouldering ruins. they broke open the gates at the marina, and seizing some native boats rowed out to h.m.s. _helicon_. the danish consul and his party still held out, but the situation becoming worse and worse, at three in the afternoon, they, too, quitted their stronghold, and having secured the attendance of a european police officer, marched to the shore, having more than once to go out of their course to avoid the falling houses. on reaching the custom-house quay, they met the landing party under commander hammill. the fugitives passed the night in safety on board an egyptian steamer in the harbour, and were next day taken off to the vessels outside. chapter xii. events on shore. on the day of the bombardment the khedive was at his palace at ramleh, abandoned by all but a few faithful followers. his highness was kept badly posted up as to the progress of the bombardment, and amongst those who came and went with despatches were a number of spies, who, from time to time, went off to arabi to inform him of what was passing at the palace. at . a.m. an aide-de-camp arrived with the news that a considerable number of the egyptian gunners were killed, and that several guns had been dismounted. on the part of the commandant he begged the khedive to order reinforcements to be sent. the greatest excitement reigned. there were no artillerymen available, so the minister of war was directed to despatch a force of infantry. in the course of the forenoon news was brought that the forts were offering a stout resistance, and that serious damage was being inflicted on the english fleet. but later, in the afternoon, it became known that the forts were destroyed, and incapable of offering further opposition. no further accounts arriving, the khedive sent for arabi, about seven o'clock in the evening. arabi came from alexandria, where he had been during the bombardment, and on his arrival told the khedive that the forts were destroyed, and that it was no longer possible to defend them. "we must," he added, "either have recourse to other measures, or else come to terms with the admiral." after some consultation, and more or less vehement discussion, it was decided that toulba pasha should be sent to the admiral to confer. on the morning of the th july about bedouin arabs appeared before the palace with the intention (as they said) of assuring the khedive of their fidelity, and with offers of assistance in case of need; but after a slight demonstration of loyalty they retired. shortly after mid-day toulba returned and announced that the admiral had said that, unless he was allowed peaceably to land his men at three points on the coast, he would recommence the bombardment at two o'clock. to this demand toulba said he had objected, as it gave him no time to obtain instructions, but that the admiral had refused to allow further delay. a hurried consultation took place, and it was decided to send toulba pasha to the admiral to tell him that egypt had no power to authorize the landing of foreign troops on her shores without the consent of the porte. toulba proceeded as far as the arsenal, and, it being after two o'clock, the time fixed for recommencing the bombardment, he became alarmed at the signs of pillage and destruction he saw around him and refused to go any farther. shortly after his departure the ramleh palace was surrounded by cavalry and infantry, about men in all; the first thought was of the loyal bedouins, who had been there in the morning and declared their fidelity; but it was soon discovered that arabi's people had distributed £ , amongst these and other loyalists to secure their absence; that the force was a hostile one, and that the khedive was left helpless with his handful of attendants. panic spread in the palace, and the numerous domestics were beside themselves with fear. the khedive showed complete calmness and self-possession, and, sending to the commander of the troops, inquired what he wanted. he replied that his orders were to guard the palace. the khedive then sent sultan pasha to arabi to ask the meaning of this proceeding. arabi was at rosetta gate when sultan pasha arrived with the message from the khedive. after some time toulba pasha reappeared at the palace with some of the ministers, who endeavoured to explain that the surrounding of the palace was a mistake, and that the officer in command should be punished. the situation remained unchanged until seven o'clock, when it was observed that the cavalry were preparing to depart--orders, it appeared, having been given that all troops should follow arabi. one officer, however, remained behind with about men. a general council was called at the palace, and it was determined to inform admiral seymour of the situation, and, if possible, get the khedive within reach of the fleet. this state of uncertainty and anxiety continued till the next morning, when the officer left in charge of the men came to his highness and declared himself to be loyal to the khedive. the khedive made him a firm and impressive speech. the other officers of his company were called up, and all swore loyalty and devotion, and kissed his highness's hand. a distribution of decorations followed, and confidence was restored. zohrab bey[ ] was then sent to inform the admiral that the khedive wished to return to ras-el-tin, and at once returned with the news that the admiral had sent a guard to assist him. tewfik then started for ras-el-tin palace, and in driving into the town had to make a _détour_ so as to enter by the moharrem bey gate. he was escorted by sixty or seventy cavalry, and preceded by a group of outriders carrying white flags on the points of their sabres. he had to pass _en route_ numerous bands of pillagers and incendiaries, and on reaching the palace was received by admiral seymour and a force of marines. in the meantime commander hammill's party of bluejackets and marines had landed without opposition. they reached the palace of ras-el-tin at a.m., seized the western end of the peninsula, occupied the arsenal, and threw out a line of sentries north and south extending from shore to shore. at . p.m. a small party of marines and a gatling's crew from the _monarch_ pushed on towards the town and guarded the streets in the immediate neighbourhood, making prisoners of natives who were seen looting inside the gates, and firing upon those more remote. in frank street they found every shop looted and burnt. the looters retreated before them, and dropped their plunder.[ ] the streets were strewn with the most miscellaneous articles--broken clock-cases, empty jewel-boxes, and fragments of all kinds. every now and then the party had to run up a side street to avoid the fall of a house or wall. bodies of europeans, stripped and mutilated, were seen in the place mehemet ali, in an advanced state of putrefaction.[ ] the work of incendiarism was still going on, and even the women were seen setting fire to houses with petroleum. the fires had occasioned enormous damage in the european quarter, where not a street was passable for any distance, all being more or less blocked by the smoking ruins of the fallen houses. walls were still tumbling down, and the hot air was opaque with lime-dust and smoke. the scenes on every side were appalling. the parts of alexandria which were found to have been destroyed, or which were destroyed in the next two days, included not only the grand square, or place mehemet ali, but all the streets leading from it to the sea, the rue cherif pasha and the rue tewfik pasha, with the adjoining streets. in the square itself the kiosques were destroyed; the statue of mehemet ali on horseback in the centre alone remained untouched. one side of the place de l'eglise, one side of the rue de la mosque d'attarin, a portion of the boulevards de ramleh and de rosette, and the whole of the northern portion of the rue de la bourse, were also consumed. in addition to these, most of the houses in the following thoroughfares were destroyed: rue osman pasha, rue de l'attarin, rue des soeurs, rue de l'enchere, and rue du prophete daniel. the french and austrian post offices were burned, together with the hôtel d'europe and the messageries hôtel;[ ] also the english, french, greek, portuguese, and brazilian consulates, the mont de piété, and one police-station. such of the european dwellings as were not burnt were looted from top to bottom; articles of furniture not easily removed were wantonly injured or destroyed. several of the native houses and shops also suffered in the general looting carried on. almost the only european dwellings untouched were the few in which europeans were known to have remained. the english church was struck by a shell, but not otherwise injured; the german, the coptic, the catholic, and the israelitish churches were also uninjured, except that the last-named received one shell. the theatres, the banks, and the tribunals escaped injury.[ ] it must be borne in mind that all this destruction was the work, not of the ships, but of the native population. the aim of the vessels, directed solely on the forts, had been so true that the damage done to the town by the half-dozen or so shells which struck it was insignificant, and, with the exception of the harem buildings at ras-el-tin, the british missiles did not create a single conflagration. at the same time it is difficult to hold admiral seymour quite blameless in the matter. so great was the demoralization of the egyptians that had the admiral, on his own initiative, landed but a few hundred of the , men on board his ships on the morning of the th, they could easily have occupied the town and averted the catastrophe. curiously enough, after the mischief was done, the admiralty on the th sent a telegram directly authorizing "a landing of seamen and marines for police purposes, to restore order." during the afternoon and evening the marines of the _superb_, _inflexible_, _temeraire_, _achilles_, and _sultan_ were added to the forces on shore. captain fisher, of the _inflexible_, took command of the whole force, and the patrolling of the city was begun. a company of royal marine artillerymen, armed as infantry, marched through the european and the arab quarters of alexandria. they shot some natives caught in the act of setting fire to houses, and also three of the native police, who were pillaging a house after having maltreated the berberine door-keeper. the _inflexible_, _temeraire_, and _achilles_ were stationed off ramleh to command the land approaches to alexandria from the southward and westward. on the th the _penelope_, with admiral hoskins, left for port saïd. of the events of the th, admiral seymour says, "employed during the whole of the day landing as many men as we could spare from the squadron, and by evening we had occupied the most important positions." alexandria being a walled town, the distribution of the force at captain fisher's disposal had to be governed by this fact, and was practically as follows:--at the ramleh station were marines from the _monarch_. at the rosetta gate were marines from the _temeraire_. at the moharrem bey gate were marines from the _alexandra_. at fort kom-el-dyk gate were marines from the _sultan_. at pompey's pillar gate were marines from the _superb_. at the gabari caracol gate were marines from the _achilles_. at the gabari railway station were marines and bluejackets from the _alexandra_. at the zaptieh and arsenal were marines from the _invincible_. as the streets were gradually explored the bodies of many europeans were discovered; others were found floating in the harbour. the corpses found in the streets were buried as quickly as possible. during this time the town was still being fired and looted in places. on the th the _minotaur_ arrived with admiral dowell, in command of the channel squadron, and a brigade of seamen and marines from her was at once disembarked. fort napoleon was occupied by gunners from the fleet. fort kom-el-dyk, which it was reported had been mined, was also occupied by bluejackets. a party of men from the _alexandra_ destroyed the guns at fort silsileh with gun-cotton.[ ] the german, american, and greek ships of war landed men to assist in restoring order. lord charles beresford was appointed chief of police, and persons found pillaging or setting fire to houses were brought before him and summarily dealt with. those guilty of pillaging were flogged, and incendiaries were sentenced to be shot. the american marines rendered much service in promptly disposing of incendiaries, and in blowing up houses with gunpowder to check the conflagration. in consequence of a rumour that arabi intended to attack the town, a large number of bluejackets and marines, with gatling guns, were landed, each ship reinforcing its detachment on shore. as a fact, arabi was busy entrenching himself at kafr dowar, and had no more thought of attacking the british forces than they had of making an onslaught on him. this, however, was not known to the british admiral, who at eleven p.m. telegraphed to the admiralty as follows:--"arabi pasha reported to be advancing on alexandria. i have telegraphed to port saïd to intercept ships from cyprus, and ordered them to call here on their way back." on the th the khedive summoned arabi to alexandria, which was a little like "calling up spirits from the vasty deep;" and arabi telegraphed from kafr dowar, by way of response, that "his highness would be glad to hear that recruits were coming in to assist him to fight the english." at the khedive's suggestion the admiral, on the th, despatched two ships to command aboukir in case arabi should attempt to cut the dyke there and let in the sea. the same day it was found necessary to re-embark the greek marines who had been landed to restore order, without, however, being very successful. the americans and the others, excepting the germans, likewise re-embarked. the germans remained on shore some days later, and were most useful. on the th fresh fires broke out in the town, and a party of bedouins, strong, appeared at gabari gate, bent upon looting. they succeeded in capturing a donkey, when they were fired on by a midshipman of the _alexandra_ and twelve seamen, and two of their number were killed. on the th further reinforcements arrived. the _tamar_ arrived with , marines from cyprus. the _agincourt_ and _northumberland_ (ironclads) arrived from port saïd with the th (south staffordshire) regiment, strong, and a battalion of the th rifles, , in all. the _salamis_, with general sir archibald alison and staff, also arrived, and the general assumed the command of the land forces, now numbering , men. on the same day, commander maude, of the _temeraire_, rode out to within yards of arabi's position at kafr dowar. at millaha junction, commander maude found several human bodies lying about in various stages of decomposition. there were signs of loot in all directions, and the bodies were evidently those of looters who had in their turn been robbed by the soldiers. the rebel camp was reported to consist of , men, with six batteries of rifled guns, one battery of gatlings, and marine artillery, besides bedouins. they were intrenching themselves behind earthworks on the line of railway. the khedive now announced that arabi had been suspended from his functions as minister of war. the ministry of foreign affairs, in communicating to the admiral the dismissal of arabi, stated that "the publication of the decree was deferred for fear of seeing reproduced in cairo and other towns the disorder which had taken place in alexandria." on the th, the troopship _orontes_ arrived from malta, but through some unaccountable blundering of the authorities, she came without a single soldier. by this time order was beginning to be re-established in alexandria; the fires, too, had either burnt themselves out or been extinguished. the egyptian post office was reopened in the town, and the work of clearing the streets was proceeded with rapidly. for this purpose many natives and others out of employment were utilized. the first day's work in street-clearing was marked by the first public execution. a negro, who had been caught setting fire to some houses, was, after a court-martial, tied to a tree in the place mehemet ali, and shot by a party of sailors. the people too began to return to the town. these, however, required to be watched, as they were almost to a man arabists, and ready to resume the work of incendiarism and plunder on the first opportunity. looters were still to be found lurking in odd corners, notably in the minet-el-bassel quarter, where there were stores containing sugar and grain. the sanitary condition of the town now began to give rise to apprehension. disagreeable odours, indicating the presence of dead bodies, were perceived proceeding from many of the houses. these were, no doubt, the victims of the pillagers, left to lie where they fell. on the th the land defence of the city was definitely assumed by the army, assisted at the rosetta gate by marines from the ships, and elsewhere by the bluejackets with their gatling guns. at this period it was found that the supply of provisions in alexandria was running short, and steps had to be considered for stopping the return of the european fugitives. chapter xiii. the situation. on the th july, dervish pasha, the sultan's envoy, whose pacifying mission to egypt had so signally failed, left alexandria for constantinople. on the th a proclamation was issued by admiral seymour, with the permission of the khedive. it announced that "orders had been given to officers commanding patrols to shoot any person taken in the act of incendiarism; that any person taken in the act of pillage would be sent to the zaptieh to be tried and punished; that any person taken a second time for the same offence would be shot; and that no person would be allowed to enter or leave the town after sunset." on the rd three natives and one greek were shot for incendiarism. it may be interesting to know how things were going on in the interior. omar pasha loutfi, governor of alexandria, returning from cairo, reported that he had seen europeans massacred, and their houses pillaged, at damanhour, tantah, and mehalleh. the governor also stated that he had seen a european and his wife murdered at the tookh station, half-an-hour distant by rail from cairo. according to an inquiry made by the prefect of police at tantah, the number of europeans murdered, and subsequently buried, in that town, amounted to fifty-one, and there were about an equal number massacred and thrown into the canal. at kafr zayat, six persons were killed. ten greeks and three jews were murdered at benha. disturbances also occurred at zag-a-zig, but no persons were killed there, although one was wounded. at galioub, a family was taken out of the railway train, put under the carriages, and crushed by the wheels. the inspector of the "cadastre" at mehalleh kebir reported that fifteen europeans were killed there. at kafr dowar also some europeans were massacred. the exact number is not known. five europeans were killed at mehalla-abou-ali. in cairo, omar loutfi found that the greatest excitement and panic prevailed. the prefects of menoufieh and garbieh, and the mudir (or governor) of galioubieh, were imprisoned in the citadel for obeying the khedive. a general council had been summoned at the ministry of the interior to consider the question of continuing the military preparations. it was attended by about a hundred pashas, ulemas, and merchants. after a number of violent speeches against the khedive, the coptic patriarch remarked that the assembly had as yet heard only one side of the question, viz., that of arabi, and that before coming to any decision it was necessary to hear the khedive's side as well. the views of the coptic patriarch were adopted by the majority of the assembly, which proceeded to nominate a delegation. the delegation consisted of ali pasha moubarek (a former minister) and five others, who were directed to proceed to alexandria to see the khedive, and ask his highness what truth there was in the charges of the arabists; they were also directed to ascertain whether all the ministers were really in prison, as had been stated. as regards the rebel military preparations, mahmoud pasha sami had been appointed commander-in-chief of the army corps stationed in the neighbourhood of the suez canal. arabi demanded that one-sixth of the male population of every province should be sent to kafr dowar. all old soldiers of every description were called upon to serve again, and horses and provisions were everywhere requisitioned for the army. "arabi's chief strength," wrote mr. cartwright, the acting british consul-general, "lay in his unscrupulous and barbarous mode of warfare." at the moment, there was such a terrible dread among the officials at the palace of what might happen to their property in cairo and elsewhere, that the khedive's action was paralyzed, and his highness was deterred from denouncing arabi as a rebel by his unwillingness to incur the consequences of arabi's retaliation. at an interview with the khedive, mr. cartwright endeavoured to represent to him the moral effect which such a denunciation would produce, and the encouragement it would afford to those who remained faithful to his highness. on the nd the khedive published a decree dismissing arabi from his post of minister of war, and proclaiming him a rebel. omar loutfi was appointed in his place. the reasons for arabi's dismissal as set forth in the decree were the insufficient resistance offered to the british fleet, the loss of guns, allowing the english to land without resistance, the retreat to kafr dowar, and his disobedience in not coming to the khedive when summoned. considering the relations existing between the khedive and the british forces at this time, the decree, issued at a period when tewfik was no longer under any sort of coercion, is as curious a specimen of an oriental document as generally comes to light. the proclamation itself may be regarded as a reply to one issued by arabi against the khedive, and transmitted to the governors of the various provinces in egypt. on the th, arabi telegraphed to the sultan protesting his fidelity to the khalifate, and saying, "that being provoked into a war, he was in possession of all that was necessary to overcome his enemies, thanks to the divine assistance." he added, "that he did not believe that, as the enemies of his country and religion asserted, he would find ottoman troops on his path, which would place him under the cruel necessity of treating as enemies his brethren in the faith." ali pasha moubarek succeeded in reaching alexandria. he reported that at kafr dowar large numbers of soldiers were flocking to arabi from the villages, arms were being distributed to all comers, and a total force of , men had been got together. raouf pasha, however, who came from the camp a few days later, gave the number of arabi's men as only , , and related that much sickness prevailed amongst them. on the rd august the official journal of cairo published the decision of a great national council of the week before, to the effect that-- "in consequence of the occupation of alexandria by foreign troops, of the presence of the english squadron in egyptian waters, and finally of the attitude taken up by arabi pasha for the purpose of repulsing the enemy, arabi pasha was to be upheld as minister of war and marine, intrusted with the general command of the egyptian army, and full authority in all that concerned military operations, and that the orders of the khedive and his ministers would be null and void." the document bore the signatures of the three princes ibrahim, ahmed, and kamil (cousins of the khedive), of the sheikh of the el azhar mosque, of the grand cadi of egypt, of the coptic patriarch, of the grand cadi of cairo, besides those of the ulemas and judges, and in fact all the notabilities left in cairo. on the th july, at the request of the foreign office, additional troops were ordered to malta and cyprus to bring up the forces there to , men; and the next day the british cabinet had so far realized the gravity of the situation as to decide on the despatch of an english expedition to egypt, with or without the consent of the powers. the vote of credit for the expedition, £ , , , was asked in parliament on the th july, mr. gladstone carefully explaining that the country "_was not at war_." the scots guards sailed for alexandria on the th july, the head of a column of ships and regiments which from that time until the occupation of the suez canal on the th august never ceased to stream towards its ultimate point of destination. the force was originally fixed at , men, composed as follows:--cavalry, , ; infantry, , ; artillery, , ; hospital and other non-combatant services, , , with a reserve of , , to sail at a later period. the entire force was to be under the command of general sir garnet wolseley, g.c.b., with general sir john adye, k.c.b., as second in command, and lieutenant-generals g. h. willis, c.b., and sir e. b. hamley as divisional commanders. one hundred men of the th middlesex (post office) volunteers were chosen to accompany the forces and take charge of the postal arrangements during the campaign.[ ] sir garnet wolseley's instructions were to take command of the army ordered for service in egypt in support of the authority of the khedive to suppress a military revolt in that country. he was told that her majesty's government did not wish to fetter his discretion as to the particular military operations which might be necessary, but that the main object of the expedition was to re-establish the power of the khedive. he was empowered, after successful operations against arabi and those in arms against the khedive, to enter into any military convention which the circumstances might warrant, but to make no arrangements involving a political settlement. in despatching the british expedition, mr. gladstone's government made a final plunge in the direction which they had from the first wished to avoid. no one can say that their intervention came too soon. the khedive on the th had sent for sir auckland colvin, who was the right-hand man of the acting british consul-general, and begged him to urge her majesty's government to take further action without delay. he pointed out that it was most necessary, as arabi's power had become so great as to spread terror and consternation in the minds of all the natives. his possession of the country, and especially of cairo, his highness added, left at his mercy the families and property of all who remained loyal to the khedive. his highness concluded by saying he should be glad to receive an intimation as to the steps which were contemplated. those steps, as has been seen, culminated in the despatch of the british expedition. the means by which the british government was gradually induced to adopt a resolute attitude in regard to egypt, and the degrees by which it arrived at a decision, will appear later on. the general feeling of uneasiness at alexandria was augmented by omar loutfi's report. it was further known that arabi's forces were daily increasing, and scouts ascertained that his outposts had been advanced in the direction of the town. repeated rumours of intended attacks from time to time prevailed, and scarcely a night passed without an alarm of one kind or another. the british authorities now began to employ themselves seriously in looking to the defences of the town, and on the th major ardagh and the engineers proceeded to repair the drawbridges, to mend the walls at kom-el-dyk, to mount guns at rosetta gate, to secure the railway station, and to place gatlings in position. three -pounder rifled guns were mounted in fort kom-el-dyk, as part of the permanent defences of the city, and manned by bluejackets from the fleet. on the th, a brisk wind fanned the embers of some of the ruins into flames, which occupied the fire brigade several hours to subdue. the water supply of alexandria at this time began to be a source of anxiety. the supply to the town comes from the mahmoudieh canal, which joins the rosetta branch of the nile at atfeh, forty-five miles distant. the canal itself adjoins the position taken by arabi at kafr dowar. throughout the bombardment, and subsequently, the town had been abundantly supplied by the efforts of mr. j. e. cornish, the manager. when, previous to the bombardment, all his countrymen, and the great mass of europeans, sought safety afloat, he refused to desert his post. he contrived an elaborate system of defence for the water-works. it comprised an arrangement for throwing jets of steam at any possible band of assailants, as well as a line of dynamite bombs, capable of being exploded by means of electricity. the upper part of the engine house was also converted into a kind of arsenal, into which he and his men could retire as a last resort, and where rifles and ammunition were in readiness. during the bombardment, the works happily escaped injury. subsequently, from the roof of the engine house, mr. cornish and his companions (nine europeans in all) watched the progress of the bombardment, until the shot and shell which whistled overhead from the vessels firing at fort pharos compelled them to descend. meanwhile, the pumps were kept going as in ordinary times. when, on the afternoon of the th, the mob of rioters left the town, the majority of them passed a few yards from the works, and indulged in curses and execrations at the "christian dogs" within. with humane forethought, two large jars of water were placed in front of the gate and kept supplied from within. thousands of thirsty natives, coming from the dust and smoke of the town, stopped to drink, and, after cursing the manager heartily, passed on. to whatever cause it may be attributed, no attack was made on the works, and their courageous director survived to receive the congratulations of the khedive and of his own countrymen.[ ] arabi's position at kafr dowar placed the water supply of alexandria at his mercy, and he was not long in taking advantage of the circumstance. on the st july, the water in the mahmoudieh canal was observed to be rapidly falling. arabi had made a dam, at a point called kinje osman, between kafr dowar and alexandria, by which all further flow from the nile was stopped. assuming that his operations were limited to this, the great quantity of water in the alexandria end of the canal insured a supply for about twelve days. it was rumoured, however, that he had broken the banks of the canal on the alexandria side. this would, of course, have soon cut off the supply altogether, and have caused much suffering among the population, beside forcing the troops to rely on the distilled water from the ships. in view of the emergency, admiral seymour appointed a commission to sit every day to consider the measures to be adopted. steps were taken to stop all the steam-engines and "sakeah" (or water-wheels) taking water from the canal for irrigation purposes, arrangements were made for clearing out and filling the old roman water-cisterns, and h.m.s. _supply_ was ordered from malta with the necessary apparatus for distilling water in large quantities. on the st, arabi caused salt water to be let into the mahmoudieh canal, by cutting the dam separating it from lake mareotis, thereby considerably aggravating the difficulty of the water supply. a rumour was started that the khedive's palace at ramleh had been looted by the english soldiery. major ardagh was instructed to hold a searching inquiry, the result of which was that the report was found to be utterly without foundation. the soldiers, individually, were searched, and no loot was discovered. the palace had, indeed, been looted to a large extent, as might have been expected from the fact that, from the time of its evacuation till the th, it was wholly unguarded.[ ] chapter xiv. military operations. on the st july sir archibald alison moved two regiments of infantry and a squadron of mounted men out to ramleh in the direction of arabi's intrenchments. they went as far as water-works hill, a commanding position from which a good view of the egyptian lines at kafr dowar could be obtained. on the morning of the nd a force of men of the rifles was pushed forward beyond millaha junction, on the cairo railway, to blow up the line. they met arabi's cavalry and exchanged shots with them. the egyptians fled, leaving two dead on the field. having finished the work intrusted to them, the rifles then withdrew. a strong patrol was the same day sent to ramleh. on the th, the troopship _malabar_ having arrived the previous day from gibraltar and malta with the th (duke of cornwall's light infantry) regiment, a wing of the th, and a battery of artillery, in all , men, sir archibald alison, at a.m., sent mounted infantry to the position intended to be occupied in front of the ramleh barracks. the general followed by the train of the alexandria and ramleh railway with the th rifles, two -pounder naval guns, and some sappers. on arriving he found the ridge running from the palace to the mahmoudieh canal occupied by the mounted infantry, and at once took possession of the water-works tower on the ridge, a strongly defensible building, and established outposts at the railway bridge, and at the front of the canal bend. shortly after the british troops were in position a small force of arabi's cavalry, followed by infantry, advanced towards the railway bridge, across the canal, within yards of the rifles. after exchanging shots for some time, the cavalry retired rapidly on the mahmoudieh canal. the enemy's advance then became more decided. a considerable force of cavalry with two horse-artillery guns pushed on rapidly, the guns coming briskly into action. the infantry followed, and the movements of a considerable body of troops were observed on the high ground behind. a fight ensued which lasted about an hour, several of the enemy being observed to drop. the attack, however, was not pushed home, and the firing gradually ceased. there were no casualties on the english side. ramleh was from this day occupied and held by the british forces. the work of fortifying it was begun at once, and prosecuted with vigour, for the force opposed to the english far outnumbered the latter at all times, and the need of the moment was to hold on until the army corps under general wolseley could be collected and transported to alexandria. it may be here mentioned that ramleh is not a village or town, but a species of summer resort for the european residents of alexandria, who have built houses and villas upon the sandy neck of land lying between lakes mareotis and aboukir on the one hand, and the mediterranean on the other. the houses are distributed over a length of some miles, and are mostly surrounded by high walled inclosures, with, in many cases, luxuriant gardens. between these scattered country villas the sand lay everywhere ankle-deep. there was an occasional pretence of a road, but, generally speaking, communication between any two points was in the straightest possible line, and over the sand. to supply the needed transit to and from the city, a private company has constructed the alexandria and ramleh railway, which has no connection, material or otherwise, with the government lines. an incidental advantage due to the military occupation of ramleh was the protection enjoyed by the ramleh railway, and by the owners of property in this quarter. the water-works at ramleh contain the pumping engines which deliver the fresh water for distribution from the mahmoudieh canal to the tower and reservoir just behind them on higher ground. these two points, the water-works and the tower, were the centre of the defence. a strong detachment was always maintained at the former, whilst the head-quarters were established at the latter. an elevation immediately in rear of the tower was strengthened, a trench dug, and a number of guns, viz., five breech-loading pounders and two -pounders, were mounted on the th by seamen from the fleet. a magazine was also sunk, and working parties ran a shelter trench along the crest of the rising ground, and this was gradually converted into a musketry parapet four and a half feet high. in this work places were arranged for the guns, the platforms being of railway sleepers and the parapets reveted with sand-bags and timber. small musketry redoubts were thrown up upon the flanks of the position. to the east and west were intrenched infantry camps. two -pounders of the naval detachment were mounted in the adjoining earthwork. the extreme eastern picket was placed in a fortified house, a mile and a half distant. its object was to serve as a feeler in the direction of aboukir. the egyptians could advance from kinje osman either by the road on the canal bank or by the railway embankment. the outpost on the former line was called "dead horse picket;" on the latter no regular picket was maintained beyond the iron railway bridge over the mahmoudieh canal, although vedettes were thrown out in the direction of millaha junction. as a barrier against a movement along the southern branch of the railway (that coming from the gabari station), a strong force was established at the villa antoniadis on the canal. inside the entrance to the villa garden was a semi-circular breastwork facing the villa, and reaching across the gateway. two b.l.r. -pounder guns were permanently mounted. these commanded the approach along the railway embankment. other stockades were built across the road to protect the rear, and temporary bridges were built across the canal. the walls of a deserted arab village on the other side were loopholed and otherwise defended. the general defence profited by the presence of the mahmoudieh canal, with its high banks, and by the railway embankment, which stretched from the antoniadis garden towards ramleh. for night-work an electric light was placed on the roof of a house at fleming station, on the ramleh railway, so as to illuminate the approaches from aboukir and kafr dowar. an ingenious device for reconnoitring was at this time adopted, in fitting out an armour-clad train in which to make reconnaissances towards arabi's lines. one of the government locomotives was armed under the direction of captain fisher, of the _inflexible_, with a -pounder gun, and fitted with boiler plates, iron rails, and bags of cotton to protect the vital parts. this, accompanied by two or three open carriages filled with bluejackets, rendered considerable service. it was frequently brought into action, and whilst able to considerably harass the enemy's forces at kafr dowar, never sustained any injury in return. at this time, mr. dudley de chair, midshipman of the _alexandra_, was captured and taken to arabi's lines. he had been ordered to proceed with despatches from alexandria to the british post at ramleh, following the line of rail. unfortunately, he went by the wrong line and found himself at mandara, some miles beyond his destination, where, meeting some natives, he inquired his way, and they undertook to direct him to the british lines, but taking advantage of his ignorance of the locality, they led him to an arab outpost, where he was made prisoner.[ ] on the st july, some bedouins, who had been pillaging the neighbouring houses, attacked the night pickets at ramleh with considerable energy, but were beaten off. in one of these skirmishes, what was taken to be the figure of a bedouin was seen under the palm trees. a whole volley was fired at the supposed enemy, which proved to be only a pump. when examined closely the next morning the pump was found not to have received a single bullet. on the following night, the bedouins returned and attacked a picket of the th rifles, posted at the extreme limit of the british position on the mahmoudieh canal. the picket, uncertain of the strength of the attacking force, fired a single volley and fell back on the pumping-station, a mile distant. reinforcements were sent, and the position was reoccupied.[ ] on the th august, the first serious engagement of the campaign took place, when sir archibald alison, being desirous of ascertaining the enemy's true position and strength, made a reconnaissance towards kinje osman. a half battalion of the duke of cornwall's regiment and a half battalion of the th (south staffordshire) regiment, in all, with one -pounder gun and the mounted infantry, numbering , were told off to advance along the east bank of the mahmoudieh canal.[ ] six companies of the th rifles, about strong, with one -pounder gun, formed the centre, and were to advance along the west bank. these constituted the left attack. they were to follow the line of the canal till they reached a house in a grove of trees towards the point where the cairo railway approaches nearest to the canal. along the line of rail a battalion of marines, , in number, was to come up by train to millaha junction, preceded by the armoured train carrying one -pounder, two -pounder guns, a nordenfeldt, and two gatlings, this formed the right attack. the train was to stop at millaha junction. the marines were ordered to descend there and advance by the railway line, accompanied by the two -pounders and covered by the fire of the -pounder from the train. the ground beyond millaha junction between the canal and railway was occupied by native houses and gardens, and traversed in all directions by small irrigating canals or ditches. here were the egyptian outposts, the point of attack. it was a place admitting of very thorough defence, and it gained in practical value by the fact that the attack was divided by the mahmoudieh canal into two parts, which could only pass from one side to the other with great difficulty and at considerable risk. an enemy on the alert might have routed the extreme left column before any assistance could have been rendered by the right. the left column commenced its advance from the ramleh out-picket station at . p.m., moving by both banks of the canal. it soon came into action with the enemy, who were strongly posted in a group of palm trees on the eastern side, and a strong defensible house and gardens on the western side, of the canal. the egyptian fire was very inaccurate, most of their bullets passing harmlessly overhead. both positions were carried, though not without the loss of lieutenant howard vyse, of the rifles, who was killed. the enemy then took up another position half a mile in the rear of the first upon the east bank of the canal, amongst high crops and houses, and behind the irregular banks of the canal. from this position also they were driven back. general alison accompanied the right column himself. the marines and -pounder guns, dragged by bluejackets, were placed to the west and under cover of the railway embankment, and moved forward as rapidly as possible, and quite out of sight of the enemy engaged with the left column, with a view to cutting off their retreat. after a time this movement was perceived, and the enemy opened fire with artillery on the right column. general alison pushed on as rapidly as possible to the spot where the railway approaches nearest to the mahmoudieh canal. he then opened fire with musketry from the railway embankment upon the enemy lining the banks of the canal. the two -pounders were dragged on to the embankment and came into action against the enemy's guns, the -pounder from the train firing overhead against the point where the enemy were beginning to appear. fixing his right upon both sides of the embankment, alison then threw forward two companies to carry a house near the canal, and followed up this movement by throwing some four companies still more to his left on the banks of and across the canal. the left column, it appears, had orders to seize a certain white house on the canal, but its commander, lieutenant-colonel thackwell, of the th, mistook the first white house reached for the one intended. in consequence, the left of the marines was uncovered and the substantial benefits of the fight lost. had the two wings joined many prisoners would have been secured, and two guns, if not more, been captured. signals were made to the left wing to advance, but the smoke of the battle and the failing light prevented their being understood. as it was, sir archibald succeeded in taking up a position forming a diagonal line across both the canal and the railway, the enemy falling back slowly before him. the fire of their -pounder and -pounder guns was soon got under by the fire of the english bluejackets. desirous of inducing the egyptians to develop their full power before withdrawing, the general held his position for about three-quarters of an hour, until dusk was drawing on. the order to retire was then given. the movement was carried out with the most perfect regularity and precision by the marine battalion under colonel tuson, and the men fell back by alternate companies with the regularity of a field-day. every attempt of the enemy to advance was crushed by the excellent practice of the -pounder and -pounder naval guns under commander henderson. the right column was quickly _entrained_ at the junction, and slowly steamed back to alexandria; at the same time the left column withdrew along the banks of the canal to the ramleh lines unmolested. the british loss in the engagement was one officer and three men killed and twenty-seven men wounded. the egyptian loss was given by a deserter who, four days later, made his way from arabi's camp to alexandria, as three officers and seventy-six men killed, and a large number wounded. according to the prisoners' statements, which had to be received with some caution, the egyptian force engaged was , strong. the egyptians next erected earthworks at mandara, between ramleh and aboukir. they, however, overlooked the fact that the place was accessible from the sea, and the _superb_ having been sent round, shelled them out without difficulty. chapter xv. the conference. it is now necessary to go back a little, to consider the diplomatic steps taken by the powers in view of the crisis in egypt. on receiving the news of the bombardment, the sublime porte was so impressed with the gravity of the situation that a council sat continuously for twenty-four hours at the palace, and separated without arriving at any conclusion. on the th july, however, the sultan's advisers had so far recovered themselves that the turkish ambassador was instructed to protest, and to demand of the english government the withdrawal of the forces landed in egypt. in reply lord dufferin stated that the bombardment was an act of self-defence, and that the seamen and marines were landed for the purpose of restoring order, and with no view to a permanent occupation. "they were, and continued to be, necessary for the defence of the khedive," said his lordship, "in the absence of all steps by the sultan to maintain his own authority and that of his highness." lord dufferin concluded by observing that "her majesty's government were desirous to maintain the sovereignty of the sultan over egypt, but that if his majesty took no steps to vindicate his authority, and objected to the provisional measures taken by england and the other powers, it would be difficult to find arguments for the continuance of the existing arrangement." in order to understand what were "the provisional measures" referred to, it is necessary to consider the proceedings of the constantinople conference, which had in the meantime assembled. when, in may, france and england had at length agreed to send their vessels of war to alexandria, it was at lord granville's suggestion proposed that if it was found advisable that troops should be landed, turkish troops should be called for, but france objected and the proposal dropped. when the khedive and his ministry became reconciled the porte addressed a circular to its representatives abroad, arguing that the egyptian ministry having submitted to the khedive, the crisis no longer existed, and the naval demonstration was unnecessary. lord dufferin was instructed to calm the apprehensions of the sultan as to the character and objects of the naval demonstration. he succeeded so well that said pasha stated that his majesty was willing to discuss with the western powers any arrangements that they might suggest for the maintenance of the _status quo_ in egypt, upon the understanding that the presence of the fleets should be restricted to the shortest possible period. when admiral seymour complained of earthworks being thrown up alongside his ships, the french government on the th may proposed an immediate conference on egyptian affairs. this proposal was accepted by lord granville, and invitations to the conference were issued the same day. considerable delay ensued in regard to the meeting of the conference, owing to the opposition of turkey, which refused to join, and persisted in maintaining that the mission of dervish pasha having effected a satisfactory settlement, there was really nothing left to discuss. eventually the conference met on the rd june at constantinople, without the participation of the porte. the powers were represented by the different ambassadors at constantinople, and lord granville, in the apparent desire to tie the hands of the british government as much as possible, irrespective of future eventualities, succeeded in getting all the powers represented to sign a self-denying protocol, by which each engaged "not to seek, in any arrangement which might be made in consequence of the concerted action for the regulation of the affairs of egypt, any territorial advantage, nor any concession of any exclusive privilege, nor any commercial advantage other than those which any other nation might equally obtain." on the th june, the position of admiral seymour with regard to the forts in course of being armed by arabi being explained to the conference, it was agreed that so long as the conference lasted the powers should abstain from isolated action in egypt, with the reservation of _force majeure_, such as the necessity for protecting the lives of their subjects. on the th the conference met again, when the critical situation in egypt was dwelt upon, and the english representative explained that under the words _force majeure_ he should include any sudden change or catastrophe which menaced british interests. notwithstanding the pressure put upon the sultan at this time to induce him to send a force to egypt, he still hesitated. his anxiety seemed to be to avoid doing anything himself, and at the same time to prevent intervention by any one else. he reminded the english ambassador that at his request the porte had ordered the egyptians to discontinue the fortifications at alexandria, and in return asked that the warlike preparations of the british fleet should be stopped. on the th of july, the conference met again and agreed on the terms of an "identic note" to be addressed to the porte, fixing the conditions on which the porte should be invited to send turkish troops to egypt as a provisional measure to restore order. on the th the sultan's minister of foreign affairs begged the english ambassador from considerations of humanity to enjoin admiral seymour not to do anything precipitate at alexandria. lord dufferin curtly replied that "the egyptian authorities had the matter completely in their own hands. they had only to do what was required of them, and not a shot would be fired." lord dufferin added the question, "why was the sultan not there with his troops to keep them in order?" on the th the porte was so far alarmed at what was going on at alexandria as to send a despatch to musurus pasha, in london, pointing out that admiral seymour's statements respecting the alexandria armaments were denied by the egyptian authorities, and begging that the british admiral might be directed to adopt a line of action more in conformity with the peaceful and conciliatory feelings which animated the ottoman government and the court of st. james. on the th lord dufferin intimated to the porte that it was the intention of admiral seymour to open fire upon the batteries of alexandria unless there was a temporary surrender of the forts for the purpose of disarmament. the sultan replied that he would send a categorical answer on the following day. at the same time he requested that the bombardment might be delayed. said pasha called on lord dufferin in the middle of the night ( a.m. on the morning of the th), urging him to send a telegram to the british government to order the bombardment to be arrested. the british ambassador transmitted the message. it arrived too late. the bombardment had already taken place. as lord dufferin, in a letter to said pasha in the course of the following day, observed, "when such grave issues were at stake, it was unwise to run things so fine." on the th the sultan's minister informed his lordship that the bombardment having added to the gravity of the situation, he was not in a position to make any communication, but that the council were still deliberating as to the course to be pursued. this was the council referred to at the beginning of the present chapter, which sat for twenty-four hours, and decided nothing. on the th said pasha asked if an intimation to the powers of the sultan's intention to go to egypt would be well received. lord dufferin said in reply that at one time he was certainly of that opinion, and that even then it might not be too late, provided his majesty would authorize a commissioner to enter the conference. on the same day all the powers represented at the conference presented the identic note to the porte, inviting it to send troops to egypt to assist the khedive to re-establish order. the sultan, on receiving the note, observed that if the imperial government had not up to the present decided on its own initiative to send troops, it was because it was convinced that measures of force could be dispensed with. he also announced that his government now consented to take part in the conference. on the th july lord lyons was instructed to inform m. de freycinet that, in view of the uncertainty which prevailed as to the movements of arabi and his forces, her majesty's government had telegraphed to the british admiral at port saïd, authorizing him to concert with the french admiral for the protection of the suez canal, and to act in the event of sudden danger. in reply, the french minister stated that the french admiral would be instructed to concert measures with the english admiral for the protection of the canal, but that the french government could not, without the sanction of the chambers, authorize him to act. on the th appearances became still more threatening. the admiralty received a despatch from admiral hoskins reporting the arrival at port saïd of ali pasha fehmi,[ ] whom arabi had nominated governor-general of the suez canal. this was followed by another, announcing that arabi had called upon all mussulmans to rise. lord granville thereupon urged the french government to give their admiral full discretion by telegraph in view of any emergency. in reply, m. de freycinet informed the british minister that he regretted very much to be unable to comply. on the th the news from egypt assumed a yet more serious character, and lord dufferin was instructed to inform the sultan that after the delay which had occurred he could only hope to recover the confidence of her majesty's government by the immediate issue of a proclamation in favour of the khedive, and denouncing arabi as a rebel. whatever might have been the sultan's views with regard to arabi, he was not at the time disposed to comply with the ambassador's request. accordingly, his majesty said that the issue of such a proclamation as was suggested might not be a bad thing, and then turned the conversation to some other subject. the same day news came of the blocking of the mahmoudieh canal, of the issue of proclamations against the khedive by arabi, and of the military preparations being made by him. at a meeting of the conference, the english and french ambassadors presented proposals relative to the measures to be adopted _for the protection_ of the _suez canal_, and asked the conference to designate the powers who should be charged, in case of need, to take the measures specially necessary for the purpose. the four other representatives reserved to themselves the right of referring the matter to their respective governments. on the th july her majesty's government ordered the despatch of the expedition to egypt. on the st the austrian government declined to join in giving to other powers the _mandat_ proposed for the defence of the canal. on the nd lord granville made the following proposal to the french government:-- . unless the porte sends an acceptance of a kind immediately available, the english and french representatives should be instructed to say to the other ambassadors that england and france can no longer rely upon turkish intervention; and as they consider immediate action necessary to _prevent further loss of life and continuance of anarchy_, they intend, unless the conference has any other plan, to devise with a third power, if possible, military means for procuring a solution. . to ask italy to be that third power. . to consult immediately upon the division of labour. . the suez canal may be included in the general scheme of allied action.[ ] m. de freycinet, in reply, cautiously stated that the french government understood that the measures to be taken by them for the protection of the canal would not extend to any expedition into the interior of the country, but would be limited to naval operations, and to the occupation of certain points on the canal itself; _and that although they would not object to an expedition by england into the interior of egypt_, they could not themselves take part in any such expedition. he added that before giving an official answer he must bring the matter before the council of ministers. the german chargé d'affaires stated to lord dufferin and the french ambassador, in very positive terms, that the northern governments would never agree to a mandate, that it would be better for england to go forward at once by herself, and that every one admitted that the reserve made under the term _force majeure_ would cover anything that she might be obliged to do in egypt. on the rd july the sultan determined to allow said pasha and assim pasha to represent him at the conference. at the meeting, the following day, the two ottoman delegates took their seats, and the other delegates having given the turkish representatives to understand that a formal answer was expected to the identic note of the th july, the turkish minister declared that "he accepted in principle the despatch of ottoman troops to egypt." this statement, made at the eleventh hour, was not without its effect on the different great powers. as a fact, with the exception of england, and possibly france, none of them desired to meddle either directly or indirectly in egyptian matters, and they were glad of the pretext to let england settle egypt alone. the austrian government notified that, "in case the sultan refused to send his troops to egypt, austria would be even less disposed to join in asking other governments to act as european _mandataires_, for the general maintenance of order, than to do so for the protection of the suez canal." on the th july italy was invited to co-operate with england and france in the steps to be taken for the protection of the canal. the italian minister, m. mancini, thanked her majesty's government for the proof of confidence and friendship afforded by their invitation to her, but thought that at the moment when turkey had accepted all the conditions of a note to which england and italy were parties, it would be a contradiction for those two powers to enter into engagements as to another form of intervention. on the th m. de freycinet, being pressed for a formal answer to the proposal made for the joint military intervention, answered that for the moment the french government could not go beyond the projected co-operation for the protection of the suez canal. on the th a bill was brought into the chamber of deputies to enable the french government to carry into effect arrangements with england for a joint protection of the canal. the amount asked for was , , francs. the result was a most stormy debate, which was adjourned amid much excitement. chapter xvi. the porte and the powers. on the th july said pasha formally announced that the sublime porte, resolved to give effect to its incontestable sovereign rights over egypt, had decided to send immediately a sufficient number of troops. this was communicated to the conference at its sitting the same day. said pasha admitted, on being pressed, that the despatch of the troops could only be the result of an understanding arrived at between the powers. the british and french ambassadors then made the following declaration:--"france and england have communicated to the conference their views, which have also been communicated to the different cabinets, and their proposals having encountered no objections, the two powers are at present agreed that in the present state of affairs they are ready, if necessity arises, to employ themselves _in the protection of the suez canal_, either alone, or with the addition of any power which is willing to assist." at a meeting on the th, the representatives of the porte communicated a declaration to the effect that having again informed the members of the conference that the imperial government was on the point of sending troops to egypt, the government earnestly hoped that, in face of this determination, the existing foreign occupation of that country would be abandoned as soon as the ottoman troops should arrive at alexandria. in reply, lord dufferin was instructed to say that her majesty's government could neither withdraw their troops, nor relax their preparations; adding that the arrival and co-operation of turkish forces in egypt would be accepted by england, provided the character in which they came was satisfactorily defined beforehand. at this period, it must be borne in mind that the british expeditionary forces had already started, and the ministry of mr. gladstone had now no desire to have the turkish troops, for which they had previously professed so much anxiety. it was, however, necessary to keep up appearances, and to find from time to time plausible pretexts to prevent the sultan from carrying out his determination. in effecting the desired object lord dufferin, as will be seen, found means to throw such difficulties in the way as to prevent the despatch of a turkish army to egypt. the views of germany were also at the same time communicated to lord granville, and were stated to him as being that the sultan had the first claim to exercise the proposed protection. in the event of his being unwilling or unable to do so, the powers interested in the canal would be justified in acting themselves. if those powers had the intention of protecting their own interests in the canal, germany could not take upon herself any responsibility for the measures to be taken for this purpose. finally austria, russia, and italy adopted the same view as germany. on the th the adjourned debate on the vote of , , francs for the despatch of french troops to egypt for the protection of the canal took place in the french chamber of deputies. the force, it was explained, was to be , men and two gunboats. the ministers pointed out that all that was intended was to occupy one or two points of the canal. france would be charged with the surveillance of the canal between port saïd and ismailia, and england of the part between ismailia and suez. the vote was violently opposed, and in the end rejected by a majority of against the government. the debate was wound up by a remarkable speech from m. clemenceau, who said,--"messieurs, la conclusion de ce qui se passe en ce moment est celle-ci, l'europe est couverte de soldats, tout le monde attend, toutes les puissances se réservent leur liberté pour l'avenir; réservez la liberté d'action de la france." lord granville, seeing that all hope of french co-operation was gone, intimated to m. de freycinet that, although her majesty's government accepted the co-operation of turkey, it would nevertheless proceed with its own measures. "that then," said the french minister, "is _intervention à deux_." on the st august lord dufferin informed the turkish minister, in reply to his request that the british expedition should be countermanded, that it was useless for him to base any of his calculations on the supposition either that the troops would be countermanded, or that the british _corps d'armée_ would leave egypt until order had been completely re-established. the minister said with reference to the proclamation against arabi, that he thought it would be advisable to defer it until after the turkish troops were landed. lord dufferin answered that if the proclamation was not previously issued, no turkish troops would be allowed to land in egypt. the ambassador said, "if the sultan desired to co-operate with england it was necessary he should first clearly define the attitude he intended to assume towards arabi and the rebellious faction." on the same day the ottoman plenipotentiaries delivered to the other members of the conference the reasons for the porte not issuing the desired proclamation declaring arabi a rebel. the principal passage was as follows:--"it is, therefore, quite natural to suppose that a proclamation which would accuse a subject of his imperial majesty the sultan, who, at a moment when he showed fidelity and devotion to his sovereign, was the object of distinctions, would derive its force from the immediate presence of the material factor, the absence of which at the time of its publication would render its provisions barren." orders were sent to the english admiral that, until the porte should have entered into an agreement with her majesty's government for the issue of a proclamation by the sultan in support of tewfik pasha, and denouncing arabi as a rebel, and should have signed a military convention for the co-operation of the turkish troops, no turkish troops could be allowed to land in egypt. on the th lord dufferin formally notified this to the ottoman delegates, and said pasha intimated that he fully understood the grave nature of the communication. on the nd two large turkish transports started at night from constantinople for salonica with stores, provisions, and details of troops. two other steamers left the same night, one for smyrna, the other for the dardanelles. on the rd other transports, with soldiers on board, left also at night, and two more transports commenced taking on board stores, ammunition, &c. on the th two transports with men and stores left the golden horn for suda bay, in crete. a third was to leave the same evening. it became known that dervish pasha was to command the force, taking four other generals with him. they were to leave in the _izzedin_ for salonica. the fleet was to rendezvous either at rhodes or suda bay. in consequence of the foregoing, admiral seymour was instructed, if any vessel with turkish troops appeared at port saïd, alexandria, or elsewhere, to request the officer in command, with the utmost courtesy, to proceed to crete or some other place, and apply to the turkish government for further instructions, as seymour was precluded from inviting them to land in egypt. he was further instructed to prevent their landing if they declined to comply with his advice. on the th the ottoman delegates made the following declaration to the conference: "the sublime porte accepts the invitation for a military intervention in egypt made to it by the identic note of the th july, as well as the clauses and conditions contained therein." on the th said pasha informed lord dufferin that the sublime porte was disposed to issue the proclamation against arabi, and that he, the minister, was authorized to negotiate the military convention. he also stated that, by reason of the importance of the events in egypt, the ottoman troops would leave on the th. lord dufferin, on the th august, informed the sultan's government that before any other step was taken the british government adhered to the necessity for the issue of a properly-worded proclamation. on the th the draft of the proposed proclamation was sent to lord dufferin for approval. on the th sir garnet wolseley arrived at alexandria. at the meeting of the conference on the th of august, the representatives of the powers having expressed their opinion that the moment had come to suspend the labours of the conference, the ottoman delegates, apparently still anxious to be on the opposition side, stated that they did not share in this opinion, and reserved the right of informing the others of the date of the next meeting. on the th august, lord dufferin was informed, with reference to the negotiations for the military convention, that her majesty's government would have no objection to a part of the turkish troops being landed at damietta or rosetta, should the turkish government desire it. on the next day the turkish government, instead of accepting at once the military convention, began to make efforts to get it laid before the conference. these failed, however, thanks to lord dufferin, who contended that the engagement was one between england and turkey alone. the foregoing brings the narrative of events down to the eve of sir garnet wolseley's sailing for the canal. chapter xvii. wolseley's move to the canal. on the th august the khedive issued a proclamation against arabi and the rebels generally. the same day the khedive addressed a letter to the president of the council of ministers, announcing his intention to indemnify the sufferers by the recent events. at this period the european population was flocking back to alexandria in such numbers that mr. cartwright, the british consul-general, deemed it necessary to make strong representations on the subject to the representatives in egypt of the several powers. a system of examination of passports was now established, and people of suspicious character, or who were unable to show that they had some employment, or other means of subsistence, were forced by the authorities to re-embark. alexandria was now fast filling with british troops, and fresh detachments were disembarking daily. on the th august, sir john adye, chief of the staff, arrived at alexandria with the duke of connaught. the whole of the brigade of guards arrived two days later, and astonished the people by their size and martial appearance as they marched through the town to ramleh. the duke of connaught rode at their head. egypt in the present generation had never seen such soldiers before, and loud were the expressions of admiration on all sides. the stalwart pipers particularly impressed the natives. the brigade consisted of the nd battalions of the grenadier and coldstream guards, and the st battalion of the scots guards. the force was encamped on a piece of desert land at ramleh, near the sea, between the stations of bulkeley and fleming on the ramleh railway. sir garnet wolseley reached egypt on the th in the _calabria_. he had made the voyage by sea on account of his health. major-general sir evelyn wood arrived the same day. transports were coming in rapidly, and everything pointed to an immediate advance upon kinje osman and kafr dowar. the following is a list of the principal officers in the expeditionary force:-- general-commanding-in-chief: sir garnet j. wolseley. chief of the staff: general sir john adye. officer commanding royal artillery: brigadier-general w. h. goodenough. officer commanding royal engineers: brigadier-general c. b. p. n. h. nugent. command of base and lines of communication: major-general w. earle. st division: lieutenant-general g. h. s. willis. st brigade: major-general h.r.h. the duke of connaught. nd brigade: major-general g. graham. nd division: lieutenant-general sir e. b. hamley. rd brigade: major-general sir archibald alison. th brigade: major-general sir h. evelyn wood. garrison of alexandria: major-general g. b. harman. cavalry division: major-general drury-lowe. sir garnet wolseley lost but little time after landing. he made a hasty inspection of the position at ramleh, and gave his orders. on the th august the guards division, the household cavalry, the th rifles, and the th regiment marched in from ramleh and commenced embarking, the troops of the second division taking their places at ramleh. the manchester regiment landed and took over police duty in the town, relieving the berkshire regiment, which joined general wood's division at ramleh. at . a.m. the greater part of the british force was embarking. the troops selected were the first division under general willis. several transports the same day steamed out of harbour and anchored off the boghaz pass. the following day, the th, the transports, escorted by the ironclads _alexandra_, _inflexible_, _minotaur_, _superb_, and _temeraire_, steamed away in a stately procession to the eastward. both sir garnet wolseley and admiral seymour accompanied the force. it was given out that aboukir was to be the place of attack, and at . p.m., on arriving off the bay, the ships, with the exception of the _alexandra_, _euphrates_, _rhosina_, and _nerissa_, which pushed on to port saïd, anchored in regular lines according to a prearranged plan, the men-of-war being nearest the shore. the ironclads struck their topmasts, and made other preparations for an attack. every facility had been given to newspaper correspondents to obtain such details as might prudently be made public without exciting too much suspicion of a _ruse de guerre_. it succeeded perfectly. not only the europeans, but the enemy, were completely deceived. the gunners in the forts at aboukir stood to their guns, expecting every moment the fleet would open fire. after dark the troopships moved off to the east, followed later on by the men-of-war. when day broke the whole fleet had disappeared. as rapidly as possible the fleet steamed for port saïd. the transports _rhosina_ and _nerissa_ had singularly bad luck, the last two breaking down _en route_. the delay was not serious, for their escort the _alexandra_ towed the _nerissa_ at the rate of twelve knots an hour, whilst the _euphrates_ helped the _rhosina_. the next morning the whole fleet arrived at port saïd, when they found the entire maritime canal in the hands of the british navy. it may now be convenient to refer to what had in the meantime been taking place on the canal. on the th july, mr. j. e. wallis, the british consul at port saïd, received instructions to warn british subjects to embark. next morning a large number of europeans took refuge in vessels in the harbour. a report was spread of troops being ordered from damietta, and some alarm prevailing, the governor issued a circular assuring everybody that there was no danger. on the th, whilst the bombardment was going on at alexandria, the port saïd refugees remained on board ship. the town was quiet and orderly. the british despatch vessel _iris_ acted as guardship during this period. the egyptian corvette _sakha_ had arrived from alexandria a day or two previous to the bombardment. her captain was an arabist of the most pronounced type. immediately after her arrival telegraphic information reached the authorities and the canal company's officials that the _sakha_ had a considerable quantity of dynamite on board, intended to be used against vessels entering the canal. the _iris_, which had taken up a berth inside the harbour, shifted berth, and her commander, captain seymour, moored his ship opposite the _sakha_, the better to watch her movements. a great noise was observed on board the egyptian vessel at night, the men moving up and down as if transporting heavy cases. the next morning captain seymour called on her captain, and on inquiring the reason of the commotion, was informed that the men were "practising." captain seymour replied that, considering the troubled state of the country, practising at such an unusual hour was calculated to create an alarm on shore, and expressed a hope that it would be discontinued. "i am the only master on board my own ship," was the egyptian commander's reply. "in that case," captain seymour replied, "i shall be under the painful necessity of either seizing your ship or of sinking her." from that moment no further night exercise was indulged in, and hostilities were avoided, though both ships remained with their guns pointed at each other. the commander of the _iris_ took the further precaution of placing a torpedo in a position which would enable him to blow up the egyptian vessel at any moment. after this, nothing of importance occurred for some days. the naval force at port saïd was strengthened by the arrival of the _penelope_--the flagship of admiral hoskins--and the _monarch_, _agincourt_, and _achilles_. on the th july the british government notified that british merchant ships might go through the canal if clear. on the th british gunboats commenced to convoy vessels. on the th the french government authorized their gunboats to be employed on similar service. this was followed by the like arrangements on the part of germany and italy. the english ironclad _orion_, captain r. o. b. fitz-roy, arrived from alexandria, _en route_ to ismailia, on the th, and at once attempted to enter the canal. several objections were made by the canal company to her doing so. more than once she got under way, and was stopped under various pretexts. the last objection was that the _coquette_ being already in lake timsah, there was no room for another vessel of war. eventually, having embarked officers and men from the _agincourt_, the _orion_ entered the canal, ostensibly bound for suez, and at p.m. on the th she reached lake timsah. captain fitz-roy took his ship out of the hands of the pilot, and anchored her about yards from the town of ismailia. on the th the governor and sub-governor of port saïd, fearing that their lives were in danger from the military party, took refuge on board the p. and o. s.s. _poonah_. the town of port saïd was, in consequence, left completely in the hands of the supporters of arabi. nevertheless, though considerable anxiety prevailed, no outbreak took place. on the th the german gunboat _move_ was ordered to take part in the patrolling of the canal. on the st july admiral hoskins telegraphed that the french admiral at port saïd was ordered to suspend action, and the french ironclad _thétis_ was to leave ismailia. rigid neutrality was to be observed. on the rd august admiral hoskins was directed for the present to confine his operations on the suez canal to maintaining the _status quo_, and not to land except for the protection of british subjects, or in the event of any attempt being made to block the canal, as to which he was allowed discretion. this reservation, he was informed, was only temporary, and was contingent upon future military requirements. on the th the ships of war off port saïd comprised the _penelope_, _agincourt_, _monarch_, and _northumberland_ armoured ships, the _tourmaline_ and _carysfort_ sloops, and the _ready_ and beacon gun-vessels. the _don_ and _dee_, river gunboats, arrived a day or two later. what had been taking place at suez was reported in a letter from mr. west, the british consul, to lord granville, from which the following are extracts:-- "the whole of the british residents, with one or two exceptions, had taken refuge afloat, and were living in discomfort on board boats, barges, and lighters in the open roadstead. her majesty's ship _euryalus_ arrived on the th. "admiral sir william hewett, who, on the nd august, had under his command in the suez roads the following ships of her majesty's fleet, viz., the _euryalus_, _eclipse_, _ruby_, _dragon_, _mosquito_, and _beacon_, then decided to act, and i went on shore with a proclamation to be delivered to the acting governor, informing him that the place had been occupied by british forces, which occupation was effected without opposition or resistance on the part of the native soldiers. the town was then occupied by the marines and bluejackets, about men in all. the few native soldiers in the place got away in the train that was about to leave suez with more fugitives. the governor's dwelling and public offices were guarded by marines; the victoria hospital, and commanding positions in the environs of suez, were also held by the british forces." to return to ismailia, where, as above stated, the _orion_ had arrived on the th july. the place was found perfectly tranquil, but the telegraph being in the hands of arabi's people, captain fitz-roy could get no news or telegrams. the _coquette_ was anchored, by captain fitz-roy's orders, off the lock-gates of the fresh water canal, with orders to report everything going in and coming out. by this means information was obtained that arabi was receiving daily several boat-loads of coal. on the th h.m.s. _carysfort_ arrived from port saïd. lake timsah was patrolled at night by a steam-launch with an armed crew, which moved about twice in every watch. the _orion's_ electric light was also used during the first and middle watches of the night, and turned on the arab guardhouse outside ismailia. on the nd august egyptian troops, estimated at about , arrived at nefiché junction, and encamped outside the railway station. from the th, torpedo and picket-boats were employed to keep up communication with suez and port saïd. the guns of the different vessels were cleared for action every night, and the marines and small-arms men kept in readiness to land. on the th the egyptian force at nefiché was largely reinforced. several refugees came off to the ships. on the th, with a view to assist in the contemplated landing, the compass-bearing and distance of the camp at nefiché were taken during the day from the masthead of the _carysfort_, and one of the _orion's_ -ton guns was laid accordingly. to secure sufficient elevation to carry the projectile over the intervening sand-hills, the vessel's port boilers were emptied and shot removed, so as to give the ship a strong list to starboard. the same night the crews of the vessels were mustered at o'clock in working dress, with ammunition and provisions all ready for landing. the foregoing narrative brings the history of events down to the eve of the british forces taking possession of the canal. chapter xviii. de lesseps and the canal. the history having now been brought to the period when the suez canal was occupied by the british forces, it may be interesting to refer to the attitude assumed by m. ferdinand de lesseps, the president of the canal company, and to show how his communications with the rebel leaders led the latter to postpone until too late the steps resolved on for the destruction of the canal. de lesseps from the first opposed any interference with the canal by the british forces. the earliest indication of his views was afforded immediately before the alexandria bombardment. when that operation was impending, admiral seymour warned british ships not to enter the canal in case of hostilities. in consequence of this warning eleven ships were stopped at port saïd and suez on the th july. m. victor de lesseps, the company's agent at ismailia, thereupon protested against what he termed "this violation of the neutrality of the canal." on the same day, m. de lesseps, then in paris, communicated to the british ambassador there, and to all the other representatives of the powers, a copy of the telegraphic instructions which had on the th july been sent to the agent of the company at ismailia. their effect was that any action or warlike demonstration in the canal was forbidden, and that "its neutrality had been proclaimed by the firman of concession, and had been recognized and acted upon during the two last wars between france and germany and russia and turkey." a very slight examination of the question will suffice to show that the canal had absolutely nothing of the neutral character so persistently claimed for it by m. de lesseps at this time and during the subsequent operations. its claim to neutrality was based solely on a clause in the concession, in which the canal was declared by the sultan to be "a neutral highway for the ships of all nations." this clause, inserted apparently to indicate the peaceful and industrial character of the enterprise, was an expression of intention no doubt binding upon the parties to the concession, but upon no one else. this, it is obvious, was a totally different matter from construing it, as de lesseps sought to do, as laying down for the rest of the world a law under which, for all time and all circumstances, the canal should be considered as outside the range of belligerent operations. no one can contend that the ruler of a country, by a mere _à priori_ declaration of his own, can confer the quality of neutrality upon any particular part of his territory irrespective of future eventualities. this is a matter where the rights of other states come in. whether a country is or is not neutral is a matter which, on war breaking out, has to be determined by the application of certain well-known principles of international law, and does not depend upon the mere declaration of the ruler, unless followed by a strict observance of neutrality. assuming that, as was practically the case, england was at war with the _de facto_ ruler of egypt, which was arabi, any declaration that the sultan might choose to make that this or that portion of egyptian territory should be considered as neutral, and therefore exempt from warlike operations, would clearly be illusory. the most that could be done towards the so-called neutralization of the canal was subsequently effected in december, , when, by an agreement between egypt and the principal powers, it was arranged that (subject to certain reservations made by great britain) no hostilities on the part of any of the contracting powers should take place in the canal, nor, in the event of the territorial power being itself a belligerent, should the ships of that power attack, or be attacked, in the canal, nor were the entrances to the canal to be blockaded. this, it will be seen, is "neutralization" only in a limited and vague sense of the term, the employment of which was carefully avoided in the agreement. the precedents invoked by m. de lesseps from the franco-german and the russo-turkish wars, in reality, were worth nothing. when france and germany were at war, egypt was at peace, and her neutrality had to be respected, neither turkey nor egypt being in any way mixed up with the dispute. as regards the russo-turkish war, it is incontestable that if russia, in the exercise of her undoubted rights as a belligerent, had seized on the canal as a piece of ottoman territory, no other power would have had reason to complain. whether by doing so russia would have made an enemy of england, and so have caused her to take part against her, was another matter; and, influenced probably by considerations of this kind, russia was induced to abstain. this, however, in no way affects the principle involved. but, apart from the general reasoning above mentioned, there were certain special circumstances affecting the matter which made the case of de lesseps still weaker, and rendered the ordinary rules regarding neutrality inapplicable. by the terms of the concession, although the canal itself was to be the property of the company for a term of years, the land through which it ran remained none the less egyptian territory, and by article it was expressly declared that the government should have the same right of acting for the maintenance of public security and the enforcement of the law within the limits of the company's property as might be exercised at any other point of the khedive's dominions. arabi at this time was a rebel, and his forces were occupying positions in the immediate neighbourhood of the canal. this gave the khedive an undoubted right to act against him, whether on the canal or elsewhere. to assert that the ruler of egypt was not at liberty to suppress a revolt in his own dominions would be too startling a proposition for even m. de lesseps to bring forward. whether the khedive interfered by himself or by his agent, who in this case was sir garnet wolseley, comes to exactly the same thing. what took place was a simple matter of police, and if, in the course of suppressing arabi, certain points on the canal had to be occupied, the case came expressly within the terms of article . this being so, of what had de lesseps to complain, and where does the question of neutrality arise? regarded, then, from any point of view, the fallacy of the claim to neutrality advanced on behalf of the canal is so clear that it is difficult to imagine how it could ever have been seriously put forward. here, too, it may be remarked that not only was the canal not a "neutral" concern, but it never possessed any of the "international" or "universal" character claimed for it. it was, in fact, no more "international" or "universal" than a tramway or a dry goods store, to which the citizens of all nations could have access on payment for the accommodation or goods supplied. viewed in this light, the pretensions of the president of the company appear simply ridiculous, and in any less distinguished individual would only have excited ridicule. the question of neutrality having now been dealt with, it only remains to relate the steps taken by the president of the canal company. according to his published memoirs:-- "on his arrival in egypt with his son victor, on the th july, he found that everything had been prepared by the french and english commanders for the joint occupation of port saïd, with a view to protect the population. de lesseps hastened to the french admiral's flagship, and was informed by that officer that he had been asked by two of the french residents to land troops for their protection. after some difficulty de lesseps prevailed on the french commander to confide to him the petition, which was signed by two names he knew very well. as the document was legalized by the french consul, he went straight to his house and got that official to summon the two petitioners. they were soon found, and de lesseps rated them soundly for what he called their stupidity. he told them that now he was at port saïd they might sleep without fear; that he would be responsible for the safety of everyone; and then, taking the petition, he tore it up in their faces, threw the pieces on the floor, and told the men who had signed it that as it was withdrawn they might go home. they did so, and de lesseps, returning to the french admiral, informed him that the petition no longer existed, and that, therefore, he had no reason for landing. the french admiral not having yet been informed by his government of their determination not to co-operate with the english, de lesseps found it no easy matter to persuade him to alter his decision with regard to the projected landing. the fact that the french fleet had withdrawn from alexandria when it was bombarded by the english aided de lesseps in prevailing on the french commander to abstain. when at last he had attained that object, it was de lesseps himself who informed the english commander of the fact." according to the official journal of the canal company ("le canal de suez"), which, however, must not always be regarded as an accurate record of events, de lesseps found both the native and european population of port saïd much disturbed at the idea of the projected landing, and he called a meeting of the native notables and sheikhs to reassure them. after these incidents he received from arabi a telegram, of which the following is a translation:-- "thank you for what you have done to prevent the landing of foreign troops at port saïd, and for your efforts to restore tranquillity of mind to the natives and the europeans." de lesseps then went through the canal to suez, returning again as far as ismailia, from which place, on the th, he sent a telegram to m. charles de lesseps, the company's agent in paris, to the effect following:-- "the english admiral having declared to me that he would not disembark without being preceded by the french navy, and a disembarkation being possibly ruin to port saïd, i have had to reassure the numerous arab population, without whom we should be forced to suspend our works. in the presence of the ulemas and notables, i have sworn that not a frenchman shall disembark whilst i am here, and that i will guarantee public tranquillity and the neutrality of our universal canal. the government of my country will not disavow me." this was followed by another telegram, of which the following is a translation, to the same person:-- _"ismailia, th july, ._ "to disembark at ismailia, where there is not a solitary egyptian soldier, is to determine to take possession of our canal. the only persons here are a chief of native police and some agents. the inhabitants are our employés, their families, and some refugees. the invaders will find us unarmed at the head of our _personnel_ to bar their passage with 'protests.'" and by yet another, on the th august:-- "the english admiral at port saïd writes me that he has decided to take, in spite of my protests, such measures as he judges necessary to occupy the canal. i have decided to oppose any warlike operation on the canal." on the same day, m. de lesseps went on board h.m.s. _orion_ at ismailia. he was in evening dress, and wore his order of the star of india, and was attended by his son victor and m. de rouville, the canal company's agent. he demanded the intentions of the english towards the canal, and protested energetically and with much excitement against any landing as "a violation of international rights." on the day following, m. de lesseps telegraphed to paris as follows:-- "the english admiral having announced the occupation of ismailia, i went yesterday on board the _orion_ with victor. we have signified verbally our resolution to resist, to prevent serious disorder and interruption in navigation of the canal. we have obtained a declaration that a landing should only take place on our demand." in consequence of this last telegram, admiral hoskins was desired to report on the statement that he had promised only to land a force on the canal upon being asked by de lesseps. the admiral replied that the statement was "quite unwarranted." the council of the canal company assembled on the th august, and passed resolutions supporting their president, and declaring that "the company could not lend itself to the violation of a neutrality which was the guarantee of the commerce of all nations." on the th the khedive issued a proclamation declaring that the commander-in-chief of the british forces was authorized to occupy all points on the isthmus necessary for the operations against the rebels. on the th admiral hoskins gave orders that no ship or boat was to enter the canal, and announced that he was prepared to resort to force to prevent any attempt to contravene these orders. m. de lesseps replied that he protested against "this act of violence and spoliation." on the th august lord lyons telegraphed lord granville as follows, omitting irrelevant passages:-- "we communicated to m. charles de lesseps last night a memorandum in the terms of your lordship's despatch to us of the th instant; and we requested, at the same time, that the transports should pay dues at ismailia, and that the regular traffic through the suez canal should be suspended during the short period necessary for the passage of these vessels. m. charles de lesseps declined to express any opinion of his own, but it was plain to us that he did not expect that the wishes of her majesty's government would be acceded to by his father." as the sequel showed, m. de lesseps' acquiescence was not deemed by the english government essential to the carrying out of the operations decided on. m. de lesseps, ever since his arrival in egypt, had continued to assure arabi that if he let the canal alone the english would also respect it. his theory was, "le canal est la grande route ouverte à tous les pavilions. y toucher amenerait contre nous l'europe, le monde entier." towards the end of july, m. de lesseps, having learned that the blocking of the canal had been decided at the egyptian camp, telegraphed to arabi to do nothing to it, adding the words, "_jamais les anglais n'y pénétreraient, jamais, jamais!_" nevertheless, secret orders were given to mahmoud pasha fehmi to prepare everything for the military occupation of the canal jointly with mahmoud choukri bey, another engineer of the national party. this was on the evening of the th august. on the th, after a simulated attack by the british on the lines of kafr dowar, intended to cover the expedition to port saïd, arabi's look-outs signalled the movement of the english fleet in the direction of the canal. the day following, m. de lesseps having been informed of the presence of thirty-two english ships of war and transports in the waters of port saïd, sent to arabi a telegram, the substance of which was as follows:-- "make no attempt to intercept _my_ canal. i am there. not a single english soldier shall disembark without being accompanied by a french soldier. i answer for everything." on receipt of this message, a council of war was held, which, with the exception of arabi, who still hesitated, unanimously decided to act. the answer to m. de lesseps was as follows:--"sincere thanks, assurances consolatory, but not sufficient under existing circumstances. the defence of egypt requires the temporary destruction of the canal." fortunately the despatch ordering the destruction of the canal was sent by a roundabout route by way of cairo, and when men and material were ready to carry out the work, the english were already in occupation, in spite of m. de lesseps' positive declarations. the fifteen hours' delay caused by m. de lesseps' communication prevented the execution of the orders of the council. chapter xix. seizure of the suez canal. the seizure and temporary occupation of the suez canal by the british forces became an absolute necessity from the moment that sir garnet wolseley determined to make ismailia the base of his operations. once decided on, the evolution was performed on the night of the th- th of august in a quiet, practical, and business-like manner, reflecting the highest credit on the british navy. the work at port saïd was carried out by the _monarch_ and the _iris_, the first-named vessel being so moored off the town that her forward turret guns commanded the main street leading to the quay, whilst the _iris_ was to seaward of the _monarch_, in a position whence she could shell the beach and the arab town. the ironclad _northumberland_ lay anchored in the offing off fort ghemil, the object being to check an exodus of the coal labourers from port saïd, and to create an impression that the fort was to be attacked. at on the night of the th the ships' companies of the _monarch_ and _iris_ were called on deck and warned that they would be landed at a.m. at exactly . on the th the landing began amidst the strictest silence. so quietly was the operation carried out that those on board the french ironclad _la gallissonière_, moored close astern of the _monarch_, and to the same buoy, knew nothing of what was going on. the landing party comprised two companies of seamen and one of marines from the _monarch_, and a small naval brigade and a company of marines from the _iris_, with two gatling guns. the plan of operations, shortly stated, was to surround the barracks in which the government soldiers were quartered, and then to establish a line of sentries across the narrow neck of land which separates the european from the native town, and to bar escape from the former. in a few minutes the work was completed. the soldiers, who were nearly all asleep, were ordered to surrender, and of them fell in and laid down their arms. they were then permitted to return to their barracks, two officers only being detained in custody. the seamen were then posted right across from lake menzaleh to the sea, and some temporary earthworks were thrown up across the neck of land already referred to. upon captain seymour, of the _iris_, devolved the delicate duty of securing the canal company's offices at port saïd, and of preventing any information being telegraphed through it to the company's other stations. after captain seymour had occupied the office of the principal transit agent of the canal company, a midshipman, not more than fifteen years of age, was told off with a party of bluejackets to take possession of the company's telegraph apparatus. the company's employés stood aghast with solemn faces. such an act of desecration had never been even dreamt of. presently the company's telegraph agent arrived, full of dignity and importance, and, apparently unconscious of what had taken place, walked towards his office. he was stopped at the entrance by the small midshipman, who said with a very good french accent, "on ne passe pas." the frenchman (all the important posts in the company are filled by frenchmen) looked at the diminutive object in front of him with dignified astonishment, and demanded, "qui êtes-vous? que voulez-vous ici?" "je suis ici pour empêcher le monde d'entrer," answered the midshipman. the frenchman, quite bewildered, looked round, and from the long faces of his colleagues was able to guess the truth. his anger and humiliation at first prevented his uttering a word. it was not so much that his office had been seized, but that such an important mission should have been confided to so small a midshipman. this was the bitterest sting of all. had he been suppressed by a troop of soldiers with fixed bayonets, his dignity at least would have been saved, though the result might have been the same. "ces sacrés anglais veulent se moquer de nous en nous envoyant un gamin comme cela," was his remark to his brother officials. resistance was, however, in vain, and the company's staff had to submit to the inevitable.[ ] of course the vital point to be seized was ismailia, a task which the presence of the egyptian force at the railway junction at nefiché, just outside the town, rendered especially perilous. the force landed by captain fitz-roy, of the _orion_, consisted of officers and men belonging to that vessel, the _northumberland_, _carysfort_, and _coquette_, with two gatlings and a -pounder gun. the men disembarked in absolute silence at a.m. on the th. the silence was so perfect that the egyptian guard at the lock gates was surrounded before the attacking force was discovered. the guard, however, fired their rifles, and so did the sailors. the guard at the governor's house laid down their arms, and no further resistance was experienced in the town. the railway and telegraph stations, the canal lock bridge, and the governor's house (with the governor) were all taken possession of and held. there was some slight skirmishing in making the further advance, and in the arab town some of the enemy were killed. the ships in lake timsah at . a.m. fired five rounds of shell each on the guardhouses in the arab town. by a.m. the whole place was occupied. by intercepted telegrams it was ascertained that the enemy were arranging to send a large force to nefiché to attack ismailia and the ships, and captain fitz-roy determined, if possible, to dislodge the enemy from nefiché, and to destroy their camp and any of the trains running. the _orion_ and _carysfort_ therefore commenced a slow bombardment at a.m., at a distance of , yards. by noon the enemy's camp was destroyed, and the troops were retreating towards cairo. the bombardment was then stopped for a time, but at p.m., as another train was arriving laden with troops, firing was resumed, one shot wrecking the train, overturning the trucks and scattering the soldiers right and left. the fortunate shot was fired from the _orion_ at an unseen enemy, from bearings taken from the masthead of the _carysfort_. this concluded the fighting until p.m., after which shells were fired at nefiché at intervals of half an hour until daylight, to prevent the railway being cleared, and check troops coming from the west by train. at . general graham arrived with the advance guard of the army, reinforced the different positions, and took over the military command. throughout the operations there was only one european injured. the brother-in-law of the dutch consul happened to be walking in the neighbourhood of the lock, and not stopping when challenged, was unfortunately shot in the arm, and subsequently died.[ ] the account given by m. victor de lesseps, the canal company's local agent, in his official report of the operations at ismailia, differs somewhat from the foregoing. it is nevertheless not devoid of interest, and for this reason a translation of some of the more important passages is given below. "during the night of the th to th all the european population, the _personnel_ of the company, and the principal egyptian functionaries, were assembled at the house of m. poilpré, chief agent of the domain, at one of the gayest of balls, enlivened by the presence of the officers of the spanish and austrian ships of war. at two in the morning, every one went home, and commenced to sleep, when, towards o'clock, in the middle of a very dark night, the streets resounded with warlike cries, mingled with the sound of musketry and of the rolling of gun-carriages dragged at a walking pace. "it is the english sailors who disembark without having warned the inhabitants that they might be exposed to be killed in the streets. on what are they firing?--on whom?--no enemy is before them. the camp of the egyptians is at nefiché, three kilometres from ismailia. there are in the town only some soldiers of police, very peaceable people, inhabiting ismailia for a long time, and who have never dreamed of anything but maintaining order. "shortly after the embarkation, the cannon thunders. it is the _orion_--it is the _carysfort_--which are sending their shells on to nefiché, or in the desert. "the musketry fire continues in the streets of ismailia. at daybreak it ceases in the town, after having happily made only one victim. "it is a european, a dutchman, m. bröens, who, not answering clearly to the challenge of a seaman, received a rifle bullet, which, traversing his body, broke his left arm. m. bröens lies between life and death. the doctors regard his condition as hopeless. "the english sailors direct their steps towards our arab village, inhabited by our native workmen with their families, and where they find no enemies to reply. nevertheless, they fire on the women and children,[ ] who flee into the desert; heartrending cries from the terrified population reach even us. some police agents are made prisoners without any of them having tried to defend themselves. "one of them is killed from behind, whilst trying to escape with his family. "towards eight in the morning the musketry fire ceased. the cannon thunders still, and will thunder until the morning of the st. "on landing, the english have cut our telegraph wires to suez and port saïd. captain fitz-roy occupies the port office, and our boats are seized. ismailia is blocked, and we know nothing of what is passing on the rest of the line. "in the afternoon we think of putting the families of our _personnel_ in safety. for seamen only occupy the town, and during the night the egyptians of nefiché may attack. it is prudent to make the women and children sleep on the lake. as to the _personnel_ and m. ferdinand de lesseps, they have decided not to quit the town. "the families betake themselves to the landing-place. captain fitz-roy opposes their departure.[ ] i then write him a letter. m. fitz-roy answers me verbally at seven in the evening, when the night commences, that the families are free, but that m. de lesseps and all his _personnel_ shall pass the night in the town, for he expects to be attacked. there will be a battle in ismailia, and he wishes that m. de lesseps and all his _personnel_ should be there. 'i am the master, now,' says he. "these odious words were quite gratuitous, since m. de lesseps and all the _personnel_, chiefs and employés, had declared that they would not go out of the town, and there had never been a question except as regards their families. "a part of the families preferred to return to town; the other part was enabled to embark in the boats sent by the ironclad spanish frigate _carmen_, and by the austrian gunboat _albatross_. "the night, happily, passed without any incident; the silence was broken only by the shells thrown by the _carysfort_ and _orion_ on nefiché. at daylight ismailia woke up in the midst of several thousands of english soldiers of the army. the lake is full of transports and ships of war. "we learn then that in the night of the th to the th the english have disembarked at port saïd, but peaceably, and that admiral hoskins has taken possession of our offices, from whence m. desavary, principal transit agent at port saïd, had been expelled. ships of war and transports entered the canal without pilots, and without paying their dues.[ ] "during the th and st the movement without pilots of the english vessels of war gave rise to complete confusion. the greater part got ashore, and several were obliged to disembark their troops on the bank before arriving at ismailia, being incapable of extricating themselves by their own resources. admiral seymour has been forced to recognize this, and the hurry that he was in on the st to hand back the working to us is the proof of it.[ ] "it is desirable to add that the british naval authorities tried to obtain the services of several of our pilots behind the backs of their superiors, and that all the pilots, without exception, refused to move without the order of the company. "during all this crisis no _défaillance_ has been produced in all the _personnel_ from port saïd to suez. the company may well be proud of it." the substance of m. victor de lesseps' account of the occupation of ismailia being telegraphed to the _standard_ newspaper, the lords of the admiralty thought the matter of sufficient importance to be noticed, and on the st september communicated to the foreign office as follows:-- "from these reports[ ] we are able to give the following account of the occurrences of that day: ismailia was garrisoned by rebel troops; guards were placed at the lock, the governor's house, and the arab town. the lock was surrounded by a party under commander kane, r.n. the guard fired and wounded that officer slightly. their fire was returned, and it is believed that it was here that a brother of one of the employés of the canal was unfortunately wounded, who died on the th ultimo in the british hospital. the guard at the governor's house laid down their arms. the arab town was occupied by captain stephenson; the guard retreated and were fired upon, and two men killed. a few rounds of shell were also fired from the ships at the guardhouses in the arab town. "sir beauchamp seymour also reports that he saw on the st ultimo many women on board the spanish ship _carmen_; that he was told by the captains that they took refuge on board of her and the austrian ship _albatross_ on the th. it appears that captain fitz-roy permitted two large canal boats to be used for their embarkation, although he did not consider it consistent with his duty to allow canal officers to leave ismailia." in the southern half of the canal from lake timsah to suez, the events of the day were on a smaller scale, but none the less interesting. it will be remembered that suez had been by this time in the possession of the british navy for nearly three weeks, and the advanced guard of the indian contingent and the first battalion of the seaforth highlanders, under lieutenant-colonel stockwell, had arrived from aden. rear-admiral sir william hewett, commander-in-chief of the naval forces in the east indies, had charge of the operations at suez. according to his reports, in the afternoon of the th august, the rebels were seen intrenching themselves in front of the british position, and movements of bedouins on the left flank also called for attention. under these circumstances, it was decided by the admiral not to send any of the highlanders away without previously reconnoitring the neighbourhood. on the night of the th, hewett caused the telegraph wires to be cut between suez and the first canal station, and on saturday morning notices were issued that from that date, the th instant, until the prohibition was formally removed, no ships or boats would be allowed to pass into the canal from the suez side without special permission. the damage to the wire on the above occasion was soon repaired, but on the following night he caused the poles which conveyed the line across the creek close to the company's offices to be cut down, and placed a guard over them to prevent their being restored. on the th, at daylight, highlanders, under colonel stockwell, were disembarked from the transport _bancoora_, and marched eight miles in the direction of chalouf to make a feint attack in front. at the same time the gun-vessels _sea gull_ and _mosquito_, with more of the highlanders, were also despatched to chalouf by the maritime canal. the party under colonel stockwell returned about p.m. without having come in touch with the enemy. the gun-vessels, meanwhile, had been more successful. the first that they had seen of the enemy along the canal was a cavalry patrol, about three miles from chalouf. on the gun-vessels approaching this latter place, some infantry were discovered behind the railway embankment, which thus formed a natural intrenchment. the ships at once opened fire from their tops, to which the enemy replied, but made bad practice. this was followed by the prompt disembarkation of the highlanders, who, crossing the intervening fresh-water canal in boats, or by swimming, climbed up the intrenchment and carried the works with a rush, the enemy, scattered and broken, retreating across the plain. the gun-vessels then returned to suez. with the exception of the serapeum portion between lake timsah and the bitter lakes, where no annoyance or interruption of traffic was expected, the whole of the maritime canal was in possession of the british navy by nightfall of august the th. on the following day the _tourmaline_ and the _don_ moored permanently at kantara, where a caravan road to syria crosses the canal, and there established a strongly defended post; while the gunboats in the southern half completed the link which perfected the chain from port saïd to suez. having seized the canal, the british prepared to protect it. between ismailia and suez this was effected by the _mosquito_ and _sea gull_, which patrolled it constantly, no force being permanently landed. in the northern half the _tourmaline_ and _don_ held kantara and the stations adjoining on either side. strong detachments of sailors from the fleet at port saïd, with gatlings, were landed at the other stations. breastworks were thrown up and regular camps established each night. at port saïd a camp was pitched between the european and arab towns, where never less than bluejackets and marines were kept. intrenchments were thrown up across the isthmus from lake menzaleh to the mediterranean, and field-pieces mounted. in the canal itself steam launches, &c., with armed crews were used as patrols, and the fast thorneycroft torpedo launches of the _iris_ and _hecla_ were employed as despatch boats. sunday, august th, was a busy day at port saïd. the whole of the immense fleet of men-of-war and transports, as well as sir beauchamp seymour in the _helicon_, arrived early in the forenoon. as was expected, the canal company would accept no dues and would provide no pilots. there was some little delay until the way was clear. during this interval, to provide against possible trouble, of the york and lancaster regiment were put on board the gun-vessel _falcon_, and a similar number of the west kent regiment was embarked on board the gun-vessel _beacon_, to form the advance. these vessels arrived at ismailia in the evening of the same day. early in the afternoon the _nerissa_ led the transport fleet into the canal, followed by the _rhosina_, the troop-ship _euphrates_, and the rest, including the _penelope_, admiral hoskins' flagship. slowly the stately procession passed through the canal to ismailia, which the vessels one by one reached either that night or early the next morning. although the ships were unprovided with pilots, they were so skilfully navigated by their own officers, that very little difficulty arose, almost the only exception being the grounding of the _catalonia_,[ ] with the west kent regiment on board. she grounded at a distance of seven miles from lake timsah, and caused a temporary block; but did not for long interrupt the passage of the other vessels. m. ferdinand de lesseps, from the steps of the empress's chalet at the entrance to lake timsah, watched the long line of british vessels of war and transports arriving from the canal.[ ] so little space was there that the vessels as they entered the lake were moored abreast of each other, bow and stern. the _penelope_ was one of the first to take up her position. in m. de lesseps' memoirs, already referred to, it is stated that he had refused to give pilots to the british vessels, under pretext that they were violating the neutrality of the canal, and that it was doubtful whether he would in the end have consented to give the pilots if he had not perceived that the english were determined to use the canal at the risk of a vessel or two being stranded. he knew how detrimental the blocking of the canal would be to his enterprise, so he made a bargain with the english commander, and on receiving a cheque on the bank of england for £ , as compensation for the damage done, he placed the whole administration of the canal at the disposal of the british. being powerless to prevent the violation of the canal's neutrality, he thus preserved intact the pecuniary interests of the company. it is scarcely necessary to say that the whole of the above statement is "fallacious," as was pointed out by sir beauchamp seymour (then lord alcester) in a letter which he wrote to the _times_ as soon as the matter was noticed by the british press. at a.m. on the st sir garnet wolseley arrived in the despatch vessel _salamis_, and issued the following proclamation by order of the khedive:-- "proclamation to the egyptians. "the general in command of the british forces wishes to make known that the object of her majesty's government in sending troops to this country is to re-establish the authority of the khedive. the army is therefore only fighting against those who are in arms against his highness. all peaceable inhabitants will be treated with kindness, and no violence will be offered to them. their religion, mosques, families, and property will be respected. any supplies which may be required will be paid for, and the inhabitants are invited to bring them. the general in command will be glad to receive visits from the chiefs who are willing to assist in repressing the rebellion against the khedive, the lawful ruler of egypt appointed by the sultan. "g. j. wolseley, general, "commander-in-chief of the british army in egypt." chapter xx. tel-el-mahuta to mahsameh. the country between ismailia and the delta is so monotonous that a few words only are necessary to give a notion of its character. it is a desert of sand, across which run the fresh water canal and the railway side by side. to the northward of these the ground is, as a rule, somewhat higher, sloping in a southerly direction across the canal. from these elevations occasional peeps can be obtained of the blue waters of lake timsah, and of the violet-tinted hills of geb-el-attakeh in the distance. the surface is occasionally varied by low hummocks and mounds, and is dotted at intervals by tufts of scrub, called "camel grass." the soil is a deep light shifting sand near ismailia, but it gradually increases in firmness towards the westward; and at tel-el-kebir, especially on the upper crests of the hills, is a fairly compact wind-swept gravel, over which progress is comparatively easy. the sky is here rarely cloudy, so that the sun beats down with full force during the day, whilst at night the air becomes cool and almost chilly, even in summer. shelter is needed against the sun in day-time, and at night a blanket is indispensable, both on account of the low temperature and of the dews. by reason of the absence of rain and the dry temperature, stores of all kinds could be freely piled up uncovered in the open air without fear of injury. the fresh water canal, joining the nile just below cairo, furnished the necessary water, of fair quality when once the mud held in suspension was got rid of. the egyptian flies, the worst of their species, however, made life almost unendurable. they disappeared with the sun, only to be relieved by countless hosts of mosquitoes. no time was lost after the landing of the troops at ismailia, the advance commencing the day following the occupation. at a.m. general graham started from the town with men and a small naval contingent, and marched across the heavy sand, arriving in position at nefiché at . p.m. the egyptian camp was found completely deserted, the enemy having retired to the westward along the fresh water canal. a few tents were left behind, and about thirty railway trucks full of provisions and ammunition. the remains of the wrecked train which had been struck by the _orion's_ shell were also lying about. the locomotive, however, which was badly wanted, was gone, and the telegraph wires were cut. the entire force under graham bivouacked here, and the position was at once placed in an efficient state of defence. shelter trenches were thrown up, and guns were placed in position. later in the day a reconnaissance was made to the westward, and the presence of the enemy was discerned about four miles distant. the troops had carried with them two days' rations, and it was necessary to accumulate a small stock of stores before continuing the advance. in consequence, the next two days were devoted to preparations. transports continued to arrive daily in lake timsah, and landing went on rapidly. on the nd, twenty-six transports, besides vessels of war, were moored off ismailia. at p.m. all the bluejackets from the fleet re-embarked, except three gatling guns' crews and a torpedo party, who had advanced with graham to nefiché.[ ] on the rd there was increased activity in ismailia, several transports arriving from suez with portions of the indian contingent. the khedive's palace was converted into a hospital. lines of rails were laid down from the landing-place to the station, and stores were disembarked in great quantities and moved up to the front. on the following day commenced a series of engagements, which, with some intervals, continued until the dispersal of the egyptian army at tel-el-kebir. at a.m. on the th, wolseley made an advance with the object of seizing a position on the fresh water canal and railway which would insure the water supply. his force consisted of three squadrons of cavalry, two guns (r.h.a.), and , infantry (york and lancaster regiment and marines). following the line of railway, they arrived at . a.m. on the north side of the canal, at a point about midway between el magfar and the village of tel-el-mahuta. at this point the enemy had constructed his first dam across the canal, and after some skirmishing, in which the household cavalry made a successful charge, the dam was taken possession of. from this point the enemy could be seen in force about a mile-and-a-half further on, holding a line extending across the canal, at a distance of , yards from the british front. at mahuta also a large embankment was seen blocking the railway, and a second dam had been constructed across the canal. the smoke of locomotives constantly reaching mahuta indicated that reinforcements were arriving at that point from the direction of tel-el-kebir. nevertheless, wolseley, at the risk of being outnumbered--the enemy's force amounting in all to about , men--decided to hold his ground till evening, by which time the reinforcements sent for to nefiché and ismailia would arrive. the enemy began with a heavy artillery fire from twelve guns, and their infantry advanced to within , yards of the british line, meeting with a steady and well-directed fire from the york and lancaster regiment, which held the captured dam. from to o'clock the enemy continued to develop his attack on the centre and right of wolseley's position. the egyptian guns were served well, but, fortunately, the shells used were fitted with percussion fuzes, which sank so deeply into the sand before bursting that few splinters flew upwards. the fire was returned by the two guns of the royal horse artillery (which had taken up a position on a sandy hillock near the railway embankment), and the practice from which was very good. in the meantime, the cavalry, under general drury-lowe, manoeuvred on the right of the position to check the enemy's advance on that side; but the horses, just landed after a long sea voyage, and fatigued by their march across a desert deep in sand, were in no condition to charge. this was the situation at noon, when two gatling guns, with a party of sailors belonging to h.m.s. _orion_, arrived and took up a position for action. the manner in which the sailors brought their guns into position excited general admiration. at p.m. the nd battalion of the duke of cornwall's regiment arrived from nefiché. the artillery fire of the enemy was now directed more on the right, until about . p.m. general lowe, with the cavalry, moved forward, and caused the enemy partially to withdraw his attack in that direction. at . p.m. the enemy again advanced, his left pushing forward four guns, some cavalry and infantry, but not coming within effective infantry or gatling fire. reinforcements now began to come up rapidly--colonel sir baker russell with of the th and th dragoon guards, and at p.m. the brigade of guards, under the duke of connaught, arrived on the scene. it was by this time too late to begin an offensive movement; the troops were tired by their exertions during the early part of the day, and the brigade of guards, which had moved from ismailia at . p.m., had suffered much from the heat of the desert march. shortly after sunset the entire force bivouacked on the field which they had so tenaciously held all day, and the enemy withdrew to his position at mahuta. the events of the day may be shortly described as a successful attempt to seize the dam,[ ] and the retaining of the position, gained in the face of greatly superior numbers. it is therefore to be regretted that sir garnet wolseley should have thought it necessary to refer to the matter in somewhat bombastic language in his official despatch, in which he expresses himself as follows: "although i had but three squadrons of cavalry, two guns, and about , infantry, i felt it would not be in consonance with the traditions of her majesty's army that we should retire, even temporarily, before egyptian troops, no matter what their numbers might be." had sir garnet only been well acquainted with military history, he might have recollected one of the events connected with the british expedition to egypt in . in the course of that disastrous campaign , british infantry, under colonel stewart, had to retire before a force, composed of egyptian and albanian troops, at el hamad, on the nile, and further, were all either killed, wounded, or taken prisoners.[ ] during the night of the th august further reinforcements from ismailia continued to arrive, and the attack on the intrenched post of tel-el-mahuta commenced soon after daybreak on the th. as the british force advanced, the infantry in echelon, the brigade of guards leading and the cavalry on the right, the enemy was observed abandoning his earthworks at mahuta, and falling back along the railway line to mahsameh. his railway trains were all seen moving off in the same direction. at . a.m. the british artillery came into action with the egyptian infantry and guns posted on the canal bank to the west of mahuta. as it was of importance to capture some of the enemy's locomotives, the cavalry and eight guns were pushed forward with all speed to cut off the retreating trains. the enemy offered considerable resistance in the neighbourhood of mahsameh, but nothing could stop the advance of the mounted troops, and mahsameh, with its extensive camp, was soon in their possession. seven krupp guns, great quantities of ammunition, two trains of railway waggons loaded with provisions, and vast supplies of various kinds were captured. the egyptian soldiers fled along the railway and canal banks, throwing away their arms and equipment, and showing every sign of demoralization. the canal had been filled with dead bodies, and the banks were still strewn with them, probably with the idea of making the water undrinkable. it was here that one of the english artillerymen, having offered to fetch water for a wounded egyptian, was shot dead by the latter whilst doing so. the stock of provisions captured was a most welcome addition to the stores in hand, and in particular the grain left on the ground in large quantities was invaluable, for the horses had been for several days on an extremely short allowance of forage. it will be remarked that the operations of the day hardly attained to the dignity of an engagement, the egyptians offering practically no resistance, but falling back on tel-el-kebir, where a large camp had been established north of the railway, and where extensive intrenchments were begun along the crest of a range of hills running north and south.[ ] the losses on the side of the british were small--only five killed and twenty-five wounded; but the cases of sunstroke were numerous, the th dragoons having sixteen and the york and lancaster regiment twenty-five men disabled from this cause. on august th a small force of the dragoons occupied the lock on the fresh water canal at kassassin without opposition. this was a most important step, because the possession of the lock gave sir garnet wolseley control of the water in the upper reach of the canal--no small advantage to an army worked like his on strictly temperance principles. that it could have been accomplished so easily is an indication of the ignorance or carelessness of the enemy. later in the day the duke of cornwall's light infantry, the th york and lancaster regiment, as well as two guns of the royal horse artillery, were marched to the lock, where they established themselves, the cavalry withdrawing to mahsameh. a house on the left bank of the canal was occupied by general graham and his staff, who remained in charge of the advanced guard. as it was known that the enemy was not far off, the cavalry scouted by day and night, and strong outposts were established. chapter xxi. kassassin. the british force had now outrun its commissariat, and for two days the men had lived from hand to mouth. to secure the water supply it had become necessary to push forward a force into the desert nearly twenty miles from the base of operations at ismailia. the question arose how the troops were to be supplied with food, and the want of a proper organization for the transport of provisions began to be severely felt. the men, weakened by prolonged exertion under a terrible sun, were forced to live for two or three days on biscuits and muddy water, flavoured only with the dead bodies of egyptian men and horses. the english horses also were short of forage and showed signs of fatigue and exhaustion. the question of supply became an anxious one. mules were not forthcoming, the railway had been cut, and no rolling stock was available, and the british force was for days almost without food. on the third day, owing to the vigorous efforts of the navy, some stores were forwarded to the front by the fresh water canal, but the prospects were, to say the least, gloomy. the men were compelled to live on pigeons, water-melons, &c., looted out of the neighbouring village. on the th, however, a foraging party was conducted into the country by the transport officer, and some fourteen head of cattle were driven in, besides some sheep and turkeys. the general ordered them all to be paid for, and this rule was observed on subsequent occasions. on the th the egyptians made an effort to regain their lost ground by a serious attack upon the advanced force under general graham, at kassassin. the position occupied by the british was not the most favourable for defence. the troops were astride the canal, and although a bridge existed, the separation of the right and left wings was partial in any case, and complete if the force had either to advance or retire. however, on the right of the position the desert rose to a ridge some to feet high, which with a force like graham's, too weak to occupy it, might easily conceal the movements of an outflanking force. about . a.m. the egyptian cavalry appeared in force on the left front on the north side of the fresh water canal. graham's troops, consisting of cavalry, mounted infantry, , infantry, and artillery, with two -pounder guns, were at once posted under cover, fronting to the north and west, the cavalry being thrown out on the flanks to observe the enemy's movements. about a.m. it was reported that a large force of cavalry, infantry and artillery was being moved round towards the british right behind the ridge already referred to. at noon, the egyptians opened fire from two heavy guns on the left front of graham's position. the range being at least , yards, the shot all fell short. after a time the fire slackened, and about p.m. the enemy were reported to be retiring. graham's men, who had been suffering very much from their long exposure to the sun without food, were then ordered back to their camps. the matter, however, was not destined to end here, for at . the enemy advanced his infantry in great force, displaying a line of skirmishers at least a mile in length, with which he sought to overlap the left of graham's front. this movement was supported by a heavy and well-directed artillery fire, which searched the camp and wounded a sick officer in the building occupied as a hospital. the dispositions to meet the attack were as follows:--on the left the marine artillery were directed to take up a position on the south bank of the canal, whence they could check the enemy's advance by a flank fire. in the centre was the duke of cornwall's regiment, extended in fighting line, about yards to the right rear of the marine artillery, and the york and lancaster extended the fighting line of the duke of cornwall's with two and a half companies, keeping the remainder in support and reserve. the position of the infantry was an irregular echelon, the right thrown back. a troop of the th dragoon guards was kept on this flank, and the two -pounders, now reinforced by two others, took up a position on the ridge, and promptly replied to the egyptian cannonade. unfortunately, these guns had only the ammunition contained in their limbers and had soon to cease firing for want of a further supply, though they did good service while it lasted. the reason of the ammunition failing was the heaviness of the road from the base to the front. efforts were made to get up a proper supply, but the waggons stuck in the sand and so arrived late. the mounted infantry and a dismounted detachment of the th dragoon guards occupied a portion of the gap between the marine artillery and the duke of cornwall's regiment, and although the attacking force made persistent efforts to break through at this point, it failed owing to the steady fire of the marine artillery and the little band of dragoons and mounted infantry. the enemy made repeated attempts to overcome this resistance, putting a number of men across the canal; and three times their guns were kept from advancing by the horses and men being shot when trying to press past. feeling secure on his left, graham turned his attention to the right flank of his position. on the first notice of the attack ( . p.m.) he had sent a message to general drury-lowe by heliograph, and by a mounted officer to mahsameh, three or four miles distant, requesting him to move up the cavalry brigade to cover the right flank, and also to send forward the marine light infantry as a reinforcement. at p.m. graham sent a further order for the cavalry to advance under cover of the ridge on the right, fall upon the left flank of the enemy's skirmishers and roll up his line. the particulars of the cavalry attack made in pursuance of this order are given later on. reinforcements for the enemy being observed arriving by train, still further to protect his exposed right, graham sent a reserve company of the york and lancaster in that direction. near the same point a krupp gun, taken from the enemy at mahsameh and mounted on a railway truck, was brought into action, and worked by a detachment of marine artillery. this gun was admirably served and did great execution among the attacking force. although fired upon by as many as four guns at a time, not a man of the gun detachment was hit, and the gun continued to fire on to the last, expending ninety-three rounds. the immunity enjoyed by the gun's crew was doubtless due to the constant shifting of the gun backwards and forwards on the line of rails. the gun itself was protected by a breastwork of sandbags. at . p.m. a general advance was ordered, with the object of closing on the enemy's infantry about the time that graham reckoned drury-lowe's cavalry charge would be taking place. the advance was made very steadily, the british infantry firing volleys by companies, the reserves following in rear of the railway embankment. the marine light infantry had now come on to the ground on the right and joined in the advance, which was continued for from two to three miles, the enemy falling back and only once attempting to make a stand. this was on the british left, but here the egyptians broke at the first volley of the marines. at . p.m. graham heard of the cavalry charge from an officer of the st life guards, who had lost his way. graham's force had now been marching forward for an hour and a half in the moonlight, and his men had had narrow escapes in mistaking detached bodies of the enemy for british troops. fearing some mistake might be made, and seeing no further chance of co-operation with the cavalry, graham ordered the troops back to camp. to describe the movements of the cavalry under general drury-lowe. according to that officer's report, the aide-de-camp despatched by graham reported at . that the enemy was advancing in force, and the brigade was at once turned out. it consisted of the household cavalry, the dragoon guards, and four guns of the royal horse artillery. as the troops advanced, the sound of heavy firing was heard, and, _en route_, a galloper from general graham arrived, and stated that the general desired to say that "he was only just able to hold his own, and that he wished the cavalry to attack the left of the enemy's skirmishers." the sun had now set, and a bright moon was shining. the light, however, was not good, and the force had to be guided by the flash of the guns and musketry. general drury-lowe made a wide circuit, so as to turn the enemy's left, and the brigade arrived close to this portion of their line without being noticed. as the cavalry advanced, it was received by a fire of shells and musketry, which, being aimed too high, was practically harmless. when within or yards of the enemy, the guns of the horse artillery, then in the rear of the household cavalry and dragoons, were unmasked by the retirement of the first line, and brought into action. after a few rounds had been fired, sir baker russell led a charge of the household cavalry against the enemy's infantry, which had commenced to advance. moving steadily towards the flash of the rifles, the charge was gallantly led and executed. the british cavalry carried all before them. the enemy's infantry was completely scattered, and, according to the official report, the cavalry swept through a battery of nine guns. in daylight these must have been captured, but, unfortunately, their exact position could not be found afterwards, and it is supposed that they were subsequently removed during the night. this moonlight charge was the most dramatic, as it was one of the most dashing, episodes of the campaign. whether the charge, brilliant as it was, occurring so late in the engagement, had any real effect upon the fortunes of the day may well be doubted. the general opinion of military men appears to be that its importance has been much exaggerated. the non-capture of the egyptian guns is especially to be regretted, and has indeed led to the expression of a serious doubt as to their existence. the message referred to by general drury-lowe, to the effect that general graham wished to say that "he was only just able to hold his own," was, it appears, not sent by the general, but was merely the appreciation of the person who brought the message. there is no doubt, however, that it correctly represented the situation at the time. the british loss was a total of killed or dangerously wounded, ; wounded, . the enemy's loss is unknown, but was believed to have been heavy, the ground being thickly strewn with their killed, more especially in the spot where the cavalry charge took place. the burying parties next morning found that many of the bodies had been shockingly mutilated during the night. the circumcised had all been left untouched. the persons committing these outrages followed a fixed plan, which they applied to the uncircumcised corpses of both armies. they lopped off the feet, hands, and other members, and deeply gashed the abdomen and the upper part of the forehead. general graham's estimate of the egyptian forces engaged was , cavalry, , infantry, and guns. it may be remarked that, small as was the british force employed, the results of the engagement were of the greatest importance. it showed, in the first place, that arabi felt himself strong enough to attack and act on the offensive, with a view to regain the prestige which his troops had lost in the previous encounters. in the second place, it showed that the campaign was likely to be something more than a parade across the desert, and that the enemy was willing to come within range and hold his own for hours together. it showed also that he would not stand an attack at close quarters, and that, unless in greatly superior numbers, he might be expected to give way if resolutely assailed. the british left being well supported by the canal and its banks, the most obvious move on the part of the attack was to double up their right and force them into the canal, cutting off communication with their rear. the egyptians had no commander capable of realizing the importance of this object, and, in consequence, the main attack was made in front, the strongest part of the british position, and the flanking movement was only half-hearted and unsuccessful. with this fight ended the first part of the campaign. there was then necessarily a pause in the military operations. a further advance was beset with many difficulties. the railway was damaged in many places, and blocked in others. there were no locomotives to haul the trucks containing stores from the base to the front, and the army transport had in great measure broken down. the draught animals were few and in poor condition; pack-mules in sufficient numbers were lacking, and camels were almost entirely wanting. the strong regulation carts, suitable for use on european roads, were so heavy as to stick hopelessly in the sand. a waggon designed for two horses required not less than six to move it under existing conditions. the navy, it is true, was doing its best to make up for the defects of the army transport. the boat service on the canal had been definitely organized under commander moore, of the _orion_, and rendered most valuable service in getting provisions and stores to the front. notwithstanding all that the boats could do, it became doubtful whether even the few troops at the front could be maintained, and every effort had to be made to keep them supplied with the food requisite to enable them to exist. the men bore their privations and discomforts cheerfully until the arrival of locomotives from suez made it possible to supply the army properly. the water, too, was the reverse of good, the only supply practically being from the canal, and this at times was simply loathsome. in addition to this discomfort, there was always the possibility of the railway or canal being intercepted by marauding parties of the enemy. either of these contingencies would have seriously imperilled the troops at the front. in the meantime, the rd brigade, nd division, composed of highlanders, under the command of sir edward hamley arrived at ismailia from alexandria. three more transports with indian troops also turned up, making the total number of transports in lake timsah no less than , besides men-of-war. the rd brigade was not landed at once, but remained on board the troopships, pending the solution of the transport problem. the state of affairs at this period appears from a telegram from sir garnet wolseley to the secretary of state for war, and which was as follows:-- "_ismailia, september , ._ "in reply to your inquiry of th ultimo, circumstances have forced me ahead of transport, but it is rapidly becoming efficient. the necessity of securing a sufficient supply of fresh water in the canal rendered it imperative to push on as quickly as possible. my successes on the th and th, and retreat of the enemy, have enabled me to seize (the) two important positions on the canal of el magfar and kassassin lock, the latter about twenty miles from this place. i am, therefore, in a more forward and favourable position generally than i had anticipated, and am only now waiting till my transport arrangements are more complete to enable me to make a further movement. "in the absence of roads, i had always calculated on partially using the canal and railway in sending supplies to the front, but the enemy having blocked the former by two large dams, and the latter by an embankment, and the partial removal of rails, it has been necessary to get these obstructions removed. i have one engine on the line, and expect a second from suez to-night, and am preparing the land transport companies, some of which are now landing, to supplement the other means above indicated. "a supply of mules has arrived at cyprus. i expect more from malta and italy to-morrow; and the large supply collected at smyrna and beyrout at last released by the ottoman government are on their way. in a desert country, like this part of egypt, it takes time to organize the lines of communication." by the nd september the whole of the indian contingent, except the th bengal cavalry, had reached suez, and many of its troops had gone to the front. except for an occasional reconnaissance, bringing about an interchange of shots and one real attack, the period now entered upon was one merely of preparation for a further advance. with this object, stores first, and then men, were gradually being accumulated at kassassin. on the th september the egyptian leaders apparently began to realize the fact that sir garnet wolseley's force was daily increasing in size and importance, and that if any attempt was to be made to crush him there was no time to be lost. accordingly an attack was made that day on kassassin. on this occasion arabi himself was on the ground, though the attacking forces were commanded by ali pasha fehmi. the egyptian force turned out in great strength, comprising seventeen battalions of infantry, several squadrons of cavalry, thirty guns, and some thousands of bedouins. the egyptian attack was meant to be from two sides: on the west by an advance of the garrison of tel-el-kebir, and on the north by a body, variously estimated at from , to , men, from salahieh. there is very little doubt that the british force came very near being surprised. early in the morning colonel pennington, of the th bengal lancers, going out to the westward to post vedettes, found the egyptians advancing in force. although he had but fifty men with him he dismounted them behind a ridge, and opened fire on the advancing enemy, and when hard pushed charged some squadrons of cavalry, killing ten men and capturing five horses. warning of the impending danger was thus given to the camp, enabling a line of battle to be formed. by a.m. arabi had succeeded in posting most of his guns on an eminence described in wolseley's despatches as "ninth hill," , yards to the british right front, whilst his infantry deployed for attack, with the right resting on the canal, and then advanced to within , yards. a few of his troops got south of the canal, with a view to a flank movement. no sooner were the egyptian guns posted than they opened fire. the practice was very accurate, shot after shot falling admirably into the british camp and lines. the shells, however, burst so rarely as to neutralize the excellence of the aim. the british artillery batteries and the guns on the railway replied vigorously with shell and shrapnel. the -pounders did excellent work on the enemy's right on both sides of the canal, sending their projectiles over the heads of the british infantry until the advance was begun. the horse artillery batteries shot down the men working two of the guns, and these were seized by the infantry as they advanced; two others were captured by the marines in their forward march. their battalion, in regular formation for attack, came upon a battery of four guns which was playing briskly upon the marines at a distance of , yards. without returning the fire they kept on their way until within yards, when they began firing volleys by half companies, still continuing the march. this steady work proved too severe for the egyptian gunners, who broke and ran, leaving two of the four guns behind. the infantry also engaged, holding its ground for an hour and a half, no forward movement being permitted until it was ascertained that no danger was to be apprehended from the direction of salahieh. at . it was deemed prudent to assume the offensive, and the line was ordered to advance, the right being always kept in reserve. the th (duke of cornwall's), th (york and lancaster), and th (west kent) regiments, which had been stationed on the south bank of the canal to check any flank movement of the enemy, were ordered to retire across the canal bridge, and, crossing the plain in front of the camp, to form up with the rest. the infantry, with the four batteries of artillery on its right, moved forward about , yards and re-engaged the enemy, who by this time had retired. to prevent any attempt to overlap the right of the position, the th was advanced in this direction over the hills. the attack in this quarter, however, resolved itself into nothing. at . the general advance was resumed amid a smart musketry fire, and the enemy broke and retired with precipitation upon tel-el-kebir. the cavalry and royal horse artillery ran them very close, the fortifications being approached as near as , yards. chapter xxii. tel-el-kebir. on the th september, sir garnet wolseley, who had been to the front during the engagement of that day and had made a reconnaissance towards the enemy's lines at tel-el-kebir, established his head-quarters at kassassin. the same day the highland brigade, under sir archibald alison, commenced its march from ismailia to the front. the guards were also brought up. the th, th, and th were occupied in bringing forward troops and stores, and in making preparations for a general advance. at p.m. on the th, the army was concentrated at kassassin, the royal irish fusiliers being the last battalion to arrive. to remain behind and guard the line of communication, of the manchester regiment and of the native infantry were left at ismailia. at nefiché, mahuta, and mahsameh, small detachments were also stationed, whilst at kassassin of the west kent regiment and two companies of the royal engineers were told off to form a garrison for the time being. this left available for the forward movement , infantry, , cavalry and guns. tel-el-kebir, properly written "el-tel-el-kebir," "the great hill," is the name of a peaceful arab village on the south side of the railway leading from ismailia to cairo, and on the banks of the fresh water canal. on the opposite side of the railway and canal stands the "hill," an elevation of considerable height, near which arabi had for some weeks past been intrenching his forces. tel-el-kebir had for many years past been used as a military station and camp, and it was here that arabi had been exiled with his mutinous regiment in the autumn of . [illustration: lines of tel-el-kebir.] the position selected by the egyptians for a final stand was by nature the strongest it was possible to find in that flat section of country.[ ] near the station of tel-el-kebir there is a general and gradual rise of the ground towards the west, culminating in a range of hills that stretch from a point on the railway about a mile and a half east of the station, northward to salahieh. roughly parallel to the fresh water canal is a second series of hills intersecting the first about two miles distant from the railway. viewed from the railway, this east and west range appears as a moderate hill. its real character, however, is that of a table-land sloping away to the northward with a rather steep descent towards the south. the ground is generally even, and barren almost to desolation, the soil consisting of sand and rock, producing only a small scrub. the egyptian intrenchments were laid out along the crests of these hills, the lines running north and south, starting from the railway and canal (see plan), and running in a northerly direction for over two miles beyond the intersection, making a total frontage to the eastward of nearly four miles. the plan included a dry ditch from eight to twelve feet wide, and from five to nine feet deep, in front of a breastwork from four to six feet high with a "banquette" in rear. the trace was broken by occasional salients, where were placed well-designed redoubts, possessing a wide command on either flank. in the rear were frequent shelter trenches. passages through the parapet were provided for field-pieces and vehicles in various places, and were guarded by traverses and breastworks. the revetment differed mainly in the care which had been bestowed upon it, and consisted mostly of reeds, grass, &c. the interior slopes were the only ones thus treated. the southern portion of the defences was practically completed at the time of the battle. here the revetment was neatly finished. work was in progress on the northern and western lines, their extremities being scarcely more than laid out. the extent of these defensive works, which was enormous in comparison with the number of troops at arabi's disposal, would seem to imply an inordinate reliance upon mere ditches and breastworks to keep out an enemy however vigorous. it led as a necessary consequence to the excessive spreading out of the defenders, and the fatal weakening of the force which could be gathered at any given point. had the same amount of labour been expended in several concentric lines, it would have resulted in a position of great strength, permitting the retiring, if necessary, from one line to the next, and an almost indefinite prolongation of the fight. the batteries were along the front, and were thus distributed. at the southern end of the line there were two well-built redoubts, mounting each three guns, on either bank of the canal. connecting the two, and stopping the flow of water in the fresh water canal, was a stout dam. on each side of the railway was one gun, in a small earthwork. in front of the lines running north and south, and distant about , yards, was a formidable outwork standing on rising ground. this was a polygonal redoubt, and mounted six guns. in the rear of this redoubt and on the lines was a -gun battery, behind which was a look-out and telegraph station, the wire running back to arabi's head-quarters near the railway station, and in the midst of a large camp. the diminished size of the ditch from this point northwards is very noticeable. the attack was evidently hoped for at and near the railway. following the lines in a northerly direction, the next battery was at the intersection of the two lines of intrenchments. this was the most elaborately finished of all the redoubts, and mounted five guns. still further in the same direction was another formidable battery of five guns.[ ] beyond this there were two other incomplete redoubts, further still to the northward, but this part of the line was hardly begun. as regards the east and west line, intersecting the lines running north and south, its object was to afford a defence in the event of the enemy succeeding in breaking through those lines at the northern end, their weakest part.[ ] to the eastward of the lines and in the direction of kassassin was a tolerably level desert with smooth sand and pebble. the information, received from spies and prisoners, was to the effect that the enemy's force at tel-el-kebir consisted of from to guns, twenty-four battalions of infantry ( , men), and three regiments of cavalry, together with about , bedouins, besides a force of , men with guns at salahieh,[ ] all under the immediate command of arabi himself. the general character of the ground lying between the two armies was that of gently undulating, pebbly slopes, rising gradually to an open plateau from ninety to a hundred feet above the valley through which the railway and canal ran. to have marched over this plateau upon the enemy's position by daylight, the british troops would have had to advance over a glacis-like slope, absolutely without cover, in full view of the enemy, and under the fire of his artillery, for about five miles. such an operation would have entailed heavy loss from an enemy with men and guns protected by intrenchments from any artillery fire which the attacking force could have brought to bear upon them. to have turned the egyptian position, either by the right or left, was an operation which would have entailed a wide turning movement, and, therefore, a long, difficult and fatiguing march, and moreover would not have accomplished the object wolseley had in view, namely, that of grappling with the enemy at such close quarters that he would be unable to shake himself free, except by a general fight of all his army. the object was to make the battle a final one, whereas a wide turning movement would probably only have forced arabi to retreat upon the cultivated country in his rear, where, the land being irrigated and cut up in every direction by deep canals, it would have been difficult for a regular army to follow him. influenced by these considerations, and also by the information that the enemy did not push his outposts far beyond his works at night, wolseley determined upon the difficult operation of a night march, to be followed by an attack on the egyptian position before daylight. as soon as it was dark on the evening of the th september, the camp at kassassin was struck, and all the tents and baggage were stacked alongside the railway. the camp fires were left burning. the troops then moved into position near a spot described as "ninth hill." there they formed in order of battle and bivouacked--no fires were allowed, even smoking was prohibited, and all were ordered to maintain the utmost silence.[ ] the formation of the troops was as follows:-- on the right, the st division, commanded by lieutenant-general willis, and consisting of two brigades, viz., the nd, under major-general graham, in front, and the st, or guards brigade, under the duke of connaught, in the rear; on the left, the nd division, commanded by lieutenant-general sir edward hamley, and consisting of two brigades, viz., the rd, or highland brigade, under major-general sir archibald alison, in front, and the th, under lieutenant-colonel ashburnham, in the rear. between the two divisions was placed the artillery brigade under brigadier-general goodenough. on the extreme right was the cavalry division under major-general drury-lowe, and on the extreme left, under major-general sir herbert macpherson, were the indian contingent and the naval brigade. at . on the morning of the th, the order was given for the advance of the st and nd divisions simultaneously, and the celebrated march on tel-el-kebir began. the indian contingent and the naval brigade did not move until an hour later, to avoid giving the alarm to the enemy, by the passing of the force through the numerous villages in the cultivated land south of the canal. the night was dark, and it was very difficult to maintain the desired formation. more than once the advancing lines, guided only by the light of the stars, formed somewhat of a crescent shape, and there was danger of the advancing force mistaking their comrades for parties of the enemy. several halts had to be made, as well for the purpose of resting the men as for that of correcting the formation. the final halt was made at a.m., and lasted nearly an hour. daybreak was the time fixed for the arrival at the enemy's lines, and it would have been as undesirable to have reached them too early as too late. there were practically three separate but nearly simultaneous infantry attacks, by the st division under general willis; by the nd division under general hamley, and away on the extreme left, south of the canal, by the indian contingent, under general macpherson. in point of time, general hamley's was somewhat earlier than the others, and general macpherson's the last of the three. the action began at early dawn. willis's leading brigade,[ ] commanded by general graham, was about yards from the intrenchments. partly owing to the difficulty of keeping a proper alignment during the night march, partly to the fact that the line of march was oblique to the line of the earthworks, and partly to the confusion created by an egyptian scout who galloped into the lines, willis was obliged to form again under fire, changing front forward on the left company, before assaulting. adopting the regular attack formation at yards distance, his men fired a volley, after which they rushed up to yards distance, fired a second volley, and then reached the ditch.[ ] here the fighting line was joined by the supports (the st battalion of the grenadiers, the scots and coldstreams), a last volley delivered, the ditch jumped, and amid the cheers of the soldiers the works cleared at the point of the bayonet. as soon as the brigade reached the parapet, the egyptians broke and ran, some stopping occasionally to fire back on their pursuers, who chased them until the artillery had got inside the works and had begun shelling the fugitives. this brigade struck the trenches not yards from the point aimed at. it was longer exposed to the egyptian fire than were the highlanders, whose attack had begun a few minutes before and had fully aroused the whole line of the defence, which had been sleeping on their arms behind the parapets. to the highland brigade,[ ] under general alison, fell the task of carrying the lines to the left. the first shots were fired at them at . a.m. from an egyptian picket posted about yards in front of the intrenchments, then visible yards distant from the highlanders. immediately afterwards the enemy opened with artillery and then with musketry. without returning this fire, the brigade advanced steadily for about yards further, when the fire became a perfect blaze. at yards bayonets were ordered to be fixed, and the bugle sounded the advance, when with a yell the scotchmen charged in the dim light through the smoke, carrying the lines in splendid style in the face of determined opposition. so stoutly was the position defended that in many places the assailants, after mounting the parapets, were forced back into the trenches below, only, however, to return and renew the assault. the left battalion, composed of the highland light infantry, struck the battery already described as situated at the intersection of the two lines of intrenchments. this redoubt had a high scarp, which held the centre companies for some moments till the flank companies got round it and took it. the enemy did not run far, but halted about yards in the rear of the works and delivered a heavy cross fire. the rest of the brigade pushed steadily on, driving the enemy before it and capturing three batteries of field guns. the advance was continued, and arabi's head-quarters and the canal bridge were seized at . a.m. the highland light infantry, which had suffered severely, soon after joined the rest of the brigade. the gallant highlanders' attack was made entirely with the bayonet, not a shot being fired until the men were within the enemy's lines. in the centre, between the two infantry attacks, marched the seven batteries of artillery, under general goodenough--and after the capture of the enemy's works did good service and inflicted considerable loss upon the enemy, in some instances firing canister at short ranges. on the extreme left the indian contingent[ ] and the naval brigade, under general macpherson, advanced steadily and in silence, the seaforth highlanders leading, until an advanced battery of the enemy was reached. from this the egyptian artillery had opened fire down the line of the canal, although it was still too dark for them to see the approaching troops clearly, whilst the infantry lost no time in opening a heavy fusillade. the highlanders deployed for attack, and then gallantly stormed the battery with a rush at the point of the bayonet. the egyptians retreated upon some villages close by, where they were pursued by a squadron of the bengal cavalry across the cultivated ground.[ ] the indian contingent scarcely lost a man--a happy circumstance, due to the excellent arrangements made by general macpherson, and to the fact that, starting one hour later than the st and nd divisions, the resistance of the enemy was so shaken by the earlier attacks north of the canal, that they soon gave way before the impetuous onslaught of the seaforth highlanders. on the extreme right the cavalry division,[ ] under general drury-lowe, was designedly late in arriving, being fully two miles distant when the first shot was fired at the highlanders. hearing the sound, the division quickened its pace, reaching the intrenchments in time to permit its two horse batteries to take in reverse and enfilade the lines north of general graham's assault, while the cavalry took up the pursuit of the runaways, most of whom threw away their arms, and, begging for mercy, were left unmolested. to have made them prisoners would have taken up too much time, the cavalry being required for the more important work of pushing on to cairo. the whole division, cavalry and horse artillery, united shortly after near the bridge over the canal, prior to advancing towards the capital. the british losses in the engagement were:-- total--nine officers and non-commissioned officers and men killed, officers and non-commissioned officers and men wounded, non-commissioned officers and men missing. grand total of casualties, all ranks, . the officers killed were as follows:-- nd battalion connaught rangers (attached to nd battalion royal irish regiment)--captain c. n. jones. royal marine light infantry--major h. h. strong, captain c. j. wardell. st battalion royal highlanders-- lieutenant graham stirling, lieutenant j. g. mcneill. st battalion gordon highlanders--lieutenant h. g. brooks. nd battalion highland light infantry--major colville, lieutenant d. s. kays, lieutenant l. somervelle. such is the general outline of the battle of tel-el-kebir. the egyptians had been sleeping in their trenches when the attack was made, and although in one sense surprised, were nevertheless quite ready.[ ] probably they never expected a night attack.[ ] at the same time there is no doubt that they knew the british army was in their immediate vicinity and might come on at any moment, and took precautions accordingly. the best proof of this is the blaze of fire with which both the nd brigade and the highland brigade were received. prisoners taken afterwards stated that the striking of the tents at sunset was observed, and that pickets were on the watch ever since. anyhow, the english forces, before they closed with the enemy, were subjected to a perfect hail of bullets. sir edward hamley, relating the attack of the nd division, writes as follows:-- "yet a minute or two elapsed after the egyptian bugle was blown, and then the whole extent of intrenchment in our front, hitherto unseen and unknown, poured forth a stream of rifle-fire. "the egyptian infantry," writes one witness, "clustered thickly in the parapets of the redoubts, and fired down the slopes into the trenches. hundreds of them, lying down, plied the heads of the advancing brigades with fire." a curious circumstance occurred with regard to the polygonal redoubt already described as standing , yards in advance of the lines. this was missed by the attacking forces, who must have passed within yards of the work. it is partly accounted for, however, by the prevailing darkness, and partly by the fact that the gunners in the redoubt, either asleep or unprepared, let the highland brigade march past them to the lines without firing a shot. it was only when day broke that the egyptian artillerymen called attention to the existence of the redoubt by aiming their guns and firing at the spot where sir garnet wolseley and his staff were assembled. this was too much, and the british artillery had to be sent for. after being under case and shrapnel fire for a short time, what was left of the garrison threw down arms and formed a stream of fugitives who, with ghastly wounds, poured out from the redoubt, and scattered over the country.[ ] the missing of this redoubt was one of the lucky incidents of the fight. had the advancing column been aware of its existence they must have paused to take it before storming the lines. in attacking the redoubt the position of the advancing force would have been at once revealed to the enemy, and the fire which was reserved for some minutes later would have at once opened. the egyptian guns were -centimetre and -centimetre krupp steel b.l.r. of the old pattern ( ), mounted on field-carriages. the small-arms were all remington breechloaders. the supply of ammunition was practically inexhaustible. at intervals of every three or four yards were found open boxes, each containing , cartridges. the trenches, after the battle, were found to be filled with dead, mostly bayoneted, and the ground in rear as far as the railway station was dotted with the bodies of those shot down in retreat. the british cavalry, sweeping around the northern end of the intrenchments, cut down the fugitives by scores, until it became evident that the rout was complete. most of the bodies were observed to be lying on their backs, as if the men had stopped to have a parting shot at their pursuers. the egyptian loss in killed was not far from , . there was no return of their wounded, the army organization having disappeared; but were treated at tel-el-kebir, during the four days succeeding the battle, twenty-seven capital operations being performed. of the wounded, were soon able to go to their homes, whilst the remainder were sent to cairo in charge of egyptian surgeons. the british medical authorities did all in their power to alleviate the sufferings of these poor creatures, and furnished tins of meat, bottles of brandy, and skins of water to those being conveyed away in the railway trucks. the greater number, who were slightly wounded, managed to get to the neighbouring villages, and therefore are not counted in the figures above given.[ ] it is stated--and the statement appears credible--that very few superior officers were killed or wounded; and arabi and his second in command were undoubtedly the first to escape. arabi himself mounted his horse and rode rapidly towards belbeis. there appears to be no doubt that proper leaders, in every sense of the word, were wanting in the egyptian army. it has been both humorously and truthfully remarked that each officer knew that _he_ would run, but hoped his _neighbour_ would stay. the egyptian soldiers, on the other hand, displayed real courage, as the struggles in the trenches and their heavy loss in killed abundantly prove. the black regiments, composed of negroes from the soudan, were especially noticeable for their pluck, fighting bravely hand to hand with their assailants. it has been well observed that more intelligence and less downright cowardice on the part of their officers might have converted these men into a formidable army. in the previous encounters between the english and the egyptians, the artillery and cavalry had borne the brunt of the fighting, and had carried off the honours, but the battle of tel-el-kebir was almost entirely an infantry action. the tactics employed, a direct assault without flank movements of any kind, were of the simplest description. the object, to get to close quarters with the enemy, and to crush him, was accomplished. after the attack, arabi's army ceased to exist. in scattered groups it might be found all over egypt, but as an organization it may be said to have been annihilated. in view of the complete success of sir garnet wolseley's tactics, comment is superfluous. it has been said by competent critics that the mode of attack adopted was rash to the degree of imprudence; that no commander would dare to employ such tactics against a european foe, and that a night march of nine miles could only be followed by an immediate and successful assault under circumstances so exceptional as to be providential. he has been blamed for having left his camp with his forces so early in the evening on the th, and having halted half-way from tel-el-kebir, and then only after midnight having set out again, a manoeuvre which might have endangered the whole result of the movement, and which, perhaps, may account for the surprise of the enemy's position not being so successful as it might have been. again, it has been said that besides a front attack, there should also have been a flank one, in conformity with ordinary military tactics. in reply to these and other criticisms, it may be sufficient to observe that the english commander-in-chief formed a just appreciation of his enemy, had a strong conviction as to the proper manner of engaging him, and had unbounded confidence in the officers and men under his own command. what sir garnet wolseley would have done had the enemy been of a different character is another question, the consideration of which does not come within the scope of the present work. the means adopted were exactly adjusted to the end to be attained, and the justification (if any were needed) for the risks run lies in the success which attended them. chapter xxiii. capture of cairo and collapse of the rebellion. when the egyptian regiments, mingled together in one wild and disorderly mass, once commenced their retreat, no chance of rallying was for a moment given them. the cannon in the redoubts were turned against their former occupants, and the guns of the royal horse artillery rained shrapnel shell on the fugitives. the cavalry, sweeping round from the north and charging in amongst them, completed the rout. the egyptians threw down their arms and scattered themselves across the country. arabi himself, with a few of his chief officers, caught the train at belbeis and got to cairo the same day, where it is said he began preparations for the destruction of the city.[ ] no time was lost in reaping the fruits of the morning's work. advances were at once ordered in two directions, the one along the railway to the important railway centre of zag-a-zig, whence a double line of railway proceeds to cairo _viâ_ benha, and a single line _viâ_ belbeis; the other road was along the ismailieh, or sweet water canal, to cairo. the enemy were pursued to zag-a-zig by the indian contingent, the leading detachment of which reached that place a little after p.m., and by the cavalry division to belbeis, which was occupied in the evening. the seizure of zag-a-zig was effected in the dashing manner peculiar to all the incidents of the day, and shows what may be done by a few bold men. the squadron of the th bengal cavalry left with the indian contingent led the way, and when within about five miles of the town broke into a gallop. the horses being somewhat fatigued by the hard work of the preceding twenty hours, were not in a condition to keep together, and, as a consequence, the best got to the front and the others dropped to the rear. the advanced part of the squadron was composed of major r. m. jennings, lieutenant burn-murdoch, r.e., and not above half-a-dozen troopers. these pushed right into the railway station, where were five trains filled with soldiers, and seven locomotives. at the sight of this handful of men, the engine-drivers either surrendered or ran away, except one, who began opening the throttle valve of his engine and was shot by lieutenant burn-murdoch, while the egyptian soldiers, hundreds in number, and too demoralized to think of resistance, threw away their arms, left the cars, and ran off as rapidly as possible. by nine p.m. the entire force under general macpherson had reached zag-a-zig, not a man having fallen out by the way. the cavalry division was ordered to push on with all possible speed to cairo, wolseley being most anxious to save the city from the fate which befell alexandria. the division, making an early start from belbeis on the th, and striking across the intervening desert, reached cairo at . p.m. the sun was setting as the cavalry arrived at the suburb of abbassieh. the men had been in the saddle since daybreak, at which time they had left belbeis. the men and horses were thoroughly exhausted after their long march under a blazing sun. but suffering from hunger, parched with thirst, and covered with dust as they were, they yet remained equal to the fulfilment of their task.[ ] the garrison of cairo was divided into two parts; one from , to , strong at abbassieh; the other, of from , to , men, at the citadel of mehemet ali, situated on a lofty eminence in the city, and strongly fortified. the former, on being summoned by colonel stewart, attached to general drury-lowe's force, to surrender unconditionally, at once complied. captain watson, r.e., was immediately sent on with two squadrons of the th dragoon guards, and a detachment of the mounted infantry, to demand a surrender of the citadel. no guides were available, but two egyptian officers, taken prisoners at abbassieh, were made to show the way, orderlies being told off to shoot them at once in case of treachery. the route taken was round by the tombs of the khalifs, outside the walls of cairo. the city was entered, without opposition, by the gate at the foot of the hill on which the citadel stands; by this means only a few hundred yards of the native quarter had to be traversed. it was now dark, such of the inhabitants as were met were perfectly tranquil, and only looked with curiosity at captain watson's party. arrived at the entrance to the citadel, the egyptian officer in command was sent for, and he at once agreed to give up possession of the place. the small british force marched in and took up position in fours between the outer and inner gates. the egyptian infantry, nearly , in number, with their arms, paraded by regiments in front of the great mosque of mehemet ali, inside the inner gate. they were then ordered to lay down their arms and march down to the kasr-el-nil barracks. this they proceeded to do quite quietly, and as they marched out they passed within a few yards of the english force, whose numbers were concealed by the darkness. as soon as the egyptian troops had all left the citadel, the various gates were handed over to captain watson's force. the gates were then closed and guards posted. it was now ten o'clock. the troopers were literally dead-beat. but there yet remained the task of taking possession of the fort on the mokattam hill, which was occupied by egyptian troops, and which commanded the citadel. watson, anxious to save his men as much as possible, sent one of the egyptian officers who had acted as a guide, and told him to order the garrison to march down towards kasr-el-nil barracks, and there pile their arms. the officer returned in a couple of hours with the keys of the fort, and informed watson that his orders had been carried out. in the dungeons of the citadel many unfortunate wretches were found in confinement. some of them were convicts, but several were political prisoners. they cried out in piteous terms to be set free. some actually managed to break loose, and fled with their chains clanking round their ankles. they were, however, retaken, and assured that as soon as it was light their cases should be inquired into, and such as were not convicts should be set free. a sentry was posted over the gate, with orders to shoot any one attempting to escape. one man did make the attempt, and was shot. it only remains to refer to the combination of courage, energy, and tact displayed by captain watson in thus, with a handful of men, taking possession of the strongest fortified work in cairo, held by a force more than a hundred times that of his own. it should be added that the egyptian officer who gave up the keys of the mokattam fort subsequently put in a claim for the war medal! the citadel being secured, the next step was to send a message to arabi pasha, through the prefect of police of the city, calling upon him to surrender, which he did unconditionally, accompanied by toulba pasha. the vigour shown by general drury-lowe in his march on cairo, and the inestimable results of that movement, together make it one of the most brilliant achievements of the whole campaign. by the successful attack on tel-el-kebir, sir garnet wolseley, at one blow, crushed the armed rebellion against the authority of the khedive. by general drury-lowe's successful march, the most beautiful of oriental cities was saved from destruction, and its european inhabitants from massacre. so well had sir garnet wolseley matured his plans before entering on the campaign, that he had predicted his arrival in cairo on the th september. as a fact, he arrived a day earlier, that is to say, on the morning of the th, when the railway brought him and the guards to cairo at the same time. arabis' account of tel-el-kebir and the subsequent events is as follows:-- "before our trenches, &c., were completed, the british forces attacked us suddenly at sunrise, the firing lasting for some time, when suddenly in our rear appeared a division of cavalry and artillery, which caused the flight of the egyptian troops on wednesday, the th september. "after the flight of the troops i left for belbeis, the english artillery following close behind me. when i arrived there i met ali pasha el roby, with whom i went to insbuz, and thence by train to cairo. "in cairo we found a council at the ministry of war, all the princes being present. after a long discussion, all being confident that england had no intention of annexing egypt, it was decided to offer no more resistance, more especially as england was renowned for dealing always towards others with equity and humanity; and we were confident that if the necessary inquiries were instituted, and the feeling of the people generally understood, england would do her utmost to put a stop to all injustice and give back freedom to them. "for this purpose i sent a telegram on the th september to the commander of the abbassieh troops, ordering him to hoist a flag of truce, and to proceed and meet the commander of the british troops, informing him at the same time that the war was altogether at an end, it being understood that the intention of the british government was to preserve the country from ruin.[ ] "the english troops arrived in cairo at sunset, and were met by riza pasha and ibrahim bey fawzi, the prefect of police. at . a.m. ibrahim bey fawzi came and informed me that general lowe desired to have an interview with me at abbassieh. the same day the officer in charge at kafr dowar (toulba pasha) came up to cairo and was summoned with myself to this interview. we thereupon went to general lowe. when toulba pasha met general lowe he asked us whether we were willing to give ourselves up as prisoners to the english government. we thereupon took off our swords and delivered them to general lowe, who was acting on behalf of the commander-in-chief, telling him at the same time that we only gave ourselves up to the english government because we were confident england would deal with us justly, and for the safety and peace of our country we had abandoned all idea of resistance, and had surrendered ourselves, being confident that england had no wish to annex the country. the general agreed with this statement, and we remained with him three days, and then were sent to abdin, and were treated kindly and well." in the following telegram to abdel-el-al, in command at damietta, the defeat at tel-el-kebir was thus described by yacoub pasha, the under secretary of state for war, who had been with arabi in the insurgent camp:-- "at half-past ten (turkish time) the enemy attacked the line of intrenchments, and firing commenced on both sides. we caused a large number of the enemy to perish beside the intrenchments. i found a train about to leave tel-el-kebir, and got in with a few wounded. i know nothing after that, except that on leaving tel-el-kebir i saw that a train had been smashed." the manner in which the news of the fight reached the agricultural population may be gathered from the following extract from the work of one of the native historians of the british occupation of egypt:-- "the peasants were relating to each other one morning the news of a great victory by which the land forces of the invading foreigner had received a blow, when suddenly a peasant rode into the village on a cavalry horse, without his coat, belt, or arms, and announced that the english were coming! he related how he had been in the camp of tel-el-kebir, how he and his comrades had been aroused before daybreak by a dreadful fire of musketry and artillery, and how, before they had time to prepare themselves for defence, the nimble foreigners came scampering over the intrenchments and right into the very heart of the camp. satan must have aided them, for there was no possibility of resistance, and even arabi fled! by this time, he thought, the english must be in cairo, for they were nimble, cunning dogs and sons of dogs, and nobody could resist them." the submission of the egyptian army in cairo was speedily followed by surrenders in other places--kafr dowar, aboukir, and rosetta yielded without a struggle. fort ghemil, near port saïd, was occupied on the st september by the british. damietta was the last to hold out. a british force, consisting of the berkshire, shropshire, south staffordshire, and sussex regiments, under sir evelyn wood, was despatched against it on the nd september, after negotiations with the commandant abdel-el-al had failed. a portion of the fleet under admiral dowell was ordered to co-operate. however, on the rd, abdel-el-al, hearing of these preparations, capitulated with all his forces. the surrender of the egyptian army at kafr dowar was an event of importance. but to render what follows intelligible, as well as for the sake of completeness, it is necessary to preface the history of that event with an account of occurrences at alexandria subsequent to the departure of sir garnet wolseley for the canal. on the st august, the khedive relieved ragheb pasha and his colleagues of their duties, and named cherif pasha president of the council of ministers. with him was associated riaz pasha, who had in the meantime returned from europe. after the departure of wolseley for port saïd and ismailia, general hamley took the local command, and the fresh transports constantly arriving at alexandria were very welcome to reinforce the garrison, which had been considerably weakened by the departure of the main body of the army. only two ships of war were left in harbour, the _invincible_ and _inconstant_, which latter vessel had lately arrived from england. the military operations dwindled into insignificance. both sides confined themselves to strengthening their positions and to making small reconnaissances. round mex the bedouins kept the troops well on the alert, and several minor skirmishes took place. about august th, the defences of ramleh were strengthened by the mounting of three additional guns. two were taken from the hospital battery at ras-el-tin, and the third was found unmounted near mex fort. on the st of august a party of bluejackets from the _minotaur_ landed at night and demolished, by gun-cotton, a house near the british advanced posts on the mahmoudieh canal, which afforded cover to the enemy. some native houses opposite the villa antoniades, which had been used by the bedouins as a place whence to take shots at our posts there, had for the same reason to be destroyed. on the st september, generals hamley and alison and the highland brigade sailed for port saïd and ismailia, general sir evelyn wood being left in command. anxious to make the rebel leader believe that the chief attack would be on kafr dowar, and to prevent him from sending away his troops to strengthen other positions, the british troops contrived daily to harass the egyptian lines. generally the reconnaissances took place at dusk, as the egyptians seemed to prefer withdrawing their troops under the cover of the darkness. grown wary by experience, they refused to be drawn out in force, but limited themselves to a brisk artillery fire. it was at this time that an attempt was made to cut the dyke at mex, in order to flood lake mareotis, the level of which at this season was some feet lower than that of the sea. although it was reckoned that it would take some weeks in this way to raise the water of the lake to its proper level, the stratagem was not devoid of merit. one of its objects was to enable steam launches with guns to harass the flank of the enemy's position at kafr dowar. early in september, mahmoud fehmi, already referred to as having been made prisoner by sir garnet wolseley's force, was brought to alexandria, and, in return for a promise to spare his life, furnished full details of arabi's plans and position. on the th september, alexandria received the news of the victory of tel-el-kebir with the wildest delight. early in the morning it was known that the fight had begun, and great excitement was manifested by all classes. about eleven in the forenoon, when the facts were published, this feeling increased perceptibly. all business was suspended. processions of europeans were formed, and, preceded by bands of music, paraded amid the ruins of the town. hats and helmets were thrown into the air, and cheers and cries of "viva inghilterra!" resounded on all sides. the bands played "god save the queen" and the khedivial hymn by turns. crowds rushed for the english soldiers on guard at the tribunals, and embraced them frantically. sir edward malet, the english consul-general, called to congratulate the khedive, who also received a congratulatory message from the queen. never before had the english been so popular in alexandria. it took some days before the excitement cooled down and things resumed their ordinary course. kafr dowar was given up to sir evelyn wood on the th september. yacoub sami, arabi's sub-minister of war, represented him on this occasion. some , men in all laid down their arms. there were captured horses, field-guns with their equipments, and , remington rifles. the captured men were allowed to disband, and the officers were lodged as prisoners in the palace at ramleh. general wood and his staff went out by rail, preceded, as a measure of precaution, by the armour-clad train. the th regiment had been previously sent forward as an escort. arrived at the bridge crossing the mahmoudieh canal, the party proceeded on horseback to fort aslam, as the most advanced of the earthworks of kafr dowar was called. this formed a part of three long lines of redoubts, flanked on both sides by swampy and impassable ground, and running at right angles across the railway and canal. these defences were supplemented by shelter-trenches and rifle-pits. the position was one of great strength, and if held by good soldiers could only have been taken, if at all, at a great sacrifice of life. each line of redoubts had a ditch of feet in width in front of it. the distance between the first and second lines was , metres, and between the second and third , metres. fort aslam was the strongest of the redoubts, and was pierced with embrasures for guns. the passage for the railway trains was blocked by a large mass of masonry, which sir evelyn wood at once caused to be blown up with dynamite. fort aslam was capable of being easily defended by good soldiers. the garrison, however, had disappeared, leaving only a dozen or so of officers, including yacoub sami, who came forward to meet the english commander. in the fort, which appeared to have suffered but slightly, were found horses, besides quantities of arms and ammunition abandoned by the soldiers. amongst the cannon were some mounted krupp guns. between the first and second lines the remains of one camp for about , men were found, and between the second and third lines, of another camp for the rest of the army. on all sides were found horses and mules, mixed pell-mell with carriages, still loaded with silks, clothes, calico, &c., from the shops and houses pillaged in alexandria. the third line of defence, that situated at kinje osman, the nearest point to kafr dowar, was inferior to other parts of the defence, being provided only with two insignificant bastions, armed with old cannons and a long line of rifle-pits extending across the railway. behind it, in the camp of kafr dowar, stood , soldiers, armed with remington rifles, waiting to surrender to the british army. there were also several batteries of artillery and two squadrons of cavalry. the men were anything but warlike in appearance. many of them had already thrown away their uniforms, and the greater part wore only the dress of the ordinary fellah. the natives met with along the line showed not the slightest sign of hostility. on the contrary, they tried to conceal their evident uneasiness at the sight of the british force by assuming a pleased air, and waving white rags as a substitute for flags of truce. at kafr dowar itself, crowds of arabs, mostly refugees from alexandria, were congregated. many of these were pillagers and incendiaries of the worst class, and strict orders had to be given to prevent their returning to the scene of their former exploits. yacoub sami, on giving up his sword to general wood, assured him that no one had been throughout more loyal to the khedive than he, yacoub sami, had been; and as for arabi, he was simply a scoundrel and a monster who had refused to listen to yacoub's loyal counsels. one of the first questions put by general wood was as to what had become of a lieutenant named paolucci, who had deserted some weeks before from the italian ironclad _castelfidardo_ to join arabi. this officer, in his endeavour to reach the rebels' lines, had the misfortune to fall into the hands of bedouins, who used him in the most brutal manner. eventually, after five days' wandering, he succeeded in finding his way to the camp at kafr dowar, but in a pitiable condition. he was destitute of every rag of clothing, and so exhausted as to be barely able to stand on his legs. arabi, on hearing him say that his wish was to serve the cause of liberty, allowed him to be removed to the camp ambulance, where he remained till the surrender. in reply to general wood, m. paolucci himself was produced. he was now dressed in an egyptian officer's uniform much too large for him, and was still suffering acutely. the general, without making any observation, handed m. paolucci over to two marines, with instructions to conduct him to the italian consul at alexandria.[ ] m. ninet, who had been in the enemy's lines ever since the bombardment and subsequent destruction of alexandria, had, it was ascertained, left for cairo on receipt of the news of the taking of tel-el-kebir. general wood at once gave orders for clearing the railway. civilians were requisitioned for the work, and so well was this carried out that the following day, which was fixed for the surrender of the arms, the trains were running freely between kafr dowar and alexandria. two british battalions were despatched on the th, to encamp at kafr dowar, and to take delivery of the egyptian arms. the army which was to surrender had then practically disappeared. the rifles were piled, the officers were in charge, but their men, they said, "had gone off to the fields."[ ] general wood received the same day the submission of about , men from aboukir and , from mex. on the th, the khedive signed a decree disbanding the egyptian army. one of the most remarkable features of the campaign was the rapidity with which it was conducted. from the firing of the first gun at the bombardment on the th july until the occupation of cairo, but sixty-six days elapsed, the campaign proper occupying only twenty-five in all. it served also to illustrate the power of moving large bodies of troops by sea with a rapidity and certainty of concentration impossible on land. the difference between the power of steam and sails in connection with military operations may be seen from the following examples:-- on the th may, , napoleon sailed for egypt from toulon with favouring winds; nevertheless, it was not until the th june (according to some reports the th) that he reached even his first port of call, malta, thus occupying no less than twenty-three days on this short voyage, and it was not till the st july that he arrived off alexandria. in , when indian troops were despatched to assist in expelling the french from egypt, the first detachment sailed from bombay on the th december, but did not get to suez till the end of april, , and the remainder, following some days later, only arrived at kosseir, on the red sea, _en route_ to keneh, on the nile, on the th june, nearly six months later. as a contrast to the above, the head of the column of british transports left england on the th july, , and arrived at alexandria on the th august, thus completing the voyage in only eleven days. much has been made of the rapidity of the french invasion of egypt, but, after all, napoleon only entered cairo on the rd july, that is, sixty-five days after leaving france, whereas wolseley left england on the nd august, made the long sea-voyage by way of gibraltar, and arrived in cairo forty-five days after, viz., on the th september. with regard to tel-el-kebir, the shortness of the time occupied in storming the intrenchments has been made use of, more especially by foreign critics, to lessen the credit of the victory. without pretending that the battle was more than, comparatively speaking, a small affair, exceedingly well-managed, the number of casualties relatively to the number of the attacking force shows that there was a real resistance, and that the fighting on both sides was more serious than is generally supposed. the news of the victory of tel-el-kebir, the capture of cairo, and the close of the war, produced a profound sensation in europe. in england the greatest enthusiasm was manifested, and to the events of the campaign was given an importance perhaps in excess of their actual merits.[ ] on the continent, however, the opposite was the case. the very journals which only a week before had declared that, in undertaking to subdue arabi, england had assumed a task the difficulties of which she had scarcely calculated, now went to the other extreme, and described tel-el-kebir as a mere military promenade. in the "débats," m. gabriel channes wrote that the fears that an egyptian campaign would prove hazardous were groundless. the only difficulties which the english army had to encounter were due to the vast amount of baggage it had to transport, owing to the men carrying nothing but their arms. according to the same article an army less burdened would have beaten arabi and reached cairo in a few days; and if the campaign had lasted some weeks, this was only due to the slowness of the attack. the "avenir militaire" maintained that sir garnet wolseley did not shorten the campaign by transferring his base to ismailia, and that the qualities of the english troops were not exposed to a very severe ordeal. "the attack on tel-el-kebir," it added, "against troops ill on the watch, succeeded with a promptitude which rendered a portion of those qualities useless." many of the continental journals went further, and unable in any other way to explain the dashing fight which in twenty minutes placed all egypt at england's feet, boldly asserted that the victory was bought and paid for by english gold. they even named the exact sum, viz., £e , . it was, perhaps, unfortunate that the late professor palmer's ill-fated expedition into the sinaitic desert to secure the neutrality of the bedouins, at a price of £ , , should have given an apparent colour to these reports.[ ] one author,[ ] whose writings, however, are not always to be accepted as accurate, states that sultan pasha (already referred to as the president of the chamber of notables) was attached to wolseley's force with the object of securing by large bribes the fidelity of the bedouins in the district between ismailia and zag-a-zig. according to the same authority, the bedouins received from £ to £ a head, and much of the money found its way into the pockets of officers of the egyptian army from the rank of lieutenant to that of colonel. the events of tel-el-kebir are thus referred to by the same writer:-- "on the th september, arabi learned towards twelve o'clock, from a bedouin sheikh, that the english would attack _en masse_ the lines of tel-el-kebir towards two o'clock in the morning on the th, throwing themselves on belbeis to open the road to cairo. it was then necessary to guard this point, formerly fortified by the french. arabi consequently telegraphed to toulba pasha at kafr dowar to send at once one of his best battalions, the last, or nearly the last, which remained to him, with orders to be in line of battle at tel-el-kebir at daybreak on the th. at one a.m. the train brought this detachment, which only arrived at zag-a-zig long after everything was finished. the battalion then returned on its steps in company with the fugitives from the battlefield. "at tel-el-kebir, during the night, between two and three a.m., at the first rifle shots, the bedouins, _en masse_, threw themselves on the egyptian lines, shouting like demons, and causing the wildest confusion. the native troops knew not who was with them or against them. whole regiments ran like hares without striking a blow (_sic_), and the english, astonished to encounter so little resistance, massacred the fugitives as if at a shooting-party; , trained men belonging to the infantry, all that the army of the east possessed, faced the enemy, and with the last vestiges of the artillery, fired valiantly as long as they were able. more than half of them perished. "it is confidently asserted that several of the egyptian officers, hindered in their flight by the gold which they had in their pockets, seeking to lighten themselves, were arrested and pillaged by the soldiers of one of the black regiments. as to the bedouins, their treason was so well arranged by agreement with sultan pasha, that they, with the speed of the wind, quitted their cantonments without molestation." in considering m. ninet's narrative, it must be remembered that he was, from first to last, an avowed ally of the arabist party, and also that his sentiments towards england had always been of the most unfriendly character. that, under these circumstances, he should seek to explain sir garnet wolseley's success by suggesting treachery and corruption is not altogether unnatural. it is quite possible that, as regards the corruption of the bedouins, sultan pasha, as an egyptian official, may have acted in the manner described. but that, as suggested by the continental press, english gold was employed by sir garnet wolseley to secure his victory is too ridiculous for serious consideration. had it been the desire of the british government to purchase tel-el-kebir in the manner stated, it is incredible that by the expenditure of a little additional capital an entirely bloodless victory should not have been obtained. further than this, arabi himself, in all the explanations which he gave of the war, never once hinted at the means alleged by his apologists as having brought about his defeat. the story of the egyptian officers being so heavily weighted with gold as to be unable to make good their retreat reads more like an oriental fable than anything else. the conclusion is that gold had as much to do with the taking of tel-el-kebir as the blasts of joshua's trumpets had to do with bringing down the walls of jericho. chapter xxiv. england and the porte. as already stated, on the th august sir garnet wolseley started from alexandria with the british force, and two days later port saïd, ismailia, and kantara were occupied. notwithstanding this, the negotiations with the porte for the despatch of the turkish troops were being, outwardly at least, pressed on by lord dufferin. the turkish ministers continued to make objections to the terms of the proposed military convention referred to in chapter xv. meanwhile the export of mules, purchased in asia minor for the use of the british force, was stopped, and the drivers were imprisoned. the unfriendly conduct of the turkish government in delaying the removal of this prohibition led to remonstrances on the part of lord dufferin. it was not until the rd august that the sultan ordered that the mules and drivers were to be allowed to be embarked. he, at the same time, sent lord dufferin a personal message urging that alexandria should be the port of disembarkation for the turkish troops. after an interview with the turkish ministers, lord dufferin agreed to submit the sultan's request to the british government, and the sultan's ministers finally accepted all the other clauses of the military convention, with certain amendments. when, however, the issue of the proclamation against arabi was demanded, the ministers changed round, and proposed to throw aside the proclamation which had been agreed upon, by which arabi was declared to be a rebel, and to issue a mere appeal to his loyalty. lord dufferin, assuming an air of surprise at this breach of faith, refused indignantly to listen to any such suggestion, and informed the ministers that he would not sign the convention until the proclamation had been officially communicated. on the th lord dufferin was instructed that her majesty's government could not accept the amendments made in the convention. again the turkish ministers sought out lord dufferin with messages from the sultan, pressing that the landing might be at alexandria, and assuring the ambassador that the proclamation should be communicated the moment that the heads of the convention were agreed to. things began to look as if they were in a way to be arranged, when it was discovered, on the th, that the instructions given for the despatch of the mules and the release of the drivers had been cancelled by an order from the palace. lord dufferin was at once instructed that if this information was correct it was no longer possible for him to continue the negotiations. on the th the turkish ministers accepted aboukir as the place of disembarkation, and promised that before the convention was signed they would communicate the proclamation officially, and order its publication in egypt. lord dufferin was instructed that he might sign the convention on the preliminary condition that the mules and drivers should be released, and a promise given by the porte to assist in sending them to egypt, and that the proclamation should be issued at once. on the th lord dufferin reported that he had settled the text of the convention with the sultan's ministers. the th passed without any further communication from the porte; but in the middle of the night said pasha called upon lord dufferin at therapia, with a further message from the sultan, urging that the troops should go to aboukir _viâ_ alexandria; and in the morning the pasha came again with the sultan's private secretary, and stated that his majesty was ready to take any step to remove lord granville's misgivings if he were only allowed to land his troops at alexandria. he was willing to reduce their number from that originally proposed to , , or even , . baker pasha might go second in command, and take with him as many english officers as he pleased, and the turkish troops should be as much under english control as they were in the crimea. the extraordinary anxiety of the sultan to show his troops in egypt at this period is to be accounted for on the supposition that he foresaw the impending collapse of the arabi revolt, and was desirous that it should not be accomplished without his appearing, at all events, to have taken part in its suppression. the presence of but a single turkish battalion in alexandria would have sufficed to enable him to claim the credit of overthrowing arabi and his followers. it was, however, not to be. the sultan's views were now diametrically at variance with those of the british cabinet. sir garnet wolseley was, at this time, well to the front, and there was little doubt that he would soon bring the war to a close. under these circumstances, the presence of a turkish force in egypt would only be a source of embarrassment. accordingly it was necessary to finesse and to play off upon the porte its own tricks of delay and dissimulation. lord dufferin was therefore instructed to inform the porte that her majesty's government were willing to meet its proposals, and to receive , , or even , troops; but that, in view of the strong objections to alexandria, it would be preferable that the landing should take place in the suez canal. on the rd september the turkish ministers were willing that the troops should go to port saïd, promising at the same time that the proclamation should be issued immediately. on the th august lord granville had authorized the ambassador to conclude the convention as soon as the proclamation should be published, the words "such point or points on the canal as may be previously arranged with the british commander-in-chief" being substituted for aboukir. on lord dufferin proceeding to the porte on the th september to sign the convention, he found that the proclamation had that morning appeared in the newspapers in a changed form. lord dufferin thereupon declined to sign. said pasha said that the publication, as it stood, was an act of heedlessness, and he undertook that a correction should be published in the official journal. a further discussion ensued as to the form of the stipulation respecting the landing of the turkish troops in the canal, said pasha objecting to the words proposed by lord granville, and pressing for the mention of port saïd. lord dufferin accepted, _ad referendum_, an amended paragraph to the effect that the turkish forces should proceed to port saïd, and from thence to whatever point or points might be agreed upon between the two commanders-in-chief. the british government, however, insisted that the clause should state that the turkish troops would "enter the canal at port saïd and proceed from thence," whilst the sultan wished to substitute the word "débarqueront" for "se rendront à port saïd." on the th september the ottoman plenipotentiaries, who seemed unconscious that they were being played with all the time, came to the embassy with copies of the conventions and memorandum for signature. they were authorized to accept the words "se rendront à port saïd." lord dufferin, however, having in the meantime been informed of the views of her majesty's government, stated that he could not accept them. his lordship would agree to the retention of the words on the understanding that a paragraph should be inserted in the memorandum, explaining the meaning of the words to be that the troops should "direct their course to port saïd in order to enter the canal." it was now the eve of tel-el-kebir, and lord dufferin suddenly discovered that it was necessary to suspend negotiations on account of the arrest by the turkish authorities of a number of porters who had been engaged at sir garnet wolseley's request for service in egypt. the men were released the same day with a promise that such proceedings should not be repeated. the signature of the convention, as further amended, was authorized by telegram from lord granville, on the th, on the condition that the proclamation should be issued with the amendment required by her majesty's government. on the th the battle of tel-el-kebir took place. on the th lord granville instructed lord dufferin, that, in view of the defeat and submission of the egyptian insurgents, the british government contemplated shortly commencing the withdrawal of the british troops from egypt, and presumed that, the emergency having passed, the sultan would not consider it necessary to send troops; and on the th his lordship was authorized to convey to the sultan, in the most courteous terms, the permission given to his lordship to drop the negotiation of the military convention. he was at the same time to express to his majesty that the british government conceived this step to be most consistent with the dignity of the two countries, and that it was not intended or calculated to alter the good and friendly relations between them. the sultan now began to realize how completely befooled he had been. it was necessary, however, to put a good face on the matter. the turkish foreign minister accordingly answered by expressing the deep satisfaction of the sultan and his government at the sentiments expressed on behalf of the british government. he declared that the wish of turkey was to maintain unaltered the old friendship between the two countries. finally, the minister asked, a little anxiously, what date had been fixed on for the evacuation by the british troops. this last question was met by lord dufferin reminding the sultan of the sacrifices made by england in order to restore order in egypt; and stating that whilst those sacrifices had given england power, that power had thrown upon her great responsibility; that the egyptian army being disbanded, until the khedive had organized the means of securely maintaining his authority it was impossible for england to withdraw her troops, although she had already greatly diminished their number, and had no wish to keep any in egypt longer than was justified by the circumstances. with regard to the overtures for a closer alliance, lord dufferin pointed out that the sultan would remember that the like offer had been made by him on several occasions, without any practical results, owing to the apparent change of his majesty's views. his lordship concluded by giving the porte a little lecture, pointing out that offers of friendship were unsatisfactory without some tangible proof of the willingness of the ottoman government to adopt that line of conduct which could alone render their friendship acceptable to english public opinion; and suggested that that proof might be given by inaugurating those internal reforms which were indispensable to the existence of the empire and to the maintenance of a really good understanding with england. no better way can be found of concluding the present chapter than by giving an extract from his lordship's despatch of the th september, , to lord granville, which runs as follows:-- "in fact, i can only reiterate that from first to last i have used every means at my disposal to induce the turkish government to move quickly and to settle the matter out of hand. i told them at the commencement that i had your lordship's instructions to press forward the convention with all despatch; that your private letters, as well as your public despatches, evinced your desire to see that instrument executed; that in asking me to telegraph to your lordship these repeated references, they were playing into our hands, and that their conduct was so obviously contrary to their interests, that europe had begun to misjudge the situation. while ruining my reputation as an honest man, they were enhancing it as a diplomatist, for it had begun to be believed that the delay in signing the convention could not possibly result from their own incomprehensible shortsightedness, but must have been artificially created by the machiavellian astuteness of the english ambassador." chapter xxv. restoration of tewfik and exile of arabi. on the th september the khedive was able to return to cairo, where a great portion of sir garnet wolseley's forces had assembled. he entered the capital at . in the afternoon, and was received with great apparent enthusiasm. his highness drove from the railway station in an open carriage with the duke of connaught, sir garnet wolseley, and sir edward malet. the streets through which he passed were lined the whole way by soldiers of the british army. next followed a series of complimentary banquets and a distribution of honours and rewards to the officers of the british forces. the order of the first class of the osmanieh was conferred by the sultan upon sir beauchamp seymour and sir garnet wolseley.[ ] other officers also received decorations dealt out with a liberal hand. later on, an egyptian medal, in the shape of a bronze star, was struck, and presented by the khedive to the whole of the british forces who took part in the campaign. by the british government both sir garnet wolseley and sir beauchamp seymour were created peers of the united kingdom, and a sum of £ , was voted by parliament for each of them. an english war medal for egypt was also issued to the forces engaged. with the exception of a small force left at alexandria, port saïd, and ismailia, the whole of the british army was concentrated in cairo, to be reviewed by the khedive, in the square in front of the palace of abdin. the review, which was preceded by a march through the native quarter of the city, took place on the very spot where arabi and his mutinous troops had defied the khedive just a twelvemonth before. the british soldiers, in spite of the hardships of the campaign, presented an imposing appearance, the indian regiments especially attracting attention. as soon as the effervescence which followed the restoration had a little subsided, the egyptian government and its english advisers began to take thought for the morrow. a decision was arrived at to reduce the british forces to , men, which henceforth constituted the army of occupation. the egyptian army having been disbanded, and there being no other native force available to maintain order, it became absolutely necessary, apart from any political considerations, to retain this number of sir garnet wolseley's soldiers. in announcing their intentions, the british government informed the egyptian ministry that england was prepared to defray all expenditure incurred in the suppression of the rebellion, the date of the conclusion of which was fixed at the th september. it was also intimated that from that date egypt would be expected to repay all extraordinary expenses which the retention of the queen's troops in egypt would entail on the exchequer of the united kingdom. the contribution for the , men to be retained was fixed at £ a month per man, making a maximum monthly charge of £ , . the egyptian government was at the same time informed that it was desired to withdraw the troops from egypt as soon as circumstances would permit, and that such withdrawal would be effected from time to time as the security of the country would allow. pursuant to the intention above indicated, arrangements were at once made for a considerable reduction in the strength of the army of occupation. the indian contingent embarked, and sir garnet wolseley, as well as a great portion of the army under his command, left for england, major-general sir archibald alison assuming the command. the importance attached by her majesty's government to egyptian affairs at this time was shown by the appointment, early in november, of lord dufferin to proceed thither on a special mission. his lordship, who had filled successively the posts of under-secretary of state for india, governor-general of canada, ambassador at st. petersburg, and ambassador at constantinople, was undoubtedly the most capable man at the disposal of the british government, and his mission was everywhere hailed with satisfaction as preliminary to a satisfactory settlement of the affairs of that country. lord dufferin's instructions were "to advise the government of the khedive in the arrangements which would have to be made for re-establishing his highness's authority and providing for the future well-being of all classes of the population." lord dufferin arrived at alexandria on the th november, and was received with all the honours due to his rank. he left for cairo the same day, the khedive placing a palace at his disposal. it is greatly to lord dufferin's credit that one of the first matters to which he directed his attention was a question of humanity, viz., the lot of the many unfortunates whom the late events had relegated to egyptian prisons. it was not to be expected that the khedivial party should triumph without seeking to wreak vengeance on the heads of their conquered adversaries. consequently arrests were made wholesale, and the egyptian prisons were overcrowded. the object of the khedive's advisers seemed to be to make what in sporting language would be called a "big bag." of the leaders of the rebellion, as already stated, mahmoud fehmi had been captured at kassassin, and arabi and toulba had surrendered at abbassieh. in addition to these, mahmoud sami had been arrested by the police in cairo. yacoub sami had given himself up at kafr dowar, and abdel-el-al at damietta. besides these, there were about , other political prisoners in the various gaols of upper and lower egypt. these individuals comprised all classes of the population, sheikhs from the mosques, officers and privates of the army, members of the civil service, police officials, merchants and land-owners. the charges against many of these people were of the vaguest character, such as "stirring up public feeling against the khedive," "assisting the rebels," &c.; some of them were absolutely ludicrous, and comprised such offences as "dressing up dogs to imitate sir garnet wolseley, and then shooting at them." there was reason to believe that a considerable number of the persons arrested were denounced by their neighbours to gratify private malice or revenge. many others were arrested simply as a matter of precaution, or because they were adherents of halim or ismail pasha. as may be supposed, the prisoners necessarily suffered considerable hardships from overcrowding. but besides this, instances of ill-usage, and occasionally of torture, were brought to the notice of the british authorities. to remedy these evils inspectors were appointed to visit the prisons, and the agents of the british government made strong representations to the egyptian authorities to obtain a speedy gaol delivery. their remonstrances took effect. a decree was issued amnestying all sub-lieutenants, lieutenants, and captains in the army (except those who took part in the demonstrations of the st february and the th september, ), those who were under arms on the th july, and those who voluntarily enrolled themselves since that date, such persons being, nevertheless, degraded and deprived of their rank and pensions. special commissions were also instituted at cairo, alexandria, and tantah, for the purpose of investigating charges against political offenders. the most important of these were arabi and the other rebel leaders. the trial of the ringleaders of the rebellion was naturally one of the first things to be taken in hand after the suppression of the rebellion itself. as was only to be expected under the circumstances, the khedive and his advisers were in favour of treating arabi and his associates with the utmost severity. in this the government met with general support. public opinion in egypt, especially amongst europeans, was from the first naturally hostile to arabi. those who had suffered by the rebellion were not likely to be over-lenient in their views towards the rebels, and the local european press clamoured loudly for their condign punishment. opinion in europe was divided on the question. in france and italy, especially, it became the fashion to extol arabi as a sort of african garibaldi, whose only fault was his want of success. the same view prevailed to some extent in england also, thanks to the agitation got up by sir william gregory, mr. wilfred blunt, and others. even amongst those who did not believe in either arabi or the movement of which he was the head, there was a suspicion that he was not more guilty than the sultan and the khedive, and a feeling that it would be unjust to punish him whilst they were allowed to go free. the egyptian government, in dealing with the rebels, had not, however, altogether a free hand. sir garnet wolseley, in august, had proposed that prisoners taken in the course of the military operations in egypt should be handed over to the khedive. this was approved by the british government, but subject to the important condition that none of the prisoners should be put to death without the previous consent of the british authorities. this condition the egyptian government accepted. the necessity of some means being found of speedily proceeding with the trial of arabi was more than once pressed by sir edward malet upon the khedive. public feeling in egypt among the natives was much excited, and all manner of absurd stories were told about arabi and his relations with the british government. these circulated freely in the bazaars, and were readily believed by the more ignorant and fanatical of the population. early in october, two english barristers, mr. a. m. broadley and the honourable mark napier, arrived in cairo to conduct the defence of the rebel leaders. the egyptian government objected that, by the code under which the proposed court martial was to be convened, prisoners were not allowed counsel. sir edward malet, however, insisted, and the egyptian authorities yielded the point. next, the government put every difficulty in the way. at first they refused permission to mr. broadley and his colleague to see their clients, and then they were told that they could not be permitted to be present at the preliminary investigation. thanks to the firmness of sir edward malet, who was determined that arabi should have a fair trial, these troubles were surmounted, and an agreement as to the procedure to be adopted was come to by borelli bey, a french advocate who acted for the egyptian government, and arabi's legal advisers. the _acte d'accusation_, or indictment, was to the following effect:-- . arabi, toulba, mahmoud sami, mahmoud fehmi, and omar ráhmi[ ] were charged with having abused the flag of truce on the th of july, by withdrawing the troops and pillaging and burning alexandria, whilst the flag was flying. . arabi, toulba, mahmoud sami, mahmoud fehmi, omar ráhmi, and ali fehmi were charged with having incited the egyptians to arm against the government of the khedive.[ ] . all six prisoners were charged with having incited the people to civil war, and with having committed acts of destruction, massacre, and pillage on egyptian territory. . arabi, mahmoud fehmi, toulba, and mahmoud sami were charged with having continued the war after they had heard that peace was concluded.[ ] the counsel for the accused first appeared before the commission appointed to conduct the preliminary inquiry on the st october. in the meantime, the commission had collected a mass of hearsay evidence, none of it on oath, and consisting mainly of letters and memoranda and of depositions taken, according to the egyptian procedure, _ex parte_ in the absence of the prisoners and their counsel. it is noteworthy that the president of the commission, ismail pasha eyoub, had been himself a prominent member of the council of national defence, and had actually been with arabi in the camp at kafr dowar. the contention of mr. broadley was that, from first to last, the sublime porte approved the action of his clients, also that the khedive for a long period prior to the commencement of hostilities wavered systematically between the two parties, and that after the arrival of dervish pasha he acquiesced at three cabinet councils in the early phases of resistance to the english (an assertion in great measure borne out by the ambiguous terms of the subsequent proclamations). in addition to the foregoing, mr. broadley relied on the fact that arabi, rightly or wrongly, really headed a great national movement, that he received the moral and material support of nearly the whole of egypt, and that he was only deserted when he failed to secure success. it must be admitted that the documents in the possession of the accused went a long way to bear out these contentions. it soon became evident that the principal part of the charges against arabi and his associates could not be sustained, and sir charles wilson (formerly consul-general in anatolia), who attended the proceedings as delegate of the british government, reported to lord dufferin as follows:-- "the only direct evidence incriminating arabi was that of suleiman sami,[ ] who stated that arabi had not only ordered him to burn alexandria, but to kill the khedive. the evidence of this man was open to grave suspicion. he was arrested at crete and brought to alexandria, where he was received by the governor and the préfet de police, one of whom accompanied him some distance in the train. immediately on his arrival at cairo he was brought before an extraordinary sitting of the commission, which lasted till between eight and nine p.m. no notice was sent to me of the prisoner's arrival, or of the intention of the commission to examine him, though i live close to the building in which the commission sits. the next morning, when suleiman sami's examination was continued, he was confronted with two other prisoners, who at once contradicted his statements on important points. his bearing before the commission produced an unfavourable impression, as he was the only prisoner who showed want of dignity, and weakness when questioned. he was also so deeply implicated himself in the burning and looting of alexandria, that it was only natural he should try to incriminate others. as regards the specific charges against arabi pasha it appeared to me-- " . that if there were any abuse of the white flag on the th july, a fact in itself not easy to prove, it was through ignorance and not through design. i may mention that white flags were flying on the aboukir forts throughout the whole of the military operations. " . that there was no evidence to connect arabi with the massacre at alexandria on the th june, and that it is doubtful whether a deliberate massacre of europeans was ever intended. that the massacres at tantah and other places after the bombardment were caused by the low-class refugees from alexandria, and that they ceased as soon as the troops were sent down. that, after the first excitement had passed, order was preserved, and that there are instances of orders having been sent by arabi to the governors of towns, &c., to preserve order and protect europeans. " . that the evidence which connects arabi pasha with the burning of alexandria is conflicting, and that there is no sufficient proof that he ordered the town to be destroyed. the portion of the town actually burned by the troops seems to have been small. the fire appears to have broken out about four p.m. on the th, and the troops evacuated the town on the same evening. it then became the duty of the civil governor to preserve order, as far as he could, until the english occupation of the th. it is difficult to say where arabi's responsibility ended and that of the civil governor commenced. it is also probable that some of the fires were lighted by the bedouins, who had assembled contrary to the wish of arabi, and had entered the town on the th, and possibly also by british shells. "it is certain, however, that the houses in the place mehemet ali were burned by suleiman sami and his regiment. suleiman sami asserted that he acted under orders from arabi. on this point he was contradicted by arabi and others, and some prisoners stated that arabi sent messengers to prevent the burning of the houses. it must be remembered that no evidence was taken for the defence, and that no witnesses were cross-examined." under these circumstances it became necessary to consider what was best to be done. on the th november lord dufferin wrote to lord granville as follows:-- "i have the honour to inform your lordship that i saw the khedive to-day, and gave his highness to understand that i thought it very unlikely that sufficient proof would be forthcoming to authorize the execution of arabi and the political prisoners, and i suggested the alternative of deportation. i was glad to find that his highness was prepared, if required, to accept this result, provided arabi and his family were removed from the country _en bloc_, and his property forfeited; in which event the egyptian government would allow a maintenance for his women and children, who, the khedive observed, ought not to be punished for another's fault." towards the latter part of november all parties interested became more or less disposed to accept a reasonable compromise, somewhat on the lines indicated in lord dufferin's letter. the english government was aware of the block caused in egyptian affairs and in the projected reforms by the trial, the proceedings of which mr. broadley spoke of extending over some months. the egyptian government, after being informed of the inconclusive character of the evidence, and being given to understand that no capital punishment would be allowed, lost all heart in the business, and only longed to get the rebels out of the country. mr. broadley, on behalf of the accused, was equally willing to accept a compromise. with a tribunal such as that before which he was to plead, he felt that his chances of success were small. he might, indeed, drag on the proceedings for an indefinite period, but in the end the solution would probably be less satisfactory to his clients than would result from a well-considered arrangement "out of court." the details of the compromise arrived at were that all charges except that of simple rebellion were to be withdrawn, and that as regards this the prisoners should plead guilty. a sentence of death was to be recorded on this plea, but a decree should be signed commuting the sentence to exile from egypt. the prisoners were to forfeit their rank and property, and to give their _parole_ to proceed to any british possession indicated, and to remain there until permitted to leave. only a very few persons in cairo were informed on the evening of rd december that arabi and his confederates were to be brought before the court-martial the following morning. the proceedings were exceedingly simple, everything having been arranged beforehand. a room had been fitted up as a court house in the old daïra sanieh, where arabi was confined, and the proceedings were public. at nine o'clock on the th, raouf pasha, the president, and the other members of the court-martial, took their seats. general sir archibald alison sat at a desk to the right of the president, and sir charles wilson on the left. arabi was on sir charles wilson's left, his counsel sitting just beneath him. he wore a dark greatcoat with a white cachemire scarf round his neck. he looked somewhat thinner than he was previous to the bombardment of the forts of alexandria. he had grown a short beard, which was partly grey. the report of the commission of inquiry to the court-martial was then handed in. the following is a translation of this document:-- "we have the honour to inform you that, having terminated the inquiry concerning arabi, the commission considers that there are grounds for sending him before the court-martial charged with the crime of rebellion as provided for by article of the ottoman military code, and article of the ottoman penal code. it therefore sends the said ahmed arabi before the court for trial charged with the said crime. we send you at the same time the complete _dossier_ containing the results of our inquiry into this affair." the president of the court asked the prisoner if he acknowledged himself guilty of rebellion against his highness the khedive in the following terms:--"arabi pasha, you are charged before this court, after due inquiry by the commission of inquiry, with the crime of rebellion against his highness the khedive. are you guilty, or are you not guilty, of the crime with which you stand charged?" mr. broadley then handed in a paper to the effect that, acting under the advice of his counsel, arabi pleaded guilty to the charge. the court then rose, the president remarking that judgment would be delivered that afternoon at three p.m. at the time named the court was densely crowded, several ladies being present, and there was a gathering of natives outside the prison. the president, first of all, handed in an official document condemning arabi to death, which was read, and of which the following is a translation:-- "considering that ahmed arabi pasha has pleaded guilty to the crime of rebellion, a crime provided for by article of the ottoman military code and article of the ottoman penal code. considering that in consequence of this plea, no other course is open to the court but to apply article of the ottoman military code and article of the ottoman penal code, already quoted, which punish with death the crime of rebellion. for these reasons, the court unanimously condemns ahmed arabi to death for the crime of rebellion against his highness the khedive, in accordance with the terms of articles of the ottoman military code and of the ottoman penal code. this sentence is to be submitted for the sanction of his highness the khedive." immediately afterwards the decree commuting the sentence to exile for life was read. arabi saluted the court and sat down, and the members of the court prepared to retire, the sitting having lasted only six minutes. at this moment, mrs. napier, wife of the junior counsel for arabi, had brought into court a bouquet of white roses for the accused, which, immediately after the reading of the decree, was presented to arabi in open court. this was a little too much for the audience, who had restrained their feelings during the reading of the decree, and loud hisses arose. after this manifestation the crowd gradually dispersed. on the th december, mahmoud sami, abdel-el-al, toulba, and ali fehmi were arraigned before the court-martial on the charge of rebellion, and on being called on to plead, they all pleaded guilty. the prisoners were again brought up in the afternoon for sentence to be passed on them. they were all sentenced to death, and immediately after the khedive's decree commuting their sentence to banishment for life was read. on the th december the same formality was gone through with regard to yacoub sami and mahmoud fehmi. a day or two later ceylon was announced as the prisoners' place of exile, and on the th december the seven principal rebels left cairo by special train at p.m. for suez, there to join the british steamship _mareotis_. they were accompanied by a guard of thirty men of the th rifles, and a suite of sixty persons, male and female. morice bey, an english officer in the egyptian service, was appointed to take charge of the exiles. the satisfaction of arabi, who had all along suspected treachery, at finding that he was to make the voyage in a british steamer, and accompanied by british soldiers, with an englishman in charge, was unbounded, and he more than once expressed his acknowledgments.[ ] it was, of course, impossible, after the lenient sentences passed on arabi and the other leaders of the national party, to attempt to inflict capital punishment on any of those who simply followed their lead. on the th december a decree was issued exiling a large number of the chief prisoners remaining for various periods to massowah, souakim, and other places. others were released either with or without bail, on their undertaking to live quietly on their country estates. the result of the trial of the rebel leaders produced, at first, a feeling of stupefaction on the european colony in egypt. when the nature of the judicial farce which had been enacted began to be understood, the sentiment above mentioned gave place to one of profound indignation against the egyptian government and its advisers. in passing upon arabi and his associates a sentence which was regarded as merely nominal, it was said a premium was put upon rebellion, massacre, and pillage. such was the view universally entertained. amongst the foreign population, england lost in one day all the popularity she had gained at tel-el-kebir. "on ne plaisante pas avec la justice," remarked an eminent foreign advocate to the writer. with the natives the worst impression was created. the idea of a compact having been made by england with arabi was strengthened and confirmed. with many the belief in arabi's divine mission was raised to a certainty. the action of england was by a great class of the population attributed to fear. it was given out that arabi was never really going to ceylon, and that if he did he would return to raise an overwhelming army and expel the unbelievers. the most moderate charged england with having bribed arabi, or, at the very least, with having held out, as a reward for his surrender, the promise of immunity for his past misdeeds. however much the result of the trial of the rebel leaders may be deplored, it was, perhaps, the best solution of the question. after a painstaking examination sir charles wilson came to the conclusion that there was no evidence forthcoming on which arabi could be convicted of complicity with the riots of june th; neither was the evidence adduced as to arabi's complicity with regard to the incendiarism of alexandria of a satisfactory nature, and it did not appear possible to connect him with the other massacres. the only evidence against arabi was of a negative character; that he could have prevented the massacres and other atrocities appears to be freely admitted by his best friends, but this was not sufficient ground for hanging him. such being the state of the case, it became necessary to consider what steps should be taken to rid the country of arabi and his accomplices. the preliminary proceedings had already occupied upwards of two months, fifty-two days alone having been spent in the examination of the witnesses for the prosecution; the defence would probably have required as much time; thus it would have been at least three months before a verdict could have been arrived at. this delay was intolerable, the current business of the ministries and administrations was seriously interfered with in consequence of the great attention being paid to these rebels. even the consideration of the alexandria indemnity question was in abeyance. it was determined that if arabi could be induced to plead guilty of rebellion, an easy way out of the difficulty could be found. as has been stated, he was accordingly arraigned on the charge of simple rebellion, and pleaded guilty. the trial, it is true, was generally looked upon as a farce, and it appeared to be so, but in the face of so many complications, it was about the only course to be adopted. chapter xxvi. the soudan and the mahdi. scarcely had the arabi revolt been suppressed, than troubles which had arisen in another quarter called for attention. towards the end of october, , abdel kader pasha, governor-general of the soudan, telegraphed from khartoum that the troops which he had sent against the mahdi had been cut off, and that a force of , men should be sent as a reinforcement, otherwise he would be unable to defend the town. he stated that, without a large force at his disposal, the insurrection would spread through all parts of the soudan, in which case the pacification of the country would require an army of at least four times the number asked for. [illustration] the soudan is a vast tract of africa, stretching from egypt on the north to the nyanza lakes on the south, and from the red sea on the east to the farthest boundary of darfur on the west. khartoum, at the junction of the blue and white niles, is about equally distant from the northern boundary of egypt (the mediterranean) and from the southern limit of the khedive's equatorial dominions, lake victoria nyanza, and uganda. from khartoum to the ports of souakim and massowah, on the red sea, the eastern limit of the soudan, the distance is about miles, and to the westward limit, which is the most indefinite of all, but is generally fixed at the western boundary of darfur, it is nearly miles. this country is as large as india. it extends , miles in one direction and , in another. there were at this time neither railways, canals, nor, except the nile at some periods of the year, navigable rivers, and the only roads were camel tracks. the sovereignty of the soudan was first seized by egypt in the year , when mehemet ali, hearing of the anarchy prevailing there, and wishing to introduce the benefits of a regular government and of civilization, and at the same time to occupy his troops, ordered his son ismail, with a large army of regulars and irregulars, to invade the country. ismail reached khartoum, and for a time governed the soudan, but he and all his followers were burnt alive by a native ruler, who first made them drunk at his own table and then burned the house over their heads. for this a terrible vengeance was taken, and egyptian sovereignty was established over sennar and kordofan. in the viceroy, said pasha, visited the soudan, and almost decided to abandon the country, but desisted in deference to the representation of the sheikhs and notables, who laid great stress upon the anarchy which would result from such an abandonment. he decreed reforms, most of which appear to have been punctually neglected. one governor-general succeeded another, their chief duties being border-warfare with abyssinia and the suppression of the rebellions which periodically broke out. in massowah and souakim were given to egypt by the sultan of turkey. in sir samuel baker set out to conquer the equatorial provinces, returning in . colonel gordon, afterwards gordon pasha, was appointed governor-general of the equatorial provinces in the following year. when, by authority of ismail pasha, gordon became absolute ruler of the soudan, he established a system of just and equitable government, which led, after his departure, to the revolt against the misgovernment of egyptian officials. gordon had warned the khedive, before his appointment, that he would render it impossible for the turks to govern the soudan again. he was as good as his word. by treating the people justly, by listening to their grievances, and mercilessly punishing all those who defied the law, he accustomed the soudanese to a higher standard of government than any which had prevailed in those regions before. after gordon's departure a horde of turks were once more let loose to harry the soudanese. all his old officials were marked men, and his policy was reversed. ilias, one of the greatest slave-owners of obeid, was allowed to return to khartoum; and this man, in concert with zubehr, the king of the slave dealers (afterwards interned at gibraltar), took advantage of the wide-spread discontent occasioned by mis-government to foment the rebellion which, under the mahdi's leadership, assumed such serious proportions. the chief causes of the rebellion were: the venality and oppression of the officials; the suppression of the slave-trade, and military weakness. of the first it is unnecessary to say much. the same kind of oppression that goes on in turkey prevailed in the soudan, though, perhaps, not to the same extent. here, as there, all over the country there was a class of small officials on salaries of from £ to £ a month, who had the responsible duty of collecting the taxes. the officials were mostly bashi-bazouks, irregular soldiers of turkish descent. as there could be but little supervision over such an immense area, these men had it much their own way and squeezed the people to their hearts' content. there were instances where a bashi-bazouk on his salary maintained twelve horses, twenty servants, and a number of women, and this in places where the payment for water for his cattle alone would have cost more than three times his salary. it was no uncommon thing for a peasant to have to pay his taxes to the collector four or five times over without the treasury being any the richer. that the suppression of the slave trade, or rather the difficulties thrown in its way, was also a potent cause is evident from the list of the tribes who followed the mahdi. many, if not the majority, of these tribes were baggara, or owners of cattle. these tribes were all of arab descent, and from time immemorial had been inveterate slave-hunters. the gallabahs were, also, to a man, against the government, slave-trading being both their principal and by far most profitable business. as to the military weakness, there can be no doubt that the arabi revolt also had its effect on the soudan population. telegrams were actually sent them by arabi, ordering them not to recognize the authority of the khedive. at the same time all the available troops were withdrawn, and the revolt followed almost as a matter of course. mahomet ahmed, the mahdi, was a native of the province of dongola. his father was abdullahi, by trade a carpenter. in this man left and went to shendy, a town on the nile south of berber. as a boy, mahomet ahmed was apprenticed to his uncle, a boatman, residing at shakabeh, an island opposite sennar. having one day received a beating from his uncle, he ran away to khartoum and joined the free school of a fakir, the head of a sect of dervishes, who lived at a village close by. this school was attached to the tomb of the patron saint of khartoum, who was greatly revered by the inhabitants of that town and district. here mahomet ahmed remained for some time, studying religion, but did not make much progress in the more worldly accomplishments of reading and writing. after a time he left and went to berber, where he joined another free school. this school was also attached to a shrine much venerated by the natives. here mahomet ahmed remained six months, completing his religious education. thence he went to a village south of kana, on the white nile, where, in , he became a disciple of another fakir, who subsequently ordained him fakir, and he then left to take up his home in the island of abba, near kana. here he began by making a subterranean excavation into which he made a practice of retiring to repeat for hours one of the many names of the deity, and accompanied this by fasting, incense-burning, and prayers. his fame and sanctity by degrees spread far and wide, and mahomet ahmed became wealthy, collected disciples, and married several wives, all of whom he was careful to select from among the daughters of the most influential baggara sheikhs and other notables. to keep within the lawful number (four) he was in the habit of divorcing the surplus and taking them on again according to his fancy. about the end of may, , he began to write to his brother fakirs, and to teach that he was the "mahdi" foretold by mahomet, and that he had a divine mission to reform islam, to establish a universal equality, a universal law, a universal religion, and a community of goods; also that all who did not believe in him would be destroyed, were they christian, mahommedan, or pagan. among others he wrote to mahomet saleh, a very learned and influential fakir of dongola, directing him to collect his dervishes, followers, and friends, and to join him at abba. this sheikh, instead of complying with his request, informed the government, declaring the man to be mad. in the beginning of ramadan, ( nd july, ), the governor-general of the soudan, reouf pasha, heard that on the island of abba, on the white nile, in the fashoda district, there was a certain religious sheikh, mahomet ahmed, who had publicly declared that he was the mahdi; further, that this sheikh had been for some time very busy in extending his influence among the tribes by means of emissaries and letters. reouf became somewhat alarmed, fearing the consequences which might result from such teaching among the credulous and superstitious people of the soudan, and sent a party of notables and learned men, with a government official and a small military escort, to interview mahomet ahmed, and request him to give up agitating and come to khartoum. mahomet declined to do either, and boldly declared that he was the mahdi, by which name he will be hereinafter referred to. on the failure of his first attempt, the pasha, on the th august, despatched by steamer an expedition of regular soldiers, with orders to use force, if necessary, in bringing the pretender to reason. at a.m. on the following day the party reached abba, where a discussion arose between two of the officers, each of whom claimed to be in command. before the difficulty could be settled, the mahdi and his followers turned out, some , strong, attacked the force and drove them back to the river, killing no less than of their number. the rest of the expedition succeeded in reaching their steamer, and returned to khartoum. after this further failure, reouf pasha organized a new expedition. the officer in command was mahomet pasha said, from the regular army. not finding the mahdi at abba, the pasha followed him leisurely on to talka. on arriving there it was discovered that the mahdi had retreated into the hills of jeb el nuba, and the pasha, deeming it useless to follow him further, withdrew to kordofan, and the enterprise was abandoned. in december, , the governor of fashoda heard that the chief of the tajalle (a district of the jeb el nuba), who was friendly to the government, had driven out the mahdi, and that the latter had taken refuge in the mountains of gheddeer. the governor decided to follow up this advantage and attack the mahdi in his new position. taking with him a force of men, the governor left fashoda on the th december. on the morning of the th he reached gheddeer after marching all night. the troops, fatigued by the march, following their usual custom, on nearing the wells broke their ranks and rushed to the water. at this moment they were attacked by the mahdists and nearly all killed, including the governor. the mahdi, seeing that he could defy the government with impunity, was encouraged to believe in his mission, and the various sects of dervishes throughout the country began to think that mahomet ahmed might really be the true mahdi. the mahdi himself, though he did not venture to leave the shelter of the gheddeer hills, occupied himself in fomenting the rebellion by his emissaries and adherents. on the th march, , abdel kader pasha was appointed governor-general of the soudan, in place of reouf pasha. during the interval between the departure of reouf and the arrival of his successor, giegler pasha, a german, acted as the latter's deputy. this official formed a new expedition of , men, starting from three points, namely, from khartoum, kordofan, and sennar. by the nd of april the entire force, nubir yussef pasha, a berberine, being in command, was concentrated at kaha, for the purpose of attacking gheddeer, where, as was above stated, the mahdi had taken refuge. in consequence of these movements, the garrisons all over the country were left very weak, and at sennar there were but soldiers remaining. amr-el-makashef, a prominent agent of the mahdi, collecting a force of disaffected natives and dervishes, attacked and burnt a part of the town, killed most of the small garrison, and besieged the remainder in the government house. fortunately, saleh aga, an irregular officer sent by giegler pasha, arrived on the th with men, and after a hard fight defeated amr-el-makashef and compelled him to raise the siege. on the th of april giegler pasha started south from khartoum by steamer with irregulars. on reaching the neighbourhood of mesalamieh, on the blue nile, he learned that a notable sheikh, called ahmed saha, was raising men for the mahdi at a village close by. he sent a detachment of fifty of his men to attack the place, with the result that the expedition was repulsed and most of the men killed. giegler then telegraphed for reinforcements of six companies of regulars from galabat, on the abyssinian frontier, and while awaiting their arrival, having received some small reinforcements, renewed his attack on ahmed saha, but was once more defeated, with a further loss of men. on the th of may, however, giegler was joined by the six companies of regulars from galabat, and no less than , of the great shukuri tribe, headed by their emir, awad-el-kerim, and a number of chiefs, clad in coats of mail and steel helmets, as in the days of the crusaders, and riding thoroughbred arab horses. this was a grateful sight for giegler, as the emir was a personal friend of his own, and had, moreover, taken sides with the government. encouraged by this accession of strength, the pasha renewed the attack on the th--this time with success--and ahmed saha was defeated with great slaughter. after the victory the troops were directed on sennar, where, on the th of may, they joined hands with the forces of saleh agha. giegler at once attacked the rebels at a village in the neighbourhood of the town, and succeeded in driving them into the river, with a loss of men. giegler then returned to khartoum in triumph, leaving saleh agha in command. on the rd june the latter, with four companies of regulars, attacked amr-el-makashef at tegu, whither he had retired after his defeat. the rebels were again defeated and dispersed, and amr-el-makashef fled across the white nile by the ford of aboo zed and joined the mahdi. shortly after these events the rebels again collected--it is said to the number of , (probably an exaggeration)--at a place called eddi binat, on the white nile. abdel kader (who had by this time taken up his command) got together a body of troops from duem, kana, and marabieh, on the white nile, and despatched them, under the command of zeyd bey, against the rebels. about october th these troops reached the neighbourhood of eddi binat, where they were attacked by sedi habbi and his men. the egyptians formed a hollow square, three sides of regulars and the fourth of aburoff arabs. the regulars repulsed the attack, but some or rebels got in on the fourth side, and the result was a defeat, with the loss of men. although successful, sedi habbi was unable to follow up his victory, owing to his heavy losses. this disaster was followed by an almost unbroken series of defeats for the egyptian forces at shaha fozia, shatt, and other places. in april, as already stated, the gheddeer field force of , men was concentrated at kaha, under nubir yussef pasha. his original intention was to march at once to attack the mahdi at gheddeer. finding, however, that the direct route was difficult and water scarce, he brought his force to fashoda on the nd of april. here they halted till the th of may, thereby allowing themselves to be overtaken by the rainy season, which much increased the difficulty of advancing through the marshy and thickly wooded country which lay between them and their destination. on the th of june the force came in contact with the enemy. the egyptian troops formed a square, which was assailed by the mahdi's followers. it was broken, and the whole force annihilated. the situation throughout the soudan was now very critical, but fortunately the mahdi, instead of following up his success and marching on obeid or khartoum, remained at gheddeer, thus giving abdel kader, who had by this time taken charge at khartoum, a chance of organizing new means of resistance. abdel kader, by drawing upon the garrisons at a distance from the scene of operations, by forming battalions of black slaves, and other like measures, managed, though with the greatest difficulty, to get together a fairly respectable force. this, as soon as it was somewhat organized, was applied in strengthening the various garrisons at the more exposed places, and in preparing for eventualities in general. for a short time the government forces had a fair share of good fortune, and in various engagements, of no great importance, came off victorious over the mahdists. this, however, did not last long. on the th of july a force sent to attack the hamar arabs, on the darfur frontier, had, although victorious, to be recalled to obeid to strengthen the garrison, news having come in that the mahdi had broken up his camp at gheddeer and was marching to attack that important town. the mahdi reached obeid on the rd of september with an enormous force, and at once summoned the garrison of about , soldiers to surrender. many of the inhabitants flocked to his standard, believing the defence to be hopeless; but the garrison resolved to hold out, and intrenched themselves in the government buildings. here they were attacked on the morning of the th, the assault lasting from a.m. to p.m. though repulsed, the attack was renewed on each of the two succeeding days, with the same result. eventually the mahdi, after having sustained heavy losses, withdrew, and devoted his energies to the blockade of both obeid and bara. the success of the government troops at obeid was, however, doomed to be followed by disasters in other directions. when obeid and bara were known to be in peril, a relief expedition of two regular battalions[ ] and some bashi-bazouks started on the th of september from duem, on the white nile, for bara. after two days' march they were attacked, but defeated the enemy with heavy loss. on the th october the expedition reached a place called kan, where there was a well, situated in the midst of a thick forest. the soldiers, after making a weak "zeriba," or breastwork of bushes, rushed, according to their custom, to the well for water. they were at once attacked, and over a thousand of them killed, the remainder escaping to bara. on the th bara was attacked, but the enemy were repulsed, and the same thing happened the following day; after which the assault was not renewed. the mahdi then, to prevent assistance being sent to obeid, despatched emissaries to cross the white nile, to stir up the embers of rebellion and secure more adherents to his cause. the foregoing brings the narrative down to the time of abdel kader's pressing demand for reinforcements. at this period the relief expedition had been all but annihilated. obeid was held by , men and bara by , . both garrisons were short of food and in a depressed condition. many of the officers and men had deserted to the enemy. the mahdi, with the bulk of his forces, had encamped round bara, and amr-el-makashef was at the same time operating on the nile. the latest reports from darfur were six months old, and the governor reported that the province was disaffected, and that he could not maintain order without the aid of additional troops. chapter xxvii. arrangements for the future. the attitude of the european powers towards the english occupation of egypt was, at the opening of the year , one of acquiescence tempered by expediency. on the rd of january, , lord granville issued a circular note to the powers on the egyptian question. in it he recalled the fact that events had compelled her majesty's government to undertake the task of repressing the egyptian rebellion, a task which england would have willingly shared with other powers. his lordship added that, although for the present a british force remained in egypt for the preservation of public tranquillity, the british government wished to withdraw its troops as soon as a system capable of protecting the authority of the khedive should be organized. in the meantime, they considered it a duty to give the khedive advice, with the object of securing that the order of things to be established should be of a satisfactory character and possess the elements of stability and progress. lord granville further declared that the danger which threatened the suez canal during arabi's revolt, its occupation by british troops in the name of the khedive, its employment as a base of operations against the rebels, as well as the attitude of the canal company at a critical moment in the campaign, constituted strong reasons for seeking an international settlement of this question in order to avoid similar dangers in the future. her majesty's government thought that free navigation on the canal, and its protection against damage and obstruction resulting from military operations, were questions of general interest. his lordship, in consequence, proposed to the powers to come to a common understanding to insure the freedom of passage through the canal for every description of vessel, under all circumstances, with this reserve in the event of war, that the ships of war belonging to one of the belligerent nations which might be in the canal while hostilities were proceeding could disembark neither troops nor warlike munitions. as regards financial arrangements, her majesty's government thought it possible to arrange for greater economy and greater simplicity in the administration by modifications which would not in any way diminish the guarantees of the creditors. his lordship hoped that he would soon be able to submit definite proposals on this subject to the powers. the government relied on the co-operation of the powers to place foreigners on the same footing as natives as regards taxation. the public papers contain no reply or acknowledgment of the communication on the part of the french government. the first of the other powers to express any opinion on the despatch was austria. sir henry elliot called on count kalnoky on the th of january to ask what impression had been made upon him by the document; and his reply was to the effect that, though he could not be expected to pronounce upon it off-hand, he would repeat assurances already given that his government continued to be animated by the most sincere wish not to embarrass her majesty's government in the reorganization of the administration of egypt. a week later the austrian foreign minister had another interview with the british ambassador, and the conversation left on sir henry elliot's mind the impression that count kalnoky would make no observations upon the circular except with reference to the proposal to subject europeans to the same taxation as natives. he admitted the justice of this proposal, and sir henry believed he would not object to it; but it was, he said, a subject that required full examination before it was decided. the suggestions of her majesty's government about the suez canal appeared quite to satisfy him. on the th, count herbert bismarck, the german _chargé d'affaires_ in london, called on lord granville, and stated that his government accepted generally the arrangement regarding egypt and the suez canal proposed in the despatch, and was prepared to await the further information promised respecting the internal reorganization of egypt. he went on to say that the german government would continue to preserve the same friendly attitude towards her majesty's government in regard to egyptian affairs which they had maintained during the summer. on the th january, count hatzfeldt informed lord ampthill that he was about to instruct count herbert bismarck to inform lord granville that the german government accepted and agreed in principle to the policy laid down in the circular of the rd respecting the reorganization of egypt. the italian government took much longer time before giving any answer. it was not till the th february that count nigra called on lord granville to state their opinion. it was to the effect that they wished to reserve any detailed expression of their views till the english proposals were communicated in a more definite shape; but he was able to say at once that they concurred generally in those proposals. the russian reply was yet later and very indefinite. sir edward thornton asked m. de giers on the th february what he had to say, and the reply was that the imperial government considered the views expressed in the circular despatch as "generally satisfactory," and "they had not for the present any objection to make to them." the minor powers were addressed in a circular dated the th january, and enclosing lord granville's despatch of the rd. the respective foreign ministers were informed that, as their governments were interested in the condition of egypt, and in the questions relating to the suez canal, her majesty's government had thought that it might be agreeable to them "to have cognizance of the communication which has been made by great britain on these subjects to the porte and the other powers represented in the recent conference at constantinople." the spanish government were somewhat effusive in their thanks. the minister for foreign affairs promised to lose no time in expressing the opinion of his colleagues, and in the meantime desired to say how much gratified was king alfonso's government at the courtesy and consideration shown towards spain. the portuguese government simply expressed their thanks. in a despatch to mr. wyndham, requesting him to lay the circular before the porte, lord granville wrote as follows:-- "having regard to the exceptional position occupied by turkey in relation to this important question, and to the special interests of his majesty the sultan which are involved in its solution, her majesty's government desire, in the first place, to address the sublime porte separately on the subject: and they conceive that they could hardly adopt a more convenient and satisfactory mode of placing their views before the sultan than by communicating to his majesty a copy of the circular which they propose to address to the powers, and which resumes all that they have to state on the subject at the present time. you will accordingly deliver a copy of this despatch and of its inclosure to the porte, and, in doing so, you will express the hope of her majesty's government that his majesty the sultan will recognize the friendly sentiments which have prompted them to submit separately to the appreciation of the porte their proposals with reference to egypt, and that these proposals will commend themselves to the favourable opinion of his majesty, as the result of the most anxious consideration on the part of her majesty's government, and as embodying a system of reorganization in egypt which, in their opinion, is best calculated to insure the stability of its institutions, the prosperity and happiness of its people, and the peace of europe in the east, and of the ottoman dominions." on the th october said pasha had proposed to lord dufferin to open negotiations with regard to egypt with a view to the maintenance of what he termed the _status quo ante_, and expressed the gratitude of the turkish government for the assurance of england's intention not to leave the english troops long in egypt. lord dufferin was instructed to say in reply that as the affairs of egypt had advanced only partially towards their final settlement, any negotiation would be premature. on the rd december musurus pasha asked lord granville for a reply as to the period of the occupation by the british troops. lord granville answered that he could not fix the exact date, but hoped to be in a short time able to make a communication to the porte on the whole egyptian question. the communication was the circular note of the rd january, . on the th january, mr. wyndham asked the turkish minister for foreign affairs if he could tell him what impression the proposals of her majesty's government with regard to egypt had made upon the ottoman government. aarifi pasha said that the different points presented had been examined by the ministers, but that they had not yet come to a final decision as to what answer they should return. one of the first results of the new position adopted by england in egypt was the abolition of the dual control. as has been already shown, the institution had rendered great services to egypt, and tended to protect the humbler classes of natives from exaction and injustice. that it should have been so successful in its mission was due to the high character and administrative ability of the gentlemen selected for the duties of controller-general. major baring[ ] found a capable successor in sir auckland colvin, and both in turn worked in the utmost harmony with their french colleague, m. de blignières, afterwards succeeded by m. brédif, who displayed the same courtesy in his relations with his english colleague. the objections to the control were summarized in a note addressed by the egyptian government to the two western powers on the th november, . but apart from any other objection to the control, there was also a fear that circumstances might occur which would render that institution a danger to the maintenance of cordial relations between england and france. its maintenance, moreover, was obviously incompatible with the exclusive predominance of england in egypt. lord dufferin, on the th december, was accordingly instructed to reply, on behalf of england, "that her majesty's government were not prepared, in opposition to the wishes of the egyptian government, and in face of the many objections which had been raised to the continuance of the control, to insist on the maintenance of an arrangement which, in its last form, was only provisionally accorded. they thought, however, that for the present it would not be wise on the part of the egyptian government to deprive themselves of all european assistance in securing the good administration of the finances, on which must depend the prosperity and credit of the country, and its power to fulfil its international engagements without undue pressure on the egyptian people. her majesty's government would recommend that, in place of the control, his highness the khedive should appoint a single european financial adviser. this officer would attend cabinet councils, exercise powers of inquiry, and give advice on financial questions, but without authority to interfere in the direct administration of the country." the despatch continued that "her majesty's government were aware of the great value which the french government had attached in the past to the dual control. they did not deny the practical advantages which for a time attended the system--advantages which were owing to the common wish of this country and of france to promote the prosperity of egypt; but they were convinced that this feeling on the part of france would not extend to thinking it possible that an arrangement of a temporary character should be continued after two of the three parties to it had become desirous to be freed from the obligation for reasons which they considered to be of grave importance." it was scarcely to be expected that france would accept the arrangement, at all events, without a struggle, and m. raindre, the french consul-general in cairo, was instructed to deny the right of the egyptian government to annul the existing arrangement. this in no way altered the programme of cherif pasha, who, assured of the support of england, proceeded with the measure; and on the th of january, , a decree was issued, stating that the dispositions of the various decrees relating to the control were repealed. the next day the decree was published in the "moniteur egyptien," and the control became a thing of the past. on the decree appearing in print, the french consul-general addressed a despatch to cherif pasha, in which the former stated that his government declined to recognize the right of the egyptian government to upset an arrangement which he maintained was part of an agreement between the french and the egyptian governments, and which, he said, formed an essential security for french interests. the despatch concluded with a formal reservation of the rights of the french government. the abolition of the control excited a burst of indignation from the french press; the action of the egyptian government was loudly condemned, and there the matter ended. m. brédif, the french controller, obtained leave of absence; and on the th february, sir auckland colvin, who, in the meantime, had resigned his post as english controller, was appointed to the post of "financial adviser," created as a substitute for the defunct control. one of the first measures which had to be considered by lord dufferin was the reorganization of the egyptian army. the rebellion and the measures taken in consequence had left egypt absolutely without any army either to defend her frontiers or to maintain order in the interior. if, as was then contemplated, the british forces were ever to be withdrawn, it was necessary to provide others to take their place. lord dufferin, in a despatch to the foreign office on the th november, , combated the oft-repeated statement that egypt required no army. according to him "this was a mistake, for although an efficient gendarmerie might be able in ordinary times to prevent the bedouins causing trouble along the desert border and the banks of the suez canal, it was essential that these unruly arab communities should know that the government held in reserve a military force capable of checking any serious attempt on their part to disturb the peace of the country; otherwise they would not hesitate to break through the necessarily sparse and feeble frontier guards in the hope of plundering cairo." lord dufferin estimated that the strength of the army ought not to exceed from , to , men. on the question of officering the new force, he observed that the officering of the native army had always been its weak point. the fellah subaltern, captain, or colonel had seldom been able to acquire the prestige or authority necessary for maintaining discipline during peace and for effective leading in the presence of the enemy. to meet the difficulty, lord dufferin approved a proposal which he found under consideration for introducing into the egyptian army a certain proportion of british officers. it was also suggested that an english general should be appointed to the chief command. both schemes were approved, a number of officers were selected from the english army to fill certain grades in the egyptian forces, and on the th december, sir evelyn wood left england to take the command with the title of "sirdar" (commander-in-chief). the reorganization of the gendarmerie and police was at the same time proceeded with. in a despatch, dated the st january, , lord dufferin said on the subject of the gendarmerie that, "in consequence of the proximity of the desert and the necessity of controlling the wild arab tribes which infest its borders, it was desirable that this arm of the service should be in a great measure a mounted force, and impressed with a semi-military character. at the same time, for economical and other reasons, it should be also trained to discharge the civil duties of a rural police. under certain aspects, therefore, it would possess the characteristics and qualifications of mounted infantry, and under others those of simple constabulary." the administration of the gendarmerie, to the number of , men, was to be placed under the minister of the interior, and its chief was to be general baker, with the title of inspector-general. lord dufferin in the same despatch dealt with the question of the reorganization of the urban police, and whilst pointing out the errors committed in the past, showed how they might be avoided in the future. lord dufferin next took in hand the question of the reform of egyptian institutions generally. on the th of february, his lordship made his report in the form of a lengthy despatch to lord granville, in which he dealt with the occupation of egypt, and the responsibilities thereby devolving on england; the establishment of a legislative council, and a chamber of notables elected by the people; the tribunals, canalization and irrigation, the cadastral survey of egypt, the indebtedness of the fellah, the assessment of the land revenue, agricultural taxes, national education and the soudan, as to which last his lordship observed that some persons were inclined to advise egypt to withdraw altogether from the soudan and her other acquisitions in that region; but she could hardly be expected to acquiesce in such a policy. possessing the lower ranges of the nile, she was naturally inclined to claim dominion along its entire course; and when it was remembered that the territories in question, if properly developed, were capable of producing inexhaustible supplies of sugar and cotton, we could not be surprised at her unwillingness to abandon them. unhappily, egyptian administration in the soudan had been almost uniformly unfortunate. the success of the present mahdi in raising the tribes and in extending his influence over great tracts of country, was a sufficient proof of the government's inability either to reconcile the inhabitants to its rule, or to maintain order. the consequences had been most disastrous. within a year and a half the egyptians lost something like , men, while it was estimated that , of their opponents had perished. his lordship stated that, in the expectation that the fresh efforts then about to be made would result in the restoration of tranquillity, a plan should be carefully considered for the future administration of the country. hitherto, it had caused a continual drain on the resources of the egyptian exchequer. the first step necessary was the construction of a railway from souakim to berber, or what, perhaps, would be still more advisable, to shendy, on the nile. the completion of this enterprise would at once change all the elements of the problem. instead of being a burden on the egyptian exchequer, these equatorial provinces ought to become, with anything like good management, a source of wealth to the government. lord dufferin then referred to the slave trade, the international tribunals, the right of egypt to make commercial conventions, and the exemption of europeans from taxation. he then gave a retrospect of reforms accomplished and made observations on the egyptian budget and the public debt. the report concluded as follows:-- "having thus given a _résumé_ of the steps already taken towards the reorganization of egypt, and of the further measures in progress or in contemplation, it remains for me to consider how far we can depend upon the continued, steady, and frictionless operation of the machinery we shall have set up. a great part of what we are about to inaugurate will be of necessity tentative and experimental. this is especially true as regards the indigenous courts of justice and the new political institutions, both of which will have to be worked by persons, the majority of whom will be without experience or instruction. had i been commissioned to place affairs in egypt on the footing of an indian subject state, the outlook would have been different. the masterful hand of a resident would have quickly bent everything to his will, and in the space of five years we should have greatly added to the material wealth and well-being of the country by the extension of its cultivated area and the consequent expansion of its revenue; by the partial, if not the total, abolition of the _corvée_ and slavery; the establishment of justice, and other beneficent reforms. but the egyptians would have justly considered these advantages as dearly purchased at the expense of their domestic independence. moreover, her majesty's government and the public opinion of england have pronounced against such an alternative. but though it be our fixed determination that the new _régime_ shall not surcharge us with the responsibility of permanently administering the country, whether directly or indirectly, it is absolutely necessary to prevent the fabric we have raised from tumbling to the ground the moment our sustaining hand is withdrawn. such a catastrophe would be the signal for the return of confusion to this country and renewed discord in europe. at the present moment we are labouring in the interests of the world at large. the desideratum of every one is an egypt peaceful, prosperous, and contented, able to pay its debts, capable of maintaining order along the canal, and offering no excuse in the troubled condition of its affairs for interference from outside. france, turkey, every european power, must be as anxious as ourselves for the attainment of these results, nor can they be jealous of the means we take to secure them. "the very fact of our having endowed the country with representative institutions is a proof of our disinterestedness. it is the last thing we should have done had we desired to retain its government in leading-strings; for however irresistible may be the control of a protecting power when brought to bear upon a feeble autocracy, its imperative character disappears in the presence of a popular assembly. the behests of 'the agent' are at once confronted by the _non possumus_ of 'the minister.' but before such a guarantee for egypt's independence can be said to exist, the administrative system of which it is the leading characteristic must have time to consolidate, in order to resist disintegrating influences from within and without, and to acquire the use and knowledge of its own capacities. if the multiform and balanced organization we have contrived is to have a chance of success it must be allowed to operate _in vacuo_. above all, the persons who have staked their future on its existence must have some guarantee that it will endure. how can we expect men born under a ruthless despotism to embark on the duties of an opposition--which is the vital spark of constitutional government--to criticise, condemn, and countervail the powers that be, if to-morrow the ark of the constitution to which they trusted is to break into fragments beneath their feet? amidst the applause of the liberal world a parliament was called into existence at constantinople; a few months later it disappeared, and its champion and fugleman is now languishing in the dungeons of taif. unless they are convinced that we intend to shield and foster the system we have established it will be in vain to expect the timid politicians of the east to identify themselves with its existence. but even this will not be enough. we must also provide that the tasks intrusted to the new political apparatus do not overtax its untried strength. the situation of the country is too critical, the problems immediately pressing on the attention of its rulers are too vital to be tampered with, even in the interests of political philosophy. various circumstances have combined to render the actual condition of the egyptian fellah extremely precarious. his relations with his european creditors are becoming dangerously strained. the agriculture of the country is rapidly deteriorating, the soil having become exhausted by overcropping and other causes. the labour of the _corvée_ is no longer equal to the cleansing of the canals. as a consequence the desert is encroaching on the cultivated land, and, unless some remedy be quickly found, the finances of the country will be compromised. "with such an accumulation of difficulties, native statesmanship, even though supplemented by the new-born institutions, will hardly be able to cope unless assisted for a time by our sympathy and guidance. under these circumstances, i would venture to submit that we can hardly consider the work of reorganization complete, or the responsibilities imposed upon us by circumstances adequately discharged, until we have seen egypt shake herself from the initial embarrassments which i have enumerated. this point of departure once attained we can bid her god-speed with a clear conscience, and may fairly claim the approbation of europe for having completed a labour which every one desired to see accomplished, though no one was willing to undertake it but ourselves. even then the stability of our handiwork will not be assured unless it is clearly understood by all concerned that no subversive influence will intervene between england and the egypt she has recreated." the projects of lord dufferin were theoretically complete, and, taken together, formed a constitution which, on paper, was nearly perfect. an army duly subordinate to the executive was to form the ultimate guarantee for order. an efficient police, carrying out the decrees of independent and unbribed tribunals, was to offer complete security for personal rights and liberty. a khedive checked by a council of ministers, which in turn was to be checked by a legislative council of twenty-six, while all three were to learn from an assembly of forty-six notables what were the real wishes of the egyptian people, was a triumph of constitutional mechanics. a financial councillor at once the servant and the monitor of the khedive, and always ready when requested to bring the light of western science to bear upon the lax ideas of oriental finance, lent to the whole structure of government a rigidity and stability which could not be too greatly admired. in short, looking at the whole ingenious apparatus, one could not but feel that nothing was wanted to make it perfect except an egyptian nation. the machine was beautifully constructed and finished, but one looked in vain for the motive power. in the egypt of lord dufferin existed only in imagination. for the most part it was a dream, and far off in the haze of a remote future. the constitution was excellent as a model, but where did the strength reside that alone could make it work? one might search through all its parts, from the khedive to the policeman, without finding a single trace of the vital force that was to work the whole. it had no organic connection with the people of egypt; it had not sprung out of their wants or their aptitudes; it did not express their history or embody their aspirations. the ministers were responsible to the khedive, and the army was to obey him. on what was the authority to rest which was to enable him to cope with intrigues in his cabinet or conspiracy among his troops? there could at that time be only one answer, viz., the presence of the british army of occupation, and this was the very institution which the project was intended to supersede. the british forces in egypt on the st of december, , had been reduced to , men. at the opening of parliament on the th february, , egyptian affairs were referred to in the queen's speech in the following terms:--"i continue to maintain relations of friendship with all the powers; order is now re-established in egypt, and the british troops will be withdrawn as promptly as may be permitted by a prudent examination of the country." the repeated declarations by the british government of their intention to withdraw the army of occupation excited the utmost alarm amongst the european inhabitants of egypt. these last, driven from their homes by the events to a great extent brought about by england's intervention in , had now, trusting to the protection of the british force, returned to the country and resumed their former avocations. upon this class the ministerial utterances produced the worst possible effect. owing to the feeling of uncertainty which in consequence prevailed, all large operations were at a standstill. no one was disposed to lay out his money in a country which might at any moment be handed back to the care of a native administration, and at alexandria miles of blackened ruins still marked the results of british interference. whether the feeling of alarm was justified or not, there is no doubt that at this time the sentiments of the natives were not friendly towards europeans. in the provinces europeans were openly insulted and threatened by the natives, and in many of the villages acts of brigandage were of frequent occurrence. the repeated ministerial declarations of an impending withdrawal from egypt not only created anxiety amongst the european population, and to a great extent paralyzed commerce and prevented the inflow of capital, but they exercised a most injurious effect upon the reforms which the british government professed such anxiety to push forward. on every side the same story was told. the natives, daily given to understand that the rule of the english was shortly coming to an end, opposed a passive obstructiveness, in those cases where they did not offer active opposition, to the intended changes. "what is the use of your making all these alterations," reasoned the egyptian official, "if they are not to last?" that they _could_ last after the departure of the english was an idea which never appeared worthy of a moment's consideration by him. this was the condition of things when, early in the month of march, a petition in english, french, italian, and greek was drawn up and addressed to lord dufferin. the document pointed out that whilst recognizing that it was by the british forces that the disturbances of had been suppressed, the state of affairs in egypt was such as to show that the permanent retention of a european force was the only means by which order could be maintained, and the security of the european population assured. the petition bore , signatures, mostly of influential persons of all nationalities. it was presented to lord dufferin by a deputation, and by him transmitted to the foreign office. from that date nothing more was heard of it, and it was probably placed in the same pigeon-hole as the memorial for protection sent by the british residents just previous to the riots of the th june. on the th april, lieutenant-general f. c. a. stephenson was appointed to the command of the army of occupation, in succession to sir archibald alison. lord dufferin left the carrying out of his scheme of egyptian reform in the able hands of sir evelyn baring, and returned to constantinople on the rd may.[ ] chapter xxviii. operations against the mahdi. the situation in the soudan at the period referred to at the close of chapter xxvi. was, it must be confessed, critical enough, and it is not surprising that, on the th november, , lord granville caused the khedive to be informed that the british government were unwilling to take any responsibility in regard to it. left to their own resources, the egyptian government had no alternative but to re-enlist about , of arabi's old officers and men for service in the south. early in november the collection of these soldiers and their concentration at the barrage, near cairo, began. most of them had to be brought in chains, and desertions were frequent. they were transported by detachments to berber, viâ souakim, their arms and ammunition being sent separately. altogether, , were collected and despatched. most of these troops were deplorably ignorant of all notions of drill, and were little more than an armed mob. their officers were no better. many of them had been engaged in the recent operations in lower egypt, which did not tend to increase their military spirit. others looked on service in the soudan as a sentence of death, and deemed that the khedive's purpose in sending them was to get rid of them. considering, also, the superstitious notions which many of them had of the power and invincibility of the mahdi, and of the valour of his savage followers, it can hardly be supposed that the new levies were such as to inspire confidence, or that to advance with such a rabble was to court anything else but defeat. the first thing to be done was to try to teach them something. they were, for this purpose, isolated from the town in a camp on the western bank of the nile. here abdel kader devoted himself personally to giving them instruction in drill, teaching them to fire and lecturing their officers. meanwhile, on the th november, the mahdi sent amr-el-makashef to attack duem, on the west bank of the white nile. after some delay, the mahdist forces arrived before the town. the garrison telegraphed for assistance, and a battalion of the newly arrived levies was sent to their relief, but, owing to a dispute amongst the native officers in command, it effected nothing, and duem was left to take its chance. after this failure, it is not surprising that abdel kader telegraphed to the egyptian government, requesting that some european officers might be placed at his disposal, and on th december, colonel stewart and two other british officers arrived at khartoum. they found that place quiet, but obeid and bara were still unrelieved, and abdel kader was standing out for seven additional battalions before he would advance to their assistance. at the end of december, news was received that bara was still holding out, though greatly in want of provisions, and that the mahdi was marching in that direction with the bulk of his forces; also, that a second mahdi had appeared on the scene, but had been promptly hung by order of the first. abdel kader, on th january, , left khartoum to take command of the troops operating between the white and blue niles. his intention was to clear the province of sennar. as the force advanced, the country was found deserted, the inhabitants having gone to join the mahdi. at abut he determined to await the arrival of another battalion before advancing further. whilst halting at this spot it became necessary to despatch the st battalion of the nd regiment of the line from khartoum to suppress troubles which had arisen amongst the hassaniyeh nomads on the white nile. the troops left in two steamers. when near the village where operations were to commence, one steamer ran aground. the other went on, landed three companies and opened fire on the rebels. at this moment a handful of the latter falling on two of the companies which had not yet formed up was the signal for a general flight of the troops to the river, with heavy loss, including the bimbashi (or major) in command, who was killed by his own men in the confusion. when the other steamer arrived a council of war was held, and it was decided to make no further attack upon the enemy, although they were only strong. on the th, another bimbashi arrived to replace the one who had been killed. he took the field at once, and ordered an advance on the village before daybreak. the other officers remonstrated, saying that, if they marched in the dark through an unknown country, they would all be killed, and on the bimbashi remaining firm, five of them went at once on the sick list. the advance was made in square formation, preceded by a guard and scouts, up to a narrow strip of forest, which lay between the egyptian force and the village. two companies were ordered into the forest to reconnoitre the road, but the officers refused to advance, saying that they and their men would certainly be killed. some of the soldiers at this time, firing off their rifles contrary to orders, gave the alarm to the rebels, who advanced through the wood, and the egyptian force fled back to their boats. the above episode gives a fair idea of the fighting capacity of the egyptian officers and men, and the truth of the matter seems at this period to have dawned upon the authorities at cairo; for on the rd of january a telegram from the khedive to hussein pasha serri, the senior military officer in charge at khartoum, ordered all operations to be suspended, and all the troops to be concentrated there, pending the arrival of english staff officers from cairo. the orders of the khedive were communicated to abdel kader, who, nevertheless, declined to obey. the reason he gave was that, by the withdrawal of the troops, the rebellion would be allowed to extend in the eastern provinces, and that if the expedition did not leave promptly for kordofan, that province, as well as darfur, would be lost to egypt. it is quite possible, also, that abdel kader, who was undoubtedly an able leader, was disinclined to allow the work to be taken out of his hands. in any case, he did not for a moment relax his efforts. on the th he defeated the rebels at maatuk, with a loss of killed and wounded; directed a successful engagement at baatuk; and on february st reached kawa, where he was joined by three battalions ordered up from shawal and karash. he then left for khartoum, after giving directions for the disposal of the force in his absence. on the th of february a messenger brought the news to khartoum that bara had surrendered to the mahdi on the th january. four days later intelligence was received of the capitulation of el obeid on january th. according to the details received from this last place, it would appear that on the th or th negotiations were opened, and a meeting of delegates on either side was appointed for the next day. on this becoming known, many of the troops at once left and joined the rebels, who made an attack in force on the following day. the bey in command ordered the soldiers to resist, but they refused and went over to the enemy; the artillery fired in the air, and the commandant, taking this as a sign of collusion with the rebels, made an unconditional surrender. the capture of these two strongholds placed the whole of kordofan in the hands of the mahdi, who also obtained possession of , prisoners, remington rifles and five guns. on the th february abdel kader rejoined his troops and proceeded towards sennar with three battalions and about bashi-bazouks. the mahdi, on his approach, advanced from sennar to meet him with a force estimated at from , to , men. these, under the command of amr-el-makashef, attacked the egyptians on the th, but after a fight lasting three hours were repulsed with a loss stated at , in killed alone. after this success, sennar was occupied without resistance, and communications were re-established between that place and khartoum. on the th february, al-ed din pasha, a turkish cavalry officer, who was sent to supersede abdel kader, arrived at khartoum, and was on the th march proclaimed governor-general of the soudan. it now becomes necessary to go back a little to the period of the appointment of the european officers applied for by abdel kader. in january, , colonel w. hicks, subsequently known as hicks pasha, was appointed by the khedive chief of the staff of the army of the soudan, with the local rank of major-general. though not named commander-in-chief till the august following, it was intended that he should direct and be responsible for all the operations, whilst nominally holding a subordinate post. hicks was a retired officer of the indian army, which he had entered in . he had taken part in the suppression of the indian mutiny, under lord clyde, and had accompanied lord napier's expedition to abyssinia, being present at the taking of magdala. in , when holding the retired rank of colonel, he went to egypt, and joined the egyptian service in the following year. though a popular and attractive officer, he is said to have had little or no experience in handling troops in the field. his appointment was made by the egyptian, without reference to the english, government. with him were associated the following british officers, all nominated in the same manner, viz.: colonels colborne and de cöetlogon, majors farquhar and martin, and captains warner, massey, and forrestier-walker. hicks and his staff left cairo on the th of february for souakim, and started thence for berber by the desert route on the th. the caravan, which consisted of camels, besides horses, and was accompanied by bashi-bazouks and over egyptian soldiers, reached berber on the st of march. here the news of the fall of bara and obeid was received. hicks proceeded to khartoum on the th of march, and the next few weeks were spent in the necessary training of his men. on april th, hicks and colborne, bringing reinforcements, joined the egyptian force encamped at kawa, to lead it against a body of about , mahdists, reported to be assembling at marabieh and abu djumal, on the white nile, south of khartoum. on the st, hicks started to reconnoitre the enemy, and on the rd the egyptian army, numbering about , men with four nordenfeldt guns, under the nominal command of suleiman pasha,[ ] marched against the enemy. on the th, hicks rejoined the camp with the intelligence that the rebels had left geb-el-ain and were moving to attack the "turks," as the egyptian force was termed, on their march from kawa. on the following day the enemy threatened an attack, but, finding the egyptians on the alert, retired. two days' more marching brought the force close to the village of marabieh. on the th, when about an hour from this place, colonel farquhar, who had been scouting in company with four bashi-bazouks, raced in to report the enemy's advance. so rapid was this that in a quarter of an hour they were seen coming on in a cloud, consisting of both cavalry and spearmen, led by their chiefs carrying gaily-coloured banners. they emerged in thousands through openings in a wood in front. fortunately hicks had his men formed in a solid square and ready to receive the attack. as usual, all baggage, camels, and camp followers were in the centre. along each face bristled a thousand rifles and at each corner were placed nordenfeldt guns and rocket tubes. "crows' feet," or little iron spikes joined four together, were thrown out so as to make the ground difficult for bare-footed men or unshod horses. as the enemy came on they spread out towards the flanks, as if with the intention of attacking the angles of the square. a couple of rockets were discharged from the egyptian force, but the missiles burst amongst hicks' own men. this was followed by the fire of the howitzers, and no sooner had the first few shells fallen amongst the advancing horsemen than they broke and moved off the field. the infantry still came on boldly, sweeping with an inward curve right and left, the extreme flanks converging towards the opposing corners of the position. file firing commenced from the front of the egyptian force, which was directly assailed. the men were formed in ranks four deep, and used their remingtons with deadly effect. nevertheless, though shot down in numbers many of the enemy continued their onward rush, and succeeded in getting close enough to the square to throw their spears into it. encouraged by the presence of their english officers, the egyptians stood their ground and poured volley after volley into the attacking force, whilst the nordenfeldts, when got to work, did much execution. after half an hour's fighting, in which amr-el-makashef, who was in command, and other chiefs were killed, the force was entirely broken up and fled in confusion. a few of the rebels continued to come up singly after the rest had retired, and brandished their spears in defiance. one after another these courageous fanatics were knocked over, and when the smoke had rolled away the ground was seen strewn with corpses, most of them within yards of the square. when victory was assured, the enthusiasm of the soldiers knew no bounds, and unaccustomed to find themselves on the winning side, they indulged in the wildest demonstrations, whilst the egyptian officers rushed to shake hands with their english comrades. the number of amr-el-makashef's forces engaged was estimated at from , to , (though they may have been less), and their losses at . the egyptian loss was merely nominal, only two men being killed and five wounded. this may be accounted for by the fact that, so far as appears, the enemy were unprovided with firearms, and that no hand-to-hand fight took place. after suleiman's men had rested sufficiently, there being no indications of the attack being renewed, the bugles sounded the advance, and the troops were again on the march. halting every night, a few days only witnessed their arrival at geb-el-ain, whence after a short stay hicks and the whole force returned to khartoum, leaving only a few men to garrison kawa and duem. hicks, as has been seen, began well, and the immediate result of his victory was that the province of sennar, the capital of which had been threatened, was entirely pacified, whilst the population of khartoum was reassured. the rebel chiefs in great numbers came in, made their submission, and returned to peaceful occupations. the reconquest of kordofan was now decided on by the egyptian government, the annihilation of the mahdi having become a matter of vital importance from the fact of his emissaries being discovered engaged in fomenting a revolt in khartoum itself. on the th of may, hicks telegraphed to cairo requesting that he might be put in undisputed command of the troops, as otherwise he could not be responsible for the proposed expedition. he was fully alive to the difficulties of the task before him. a council of war was held at khartoum on the th of june, when the measures to be adopted in the coming kordofan campaign were discussed, and it was unanimously decided to ask for reinforcements from cairo, the available force at hicks' disposal being quite inadequate for the undertaking. hicks' application was for , men, who, he begged, should be sent in time to enable him to commence operations as soon as the rainy season should be over. the egyptian government, on the th of june, decided to despatch , men as reinforcements; of these were bashi-bazouks, and , were old soldiers who had been rejected by general baker as unfit for the reorganized army. hicks was evidently at this time in doubt as to how far he was to exercise real authority over the expedition, and asked that distinct orders should be sent that all directions he might give during the campaign should be obeyed. on the rd of july hicks telegraphed his resignation in the following terms:-- "i have to-day sent to the war office my resignation of my appointment with the soudan army. i have done so with regret, but i cannot undertake another campaign under the same circumstances as the last. suleiman pasha tells me that he does not understand from the telegram of the president of the council, dated the th july, that he is bound to carry out my views with regard to the order or mode of advance or attack of the army now preparing for kordofan, unless he approves of them. in fact, he says he should be acting contrary to instructions if he carried out my views, and did not agree with them. as my views and his were so opposed in the last campaign, and would be more so in the kordofan campaign, i can only resign. within the last few days, on two important occasions my views have been disregarded." on the st of july hicks withdrew his resignation and was appointed to the chief command, suleiman being recalled and nominated governor of the red sea provinces. great efforts had to be made to supply the means of transport for the kordofan column, and al-ed din pasha himself had to go off to the country east of the blue nile for camels, at least , of which were required. early in august he returned, having succeeded in getting together some , . the mahdi seems, at this time, to have also been giving his attention to the question of transport. according to one report he had sent some dervishes to the kabbabish tribes to requisition camels. at first the tribesmen thought of refusing to obey this order, but on second thoughts they resolved to dissemble. the sheikh accordingly wrote to say, "send your men down and we will give you camels." when, however, the emissaries of the mahdi came to fetch them they were greeted in the following logical manner, "your master is a lost man. if he is the prophet he can have no need of camels. if he is not we are not bound to give him any," and in order that there might be no mistake as to their views, the kabbabishes promptly fell upon the dervishes and killed them. in the months of july and august the reinforcements from cairo began to arrive, and as they came up were concentrated with the rest of the force at omdurman, opposite khartoum where a regular camp had been formed. on the th of september, , hicks' army marched out from the camp at omdurman on its way to duem, miles distant. the force then consisted of , men (including camel-men and camp followers) with four krupp field guns, ten mountain guns, and six nordenfeldts. the undermentioned europeans accompanied the force, which hicks subsequently joined at duem:--colonel farquhar, chief of the staff; majors seckendorff, warner, massy, and evans; captains herlth and matyuga; lieutenant morris brody; surgeon-general georges bey and surgeon-major rosenberg; mr. o'donovan, correspondent of the "daily news," and mr. vizetelly, artist of the "graphic." on the march to duem no hostility was encountered. most of the natives had fled at the approach of the troops. the heat was intense, the thermometer ranging from to degrees fahrenheit in the shade. four men and camels died on the way. the expedition reached duem on the th, where it was met by al-ed din pasha. hicks on the th of september had telegraphed to cairo that he was starting for kordofan; he added that he expected to encounter great difficulties in supplying his force with water. kordofan, it may be observed, is the driest province in the soudan. the wells contained but little water except immediately after the rains, and even then they were insufficient for a large force with camels, horses, &c. his original plan was to march to bara and obeid by the northern and more direct route. by this road the distance would be about miles. posts were to have been established along the line to keep up communication with the river at duem, where a depôt was to have been formed. both bara and obeid were to have been retaken and garrisoned. the former, being thirty-five miles to the north of the latter, and situated in a fertile country, was to have been first attacked. here it was proposed the army should remain for a few days to rest and replenish its stores. on hicks joining the army at duem, these arrangements had to be entirely changed. according to al-ed din pasha, the information he had obtained led him to believe that the best supply of water would be found on the southern route by shatt, norabi, and the khor-abu-hable to rahad, some forty-five miles east of obeid. the distance by this route, however, was fully miles, being more than miles greater than by the northern road--a very grave objection. it had been all along known that on striking the khor-abu-hable, which is a torrent taking its rise in ghebel-kulfan, a mountain some fifty miles south of obeid, the army could follow its course for miles, thus making sure of an ample supply of water for that distance. but the difficulty consisted in reaching norabi, ninety miles distant from duem, and it was this consideration which had induced hicks to reject this route. now al-ed din represented that water could be found between the two places, and the question of water supply being paramount, hicks was induced to change his decision and proceed by the southern route, notwithstanding the increased distance. on the th of september an advance party of , infantry, one squadron of bashi-bazouks, two krupp and four mountain guns, seized the wells at the village of shatt, sixteen miles distant. here the first post was established. on the th, hicks telegraphed to the minister of war from shatt that the main body of the army would march forward that day, and added, "the difficulty of getting over the increased distance is nothing when the facilities for obtaining water on the march by this route are taken into consideration." on the same day the army marched forth to its fate. taking a south-westerly direction, on the th it encamped at zeraiga, a village thirty miles south-west of duem. the heat continued to be overpowering, and the camels were dying in numbers. during the march a difference of opinion arose between hicks and al-ed din, the latter, in view of the change of route, wishing to give up the proposed series of posts connecting the army with its base. hicks, on the other hand, was most unwilling, for obvious reasons, to take any such step. in a despatch, without date, in the general's writing, purporting to be written from a spot twenty-eight miles from serakna, hicks thus expresses himself:-- "the army has arrived within twenty-eight miles of serakna, which place is twenty-two miles from norabi. we have depended upon pools of rainwater for supply, which we have fortunately found. a reconnaissance made to-day insures us water as far as serakna, guides' information is vague. i regret that i have to abandon my intention of establishing military posts and line of communication with base at duem. al-ed din assures me that the arabs will close in on my route after the army has passed in sufficient force to prevent posts forwarding supplies. besides, the pools of rain-water, the only supply, will dry up. water not to be obtained by digging wells. i have no information regarding water between serakna and norabi, nor reliable information of the supply there. this causes me great anxiety." the determination to abandon the posts was not come to without a council of war being summoned; and hicks on the rd of october, on the army reaching a place near serakna, wrote a report (the last communication ever received from him) giving the opinions of the members of the council in favour of abandoning the series of posts which he had wished to establish, and the reasons which induced him, against his better judgment, to bow to their decision. after this the army appears to have arrived on the th of october at sanga hamferid, forty-five miles south-west of duem. a letter from mr. o'donovan from that position, and dated the th of october, says, "we have halted for the past three days owing to the uncertainty of the water supply in front. here we are entirely dependent on surface pools. a reconnaissance of thirty miles forward yesterday by colonel farquhar ascertained that the pools were barely sufficient for a rapid march to the village of serakna, now deserted, where there are a few wells. the enemy is still retiring and sweeping the country bare of cattle." chapter xxix. the destruction of hicks' army. then came a long period of silence, and great anxiety began to be felt. from its outset hicks' army had been beset with spies, who informed the mahdi of every movement. hicks, on the other hand, had to trust to treacherous guides, and possibly false reports. it was, moreover, no secret that there was dissension in the egyptian force, for al-ed din pasha was jealous at not having been intrusted with the chief command, and some of the egyptian officers were suspected of treachery.[ ] here, then, were all the elements of failure. [illustration: route of hicks' army.] military critics had from the first condemned the decision forced upon hicks to give up the proposed series of posts connecting the army with its base. sir samuel baker, a high authority on the soudan, as well as general stone, an american officer of experience, formerly chief of the staff, stated that the force despatched was wholly inadequate, and that they anticipated nothing but disaster. as week after week passed on without intelligence, the public anxiety increased. daily telegrams were sent by the government to khartoum, demanding news, and a steamer was despatched from there to patrol the white nile, but in vain. attempts to send messengers to communicate with the army failed. one messenger, who had been captured by the rebels, was put alive into an ant-hill, and this naturally tended to discourage others who might have been induced to make the attempt. at last three soldiers returned to khartoum from duem, and reported that hicks had been attacked by from , to , mahdists at a place three leagues from obeid, had repulsed the attack, inflicting a loss of , men on the enemy, had laid siege to obeid, and captured it on the th of november, the egyptian losses being nil. doubts were entertained as to the accuracy of this information. the absence of any loss on the egyptian side in operations of such magnitude was felt to be improbable. further, it was recognized that on the date at which hicks was stated to have entered obeid he must, according to his calculated rate of progress, have been at least a week's march from that town. the report received no sort of confirmation, official or otherwise, and was soon generally disbelieved. on the th november the french consul-general received a short telegram from his agent at khartoum, stating that, according to information from a private source, hicks' army was surrounded and in want of provisions. on the th two messengers arrived at duem with letters. according to their statements, a fight had taken place between egyptian troops and a great number of rebels at a place called kaz. during the first two days' fighting the dervishes suffered great loss. the mahdi, seeing this, advanced with his regular troops from obeid, all well armed. the fighting continued from the nd to th november, when hicks' whole army was destroyed, all being killed but about fifty men. this news was confirmed by other persons, including a copt, who, disguised as a dervish, arrived at khartoum from kordofan on the st november. he asserted that he was an eye-witness of the fight, in which, according to him, the egyptian troops, with the exception of , were totally destroyed. the later accounts received contained more details; but as these are in many respects conflicting, it is proposed to give a short summary of one or two of the different narratives, omitting only such portions as would be mere repetition. according to a camel-driver, who followed in the service of kenaui bey, the army, after leaving duem, met the rebels, with whom some skirmishes took place, and arrived at rahad without serious fighting. there was a lake at rahad, from which they got a supply of water, and then started for alouba. on this march the rebels attacked in great numbers, but were defeated. the army passed the night at alouba. the next day ( nd of november), after three hours' marching through a forest, a large force of rebels suddenly appeared, and the egyptians halted and formed square. fighting went on all that day, and after an engagement, in which there were losses on both sides, the rebels were again defeated. intrenchments were thrown up, and the night was passed on the field of battle. on the rd the march was resumed. again the rebels attacked in considerable numbers, endeavouring to surround the army, but after a serious engagement, in which both sides lost severely, they were once more defeated. the night was passed on this new field of battle. on the th the army directed its course towards kashgil. after four hours' marching, the force was surprised by the rebels, who directed against it a well-sustained fire. the soldiers were halted in square, and returned the fire. they suffered terribly from thirst; nevertheless they continued to fight all that day and during the night. on the morning of the th, the firing having ceased, the army advanced towards the wells. after half an hour's march, the dervishes, who were hidden in the woods, surrounded the troops on all sides, and opened fire. the force replied with a strong fusillade, which was well kept up till towards mid-day, when the enemy made a general charge with guns, spears, and lances, and destroyed the whole army with the exception of soldiers. on the st december a telegram from khartoum stated that for the last week there had been an arab rumour that there were dissensions between hicks and al-ed din pasha prior to the battle, and that these dissensions were known to all. hicks, according to the rumour, was weary of waiting near the water at melbeis. al-ed din pasha refused to move further, because there was no water, and half the army went over to him, and refused to obey hicks. hicks therefore pushed ahead with all his european staff, artillery, and seven or eight thousand men, was entrapped into an ambush, and fought for three days, not having a drop of water or a reserve cartridge. all his army was destroyed. the rumour added that al-ed din and his party, who stood by the water, were afterwards attacked, and that they were at the far side of obeid, fighting every day, with large losses; and that there was with them a white officer, english or german, who escaped, badly wounded, from the massacre of hicks and his army. there was also mr. vizetelly, an artist, a prisoner in el-obeid. the story of a greek merchant who escaped from obeid was that when hicks started from duem, large bodies of arabs encamped each night on the place occupied by the army the night before. hicks frequently wished to turn back and disperse these men, but al-ed din pasha assured him that they were friendly natives following in support of the army. on the sixth or seventh day hicks sent back a small body of his men. these were fired upon by the arabs, and hicks then insisted that these should be dispersed. al-ed din refused, and hicks then drew his sword and threw it on the ground, saying that he resigned, and would no longer be responsible if al-ed din did not permit his orders to be obeyed. hicks also declared that from the time he left duem al-ed din had caused his orders to be disobeyed. after some time hicks was persuaded to resume the command; but things went on as before, the body of rebels in the rear always growing larger. after some slight engagements, kashgil was reached. here an ambuscade had been formed some days before, the guide employed having been told to lead the army thither. when the arabs opened fire it was from behind rocks and trees, where they were wholly covered, and could fire with impunity. the shells and bullets of the egyptian force were harmless, so thick was the cover. hicks wheeled his army to gain the open, but found the defile blocked by al-ed din's so-called friendly natives, who had so long been following him. they also had got under shelter, and opened fire on the army. the arabs, from behind their protection, kept up the fire for three days, and in the whole affair lost only from to men. the egyptian soldiers were then lying on the ground, dying or in convulsions from thirst, and the arabs found them in groups of twenty or more, unable to rise. they were all speared where they lay. hicks' staff and escort alone had water, and were in a group on horseback. when the arabs came out of cover, hicks charged, leading his staff, and shooting down all the rebels in his way. they galloped past towards a sheikh (supposed by the egyptians to be the mahdi). hicks rushed on him with his sword, and cut his face and arm. the man had on a darfur steel mail shirt. just then a thrown club struck hicks on the head and unhorsed him; the horses of the staff were speared, but the officers fought on foot till all were killed. hicks was the last to die.[ ] the mahdi was not in the battle, but came to see hicks' body. as each sheikh passed, he pierced it with his lance (an arab custom), that he might say he assisted at his death. later still, a boy who had been with hicks' army, made a statement to the following effect:--at lake rahad hicks made a fort and mounted twenty-three guns. the troops rested there for three days. the enemy was hemming them in, and hicks determined to push on to obeid. the army advanced at daybreak. it had not marched an hour when the enemy for the first time opened fire, at long range. some camels only were wounded. the army halted for the night, intrenched itself, making a zeriba. for two days the army remained in camp. it then marched to shekan, where it again halted for two days in consequence of being surrounded by the enemy, whose fire began to kill both men and camels. leaving shekan, the force marched till noon. it then halted, as the enemy were firing from the bushes on all sides. on the third day the cavalry made a sortie, and encountering the enemy's horsemen, put them to flight, capturing several horses. this was early in the day. the square then resumed its march. shortly after, the galloping of horses was heard, and countless arabs appeared on all sides, waving their banners and brandishing their spears above the bushes. the square was halted, and, opening fire, killed a great many, whilst the egyptians at the same time lost heavily. the bushes were too thick for the krupp guns to do much execution, but the machine-guns were at work day and night. next morning arabs were seen lying six deep killed by these guns. there were nine englishmen with the force besides hicks. the egyptians lay down to hide, but hicks ordered his english officers to go round and make them stand up. at noon he sounded the assembly, to ascertain who was left alive. the force was shortly after joined by al-ed din and his division. the next morning the entire force marched together through a forest. through field-glasses an immense number of the enemy could be seen. the men insisted on continuing their march to the water instead of halting to fight. hicks, yielding to their remonstrance, continued to march in square. before noon, melbeis, where there was abundance of water, was in sight. about noon the arabs in overwhelming numbers burst upon the front face of the square. it was swept away like chaff before the wind. seeing this, the other sides of the square faced inwards, and commenced a deadly fusillade, both on the enemy and crossways on each other. terrible slaughter ensued. seeing that all hope of restoring order was gone, hicks and the few english officers who remained then spurred their horses and sprang out of the confused mass of dead and dying. the officers fired their revolvers, killing many, and clearing a space around them till all their ammunition was expended. they had then got clear outside the square, and took to their swords, fighting till they fell. hicks alone remained. he was a terror to the arabs. they said his sword never struck a man without killing him. they named him "the heavy-armed." he kept them all at bay until a cut on the wrist compelled him to drop his sword. he then fell. the struggling and slaughtering went on for hours. the black troops forming the rear of the square remained in good order when all else was confusion. they marched some distance and formed a square of their own. they were pursued, and the dervishes shouted to them to surrender. they replied, "we will not surrender. we will not eat the effendina's (khedive's) bread for nothing. we will fight till we die, but many of you shall die too!" whilst the parleying was going on, an unexpected rush was made which broke the square, and the blacks were all killed. this last account, which is the most circumstantial that has come to light, bears, it will be observed, a certain resemblance to the narrative of the camel-driver already quoted. in both, the serious fighting is made to begin at lake rahad. the advance, accompanied by frequent halts, was made through trees and bushes. the attacks made under cover were received in square formation, the men were suffering from want of water, and the final onslaught was made about mid-day. the final scene in which hicks and his staff charged their foes also agrees with the previous accounts. of the number of hicks' force which perished it is impossible to give a correct estimate. according to gordon they were so numerous that the mahdi made a pyramid with their skulls. of the number of the mahdi's forces engaged no very accurate accounts exist. the copt whose narrative has already been referred to put it at the preposterous figure of , . the soldiers who brought the news of hicks' pretended victory put the mahdi's forces at from , to , , but orientals, in the matter of numbers, are notoriously inexact. the greek merchant, whose account has been quoted, mentioned the mahdi's whole standing army as , men. gordon pasha, on the other hand, expressed the opinion that the enemy did not exceed , in number. it is certain that a considerable portion of the mahdi's forces consisted of the trained soldiers, formerly belonging to arabi's army, and who had surrendered at bara and obeid. these alone amounted to , , and were provided with remington rifles and an ample supply of ammunition. it is said that these soldiers were placed in the front rank, with the soudanese behind to prevent their running away. there is reason to believe that adolf klootz,[ ] a late sergeant of the pomeranian army, who was servant to major seckendorff, and deserted some days before the battle of kashgil, took part in the action, and commanded the mahdi's artillery. a christian lay-sister of the austrian convent at obeid, who succeeded in escaping a month later, reported that this man was then with the mahdi, and was the only european saved from hicks' army. of the mahdi's losses in the battle with hicks no record exists. the mahdi, after his victory, returned to obeid, where a great religious ceremony took place to celebrate the event. the heads of the european officers were cut off and placed on spikes over the gates of the town. of the crushing nature of the blow inflicted by the defeat of hicks' army it is scarcely necessary to say more than a few words. it destroyed the only army which egypt had ready to put in the field. it increased the prestige of the mahdi enormously, and placed all the country south of khartoum at his mercy. khartoum itself was in a situation of very great peril. its garrison numbered only some , men to defend four miles of earthworks and keep in order , natives, of whom , were avowed rebels. measures for the defence of the town and the calling in, as far as possible, of the outlying garrisons were at once taken, and reinforcements were demanded from cairo. in the meantime a panic prevailed, and all the europeans began to take flight. happily the mahdi did not follow up his success, but remained in the neighbourhood of obeid for several weeks, occupied, probably, in dividing with his followers the spoils of victory. chapter xxx. abandonment of the soudan--osman digna. on the st of october, , at the suggestion of cherif pasha, it was resolved that the british army of occupation, which now numbered , men, should be reduced to a total force of , men and six guns, to be concentrated in alexandria. speaking of the change proposed, ministers declared, at the guildhall banquet on lord mayor's day, that by the st of january, , the last british soldier would have left cairo. how far this prediction was verified will be seen later on. on the arising of trouble in the soudan the question was submitted in parliament to mr. gladstone whether or not her majesty's government regarded the soudan as forming part of egypt, and, if so, whether they would take steps to restore order in that province. mr. gladstone enigmatically replied that the soudan "has not been included in the sphere of our operations, and we are by no means disposed to admit without qualifications that it is within the sphere of our responsibility." on the th november sir evelyn baring wrote to lord granville that bad news was expected from hicks pasha, and if his force were defeated khartoum would probably fall into the hands of the rebels. the egyptian government had no funds to meet the emergency, and it was not improbable that the egyptian government would ask her majesty's government to send english or indian troops, or would themselves send part of sir evelyn wood's army to the front. on the th sir evelyn baring was informed that the british government could not lend english or indian troops, and advised the abandonment of the soudan within certain limits. this was at once communicated to cherif pasha. on the nd news reached cairo of the destruction of hicks' army. the political consequences of this disaster will be seen from what follows. on the th sir evelyn baring telegraphed that the recent success of the mahdi was a source of danger to egypt proper, and that the danger would be greatly increased if khartoum fell, which seemed not improbable. on the th lord granville replied that under existing circumstances the british force in egypt should be maintained at its then present strength, and, in view of the alarming condition of the soudan, informed sir evelyn baring that the egyptian government must take the sole responsibility of operations in that country. on the rd december sir evelyn baring expressed a hope that her majesty's government would adhere steadfastly to the policy of non-interference in the affairs of the soudan. as a natural outcome of this policy, it appeared to him that neither english nor indian troops should be employed in the soudan, and that sir e. wood's army, which was officered by english officers on the active list, should, as was originally intended by lord dufferin, be employed only in egypt proper. on the th lord granville again telegraphed that her majesty's government had no intention of employing british or indian troops in the soudan. they recommended the khedive's ministers to come to an early decision to abandon the territory south of assouan, or at least of wady halfa. on the th sir evelyn baring reported as to the immediate steps necessary if the policy of abandonment were carried out. as it was impossible to say beforehand what the effect on the population of egypt proper would be, he recommended that her majesty's government should be prepared at a short notice to send a couple of battalions from the mediterranean garrison, and that immediate steps should be taken to bring the force of the army of occupation up to its full strength. on the th sir evelyn baring informed cherif pasha that her majesty's government had no idea of sending english or indian troops to the soudan, that her majesty's government would not object to the employment of turkish troops exclusively in the soudan, with a base at souakim, if they were paid by the sultan. he added that her majesty's government recommended the abandonment of all the territory south of assouan, or at least of wady halfa, and that they were prepared to assist in maintaining order in egypt proper, and in defending it and the ports of the red sea. on the th sir evelyn baring was authorized to inform cherif pasha that her majesty's government adhered entirely to the policy which they had laid down with regard to egyptian affairs, which had been interrupted owing to the destruction of hicks' army, and they were of opinion that ineffectual efforts on the part of the egyptian government to secure their position in the soudan would only endanger its success. her majesty's government adhered to the advice given on the th inst. with regard to the course which should be pursued by egypt in view of the disaster which had occurred in the soudan. the advice given to yield up the soudan was most unpalatable to the egyptian government, and cherif pasha communicated to sir evelyn baring his objections in a _note verbale_ dated st december. in forwarding the note sir evelyn added he felt sure that under no amount of persuasion or argument would the present ministers consent to the adoption of the policy of abandonment. the only way in which it could be carried out would be for him to inform the khedive that her majesty's government insisted on the adoption of this course, and that if his present ministers would not carry out the policy, others must be named who would consent to do so. on the nd january, , cherif wrote to lord granville that the former had already pointed out the necessity imposed on the government of his highness of retaining the upper nile, and the pressing need they had of obtaining the temporary assistance of an armed force of , men, with a view to opening up the souakim-berber road. the news which reached them from baker pasha confirmed the opinion that the means at their disposal were inadequate for coping with the insurrection in the eastern soudan. under these circumstances, and taking into consideration that they could not get any help from her majesty's government as regarded the soudan, the government of his highness found themselves compelled to apply to the porte without delay for a contingent of , men to be sent to souakim. the reply was not long in coming. on the th january sir evelyn baring was informed that in important questions, where the administration and safety of egypt were at stake, it was indispensable that her majesty's government should, as long as the provisional occupation of the country by english troops continued, be assured that the advice which, after full consideration of the views of the egyptian government, they might feel it their duty to tender to the khedive, should be followed. it should be made clear to the egyptian ministers and governors of provinces that the responsibility which for the time rested on england obliged her majesty's government to insist on the adoption of the policy which they recommended, and that it would be necessary that those ministers and governors who did not follow this course should cease to hold their offices. the alteration in the tone adopted by lord granville will not fail to strike the reader. formerly it was advice, now it was command. on lord granville's despatch of the th january being communicated to cherif pasha, he at once resigned. some difficulty arose as to how he was to be replaced. riaz pasha was still sulky at not having been allowed when last in power to hang arabi, and would not accept office, but eventually nubar pasha agreed to undertake the formation of a native ministry, and declared that he accepted the policy of her majesty's government in regard to the soudan. the late nubar pasha, the new president of the council of ministers, was one of the most conspicuous characters in modern egyptian history. he came to egypt some fifty years ago, as a _protégé_ of boghos bey, the minister of mehemet ali. after accepting various minor posts under the government, nubar in became the chief of the railway administration. nubar, however, possessed talents which were destined to raise him to a position more exalted than the comparatively obscure one of head of the railways, and he speedily became ismail pasha's prime minister, and must with him share a fair proportion of praise and blame. an armenian by birth and a christian by religion, nubar possessed an intelligence far superior to that of other egyptian statesmen. that he should have found himself able, in spite of his independent ideas and somewhat dictatorial habits, to accept the formation of a cabinet at this epoch, is a proof of his far-seeing capacity and sound judgment. regarding nubar's history impartially, it is difficult to deny that while more in earnest and far-seeing in his projects than ismail, he was equally indifferent as to the means by which the money was obtained to carry them out. at the same time it is certain that the execution of nearly every good project that nominally emanated from ismail was due to nubar. he was the minister by whose agency ismail, after difficult and intricate negotiations, succeeded in obtaining the title of khedive, the change in the order of succession, and practical independence at the price, nevertheless, of a large increase in the annual tribute paid to the porte. nubar, however, has a still greater claim to fame, in having brought to a successful issue the scheme for the international tribunals, whereby the exclusive jurisdiction of the consular courts in civil cases was abolished, and natives in dispute with europeans were made subject to the new courts.[ ] during the course of the preceding events troubles were arising in the eastern soudan. early in the month of august, , considerable excitement was caused at souakim by the news that some emissaries of the mahdi had arrived near sinkat, and were raising the tribes. at the head of the movement was a man destined to play an important part in the succeeding operations. this was osman digna. osman digna was the grandson of a turkish merchant and slave-dealer, who settled in the eastern soudan in the early part of this century. osman and his brother ahmed for some time carried on a thriving business in european cutlery, cottons, ostrich feathers, and slaves, and their head-quarters were at souakim. ahmed managed the business at home, while osman, of a more restless and adventurous spirit, was the travelling partner, and journeyed far and wide, for the dignas had branches or agencies at jeddah, kassala, berber, khartoum, and other places. his visits to the soudan enabled him to become acquainted with the leaders of the anti-egyptian movement, which, though not culminating in rebellion until the years - , was recognizable at least as early as - . about the last-named period the fortunes of the house of digna began to decline. osman and his brother sustained serious losses in the capture by a british cruiser of one or two cargoes of slaves on their way to jeddah. then came the anglo-egyptian slave convention, which completed the alarm and disgust of the slave-dealers, and the commercial ruin of his house led osman to schemes of rebellion. in he went to the red sea coasts, in the vicinity of sinkat, thence inland to khartoum, and threw in his lot with the new prophet. eventually all the tribes in the eastern soudan went over to osman digna, who was named emir to the mahdi. on the th october, , egyptian troops, on their way to reinforce sinkat, were attacked in a defile by men belonging to the rebel tribes near sinkat, and, with the exception of twenty-five, were all killed. osman, leaving sinkat to be besieged by the tribesmen, who, after this success, were joining his cause day by day, moved down to tamanieb, about nineteen miles from souakim. osman then commenced operations with a view to the capture of tokar, sixteen miles from trinkitat, on the red sea coast. on the rd november mahmoud talma pasha, who had been appointed to the command of the troops in the eastern soudan, left souakim with men in two egyptian gunboats for trinkitat. the object of this expedition was the relief of tokar, which was also besieged by the rebels. the force landed on the th of november, and set out on the march at eight a.m., the cavalry in advance, and a mountain-gun in the centre. after an hour and a half's march the troops rested for twenty minutes, and when marching recommenced they were attacked by the enemy. the egyptian soldiers formed a square and commenced firing. the left side of the square was broken into by eight or ten men. this created a panic amongst the troops, many of whom threw away their rifles without firing a shot, and a general stampede ensued. the egyptian loss was eleven officers and men. amongst the killed was captain moncrieff, r.n., the british consul at souakim, who had joined the expedition. when last seen moncrieff was stabbed in the thigh by an arab, whom he afterwards shot, but the captain was at that moment struck fatally in the back by a spear. the singular part of the affair is that the attacking force only amounted to or men. this disaster created a panic at souakim, where only a thousand troops remained for the purposes of defence. so little confidence was felt in them, that arms were served out to the civil population. on the th november suleiman pasha, who had been named governor-general of the eastern soudan, left for massowah to obtain black soldiers to be employed for the relief of tokar and sinkat. on the nd december the black troops, having arrived, were sent with an expedition, comprising a total force of men and one mountain-gun, to tamanieb, between souakim and sinkat, about three hours' march from the former place. at noon, when passing through a defile, the egyptian force was surrounded and cut to pieces. on being attacked the egyptians formed a square, but after firing only ten rounds the square was broken. the black soldiers, fighting back to back, made a desperate resistance, but, being unsupported by the rest of the force, their efforts were unavailing. out of men comprising the expedition only thirty-five escaped. the rebel force was probably not less than , to , . information was now received that osman had concentrated a force , strong on the tamanieb road, that sheikh taka had surrounded sinkat with , men, and that the rebels at tokar numbered , . fears began to be entertained for the garrisons of tokar and sinkat, as they were known to be in want of provisions. in this threatening state of affairs no alternative remained but to despatch reinforcements from cairo and alexandria. the difficulty, however, was how to provide them; after much consideration the egyptian government decided to make the attempt. general valentine baker was appointed to command the expedition. amongst his officers were colonel sartorius, chief of the staff and second in command; lieutenant-colonel harrington, lieutenant-colonel hay, majors harvey, giles, and holroyd, morice bey, and dr. leslie. on the th of december colonel sartorius arrived at souakim with gendarmes. in order to protect the place some english vessels of war, under the command of rear-admiral sir w. hewett, were stationed off the town, and from time to time fired a few rounds of shell at the rebels' position. on the th the first battalion of blacks, organized by zubehr pasha, left suez to join baker. a few days later orders were given to send down the second battalion. this one was in a worse condition than the other. the officer commanding protested against going, as he said many of his men did not know how to put a cartridge in their rifles; but as baker had written on january th asking for the immediate despatch of troops, drilled or undrilled, no delay was allowed, and the second battalion left on the th. further reinforcements were brought up to swell baker's force from the berber and somali territories, by another battalion of turks from cairo, and some bashi-bazouk cavalry. baker had by this time collected a force of nearly , men, with some krupp and gatling guns and rocket tubes. part of his men were policemen in uniform, ignorant of the rudiments of military drill, many were simple fellaheen, whose unfitness as soldiers has been already referred to, and the rest were the sweepings of the streets of cairo and alexandria. the native officers were as disappointing as the men. with an army thus composed, it is not surprising if gloomy forebodings prevailed as to the result of the expedition. leaving a force to garrison souakim, baker on the st february moved the rest of his army to trinkitat. by the nd the last of the troops and transports arrived at trinkitat. on the same day a fort was constructed about three miles beyond trinkitat to protect the guns and transports whilst crossing a morass lying between the sea and the mainland. this was occupied by sartorius with blacks, the remainder returning into camp. [illustration] on the rd the whole of the troops, with the guns, marched out to the fort and bivouacked for the night. the force then consisted of , men. chapter xxxi. baker's defeat at el-teb. the morning of the th february, , was dull with heavy showers. the troops were paraded before daybreak. at . the force marched in the direction of tokar. the formation was as follows:--three infantry battalions in echelon, and marching in columns of companies; artillery and cavalry on the front and flanks, and cavalry vedettes extending all round at points a mile distant from the main body. the baggage, transported by camels, was in the rear, guarded by blacks. the country was open, but scattered here and there were patches of scrub and thorny mimosa bushes. the scrub grew thicker as the force advanced; but the ground was still sufficiently open for the operations of cavalry. after the force had marched about six miles, shots were heard from the vedettes on the left front, and small numbers of the enemy were sighted in the distance right ahead. a halt was at once called. the scouts reported that the enemy was concealed in some bushes in advance of the left front. twice a krupp gun was brought up and some shells fired amongst them, causing them to fall back. the march was then resumed. bands of arabs were next seen on the ridges, both in front and towards the right, and in the latter direction a small body of horsemen, apparently scouts, appeared in sight about a mile off. major giles was ordered to charge them with the cavalry. this he at once did; but after dispersing them, and wheeling towards the front, he suddenly came upon a large number of spearmen, who sprang up from out of the brushwood. major giles would have charged them, but his men, after their long gallop, were in too loose order; there was no time to form, and nothing remained but to fall back upon the main body. as the cavalry retired, the mounted skirmishers joined them, and the arabs followed close upon their heels. in the meanwhile, the enemy opened a musketry fire simultaneously on the front and both flanks. the force was taken by surprise, though warnings of what was coming might have been detected previously, as the vedettes on the left had for some time been drawing nearer to the main body. this, however, seems to have been overlooked. the scouts were now seen hastily retreating, and a large body of the enemy came swarming over the hills. the intention seemed to be to rush upon the army on all sides. to repel the impending attack, sartorius pasha, who was in advance with baker, was sent to form the infantry into a single large square, with the camels and baggage in the centre. two companies of the alexandria battalion at first refused to obey orders, and stood like a panic-stricken flock of sheep; but at length the infantry formed in front, on the left flank, and also on part of the right flank. on the remaining part, however, and also along the whole of what would have been the rear of the square, the companies were a noisy, confused rabble, the soldiers being mixed up with the camels and baggage in wild disorder. this was the state of things when the enemy, numbers of whom had been concealed in the brushwood, rushed on with loud yells, delivering their chief attack upon the left side of the force, and upon the left portion of the front line. the frantic efforts of the egyptians to get into proper formation, the confused din of orders, and the chaos in the rear, where camels with the whole of the transport were struggling to force their way into the interior, defy description. the square was formed eventually, but the rear side was but an irregular outbulging mass of horses, mules, camels, and men, tightly wedged together, and extending towards the centre. the confusion was increased by the cavalry skirmishers, who, when the rush came, charged panic-stricken right into the square, many of them being shot by their comrades, who by this time were firing wildly in all directions. the enemy were now rapidly encircling the entire force, which was delivering a tremendous fire mostly into the air. under cover of the smoke the rush was made. the egyptian infantry on being attacked broke almost at once, falling back into the centre of the square, and forcing the transport animals upon the rear of the soudanese black troops. these last stood well for some time, but after a while became demoralized by the rush of fellow-soldiers and camels from behind. the right of the square was not at first assailed, and here the men for some time kept up a continuous fire towards the front, with the result of killing many of their own cavalry.[ ] into the gaps made in the square the enemy now poured in hundreds, and all became panic and confusion. sartorius, who, with his staff, was inside the square, tried to rally his men. the task was a hopeless one. at the time the charge was made on the left flank of the column, baker with colonel hay and the rest of his staff were out with the cavalry in front. upon riding back they found that the enemy had already got between them and the square. they succeeded in cutting their way through, though the general and hay had narrow escapes from the spears thrown at them. on nearing the square they had to run the gauntlet of the fire of the egyptians in front, who, regardless of what was going on around, were blazing away before them. when baker reached the square the enemy had already broken it up, and it was clear that all was lost. in eight minutes from the time of the rush the whole force was in hopeless flight. the scene on all sides baffles description; of those inside the square very few escaped, they got jammed in amongst the mass of baggage-camels and had but a poor chance of firing or defending themselves. the egyptian cavalry were the first to run. they fired off their carbines into the air without taking aim at anything, and then bolted at full speed. sartorius and his staff, who with difficulty succeeded in extricating themselves from the square, were sent off by baker to endeavour to get the flying cavalry to halt and make a charge. after shooting two of his men, sartorius succeeded in effecting a momentary halt; but the instant his back was turned they were off again in full flight. the soudanese warriors displayed the most reckless bravery. one of them was seen charging alone a whole company of infantry. the egyptians offered no resistance, and the rebels with their two-edged swords and spears were slaughtering them by hundreds. what had been the square was now a seething, surging mass of men and camels. the turks and the european police, who, in spite of the rush, had managed to get together near the guns, alone made a stand, and were annihilated almost to a man. the european officers, cut off from the main body by the rush of the enemy, formed a little group apart, and were bravely defending themselves with their swords and revolvers. morice bey, after he had received a spear-thrust through the side, killed no less than three of his assailants. when last seen alive, he was standing in the left front face of the square alongside the camel conveying the £ , of which he was in charge, and reloading his revolver, whilst he waved on his men. near morice bey, and close to the guns,[ ] were surgeon leslie, captain forrestier-walker, and lieutenant carroll. when last seen dr. leslie was sabreing the arabs who swarmed over and under the wheels of the gatlings, and forrestier-walker was shooting his men as they attempted to run from the guns. all four remained at their posts until speared by the rebels. all around, the scene was simply one of savage massacre. the egyptians, paralyzed by fear, turned their backs, submitting to be killed rather than attempt to defend their lives; hundreds threw away their rifles, knelt down, raised their clasped hands, and prayed for mercy. the arabs displayed the utmost contempt for their opponents. they seized them by the neck, or speared them through the back, and then cut their throats. one was seen to pick up a rifle thrown away by a soldier and brain him with his own weapon. another rode in among a crowd of retreating egyptians, hacking and hewing about him with his long sword. an egyptian officer whom he attacked, instead of defending himself, raised his shoulders to his ears, and lay down over his horse's neck. in that position, with his hands grasping the mane, he meekly took the blows of his assailant until the latter was killed by a shot from an english officer's revolver. the yells of the savages and the cries of the victims are described as appalling. after having made his ineffectual effort to stop the cavalry, sartorius ordered lieutenant maxwell to gallop after them, already in full flight to trinkitat, and try to rally them. maxwell overtook them. he gave his instructions to the egyptian officer in command. the latter would not even try to get his men together. he refused thrice. maxwell then shot him through the head. he succeeded in rallying some forty or fifty men; but another band of fugitives coming up, swept them off as in a deluge. the road back to trinkitat became nothing but a long line of fugitives. the men not only threw away their arms and accoutrements, but even great part of their clothing, in order to get away the faster. officers were seen to shoot their own men for the sake of obtaining their horses. a large body of arabs followed the flying soldiers at a steady pace, stabbing them through the back as they overtook them. some few of the soudanese troops who had retained their rifles occasionally turned and fired as they retreated, but most of the fugitives were too overcome by terror to resist. as the pursuers neared them, they threw themselves screaming on the ground, and were speared or sabred one after another. this carnage lasted during a pursuit of upwards of five miles. the enemy pursued right up to fort baker, as the fortification on the mainland side of the lagoon was called. the garrison left to defend the work had long since taken flight. sartorius and the surviving english officers formed a cordon across the narrow neck of land. their purpose was to stop all but the wounded, but the endeavour failed. the fugitives in hundreds rushed on, many of them in a state of absolute nudity. the cavalry positively refused to obey the orders of the english, their own officers having already fled to trinkitat. they even threw away their saddles, and turned their horses loose, making the rest of their way to the beach on foot, in order that they might not be sent out to fight again. fortunately, the enemy did not follow up the pursuit beyond fort baker, otherwise scarcely any of the army would have escaped. baker was one of the last to return to the fort. finding it impossible to rally any of the men at the fort, sartorius was sent on to man the lines of trinkitat, in order to protect the embarkation. arrived at trinkitat, he succeeded to some extent in manning the lines with the few men in whose hands rifles remained. the fugitives ran pell-mell towards the boats, which, had they not already been aground, would have been sunk by the numbers who crowded into them. many of the men waded into the sea in their eagerness to get off to the transports, and it was only by firing upon them with revolvers that the officers could induce them to return to the shore, and wait for their turn to embark. the first troops ordered on board were those who possessed no arms. stores and horses were embarked during the night on board the various steamers waiting. baker and sartorius, and the other english officers, remained on shore to superintend the embarkation. although there were indications of the presence of the enemy no attempt at attack was made. the total number on the egyptian side killed in the battle was , , out of a force numbering altogether , . the following european officers were killed:-- morice bey, captains forrestier-walker and rucca, lieutenants carroll, smith, watkins, cavalieri, bertin, morisi, de marchi, and dr. leslie. four krupp guns and two gatlings were left in the hands of the enemy. as each man carried rounds of ammunition, and more were in reserve, at least half a million cartridges, as well as , remington rifles and carbines, were also lost. the enemy's losses were at first estimated at about , , but it is obvious that they must have been much under that figure, for there was little real resistance. a later estimate of would probably be nearly correct. indeed, the whole of the rebel force was reckoned by the english officers as not more than , , and baker pasha has put them as low as , . it is difficult to avoid seeing that some blame for the disaster attaches to baker. he knew, or ought to have known, the composition of the troops he commanded, and that the short training they had undergone was insufficient to render them fit to take the field. there was, indeed, the pressing necessity for relieving the garrisons of tokar and sinkat, and this is about the only thing to be said in his justification. the question whether or not baker was surprised has been much discussed. one thing is clear. if he were not surprised, his army undoubtedly was. as already mentioned, the enemy rushed in before there was time to form the square properly. it has been argued that it could not be a surprise, because the enemy were sighted more than a mile off, and fired at as well. the obvious answer is, that if they had been sighted and fired at twenty miles off, it would have made the matter no better, if after all, the rush found baker unprepared. the more abundant the warning, the heavier the blame upon those who failed to profit by it. there may possibly have been no surprise, in the sense of the enemy jumping up out of the bush when nobody dreamt of their existence. but to deny that the enemy were upon the force before the latter was prepared to receive them--that, in short, the battle was lost before the men had time to defend themselves--the most ardent admirer of the general will hardly attempt. further, military critics are of opinion that even with disciplined troops the formation of , men into a single square was a hazardous experiment. the infantry might have been drawn up in three echeloned squares. each of these would then have been capable of giving support to the others. if one square had been broken, the others might have stood firm. the turks, as their behaviour showed, might have been trusted to hold fast in a square of their own. a large proportion of the blacks would certainly have had more confidence had they been drawn up by themselves. but the mixture of turks and blacks with the cowardly egyptians was inevitably fatal. even with good troops, baker's arrangements would probably have led to failure. but with an army mainly composed of impressed slaves and the sweepings of the cairo and suez bazaars, the only result could be destruction. disastrous as the result was, it is probable that had the arab assault been delivered five miles further on the march toward trinkitat, the annihilation of the egyptian force would have been as complete as that which befell hicks pasha's ill-fated column. on the night of the th february, the transports, with baker, sartorius, and the remainder of the troops, arrived at souakim, where the news of the disaster created a panic. in order to provide against an attack by the rebels, and also to preserve order in the town, admiral hewett, on the th, landed a party of bluejackets and marines with gatling guns. with the remnant of baker's troops, nearly , men were available for the defence of the town, but the majority were completely demoralized. in every part of the town and on the road to the camp were heart-rending scenes, women and children weeping for husbands and fathers killed in the late battle. even for the purpose of holding souakim, the egyptian troops could not be relied upon, whilst the townspeople, infected with religious mania, threatened to turn on the europeans. on the th it was decided to declare souakim in a state of siege, and to give the british officers full powers, military and civil, over the town. the egyptian government were at the same time notified that in the event of souakim being attacked it would be defended by a british force. on the same day spies from sinkat brought a letter from tewfik bey to the effect that the garrison having eaten the camels, and even the cats and dogs, were subsisting on roots and the leaves of trees. the force at souakim was now employed working day and night strengthening the intrenchments and fortifications. a further force of marines and bluejackets landed from the fleet, occupying the new barracks which had been made in the centre of the lines. this post was surrounded by a trench, and made impregnable. the advanced lines, about a mile in length, were to be manned by egyptian troops in case of an attack. as a means of preventing the latter from running away, the communication between the lines to be held by them and the rest of the works was so arranged that it could be immediately cut off, in which case it was hoped that the egyptians, having no alternative, might be induced to stand their ground. on the th the charge of souakim was handed formally over by baker to admiral hewett, and the troops, numbering some , strong, were paraded. at the same time a proclamation was posted in that town announcing that the admiral had taken over the command. on the th the news reached souakim of the fall of sinkat. it appears that the rebels surrounded the place and demanded the submission of the garrison. tewfik bey, with the courage which had marked his conduct throughout, declined to lay down his arms, replying that he preferred death to submission. he then sallied forth with half-starved men, and attacked the rebels, killing a large number. he was finally overpowered, and the whole of his force annihilated. tewfik seemed to have fought bravely himself, and after expending all the cartridges of his remington carbine, defended himself with his sword. only five men escaped the general massacre, and all the women except thirty were sold as slaves. chapter xxxii. gordon's mission. we now arrive at the period when the abandonment of the soudan having been decided upon, the british government confided to general gordon the task of extricating the egyptian garrisons scattered throughout the country. in dealing with this part of the subject the space available in the present work will not admit of more than a concise summary of events. the subject has, however, been so exhaustively dealt with by other writers, that the abbreviated account given in the following pages will probably be found sufficient for the general reader. charles george gordon was born on the th january, . gazetted to the royal engineers in , he took part in all the operations in the crimea, including the first assault of the redan. in he went to china, where he shared in the advance on pekin. in the spring of he was summoned to shanghai to check the advance of the taepings, and in march, , was appointed to the command of "the ever victorious army." of gordon's exploits in the chinese service it is unnecessary to dwell at any length. the emperor bestowed on him the post of commander-in-chief, with the decoration of the yellow jacket and peacock's feather. the british government promoted him to the rank of colonel, made him a c.b., and in he returned to england. in , as already stated, colonel gordon succeeded sir samuel baker in the soudan. offered £ , a-year salary, gordon would only accept £ , . landing at souakim, he crossed the desert to berber, paid his first visit to khartoum, and pushed up the nile to gondokoro, in september. he began by conciliating the natives and by breaking up the slave-stations. he continued governor-general for a period of eighteen months, during which time he accomplished miracles. when he arrived, there was a fort at gondokoro, and one at fatiko, miles to the south, miserably garrisoned by soldiers, who dared not venture out half a mile for fear of being slaughtered by the natives. when he left he had established a chain of stations from the soudan up to the albert nyanza, and rendered the communication between them perfectly safe. he had, moreover, succeeded in restoring peace to the tribes of the nile valley, who now freely brought their produce to these stations for sale. he had checked the slave trade on the white nile, and secured a revenue to the khedive's exchequer, without having recourse to oppression. he had been the means of establishing satisfactory relations with king m'tesa, the powerful ruler of uganda, had mapped out the white nile from khartoum almost up to the victoria nyanza, and had opened water communication between gondokoro and the lakes. in october, , gordon, judging that he had done enough for the soudan, started northward, halted at cairo to request cherif pasha to inform the khedive that he intended quitting his service, and on the th december reached london. egypt, however, had not yet done with him. gordon remained only a short time in retirement before he was again called to egypt. in february, , ismail pasha made him not only governor-general of the soudan, but also of darfur and the equatorial provinces, a country , miles long and miles broad. gordon hastened to khartoum, the seat of his new government. it was time. the soudan had been drained of egyptian troops for the support of the sultan in his war with russia. darfur was in revolt, and its garrisons were beleaguered. arrived at khartoum, he at once set to work to overthrow every tradition of oriental rule. in less than a month he revolutionized the whole administration, abolished the courbash, checked bribery, arranged for a water-supply to the city, and commenced the disbandment of the turks and bashi-bazouks, who, instead of acting as a frontier guard, favoured the passage of slave-caravans. in february, , he was summoned by telegraph to the egyptian capital to lend his aid in arranging the finances of the country, which had fallen into hopeless confusion. reaching cairo on the th march, he was received with every honour, and placed at table on the khedive's right hand. he now fell into disfavour with the egyptian government. he was too much in earnest and spoke out too openly, and within a month started off in quasi-disgrace to inspect the south-eastern provinces of his government. after dismissing an old enemy, reouf pasha, from the governorship of harrar, he made his way back to khartoum by souakim and berber, and for months remained engaged in settling questions of finance and the affairs of the province. in july, , gordon received the news of the khedive ismail's deposition, and started at once for cairo. he told tewfik, the new khedive, that he did not intend to go back to the soudan, but he nevertheless accepted a mission to abyssinia to settle matters with king johannes. physically worn out by his exertions, he came to england for a time, visiting on his way thither the ex-khedive at naples. on the appointment in may, , of lord ripon to the governor-generalship of india, gordon accepted the post of private secretary to the marquis, but resigned it on the rd of june, feeling, as he expressed it, "the hopelessness of doing anything to the purpose." on the invitation of the chinese authorities he soon afterwards left india for china, between which country and russia differences had arisen, and after successfully exerting his influence in the maintenance of peace, left china the following august. in the spring of gordon went to the mauritius as commandant of the royal engineers, remaining for a year, when he was made major-general. in the following may he proceeded to the cape to aid the colonial authorities in solving the basuto difficulty. shortly after his return to england he left for palestine, where he spent a year in retirement outside jerusalem, devoting much time to proving, to the horror of pious tourists, that the commonly received "holy places" were not the right ones after all, and working out the scheme for a jordan canal. he then undertook a mission to the congo river for the king of the belgians, and only relinquished his post on the british government requiring his services in the soudan. opinions in egypt were much divided on the subject of gordon's mission and his chances of success. his courage, energy, and disinterestedness were beyond all doubt. there were, however, uncertainties, not to say eccentricities, in his character, which led many persons to question whether he was a fit person for the task to which he was called. that he had formerly an immense influence over the tribes of the soudan was unquestionable. but people remembered that years had passed away since that period, and argued that gordon, returning to the soudan with half-a-dozen followers, would not be the gordon of ismail's time, backed by his prestige and at the head of a powerful armed force. the difficulty, however, was to find any one else. it was gordon or nobody, and the critics were compelled to shake their heads and hope all would be for the best. gordon's original instructions were dated the th january, . he was to proceed at once to egypt, to report on the military situation in the soudan, and on the measures which it might be advisable to take for the security of the egyptian garrisons and for the safety of the european population in khartoum. he was to consider and report upon the best mode of effecting the evacuation of the interior of the soudan, and upon the manner in which the safety and the good administration by the egyptian government of the ports on the sea-coast could best be secured. he was also to give especial consideration to the question of the steps that might usefully be taken to counteract the stimulus which it was feared might be given to the slave trade by the insurrectionary movement and by the withdrawal of egyptian authority from the interior. he was to perform such other duties as the egyptian government might desire to intrust to him. he was to be accompanied by colonel stewart. gordon received new and more extended instructions from sir evelyn baring, at cairo, on january th. the following are their salient passages:-- "it is believed that the number of europeans at khartoum is very small, but it has been estimated by the local authorities that some , to , people will wish to go northward from khartoum only, when the egyptian garrison is withdrawn. these people are native christians, egyptian employés, their wives and children, &c. the government of his highness the khedive is earnestly solicitous that no effort should be spared to insure the retreat both of these people and of the egyptian garrison without loss of life. as regards the most opportune time, and the best method for effecting the retreat, whether of the garrison or of the civil populations, it is neither necessary nor desirable that you should receive detailed instructions. "you will bear in mind that the main end to be pursued is the evacuation of the soudan. this policy was adopted, after very full discussion, by the egyptian government, on the advice of her majesty's government. it meets with the full approval of his highness the khedive and of the present egyptian ministry. "you are of opinion that the 'restoration of the country should be made to the different petty sultans who existed at the time of mehemet ali's conquest, and whose families still exist;' and that an endeavour should be made to form a confederation of those sultans. in this view the egyptian government entirely concurs. "a credit of £ , has been opened for you at the finance department, and further sums will be supplied to you on your requisition when this sum is exhausted." gordon's final instructions were given him by the egyptian government in a firman appointing him governor-general. by this firman he was empowered to carry into execution the evacuation of the respective territories and the withdrawal of the troops, civil officials, and such of the inhabitants as wished to leave for egypt. he was, if possible, after completing the evacuation, to take steps for establishing an organized government in the different provinces. the significance of the alteration in gordon's instructions will be perceived from lord granville's remark at the close of his summary of gordon's new duties, in a despatch of march th, that "her majesty's government, bearing in mind the exigencies of the occasion, concurred in these instructions," which virtually altered general gordon's mission from one of advising and reporting to that of directing the evacuation not only of khartoum, but of the whole soudan, and also of establishing an organized government. gordon left cairo on january th, , and arrived at khartoum on the th february. he held a levée at the mudirieh, the entire population being admitted. on his way between the mudirieh and the palace about , persons pressed forward, kissing his hands and feet, and calling him "sultan," "father," and "saviour of kordofan." general gordon and colonel stewart at once opened offices in the palace, granting admittance to every one with a grievance and giving all a careful hearing. the government books, recording from time immemorial the outstanding debts of the overtaxed people, were publicly burned in front of the palace. the courbashes, whips, and implements for administering the bastinado, were all placed on the blazing pile. gordon created a native council of the local notables. then he visited the hospital and arsenal. with colonels stewart and de cöetlogon and the english consul he visited the prison, and found it to be a perfect den of misery. two hundred beings loaded with chains lay there. they were of all ages, boys and old men, some having never been tried, some having been proved innocent, but left in prison, some arrested on suspicion and detained there more than three years, others merely prisoners of war. gordon at once commenced to demolish this bastille. before it was dark scores of prisoners had had their chains struck off. in the evening the town was in a blaze of illumination, the bazaar being hung with cloth and coloured lamps and the private houses decorated. there was also a display of fireworks by the population, who indulged in rejoicings till after midnight. gordon's next act was to issue a proclamation repealing the existing laws against slavery. as a good deal of indignation has been expressed at this step, it is only fair to give his explanation. gordon in his "diary" says, "was it not announced that the soudan was going to be abandoned, and consequently that the soudanese were going to be allowed to follow their own devices (which are decidedly slave-huntingly inclined)? what possible influence could my saying that that feeble treaty of was not going to be enforced have on people who were going to be abandoned?" chapter xxxiii. souakim expedition, . the defeat of baker's force, following, as it did, the annihilation of hicks' army, created a most painful impression in england. the situation was this--two armies led by english commanders and officered in great measure by englishmen had been successively destroyed. of the garrisons of sinkat and of tokar, one was known to have been sacrificed, and the other might share its fate any day. besides this, souakim itself was seriously threatened. with regard both to hicks' and baker's expeditions the government was severely attacked both in and out of parliament. of the character of the force which baker had assembled at trinkitat, the british ministers had full information. before it started there was a consensus of opinion that it was foredoomed. the special correspondent of the "daily news" telegraphed on february st, , that "baker pasha's force is unequal to the task of the relief of sinkat, and if the troops whose chiefs have visited our camp prove faithless, sinkat will be lost." the "standard's" correspondent sent telegrams to the same effect. on february st the "st. james's gazette" said "there was a very bad chance for baker pasha;" while the "spectator" declared that "the chances against the success of the expedition were as three to one." the "times" did not think baker pasha's enterprise a too hopeful one, considering the class of men of which his force was composed, and added "that it would be a calamity if the fate of hicks' expedition were to be risked again after a warning so recent and solemn." opinion amongst military men, both in egypt and at home, was to the same effect. and yet baker, like hicks, was allowed to lead his rabble on to destruction. england, it was true, had declared that it took no responsibility as regards the despatch of hicks' army; but england at the time of both disasters was omnipotent in egypt. the country, bound hand and foot, was in the hands of the british government. under these circumstances, to permit was to do. the existence of power involved responsibility. the government of the khedive after the events of was little more than a shadow. england had only to advise, and egypt to obey. nevertheless, the egyptian government was permitted to send forth two wretchedly equipped expeditions, one to kordofan and another to souakim, both almost inevitably doomed to destruction. the matter was not rendered more pleasant by the reflection that whilst baker was sent with an impossible army to perform what, with his force, was a hopeless task, a british army capable of accomplishing with ease all that was wanted remained idle in its barracks at cairo. the shortsightedness of british policy was shown by the fact that this very force had after all to be despatched to accomplish what baker had failed in. unfortunately, however, it was destined, like many other operations recorded in this work, to be too late. public opinion had been especially moved by the news of the fall of sinkat and the massacre of its brave defenders, and it was felt that an effort should be made to save, if possible, the garrison of tokar from a similar fate. for this purpose it was decided that a british force should be sent to souakim. the force to be employed was to be chiefly drawn from the army of occupation in egypt, and general stephenson was instructed by telegraph to make the necessary preparations. he was informed that the object of the expedition was to relieve the tokar garrison if it could hold out, and, if not, to take any measures necessary for the safety of the red sea ports. he was to select the three best battalions under his command, and these, with the royal irish fusiliers (then on their way from india), the york and lancaster regiment from aden, and a battalion of marines, were to form an infantry brigade. the garrison of alexandria was to be removed to cairo while the expedition lasted, and orders were sent to the fleet to hold alexandria temporarily. the th and th hussars, the mounted infantry, and any trustworthy native horsemen at souakim, were to constitute the mounted force. the th hussars were to be mounted with native horses taken from the egyptian cavalry under sir evelyn wood. the baggage was to be on the lowest possible scale, as the troops were to be back in cairo in three weeks. tents were to accompany the force to souakim or trinkitat, as the case might be. the greatest publicity was to be given to the determination to relieve tokar by british soldiers. messages were despatched to the garrison at tokar, urging them to hold out, as relief was on the way, and the expedition was hurrying forward with all possible speed. the command of the expedition was given to major-general sir gerald graham, who had led the second brigade at tel-el-kebir. generals davis and redvers buller were to accompany him. every effort was made to send off the expedition as early as possible. the troops from egypt embarked at suez and proceeded to souakim and trinkitat. between the th and th february the th and th hussars, two batteries of royal artillery, the rd battalion of the th king's royal rifles, the nd royal highlanders (black watch), the th gordon highlanders, the th york and lancaster regiment, the th royal irish fusiliers, the th company of the royal engineers, and mounted infantry left for the scene of operations. detachments of marines from the vessels of the mediterranean squadron were also told off to accompany graham's force. the reorganized egyptian army under sir evelyn wood was anxious to take part in the expedition, but the british government had declined to sanction this, on the ground that the egyptian army was expressly raised for the defence of egypt proper, excluding the soudan. general graham left suez with his head-quarters on the th february and proceeded to souakim. meanwhile admiral hewett had communicated with osman digna and warned him that a british force was going to relieve tokar, and at the same time informed him that the english government wished to avoid useless bloodshed, and would not interfere with the tribes if they did not oppose the expedition. osman digna replied that he felt himself obliged to take tokar, and must, therefore, fight the english, and the responsibility for any bloodshed, he added, would rest with the latter. on the nd of february an egyptian soldier, who escaped from tokar, stated that the garrison was then going over to the rebels, and that the commandant was treating for capitulation on the following day. spies who arrived subsequently said that they could not approach tokar owing to the presence of rebels in the vicinity, and on the th, whilst the british forces were disembarking at trinkitat, news was received that tokar had already fallen. as to the precise manner in which this was brought about some little mystery exists, but so far as can be ascertained the circumstances attending the fall of tokar appear to have been as follows. the garrison had for some time been harassed by a continual fire kept up by the krupp guns and rifles in the hands of the rebels. the soldiers were despairing of relief, and the officers more or less disaffected. the bulk of the inhabitants were in favour of a surrender. according to some accounts, the governor for some while resisted their importunities; according to others, he was only too willing to hand over the town to the besiegers. in any case, negotiations were on the th opened with them through a merchant in tokar, who had been imprisoned by the authorities as a sympathiser with the mahdi, and who was now despatched as an emissary to the rebel camp. the surrender was fixed for the next day. the emissary returned to tokar the same evening accompanied by rebels, who were admitted to the town. one officer and a few soldiers still wanted to fight, but they were over-ruled by the others, who preferred ceding the town to mussulmans rather than to christians. during the night such soldiers as remained loyal escaped from the town, and several of them, journeying by night, made their way to souakim. the next day the town was finally surrendered. there seems to have been no valid reason for giving up tokar, there being an abundance of provisions, and , rounds of ball cartridge left. although the town had been shelled and exposed to a heavy rifle fire for five days, the total loss suffered during the bombardment was only two men killed and twelve wounded out of a garrison of men. the rebel force numbered less than , . some doubt was at first felt as to the correctness of the news of the surrender of tokar. in any case the expedition was now at trinkitat, and it was resolved not to countermand it. on the th graham was instructed that, in the event of tokar having fallen, the main object would be to protect souakim. the next day mr. gladstone stated in parliament that the cabinet saw no reason to doubt the accuracy of the report of the fall of tokar. notwithstanding this, it was decided to continue to push on with graham's expedition. the real reason for this decision is not altogether clear. probably the truth is that the british government was unwilling that the preparations which had been made should be in vain. possibly, also, it was desired that the army, being on the spot, should strike a blow at osman digna before coming away. from a despatch sent to graham on the th february it would seem that the objects to be attained by persevering with the expedition were to march on el-teb, to protect any fugitives, and to bury the english dead, after which it was to return by land to souakim. these objects it was still in general graham's power to attain. on the th, after a preliminary reconnaissance by the hussars and mounted infantry, the gordon highlanders and royal irish fusiliers moved across the lagoon and took possession of fort baker. from early morning the enemy had shown in considerable numbers in the vicinity of the fort, but as the troops advanced the former fell back. a number also showed in force on the ridge nearly two miles distant. upon the cavalry advancing, they still held their ground and opened fire at long range; but it being evident that a yet larger force was still behind the ridge, it was not considered advisable to charge. the two succeeding days were occupied in transporting a supply of water and three days' provisions for the whole army. on the th the enemy massed some two miles off, and numbering about , strong, kept up continuous firing on the english sentries and outposts. a last effort was now made to treat with the rebels. major harvey, accompanied by colonel burnaby, rode with an escort to the rising ground two miles distant. here he planted a white flag with a letter attached to the staff, enjoining the troops to disperse and to send delegates to khartoum to consult with general gordon as to the settlement of the soudan provinces. the enemy maintained continuous firing at the party, but, after it had withdrawn, took the flag and letter, but left no reply. on the afternoon of the th graham and the remainder of the force proceeded to the fort and bivouacked for the night. each man carried seventy rounds. no transport was taken. the two infantry brigades were disposed as follows:-- st brigade under general redvers buller-- nd brigade under general davis. for transport there were camels, with mules, and camels for ambulance work. there was also a camel battery of animals and men. chapter xxxiv. graham's victory at el-teb. on the morning of the th february the bugles sounded the reveillé about five, and instantly all were on the alert. the camp fires were relighted, breakfast was got ready, and although the men had been drenched by the rain which fell during the night, every one was in excellent spirits. at o'clock the order was given to advance, the men having fallen in some time previously. the force, though nominally in square, was formed in a long rectangle, having an interior space of about yards by yards. the gordon highlanders, in line, were in front; in the rear the royal highlanders (black watch); on the right the royal irish fusiliers, with four companies of the king's royal rifles; and on the left the york and lancaster regiment and the royal marines. intervals were left at the angles for the guns and gatlings, the naval brigade occupying the front and the royal artillery the rear angles. in the centre were the staffs of generals graham and buller, the officers of the royal engineers, and the medical department. the front and left of the square were covered by a squadron of the th hussars, the right by a troop of the th hussars, and the rest of the cavalry were in the rear, under the command of general stewart. the total force, including the officers and men of the naval brigade, was a little under , in number. the accompanying diagram shows the formation:-- [illustration: cavalry scouts. r. n. r. n. th. gatlings gatlings and and gardners. th. th. gardners. cavalry scouts. cavalry scouts. marines. th. nd. r. a. r. a. -pounders. -pounders. cavalry and mounted infantry.] the men marched off with their water-bottles filled and one day's rations. the only transport animals were those carrying ammunition and surgical appliances; all these were kept together in the centre of the square. the rain which had fallen caused the ground for the first two miles to be very heavy. the naval brigade and the royal artillery dragged their guns by hand, so that frequent halts had to be made to rest the men. the force kept well to the north, and when about a mile from fort baker, amidst low sand-hills thick with scrub, the enemy opened fire with their remingtons. the range, however, was too great, and no damage was done. a few hundreds of the assailants were seen on the high ground on the front and flanks. they retired very slowly before graham's force, keeping within , yards. the route taken was somewhat to the left of the site of baker's defeat, which therefore lay between the squares and the enemy's position. the infantry were thus spared the unpleasant sight which the remains of his army presented. the hussars, however, rode over the very spot. the air was polluted with the smell of the decomposed bodies, the first of which was met with about a mile from fort baker. the course taken by the fugitives from the scene of the battle was marked by a belt about three miles in length and a hundred yards in breadth. here and there a few of the runaways had straggled from the line of flight, only to leave their bones in the adjoining bush. most of the victims appeared to have fallen on their faces, as if speared or cut down by their pursuers from behind. on the spot where baker's square had been destroyed, the dead, in every attitude of painful contortion, lay piled in irregular heaps, literally two or three feet deep over an area of at least yards. the bodies were all stripped, scarcely a vestige of clothes remaining. of some only the bare skeletons were left, but for the most part the remains had not been attacked by vultures or wild animals, though all, or nearly all, had been savagely mutilated. just beyond this spot was a low mound of earth, covered with sticks, from which waved strips of calico of different colours, marking the graves of the fallen rebels. during the march, h.m.s. _sphinx_, off trinkitat, at about . , fired four rounds, but the range was far too great to be effective, and as her shells were falling more than a mile short of the enemy's position, and, moreover, coming dangerously near the cavalry, she was signalled to cease firing. the mounted infantry were now sent forward on the left to get in touch with the enemy, who appeared obstinate about moving, although not wholly inclined to fight. about o'clock reports came in from the front that the enemy were intrenched on the left. [illustration: battle of el-teb.] the defences consisted of shallow earthworks facing west by north, somewhat semi-circular in shape. these were defended on the south-west side by a battery on a mound (marked "a" on the plan), mounting two krupp guns and a brass howitzer; and on the north-east side by another battery ("g" on the plan) armed with two krupp guns, two brass howitzers, and one gatling. all these guns had been taken from baker's force, and, as was afterwards ascertained, were worked by egyptian gunners from the garrison of tokar. half-way between the two batteries was a brick building, the remains of a disused sugar factory, and also, lying on the ground, an old iron boiler. rifle-pits were scattered about on two sides of the position. these pits were constructed to hold about twenty men each, and were scooped out of the sand in such a way that an attacking force in front might get right up to them before becoming aware of their existence. in the rear of the position were the wells, some twelve in number, and the buildings forming the village of el-teb. at . graham found himself, at a distance of yards, immediately opposite the south-west battery ("a"). not caring to attack the position in front, he moved his force off to the right, on which the enemy opened fire with case and shell. fortunately their aim was bad, so that few casualties occurred, and graham, moving steadily on without returning their fire, succeeded in getting his force round on the left flank of the work, which was on the proper left rear of the enemy's line. here the square was halted, the men were directed to lie down, and four guns of the royal artillery and the machine-guns were brought into action at a range of about yards. the practice from the guns was carried on with remarkable accuracy and deliberation, and with the help of the machine-guns of the naval brigade, which poured in a stream of bullets, the two krupp guns in the battery, taken as they were slightly in reverse, were speedily silenced, and their gunners driven off. the bugles then sounded and the infantry advanced, the square moving by its left face, which by the flank movement was opposite to the work attacked. the fighting line was thus composed of the york and lancaster, supported by the marines, the gordon highlanders and royal highlanders, with bagpipes playing, moving in columns of fours on either flank, the rear of the square being formed by the king's royal rifles and the royal irish fusiliers. the york and lancaster advanced steadily, firing with their martinis as they did so, till within a short distance of the works, when, with a cheer, they and the bluejackets on the right carried them with a rush, and captured the guns. this, however, was not accomplished without the most determined resistance on the part of the enemy. the soudanese clung to their position with desperation. they were in no military order, but scattered about, taking advantage of the abundant cover which the ground afforded. they made several fierce counter-attacks, sometimes singly and sometimes in groups, on the advancing line, many hand-to-hand fights taking place. it was marvellous to see how the soudanese warriors came on, heedless and fearless of death, shouting and brandishing their weapons. to the right and left they fell, but those who survived, even when wounded, rushed on. a few, notwithstanding the rifle fire, got within five or ten paces of the square, thus proving how many bullets it takes to kill a man. when the york and lancaster made their rapid advance, they were met by a rush of several hundreds of the enemy, before which the battalion at first recoiled some thirty or forty yards (the distance they had outrun their comrades), thereby leaving a corner of the square open. the regiment fell back a little, and the marines advanced to their support; the square was quickly closed, and in a few minutes all was well again, the troops being as steady as possible. the check was but momentary, and they again advanced, firing with great precision. the ground at this place was broken and difficult. the formation of the troops consequently became irregular, and gaps were here and there left in the square. a halt for a few minutes had therefore to be called before the final rush, in order to re-form the column and also to distribute fresh ammunition. colonel burnaby was the first to mount the parapet of the battery, with some men of the black watch. he was armed with a double-barrelled shot-gun, a deadly weapon when used at close quarters. captain wilson, of the _hecla_, seeing a marine closely pressed in front of the battery, rushed to the man's assistance, and whilst surrounded by five or six of the enemy, broke his sword over one of them. the others closing round him, he tackled them with his sword-hilt, and escaped with only a sword-cut through his helmet, which wounded the scalp. no sooner was the south-west battery taken than the krupp guns in it were wheeled round and directed upon the other battery to the north-east of the position, which they soon silenced. at this period general stewart, apparently under the impression that the infantry had finished their part of the work, moved his cavalry round the present right flank of the square, and executed the charge referred to later on. but the fight was not yet over: the enemy was still in possession of the village and wells of el-teb, as well as of the north-east battery, to capture which the force had to fight its way to the left across the intrenchments from the southern to the northern extremity. by this movement the black watch entered into the front or fighting line. but, in reality, the square formation was broken up so that the whole infantry division became an irregular semi-circular line, with the black watch and york and lancaster in the central and more advanced position of it, and the royal irish fusiliers and gordon highlanders on the wings. the enemy defended their remaining position with extraordinary determination. in front were the brick sugar factory and iron boiler already described, and all round were the rifle-pits, to which they clung with desperate energy. this position the black watch, which, in general graham's despatch, were described as being at this moment "somewhat out of hand," were ordered to charge, a movement which would have caused great loss of life. the regiment, instead of at once obeying, advanced with deliberation, and irregularly forming up, poured a converging fire upon the factory. several shells were also fired into it to dislodge the enemy, but the guns were too small to effect a breach. at length the naval brigade, with the gatlings, took the building, the sailors firing their revolvers through the windows whilst the highlanders shot down the enemy as they tried to escape. the building was found full of bodies, and round the boiler no less than a hundred soudanese lay dead. during the whole time of the attack the enemy never seemed to dream of asking for quarter. when they found their retreat cut off they simply charged out, hurled their spears at the attacking force, and fell dead, riddled with bullets. about p.m. the force advanced upon and occupied the north-east battery without resistance. the last work on the right of the position was occupied by the gordon highlanders. the enemy had, by this time, given up all idea of further fighting, and as the smoke rolled away the defeated soudanese were seen streaming away in the direction of tokar and souakim, and the battle of el-teb was won. to return to the cavalry under brigadier-general stewart. his instructions were "to avoid engaging the enemy until their formation was broken, and until they were in full retreat." bearing this in mind, the question may well be asked, why did the cavalry charge at that particular stage of the action when the enemy's force was neither broken nor in retreat? as, when the artillery have produced the first effectual impression on an enemy, the infantry advance to perform their task, so the cavalry strike in to complete the confusion and ruin caused by the infantry. but in this case, not only were the enemy not half beaten, but the charge was made, according to graham's despatch, "against masses of the enemy not yet engaged." to describe the charge: after the storming of the battery "a" the cavalry was massed behind the left rear of the square, ready to act at any given point when necessary. at . p.m., as the square advanced, numbers of the enemy were visible in a plain beyond the ridge, and stewart, swinging his force round the infantry's right, gave the order to charge. the cavalry were in three lines, the th hussars, under colonel wood, forming the first; the th hussars, under lieutenant-colonel barrow, the second; and one hundred of the th, under lieutenant-colonel webster, formed the third. this formation was maintained when the cavalry began to gallop, causing the enemy to split into two large bodies right and left. after a gallop of three miles the first two lines overtook some of the soudanese. amongst them was a woman, who miraculously escaped through the first line unhurt. being perceived and spared by the second, she showed her gratitude by firing a rifle after the men who had saved her. there was now only a small party of the enemy in front, and a halt was sounded. at this moment an orderly overtook barrow, informing him that webster, with the third line, was being "cut up." that officer, after the first two lines had passed, had suddenly discovered away on his right a body of the enemy appearing out of the brushwood; a hundred, or, according to another account, two hundred, of these were mounted. they carried two-handed swords, and rode barebacked. in their rear were numbers of spearmen on foot. webster wheeled his squadron to the right, and in a moment found himself engaged with a large force of the enemy. on receipt of the orderly's report the word was instantly given "right about wheel." barrow's two squadrons then became the front line, and wood's the rear. as the two lines rode back to webster's assistance they found themselves confronted by some hundreds of soudanese, mounted and on foot. some thirty horsemen rode with full force boldly against the first line of the advancing squadron. three of them came straight through safely, and, undismayed either by the shock they had survived, or the equal peril of the second line sweeping down upon them, wheeled their horses with wonderful rapidity, not hesitating to follow in full pursuit the squadrons from which they had so narrowly escaped. very little harm, however, resulted from this attack. the real opposition came from the spearmen, who lay scattered among the hillocks and mounds of sand, and who, rising at the precise moment, attempted to hamstring the horses of the cavalry, or else drove home their heavy spears, throwing them whenever they were unable to reach their foe by hand. the spears were like zulu assegais in form, except that, being weighted with a roll of iron at the extreme end of the shaft, they had a greater momentum and piercing power. the soudanese also threw boomerang-like clubs of mimosa wood at the horses' legs, thus bringing many of the animals to their knees. barrow, whilst leading the charge, was struck by a thrown spear which pierced his arm and side. he, nevertheless, rode on until his horse was brought down in the manner above described.[ ] the first line, missing its commander, and not fully realizing the position, swept straight on, whereas barrow would no doubt have wheeled it to the right. stewart, who was riding somewhat in advance of the left flank of the second line, noting at once the flaw, drove spurs into his horse, and with his staff galloped hard to bring round the erring squadrons. it was a race between this small band, the general and staff, and a number of the enemy rushing from the right. the former won, and caught up the first line; but in this conflict, during the sweep of the th hussars, as they followed, wheeling with admirable precision to the left, the chief casualties of the day occurred. lieutenant probyn, of the th bengal cavalry, attached to the th hussars, was among the first to fall. of the general's four orderlies one was killed and two were wounded. major slade fell dead, pierced with spear-wounds, and his horse hamstrung to the bone.[ ] another officer killed at the same time was lieutenant freeman. after the th and th had charged again and again through the scattered groups of spearmen, doing but little execution on account of the unsteadiness of the egyptian horses,[ ] each line dismounted one of its squadrons, and poured volley after volley into the enemy; after which the hussars rode back to el-teb, having lost heavily, in fact, one man for every eight engaged. the loss in killed on the british side was officers and men; in wounded, officers and soldiers and marines. the officers killed were lieutenant freeman, th hussars; major slade, th hussars; lieutenant probyn, bengal cavalry; and quartermaster wilkins, king's royal rifles. the magnitude of the loss sustained in the cavalry charge will be apparent when it is considered that out of a total of thirty killed no less than thirteen, or nearly half, belonged to the small force under general stewart. it is singular that, with the exception of the loss sustained by the cavalry, all the casualties during the fight were caused by the enemy's bullets. of the enemy's force several estimates were made. it is obvious that their total number was much under the figure of , originally reported by general graham. another authority puts the numbers who fought at the intrenchments and wells at , . in addition to these was the force held in reserve, and attacked by the cavalry. these were probably , or , more. it is stated in some of the accounts that , were slain and , put _hors de combat_. unfortunately it is impossible to arrive at strict accuracy in such matters, but it is a fact that bodies were counted on the field of battle. in any case the defeat was a conspicuous one, more especially considering the comparatively small loss sustained by graham's force. the chief lesson taught by the engagement is the tremendous power of the breechloader in steady hands. against such weapons, carried by british soldiers, all the courage of the soudanese was of no avail. with the exception of one moment, when the hurried advance of the front line threatened to imperil the square, the enemy never succeeded in getting near enough to be a source of serious danger; and but for the cavalry attack, the utility of which, as already remarked, is open to considerable doubt, the victory would have been won with almost a total immunity from loss. of the tribes who fought against graham one is said to have been totally exterminated. their reckless courage in action was the theme of general admiration. both during and after the fight their principal aim seemed to be to sell their lives as dearly as possible. lads of twelve, after fighting desperately, fell dead into the shelter-trenches, with their teeth set and their hands grasping their spears. it was almost impossible to save the wounded or to take prisoners, as the dying, even in their last moments, strove to thrust or cut with knife, spear, or sword. the troops as they pressed forward had to shoot or bayonet all they came near, for the wounded would start up and strive to kill or maim their foes, a grim pleasure lighting up their faces whenever they could bury their weapons in a soldier's body. a marine roving about among the enemy's dead, behind the boiler more than once referred to, was killed by a wounded soudanese hidden among the slain. the arab with a knife fairly disembowelled the english soldier, and was himself bayoneted on the spot almost immediately afterwards. some time after the battle, and when the troops were searching about the enemy's works, a boy of about twelve years of age, unobserved among a heap of dead and dying, started up and rushed with a drawn knife on two soldiers, who, taken aback at first, ran some yards, and then turned and shot him. at some distance outside the lines a soudanese sprang like a cat upon the back of one of the soldiers and tried to cut his throat; an officer, rushing up, shot the savage through the heart with his revolver, barely in time to save the soldier's life. the coolness of the british soldier seems never to have deserted him, and gave rise to some scenes which might almost be described as humorous. when the rush was made and the bulk of the assailants either killed or driven back, one soudanese warrior, spear in hand, dashed singly forward. with a "hop, skip, and a jump," he cleared the front rank of the square, only, however, to be adroitly caught on the point of the bayonet of a soldier behind. "how's that, sir?" said the soldier, turning to his officer. "well caught," said the latter, involuntarily reminded of the game of cricket. after the fighting was over, and in a comparatively quiet corner near the wells, one of the soudanese suddenly went for a black sergeant belonging to the egyptian army. the latter, unprepared for the onslaught, sought refuge behind his camel. here he was pursued by his enemy, who tried every means to get at the sergeant. the latter was chased round and under his animal several times, to the amusement of a group of highlanders, who looked on unwilling to spoil the sport. on went the chase, the two dodging round the sheltering camel, and it was uncertain who was to win when the soudanese, with his long knife, proceeded to stab the camel. this attempt to secure an unfair advantage was too much for the highlanders, two of whom took aim at the soudanese. their rifles went off at the same moment, and the man fell. it was impossible to say which shot proved fatal, and a lively discussion ensued as to "whose bird" the soudanese was to be considered. when the square was being assailed, a soudanese, after being hit by a rifle-bullet, suddenly swerved towards one of the guns. a gunner saw him coming, snatched a rammer, and knocked him down with a blow on his head. before he could rise the soudanese was bayoneted. a trooper of the hussars, named hayes, after his squadron had passed ahead of him, attacked a spearman, who parried his sword-thrusts with one of the hippopotamus-hide shields carried by most of the enemy. the trooper tried in vain to cut the man down, but his horse was too restive to render this practicable. hayes then coolly dismounted, and after parrying a spear-thrust, killed his opponent with a sword-cut. admiral hewett, who had accompanied the force, as well as baker pasha, who was wounded by a piece of shell, returned to trinkitat late in the afternoon with a small escort of cavalry. graham, with the army, bivouacked at the wells that night, and started the next morning for tokar, leaving behind of the nd to guard the wounded and the supplies which had been brought up. on the mounted infantry and a squadron of the th hussars nearing tokar they were fired on from some huts in the town and had to retire to the main column, which was some way behind; on its coming up colonel clery, the chief of graham's staff, rode forward towards the town, when he discovered that the rebels had all fled; a soldier bearing a white flag came out, and it was found that the egyptian garrison had, as had been reported, capitulated previously, but their lives had been spared, and some of them even bore arms. on the english troops coming up the townspeople professed to be overcome by delight and came out dancing and shouting, and kissed the soldiers' feet. the same day a party of the nd regiment was sent out to bury the europeans who fell in baker's defeat. all the bodies being stripped of every particle of clothes, it was most difficult to identify them; but twenty-five were distinguished, and of these the following could be identified with certainty, viz., morice bey, dr. leslie, captain forrestier-walker, lieutenants watkins, carroll, smith, and morisi. of the egyptians who fell, only abdul rassak bey, chief of the staff, could be recognized. morice bey and dr. leslie were both lying side by side inside the left front of the square with their faces towards the front. walker and watkins were also close together in the opposite corner. the troops bivouacked in the plain in front of tokar, supplies being brought forward from fort baker. on the nd march the cavalry rode out to the encampment of the enemy at a place called dubba, about three miles distant: here was found inside a zeriba a pile of , remingtons, boxes of ammunition, one -pounder gun, and one gatling. outside was a hut, in which was stored the loot taken at baker's defeat, a miscellaneous assortment, gun-cases, portmanteaus, writing-cases, surgical instruments, &c. a party of hussars broke up the whole of the rifles, and the other things of value were loaded on mules. the day following the arrival of the troops many of the inhabitants who had fled when the rebels were fighting at el-teb, or had gone off in company with them, returned with their families and property. a wounded egyptian artilleryman said that he and seven others had been dragged with ropes from tokar to el-teb to work the guns. all the others were killed, and he, on trying to escape, was shot in the back by the soudanese, but managed to crawl to tokar during the night. he stated that a great number of the enemy escaped from the fight in a wounded condition. according to this man and others, the rebel leaders alleged that they were deceived by osman digna, who told them it was untrue that the english were coming, and assured them that they would only have to meet and defeat another egyptian army. the troops then returned to trinkitat, accompanied by of the survivors from tokar, and commenced to re-embark for souakim on march th. chapter xxxv. graham's victory at tamaai. by the th of march the change of base from trinkitat to souakim had been completed. on the same day the black watch marched out and occupied a zeriba constructed by baker some weeks before, and distant about eight miles on the road from souakim to sinkat. according to the account given by a correspondent, before they moved off the ground graham addressed them on parade. to the amazement of every one who heard him, he said that, although he claimed to have the reputation of the black watch as much at heart as any of them, he could not say that he was altogether pleased with their performance the other day at el-teb. he was understood to refer to the fact that the regiment had not broken into the double when amongst the enemy's rifle-pits, and to the rate at which they had fired away their ammunition. but to show that he had not lost confidence in them, he went on to say he was going to place the black watch in front throughout the coming operations. with that unfortunate speech rankling in the minds of both officers and men, the general sent the regiment on its way. not only was the speech ill-advised, but, as every one knew except graham himself, it was unjust. its effect was apparent later on. owing to the absence of a breeze and the intense heat, the men were unable to proceed except at the slowest rate and with frequent halts. even then there were hundreds of stragglers from the ranks. the officers did all in their power to keep the men together, but it was nearly p.m. before they were all got to the zeriba. five men suffered attacks of sunstroke, and many others were temporarily disabled by heat and exhaustion. camels and mules conveying water and stores kept arriving from souakim during the th and th, by the end of which time a large quantity of water, ammunition, and provisions had been collected at the zeriba. at p.m. on the th the artillery and infantry advanced to the zeriba, which they reached at midnight. there was a bright moon, and the night air was soft and pleasant, so that the march did not distress the men, although it was hard work for the naval brigade. the strength of the force was as follows:-- royal artillery, men. st infantry brigade, under general buller: royal engineers, men; rd battalion king's own rifles, men; gordon highlanders ( th), men; royal irish fusiliers ( th), men. nd infantry brigade, under general davis: royal highlanders ( nd black watch), men[ ]; york and lancaster ( th), men; royal marine artillery and light infantry, men. at daybreak on the th the cavalry, comprised of men of the th hussars, men of the th hussars, and of the mounted infantry, arrived at the zeriba, where the total force now amounted to , men. about a.m. it was reported that the enemy was in force some six miles distant. accordingly, the troops were ordered to advance towards tamaai as soon as the men had had their dinners. about p.m. the force began to move. the following diagram explains the formation:-- [illustration: nd brigade--general davis. half nd. half th. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - half - - - naval | -pr. - - - half nd. - - - guns. | battery. - - - th. - - - - - - | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | marines. cavalry. st brigade--general buller. - - - - - - - - half th. half th. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - half - - - & -pr. - - - half th. - - - camel battery. - - - th. - - - - - - | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | th.] the st brigade, under buller, marched on the right rear of the other, at a distance varying from to yards in an oblique line. in military language the two brigades moved in echelon, the nd brigade leading, the object being to expose the enemy, in the event of his charging one brigade, to a raking or flank fire from the other. the rear battalions and the half-battalions on either flank of each brigade marched at wheeling distances, so that on the word to form outwards being given, two complete squares could be formed. the two brigades were thus placed so as to form two independent oblongs, the front face or line of each brigade being about yards in length, the sides about yards. the main body of the cavalry was echeloned on the left rear of the nd brigade. it will be seen that, although the force at tamaai was about the same as that at el-teb, a different formation was adopted. the unwieldiness of a single great square had been shown by experience. it had the further disadvantage that, in the event of an attack on one side, the fire of at least two of the other sides could not be utilized. there was, moreover, the old adage against "putting all one's eggs in one basket." the comparatively difficult ground which had to be got over at tamaai was probably another reason for the change. the line of march was about south-west. the mounted infantry having reported that the low hills, six miles in front, were clear of the enemy, it was deemed advisable to gain and occupy them before dark, and, if possible, attack the enemy and drive them from their position near the wells. the afternoon was hot, and frequent halts were necessary. the ground was covered with grass knee-deep, scrub and brushwood, and in some places the prickly mimosa and cactus were seven feet high. by . the highest hill of the range was reached by the cavalry scouts, and the broad intervening valley of tamaai could be seen from its summit through the haze. about four o'clock the infantry squares reached the base of the hill and halted for a few minutes, whilst the scouts were pushed forwards. at five o'clock they came in and reported that the enemy, estimated at , men, were advancing to the attack. the force was at once formed up in a defensive position on a favourable piece of ground, having a clear space of yards to the front, and, as there was now barely an hour of daylight left, the engineers and pioneers were set to work to form a zeriba round the camp by cutting down the mimosa bushes which grew plentifully about. before this the enemy had fired a few rifle shots and had shown in some numbers on a ridge about , yards distant. by way of checking this, and to show the power of the guns, two of the -pounders and a gardner gun fired a few rounds, and the enemy disappeared. the operations of the day thus closed, the cavalry were sent back to baker's zeriba to water their horses, and, tired with their day's exertion, the infantry lay down within the irregularly-shaped square formed by the mimosa bushes. the men lay two deep and slept with their great-coats on and their arms beside them. orders were given that all lights should be extinguished at nine. about a quarter to one on the morning of the th there was an alarm, and the enemy opened a distant dropping fire, which continued throughout the night, causing few casualties, but disturbing the men's rest. one man of the york and lancaster was killed, and five, including an officer, were wounded, as well as some camel drivers and horses. at sunrise a -pounder and the gardner gun were run out and made some excellent practice at a range of , yards, dispersing the enemy, who retired to their main position near the wells of tamaai. about a.m. stewart arrived with his cavalry, and at . ordered out the mounted infantry to feel the enemy. at o'clock the whole force moved out from their bivouac. a native who accompanied the troops, and who had lately been a prisoner in osman digna's camp, informed general graham that the bulk of the enemy's force would be in a deep khor, or watercourse, the sides of which would serve as an intrenchment. graham therefore directed the advance to be made to the left of this position, where the ground rose a little, intending (as he stated in his despatch) to sweep the ravine with artillery fire before attacking. the advance was made by the two brigades in squares marching in echelon. owing to some slight delay in getting the st brigade forward, the nd (which general graham and his staff now joined) was somewhat further in advance than was intended when they first came in contact with the enemy. the route lay towards the south-south-east, across a sloping plateau intersected by dry watercourses, towards a deep ravine, full of boulders and huge detached rocks.[ ] the morning was bright and clear, with a brilliant sun, but there was no wind, as at el-teb, to carry off the smoke. this, as will be seen, became important. [illustration: battle of tamaai.] as the brigades advanced the black forms of the soudanese were seen ranged along the hills on the front and right of the british force. two squadrons of cavalry, together with some abyssinian scouts, were sent forward to skirmish and endeavour to clear the bushes through which the infantry had to advance. the skirmishers had not gone far before they became hotly engaged. captain humphreys, in command, sent back word that the ravine was occupied in force. although this was only a few hundred yards in front, it was so hidden by bushes as to be invisible to the infantry. about twenty minutes after starting, the nd brigade was halted to re-form itself from the somewhat loose order into which it had fallen in its advance over the rough ground. at half-past eight it was moving slowly towards the ravine, which extended itself irregularly all along the front, and was from to , yards off. the st brigade, yards distant to the right and rear, was timing its movements and taking its ground step by step with the nd brigade. some , or , soudanese were now visible, the greater part being on the south, or more distant, side of the ravine, here about to yards wide. some hundreds of them were also among the bushes to the right as well as in the immediate front. they opened fire on the nd brigade, but the greater part of the bullets flew harmlessly overhead. the skirmishers were withdrawn, and as soon as they were out of the line of fire, the brigade replied, the men firing independently as they advanced. when the square got within yards of the ravine, a series of broken and irregular rushes was made by the soudanese on the front; but the fire of the martinis prevented any of the enemy getting at this time within twenty yards of the british line. the front became soon comparatively clear of foes, and then (about a.m.) graham[ ] gave the order, "forty-second, charge!" and the black watch, forming the left half face of the square, remembering the general's speech of two days before, cheered, and, regardless of consequences, broke away at the double. the th half battalion, on the right face of the square, had no order given to them, but seeing the highlanders dash ahead, they too rushed on. the front rank of the square charged up to within thirty yards from the edge of the ravine, then slackened speed, and, though still advancing, recommenced firing. the order was given to "cease firing," but the men, seeing armed natives spring up in every direction right and left, were not to be controlled, and continued to blaze away. the enemy were now swarming on the ridges on the opposite side of the ravine, and the gatling and gardner guns, which had been run out a few yards in front of the right corner of the square, were turned upon them. many were observed running down the slopes, and disappearing among the rocks in the little valley intervening. in the absence of any wind, the smoke from the guns hung around the column in thick folds, totally obscuring the view. under cover of this smoke, hundreds of the soudanese crept up the near side of the ravine, and threw themselves upon the right front and right flank of the square, which fell back in disorder. the th, unable to resist the onslaught, were thrown back in confusion upon the marines in the rear, numbers being knocked off their legs in the rush. their colonel (byam) and four of his officers were thrown down. soldiers and savages alike went trampling over them. as the colonel lay, he was assailed by four spearmen, but with his revolver he shot one at each touch of the trigger. the colonel rose up, and whilst the main body of his regiment was breaking up, rallied some thirty of his men, who, standing back to back, repelled with bayonet-thrusts the assaults of the soudanese who encircled them. fifteen of the men of the th fell where they stood. as the th on the right face and corner were borne back from the edge of the ravine, the right wing of the nd became exposed, and the enemy, rushing in at the gap, were among the highlanders on their flank and rear, cutting and spearing in every direction. the nd then recoiled several paces, the movement, according to one correspondent, "resembling the slow swing of a door on its hinges." the condition of the column was something like this:-- [illustration] an officer appropriately compared the appearance of his part of the yielding line to the scramble in a game of football. the men were so huddled together that many of them were unable either to fire their rifles or use their bayonets. captain scott stevenson, of the nd, was suddenly seized by the legs by some soudanese, who were crawling on the ground. one of them dragged at the frogs of his kilt, and then at his "sporran." the captain, who was one of the best boxers in the army, literally kicked himself clear, and his claymore being too long a weapon to use at such close quarters, he laid about him with its hilt and with his fists. the marines in rear of the brigade were wheeled up to support the th and close the gaps left in the formation, but it was too late, and they too were thrown into confusion, and borne away on the line of retreat. graham and his staff tried their best to check the movement and rally the men. as the marines were being swept away, major colwell shouted in stentorian tones, "men of the portsmouth division, rally," which they did, of them closing together in a compact body, forming a little square. the highlanders also formed one or two such groups, and materially assisted in bringing about the general rally which soon followed. in spite of every effort, however, the whole force fell back about yards, in a direction to the eastward of that taken in the advance. the naval brigade, which had been sent to the front with the machine-guns, during the rush lost three of their officers, lieutenants montresor, almack, and houston stewart, and many of their men. the guns had to be abandoned, partly owing to the hurried retreat, and partly because of the nature of the ground. before retiring, the naval brigade found time to lock the guns, so as to prevent the enemy, who immediately captured them, from making any use of the weapons in the short interval which elapsed before they were retaken. instances of individual heroism were not wanting at this trying moment. one highlander, seeing three or four mounted sheikhs, who were hounding on their men, rushed out at the leader of them and bayoneted him on his horse. whilst the black watch were retiring, hard pressed, a private rushed at one of the enemy who was slashing right and left, and ran him through with his bayonet, so violently that he had to drag the wounded man with him for some distance before the soldier could extract the weapon. every soldier who stumbled or fell during the retreat was at once done for, the enemy darting forward in squads and thrusting their spears into him as long as a sign of life remained. the nature of the struggle may be gathered from the fact that of twenty men who formed a section of a company of the black watch when charging up to the ravine, only three escaped alive, and they were badly wounded. as has been related above, the formation of isolated groups among the retreating soldiers assisted to bring about the rally which took place in about twenty minutes. but a more powerful aid, and one without which davis's square might have shared the fate of baker's force at el-teb, was at hand. the st brigade, under buller, had been attacked at the same time as the nd brigade, and from its position at some to yards distance from the ravine, it had the advantage of a wider fire radius. the men were formed in square, the th on the right, and the th on the left being the leading regiments with the th in the rear and the and -pounder guns in the centre. whilst the narrowness of the space between the slope and the nd brigade enabled the enemy to "rush" the square before the infantry had time to fire more than a round or two, the distance between the slope and buller's troops rendered it impossible for the enemy to reach them in face of a well-directed fire. not one of the soudanese who ran nearer than eighty yards to buller's square lived to tell the tale. there was no hurry, no flurry in the handling of this brigade. the men formed up, shoulder to shoulder, in leisurely order when they saw the enemy coming on. their deliberate volleys sounded like the harsh grating sound of the sea on a shingly beach, and when the smoke drifted slowly away the plain reappeared black with the bodies of the dead and dying. not content with attacking buller's square in the front and on the flanks, the enemy even passed round to the rear, so that, at one time, all four sides were engaged. so well, however, was the brigade handled, and so steady were the men, that this made no difference. buller was able, not only to hold his own ground, but also to assist the nd brigade. as this fell back, it got to the left of buller's square, and the general, seeing that something was wrong, moved up a short distance, and began pouring in a heavy cross fire upon the soudanese who were assailing the other brigade. at the same time stewart, moving his cavalry round to the left flank of buller's square, dismounted his men, and fired a volley into the enemy's right flank. the soudanese were thus between two fires. now, covered by the fire of the st brigade and by the cavalry, davis's square rallied. the retreating troops were halted and re-formed, this time in line with the marines on the right, the th in the centre, and the nd, with of the naval brigade in their rear, on the left. after a quarter of an hour's halt, a fresh supply of ammunition having been served out to each man, the nd brigade went once more to the attack. the soldiers were forbidden to fire until the enemy should come well within range, and on this occasion they obeyed orders more faithfully, marching slowly and clearing the ground of the enemy as they advanced. thanks to the position taken by the st brigade, which had now moved up yards closer to the ravine and halted, buller was able to pour a raking fire into the enemy, and so prevent any attempt to again "rush" davis's flank. the position was thus:-- [illustration] in ten minutes the lost ground was regained and the guns recaptured. they were immediately hauled into position, and fired a few rounds at the enemy, who began to move off to the opposite slopes of the ravine, within twenty paces of which davis's force halted at a.m. it was now the turn of the st brigade, which, still in square formation, was sent off to take a second intervening ridge some yards off. forward down and across the ravine went the brigade. with a cheer the men took the first ridge, firing as they went along occasional shots at the enemy's main body, who could be seen gathered on the second ridge beyond. the soudanese, disheartened, kept up a feeble fire, retreating as the brigade advanced. the defence of the second ridge was insignificant, and it was carried without difficulty. from the top tamaai could be seen in the valley feet below, with the tents and huts of osman digna's camp. by . a.m. these were in the possession of the british forces. osman digna was not present at the battle, preferring to watch the action from the top of a neighbouring hill. his cousin, mohammed mousa, commanded the enemy's forces, and was shot at the commencement of the engagement. squads of men were told off to search for the wounded, a task of some danger, on account of the number of partially disabled soudanese lying in the bush. here, as at el-teb, wounded arabs refused to accept quarter, but waited an opportunity to spring out and attack any of the soldiers who came sufficiently close. an eye-witness wrote as follows:-- "one wounded savage lay half reclining on a sloping bank near the spot where the gatling gun had been rolled into the ravine. he was badly wounded in the leg, a bullet having shattered his knee. grasping his heavy broad-bladed spear, he looked defiance and mischief at the soldiers as they approached. a bluejacket was the first to venture near him, and although jack had his rifle and cutlass attached, he liked not the far-reaching spear. the troops were forbidden to fire, and there was nothing for it but to tackle the man with steel. the deft handling of the spear, wounded as the foe was, made jack cautious. i looked and watched. a soldier now stole up on the opposite side of the hadendowa, but even then the savage, like a wounded stag at bay, was not to be trifled with. a mean subterfuge, cunning stratagem, or what you will you may call it, prevailed. a stone thrown at the arab's head stunned him for the moment, and before he recovered the bluejacket had plunged his cutlass into him, bending the weapon into such a hoop shape that he could barely withdraw it." the british losses were as follows:--killed: lieut. montresor, _euryalus_; lieut. almack, _briton_; lieut. houston stewart, _dryad_; capt. h. g. w. ford, york and lancaster; major aitken, royal highlanders; and non-commissioned officers and privates. wounded: seven officers and non-commissioned officers and privates. missing: nineteen men. of the above, three officers and eleven men were killed at the taking of the guns, and the loss of the nd brigade at the time of the square being broken was in killed alone. the number of the enemy was originally reported by graham as being from , to , , and the loss as over , in killed. according to one account, over , lay dead in an area of yards; of these were counted on the spot where the square was broken. another account puts the total number of the enemy's forces engaged at , , and the loss in killed and wounded , . no prisoners were taken. of the nature of the surprise intended for him at the ravine, graham had ample warning beforehand. nevertheless he moved his men almost up to the brink of the spot where the enemy lay in ambush, and very nearly brought about a disaster. as to the order given to a part of the front rank to charge, it is unnecessary to say anything in its condemnation. the charge was made at nothing. the front rank of the square doubled, whilst the sides and rear only followed at quick time. it was, as a critic remarked, taking the lid off the box. of the conduct of the soldiers of the nd brigade it is impossible to speak too highly. it was in consequence of a sheer military blunder that the front of the square got separated from the rest, and that the men were driven back by the surging mass of soudanese; but it was proof of the highest discipline and coolness that under these circumstances the men, compelled to retire, kept their faces steadily toward the enemy, and were able to re-form without panic or confusion. the feeling of the troops, or at all events of the nd brigade, after the battle, was that they had been victorious, in spite of the mismanagement of their superiors. the men of the black watch were especially sore at what had occurred. their idea was that they had been needlessly exposed. they had a grievance ever since the beginning of the campaign. at el-teb they had been expected to charge rifle-pits in which hundreds of the enemy were concealed. as this movement would have caused great loss, the advance was made deliberately. for this the regiment had, as has already been mentioned, been severely taken to task. to enable them to retrieve their supposed loss of reputation, the black watch were placed in the position of honour and danger at tamaai, and when the order to double against the enemy, thus, as it turned out, breaking the square, was given, they obeyed promptly, though, as they said, "we knew the order was foolish, but we were put on our mettle." "it was of no use," they argued, "to form a square if it was to rush at the enemy in fragments." before returning to souakim on the th of march, parties of engineers were told off to complete the destruction of osman digna's camp at tamaai. this extended over a level plain two miles in length, surrounded by naked rocks. the camp, as well as the huts and stores, were soon in a blaze in scores of different places, the flames shooting up to a great height, and volumes of smoke obscuring the view between the camp and the distant hills. one feature of the scene was the explosion of the magazines, containing about , rifle cartridges, captured from baker at el-teb, besides a large quantity of krupp and machine-gun ammunition. the british forces being once more concentrated at souakim, admiral hewett issued a proclamation offering , dollars for the head of osman digna. whether this step was in accordance with the rules of civilized warfare or not may well be doubted. at all events, it created a strong feeling of indignation in england, and in three days the admiral, acting under instructions from home, withdrew the objectionable document. on the th the th hussars, the mounted infantry, and the gordon highlanders made a march to the wells of handouk, a few miles from souakim. they found them all deserted, and no signs of the enemy. a zeriba was formed at the base of a detached hill held by a company of the highlanders. news was brought to the camp that osman digna's force was increasing, and that he had announced his intention of renewing the fighting. he was reported to have , men with him. on the th general stewart, with two squadrons of hussars, went to otao, eight miles further west, in search of the enemy, but in vain. a squadron was also sent to tamanieb, where osman was reported to be, but found no traces of him. on the st two batteries of artillery and also the th hussars were moved out to handouk. on the rd the gordon highlanders were sent to a point near the entrance of the tamanieb valley to form a new zeriba in conjunction with a company of the th, which marched from souakim to join them, with water and stores. on the th general graham marched with two brigades, under buller and davis respectively, to a zeriba eleven miles from souakim. the march-out was a most exhausting one on account of the heat, and between and men fell out of the ranks. there were numerous cases of sunstroke. according to one account, the number of men who fell out was equal to one-fourth of the whole force, the rear of which, it is said, resembled a routed army. many of the sick found room in the ambulances, and others trudged along as best they could on foot. the men were now becoming tired and disgusted with the campaign, and there was a good deal of grumbling and dissatisfaction in the ranks. the whole force bivouacked when nine miles from souakim, and the night's rest restored the men who had fallen out during the march, and all but four returned to duty on the morning of the th. stewart's brigade of cavalry left the camp shortly after a.m. for tamanieb. graham's orders were that operations should be confined to reconnoitring, the troops to fall back on learning the enemy's position. for the first five miles the route lay across a plain through patches of mimosa. after this, the hills were reached. small parties of the enemy were seen mounted on dromedaries, watching the force. on a hill feet high stewart established a heliograph station for signalling to the zeriba in the rear. after another five miles' march, a second signal station was placed among the hills. from this point the enemy's position could be seen two miles distant. behind them were the wells of tamanieb. the number of the enemy appeared, at first, to be about , , though it subsequently turned out much less. it was now half-past one, and the mounted infantry advanced to within yards, keeping up a fire meanwhile. this skirmishing was continued till o'clock, when, the object of the reconnaissance having been attained, general stewart withdrew to the first signal station. here he was met by general buller, who had advanced with the th and th regiments, having left camp at ten. in the afternoon the remainder of the force, with the exception of the th regiment and the sick, also advanced, and joined buller at the first signal station, where a new zeriba was formed. a quiet night was passed at the advanced zeriba. shortly after a.m. on the following day, the entire force, numbering , men, marched out. the mounted infantry scouted along the ridges to the right and left flanks, but there was for some time no sign of the enemy. it was cool at first, owing to the early hour at which the march commenced, and there were no sick. the men were in the best of spirits, not only at the prospect of offering the enemy battle, but because they believed that the impending engagement would end the campaign. the troops went forward very slowly on account of the rocky nature of the ground. about fifty men fell out owing to the heat. as the hostile position was approached, the mounted infantry and a squadron of hussars were sent forward to occupy the ground held during the skirmish of the previous day. when they advanced the enemy opened a fire, to which the troopers replied. at nine graham brought up the reserve of the mounted infantry, leaving the two infantry brigades in the rear. shortly after this, the enemy's fire slackened. half-an-hour afterwards the st brigade had advanced far enough for the -pounders to open fire on the enemy, of whom only small bodies could be seen. at ten the cavalry skirmishers were within yards of the tamanieb khor, and the soudanese were seen retreating _en masse_ to the right and left. close at hand were the wells, and the troops, instead of pursuing, were halted for a quarter of an hour to water the horses, which were suffering greatly from thirst. the soldiers, too, drank copiously after their march. when the cavalry formed up and moved along the wells to the village the enemy had disappeared. there was no resistance, and graham ordered the burning of the village. this was immediately carried out, and the huts, some in number, were soon in a blaze. there were no casualties on the side of the british, nor do any of the accounts refer to any loss on the part of the enemy, who, according to one report, did not number over altogether. after this achievement the troops started on the return march to souakim. the whole of the force reached souakim on the th, and with the exception of a battalion left to garrison that place was at once broken up, the troops from egypt returning to cairo, and the remainder proceeding to england. no trustworthy information was obtained as to the position or force of osman digna, though the village of tamanieb showed signs of a recent occupation by his army. under these circumstances, to attempt to pursue osman further into the interior was considered to be impracticable. the troops, too, were again suffering from the heat, and it was deemed best to close the campaign for the season. the rapidity of graham's campaign was one of its most striking features. the orders for the expedition were received in cairo on the th february. by the st of march a force of over , men had been assembled at trinkitat, had fought the battle of el-teb, and had brought away the fugitives from tokar. starting from souakim on the th march, the expedition had by the th fought the battle of tamaai, occupied the enemy's position at tamanieb, and terminated the campaign. besides serving to develop the admirable qualities of the british soldier under trying conditions, the campaign cannot be said to have achieved any permanent result, it having only shattered and not annihilated, osman digna. the ill effects of the withdrawal of graham's force upon the rebellious tribes cannot well be exaggerated. notwithstanding their repeated defeats they easily persuaded themselves that they had driven the english out of the country, and the policy of "rescue and retire" pursued by the british government was the means of laying up a store of future trouble for souakim and the neighbourhood. although there was no further opportunity of fighting osman digna at this period, the question naturally arises, whether at all events part of graham's force might not have been usefully employed in assisting gordon in withdrawing the egyptian garrisons. one pretext for the battles of el-teb and tamaai was the necessity for opening the road to berber. on march th lord edmond fitzmaurice said:--"one thing was perfectly certain, that it was of the very greatest importance, with a view to keeping open communications with khartoum, that the road between souakim and berber should itself be open." as the road between souakim and berber was the short cut out of the soudan, the importance of keeping it open could hardly have been ignored by a government concerned in the task of extricating from the soudan an army of , men with all the civil employés and their wives and families. gordon could hold khartoum, but by no possible miracle could he keep open the road hundreds of miles in his rear by which he had to send the troops and refugees down to egypt. hence, he suggested to the government that if they wished to intervene, they should open up the souakim-berber route by indian moslem troops. after the victory at tamaai graham could have sent a few squadrons of cavalry through to berber with ease, and he was anxious to do so. two squadrons would, in the opinion of all the authorities in the soudan, have sufficed to open the road and to save berber, which was the key of the soudan, and without the retention of which evacuation was hopeless. general stephenson and sir evelyn wood both agreed that the move was possible, although stephenson disliked it, owing to the scarcity of water on the road. on february th gordon had telegraphed:-- "there is not much chance of the situation improving, and every chance of it getting worse; for we have nothing to rely on to make it better. you must, therefore, decide whether you will or will not make an attempt to save the two-thirds of the population who are well affected before these two-thirds retreat. should you wish to intervene, send british troops to wady halfa, and adjutants to inspect dongola, and then open up souakim-berber road by indian moslem troops. this will cause an immediate collapse of the revolt." on march nd he telegraphed:-- "i have no option about staying at khartoum; it has passed out of my hands, and as to sending a larger force than , i do not think it necessary to wady halfa. it is not the number, but the prestige which i need. i am sure the revolt will collapse if i can say that i have british troops at my back." on the th sir evelyn baring wrote to lord granville:-- "general gordon has on several occasions pressed for british troops to be sent to wady halfa. i agree with the military authorities in thinking that it would not be desirable to comply with this request." on march th lord granville replied to gordon's urgent entreaties that "her majesty's government are not prepared to send troops to berber." sir evelyn baring, who had opposed the despatch of troops to wady halfa and to berber, on march th recognized the necessity for action. on that day he telegraphed home:-- "it has now become of the utmost importance not only to open the road between souakim and berber, but to come to terms with the tribes between berber and khartoum." but lord granville still felt unable to authorize an advance of british troops. on march th sir e. baring telegraphed:-- "under present circumstances, i think that an effort should be made to help general gordon from souakim, if it is at all a possible military operation. general stephenson and sir evelyn wood, whilst admitting the very great risk to the health of the troops, besides the extraordinary military risks, are of opinion that the undertaking is possible." "we are daily expecting british troops. we cannot bring ourselves to believe that we are to be abandoned by the government. our existence depends on england," is what mr. power, british consular agent, telegraphed from khartoum on march rd. it was in vain; notwithstanding every appeal the british government determined to refuse, until too late, the assistance asked for. chapter xxxvi. the gordon relief expedition. gordon's situation at khartoum in the meantime may be learned from what follows. on the th february, , he issued a proclamation to the inhabitants of the soudan, stating that he would be compelled to use severe measures against those who did not desist from rebellion, and also that "british troops are now on their way, and in a few days will reach khartoum." in a despatch, on the same day, to sir e. baring, gordon said:-- "you must remember that when evacuation is carried out the mahdi will come down here, and by agents will not let egypt be quiet. of course my duty is evacuation, and to do the best i can for establishing a quiet government. the first i hope to accomplish. the second is a more difficult task, and with care and time can be accomplished. remember that once khartoum belongs to the mahdi, the task will be more difficult. "if you decide on smashing mahdi, then send up another, £ , , and send up infantry troops to wady halfa, and an officer to dongola under pretence to look out quarters for troops. leave souakim and massowah alone. i repeat that evacuation is possible, but you will feel the effect in egypt and be forced to enter into a far more serious affair to guard egypt." while gordon was sending almost daily expressions of his view as to the only way of carrying out the policy of eventual evacuation, it was becoming clear to him that he would very soon be cut off from the rest of egypt. his first remark on this subject was to express "the conviction that i shall be caught in khartoum;" and he wrote:--"even if i was mean enough to escape, i have no power to do so." the accuracy of this forecast was speedily demonstrated. within a few days communications with khartoum were interrupted, and although subsequently restored for a time, the rising of the riparian tribes rendered the receipt and despatch of messages exceedingly uncertain. on the th of april, however, gordon succeeded in getting the following message through to sir evelyn baring:-- "i have telegraphed to sir samuel baker to make an appeal to british and american millionaires to give me, £ , to engage turkish troops from the sultan and send them here. this will settle the soudan and the mahdi for ever. for my part i think you will agree with me. i do not see the fun of being caught here to walk about the streets for years as a dervish with sandalled feet; not that i will ever be taken alive." eight days later he wrote as follows:-- "as far as i can understand, the situation is this--you state your intention of not sending any relief up here or to berber. i consider myself free to act according to circumstances. i shall hold out here as long as i can, and if i can suppress the rebellion i shall do so. if i cannot i shall retire to the equator." the complete investment or siege of khartoum may be considered as having commenced about this time. when gordon first began to perceive that he would get no material help from his government, he made several propositions which would, if adopted, have relieved them from further responsibility. as indicated in the foregoing telegrams, one was to make an appeal to international philanthropy, and by employing turkish troops to smash the mahdi. another was that he should steam up the nile, and taking bahr gazelle and the equatorial province in the name of the king of the belgians, join hands with stanley, or whoever else might represent the king, on the congo. while communications were still maintained, gordon sent his account of his first action with the rebels, which showed not only the kind of enemy he had to deal with, but also the sort of men on whom he had to depend for the defence of khartoum. on the th of march he described in the following words an action on the previous day:-- "at eight a.m. on the th two steamers started for halfiyeh. bashi-bazouks and some regulars advanced across plain towards rebels. at ten a.m. the regulars were in square opposite centre of rebels' position, and bashi-bazouks were extended in their line to their right. a gun with the regulars then opened fire. very soon after this a body of about sixty rebel horsemen charged down a little to the right of centre of the bashi-bazouks' line. the latter fired a volley, then turned and fled. the horsemen galloped towards the square, which they immediately broke. the whole force then retreated slowly towards the fort with their rifles shouldered. the horsemen continued to ride along the flanks cutting off stragglers. the men made no effort to stand, and the gun was abandoned, with sixty-three rounds and fifteen cases of reserve ammunition. the rebels advanced, and retreat of our men was so rapid that the arabs on foot had no chance of attacking. pursuit ceased about a mile from stockade, and the men rallied. we brought in the wounded. nothing could be more dismal than seeing these horsemen, and some men even on camels, pursuing close to troops, who, with arms shouldered, plodded their way back." in fact, this fight was a massacre, as the egyptian soldiers did not attempt the least resistance. colonel stewart, who commanded in person, was wounded. the two pashas under him were subsequently convicted of treachery and shot. on the th of june the garrison heard of the fall of berber. the news was brought by the english consul, mr. cuzzi, who was sent in by the rebels to inform gordon that the one connecting link between him and the outer world had fallen into the hands of the mahdi. long before the summer of , it was evident that the position of gordon at khartoum had become so critical that, if he were to be rescued at all, it could only be by the despatch of a british force. as far back as april rd, earl granville telegraphed to mr. egerton at cairo, instructing him to forward a cypher message to gordon asking what would "be the force necessary to secure his _removal_, its amount, character, the route for access to khartoum, and time of operation." early in may, war preparations were commenced in england, and on the th of the month the military authorities in cairo received instructions to prepare for the despatch in october of an expedition for the relief of the soudanese capital. twelve thousand camels were ordered to be purchased and held in readiness for a forward march in the autumn. on the th may a half-battalion of english troops was moved up the nile to wady halfa. a few weeks later some other positions on the nile were occupied by portions of the army of occupation. naval officers were also sent up the river to examine and report upon the cataracts and other impediments to navigation. still it was not till the th august that mr. gladstone rose in the house of commons to move a vote of credit of £ , to enable the government to undertake operations for the relief of gordon, "in case it might be necessary." the government policy on the subject of gordon had been repeatedly attacked in parliament. on july the th lord hartington formally declared to the house of commons that it was not the intention of the government to despatch an expedition for the relief of gordon, unless it was clearly shown that such was the only means by which gordon and those dependent on him could be relieved. "we have received," added the secretary of state for war, "no information making it desirable that we should depart from that decision." urged on, however, by the public press, and plied day after day with questions in the house of commons, the government at last brought forward the vote of credit. the money was granted, and the war office then began to take action. lord wolseley had as early as april th pressed the government on the subject, and on the th july he wrote that he thought no time should be lost in pushing up a small brigade of , or , british troops to dongola. he believed that such a force would most probably settle the whole business, adding, "but you must know that time presses. i believe that such a force could be sent from england and reach dongola about october th if the government is in earnest, and acts at once. remember we cannot command things, and all the gold in england will not affect the rise and fall of the nile, or the duration of the hot and cold seasons in egypt. "time is a most important element in this question, and indeed it will be an indelible disgrace if we allow the most generous, patriotic, and gallant of our public servants to die of want, or fall into the hands of a cruel enemy, because we would not hold out our hands to save him. dongola can be reached without fighting, and our presence there in force might secure for us all the objects we wish to obtain." on the th july gordon sent a message asking where the reinforcements were, and what was their number. on the th he announced, "retreat is impossible. i recommend as a route for troops wady halfa, but fear it is too late." on the st he expressed himself to sir evelyn baring as follows:--"you ask me to state cause and intention of staying at khartoum. i stay at khartoum because arabs have shut us up and will not let us out." the views of the british government as to the rescue of gordon were communicated by the marquis of hartington to general stephenson, commanding the army of occupation, on the th august. the government, the former wrote, were not convinced that it would be impossible for gordon to secure the withdrawal from khartoum, either by the employment of force or by pacific means, of the egyptian garrisons, and of such of the inhabitants as might desire to leave. nevertheless, he added, "her majesty's government were of opinion that the time had arrived when some further measures for obtaining accurate information as to his position, and, if necessary, for rendering him assistance, should be adopted." as to what "further measures" were to be adopted considerable difference of opinion existed amongst the advisers of the government. it was agreed that there were but two routes by which khartoum could be approached by an expedition, one by way of the nile, and the other _viâ_ souakim and berber, but which of the two presented the least difficulty was a point upon which the highest authorities differed. the first involved sending the force a distance of , miles from its base at cairo, by a river in which were innumerable obstacles in the shape of cataracts, rocks, and shoals. the expedition would have to proceed against the stream, thus making progress slow, and in boats, every one of which would have to be specially constructed for the purpose. the second necessitated a march from souakim to berber of some miles over a country furnished only with a few wells, the supply from which might have to be supplemented by water to be carried by the expedition, in addition to a journey of miles from berber to khartoum. in the last case there was an almost absolute certainty that the march would have to be made in the face of an opposing force. general stephenson, who may be considered as the highest authority on the subject, was in cairo, and therefore in a certain sense on the spot. he had, moreover, the advantage of conferring with commander hammill of the _monarch_ and other officers, who had for weeks previously been engaged on the nile in examining into the facilities for getting steamers and boats past the cataracts, and other obstacles in the way of river navigation. his opinion was strongly adverse to the nile route, and in favour of that by souakim and berber. lord wolseley, however, basing his calculations on the success of the red river expedition, had formed an opposite opinion to that of general stephenson, and lord wolseley being all-powerful at the war office, his views were adopted by the government. on the th of august lord hartington further explained his views of the measures to be adopted, insisting that the movement must be made by the nile valley, instead of by the souakim-berber route, with the sole and exclusive object of relieving gordon, adding, "this renders it essential that, in framing any plans for the movement of troops south of wady halfa, the possibility of being obliged to advance as far as khartoum itself should be included in and form a necessary part of such plans." his lordship at the same time declared it to be essentially necessary to provide for the return of the troops before the end of the winter season. lord hartington telegraphed to stephenson to report fully as to what he proposed, and to state the number of the force and of camels which would be required. on the st general stephenson telegraphed to lord hartington, with the information asked for, adding, "my own opinion still is in favour of the souakim-berber route:-- "should this be adopted, egyptian troops should be sent to new dongola, consisting of two battalions, one regiment of cavalry, one battery of artillery; one english battalion retained at wady halfa; half battalion egyptian, korosko; and one english and one and a half battalions egyptian at assouan, leaving about , egyptians with marines available for garrisoning souakim and line of communication to berber." but lord hartington was evidently too much impressed by the arguments of lord wolseley to be inclined for further discussion. on the nd august he wrote:-- "i gather from the telegraphic correspondence which i have had with you since my despatch of the th instant that, in acting on the instructions communicated to you in my despatch of the th instant, you have to this date based your preparations on a scheme of operations which is substantially that sketched out in the report of commander hammill, dated th august. i also learn from your telegram of the st instant that, while it is in your opinion possible by the means indicated in that report to send the small force described in my despatch of the th to new dongola, it would not be practicable by those means to push forward such a force as would in your opinion be required to reach khartoum, and to bring it back within the next winter. influenced by this consideration, you state that your opinion is still, if such an operation should be undertaken, in favour of the souakim-berber route. for the reasons stated in my despatch of the th, i am not now prepared to authorize a movement on that line." then came the intimation that wolseley was to command the expedition. "to lieut.-general stephenson. "_war office_, _august , _, midnight. "after anxious consideration, her majesty's government have come to the conclusion that it is unjust to you to ask you to be responsible for directing an operation which, after full knowledge of the plan, you consider to be impracticable. they have, therefore, decided to send lord wolseley to take temporarily the chief command in egypt. government highly appreciate the manner in which you have carried out the important and difficult duties of your command, and earnestly hope that you may feel yourself able to remain in egypt while lord wolseley is there, and assist him with your advice." in making the choice of routes, the one vital question of time seems to have been insufficiently considered. gordon was known to be hard pressed, and the object should have been for the expedition for his rescue to arrive at its destination with as little delay as possible. from souakim to berber occupied hicks pasha less than three weeks, and from berber to khartoum five or six days more; of course, it is not pretended that a force so large as wolseley had under his orders could march nearly as rapidly as hicks' small detachment. but it may be argued that assuming that the route by souakim was _possible_, and of this there seems no doubt, the relief expedition, even if it had to fight its way step by step, must eventually have arrived in much less time than the many months occupied by wolseley on the river route. chapter xxxvii. progress to dongola. the nile route having been decided on, preparations on a large scale were begun. the first thing was to obtain boats for the transport up the nile; and for these, contracts were at once entered into with various firms in england. eight hundred in all were ordered. from their shape they were called whalers, and they were to be each thirty feet in length, with six feet six inches beam, and a draught of two feet six inches. each was to weigh nine hundredweight, and was to be fitted with twelve oars and two masts with lug sails. every boat was to be fitted to carry a dozen men, viz., two boatmen and ten soldiers, besides provisions and ammunition. the price of each boat was £ . eight steam pinnaces were equipped for the expedition, as well as two stern-wheel paddle-boats. at the same time a contract was entered into with messrs. thos cook and son, the well-known tourist agents, for the transport of the entire force as far as sarras, just above the second or great cataract. to assist in the nile navigation boatmen, called "_voyageurs_" were engaged; of them were french or english-speaking canadians, with a few half-breeds, all from the st. maurice or ottawa districts, and about fifty were iroquois indians from caughnawanga. the remainder were salteaux from manitoba.[ ] in addition to the canadians kroomen were obtained from the west coast of africa to carry stores round the cataracts. all the nile steamers in serviceable condition belonging to the egyptian government, including those under contract to messrs. cook and son, were requisitioned for the transport of the whalers and men of the expedition. it next became requisite to fix the numbers of the force to be placed under wolseley's command. in doing this allowance had to be made for the many posts which it would be necessary to establish in order to keep up the line of communication. it was at first arranged that not more than , men should form the expedition, but later on the number was raised to , . two regiments were ordered from india, three battalions from gibraltar, malta, and cyprus, one battalion from barbadoes, and several companies of the royal engineers and some batteries of the royal artillery, with drafts of the commissariat transport and army hospital corps, from england. these, with the troops already in egypt, and a contingent of seamen and marines, made up a total force of , men, from which lord wolseley was to select the , required for the expedition. colonels sir charles wilson, brackenbury, harrison, henderson, and maurice, and lord anson, were appointed to the force for special service. general sir redvers buller was named chief of the staff, and general earle was told off to command a brigade. the instructions given to lord wolseley stated that the primary object of the expedition was to bring away gordon from khartoum; and when that purpose should be effected, no further offensive operations of any kind were to be undertaken. the government even questioned the necessity of advancing as far as khartoum, and expressed a desire that the sphere of military operations should be limited as much as possible. throughout the month of august the arsenals in great britain were in full activity, and every effort was made to get the expedition forward in time to take advantage of the high nile. during the latter part of the month, and during september, troops and stores were arriving almost daily in alexandria and were being forwarded at once to the front. one may judge of the measures taken from the fact that on the st september, within sixteen days after the order for the nile boats had been given, many of them were already shipped, and a fortnight later , or half the total number, had been sent off. the whalers on arriving in egypt were at once forwarded by rail and river to assiout. thence they were towed by steamer to assouan, over miles further, and just below the first cataract. here most of them were placed upon trucks for conveyance by a railway eight miles long to shellal, on the south side of the cataract. some few were hauled through the rapids and past the isle of philæ. once through the cataract all was fair sailing as far as wady halfa, miles further, where the second cataract forms another obstacle to nile navigation. lord wolseley arrived at alexandria in company with lord northbrook on the th september, and left the same day for cairo. meanwhile the nile, from assiout to the second cataract, presented a scene of unwonted bustle and activity. posts were established at assiout, assouan, wady halfa, and other places for the purpose of forwarding supplies. coaling stations were provided for the steamers, and almost interminable processions of steamers, barges, whalers, and native craft passed up daily with men, horses, and stores. prior to lord wolseley's departure from england, sir evelyn wood and commander hammill had started up the nile to superintend the operations. the st battalion of the royal sussex was conveyed from assouan to wady halfa by the _benisouef_ steamer, and then hurried on to dongola with three months' rations for a thousand men on board some of the boats which the mudir had in the meanwhile despatched to sarras. the royal sussex was replaced at wady halfa by the staffordshire regiment, and then the mounted infantry came up by water to sarras and proceeded to dongola. throughout the earlier part of september troops were constantly advancing, lord wolseley having expressed the desire that they should be pushed on to dongola without waiting for his arrival. the men were conveyed by train to assiout, and thence by steamer to assouan. a large number of the whalers had already arrived at wady halfa, when, on september th, lord wolseley, who had completed his plan of operations, left cairo with his staff for upper egypt. journeying along the nile in the yacht _ferouz_, he made frequent halts on the way, inspecting the military arrangements and visiting various points of interest. arriving at assouan on october st, he inspected the egyptian and british troops encamped there, and, after visiting the temple of philæ, again embarked with sir redvers buller and his staff. even before wolseley had left cairo generals earle and sir herbert stewart had already reached wady halfa. the latter at once set out for dongola, and arrived at his destination on september th, at the same time as two hundred and fifty men of the mounted infantry, who made the journey up the nile from sarras in "nuggars," or native boats. on the th october wolseley reached wady halfa. this had become temporarily the base of the british operations as well as the permanent chief depôt of commissariat and ordnance stores for the expedition. the railway at wady halfa, running for a distance of thirty three miles along the east bank of the nile, was utilized for forwarding stores, &c, to sarras. some of the whalers were landed at bab-el-kebir ("the great gate") and carried overland above the second cataract, whilst others were hauled through it. a good number of the whalers had already passed prior to the arrival of wolseley at wady halfa. the first boat, indeed, was hauled up the rapids on september th without any other appliances than its own gear and some towing ropes, the operation occupying but a quarter of an hour. the second boat was then hauled up by means of commander hammill's cleverly-arranged tackle, and the operation was carried out even more rapidly and safely. at wady halfa, wolseley got news respecting colonel stewart, which he telegraphed as follows:-- _"wady halfa, october , ._ "stewart bombarded berber, and, taking one steamer and some of the boats, with forty soldiers, proceeded down the river. other steamers continued bombardment of berber, and then returned towards khartoum. stewart's steamer struck on a rock at el-kamar, one day's journey above merawi. they arranged for camels to continue journey with suleiman wad gamr, who went on board to undertake to supply camels and guide them, and received a sword and dress; when they went ashore to start, they were set upon and killed. suleiman afterwards took the steamer, and killed all but four on board. express sent out to find out who those four are." the statements made by different natives, who subsequently reached dongola with reports of the murder, varied considerably as to date, time, and place, but as the informants one and all spoke from hearsay, this was not surprising. it was ultimately ascertained that the rumours were perfectly true, and that stewart, after accomplishing two-thirds of his journey from khartoum to dongola, had been murdered, together with mr. power, the british consul at khartoum and correspondent of the "times"; m. herbin, the french consul at khartoum, and a number of greeks and egyptians. from gordon's despatches and sir charles wilson's subsequent report, it appears that the expedition, consisting of three steamers, left khartoum on the night of september th, and proceeded to shendy. the steamers then went on to berber, and, after shelling the forts, two of them returned southward under the command of gordon's man, khasm-el-mus, while stewart and his companions tried to reach dongola with the steamer _abbas_, which carried one gun, and had in tow two boats full of men and women. all went well with the party until they approached abu hamid, when the rebels swarming along the shore opened so severe a fire that those on board the steamer had to cast the boats adrift. the boats fell into the hands of the rebels below abu hamid, and the greeks and egyptians they contained were taken in captivity to berber. the _abbas_, however, with forty-four men on board, pursued its course through the country inhabited by the monassir tribe. on the th september, while the steamer was approaching the village of hebbeh, it ran upon a hidden rock, got caught when partly over, and was badly injured towards the stern. what afterwards occurred was subsequently related by an egyptian stoker, named hussein ismail, who, taken prisoner at the time, ultimately escaped from the rebels and joined general earle's column. he said as follows:-- "we were passing at the time through sheikh wad gamr's country, and had seen the people running away into the hills on both sides of the river. when it was found that the steamer could not be got off the rock, the small boat (a dingey with which the launch was provided) was filled with useful things, and sent to a little island near us. four trips were made. then colonel stewart drove a nail into the steamer's gun, filed off the projecting head, and threw both gun and ammunition overboard. the people now came down to the right bank in great numbers, shouting, 'give us peace and grain.' we answered, 'peace.' suleiman wad gamr himself was in a small house near the bank, and he came out and called to colonel stewart to land without fear, but he added that the soldiers must be unarmed or the people would be afraid of them. colonel stewart, after talking it over with the others, then crossed in the boat, with the two european consuls (mr. power and m. herbin), and hassan effendi, and entered a house belonging to a blind man named fakri wad etman, to arrange with suleiman for the purchase of camels to take us all down to dongola. none of the four had any arms, with the exception of colonel stewart, who carried a small revolver in his pocket. while they were in the house the rest of us began to land. shortly afterwards we saw suleiman come out of the house with a copper water-pot in his hand and make signs to the people who were gathered near the place. they immediately divided into two parties, one entering the house and the other rushing towards us on the banks, shouting and waving their spears. i was with the party which had landed when they charged down. we all threw ourselves into the river, whereupon the natives fired, and killed some of those in the water; several others were drowned, and the rest were speared as they approached the shore. i swam to the island, and hid there till dark, when i was made prisoner with some others, and sent to berti. i heard that colonel stewart and the two europeans were killed at once, but hassan effendi held the blind man before him, so that they could not spear him. they accordingly spared his life, and he afterwards escaped to berber. two artillerymen, two sailors, and three natives, are, i believe, still alive at berber, where they were sent by suleiman. all the money found on board and in the pockets of the dead was divided among the murderers, and everything else of value was placed in two boxes and sent under a guard to berber. the bodies of colonel stewart and the others were thrown at once into the river." hussein ismail, the stoker, did not actually witness the death of stewart, but heard of it from natives, who acknowledged that he fought desperately for his life, killing one of his assailants and wounding a second one with his revolver. according to gordon's diaries, stewart, herbin, and power left khartoum of their own free will. the situation at the time was felt to be desperate. herbin asked to go. stewart said he would go if gordon would exonerate him from deserting. gordon, in reply, said that by remaining and being made prisoner stewart could do no good, whereas by going down and telegraphing gordon's views, stewart would be doing him a service. the greeks, nineteen in number, were sent as a body-guard, as gordon subsequently stated. stewart took with him the journal of events at khartoum, from st march to th september, with the foreign office cypher, all the documents relating to gordon's mission, and £ in gold.[ ] as to gordon's reason for not accompanying the party, he stated in his diary that "he couldn't if he would, as the people were not such fools as to let him, and that he wouldn't if he could, desert them." he added that it was generally believed that the passage of the _abbas_ down was an absolute certainty without danger. forty more whalers reached wady halfa in tow of the steamer _ferouz_ on the th october, and ten days later the canadians also arrived. wolseley now gave orders for the troops to hurry forward with all possible despatch. there was as yet but a mere advance guard at dongola, including the mounted infantry, the first battalion of the royal sussex, some squadrons of the th hussars and the camel corps; the main body of the expeditionary force being still at wady halfa, or even lower down the nile. however, on november nd, the general advance practically commenced by the south staffordshire regiment embarking for dongola. the start of the south staffordshire was followed by that of the cornwall regiment, some detachments of the essex regiment, the royal engineers, the west kent, the royal irish, the gordon highlanders, and such portions of the camel corps, artillery, and transport service as had not yet moved forward. while the mounted detachments proceeded by road along the western bank of the nile, the foot-soldiers rowed up the river in the whale-boats. from wady halfa to dal, a distance of miles, the course of the nile comprises a series of dangerous rapids and intricate passages, the cataracts of samneh, attireh, ambigol, tangour, akasha, and dal following each other in swift succession. the two first are not so difficult, but the rapids of ambigol, which extend some four or five miles, are impassable at low nile, and a severe trial even when the water is high. a short distance further, the tangour cataract bars the way, and it is as difficult of passage as that of ambigol. a quantity of dynamite had been sent out from england for blasting the rocks at this and other points, but when it reached wady halfa any such proceeding was impracticable, as the river was then too high. the dynamite being useless, the boats had either to be carried beyond the cataracts or to ascend them, navigated by the canadians or hauled along by natives specially engaged for the purpose. the difficulties of navigation between wady halfa and samneh were illustrated by the experience of the royal engineers. the detachment of engineers under major dorward, numbering fifty-seven, left sarras in five boats at ten a.m., and by two o'clock next day had just succeeded in making the passage of the nearest cataract. for the greater portion of the distance, seven miles in all, the work was of a most difficult and exhausting description, the current being in some places exceedingly strong, and the banks rough and most unsuitable for towing. the boats proved to be not nearly strong enough for the work for which they were intended. the rudders, too, were found to be too small to be of use, and the canadians found fault with the boats having been provided with keels, which were not only useless but in the way. the difficulties of the ascent were increased by the falling of the nile, which, instead of running quietly and smoothly as before, now rushed in broken water over the shallows, and increased the number of rapids indefinitely. two new and formidable rapids made their appearance in two days between sarras and samneh. the passage of the rapids was aided by natives sent down from dongola; without their help the soldiers could never have hauled the boats up; the cargoes had to be taken out at the foot of the cataracts and carried overland to the upper end; it was not till noon on the th of november that major dorward arrived at ambukol, the voyage occupying over a month. three of the boats which had been injured in the ascent were repaired with tin and lead plates and made ready to continue the journey. the work of navigation was described as most severe, beginning at daylight, and only ending when it became too dark for the men to see what they were doing; the crews were frequently breast-deep in water. to provide for the wants and the relief of the men on the way, a series of stations had been established at ambigol, akasheh, tangour, zarkamatto (or dal), absarat, kaibar, and abu fatmeh, there being on an average one for every thirty-three miles of the river's course between sarras and dongola. each station was commanded by an officer, with a detachment of egyptian soldiers under him and a commissariat depôt. the hauling of the steamers sent up the river for the conveyance of stores or for towing purposes proved extremely difficult. it was necessary to sling them in cables passed under their keels, and secure them with steel hawsers round their hulls, and even then accidents frequently befell them. some thousands of men were employed in hauling the vessels through the intricate and winding passages among the granite rocks that lie in the bed of the river. the s.s. _ghizeh_ passed successfully through the cataract of akabat-el-banet beyond sarras, but on reaching tangour she was wrecked and sunk, only her masts and funnel being above water. at one moment it seemed as if the _nassif-el-kheir_ steamer would meet with a similar fate, and it was only by the greatest exertions and by a wonderful display of skill that she was eventually got past the rapids at samneh. about the same time the twin screw steamer _montgomery_ reached samneh, having passed through the western channel, thus avoiding the full force of the cataract. the first of the steam-pinnaces from england was likewise launched at sarras, being successfully hauled down an improvised slip from the railway to the river, although the drop was a steep one, and the engineers had no proper appliances for such work. one of the stern-wheel steamers built by messrs. yarrow and co. was brought by barges in pieces to samneh, and riveted up and launched there. this vessel, which was feet in length, feet in beam, and only inches in draught, was capable of carrying from to men and a machine-gun. as may be supposed, there was no slight trouble in forwarding the stores which had been collected at wady halfa to dongola. from wady halfa they went a little way by rail, and then to ambigol by camel; between ambigol and tangour, and thence to korti, by native boats and by whalers. the camel corps, above referred to, which had been formed in accordance with lord wolseley's instructions at an early stage, numbered in all some , men, and consisted of detachments from the household cavalry, and other mounted regiments, and from the guards, each forming a separate division--heavy cavalry, light cavalry, and guards, with a fourth regiment of mounted infantry. the detachment of marines was attached to the guards. the idea of forming such a corps was by no means novel, having been adopted by napoleon i., who, when in egypt, organized a similar force, mounted on dromedaries. this french dromedary corps, it is said, would march ninety miles in a day over the desert, without provisions or water. the practice, when in action, was for the animals to lie down, and for the men to fire over them. lord wolseley's camel corps met on the road from wady halfa to dongola with frequent mishaps and delays. the camels, only really at home on their native sands, often got so entangled amongst the rocks and blocks of granite that they could with difficulty be persuaded to advance. as the march was made along the east bank of the nile, it became necessary to ferry the animals over the river at dongola, and considerable time was spent in this operation, as boats were not always ready at the crossing places. on the th october wolseley and his staff left wady halfa by train for sarras, whence they proceeded by camels to hannek, escorted by a small detachment of egyptian troops, and guided by arab sheikhs. _en route_ they met the guards' camel corps, under colonel sir william cummings, and pushed forward to the point where the steamer _nassif-el-kheir_ was waiting to convey them to dongola. on the rd november wolseley arrived at dongola,[ ] and was received by sir herbert stewart and the mudir, or governor. the native troops lined the avenue from the river bank to the mudirieh, and a detachment from the sussex regiment formed a guard of honour. a firman from the khedive to the mudirs, the notables, and the people was read, ordering them to obey lord wolseley, "who had been sent to the soudan to carry out such military operations as he might consider necessary." his lordship conferred on the mudir the order of the second class of st. michael and st. george. it is said that the mudir subsequently underwent a process of purification to rid himself from the contamination thus caused. the same mudir was afterwards found to be in direct communication with the enemy. chapter xxxviii. advance to korti. meanwhile disquieting rumours with regard to gordon had reached cairo, and sir evelyn baring telegraphed to lord wolseley on november rd, asking him whether he had any reason to believe that there was any foundation for the reports which had been current in cairo for the last few days, that khartoum had been taken, and that gordon was a prisoner. lord wolseley telegraphed from dongola the same day to the following effect:-- "major kitchener telegraphs to sir c. wilson that he has seen a man named ibrahim wad-beel, who recently came from the arabs some distance south. he said all was quiet, and when gordon received our messenger, he fired a salute, and held a parade of troops. a second telegram from major kitchener, dated november , announces that haji abdallah had arrived, and stated that a man from shendy reported that the mahdi came with a strong force to omdurman and asked general gordon to surrender. general gordon replied that he would hold khartoum for years." the information as to the position of khartoum up to this date was as follows:-- on the th october a letter had reached cairo from m. herbin, the french consular agent at khartoum. it was as follows:-- "_khartoum, july , ._ "we are in a strong position at khartoum. no need for alarm, unless it be the want of provisions (in two months our provisions will be exhausted). there is abundance of ammunition. the least assistance would enable us to relieve the town. if at the moment of eating our last biscuit we were to attempt to retire in a body northwards, the retreat could only be effected at the cost of immense exertions and dangers (the means of transport are wanting). besides this, the people would rise to a man to pillage the convoy. a few determined men might attempt to escape southwards to the equator, but it would be necessary to abandon most of our soldiers, and all the women and children. gordon pasha has decided that he will share the fate of the town, and i think it my duty to share that of the few frenchmen shut up here. except for unforeseen circumstances, you can even now foresee what will happen." on october st sir e. baring had received a telegram stating that an arab of the kababish tribe had brought the news that the mahdi's troops had attacked gordon's force at omdurman opposite khartoum, a few days before, but the attack was repulsed. in a telegram dated debbeh, november nd, a correspondent gave the following additional news:-- "gordon attacked the rebels at omdurman with a flotilla of twelve vessels, including steamers. for eight hours the engagement lasted. there were , rebels, and they had four krupp guns. one gun burst. they retreated, leaving enormous numbers of dead behind them. the fugitives retired to markeat, but were returning with an additional force." on the st november, sir e. baring had received communications from gordon to the effect that on the date they were sent off, viz., th july, khartoum was "all right and could hold out for four months." the next letter received from gordon appears to have been the following. though dated in august, it was not received till the rd november. it was as follows:-- "_general gordon to sir e. baring._ "_khartoum, august , ._ "we are sending up steamers to senaar, on blue nile, to open route. arabs have left our vicinity in nearly all directions. when steamers come back we hope to recapture berber by surprise, to place garrison in it, and stewart and power will descend nile to dongola and communicate with you. the garrison of berber (to which i shall give provisions for three months) will be the egyptian troops from this place; and i also shall make the foreign consuls go down to berber. i can look after security of berber for two months, after which time i cannot be longer responsible for it, and you must relieve it from dongola, or let the garrison perish and berber be again taken by arabs. you will dislike this arrangement, perhaps, but i have no option; and it would entail no risks to you, seeing that berber will be held during your advance. "all well here, and troops elated at the result of their recent victories." notwithstanding every effort to get the troops up the river as rapidly as possible, so many difficulties intervened that the task occupied much longer than had been anticipated. early in november wolseley telegraphed that, owing to steamers breaking down, difficult coaling, and scarcity of native labour, he did not expect to concentrate his force at ambukol, on the nile just above old dongola, until the end of the year. the necessity for pushing forward with all possible despatch was made clear to wolseley by a letter of much later date, received from gordon on the th november, saying that he could hold out for forty days with ease, but that after that time it would be difficult. the following is an extract:-- "_khartoum, th november, ._ "post came in yesterday from debbeh, kitchener, dated th october, cypher letter from lord wolseley, th september last, which i cannot decipher, for colonel stewart took the cypher with him. no other communications have been received here since st, letter which arrived a week after stewart's steamer left this. "at metammeh, waiting your orders, are five steamers with nine guns. we can hold out forty days with ease; after that it will be difficult. terrible about loss of steamer. i sent stewart, power, and herbin down, telling them to give you all information. with stewart was the journal of all events from st march to the th september. the steamer carried a gun and had a good force on board. "since th march we have had up to date, exclusive of kitchener's th october, only two despatches; one, dongola, with no date; one from souakim, th may; one of same import, th april. i have sent out a crowd of messengers in all directions during eight months. i should take the road from ambukol to metammeh, where my steamers wait for you. leontides, greek consul-general, hanswell, austrian consul, all right. stewart, power, and herbin went down in the _abbas_. your expedition is for relief of garrison, which i failed to accomplish. i decline to agree that it is for me personally. you may not know what has passed here. the arabs camped outside khartoum on the th march; we attacked them on the th march, got defeated and lost heavily, also a gun. we then from that date had continual skirmishes with arabs. * * * * * "the soldiers are only half a-month in arrears. we issue paper money, and also all the cloth in magazines. all the captives with the mahdi are well. the nuns, to avoid an arab marriage, are ostensibly married to greeks. slatin is with mahdi, and has all his property, and is well treated; but i hear to-day he is in chains. "a mysterious frenchman[ ] is with mahdi, who came from dongola. we have got a decoration made and distributed, with a grenade in the centre; three classes--gold, silver, pewter. kitchener says he has sent letters and got none in reply. i have sent out during last month at least ten. steamer with this leaves to-morrow for metammeh. do not let any egyptian soldiers come up here; take command of steamers direct, and turn out egyptian fellaheen. if capture of steamer with stewart is corroborated, tell french consul-general that mahdi has the cypher he gave herbin. hassen effendi, telegraph clerk, was with stewart. you should send a party to the place to investigate affairs and take the steamer." on the th november, lord hartington telegraphed to lord wolseley to know how the information in gordon's letter affected his plans. in reply, his lordship, who had gone back to wady halfa, to hurry forward the expedition, stated that gordon's letter made no change in his plans, but that it seemed to indicate the almost impossibility of gordon's relief without fighting, adding that he, wolseley, had sent gordon the following message:--"wady halfa, november , . yours of th inst. received th; the first i have had from you. i shall be at kasr dongola in four days." a few days later an arab merchant who arrived at dongola from khartoum _viâ_ shendy and ambukol, and who had come by the desert route, stated that both water and fodder were plentiful. this news was confirmed by a messenger who returned to dongola from khartoum on the th november. on the th a messenger sent by gordon arrived at dongola with a letter addressed to the khedive, nubar pasha, and baring, in cypher, and dated as far back as the th september. the letter began:-- "there is money and provisions in khartoum for four months, after which we shall be embarrassed." a telegram from gordon to sir e. baring and nubar pasha, undated, but received th november, gave the following details:-- "seeing now that the nile is high, and steamers can go as far as berber, i have formed an expedition of , men of the khartoum garrison, which will proceed by steamers in order to rescue the mudirieh of berber from the hands of the rebels. after its recovery this force will remain at berber with food for two months only, and if in that time the relieving army does not reach berber in order to reinforce it, the nile will have fallen and the islands will be dry, and the same result will ensue as before. therefore it is to be hoped that the necessary troops will be sent to seize the ghesireh of berber while the nile is high; and stewart is going down in the small steamer, the _abbas_, to proceed to dongola by way of berber, in order to communicate (with you) on the soudan question." on the th november a messenger who had been despatched with a letter to gordon, but had been taken prisoner not far from khartoum, and had subsequently made his escape, came into camp. he reported that the mahdi's troops were suffering from disease, food was very dear, the arabs were deserting, but the kordofan men were faithful to him; that gordon sent to the mahdi, inviting him, if he were the real mahdi, to dry up the nile and cross over; that five hundred regulars recently went over to gordon; that the regulars still with the mahdi were discontented; that on the th he saw an attack made on khartoum between the blue and white niles; that it was repulsed, and the mahdi, who was looking on, was very angry because it had been made without his orders. aware that time was of paramount importance, wolseley, in order to stimulate his men to exertion, offered a prize of £ to the battalion which should make the quickest passage from sarras to debbeh, twenty miles further up the river, a measure which was much criticized by a portion of the british press.[ ] wolseley now gave orders for the formation of a small naval brigade, to be commanded by lord charles beresford, his naval aide-de-camp.[ ] on the rd november, some cases of smallpox having occurred at dongola, sir herbert stewart started to select another camping-ground at debbeh, a little further up the river. all the remaining troops destined to take part in the expedition reached wady halfa by the end of november, with the exception of the st battalion of the cameron highlanders, which remained at korosko. the advance in force from dongola commenced on the nd december, from which date the troops as they arrived were moved on beyond debbeh to ambukol, where a depôt for supplies had been formed and placed in charge of stewart. the head-quarters were established at the latter place on the th december. from ambukol the force was moved a few miles further up the river to korti, a much healthier spot. sir herbert stewart, with the mounted infantry and guards' camel corps, reached korti on the th december, after a march along the east bank of the nile. wolseley's arrival at korti on the th was followed by that of the south staffordshire regiment. the last companies of the south staffordshire, with part of the sussex regiment, reached the front on the nd, and they were speedily followed by other detachments. the light camel corps, under colonel m'calmont, arrived on the th, after a twenty days' march from wady halfa, and at the same time the heavy camel corps came up from debbeh. general buller, the chief of the staff, reached the front soon afterwards. of the nile journey wolseley reported to lord hartington, "the english boats have up to this point fulfilled all my expectations. the men are in excellent health, fit for any trial of strength, as the result of constant manual labour." as a commentary on the above, it may be mentioned that nine out of sixteen boats which brought up some of the duke of cornwall's regiment were lost, and the remainder, owing to the slightness of their build, had to be patched with tin to prevent their sinking--over fifty boats in all were lost. there can be no doubt as to the "constant manual labour" mentioned by lord wolseley. the men arrived in a deplorable plight, many of them without either boots or trousers. a more ragged set of soldiers never arrived at the seat of war. according to one account there was literally not a sound garment in the whole column, and the men resembled falstaff's ragged regiment rather than a body of british troops. by christmas day, a great part of the expeditionary force was concentrated at korti.[ ] it now became necessary to decide upon the route to be adopted by the expeditionary force in order to reach khartoum. the one important question to consider was that of time; already the journey up the river had taken much longer than was expected. the season during which military operations could be carried on was limited, and if, as had been intended, the expedition was to return before the hot weather there was not a day to spare. moreover, gordon's latest communications showed that he was rapidly running short of provisions, and if not speedily relieved khartoum must fall. as a military operation, the route by the nile offered many advantages, and had time permitted there is no doubt that wolseley's whole force would have gone that way. but the distance to be traversed requiring months for its accomplishment, rendered it imperative to adopt some other expedient if gordon was to be relieved at all. under these circumstances, it was determined to divide the expeditionary force into two columns, one to proceed across the desert to metammeh, a distance of miles, and thence to khartoum, and the other to proceed by the river up the nile valley. shortly stated, wolseley's plans for the campaign were as follows:-- st. by despatching a column across the desert to metammeh to secure the shortest passage to khartoum, and at the same time to hold the wells at gakdul and abu klea, and to occupy metammeh whilst communications were maintained with gordon. nd. by despatching a second column along the nile valley to disperse the rebels around hamdab, fifty-two miles distant from korti, to punish the monassir tribes for the murder of colonel stewart, to leave berti in safety, to rid abu hamid of the enemy, and to open up the desert route from thence to korosko, whence stores and ammunition for an attack on berber would be forwarded. thus covering a great bend of the nile, the column would operate on berber, dislodge the rebels there, and join hands with the other column on the banks of the nile at metammeh. in a letter to the secretary at war, wolseley gives the reasons for adopting the above plan of operations in the following words:-- "i had always thought it possible that upon arrival here i might find it necessary to operate beyond this point in two columns--one continuing up the river in our english-built boats, while the other pushed rapidly across the desert to metammeh, and it was with the view of securing to myself the power of moving across this desert that i proposed the formation of a camel brigade. "any march across this desert with a small column, as an isolated operation, would be hazardous, and for the purpose of my mission a most useless undertaking. such a column would most probably be able to fight its way into khartoum; possibly it might fight its way out again; but it could never bring away general gordon and his garrison in safety. undertaken, however, under present circumstances, the march of a small force across this desert presents a very different aspect. the so-called mahdi and his supporters are well aware that they have to deal not only with it, but also with the english army, which they know is advancing up the nile on khartoum by abu hamid and berber. upon arrival here i had to decide whether i should keep all my force together and follow the nile valley to khartoum, or to divide it into two columns--one following the river, while the other was pushed rapidly across to metammeh. "if i were not restricted by time, the first course would be by far the most satisfactory, the safest, and would insure the best results; but i know that general gordon is pressed by want of food, and the hot season is not far off, when military operations in this country are trying to the health of european soldiers. i therefore decided upon the last-mentioned course." the first, or desert column, was placed under the command of sir herbert stewart, and consisted of men mainly belonging to different sections of the camel corps; a company of the royal engineers, part of the th hussars, and detachments of the commissariat and medical corps. the force was to be accompanied by , camels for the purposes of transport. sir charles wilson was to proceed with stewart, and to the former was allotted the task of opening up communication with gordon when once the nile should be struck at metammeh. lord charles beresford and a small body of seamen were told off to accompany the force, to take possession of any of gordon's steamers which might be found at metammeh. a detachment of infantry was to proceed to khartoum by the steamers, and sir charles wilson was empowered on entering khartoum to march his men through the city to show the people that british troops were at hand, but he was directed only to stay long enough to confer with gordon. the nile column was placed under major-general earle, and consisted of the staffordshire and duke of cornwall's regiments, the black watch, the gordon highlanders, a squadron of the th hussars, a battery of egyptian artillery, an egyptian camel corps, and the auxiliary native troops of the mudir of dongola. the whole, with transport, numbered about , men. chapter xxxix. stewart's desert march. the march across the desert being determined upon, the first step was to seize and hold the wells of gakdul, some ninety-five miles distant, and there establish a depôt for ammunition, provisions, and stores. this being accomplished, and a garrison being left to guard the post, the remainder of the force, with the baggage animals, were to return to korti and make a fresh start with further supplies. this somewhat cumbrous arrangement was necessitated by the insufficient transport at the general's disposal. on the th december, stewart's force, consisting of officers, , non-commissioned officers and men, , camels, and forty horses, paraded for inspection on the rising ground south of korti, preparatory to the march across the bayuda desert. the baggage-camels were arranged in columns, with from twenty to thirty marching abreast, and with fifty yards interval between each troop. the guards in front and the mounted infantry in the rear were in close companies ready to dismount and form square at a moment's notice. wolseley inspected the whole, and in the afternoon the cavalry scouts, under major (afterwards sir herbert) kitchener with some arab guides, moved off in front. a little later the great column got in motion, striking straight off across the undulating and pebbly plain towards the distant horizon. it was a strange sight to see the camels, with their necks stretching out like ostriches and their long legs, moving off in military array, until the rising dust first blended desert, men, and camels in one uniform grey hue, and finally hid them from the sight of those who remained in camp. scared gazelles rose from among the rocks and bounded away across the desert, from time to time, as the force advanced. broad as was the face on which this column marched, it extended fully a mile in length. the first halt was made at five p.m. with a view to ascertaining the whereabouts of the hussars, who had gone on in the morning to collect wood and light fires at the first halting-place. after some time it was discovered that they had taken the wrong route, and it was not till midnight that they joined the column. the halt lasted for an hour and a half. general stewart then gave orders for the column to close up, and for the camels to proceed on a broader front. [illustration] when they moved on again in the bright moonlight, the length of the column was reduced to half-a-mile, and was not only under better control on the line of march, but more able to resist any sudden attack. the march continued until early in the forenoon of the st, when a long halt was called, and the camels were unloaded. there was some excitement among the men when they halted for the first bivouac, owing to the uncertainty as to the whereabouts and disposition of the inhabitants. only a few huts were visible, and these were deserted. plenty of green fodder was obtainable, and the troops remained on the spot undisturbed until three in the afternoon, when a fresh start was made. the force now marched through a beautiful country. great spreading plains covered with mimosa and scrub succeeded one another, bounded by black rocky mountains, through the gorges of which the troops passed only to emerge on fresh tracts of the same character. the formation observed almost throughout the march was columns of companies, and the force was so distributed that in two minutes three squares could be formed in échelon to resist any attack. at a quarter-past five the column again halted, and then, with a bright moon, resumed its way, passing the wells of hambok, where only a small supply of water was found. after leaving hambok the route was amidst verdant trees and long grass, forming quite a contrast to what one would expect in a so-called desert. shortly after midnight a halt was made at the wells of el howeiyah. at . on the st january, , the march was resumed till one p.m., when a halt was made during the heat of the day. thus far the column had met neither friends nor foes, but just before this halt the capture was made of a man and his family, who were watching their flocks. the man, who turned out to be a noted robber chief, was thenceforth made use of as a guide. later in the afternoon the column marched again until dark, then, waiting until the moon rose, resumed its way. without any further halt the column continued its march throughout the night. during the night one or two prisoners were taken; one of them being an arab from metammeh, who gave important information. at four a.m. on the nd the force was opposite the wells of abou halfa, three miles from the main track. a company of mounted infantry was sent to seize the wells. this was effected, only a few natives being seen, and these fled at the approach of the troops. three hours later the mouth of the gorge leading to gakdul wells, distant miles from korti, was reached. the column had occupied forty-six hours and fifty minutes on the march, and been thirty-two and three-quarter hours actually on the move. there had been no casualties on the road, and the men, although they had remained almost without sleep since leaving korti, were in the best of spirits. the wells at gakdul proved to be three in number, situated at the north end of a large circular plain or natural amphitheatre, surrounded by steep rocks of yellow sandstone some feet in height. the day was occupied in watering the camels. at eight p.m. sir herbert stewart, with all the camels and the whole force except the guards and engineers, started on the return journey to korti. the force, numbering in all about , which was left to guard the wells, set to work under major dorward, of the royal engineers, to construct three forts on the high ground, and made improvements in the arrangements for watering and in the means of access to the wells. major kitchener's mounted infantry captured a convoy of camels laden with dates for the mahdi. the appearance of natives in the neighbourhood was reported, but otherwise the little party at the wells met with no excitement. on the th a convoy of stores and ammunition, under colonel clarke, arrived at the wells from korti. stewart and the column which accompanied him back from gakdul returned to korti on january the th. lord wolseley rode out to meet the column and complimented the general on his achievement. the prisoners taken stated that metammeh was occupied in force by the mahdi's army. some put the fighting men there at , , others said that there were , . the enemy had thrown up an intrenchment and were prepared to receive an attack. in the interval between general stewart's departure from and return to korti, lord wolseley (on the th december) had received from a messenger from khartoum a communication from gordon, showing the desperate condition of things there. the messenger brought a piece of paper the size of a postage-stamp, on which was written:-- "khartoum all right. "(signed) c. g. gordon. "_december th, ._" it was genuine, as gordon's writing was recognized, and his seal was on the back of it. gordon told the messenger to give lord wolseley the following message:-- "we are besieged on three sides, omdurman, halfiyeh and khojali. fighting goes on day and night. enemy cannot take us, except by starving us out. do not scatter your troops. enemy are numerous. bring plenty of troops if you can. we still hold omdurman on the left bank and the fort on the right bank. the mahdi's people have thrown up earthworks within rifle-shot of omdurman. the mahdi lives out of gun-shot. about four weeks ago the mahdi's people attacked omdurman and disabled one steamer. we disabled one of the mahdi's guns. three days after fighting was renewed on the south, and the rebels were again driven back. "(secret and confidential.)--our troops in khartoum are suffering from lack of provisions. food we still have is little; some grain and biscuit. we want you to come quickly. you should come by metammeh or berber. make by these two roads. do not leave berber in your rear. keep enemy in your front, and when you have taken berber send me word from berber. do this without letting rumours of your approach spread abroad. in khartoum there are no butter nor dates, and little meat. all food is very dear." it is clear that the words "khartoum all right" were simply intended to deceive in the event of the written communication getting into the wrong hands. this became evident later on from a letter which gordon wrote to a friend in cairo at the same date as he penned the words "khartoum all right," but which did not arrive till the month of february. "all is up," he said; "i expect a catastrophe in ten days' time. it would not have been so if our people had kept me better informed as to their intentions. my adieux to all. c. g. gordon." the latter part of the verbal message is significant, and seems to imply that gordon anticipated that if the approach of the troops were to become known, the treachery which he had all along expected would be accelerated. it is scarcely necessary to say that only the written portion of gordon's communication, viz., "khartoum all right," was disclosed to the british public, who thus formed a very erroneous opinion as to his real position. it does not appear that wolseley's plans were changed by the receipt of gordon's message; there was, in fact, nothing to be done but to push on with all possible speed. on the th january stewart, having strengthened his column, again set out for gakdul. on the th, the force reached the hambok wells, whence stewart pushed forward to howeiyah. on arriving there it was found that the engineers and mounted infantry, left behind on the previous journey, had sunk several holes to a depth of nine feet or so in the rough gravel soil near a dry watercourse, and that some of these holes contained about six inches of cold opal-coloured water with a chalybeate taste. unfortunately the holes in question had been practically drained a couple of hours before by the men of the previous convoy; so that stewart's troops had to content themselves with only a quart per head for the entire day. resuming their forward march, they reached a grassy plain to the south of the galif range shortly after sunset, and here they bivouacked until the following morning. a fresh start was then made, but the heat and excessive thirst were beginning to tell both on men and camels, thirty of the latter dropping dead on the road. however, the column persevered in its course, and the wells of abu haifa were reached at three in the afternoon. pannikins, canteens, water-bottles, and horse-buckets were soon at work, the men taking their turn until their thirst was quenched. early on the th the column was astir, and at eleven o'clock it defiled along a rocky gorge into the crater-like amphitheatre where the gakdul reservoirs were situated. here was found the force left to guard the wells when stewart returned to korti. it was ascertained that more wells were to be found across the hills at a distance of a mile or two, but the three natural receptacles at gakdul itself were computed to contain among them nearly half-a-million gallons of water, so that for military purposes the supply was regarded as practically inexhaustible. colonel burnaby arrived at gakdul on the th with a convoy of grain. the following day, the march towards abu klea was resumed, major kitchener going back to korti, and colonel vandeleur being left with of the sussex regiment at gakdul to hold that station, whilst the guards who had previously protected the wells joined the column. the force was composed as follows--three troops th hussars; naval brigade, one gardner gun; half battery royal artillery, i.e., three ( -pounder) screw-guns; heavy camel regiment; guards' camel regiment; mounted infantry, camel regiment; sussex regiment; naval brigade royal engineers; transport and medical corps; in all , men with horses, , camels, and drivers. beyond gakdul, the road led across a more barren region than that which had been previously traversed. only ten miles were covered on the afternoon of the th. the following day the column was again on the move at a.m. when opposite gebel-el-nil, a well-known mountain in the desert, a halt was made to allow of the stragglers coming up. the march was now telling severely on the heavily laden camels, which had been for several days on half allowance of forage. numbers of them fell through sheer exhaustion, and had to be shot to put them out of their misery or to prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy. at noon the march was resumed until the evening, when, after going twenty-four miles since the morning, the column halted near another mountain, gebel serghain. on the th the column started at a.m. it was then too dark to see anything, and the force got into some confusion. this, however, was soon rectified on daylight appearing. whilst halted at half-past eleven for breakfast, a report was received from lieutenant-colonel barrow, of the th hussars, who had been sent forward with his squadron to reconnoitre the neighbourhood of the abu klea wells, stating that he had seen some fifty of the enemy standing in groups on the hills about four miles north-east of abu klea. shortly after this the whole force was advanced. the ground now traversed was a vast flat plain favourable for military evolutions, and the guards' camel regiment, the heavy camel regiment, and the mounted infantry camel regiment moved in a broad front in line of columns at half distance. before the column rose steep black mountains through which it had to pass, and in the centre, at a point where the ground slopes towards the nile, were the wells of abu klea. it soon became evident that the enemy was in force, and looking to the hour (two p.m.) stewart deemed it undesirable to attempt an attack that day. the column, therefore, was ordered to bivouac when about three miles from abu klea. abu klea is an elevated spot in the desert, about feet above the level of the nile, distant above forty-three miles, on the caravan track, from gakdul, and from metammeh twenty-three miles. on the troops bivouacking for the night the men were set to work cutting down brushwood, and forming a zeriba round, the baggage and camels. a stone breastwork with a frontage of about yards was thrown up as an additional protection some yards further to the front. pickets were also placed on the hills to the left of the position. from an advanced position occupied by the outposts the enemy's camp was sighted across a pass about two miles ahead, and in front of it a long line of flags marked the position. meanwhile two troops of the enemy were watching the movements of the british force from the hills on the left front. towards six o'clock the enemy fired a few stray shots on the british right flank, to which three of the screw-guns replied with a few rounds. the enemy continued firing at intervals all night, with no results beyond one slight casualty. chapter xl. the battle of abu klea. upon the th inst. it was plain that the enemy were in force. during the night they had constructed works on the right flank of the column, from which a distant but well-aimed fire was maintained. both on the right and in front the manoeuvring of their troops in line, with drums beating and banners waving, was apparent, and everything pointed to the probability of an attack being made. under these circumstances sir herbert stewart was in no particular hurry to advance, in the hope that his apparent dilatoriness might induce the enemy to make the attack. the skirmishers had been engaged from early dawn, and bullets soon began to fall thicker and thicker around the british position; men who had jumped up to stretch their legs were not sorry to lie down again under cover of the little wall which surrounded the zeriba. after waiting some time for the attack which the enemy did not seem disposed to make, the general ordered breakfast to be served out at a.m., and made his preparations for an advance. his intentions were, briefly, to fight his way to the wells of abu klea at any cost, leaving only a small garrison to protect the baggage and camels in the zeriba; the wells once won, to send back for the baggage, feed and water the column, and push on to metammeh at once. meanwhile the fire became hotter and hotter. stewart seemed a favourite target for the enemy's marksmen, and brought grief to several. the first to fall was major dickson, of the royals, shot through the knee. colonel burnaby's horse next received a wound, and was led limping to the rear. major gough (commanding the mounted infantry) was knocked senseless by a bullet on the temple, and lieutenant lyall, r.a., was struck in the back by another. the camp was now strengthened to admit of its being held by a reduced garrison of mounted infantry, sussex, and details; and the rest of the force, with the exception of the hussars and a few of the mounted infantry, proceeded to form square, in which formation the advance was to be made. the square was formed as follows:--left front face, two companies mounted infantry; right front face, two companies guards, with the three guns royal artillery in the centre. left face, two companies mounted infantry; one company heavy camel regiment. right face, two companies guards, detachment royal sussex. rear face, four companies heavy camel regiment, with naval brigade and one gardner gun in the centre. in the centre were some thirty camels for carrying water, ammunition, &c. it will be noticed that each face of the square, except the rear, was made up of a composite force, the object being, probably, to provide against a break of corps at the angles. thus the guards held the right forward angle, and the mounted infantry the left; the heavy camel regiment held the rear face and the left rear angle; the sussex regiment filled the gap in the right rear face between the guards and the heavy camel regiment. thus there was a break of corps only at the right rear angle. it should be stated that after various experiments all idea of fighting on the camels had been abandoned, and that in the operations of the column at this time and subsequently the camels were simply used for purposes of locomotion. this being so, the terms "camel corps" and "mounted infantry," when used must in most cases be understood as meaning dismounted troops belonging to those corps respectively. at about a.m. the force advanced, its front and flanks being covered by skirmishers who engaged those of the enemy. a square formation is unsuited for rapid movement, and the men went forward at a slow march to allow of the guns and camels coming up, keeping always on open rocky ground, so as to avoid spots where the enemy could collect unseen. no sooner had the advance commenced, than a redoubled fire from the enemy showed that these movements had attracted their attention. the hills on each side were alive with their sharpshooters and spearmen, running parallel to the square and keeping up a hot fire all the time. the skirmishers had to do their utmost before they succeeded in reducing the fire which at this time poured down upon stewart's men. the ground was rough and uneven, and intersected with ruts and water-courses, which it was difficult to get over without disarranging the square, so that frequent halts had to be made. at a.m. the column brought its left face opposite the left flank of the enemy's position, and it became necessary for him to attack in order to avoid being enfiladed. when about , yards from a line of flags on the left front marking the enemy's position, the guns fired four or five shells, and hundreds of men were seen to rise up and bolt, leaving only their standards visible. then on a sudden came the enemy's attack. to resist it the square was halted on the face of a hill sloping towards the enemy's position, and a hurried attempt was made to close up the rear. when the order to close up was given, the naval brigade had begun to move the gardner gun from its position in middle of the rear face and put it at the left rear corner of the square. in order to do this it had to be taken through the camels, which were crowded together between the two positions, and in the confusion when the rear closed up the gun and the sailors round it were left outside the formation; they were thus at first dangerously exposed, but, happily, just before the rush the gardner gun was drawn back, taken through the left face, and brought into action a few paces in front of it. the first intimation of the impending charge was the running in at full speed of the skirmishers. they were followed by a black mass of arabs, said to have been , in number, who, rising suddenly out of cover when the troops were at a distance of yards from the flags, made straight for the square. their shouts as they came on were described by an eye-witness as being like the roar of the sea. headed by mounted emirs or sheikhs with banners in hand, they neared the left front of the square, where they were received with such a deadly fire from the (dismounted) mounted infantry that they swerved round the left flank and made a furious onslaught on the left rear of the square, where the heavy camel regiment was stationed. the rush was so sudden that the skirmishers had barely time to reach the square before the enemy fell upon the heavy camel corps,[ ] who, to avoid killing their own men, were for some minutes compelled to reserve their fire. among the first to feel the effects of the charge were the naval brigade, which had, as already stated, put their gun outside of the square. after firing eight rounds at the advancing enemy, it was noticed that the elevation was too great. this was rectified, but after six more rounds the gun jammed and became useless. when lord charles beresford was attempting to clear it with the assistance of his chief boatswain's mate, the enemy came on them, spearing the latter, and knocking lord charles down under the gun. his two officers, lieutenants pigott and de lisle, were speared, whilst the rest of the naval brigade were driven back for a few minutes, when a rush was made, and the gun recaptured, lord charles then getting back unhurt into the square. with such impetuosity was the charge made that the heavy camel corps were borne back, and the square penetrated by the sheer weight of numbers. frantic shouts to the guards to stand firm were heard. both officers and men still faced the enemy, although the line of the heavies was bent into an irregular semicircle extending into the square as far as the kneeling camels behind. these camels formed a useful breastwork, beyond which the assailants could not penetrate, and over and around the animals the battle raged, both parties fighting hand to hand, bayonet against spear. for ten minutes a desperate struggle extended from the left rear to the centre. it was at this period that colonel burnaby fell, a spear having severed his jugular vein, but not until he had killed with his own hand more than one of his assailants. stewart's horse was thrown off his legs and then speared, and his orderly was killed beside him. the general's life was only saved by the coolness and presence of mind of sir charles wilson, who was standing next to him. a few of the enemy had crawled in between the camels, and one man who had succeeded in doing this was making, spear in hand, for the general. sir charles wilson observed the move, whipped out his revolver, and shot the man dead. many of the camels were speared by the assailants, and the interior of the square formed a mass of falling camels and struggling combatants, half hidden amid dust and smoke. the issue could not, however, be said to have been a moment in doubt, for the heavy camel corps were soon supported by soldiers from the other side of the square. these were in readiness to oppose any further advance had the line given way, though they were obliged to withhold their fire so long as the two parties were mingled in the strife. later on they faced about and fired into the square, killing no doubt both friends and foes. it was not long before every arab who had entered the square was killed, the rest beaten back, and amid three hearty cheers the square re-formed on fresh ground away from the killed and wounded. it was now half-past three, and as the enemy moved off the guns opened on them with grape at yards range, and hastened their retreat.[ ] they withdrew in a slow, sullen way, turning round from time to time as if anxious to come on again. eventually the last of them disappeared over the sand-hills. the force opposed to stewart was stated by the prisoners taken to consist of ten tribes of about men each. according to the report of the intelligence department, their numbers were still greater, and were made up of ababdeh, bisharin, and other arabs from berber, soldiers of the old egyptian army, arabs and others from metammeh, men of the mahdi's regular army ( armed with rifles), and arabs of various tribes from kordofan. the rifles with which some of the enemy were armed were all of the remington pattern, and formed part of the arms captured from hicks pasha's army. the rest of the enemy carried the heavy soudan sword or a long spear, supplemented in most cases by a shield of tough hide. the berber force, which had a contingent of horsemen, retreated towards berber after the action. throughout the battle the enemy fought with the most reckless courage and absolute disregard of death. the troops on the right attack were led by abu saleh, emir of metammeh, on the left by mahommed khair, emir of berber. the latter was wounded, and retired early; but saleh came desperately on at the head of a hundred fanatics, escaping the fire of the martinis marvellously, until at last he was shot down in the square. the loss of the enemy was not less than , killed and wounded, bodies being counted on the open space flanking the square. the slaughter would have been greater still had the square been able to open fire as soon as the charge commenced, instead of having to wait till the skirmishers had run in. but for this, in spite of their bravery, comparatively few of the assailants would have succeeded in coming to close quarters. the british loss, viz., ten officers and sixty-five non-commissioned officers and men killed, and eighty-five wounded, was very heavy for a force whose total number was only , men. the following is the list of officers killed:-- colonel burnaby, royal horse guards; major carmichael, th lancers; major atherton, th dragoon guards; major gough, royal dragoons; captain darley, th dragoon guards; lieutenant law, th dragoon guards; lieutenant wolfe, scots greys; lieutenants pigott and de lisle, naval brigade; lord st. vincent.[ ] the greatest loss on stewart's side fell on the heavy cavalry camel corps, of whose officers six were killed and two wounded. the extraordinary disproportion of killed and wounded officers as compared with the rank and file is remarkable, and speaks volumes for the self-sacrificing devotion of the officers of both services. the seizure of the abu klea wells was a matter of paramount importance, and the detachment of the th hussars, which had come up too late to strike at the retreating foe, was pushed forward to perform this service. this they were able to accomplish without resistance, a fact which goes far to prove the demoralization of the enemy. the hussars, as stated in stewart's report, took possession of the wells at p.m. they then sent back filled water-skins for their comrades at the zeriba. jaded as the rest of the men were by marching, by night alarms, by a fierce heat, and an encounter with an enemy seven times their number, they reached the wells soon after. the water was plentiful, and though of a muddy yellow colour, it was fit for drinking. at eight at night a portion of the guards, with some of the heavy camel corps and mounted infantry, were sent back to fetch the occupants of the zeriba in the rear. the force then bivouacked on the ground near the wells without tents, provisions, or baggage. the night was piercingly cold, and the men had to get between the camels, and cover themselves with the baggage nets for warmth and shelter. next morning the party despatched to the zeriba returned, and the whole column, including camels and baggage, was now concentrated at the wells. on the arrival of the zeriba detachment with stores and provisions, the force partook of its first meal since the morning of the previous day. chapter xli. the advance on metammeh. although active preparations were commenced at once for the march to metammeh, the column was not ready to proceed till . p.m. on the th. the interval was occupied in loading up the camels, filling the water-bottles and constructing a fort to protect the wounded, who were to be left behind with a detachment of the sussex regiment. it had been hoped that the advance would be postponed until the following morning, in order that the men might have a rest, but general stewart was resolved to push on before the enemy had time to recover from their recent defeat. so, as soon as everything was in order, the march commenced. stewart's intention was to proceed along the metammeh road, and after passing the wells of shebacat and getting within a few miles of metammeh, to turn to the right and strike the nile about three miles above the town. this he hoped to do before daybreak, and then to attack the town. the column moved off with the hussars in front, then the guards, and after them the convoy, followed by the heavies and the mounted infantry. the total number of camels was , , of which , were ridden by the fighting part of the force, and the remainder were used for transport. the force got on pretty well and with few halts until sunset, but as darkness came on the tall grass became thicker, and the ground more broken. here the camels began to tumble about and get out of their places. after two hours of this work, the guide reported that they were getting near the wells, and the guards dismounted so as to be prepared for an attack. the trees now became more dense, and the tracks so diminished in number as to allow only room for a half section of cavalry to pass between the scrub on either side. here the column fell into wild disorder; the baggage camels got entangled in the bush, and many of them had to be left behind.[ ] the men, utterly worn out by want of rest, went to sleep, tumbled off, and their unguided camels wandered off the track. to show the confusion that existed, on several occasions the rear guard were found in front of the force, thus proving that the troops were going in a circle. the passage through the bush, difficult as it would have been for the men and transport by daylight, by night, and with no moon, became almost impossible, and the disorder was endless. had the enemy attempted to rush the column in the darkness, the consequences might have been disastrous, more especially considering the exhausted condition of both men and animals. still the column blundered on till at last it got to open ground, where a long halt was made. at . a.m. on the th, the force again advanced over a fairly easy country, with a few scattered trees, but no path. both men and animals were so worn out that continual halts had to be made. directly the halt sounded the men laid down to snatch a few minutes' sleep. daylight found the column still some six or seven miles from the nile, which, however, was nowhere visible. stewart, suspecting the guide of treachery, now placed him in charge of a cavalry escort, and altered the direction of the column more to the eastward in the hope of striking the river. after going about two miles further, the town of metammeh, with a broad tract of vegetation marking the presence of the nile, came in sight. there was no chance now of getting to the river without being seen, so the column kept on its way till about a.m., when crowds of the enemy were observed swarming out of the town, some coming straight towards the british force, while others kept along the river bank as if to cut off the column from the nile. the troops had by this time reached an open piece of ground, where, on a low gravelly hill, they halted and formed square round the camels. it was evident that a fight was inevitable, and stewart, determining that his men, exhausted by their long night march, should not fight on empty stomachs, ordered breakfast to be got ready. meanwhile the enemy were working round the position with great rapidity, and firing with their remingtons into the square, where by a.m. the bullets began to drop freely. the plain around was dotted with bushes, and there were many depressions, so that the enemy's marksmen, whilst concealed themselves, were able to keep up a steady fusillade. to protect the men, a zeriba of camel saddles, boxes, &c., was hastily constructed. the work was very trying, and the men fell fast whilst it was going on. as the fire became hotter, the parapet of the zeriba grew in height, and here and there traverses of boxes and packages were built up as a protection against the enfilading fire of the enemy's sharpshooters. a little after ten general stewart fell, severely wounded, and from this moment sir charles wilson took over the command. other casualties occurred about the same time, including lieutenant c. crutchley, of the scots guards, wounded, and cameron, correspondent of the "standard," and herbert, correspondent of the "morning post," killed. burleigh, of the "daily telegraph," was also wounded. the british troops all this time were replying as best they could to the enemy's fire, but the men were gradually being worn out, and their shooting was comparatively ineffective. the enemy being concealed in the long grass, the men in the zeriba laboured under the disadvantage of being exposed as targets without being able to strike back. this went on for hours, the fire on both sides continuing without intermission, and men dropping fast. it became evident that this state of things could not last, and orders were given to construct works in which to place the heavy baggage and the wounded, in charge of a small detachment, whilst the square should take the initiative and march to the nile. under heavy fire the works were completed, a redoubt being thrown up by major dorward and lieutenant lawson, of the engineers, and the zeriba strengthened. this was not accomplished without loss, twelve men being killed and forty wounded up to this time. the baggage, camels, &c., were protected by the artillery and the gardner guns which were left in the zeriba. with them were the th hussars (whose horses were so done up as to render them useless as cavalry), the naval brigade, half the heavy camel corps. colonel barrow was left in command under lord charles beresford, who was the senior officer in rank. during the forming of the square, so hopeless did the situation appear to some of the correspondents, that they started for abu klea, but were turned back, partly by the cavalry sent out by colonel barrow, and partly by the enemy's horsemen. eventually all the correspondents remained in the zeriba except villiers, the artist of the "graphic," who went forward with the column. owing to the delay caused by strengthening the zeriba and constructing the redoubt, it was three o'clock when the square moved slowly out from the zeriba. the object of the advance was not so much to attack as to gain the desired position on the river. the movement was a strikingly bold one, as the smaller force left behind was exposed to great risks, and the larger one was weakened by division. everything depended on the steadiness of the advancing square. were it to give way, the small party remaining in the redoubt could not hope to hold out for any length of time. the column was about , strong. the front of the square was composed of the grenadier guards and coldstreams, the right flank of the scots guards and part of the heavy camel corps, and the left flank of the mounted infantry, while the sussex regiment and another part of the heavy camel corps brought up the rear. they moved at a slow march, keeping always in the open, covered by the fire of the gardner gun in the redoubt, whilst flanking skirmishers threaded their way through the mimosas, for the ground was rough and irregular, with bushes in all directions. for two miles the enemy, though visible in force, made no direct attack, but contented themselves with keeping up an incessant rifle-fire from a distance. however, on approaching a gravel ridge between the british force and the river, a body on foot, some thousands strong, was seen approaching in crescent formation. the square was at once halted, and the men lying down, delivered volley after volley with the utmost steadiness. soon the critical moment came when the charge took place. led by several emirs on horseback, of the enemy's spearmen hurled themselves against the square. the troops never wavered for a moment, but cheered lustily when they saw the rush coming. the main body of the assailants made for the left angle of the front face, where the guards and mounted infantry were posted. the attack looked serious, but the guards and mounted infantry received the charge with a fire so deadly at yards, that all the leaders with their fluttering banners went down, and not one got within thirty yards of the square. the fight only lasted a few minutes; the dervish front ranks were swept away, and then there was a backward movement as the whole of the assailants recoiled and, with the masses assembled on the adjoining hills, disappeared in the direction of metammeh. they left bodies on the field, including those of five of the emirs, whilst not a single british soldier was either killed or wounded in repelling the charge. during the advance, the garrison in the zeriba had been engaging the enemy at long range. though attacked by rifle-fire up to the time that the charge was made on the square, the assailants never came to close quarters. the garrison made effective use of the guns in shelling the masses of the enemy on the gravel hills in front of wilson's advancing force. as the column moved forward, their shells were seen bursting and scattering the crowds, and it was mainly owing to the accuracy of the artillery fire that a larger number of spearmen did not join in the charge. the british loss in the day's fighting was twenty killed and sixty wounded. the officers and newspaper correspondents killed were as follows: officers, th hussars, quartermaster a. g. lima; commissariat and transport corps, a. c. jewell; correspondents, messrs. st. leger herbert and cameron. a few minutes' halt to enable the men to have a drink of water and fill up their ammunition pouches was allowed, and then the column continued its march towards the hill. when the gravelly ridge was occupied the sun was about setting, and the river, which had been so long looked for, was not yet in sight. parties were pushed on in search of it in the darkness, and eventually, half an hour after nightfall, the nile was reached.[ ] the wounded were at once taken to the most suitable place to be found on the river bank, whilst the men went down by companies to drink. the camels, which were by this time as worn out as the men, were turned adrift to graze in the surrounding vegetation. the men were so exhausted that when they came up from their drink they fell down like logs, and difficulty was experienced in rousing them and getting them into their places for the night. the force was allowed to bivouac in peace on the nile bank, and both officers and men, lying on the bare ground, found the rest of which they were so much in need. the only sign of the enemy's presence was the beating of the "tom-toms," which went on all night. on the th the adjacent village of abu kru (which for some unknown reason was called gubat) was occupied, and a small garrison being placed there, the rest of the troops, recruited and refreshed, marched back to relieve the party at the zeriba. as the returning column neared the work, the small garrison greeted it with hearty cheers. the task of removing the wounded, together with the rest of the camels, the baggage, and guns, was then commenced, and continued until the whole were brought to the new position at gubat.[ ] the hussars' horses by this time had been two days and the camels five days without water. sir charles wilson's dash for the nile was one of the most hazardous of military operations, and has been condemned by nearly all professional critics. he not only divided his already reduced forces in the face of the enemy, but cut himself off from his baggage, artillery, and supplies. on the other hand, there was an absolute necessity for gaining a position on the river with the least possible delay, and, if a further justification were wanted, sir charles can point to the complete success which attended the movement. if one regards closely the question of risk, it is impossible not to feel that the despatch of stewart's column of only , men across the desert against an enemy of unknown strength was in itself a highly venturesome proceeding, and one which, if undertaken by a less able commander or with inferior troops, must have ended in disaster. this, in fact, was very nearly being the case with the column at abu klea, where nothing but the steadiness of the men saved the day. "success justifies all risks," but it is a curious circumstance that, whilst one argument against adopting the souakim-berber route was that it involved a long desert march with a fight at the end at berber, this was practically what happened to stewart's force, which, after a long and trying march, had to fight towards its end both at abu klea and metammeh. there was this difference, however, between the two, that the result of stewart's operations was to open a line of communications from metammeh to cairo of more than , miles, instead of one of only miles from berber to the red sea. there was the further consideration that, from the disposition of the mahdi's forces, less resistance would probably have been met with at berber than was encountered in the bayuda desert, whilst khartoum being almost as accessible from berber as from metammeh, the former would have been nearly as important as the latter as an objective point for the purposes of the expedition. on the st, a garrison having been left in camp to protect the wounded, the rest of the column marched towards metammeh, which was found to be a long village of mud houses with loopholed walls and two or three mountain guns. if, as was thought possible after the events of the previous day, it was found to be undefended, wilson's idea was to take possession of the place. the advance commenced at daybreak. on nearing the town it was found to be full of people and strongly held. an adjoining village was occupied by wilson's men, who had to sustain a well-aimed fire from the loopholed buildings, whilst they could hit nobody in return. two of the british guns were brought up, but did little harm, the shell merely going through the mud walls without bursting. wilson's force was too small and already too much incumbered with wounded to justify an attack at close quarters, and the town if taken was too big to hold. so he determined to retire without pressing the attack. the troops, whose casualties amounted to only one man killed and one officer wounded, now deployed and fell back covered by skirmishers and the artillery. just at the moment when the attacking force was nearest the town, and the guns were attempting to make a breach in the enemy's walls, four steamers flying the egyptian flag came down stream and anchored. every one knew at once that they were from general gordon, and greeted them with loud cheers. they were commanded by nusri pasha, and were sent by gordon from khartoum to communicate with the expeditionary force. they had on board some soudanese and egyptians and some brass howitzers. four of the latter were at once landed and run into action by a force of soudanese from the steamers under khasm-el-mus, a native sheikh with the rank of bey. these made excellent practice at the town up to the moment when the retreat sounded. khasm-el-mus stated that he had seen a force under feki mustapha marching down the west bank from khartoum, and that it would reach metammeh by sunset or very early next morning. the camp at gubat was therefore hurriedly placed in a state to resist an attack, and arrangements were made for bringing in such of the stores as still remained at the zeriba. chapter xlii. gordon's journals. gordon's journals began on th september, , and continued to th december, . want of space renders it necessary to give but a few extracts. gordon seems to have felt the announcement that the object of lord wolseley's expedition was to relieve him not less acutely than the neglect with which he had been treated by the government. more than once he recurs to the subject, and the receipt of some newspapers mentioning the departure of the gordon relief expedition drew from him the following comments:-- "i altogether decline the imputation that the projected expedition has come to _relieve me_; it has come to save our national honour in extricating the garrisons, &c., from the position our action in egypt has placed these garrisons in.... _i came up to extricate the garrisons and failed; earle comes up to extricate garrisons, and, i hope, succeeds_. _earle does not come to extricate me_.... i am not the _rescued lamb_, and will not be." in another passage he refers again to the personal question:-- "it may be said that the object of the present expedition is for my relief personally; but how is it possible for me to go away and leave men whom i have egged on to fight?" on the subject of how the expedition should advance, and of what it ought to do on arrival, he wrote the following:-- "my view is this, as to the operations of british forces. i will put three steamers, each with two guns on them, and an armed force of infantry at disposal of any british authority. will send these steamers to either metammeh, opposite shendy, or to the cataract below berber to there meet any british force which may come across country to the nile. these steamers with this force coming across country will (d.v.) capture berber and then communicate with khartoum.... when berber is taken i should keep the bulk of the forces there, and send up the fighting column to khartoum." on the same subject he adds:-- "i cannot too much impress on you that this expedition will not encounter any enemy worth the name in a european sense of the word; the struggle is with the climate and destitution of the country. it is one of time and patience, and of small parties of determined men, backed by native allies, which are got by policy and money. a heavy lumbering column, however strong, is nowhere in this land. parties of forty or sixty men, swiftly moving about, will do more than any column. if you lose two or three, what of it? it is the chance of war. native allies above all things, at whatever cost. it is the country of the irregular, not of the regular. if you move in mass, you will find no end of difficulties, whereas, if you let detached parties dash out here and there, you will spread dismay in the arab ranks." later on he wrote:-- "all that is absolutely necessary is for fifty of the expeditionary force to get on board a steamer and come up to halfiyeh, and thus let their presence be felt; this is not asking much, but it must happen at once, or it will (as usual) be too late." it will not excite any great surprise that gordon should have felt bound to come to the conclusion that-- "we are wonderful people; it was never our government that made us a grand nation; our government has been ever the drag upon our wheels. it is, of course, on the cards that khartoum is taken under the nose of the expeditionary force, which will be _just too late_." as indicated in this last sentence, gordon seems to have had a presentiment that the relief which he had been looking to, more for the sake of his followers than of himself, would fail to arrive in time. thus, on october th, he wrote, "if they do not come before the th november, the game is up, and rule britannia." and then comes the following paragraph, in characteristic style:-- "i dwell on the joy of never seeing great britain again, with its horrid, wearisome dinner-parties and miseries. how we can put up with those things passes my imagination! it is a perfect bondage. i would sooner live like a dervish with the mahdi than go out to dinner every night in london. i hope, if any english general comes to khartoum, he will not ask me to dinner. why men cannot be friends without bringing their wretched stomachs in, is astounding." the variety of gordon's ideas, military, political, and humorous, is forcibly illustrated throughout the journals. now he is describing a battle with clearness and graphic power, now he is criticizing a government or a minister, and now and again he is indulging his love of fun, at one time in pure jest, and at others in brilliant satire. speaking of the tendency of his men to duck their heads in order to avoid the arab rifle-fire, he says:-- "in the crimea it was supposed and considered mean to bob, and one used to try and avoid it. ---- used to say, 'it is all well enough for you, but i am a family man,' and he used to bob at every report. for my part, i think judicious bobbing is not a fault, for i remember seeing on two occasions shells before my eyes, which certainly had i not bobbed would have taken off my head. 'and a good riddance, too,' the foreign office would say." one of the most amusing passages is that in which he says, "i must say i hate our diplomatists." here follows a rough sketch of two figures, one intended for sir evelyn baring, and the other for mr. egerton, his deputy in cairo. the former is represented as saying, "most serious, is it not? he called us humbugs--arrant humbugs." egerton is made to reply, "i can't believe it; it's too dreadful." gordon, with characteristic candour, continues, referring to diplomatists in general, "i think with few exceptions they are arrant humbugs, and i expect they know it." the foregoing is accompanied by one of the many extracts from the scriptures, which abound. it is as follows: "blessed is the man who does not sit in the seat of the scornful" (ps. i. ). hearing the news that to prevent outrage the roman catholic nuns at obeid had been compelled to declare themselves married to the greek priests, gordon remarks, "what a row the pope will make about the nuns marrying the greeks; it is the union of the greek and latin churches." on the rd of september gordon says, that from th march till nd september the garrison had expended , , remington cartridges, , krupp cartridges, and , mountain-gun cartridges. he calculated that of the remington cartridges perhaps , had been captured by the enemy, so that the number fired away would be only three millions. as the rebels lost perhaps , men in all, he reckons that each man killed required , cartridges to kill him. there is less in the diaries than might have been expected in the way of personal attack on the government which sent gordon to khartoum. he says, indeed:-- "i could write volumes of pent-up wrath on this subject if i did not believe things are ordained and work for the best. i am not at all inclined to order half rations with a view to any prolongation of our blockade; if i did so it would probably end in a catastrophe before the time when, if full rations are given, we should have exhausted our supplies. i should be an angel (which i am not, needless to say) if i was not rabid with her majesty's government; but i hope i may be quiet on the subject of this soudan and cairo business, with its indecision; but to lose all my beautiful black soldiers is enough to make one angry with them who have the direction of our future." the diaries refer frequently to the stewart incident, already mentioned in these pages. gordon resolved to send the _abbas_ down, and upon his assuring stewart, in reply to his inquiry, that he "could go in honour," stewart left. stewart asked for an order, but this gordon refused, as he would not send him into any danger he did not share. it was the wish of stewart and mr. power (the "times" correspondent) to leave khartoum and proceed down the nile, and gordon placed no restraint on their wish. further, when they left he took every step in his power to provide for their security. he sent his river boats to escort them past berber, and he gave them much advice, which, if it had been implicitly followed, should have brought them in safety to dongola. once reconciled to their departure and the despatch of some of his steamers northwards, he formed his plan for the co-operation of the latter with the relief expedition. it has been shown how this was actually carried out; but while thus endeavouring to facilitate the progress of the expedition, gordon seriously weakened his own position in khartoum. that these steamers, each of which he considered worth , men, had to run no inconsiderable danger is shown by the following extract:-- "if any officer of the expedition is on board, he will know what it is to be in a penny boat under cannon-fire. the _bordein_ has come in; she has seven wounded and one woman killed." the news of the loss of the _abbas_ was a terrible blow to gordon, and although at the time he knew nothing certain as to the fate of those on board, yet he feared treachery. many of his anticipations as to the ultimate fall of khartoum and other events were prophetic; and although he did not foresee the exact circumstances of the loss of the _abbas_, he foresaw the fate of stewart and those with him. after he heard that the _abbas_ had been captured, but had received no information as to the circumstances of the loss, he writes:-- "stewart was a man who did not chew the cud, he never thought of danger in prospective; he was not a bit suspicious (while i am made up of it). i can see, in imagination, the whole scene, the sheikh inviting them to land, saying, 'thank god, the mahdi is a liar!'--bringing in wood--men going on shore and dispersed. the _abbas_ with her steam down, then a rush of wild arabs and all is over!" throughout the journals reference is made to various important documents, the most notable of which is a letter from the mahdi to gordon, dated nd moharrem, ( nd october, ). in it the writer says:-- "we have now arrived at a day's journey from omdurman, and are coming, please god, to your place. if you return to the most high god, and become a moslem, and surrender to his order and that of his prophet, and believe in us as the mahdi, send us a message after laying down your arms and giving up all thought of fighting, so that i may send you some one with safe-conduct, by which you will obtain (assurance of) benefit and blessing in this world and the next. otherwise, and if you do not act thus, you will have to encounter war with god and his prophet. and know that the most high god is mighty for your destruction, as he has destroyed others before you, who were much stronger than you, and more numerous." in reply, gordon sent a telegram to the commandant of omdurman, to be communicated to the mahdi, with the memorable words "i am like iron, and hope yet to see the english arrive." the following passages record some of the later incidents of the siege:-- " th november, . a.m.--for half an hour firing lulled, but then recommenced, and is still going on. the _ismailia_ was struck with a shell, but i hear is not seriously damaged. the _husseinyeh_ is aground (i feel much the want of my other steamers at metammeh). . a.m.--firing has lulled; it was very heavy for the last three-quarters of an hour from _ismailia_ and arabs. it is now desultory, and is dying away. _husseinyeh_ is still aground; the _ismailia_ is at anchor. what a six hours' anxiety for me when i saw the shells strike the water near the steamers from the arabs; imagine my feelings! noon.--the firing has ceased, i am glad to say. i have lived years in these last hours! had i lost the _ismailia_ i should have lost the _husseinyeh_ (aground), and then omdurman and the north fort, and then the town. one p.m.--the arabs are firing on the steamers with their two guns. the _husseinyeh_ still aground; that is the reason of it. . p.m.--now has ceased. the _ismailia_, struck by three shells, had one man killed, fifteen wounded on board of her; she did really very well. this is our first encounter with the mahdi's personal troops. . p.m.--the _ismailia_ tried to take _husseinyeh_ off and got struck twice, in addition to the three times before mentioned, with shells, so she desisted from the attempt. the arabs are firing on the _husseinyeh_. i have ordered the krupp of (fort) mogrim to play on the arab guns, and shall wait till night to take off the _husseinyeh_. she is nearer to the left bank than to the right bank. it is not clear if she is aground or half sunk (equally a trouble). . p.m.--the arabs are bringing their guns nearer to the aground or half-sunken _husseinyeh_. the _ismailia_ reports that the two last shells have done her no material damage. . p.m.--the arabs have now three guns bearing on the _husseinyeh_. six p.m.--the firing has ceased. i hope to get the _husseinyeh_ off to-night. seven p.m.--the arabs keep up a dropping fire on the _husseinyeh_, who, i hear, has two shell holes in her, and has six men, including the captain, wounded. " nd november.--i am terribly anxious for the fort at omdurman, and am trying to devise some means of occupying the arabs and diverting their attention elsewhere.... the arab camps are about five miles from the city. " th december.--i have almost given up an idea of saving the town; it is a last resource we make to open the route to the omdurman fort. " th december.--i have given up all idea of landing at omdurman; we have not the force to do it. the arabs fired forty-five rounds at (fort) mogrim and the steamers. we had two men wounded at mogrim and one killed. this is most distressing, to have these poor fellows wounded and killed. " th december.--the steamers went up and attacked arabs at buri. certainly this day after day delay has a most disheartening effect on every one. to-day is the two hundred and seventy-sixth day of our anxiety. the arabs appear to have suffered to-day heavily at buri.... we are going to send down the _bordein_ the day after to-morrow, and with her i shall send this journal. if some effort is not made before ten days' time, the town will fall. it is inexplicable this delay. if the expeditionary forces have reached the river, and met my steamers, one hundred men are all that we require just to show themselves." the latest entry in the diaries is on th december, and is as follows:-- "arabs fired two shells at the palace this morning: ardebs dhoora in store; also , okes of biscuits. . a.m.--the steamers are down at omdurman engaging the arabs. consequently i am on 'tenterhooks.' . a.m.--steamers returned. the _bordein_ was struck by a shell in her battery. we had only one man wounded. we are going to send down the _bordein_ to-morrow with this journal. if i was in command of the two hundred men of the expeditionary force, which are all that is necessary for the movement, i should stop just below halfiyeh and attack the arabs at that place before i came on here to khartoum. i should then communicate with the north fort, and act according to circumstances. now, mark this, if the expeditionary force--and i ask for no more than two hundred men--does not come in ten days the town may fall, and i have done my best for the honour of our country. good-bye. "c. g. gordon." it would be impossible to find words more simple and at the same time more pathetic than those contained in the concluding sentences of the man who so long held the attention of the world riveted upon him, and who, unaided and alone, maintained the highest traditions of british courage and fortitude. chapter xliii. wilson's voyage to khartoum. "khartoum all right, can hold on for years.--c. g. gordon, : : ' ," was the cheering message, written on a tiny slip of paper, which reached sir charles wilson by gordon's steamers. with this writing came gordon's journals, containing a narrative of events from the th september to the th december, some private letters and also some despatches addressed by him to "the officer commanding h.m.'s troops," to sir evelyn baring, and others. in one of the despatches, dated th october, , gordon informs the officer in command of the british troops of the sending to him of the steamers, and advises the removal from them of all egyptians, whether pashas, beys, or privates, all of whom gordon terms "hens." the letter concludes:-- "if you do not use the steamers, at least take out the hens and send them back empty. if you choose to put black troops on board, they will be welcome, but not those heroes of tel-el-kebir." in another letter, dated st october, addressed to "the chief of the staff, soudan expeditionary force," gordon wrote that he had tendered the resignation of his commission in the british army, and requested that the general commanding her majesty's troops advancing for the relief of the garrison might be informed of this fact. the letter addressed to sir evelyn baring was dated the th december. in it gordon stated that, having been sent to khartoum to draw up a report on the state of the soudan, and for this purpose having been placed under the orders of her majesty's minister in egypt, he now informed him that colonel stewart took down this report, and that consequently gordon's connection with the foreign office and baring had ceased. the latest letter was dated the th december, and was addressed to the chief of the staff. its contents were as follows:-- "i send down the steamer _bordein_ to-morrow with vol. of my private journal containing account of the events in khartoum from th november to th december. the state of affairs is such that one cannot foresee further than five to seven days, after which the town may at any time fall. i have done all in my power to hold out, but i own i consider the position is extremely critical, almost desperate; and i say this without any feeling of bitterness with respect to her majesty's government, but merely as a matter of fact. should the town fall, it will be questionable whether it will be worth the while of her majesty's government to continue its expedition, for it is certain that the fall of khartoum will insure that of kassala and sennar." the writing dated th december, , containing the expression, "khartoum all right, can hold on for years," was probably intended, like gordon's previous message to the like effect, merely to convey the information that he was still holding out. the wording of the document was simply a _ruse_ in the event of the capture of the person who brought the message, on foot, to the steamer after she left khartoum. this is apparent from the letter of the th december, as well as from the statements of the egyptian officers who accompanied the steamers. they reported that they had been for some weeks stationed a short distance above metammeh waiting for the arrival of the british column. they had assisted in getting messages into and out of khartoum, where the situation was altogether most gloomy. gordon himself was well, they said, but his soldiers were despairing of relief, and it was necessary that some europeans should proceed with the utmost alacrity to khartoum, in order to reassure the population and the troops. abdul hamid bey, who commanded one of the steamers, the _bordein_, informed sir charles wilson that he left khartoum on the th in that vessel, and gordon then told him that if he (abdul hamid) did not return with english troops within ten days it would be too late; and that in that case he had better not attempt to return at all. the other three steamers had quitted khartoum in september, and had been down to shendy and other places looking for the expeditionary force. on the nd january, , it was decided to construct two forts--a village fort to be held by the guards, and a river fort, containing the hospital, to be held by the remainder of the force. the three small guns of the column, together with some from the steamers, were put in position. the same day, the steamers were utilized by sir charles wilson for the purposes of another reconnaissance, this time towards shendy, a town opposite to metammeh on the right bank of the nile. only a small force, consisting for the most part of a detachment of the mounted infantry, was embarked. shendy was found to be in the possession of the enemy, though they were not in overwhelming force. one krupp gun was mounted there. the steamers contented themselves with throwing a few shells into the place and then retired. it was found that a portion of the enemy had occupied a small island in the nile just opposite the british camp. the guns of the steamers were speedily brought to bear on them, and the infantry opening a steady fire drove the intruders out of the island and across the river. the whole of the rd was occupied in changing the crews and soldiers on board the steamers, fitting them up and loading them with supplies for khartoum, and preparing for a start. owing to the absence of coal, wood had to be substituted, and the latter commodity was scarce. it was only obtained by landing parties from the steamers carrying off the timber of which the sakheas or waterwheels were constructed. a convoy of camels under colonel talbot was sent back to gakdul after dark with despatches for lord wolseley, and instructions to bring up provisions. the escort of men accompanying the convoy reduced the little garrison at gubat to a total of all told. the original plan was for lord charles beresford to man two of the steamers with his naval brigade and, after putting fifty of the sussex regiment on board, to take them with sir charles wilson to khartoum. unfortunately it was impossible to carry out this programme. all the naval officers were killed or wounded except beresford, who was so ill as to be unable to walk, and many of the best petty officers and seamen were also gone. beresford indeed offered to accompany the expedition, but, as he was clearly not in a fit condition, wilson felt bound to decline the offer. after consultation with him khasm-el-mus was placed in command of the steamer _bordein_, and abdul hamid bey in command of the _tala hawiyeh_. it was lord wolseley's idea that the military escort should enter khartoum in red coats. there was some difficulty in finding a sufficient number of coats for the purpose, but at the last moment they were obtained from the guards, and the sussex men were enabled to appear in tunics which were sadly wanting in point of fit, though correct in colour. at a.m. on the th sir c. wilson left for khartoum in the _bordein_, with captain gascoigne, yorkshire hussars, ten non-commissioned officers and men of the sussex regiment, and one petty officer, artificer, royal navy; the _tala hawiyeh_ followed with captain trafford and ten non-commissioned officers and men of the sussex, lieutenant stuart-wortley, king's rifles, and one petty officer, artificer, royal navy. captain trafford commanded the escort, and captain gascoigne and lieutenant stuart-wortley accompanied wilson for service with gordon, at khartoum. no information has been given why only two of the four vessels were despatched, nor why only twenty british soldiers were embarked. of course little more than a "demonstration" could have been made with any force such as the steamers could have carried, even if all of them had been employed. still the singular reduction from , , the total of the british army in egypt, to , , the force told off for the expedition, then to , , the number of sir herbert stewart's column, and finally to twenty, the number of sir charles wilson's forlorn hope, cannot fail to strike the reader. colonel boscawen was left in command of the force which remained at gubat. when near sheikeih, on the left bank, a portion of the force under fiki-mustapha, which, it had been reported, was marching on metammeh, was seen in the distance. it was ascertained afterwards that this force, about , men, had halted on receiving news of the fight at metammeh, and then retired to wad-habeshi. on the th two shukriyehs came on board and reported that for the last fifteen days there had been fighting at khartoum, and on the th a man shouted out from the left bank, that a camel-man had just passed with the news that khartoum had fallen, and that gordon had been killed. on the th, a shukriyeh on the right bank stated that khartoum had fallen two days previously, and that gordon had been killed. the news was generally discredited, and the vessels prepared to force their way past the enemy's batteries into khartoum, the _bordein_ leading and the _tala hawiyeh_ following close astern. the orders to the detachment of the royal sussex were to fire volleys at the embrasures of the batteries, whilst the soudanese troops kept up an independent fire and the four guns on the steamers replied to the fire of the batteries. on approaching halfiyeh it was noticed that the palm-grove there had been burned, and that three or four large nuggers were lying alongside the bank. on the attention of khasm-el-mus being called to this, he at once replied, "gordon's troops must be there, as the mahdi has no boats." directly afterwards a heavy fire was opened upon the steamers from four guns, and from rifles at from to yards range. one gun was in a sakhea pit at the water's edge, two in an earthwork a little above the sakhea, and one in the village. after passing shamba, two guns on the right bank opened on the steamers while a heavy rifle-fire came from both banks, and this was sustained until they came within range of the guns of omdurman. when abreast of tuti island, which it was expected to find in gordon's possession, the vessels were received by a sharp musketry fire at from to yards range; three or four guns, of which one was a krupp, opened fire from the upper end of tuti, or from khartoum, two guns from the fort at omdurman, and a well-sustained rifle-fire from the left bank. the steamers returned the fire both with guns and rifles. on reaching a point beyond tuti, wilson came to the conclusion that khartoum was in the hands of the enemy, and that it would be a useless sacrifice of life to attempt to land or try to force a passage to the town itself; he therefore ordered the _bordein_ to turn and run down the river at full speed. the _tala hawiyeh_, which had grounded for a few minutes, near the upper end of tuti island, followed, and the steamers drew up for the night near tamaniat. here wilson sent out two messengers, one to go to khartoum to ascertain the fate of gordon, the other to collect information. the latter, on his return, stated he had met a jaalin arab, who told him that khartoum had fallen on the night of the th, and that gordon was dead. he also said that on the th the mahdi had entered khartoum, prayed in the principal mosque, and then retired to omdurman, leaving the town to three days' pillage. the reasons which led wilson to the conclusion that khartoum had fallen were:--the heavy fire brought to bear from tuti island; the absence of any fire from khartoum in his support; the fact that no egyptian flag was flying from any place in or near the town, though government and other houses were plainly visible; the presence of a large number of dervishes with their banners on a sandspit; and the fact that a number of gordon's troop boats and nuggers were lying along the left bank of the white nile under omdurman fort. on the th the _tala hawiyeh_ ran at full speed on a sunken rock in open water opposite jeb-el-royan and rapidly filled. the _bordein_ was brought up at a small island below the wreck, and before sunset captain trafford and lieutenant stuart-wortley came down with a large nugger, in which they placed every one on board the steamer, the two guns, and such of the ammunition as had not been damaged. fiki-abd-er-rahman, who had come down to the river with a flag of truce at omdurman, and followed down to the scene of the wreck, came on board with a letter from the mahdi, which was addressed to the party. the letter stated that khartoum had been taken and gordon killed, and offered a safe-conduct to any one sent to verify the facts. the mahdi enjoined the english to become moslems if they wished for peace, and promised protection to khasm-el-mus and his followers if they submitted. the messenger, on the other hand, stated that gordon was with the mahdi at omdurman, and that the garrison of tuti having refused to submit had been put to the sword. wilson made no reply to the mahdi's letter, but, to secure a safe passage through the cataracts, where the slightest opposition would have been fatal to every one on board the steamers, khasm-el-mus, with wilson's cognizance, answered that he would never give himself up unless the mahdi sent him a special safe-conduct and promise of safety. if this were sent he would surrender to fiki-mustapha at wad-habeshi, where guns had been mounted to oppose the passage of the steamers. on the th they passed the most difficult portion of the cataract without opposition (the result of khasm-el-mus' answer, for during several hours the soldiers and men on the steamer and nugger were at the mercy of a few sharpshooters). the same day two shukriyehs came on board with information that gordon was shut up in the mission church at khartoum with some faithful followers. on the st, after the _bordein_ had been lowered down a difficult fall with great care, she was run on a sunken rock off the island of mernat between two and three miles above the enemy's position at wad-habeshi. the steamer was beached on the sandspit of a small island, and everything landed. the island of mernat, about forty yards distant, was occupied by a picket of the royal sussex and the crew and soldiers of the _tala hawiyeh_, and at nightfall the picket of the sussex was withdrawn to the smaller island. stuart-wortley was directed to proceed as soon as it was dark to gubat, with information of the position of the expedition, and a request for assistance. wilson at first intended to cross to the right bank of the nile and march as soon as the moon rose, but finding it impossible to move the soudanese troops, he bivouacked with khasm-el-mus on mernat, whilst captains trafford and gascoigne remained on the smaller island to guard the stores. on the st february a zeriba was made on mernat island; the four guns from the steamers were mounted, and all the ammunition and stores which had been saved were collected. some shukriyehs from the mainland visited the party, and said that since the fall of khartoum they had determined to throw in their lot with the mahdi; they advised khasm-el-mus to do the same, but he replied he would never surrender without a letter from the mahdi promising safety. when the zeriba was finished, wilson called the men to arms and, during the inspection which followed, was able to assure himself that a large proportion of the soldiers would remain loyal and fight to the last. one soldier deserted during the day. two messengers were sent to halfiyeh to obtain news from khartoum. on the nd fiki-mustapha, from wad-habeshi, crossed to the island and tried to persuade khasm-el-mus to submit, but he returned the same answer as before. a friendly shukriyeh brought news that a steamer had left gubat for the relief of the force at noon the previous day. a sister of khasm-el-mus, who had followed the steamers down the river, also arrived, with news that the families of all the officers on board the steamers had been killed at khartoum, and that gordon was killed whilst coming out of his room in government house. khasm-el-mus' sister was sent back to khartoum to obtain further information, and to purchase back any of the family sold into slavery. during the afternoon abdul hamid bey (who had brought a strong letter of recommendation from gordon to lord wolseley) deserted, as well as some of the "reises" (pilots) and four soldiers. as soon as wilson was aware of this, he placed the remaining reises, who were all dongolawis, and friendly to the mahdi, under a guard of the sussex, with orders that they were to be shot if they attempted to escape. on the rd, wilson ordered all the troops to be confined to the zeriba, and, in the event of the non-arrival of the steamer, made arrangements to seize fiki-mustapha, who was again to visit the island, and keep him as hostage. to return to stuart-wortley: he left the island at . p.m. in a small rowing-boat with four english soldiers and eight natives, and floated past the enemy's works, who did not see him until opposite their last bonfire, when they fired several shots without effect. he then ordered the men to row hard, and reached the camp at gubat at a.m. on the st february without any further opposition. the news he brought placed the force at gubat in a state of consternation. the first necessity was, of course, to get wilson's party off the island. it was decided that lord charles beresford should start early in the afternoon in one of the remaining steamers. it was also resolved to send off a convoy across the desert to bring up reinforcements in view of a probable advance of the mahdi with the force which the capture of khartoum had set free.[ ] stuart-wortley left gubat at p.m. on board the _safiyeh_, with lord charles beresford in command; a portion of the naval brigade, under lieutenant van koughnet; twenty non-commissioned officers and privates of the mounted infantry, under lieutenant bower, king's royal rifles; two gardner guns; and two -pounder brass mountain-guns. on the nd a few shots were fired from the west bank. the vessel stopped for the night just past gebel-fangur. on the rd she started at . a.m. at a.m. she came in sight of the enemy's works at wad-habeshi, where the arabs could be seen running into the rifle-trench; fire was opened with the bow gun at about , yards range. on nearing the position, the enemy opened a heavy rifle-fire, and a gun, in an embrasure facing down the river, also opened fire. the steamer replied with the gardners and rifles, and also with a -pounder. when opposite the central embrasure, the enemy moved their gun and fired, their shot passing over the steamer. the latter's fire was so rapid and well-directed that the enemy were shy of putting their heads over the parapet to take aim. having passed the embrasure facing up the river, where the enemy had their second gun, a round shot passed through the vessel's boiler and caused the steam to escape in a huge volume. she proceeded about yards further, while the steam lasted, and then dropped anchor at yards from the enemy's position. van koughnet was shot through the thigh when serving the gardner, one bluejacket was mortally wounded, and two more were severely scalded. the gardners had to be moved abaft the battery, and a hole made in it to allow the gun and the gardners to play upon the enemy's works. the boiler was found to be repairable. firing continued very brisk until . a.m., when the enemy's fire was silenced. wilson's party heard the _safiyeh_ coming into action with the enemy's battery at wad-habeshi; but shortly afterwards trafford, who was on the "look-out" at the end of the island, reported that he had seen the steamer enveloped in smoke, and feared she had met with a serious accident. as the steamer continued to fire on the battery, and could be seen swinging at anchor, it was determined to break up the zeriba at once and march down to her. as soon as the order was given a scene of wild confusion arose, as it was impossible to keep the soudanese soldiers under control, and the enemy opened a heavy rifle-fire when they noticed the movement. eventually the guns, ammunition, stores, wounded, and women, were placed in a nugger, and the troops assembled on the island. gascoigne, with a small guard of the sussex, was put in charge of the nugger with instructions to stop at the nearest point he could reach on the right bank. wilson then marched the rest of the british and soudanese troops to the end of the island, whence they crossed to the right bank in a small boat. the crossing was covered by the detachment of the sussex. on reaching the nugger gascoigne proceeded down the river until he reached the right bank opposite the _safiyeh_, whilst wilson marched to the same place. finding it difficult to communicate with beresford by signal, he sent gascoigne, who volunteered for the service, in a small boat to the _safiyeh_ with the two naval artificers, and a native crew; the boat was received with a sharp rifle-fire from the enemy going and returning, but fortunately no one was hit. in the meantime, wilson had got one of the guns out of the nugger and brought it into action against the centre embrasure of the battery; whilst three marksmen of the sussex made good practice at , yards range, and the remainder of the sussex and the soudanese were drawn up behind a sakhea channel. lord charles beresford having sent a message to say that his boiler, which had been pierced by a shot, would be ready by the evening, and that he would pick the party up at a more convenient place about three miles lower down next morning, wilson directed trafford to proceed down the river with the sussex and a portion of the soudanese under khasm-el-mus to form a zeriba at the selected point. wilson remained behind to cover the passage of the nugger with the gun and a detachment of soudanese, but she unfortunately ran on a sandbank, and did not get off before sunset. in dragging the gun down through the tangled vegetation after dark, the men, who had had no food, became exhausted, and it was found necessary to abandon the gun, which was spiked and thrown into the river. after sunset gascoigne endeavoured to run past the battery in the nugger, but she again grounded on two rocks opposite to and about yards from the centre embrasure. here she remained all night and until about a.m. next morning, under fire from the battery and rifle-pits, but by most extraordinary good fortune no one was wounded. on the th beresford, having got up steam, ran past the battery, which now reopened on him, and brought to a short distance below; he then sent a party of bluejackets under lieutenant keppel, in a boat, to gascoigne's assistance. for more than an hour the work of lightening the nugger had to be carried on under fire, and nothing could exceed the coolness and gallantry shown by gascoigne and by keppel, who was struck by a spent ball during this trying time. when the nugger was clear of the rocks beresford proceeded down stream, and embarked the soldiers and crews of the steamers by a.m. the camp at gubat was reached at . p.m. though the members of wilson's expedition were repeatedly under fire, their losses were only two soudanese killed and twenty-five wounded. this was due to the excellent manner in which the steamers were protected, as well as to the enemy's bad shooting. the casualties on board beresford's steamer have been already mentioned, and they also were comparatively small for the same reason. it only remains to add that there are probably few more gallant achievements recorded than the successful rescue effected by lord charles beresford in the face of difficulties.[ ] chapter xliv. the fall of khartoum. gordon's diaries bring the history of the siege of khartoum down to the th december, . the relative positions of the besiegers and besieged at that date may be seen from the accompanying plan. it will be observed that khartoum was protected on the north and west sides by the blue and white niles respectively, and on the south and east by a line of intrenched fortifications, with intervening redoubts, running from fort buri, on the blue nile, almost to the white nile. unfortunately, at this time, the late high nile had washed away portions of the parapet for a considerable distance from the western end, and, now that the river had fallen, there was a serious gap in this part of the defences. to remedy this, gordon had for some time employed working parties to repair the demolished parapets, but as the work had to be conducted under fire from the enemy's troops at omdurman, on the opposite bank, but little progress had been made. the ditch at this point was also more or less damaged by the action of the river, and was never completely restored. to guard this, the weak part of the position, gordon stationed armed barges and native boats on the river close by. he also placed mines there, but these were destroyed by the nile. in the rear of the line of ramparts, and between them and the town, extended an open plain, a little more than a mile in breadth, on which stood barracks and slaughter-houses, and here and there an arab cemetery. on the south and east sides, fronting the fortifications, were the camps of the besieging armies of wad en nejumi and abu girgeh.[ ] [illustration] the army under the immediate command of the mahdi was encamped on the west of omdurman, where mohamed faragallah bey, with some egyptian soldiers, was still holding out, in a work called fort omdurman. a large force of dervishes,[ ] under sheikh-el-obeid, occupied a position at khojali, on the north side of the blue nile, where gordon also had a fort called "the north fort," at a point named "ras-el-rasek," as well as a battery on tuti island, nearly opposite. on the th december gordon wrote, "in ten days the town may fall." there were then in store , okes (or , lbs.) of biscuit, and ardebs (or , bushels) of dhoora (indian corn), representing approximately eighteen days' rations for the troops alone. but gordon had already, on the nd november, found it necessary to issue , lbs. of biscuit to the poor in the town, so great was the destitution which prevailed. as the siege progressed this state of things became more and more aggravated, and the government supplies had to be further drawn on for the benefit of the civil population. ever since the rd of november the fort of omdurman had been cut off from communication with khartoum. it was then provisioned only for a month and a half, and at the end of the year the garrison was in great straits from want of food. gordon made one or two efforts to relieve the garrison, but, having no longer his steamers, four of which had gone to meet the british expedition, and the fifth having been lost with colonel stewart, he was unable to open communication. on the th january, , faragallah signalled that his provisions and ammunition were alike exhausted, and gordon was compelled to reply that there was nothing for it but to surrender. faragallah and the whole of the force at fort omdurman then capitulated, and were transferred to the mahdi's camp, where they were well treated, as an encouragement to others to join the dervish ranks. on the th january, seeing that the garrison of khartoum was becoming daily more and more reduced by want of food, and that existence for many of the inhabitants was almost impossible, gordon issued a proclamation authorizing as many of the civil population as liked to leave the town and go over to the mahdi. some thousands of natives took advantage of the offer, and gordon sent with them a letter to the mahdi, asking him "to feed and protect these poor moslem people as he (gordon) had done for the last nine months." after the fugitives had left, it was estimated that only about , remained in the town, out of a population shown by the census taken in the september previous as , . the fall of omdurman was a great blow to the garrison of khartoum, who thus lost the only position they had on the west bank of the white nile. the dervishes were thenceforth able to close the river to gordon's two remaining steamers, and to establish ferries south of khartoum, giving easy communication between the camps at omdurman and those of wad en nejumi and abu girgeh. khartoum was practically hemmed in on three sides. the food difficulty became daily more serious. to make matters worse, those in charge of the biscuit and dhoora stole quantities of both, as occasion offered. the officer in charge of the stores was arrested and brought before a court of inquiry, but gordon, realizing the emergency of the situation, had to point out to those conducting the investigation the necessity of not inquiring too critically into the matter. the island of tuti was still held by gordon's forces, and the crops there were reaped under the fire of the forts, and stored in the commissariat. this produced about , bushels of corn altogether, which, with the remaining biscuits, were served out to the soldiers. when this was finished, gordon ordered a search to be made in the town, with the result that further quantities ( bushels only) were discovered in some of the houses, and also buried in the ground. these also were taken to the government store, the owners being given, in every case, receipts for the quantities carried off. the search was conducted daily until there was nothing left in possession of the inhabitants. soon all that had been collected in the commissariat was finished, and then the soldiers and inhabitants were reduced to eating dogs, donkeys, skins of animals, gum, and palm-fibre. then an actual famine prevailed. the gum produced diarrhoea, and the soldiers became so weak that they could scarcely man the fortifications.[ ] the situation of the civil inhabitants was even worse. many died of actual starvation, and corpses lay about the streets, no one having sufficient strength or energy to bury them. all this time the enemy kept up a fusillade on the garrison, occasionally killing a few of their number. the soldiers were also harassed by repeated night attacks.[ ] although it must have been evident to gordon that the end could not be far off, he continued to encourage the people by proclamations announcing the near approach of the british relief expedition, and even went so far as to hire some of the principal houses on the river for the reception of the men belonging to it. day by day he watched from the roof of his palace, in the hope of seeing them arrive. after awhile many of the inhabitants began to lose faith in him, and commenced opening communications with the mahdi. on the th january, the news of the battle of abu klea reached the mahdi's camp, where it caused the greatest consternation. a council of emirs was thereupon held, at which there were great divergencies of opinion. the mahdi himself was strongly in favour of raising the siege. he told the emirs that he had been warned in a vision that he was to make a "hegira," or flight, to obeid, whither he proposed to withdraw with his forces. he said, "if one englishman had been able to keep us at bay for a year, what chance shall we have against thousands of englishmen who have defeated our best men at abu klea?" all agreed except one emir, named mohammed abd el kerim, who said that an attempt should be made to take khartoum by assault, adding, rightly enough, that if it succeeded the english would not dare to come on, and that, if it failed, there would always be time to retreat. abd el kerim's views, for the time being, prevailed, and there was no longer any talk of raising the siege. before the meeting terminated it was decided to announce a great victory. accordingly a salute of guns was fired, the war drums were beaten, and every demonstration was made, as if in celebration of some great triumph. the stratagem failed to impose on gordon, who had seen, through his glass, thousands of women in the camp, weeping and indulging in signs of despair. the actual news of the battle was conveyed to him shortly after by a female spy from omdurman. a council, composed of farag pasha, the military commandant, the chief government officials, the greek consul, and other leading members of the greek colony, was hurriedly summoned to the palace. the meeting was then informed of the victory at abu klea, and that the english were approaching, and would arrive in two or three days. this intelligence inspired everybody with fresh hope, only, however, to give place to deeper despair when the next few days passed away without any signs of the relieving force. gordon still struggled to keep up the spirits of his men, constantly saying, "they must come to-morrow," though few believed in him, and people began to say that, after all, the great battle which had taken place must have been a dervish victory. it is said that gordon at this time took no sleep, but spent his days in watching the river from the roof of the palace, and his nights in visiting the various posts. on the rd, he had a stormy interview with farag pasha, whom he reproached with having left one of the forts insufficiently guarded. it seems that farag, on this occasion, proposed to surrender khartoum to the mahdi, and stated the terms which the latter was willing to accept. gordon indignantly refused to listen to the proposition, and is even said to have struck farag. there is no doubt that, at this period, not only farag, but many of the other officers and government officials, as well as some of the leading merchants, were in correspondence with the mahdi, who was also kept posted up in the condition of the garrison by the deserters who, from time to time, left khartoum. on one night alone, omar agha ibrahim, a lieutenant of infantry, after taking the precaution of drawing half a month's pay for himself and his men, went over to the enemy with thirty of his comrades. by the way of final preparations, gordon had all the ammunition and powder not required for daily use removed from the arsenal and placed in the catholic church, a strong stone building near the palace, and commenced to lay a slow match train between the two buildings, so as to enable him to explode the whole supply, in the event of the mahdists entering the town.[ ] to provide for the safety of the europeans, he stationed the small steamer _ismailia_ just beyond the palace walls, with orders to the engineer to get up steam on a signal being made. the arrangement was kept secret, being communicated only to the principal greek residents, who, it was proposed, should go on board with their families at the last moment and save themselves by the river.[ ] meantime the mahdi had full information of the movements of the british expeditionary force. the delay in the advance from metammeh inspired both him and his followers with fresh courage. it also gave support to mohammed el kerim's arguments, and when, on the th, intelligence was received that two steamers had started from metammeh, a council was held at which it was determined to act on his advice and make the attack before the vessels should arrive. this decision was, to some extent, influenced by the circumstance that the mahdi had opportunely had another vision, in which, this time, the prophet had assured him "that allah had put the lives of the garrison into the mahdi's hands, and that the attack should be made early on the morning of monday, the th." on the th gordon was slightly ill, and, it being sunday, he did not appear in public. through mental strain and trouble his hair had grown completely white. although he appeared to realize that the end could not be much longer postponed, he was repeatedly heard to say that, if he had only a couple of english soldiers to parade on the ramparts, he should not fear the enemy's attack. in the morning he observed a great movement in the hostile lines, and called many of his officers, and the leading men of the town, to the palace. after telling them that he thought the attack was impending, he appealed to them to make a last effort, as he believed that the british troops would arrive in twenty-four hours. he called upon every male inhabitant--even the old men--to assist in manning the fortifications. it was a gloomy sunday in khartoum, and as the day went by without any signs of the relieving force, despair settled down over all. when night came many of the famished soldiers left their posts on the ramparts and wandered into the town in search of food. others were too weak, from want of nourishment, to go to their stations. although this was not an unusual occurrence of late, the number of defaulters that night was so great as to cause the most serious alarm in the town, and many of the principal inhabitants armed themselves and their servants and went to the fortifications in place of the soldiers. gordon, who had established a complete system of telegraphic communication with all the posts along the lines, sat up alone writing in the palace till after midnight, and then, worn out with anxiety and fatigue, fell asleep. in the early part of the night, which, after the moon had set, was dark and cloudy, the mahdi crossed over from omdurman with a huge mass of his followers and joined the armies of wad en nejumi and abu girgeh, drawn up on the south and east faces of the fortifications. after addressing the combined forces and giving his final orders, the mahdi then returned to omdurman, leaving wad en nejumi to conduct the attack. at about a.m. on the th, the entire force, under wad en nejumi, numbering from , to , men, began its advance. it moved in two divisions. the foremost was told off to attack the lines to the westward at the point between the messalamieh gate and the white nile, where the defences had been partially destroyed by the river. the other division was to attack towards buri, at the opposite, or eastern, extremity of the lines, or in the event of the attack on the white nile side proving successful, to follow in the track of the foremost division and thus enter khartoum. the instructions were to march as silently as possible, and not to fire until fired upon by the defenders. carrying "angaribs," or couches of palm boughs, and bundles of brushwood, to throw into the trenches, under cover of the darkness the dervishes marched noiselessly close up to the lines till the ditch was reached. this they found partly filled with mud and the parapet broken away. a few of the dervishes fired in reply to the fire from the lines; the remainder, charging with spears, dashed into the trench and up the opposite side, shouted their war cries, and, meeting but little resistance, effected an entrance into the works. the defenders only perceived the advance a few minutes before the actual attack, when the alarm sounded. the greater part of the troops were so tired and worn out that it was not till the sentries fired that the rest of the garrison started up, to find the enemy swarming across the ditch and up the broken parapet. when once the dervishes were upon them, gordon's soldiers made but little fight. too feeble to withstand the rush, some were killed, and still more broke and fled. in a few minutes all resistance at this part of the position was over, and whilst a stream of dervishes from behind, pouring in through the place where the entry had been effected, pushed on and entered khartoum, those in front rushed along inside the parapets and attacked the defenders in the rear. these last, stationed at distances of from three to four paces apart, and hopelessly outnumbered, could do but little. they fired a few shots and were then either killed or dispersed--leaving the enemy in undisputed possession of the fortifications. over soldiers' bodies were afterwards counted on the parapets alone. the commandant, farag pasha, was at buri, at the further end of the fortifications, when the assault was made, and at once rode down the lines, encouraging his men. when he reached the messalamieh gate, the dervish horde had already crossed the ditch and were rolling up the line of the defenders on the parapets. farag, seeing that resistance was useless, opened the messalamieh gate and surrendered himself prisoner. a great many of his followers also rushed out through the gate and threw down their arms. charges of treachery have been brought against farag for his conduct on this occasion, but, seeing that the enemy were well within the position when the gate was opened, this act could not have affected the issue one way or another. farag's having been put to death in the enemy's camp three days later also tends to rebut the accusation of having betrayed his trust. mohamed bey ibrahim, who commanded at the same gate, formed his men, consisting of two companies, into a square, and, taking up a position on the plain between the lines and the town, fought courageously till he and nearly all his men were killed. bakhit betraki was in charge at buri, and held his ground till, seeing that the enemy had carried the works at the other end, and were inside the lines, he abandoned the fortifications. then, rallying his men, he fought as long as any of them were left alive. notwithstanding the resistance offered in this and other instances, the dervish loss was but trifling, only from to being killed in the whole operations, which, from the time the first gun was fired till khartoum was taken, are said to have lasted three hours.[ ] the soldiers who had been placed on board the barges and armed boats on the white nile, as already stated, made but very slight resistance. they did a little firing at the moment of the first assault, after which they forsook the boats and fled. the garrisons at tuti island and at "the north fort" were, from the nature of their positions, unable to take any active part in the fight; they fired occasionally from their guns, but when khartoum fell they all surrendered without further opposition. the party of dervishes who, when the first attack succeeded, pushed on to khartoum, at once took possession of the town and began massacring, pillaging and looting everywhere. their first thought was to rush for the palace, where they expected to find the treasure, as well as gordon, the man who had so long and so successfully resisted them. gordon, who had with him a company of black troops as a guard, on being aroused by the noise of the attack, went on the roof of the palace, which stood on the northern side of the town facing the blue nile, and, finding that the enemy had entered the works for upwards of an hour, kept up a hot fire in the direction of the attack. as dawn approached he could see the dervish banners in the town. soon the gun which he had mounted on the roof became useless, as it could not be depressed sufficiently to fire down upon the dervishes, who were by this time crowding in thousands round the palace. gordon, seeing that resistance was useless, then quitted the roof, put on his pasha's white uniform, and, with his sword by his side and his revolver in hand, placed himself at the door of his divan just at the top of the grand staircase. here he stood and calmly awaited his fate. a small band of wad en nejumi's followers forced their way into the building and dashed up the steps. gordon asked them who was their leader. the only reply that he got was a curse, and one of the band plunged his spear into gordon's body. gordon made no attempt to defend himself, but turned away with a disdainful gesture, when he was again stabbed from behind and fell forward on the ground. others of the party then rushed up and cut and hacked at the prostrate body until life was extinct. this was shortly before sunrise--whilst hundreds of dervishes swarmed up to the palace roof and slaughtered the soldiers there. gordon's body was dragged down the steps to the garden, where the head was cut off, wrapped in a handkerchief, and taken to the mahdi. the mahdi is said to have been very angry at gordon's death. his idea had been to convert him to mahdism, and afterwards to hand him over to the government in exchange for arabi pasha. gordon's head, after being shown to slatin pasha, then a captive in the camp, was hung on a tree at omdurman, where multitudes of the mahdi's followers cursed and insulted it. his body was left in the garden the whole day, and thousands of the dervishes came up and plunged their spears into it. later on it was thrown, with many others, into one of the wells adjoining.[ ] the steamer which gordon had placed near the palace was of no assistance at the critical moment. the captain saw the mob rushing to surround the building, and waited for gordon to arrive. later on, probably at the moment when gordon met his end, a crowd of dervishes made for the vessel, which, to escape being captured, steamed out into mid stream and moved backwards and forwards until the captain received a message from the mahdi, offering him pardon if he would give up the steamer, which was thereupon surrendered. after the palace had been taken the catholic mission building and church were the next objects on which the mob directed themselves. the guards in the grounds outside were at once killed, and the assailants then broke into the building, killing and looting everywhere. the massacre in the town lasted six hours, and , persons at least were killed. the black troops were spared, except such as resisted. the bashi-bazouks, fellaheen regulars, and the shaggiah irregulars were mostly killed in cold blood after they had surrendered and been disarmed. large numbers of the townspeople and slaves were either killed or wounded. at a.m. the mahdi sent orders to stop the massacre, which then ceased, and the dervishes devoted themselves exclusively to looting. the mahdi had promised his followers as much gold and silver as they could carry when khartoum fell, and immense disappointment was expressed when they failed to find the expected treasure, for which gordon's bank notes formed but a poor substitute.[ ] the bloodshed and cruelty which attended the massacre are said to be such as defy description. nicola leontides, the greek consul, had his hands first cut off and was then murdered. martin hansel, the austrian consul, and the oldest member of the european colony, was alive up to p.m., when a party of arabs, headed by his own janissary, entered his house and beheaded him, together with a man named mulatte skander, who lived with him. the two bodies were then taken outside, covered with petroleum and set fire to. the austrian tailor, klein, on making the sign of the cross, had his throat cut from ear to ear before the eyes of his wife and children. the savages then buried their lances in the body of his son, aged seventeen, who fell lifeless. the mother, a venetian by birth, seized her son of five years old with one hand, and, holding her baby to her breast with the other, struggled heroically to prevent their taking her children from her. eventually they seized her daughter, a girl of eighteen, who was carried off to add to the other booty taken. numbers of women, and even children, perished in the general slaughter. of the survivors, all the young and good looking women and girls were taken off to the "beit el mal," the mahdi's treasury, where the loot was ordered to be collected. there they lay exposed like cattle in a pen, awaiting their turn to be selected to fill the harems of the conquerors. the first choice lay with the mahdi himself, then followed the various emirs, each in order of his rank. the women who were not chosen were distributed among the soldiers. the old women were given a few rags with which to cover themselves, and then sent to the dervish camp to eke out a miserable existence by begging. the number of europeans made prisoners is stated to have been about ninety altogether, besides several thousands of natives. most of these were removed to omdurman, where they were left to get on as best they could, and exposed to many privations. only two days later, on the th, whilst the mahdi's army was still engaged in celebrating the victory, wilson's two steamers were observed slowly making their way up stream in the direction of the north end of tuti island, firing as they advanced both from guns and rifles. it was at once decided to oppose the landing of the red-coated soldiers who could be seen on board. all rushed to the river's bank, the women shouting "môt lil inglesi" ("death to the english"). after reaching a point mid-way between tuti island and the left bank of the white nile, and apparently looking for indications as to the fate of khartoum and gordon, the steamers were seen to turn round and proceed down the river under a hail of bullets from the shore. the news of the fall of khartoum, after a siege of days, or only nine days less than that of sebastopol, reached the war office in london at a quarter of an hour before midnight on the th february. it was communicated by a despatch from lord wolseley, sent from korti, at . p.m. on the same day. the war office officials, many of whom were summoned on the receipt of the despatch, hesitated to believe the news it contained, until it should be confirmed by later intelligence, and the representatives of the press association were informed that nothing would be published till the following day. on the th the despatch appeared in the second edition of several of the morning papers, and england realized to the fullest extent the bitterness of a great national disappointment. all the gallantry and devotion of her officers and men had been unavailing; the costly nile expedition had proved a dismal failure; and gordon had been allowed to perish. the general feeling on the subject was intensified by the reflection that but two days elapsed between the fall of khartoum and the arrival of the british troops before the town. the government of mr. gladstone was severely reproached with having been once more "too late." as to the part taken by sir charles wilson, there was a strong tendency to censure the delay which had occurred in the departure of the steamers for khartoum. sir charles, in a letter to lord wolseley, gave full explanations on this subject. he based his reasons for not starting sooner on the following considerations:-- st. the military situation. the force had been much weakened by its losses in the fighting on the th and th january, and would be further reduced by the convoy and escort which it was necessary to send back to gakdul. the horses and camels were so "done up" from fatigue and want of food, as to be unable to reconnoitre any distance. reinforcements for the enemy were reported as advancing both from omdurman and berber, and it was necessary for him, before leaving, to ascertain that the small british force at gubat was not liable to attack. ndly. the necessity of changing the men in the steamers (in accordance with gordon's advice) and replacing them by soudanese. rdly. the steamers' engines required to be overhauled, and the vessels themselves had to be prepared for resisting the batteries which it was known they would have to fight on their way to khartoum. thly. gordon was known to be still holding out, and there was nothing to show that the expected crisis, so long delayed, would take place in the next few days. as a fact, the steamers from khartoum reached gubat on the st january, whilst the british were engaged with the enemy at metammeh; and wilson received the letters which general gordon had sent down between three and four p.m. on that day. the earliest possible date for starting would, therefore, be on the morning of the nd, and sir charles pointed out that, if the steamers had left at that time and travelled at the same rate as they subsequently did, they would then only have reached khartoum at mid-day on the th, when it had already fallen. sir charles might, without exaggeration, have enlarged on the condition of his forces, which were so utterly used up--both men and animals--that a short interval of comparative repose was indispensable before anything further was attempted. that in spite of their condition they should have been able to undertake the abortive attack on metammeh on the st, speaks volumes for their pluck and endurance. even if wilson had disregarded all other considerations and pushed on at once with his handful of soldiers, there is every reason to suppose that the result would have been the same. from what has subsequently been ascertained, it is clear that for weeks previously the mahdi had khartoum at his mercy, and could have taken it at any moment, though he preferred that it should fall by the slower process of starvation. he had full information of wilson's movements, and had the latter started two days earlier, the only result would have been that the capture of the town would have been accelerated by precisely that period of time. it would be too much to imagine that if the subaltern's guard which wilson had at his disposal had reached khartoum whilst it still held out, it could (notwithstanding gordon's expectations to the contrary) have changed the fortunes of the day, or have induced the mahdi to carry out his idea of raising the siege and retiring to obeid. for this, the presence, or at least the advance, of the whole force at gubat was necessary. as it happened, the column at gubat was not in a condition to advance, and the mahdi, knowing that at the worst he had only the two steamers to reckon with, determined to risk an assault. the responsibility for the disaster may be traced partly to the insufficient supply of camels to the desert column, owing to which stewart, instead of pushing on at first straight across the bayuda desert, was compelled to return from gakdul wells to korti, and then make a fresh start, thus losing twelve days' valuable time. but after all, the main responsibility will always rest with the government which so long delayed despatching the relief expedition, and then, as if to make its failure the more certain, sent it by the wrong route. chapter xlv. the retreat from gubat. the result of the taking of khartoum was naturally to increase the renown of the mahdi to a greater extent than ever in the moslem world. his fame as a conqueror spread not only throughout the soudan, but also in the towns and villages of upper and lower egypt. many of those who before had disbelieved in him, now became fully assured of his holy mission. had he at once followed up his success by an advance down the nile, the consequences to the british forces at gubat and elsewhere might have been disastrous. as it was, he contented himself with staying with his followers in the neighbourhood of khartoum, the pillaging of which no doubt afforded an agreeable relaxation after a long and arduous siege. with khartoum in the mahdi's power, the whole situation was changed. his army instead of being concentrated before khartoum, was set free to strike a blow at any point which he might think opportune for attack. not merely was the small force at gubat in danger, but wolseley's entire army was at this period divided and split up in fragments. one of these was at gubat, in immediate proximity to the fortified town of metammeh held by a superior force. another was isolated near kirbekan, where the enemy were reported to be in considerable strength; whilst a third remained with wolseley at the head-quarters at korti. in addition detachments were scattered across the bayuda desert at the different points of communication. though at first the capture of metammeh and operations against berber were contemplated, the question of the relief of khartoum gradually resolved itself into the problem of extricating "the relief expedition" itself. opinions differed greatly how this was to be effected. some were in favour of the immediate retreat of the desert column to korti. others considered a march across the desert of so small a force, with the prospect of encountering hordes of mahdists from khartoum, anything but a safe operation. other advisers were in favour of concentrating the whole of the expeditionary force on the capture of berber and holding that place until the arrival of reinforcements from india or from home landed at souakim, should either insure the safe retreat of the force, or allow of the recapture of khartoum. that which was done will appear later. during the absence of sir charles wilson, the british force in the neighbourhood of gubat, under colonel boscawen, was employed in improving and strengthening the works there. a triangular fort was erected, and earthworks with flanking trenches and parapets were thrown up both on the land side and towards metammeh. brushwood and wire entanglements were placed outside to impede the enemy in the event of their attempting to storm the position, and, in fact, every preparation was made to stand a siege. although an attack was constantly expected, the enemy, beyond beating tom-toms all night and making a parade every day, did nothing. the force from time to time sent convoys of sick and wounded back across the desert to abu klea and korti. to facilitate and guard the line of communications, the garrisons at the wells were strengthened from time to time by detachments from korti. the whole country round metammeh, except the village itself, where , to , of the enemy were quartered, remained quiet. at metammeh, on the th january, there was a great firing of guns, with other signs of rejoicing over the news from khartoum. on intelligence of general stewart's condition reaching head-quarters, sir redvers buller was appointed to succeed to the command of the desert column, sir evelyn wood becoming lord wolseley's chief of the staff, and brigadier-general grenfell succeeding sir evelyn wood as "sirdar" (commander-in-chief) of the egyptian army. buller left korti on the th january for gakdul by the desert route. the royal irish and west kent regiments left at the same time to strengthen the garrisons at the wells and reinforce gubat. on the th february, buller, with six companies of the royal irish regiment, which had marched on foot the whole way from korti, reached gubat. his instructions were to seize metammeh and march on berber, but on no account to let himself be hemmed in at metammeh. the programme was suddenly altered, and in lieu thereof a retreat was decided on. one reason for this change was the loss likely to be incurred in the taking of metammeh, another consideration was the insufficiency of buller's column to operate against berber in the face of the large force, which, set free by the fall of khartoum, the mahdi would now have at his disposal. buller deemed it unwise even to attempt to hold the position at gubat against the mahdi's army reinforced by gordon's captured soldiers, and supplied with the arms and ammunition taken at khartoum. reports of the mahdi having commenced an advance with , men were received, and it was judged best to retire, and so avoid the risk of having the retreat cut off. under these circumstances preparations were made for the march back across the bayuda desert.[ ] before leaving, gordon's two remaining steamers were rendered useless by removal of parts of the machinery. on the th buller evacuated gubat. his force numbered nearly , rank and file, and consisted of the following corps:--squadron of th hussars, naval brigade with two gardner guns, detachment of royal artillery with two guns, a portion of the mounted infantry, a portion of the guards camel corps, a wing of the heavy cavalry camel corps, portions of the sussex and royal irish regiments, details from departmental corps, and soudanese. the wounded were the first sent off, the escort of men being placed under the command of colonel talbot. the bad cases were carried in litters by the egyptians. sir herbert stewart, by this time much changed for the worse, was among the sick. on the march to abu klea, buller met with no opposition beyond a skirmish which the advance guard had on the day of starting. on the th the column arrived at abu klea, and at once set to work to strengthen the position against attack. about thirty of the enemy's cavalry were seen scouting round the place all day. about an hour before sunset these were reinforced by some infantry armed with rifles. they crossed the hills to the north-east and eastward, and having made a cover by throwing up a series of low stone walls, opened a well-directed fire at long range on the camp. the bullets fell all round and over the position. no lights or fires were allowed after dark, as the enemy kept up a dropping fire throughout the night. the british force made no reply. up to the morning of the th, two men had been killed, and four officers and ten men wounded. on the th the guns of the royal artillery opened fire on the enemy's position with shrapnel. the gardners were also turned on, but as the supply of ammunition was limited the fire had to be restricted. still, slow as was the fire, it sufficed to check that of the enemy until eight a.m., when the cover they had been throwing up being completed, their fire became as heavy as before. fortunately, the aim was somewhat interfered with by the high wind blowing, and by clouds of sand. still, as buller in his despatch to lord wolseley observed, to remain stationary subject to this unceasing pelting by bullets "was annoying." the fire of the enemy did not interfere with the work of strengthening the camp. three new forts mutually supporting one another were constructed. buller placed the command of the principal and largest of them in the hands of lord charles beresford, with his naval men and guns. the royal irish were ordered to hold the fort on the west of the camp, while the sussex men garrisoned the fort on the east. the engineers guarded the zeriba itself, in which the hospital was erected. about noon a steady shelling of the enemy's position was commenced. the gardner guns were at the same time again brought into use, and the mounted infantry also opened fire with their martinis. after about two hours of this long range fighting, the enemy's fire showed signs of slackening. major wardrop was then sent out to reconnoitre, and endeavoured to ascertain the actual strength and position of the enemy, up to this time unknown. with one officer and three troopers the major crept round the enemy's right, under cover of some rising ground. ascending a slight rise, he looked cautiously over, and observed that the enemy's riflemen on the hill were not numerous, and had no supports. he dismounted his men, and made them, without showing more than their heads, fire a volley. he then remounted and galloped off and repeated his tactics two or three times in different places, leaving one man in each place to fire as rapidly as possible, but without exposing himself to view. the arabs were completely deceived by this manoeuvre, and imagining that large reinforcements of british troops had come up, became demoralized, broke off the fight, and retreated towards metammeh, carrying with them their killed and wounded, and leaving only a few mounted scouts to watch the camp. buller's loss in this skirmish amounted to three men killed, and four officers and twenty-three men wounded. the enemy's losses were more severe. they were seen to carry off several bodies, and they left six on the field of battle. owing to the nature of the ground it was impossible to form an estimate as to the strength of the enemy. equally difficult was it to understand what their object was, but the better opinion seems to be that it was intended to try and engage buller until the mahdi should come up with his whole army. buller then sent off a detachment of the light camel corps, with despatches for gakdul, requesting that more transport camels with ammunition might be sent to him. his reasons for thus weakening his forces were twofold. in the first place, the water supply at abu klea was not sufficient for the whole force for many days. in the second, his means of transport were insufficient for the requirements of the marching column, in addition to those of the garrison at the wells. the night of the th was passed quietly at the camp. on the morning of the th buller detached a party of infantry which moved southwards towards the hills which had been occupied by the enemy. their position was found to be completely abandoned, and was taken possession of by the british force. a strong post was established on the principal hill, and scouting-parties were sent out, but nothing more could be seen of the enemy. sir evelyn wood, with three companies of the west kent regiment, was despatched from korti to strengthen the force at gakdul wells, which they reached on the th, and from gakdul a supply of transport camels with stores was sent on to buller at abu klea. during the march of the convoy from gakdul nothing had been seen of the enemy until the neighbourhood of abu klea was reached, when suddenly a small body of armed men was observed watching the movements of the party. some of the camel corps forthwith went in chase, and captured a half-dozen. these made no attempt to resist capture, but threw down their remingtons, and begged for mercy. when interrogated the prisoners declared that there was no strong force of rebels anywhere near. there was, they said, a rebel camp on rising ground some two miles distant, but there were only fighting men there, all of whom had recently come from metammeh. the prisoners agreed in stating that none of the mahdi's forces from khartoum had yet reached metammeh. on the arrival of the camels and stores, buller made his preparations for evacuating abu klea. his original intentions were merely to destroy the forts, and leave the wells untouched. but on the forenoon of the rd, he got information to the effect that the enemy had received a strong reinforcement, estimated at not less than , men. this compelled him to modify his plans, and he resolved to leave the forts standing, but to fill up all the larger wells. the latter step was afterwards much criticized, and can only be justified by the extreme peril in which buller's force might otherwise have been placed. to stop up a desert well is to the oriental mind about the blackest crime that could be committed; and is a measure which is never adopted even in savage warfare. buller, however, had no alternative. the absence of water in his rear was the sole thing that could check pursuit by the supposed force in his rear. it was, in short, the only method of covering his retreat. accordingly, regardless of eastern traditions, heaps of stones and rubbish were piled into all the principal wells before leaving. it was foreseen that before the enemy could advance he must lose several hours, and perhaps days, in restoring the wells to their former state. this time buller calculated on employing in getting a start over his pursuers. at two p.m. all the baggage was sent on under convoy to camp on the omit handel plain out of gunshot range of the abu klea hills. at six the outposts were withdrawn, and an hour later the whole force, including thirty-two sick and wounded, was in retreat towards gakdul. as they marched out, the troops were not interfered with by the enemy. the enemy's scouts appeared about midday on the th, and fired a few shots. after this they retired, and the column was no more molested, reaching gakdul on the th. there being barely sufficient camels for the supplies, all the men and officers had to march on foot. this, as buller observed in his despatch, in the weather which prevailed, with an allowance of only three quarts of water per man a-day, was most exhausting. he adds, "nothing could have been better than the spirit shown by all ranks." at gakdul buller's force learned the news of the death on the th of their former leader, general stewart, who, with the other wounded, had been sent on in advance. the latest accounts of his condition had been such as to lead to hope of his recovery. it subsequently transpired that the nature of the wound he had received rendered this impossible, and after supporting the hardships of the desert march he finally succumbed the day before the convoy reached the wells of gakdul, where a small force was left to bring on the stores.[ ] the column remained but a brief period at gakdul, and on the th set out for korti, which was reached on the st march, the last of the troops arriving on the th. of the march of stewart's column across the bayuda desert to metammeh and back, it is unnecessary to say anything more. the highest military authority in europe, count von moltke, said of the men who took part in it, "they were not soldiers but heroes." chapter xlvi. the nile column. the advance guard of the nile column, consisting of of the th south staffordshire regiment, left korti for abu hamid in the whalers on the th december, . brigadier-general brackenbury, second in command, with a troop of the th hussars, followed the next day. on the rd january, , the force encamped at hamdab, where general earle and his staff arrived on the th. the remainder of the column was sent forward from time to time, as the regiments reached korti. on the th the force at hamdab, having been in the meantime joined by the royal highlanders (black watch), a portion of the gordon highlanders, the duke of cornwall's regiment, the transport camels and the camel battery, left camp and continued the journey up stream, the mounted troops proceeding along the banks, and the remainder going in the whalers as before. the enemy being reported to be in force at berti, every precaution was taken to avoid a surprise, zeribas being formed each night, and a system of moonlight signalling was adopted. passing the fourth cataract and other formidable rapids, berti was reached by the advance guard on the st february and found deserted. the enemy, according to the report of a deserter, had abandoned the place on the previous day, and retired up the river to salamat. suleiman wad gamr, the murderer of colonel stewart's party, it was reported, had fled beyond recall. the boat belonging to stewart's steamer _abbas_ was discovered on the shore. hussein ismael, the stoker, whose account of the murder has been already given, presented himself and confirmed his previous story. the houses in berti being searched, traces of stewart's party were found in the shape of a number of papers, fragments of books, and a portion of a barometer. on the rd the head-quarters moved to berti, where the rest of the troops encamped as they came up. on the th news was received of the fall of khartoum by a telegram from sir evelyn wood. the discouraging information was carefully kept from the knowledge of the men. the same message instructed general earle to halt where he was until further orders. on the th the general was informed by telegraph that lord wolseley was communicating with the government as to future operations, but that the column was to push on to abu hamid. orders for the troops to move up were thereupon issued. on the night of the th general earle received a report from colonel butler, who was in command of the advanced camp, that, in reconnoitring that day, he had found the enemy in a strong position, occupying some rocky knolls, and holding a high razor-backed ridge of hills behind. earle then ordered the advance of the st battalion south staffordshire and st battalion royal highlanders, in boats, to an open camping-ground which colonel butler had selected, about a mile short of the enemy's position, and ordered the squadron th hussars, half of the egyptian camel corps, and two guns of the egyptian artillery, to advance to the same place. on the th general earle himself arrived on the scene, and having personally reconnoitred the enemy's position, and sent colonel butler with the cavalry to make a wide reconnaissance towards the enemy's rear, he decided to attack the position the next morning. a company of the royal highlanders was left in a zeriba to guard the boats, baggage, and baggage animals, and at a.m. on the th the advance commenced. two companies of the south staffordshire and two guns were placed under the command of lieutenant-colonel alleyne, who was instructed to take up a position on a rocky hillock facing the enemy's position, and, with the assistance of the egyptian camel corps, to occupy the attention of the defenders in front, whilst, with six companies of the south staffordshire and six companies of the royal highlanders, earle marched about a mile and a half to his right front, thus completely turning the high ridge referred to in butler's report, and the whole of the enemy's position. [illustration: battle of kirbekan.] meanwhile fire was opened (at . ) by the two companies of the staffordshire and the guns under colonel alleyne, the enemy replying with their remingtons. after turning the enemy's position, earle's column, pivoting on its left, brought the right of the column round till it reached the rear of the enemy's lines, and then marched over broken and rocky ground through a valley in the direction of the river, keeping the high ridge on the left. it was found that the column formation, ready to form square, was unsuited to the nature of the ground, and the further advance was made by companies, but not in extended order, points of vantage in the rocky ground being occupied in succession. the enemy had been seen crowding the high ridge as the column passed its eastern end, but at first they appeared to take no notice. no sooner, however, had the force wheeled to the left than (at . ) fire was opened on it with remingtons, hitting two or three men. as the fire became hotter earle sent two companies of the south staffordshire, under colonel eyre, to take the high ridge by working up its western shoulder. the men advanced under a heavy fire, and climbed about a third of the way up the shoulder, till they reached a cluster of rocks under which they obtained partial shelter. at the same time, two companies of the highlanders and a company of the staffords were directed to advance under cover of the river bank and take the knoll nearest the river, towards which parties of the enemy were seen making their way, and swimming to the other side. this knoll was speedily captured, and the enemy's position on the two principal knolls was thus enfiladed. the remainder of the highlanders and staffords then advanced from one cluster of rocks to another towards the rear of the position, firing as they did so, till they reached the rocks nearest to the enemy's position, about yards distant. from behind the enemy's works, consisting of earthworks and loopholed buildings, a steady and well-directed fusillade was kept up on the attacking force. this continued for some time, till, difficulty being found in dislodging the enemy by musketry fire, the order was about to be given to assault the position and carry it at the point of the bayonet, when suddenly a body of the enemy abandoned their works, and with spears and banners charged down upon the nearest of the highlanders, who were somewhat advanced towards the british left front under colonel green. the highlanders, without changing their formation, received the assault with a withering fire, killing many. the rest turned to their left and made for the river, where several of them were shot in the water as they attempted to escape. after repelling this onslaught the highlanders advanced with their pipes skirling, scaled the rocks, and stormed the main position from front and flank in gallant style, killing every one of the enemy, who were in great numbers among the rocks and boulders. at this time general earle, who had accompanied the advance up the ridge, was killed by a bullet from a hut in which several of the defenders had taken refuge. meantime the two companies of the south staffordshire sent to take the high ridge had been received by a heavy fire; lieutenant-colonel eyre had been killed, and their ammunition was exhausted. lieutenant-colonel beale was sent by general brackenbury, who had assumed the command, to reinforce the attack and take the ridge, which duty was successfully accomplished, and the enemy were driven from their last position by . p.m. most of the defending force were armed with remington rifles, and their position, which was a formidable one, was defended with desperate courage. when general earle made his turning movement, and so placed the detachment he was leading between the enemy and their camp, colonel butler, who had guided the column to the rear of the enemy's position, made a wide sweeping detour with the cavalry to the enemy's camp, three miles further on, which he captured. so rapidly was this operation conducted that the camp was in his possession before the highlanders had captured the main position.[ ] leaving two companies of the highlanders to guard the captured position, the remainder of the troops were sent back to the camp they had left in the morning. the egyptian camel corps did excellent service in the fight. the position which they had taken up at the commencement of the day enabled them to protect the flank of the infantry in its advance. they remained in that position throughout the day, assisting by their rifles to keep down the fire from the high ridge and shooting, and in some instances pursuing and capturing, such of the enemy as attempted to escape towards the east on the southern slope of the hill. when the staffords stormed the shoulder of the hill one egyptian soldier charged up alone on their extreme right and joined in the attack. besides forty-one donkeys and camels captured at kirbekan, fifty-eight rifles, four fowling-pieces, two flint-lock muskets, one revolver, twenty-two swords, fifty-three spears, and ten standards fell into the hands of the english. some prisoners were taken, and, according to their statements, the enemy were surprised by general earle attacking their rear, and thought the soldiers who got behind their position were coming from berber. owing to the way in which the position was surrounded, it is difficult to see how many of the enemy could have escaped. they lay thick in every nook and crevice, and on the open ground where they charged the troops, and the staffordshires killed many on the main ridge of hills. nevertheless, their losses are only put in the general's report as . as no account mentions more than bodies having been counted on the field of battle, this appears a liberal estimate, even after allowing for the bodies swept away by the stream. the return of rifle ammunition expended gives a total of , rounds, or rather more than for each man killed, leaving out of the calculation twenty-three shells fired from the camel battery. the english force engaged only numbered , , owing to the gordon highlanders and the half battalion of the duke of cornwall's regiment not having come up; the former, in fact, had not succeeded in getting further than berti. the enemy's force at kirbekan was stated by prisoners as being from , to , . general brackenbury, however, has put the number who held the works at , and says that at least half of these escaped before the attack. the resistance made was due to the almost impregnable position taken up. owing to the excellent tactics adopted in taking the works in the rear, the loss of the attacking force was but small. the death of general earle, however, made kirbekan a dearly purchased victory. he met his death shortly after the assault which resulted in the capture of the ridges. the troops were at the time being collected and formed up. between the crests of the two main knolls there was a depression forming a small flat plateau, on which stood a stone hut with a thatched roof. earle was forming up the ranks only ten yards from the hut, when it was discovered that there were men in it. one of the latter fired from the hut and shot a soldier. the general thereupon ordered the roof to be set on fire, at the same time approaching the hut. the roof commenced to burn, and a native rushed out, and was at once bayoneted. at this moment a shot was fired from a window of the hut, and the general fell, shot through the head. the back of the skull was shattered, and he lived only a few minutes. in addition to general earle, the british and egyptian loss was as follows:-- _south staffordshire regiment_--killed, lieutenant-colonel eyre and men; wounded, officers and men. _royal highlanders_--killed, lieutenant-colonel coveney and men; wounded, officers and men; missing, man. _egyptian camel corps_--killed, men; wounded, man. total killed, ; wounded and missing, . on the th, general brackenbury received further instructions, according to which the expedition was to stay in the country till the mahdi's power at khartoum was destroyed, and arrangements were to be made for co-operation with general buller in an attack on berber. the instructions further stated that the column was to push on with all possible speed pursuant to orders. on the same day, the column continued its progress, the wounded officers and men being conveyed in the boats. the difficult pass of shukook was got through without opposition, though it bore signs of having been prepared for defence throughout its entire length of six miles. on the th salamat was occupied, and the force destroyed the house, palm-trees, and sakheas of suleiman wad gamr, the chief author of colonel stewart's murder. many relics of the murder were found, such as cards, papers, photographs, &c. on the th, hebbeh, close to the scene of the murder, was reached, and on that and the following day the horses and camels of the force swam over to the opposite bank, the equipments and loads being ferried across in boats. the wreck of stewart's steamer was seen fixed upon a rock about yards from the bank of the river. she was pitted with bullet-marks, and torn by fragments of shell. the natives had stripped her of everything useful. the house of fakri wad etman, where the murder was committed, was visited by general brackenbury. fragments of books, stewart's visiting cards, and a shirt-sleeve stained with blood, were found close by. whilst the crossing was being effected, the troops, not otherwise engaged, were employed in destroying the houses and property of fakri etman. the force then advanced along the right bank towards abu hamid. on the night of the rd, the whole column with boats was concentrated at the last cluster of huts in the monassir country, twenty-six miles from abu hamid, and the cavalry, which had scouted six miles ahead, were still without touch of the enemy. on the th, just as the further advance was being resumed, brackenbury received wolseley's instructions to discontinue the movement on abu hamid and return to merawi. the despatch said, "buller evacuated gubat. his main body went to gakdul with sick and wounded. he remains with , at abu klea. i have abandoned all hope of going to berber before the autumn campaign begins." this was a bitter disappointment to both officers and men. a strong patrol was advanced to within sight of mograt island (just opposite abu hamid), after which the column was reversed, reaching hebbeh again the same day. on the th it remained at the halting-place the whole day, as the horses and camels absolutely required rest. continuing his movement down the river on the following day, brackenbury reached a village opposite salamat. here, leaving the mounted troops and convoy to move independently on the right bank under the command of colonel butler, the general descended the river himself with the boats. on the th march hamdab was reached, the force having descended with the boats in nine days, a distance that it had taken thirty-one days to ascend. on the following day the force arrived at merawi. the crossing commenced at p.m., and was completed at . a.m. on the th. on the th, brackenbury, leaving the black watch, a troop of hussars, the egyptian camel corps, and a detachment of engineers, to remain at merawi under colonel butler, started with the rest for korti, which was reached the following day. apart from the engagement at kirbekan, the nile column had no fighting exploit to boast of. the crushing effect of that action was, however, shown by the fact that after the fight, the enemy allowed general brackenbury's force to march unmolested through the monassir country, to take successively all the positions which had been prepared for defence, and subsequently to retire through the same positions without firing a shot or offering any opposition. credit is undoubtedly due to the column for the manner in which it triumphed over the difficulties caused by the nature of the river, which from a few miles above merawi presented a succession of rapids. all these rapids, amongst the most formidable obstacles on the nile, were ascended and descended at an unfavourable season, with a loss by drowning of only three lives throughout the entire operation. chapter xlvii. wolseley and the prosecution of the campaign. to return to lord wolseley's head-quarters at korti. there is no doubt that the news of the fall of khartoum was a severe blow to wolseley. it seemed as if, for once, his star had deserted him. all hope of adding the rescue of gordon and the relief of khartoum to his list of triumphs, was gone from the general who had so often been described as "the luckiest man in the british army." on the th february wolseley had telegraphed the disaster to the war office. on the th he sent another message, saying that he had directed all the wounded to be removed as soon as possible from abu klea and gubat, and added, "i only await the decision of government to give further orders." there is here a gap in the published blue book, some of the messages exchanged with the war office being evidently suppressed. but in a despatch to sir evelyn baring, dated the th february, it is stated that "her majesty's government have given complete discretion to lord wolseley to take all such measures as he may deem necessary for the further conduct of his operations, and they have assured his lordship that he will receive any further assistance which he may desire, either by the despatch of troops to souakim and berber, or in any other manner he may indicate." that wolseley, under the altered circumstances, was not prepared to advise an attempt to recapture khartoum with the force at his disposal, appears clear from the following extracts from his despatch to lord hartington of the th february:-- "i shall not attempt to disguise from your lordship how deeply the reported fall of khartoum is felt by all ranks in the army under my command. if it be literally true--and it is difficult to disbelieve it--the mission of this force, which was the relief of khartoum, falls to the ground. "the strength and composition of this little army was calculated for the relief, not the siege and capture, of khartoum, the two operations being entirely different in character and magnitude. the former meant one or more engagements in the open with an enemy who, owing to the geographical position of khartoum, could not concentrate his forces without raising the siege, and who, in order to concentrate, would have had to pass his troops, guns, ammunition, &c., over two unfordable rivers of considerable breadth, in the face of general gordon's armed steamers. "if he opposed my advance along the right bank of the nile upon khartoum, he must have fought in a position where defeat would have been his destruction. i think i may say that, as long as khartoum held out, he could not have prevented my entering it, although he might afterwards have awaited my attack in a selected position on the left bank of the white nile to the south or south-west of the city. "with khartoum in the enemy's possession, the whole conditions are reversed, and the mahdi, strengthened by the large number of rifles, guns, ammunition, &c., taken in that place, and by the captured troops, who would certainly fight on his side, could concentrate an overwhelming force to oppose my advance; and, if defeated, could still fall back upon the city, the siege and capture of which, situated as it is in the fork of two unfordable rivers, would be an impossible operation for the little army under my command, more especially as it would then be incumbered by a large number of wounded men. as i have already said, the force under my command was not intended for any operation of that magnitude, nor was such an operation even contemplated in the instructions i received from her majesty's government. khartoum, in the hands of the enemy, cannot be retaken until the force under my command has been largely augmented in numbers and in artillery." although operations against khartoum were for the moment out of the question, the necessity of doing something seems to have occurred both to the government and lord wolseley, if only for the sake of satisfying public opinion and restoring the prestige of the british army. seeing the position occupied by the british forces at this time, it is not surprising that wolseley should have had the idea of seizing berber by means of a combined attack by the river column under general earle and by the desert column from metammeh under general buller. it was intended that this operation should be accompanied by an onslaught upon osman digna in the neighbourhood of souakim, which it was hoped would have the effect of keeping open the road between that place and berber. on th february, wolseley telegraphed to general earle as follows:-- "government have decided that mahdi's power at khartoum must be overthrown. this most probably means a campaign here next cold weather, and certainly the retention in the soudan of all troops now here. a strong force of all arms goes as soon as possible to souakim to crush osman digna. we must now take berber. buller will take metammeh. let me know date you will reach berber, so that buller's force may co-operate with you." the same day wolseley telegraphed to lord hartington as follows:-- "the sooner you can now deal with osman digna the better. i should recommend brigade of indian infantry and one regiment of punjaub cavalry to be sent to souakim as soon as possible to hold that place during summer, and co-operate with me in keeping road to berber open; the english troops you send now to souakim might then either go to mountains near there for summer, or to egypt to be ready for autumn campaign."[ ] it is clear from the two preceding despatches that there had been some communication between the general and the government which has not been disclosed, on the subject of the english force which it was intended to send to souakim. on th february, a further despatch from wolseley to earle stated that the government had decided that the troops were to stay in the soudan till the mahdi's power at khartoum was destroyed; that if they could not do this before the hot weather they must wait till autumn; that buller had left gakdul on the th for gubat, and would take metammeh as soon as the royal irish reached gubat; that on the river column reaching berber, buller, who would be in the neighbourhood with four or six guns and about , men on the left bank, would meet earle and co-operate with him in the attack on berber. the government lost no time in carrying out the souakim project, and on the th general stephenson in cairo received instructions to arrange for the immediate purchase of camels for the expedition,[ ] and on the th february lord hartington telegraphed to wolseley the composition of the force which the government proposed sending to souakim, making altogether , men. the despatch added that the indian brigade and cavalry asked for had also been ordered. the general was asked to give his opinion as between this and the smaller force, which could move more quickly.[ ] on the th wolseley's plans were so far matured that he telegraphed to lord hartington that he proposed leaving for gubat to direct the operations himself. to this lord hartington replied on the th that there appeared to be great advantages in wolseley's present position for communicating with both columns, and with souakim and egypt, and stated that the government relied on him not to allow his natural wish to take an active part in the operations to influence his decision. the general replied that, as he did not expect to take berber before the th march, there was no immediate necessity to decide the question of his leaving. he added that he proposed to leave general dormer in command at korti in case he (wolseley) felt it desirable in the interests of the service to go forward. on the th lord hartington telegraphed to wolseley further details as to the souakim force, and also the arrangements made with messrs. lucas and aird for the construction of a railway from souakim to berber. this seems to have been the first mention of the railway. wolseley replied that if he could take berber before the hot weather set in, which was very doubtful, the railway could then be made through to that place without any cessation of construction; but, if berber were in the enemy's hands, in all probability it could only be made to the neighbourhood of ariab. in the meantime, rails, sleepers, &c., for the construction of the desert section of miles, from ariab to berber, should be collected at ariab. a few days later the news of buller's retreat from gubat apparently caused wolseley to modify his plans. reporting that movement on the th, his lordship added as follows:-- "i think he (buller) acted with wisdom and discretion; for, since the fall of khartoum, the whole of the mahdi's army is disposable, and could have invested him at gubat with a large force, not only of men, but of guns; this they cannot do either at abu klea or gakdul. my instructions to general buller were on no account to allow himself to be shut in near metammeh; and, with the information he had of the mahdi's movements, in proceeding to abu klea, he has rightly interpreted the spirit of these instructions. the fall of khartoum set free for the mahdi a considerable army; and furnished him with an arsenal containing a great number of guns and rifles, and about , , rounds of rifle ammunition. operations which before could be carried out under only the ordinary hazards of war cannot now be undertaken without incurring inordinate risks. when khartoum fell, moreover, the main object for which general stewart's force was sent to metammeh ceased to exist. that object was to be prepared to march at once, even at considerable hazard, to the assistance of gordon, should it be found that he required immediate aid. "the capture of khartoum left his force without an objective; while, at the same time, it greatly increased the insecurity of its position. its isolated situation, separated from me by miles of desert, and liable at any moment to have its communications cut by a movement of the mahdi down the nile, has latterly caused me considerable anxiety." at the opening of parliament on the th february the government announced that it had decided on going to khartoum to break the power of the mahdi. on the th february lord wolseley telegraphed that the state of his supplies would not admit of his going to berber, even if he thought his lines of communication sufficiently secure, which he did not think they were, to warrant such a forward movement so late in the season. he would hold the line of river from merawi to dongola and hanneck cataract during the summer, and prepare for an autumn campaign. to do anything else would, he thought, be unwise. with a view to carrying out the plan of holding the river as indicated, wolseley now sent orders to earle's nile column, to stop the advance upon berber and to return to merawi. on the st, lord hartington asked wolseley if anything more could be done for supplies for the summer. lord wolseley replied on the nd as follows:-- "when i have concentrated my force on this part of the nile, i have no fear for my communications, so i do not want any more troops here now. it is important to thoroughly crush osman digna, and restore peace to the country now under his influence, in order to push forward the railway, and, by a brilliant success near souakim, make the soudanese realize what they must expect when we move forward in the autumn." wolseley's views on the military situation, and on the operations to be conducted, were communicated to lord hartington in a despatch dated th march, , from which the following is an extract:-- "in reply to my telegram, your lordship informed me that my immediate duty was to protect the province of dongola--the only province of the soudan which is still clear of the enemy--and that, as soon as the necessary arrangements could be completed, her majesty's government had determined to destroy the mahdi's power at khartoum, in order that peace, order, and a settled government might be established there. this i conceive to be in general terms a fair description of the new mission with which i have been intrusted, and which i shall endeavour to carry out next autumn. "i take this opportunity of congratulating her majesty's government upon having adopted the nile route as the line of advance for this force on khartoum. had this army been despatched from souakim as a base, and upon arrival at, or near, berber, learnt that khartoum had fallen, it could not possibly have transferred its base to the mediterranean, for it could not have been fed under those circumstances in this part of the nile valley. the province of dongola would have been at the enemy's mercy, and the frontiers of egypt would have been open to his attack. "as it is impossible for me to undertake any offensive operations until about the end of summer, it is important that in the meanwhile osman digna's power in the souakim district should be crushed. the defeat will, in some measure, act as a counterpoise to the mahdi's capture of khartoum. this operation is not difficult, as the forces are near the seaboard, and it should be immediately followed by the occupation of the tokar and sinkat districts. a railway should also be begun without delay at souakim in the direction of berber. your lordship has informed me that a contract has been entered into for the construction of this railway on a gauge of ft. - / inches. "although i do not for a moment entertain the idea that a railway of such a gauge can be completed over the miles (about) of country lying between souakim and berber in time to have any very direct or immediate effect upon our operations towards khartoum next autumn, i am convinced that active progress made upon it will bring home to mohammed ahmed, and to all intelligent sheikhs, the fact that we are now in earnest, and do not mean to leave the country until we have re-established order and a settled government at khartoum. "i am now engaged in distributing the army along the left bank of the nile on the open reach of water that extends from the hanneck cataract to abu dom, opposite merawi. there i shall be quite prepared to meet mohammed ahmed at any time during the summer, should he, by any good fortune, be tempted to advance in this direction. during the summer i shall collect the supplies which this army will require for its advance in the autumn. the railway from souakim to berber would take about two years and five months to complete." in reading this despatch it will be seen that wolseley lays stress upon the necessity of crushing osman digna's force at souakim. he also recommends the immediate construction of the souakim-berber railway. but on the th february instructions had already been given to graham to effect both these objects. of this wolseley was fully aware at the time, and it strikes one as singular that so late in the day he should be found advising the government to take two steps which had already been decided on. further, it will be noticed that his lordship, whilst approving of the construction of the railway (which he reckons would require two years and five months) is careful to point out that he does not for a moment entertain the idea that it could be constructed in time to have any direct or immediate effect upon the operations towards khartoum, to be undertaken in the autumn. another singular feature in the despatch is the complacency with which his lordship, after the total failure of the expedition by way of the nile, congratulates the government on having chosen that route. the difficulties in the way of further operations during the summer now began to be apparent. the hot weather had set in at korti. the thermometer on the th march registered degrees under the shade of the trees. later on it went up two degrees higher still. the wind blowing from the desert was like a blast from a furnace. under these conditions the tents with which the soldiers were provided offered little or no protection. sickness, too, began to break out, and several cases of enteric fever were reported. the nile column, as already stated, got back on the th march, and the last troops of the desert column arrived from abu klea on the th, and, with the exception of the detachment left at merawi, the whole of wolseley's army was now assembled at korti.[ ] chapter xlviii. the souakim expedition of . the real object and intention of the gladstone administration in directing the despatch of the souakim expedition of will probably remain for ever a mystery. wolseley had, it is true, pointed out the necessity of losing no time in dealing a crushing blow to osman digna, and had suggested the sending of a brigade of indian infantry and a regiment of punjaub cavalry to souakim to hold that place during the summer and to co-operate with him in keeping open the road to souakim. he also approved the commencement of the souakim-berber railway. but his demands, so far as the published papers show, appear to have gone no further than that. the expedition told off to souakim was nevertheless fixed at , men, and comprised nearly every arm of the service. in addition, there were all the plant, materials, and labour required for the purpose of making the souakim-berber railway. the season chosen for the expedition, too, was singularly unfortunate, as it coincided with the precise time of the year at which, a twelvemonth before, the hot weather had compelled the withdrawal of graham's army, and when even the one or two squadrons of cavalry which gordon had asked to be sent to berber were refused him. there is some reason to suppose that at the time the expedition was resolved upon the idea was that it should co-operate with wolseley's forces in a movement upon khartoum as soon as the nile force should have succeeded in taking berber, and that when the movement on berber was postponed till the autumn the object of the expedition had to be limited to "the crushing of osman digna and the opening up of the souakim-berber route." at all events, this was announced as the official programme. it will not fail to strike the reader that this was to undertake in march, , with troops from england, precisely the enterprise which the government, in march, , declined to undertake with troops on the spot. the only change in the situation was that then the expedition would have been in time to have saved khartoum, whereas now it was too late. it seems to have been fated that the policy of "rescue and retire" should always be adopted, the former too late, and the latter too soon. probably the true explanation is to be found in the exigencies of the political situation. the gladstone administration felt the necessity for doing something, if only to satisfy public opinion, intensely excited by the news from khartoum. the government had allowed khartoum to fall and gordon to perish. the result was neither creditable to the ministry nor favourable to british prestige. on the th february lord salisbury, replying to lord granville's announcement that the government had "decided upon going on to khartoum to break the power of the mahdi," declared that "gordon had been sacrificed to the squabbles of a cabinet and the necessities of party politics." this was followed on the rd by sir stafford northcote moving a vote of censure in the house of commons on the soudan policy of the government. the motion was only lost by fourteen votes, a similar motion by lord salisbury being carried in the house of lords by no less than votes. whatever may have been the motives of the government in deciding upon the expedition to souakim, no time was lost in making the necessary preparations. this time it was determined to carry out the operations on a grand scale. the force was fixed at considerably more than double the number engaged in the souakim expedition of . amongst the troops ordered to take part in it were the st battalion of the coldstream guards; the nd battalion of the scots guards; the rd battalion of the grenadier guards; the st battalion of the shropshire regiment; the nd battalion of the east surrey; the st battalion of the berkshire regiment; one battalion of royal marines; one regiment of australian infantry; some batteries of royal horse artillery, of royal artillery, and australian artillery; some companies of royal marine artillery, and royal engineers, as well as squadrons of the th lancers, and the th hussars, and detachments of the ordnance, commissariat, and medical staff corps. in addition to these, an indian contingent of over , men was provided. it comprised the th bengal cavalry, the th (loodianah) sikhs, the th bengal native infantry, the th bombay native infantry, and some companies of madras sappers. besides the above, several hundred labourers were ordered from england, and one thousand coolies from india to construct the railway to berber. the operation of crushing osman digna having to be performed, general graham was selected as the "crusher." this was a surprise to most people, and probably equally so to graham himself. military critics had not forgotten how, by his order to charge, given at an unfortunate moment, the general very nearly caused the wreck of the nd brigade at tamaai; nor the ill-feeling, bordering almost upon insubordination, which his treatment of the black watch had brought about in the soudan army of ; and the appointment was freely criticized. the general, however, was a nominee of lord wolseley, and this, although it did not silence criticism, served in a great measure to satisfy public opinion. brevet-major-general a. j. l. fremantle was appointed to command the brigade of guards, and major-general greaves was named chief of the staff. the infantry brigade was placed under major-general sir j. c. mcneill, v.c. general graham's instructions, dated th february, were on arrival at souakim to take command of the forces which were to be assembled there, to make the best arrangements which the shortness of the time at his disposal, before the hot weather commenced, would admit of to organize a field force, and to make such transport arrangements as were possible to enable it to secure the first and most pressing object of the campaign, viz., the destruction of the power of osman digna. the general was told that an agreement had been made with messrs. lucas and aird to construct a railway from souakim to berber, and that on this he must greatly rely for his means of transporting supplies. it would therefore be of the first importance that every possible facility should be given to messrs. lucas and aird in the conduct of their operations. the pushing on of the railway from souakim towards berber was the next point to which he was to direct the greatest attention. by the agreement with messrs. lucas and aird, the contractors were to construct for the war department for the purposes of the expeditionary force, a ft. - / -inch gauge single line of railway from souakim, and thence in sections so far towards berber as might from time to time be ordered in writing by the secretary of state, and also an -inch gauge single line of railway in or about souakim. the war department engaged to keep the way clear and the working staff protected. the contractors were to supply plant and working staff, and, with regard to the latter, were to be at liberty, with the consent of the secretary at war, to employ natives as labourers. the staff to be paid by the government, and rationed and clothed by the war department. the contractors were to receive a commission of per cent. upon all expenditure, from the war department, such commission, however, not to exceed in the whole £ , , and they were to be entitled to a further sum not exceeding £ , if the railway should be satisfactorily completed in the judgment of the secretary of state. on the th february, lord hartington again called graham's attention to the necessity for rapidly constructing the railway from souakim to berber, and to the extreme importance of the services it would be required to perform, not only in connection with the advance of graham's force, but also in connection with the troops under wolseley's command when concentrated at berber. his lordship pointed out that by this route alone, when the railway should have been completed, could that force be supplied, re-equipped, and reinforced with that precision and certainty so essential to the future operations on the nile. he continued:-- "when the first and essential operation of crushing osman digna and clearing the country sufficiently to make it safe for the constructors of the railway is accomplished, the next most important duty will be the pushing on of the railway, and i request that you will facilitate and aid this object by every means in your power. you will, of course, decide what military posts you will occupy." towards the end of february graham's force began to assemble at souakim, and from that date troop-ships and store-ships began to come in almost daily. early in march graham reached souakim, and assumed command of the force assembled there. considering the camp to be too extended, rendering night attacks too easy, he at once took steps to reduce the front occupied. the enemy had in fact for some time been in the habit of attacking in small bodies every night, and succeeded in killing or wounding many of the sentries. the camps were surrounded by zeribas and entanglements which were never attacked, the plan adopted being to creep in at unguarded points, and stab or spear the men as they slept. a large number of so-called friendly natives were employed about the camps in the daytime, and so acquired a knowledge of the localities. returning at night, it was thus easy for them to choose positions which were unguarded, and so to murder the sleeping soldiers. that this was so, was shown by more than one native who had been shot down being found to be wearing the red badge given to the "friendlies." on the th graham's force amounted to officers, , non-commissioned officers and privates, , horses, , camels, mules, and , followers. at this date troop and store-ships were still arriving. on the th graham made a reconnaissance to hasheen, about seven and a half miles from souakim, with the cavalry brigade and mounted infantry, the infantry of the indian contingent moving out about four miles in support. the enemy retired in front of the british force, evacuating the village of hasheen, and making for the mountains, but not without first offering some resistance, by which one private was killed, and one officer and a sergeant were wounded. after this the whole force marched back to the camp. on the th graham determined on a general advance to hasheen, and at . a.m., leaving only the shropshire regiment and details as guards, the whole force, numbering about , men, marched out from the camp. making for the hills in front of hasheen, the cavalry moved off at about . a.m., the infantry following at . in the following order:--the guards in columns of companies, on the right; the nd brigade (east surrey regiment and marines), in line of company columns of fours; the indian brigade in column of companies on the left; the horse artillery battery on the right of the line. the water camels and transport animals followed in rear of the nd brigade. the action is described in the general's despatch as follows:-- "the advance was made in a direction nearly due west. the infantry reached the foot of the hills at about . a.m. the th and th companies royal engineers, the madras sappers, and the th east surrey regiment, were ordered to commence work at once. the enemy had fallen back on dihilibat and the beehive hill, exchanging shots with my advance guard at about eight a.m. i now determined to clear these hills, and gave orders to the infantry to advance in the following order:-- nd brigade in first line, indian contingent in support, guards in reserve; the horse artillery to take up a position on beehive hill. "at about nine a.m. the force had reached the foot of dihilibat hill. the berkshire regiment advanced up the steep slopes of the hill in attack formation, with one half battalion royal marine light infantry on the right rear, and the other half battalion in rear of the centre of the berkshire regiment as supports. the ascent was very steep and difficult, but the first spur was occupied without opposition. this spur is separated from the main edge by a deep ravine. the enemy now, however, opened a heavy fire from the summit, and from a position further to the right. the berkshire regiment replied by volleys, and the half battalion of marines on the right was advanced to flank the enemy's position. the enemy then abandoned their position, and the berkshire regiment advanced to the summit, and detached one company to a spur on the left, from which an effective fire was opened upon the retiring enemy. meanwhile the indian brigade had taken up a position between the foot of dihilibat and the beehive hill; the guards also were formed up near the foot of the north-east spur of dihilibat hill. "the horse artillery, which moved out with the guards' brigade as far as the first hills, received orders to follow the indian brigade in its further advance, and to take up a position on beehive hill. while passing under the hill dihilibat they were heavily fired upon, losing two horses. the slopes of beehive hill proving impracticable for the guns, the battery, after firing a few rounds of shrapnel into the bush, detached three guns to a position on a low spur to the west of beehive hill, where they remained in action for some time shelling parties of the enemy who were visible across the valley on the spurs of the wharatab range. the battery subsequently retired with the guards' square, and took up a position on one of the hills reached at . . here several rounds were fired, subsequently to the retirement of the infantry, at parties of the enemy which appeared on the low spur. "at about . a.m. two squadrons of the th bengal cavalry were detached by colonel ewart, commanding cavalry brigade, to pursue the enemy, who, driven from the hill dihilibat by the berkshire regiment, were retiring south in the direction of tamaai. colonel ewart ordered two squadrons to dismount and fire volleys. these squadrons were charged by the enemy in considerable strength, and retired with loss on the square formed by the guards at the foot of the dihilibat hill. "during the morning the th lancers were employed in securing the right front. at about . a considerable force of the enemy endeavoured to advance down the hasheen valley from the north-west, apparently attempting to turn my right flank. both the th lancers and a portion of the th bengal cavalry were engaged with the small advanced parties of this force, and succeeded in checking the movement. during this time work was carried on by the royal engineers and madras sappers, assisted by parties of the east surrey regiment, and by about . p.m. four strong posts had been formed, and a zeriba commenced. "at . i recalled the indian brigade, the berkshire regiment, and the marines covering the movement. the latter then joined the indian brigade, and, forming a single square, retired to the more open ground south. the guards' square and the artillery remained at the foot of the dihilibat hill till one p.m., and then retired, taking a direction somewhat to the south of that followed by the nd and indian brigades. "during the retirement of the guards the right face of the square received a hot fire from parties of the enemy concealed among the bushes, and suffered some loss. by firing steady volleys into the bush the enemy's fire was effectually silenced, and the brigade halted close to the south foot of the hills first mentioned. the general retirement of the whole force began about . p.m., and the camp was reached at . . "the dihilibat hill was carried by the berkshire regiment with the greatest spirit, and the behaviour of the guards' square under a heavy fire from an unseen enemy was marked by extreme steadiness. during the formation of the fortified posts, the presence of the enemy in rear rendered it necessary several times to order the east surrey regiment to stand to their arms. this was done without any confusion, and the royal engineers and madras sappers quietly continued their work on the defences. "it is impossible in such a country to estimate the numbers of an enemy who is able to remain completely concealed until he chooses to attack; but it is probable that on this occasion the number of arabs present was about , , of whom at least were killed, much of this loss being caused by the fire of the berkshire regiment from the commanding position they had taken up on dihilibat hill. the scouting was very efficiently performed by the cavalry, considering the great difficulties of the country with which they had to contend." the enemy, according to other accounts, seemed to have lost none of the daring with which they had met graham's force a twelvemonth before. instead of fleeing before the charge of the bengal lancers, the soudanese actually charged the cavalry. the same tactics were practised as at el-teb, the soudanese throwing themselves on the ground at the critical moment of the charge, and slashing with their swords at the horses' legs. so badly were the lancers used that they had to fall back as stated in the despatch, losing one non-commissioned officer and four men, whose horses had been hamstrung in the encounter. in the course of the fight, some of the enemy sprang up from behind a hill yards off, and had the audacity to charge the whole of the guards' brigade. the assailants were received by such a deadly fire from the face of the square that they never succeeded in getting nearer than fifteen or twenty yards of the line of bayonets. those who survived at once turned and fled, leaving behind their wounded chief on a camel, within thirty yards of the square, where he was made prisoner. the object of the recall of the indian brigade at . p.m., and the subsequent retirement towards the hill (then being fortified by the th regiment) of that force, the berkshire regiment, and marines, followed at one p.m. by the guards and artillery, practically the whole army, is not stated in the general's despatch. but from other reports it seems that the troops had got into a position where the thickness of the bush gave the enemy the advantage of pouring a heavy fire into general graham's force, whilst the latter could only deliver an ineffective fire in return.[ ] at the position to which the troops fell back, the ground was more open, and graham's men could make better practice with their martinis. the apparent intention of the enemy to turn the right of the british line, also probably influenced the general in retiring. after some hours' marching and fighting under a blazing sun the force set out on the return to souakim, leaving a detachment to guard the fortified posts made by the engineers and madras sappers. the following are the casualties as reported by telegram from graham:--officers killed, lieutenant m. d. d. dalison, scots guards; native officer, indian contingent; non-commissioned officers and privates, and sowars of the indian contingent. wounded, officers, non-commissioned officers and privates, sowars, and privates of the indian contingent. the enemy's strength was, as usual, liberally estimated in the various newspaper reports of the action, some putting the number as high as , men. general graham's original estimate was , , but this he subsequently reduced to , , a number probably much nearer the mark. graham's object in occupying a position at hasheen was declared by him to be to protect his right flank in the impending advance on tamaai, to obtain a post of observation near to the mountains, and to assist in overawing the tribes. how far this was effected may be judged from the fact that only five days later the works were dismantled and the place was abandoned. chapter xlix. the attack on mcneill's zeriba. after the operations on the th and th march, , preparations were made for the advance on tamaai, osman digna's reputed head-quarters and stronghold. situated, as it was, some fourteen miles to the south-west of souakim, the distance was deemed too great to be traversed in a single day's march. it became necessary then, as on previous occasions, to establish an intermediate position in which, as an advanced camp, the usual stores of water, provisions, and ammunition might be accumulated.[ ] about an hour after daylight on the nd march the force detached for this purpose started from souakim. ahead and on the flanks was one squadron of the th lancers scouting; next marched the british regiments, the th berkshire, and the royal marine light infantry, formed up in square under the command of major-general sir john c. mcneill. the berkshire regiment led the way, and the marines brought up the rear, a detachment of the royal engineers occupying places in the flanks. the only representatives of the artillery arm were four gardner guns with detachments of sailors and royal marine artillery. outside the british square, but close to its left flank, moved the field telegraph waggon and party, which kept unrolling the telegraph wire and covering it with loose soil as it went on, so maintaining the communication with souakim throughout the advance. [illustration] formed up in a still larger square a short distance in rear of the right flank, the indian contingent marched in echelon under command of brigadier-general hudson. the th sikhs formed the front face and a portion of the flanks. the remainder of the right flank and one half of the rear face were formed by the th bombay native infantry. the th bengal native infantry occupied a similar position on the left flank and rear face. in reserve, immediately within the rear face, marched a company of madras sappers. within this square was inclosed a vast and miscellaneous array of laden camels, mules, carts, and conveyances of all kinds, forming the transport train. the camels alone numbered from , to , , and there were in all some , animals. the combined british and indian forces amounted to , men. the orders were for the whole force to proceed to a point eight miles distant in the direction of tamaai, there to form a zeriba (no. ), in which the stores, &c., were to be deposited. when this was accomplished the lancers, indian infantry, and empty transport train were to return, stop at a point five miles from souakim, construct another zeriba (no. ), and leaving it to be garrisoned by the th sikhs, go back to souakim. general graham accompanied the troops for about two and a half miles and then returned to camp, the chief of his staff warning mcneill to "look out for an attack," but, beyond this casual reference to the possibility of an attack, nothing more was said on the subject, although at head-quarters information had several days previously been received that the force would be assailed by at least , of the enemy before there should be time to form the zeriba. the importance of this circumstance will be apparent later on in connection with the events which followed. the route which the force was instructed to take was to the westward of the comparatively well-known road followed by baker pasha, and also by the british troops, in , and though free from difficulty at first, later on led through thick bush of ever-increasing height and density. the rate of progress was necessarily slow, and frequent halts became imperative. as the force advanced the lancers began to report that parties of the enemy were seen hovering about. the heat of the day, with a burning sun overhead, from which the bushes afforded no protection, now began to tell on the men, and at a.m., when a little over five miles had been traversed, it was calculated by the two generals that, allowing time for the construction of the zeribas (nos. and ) and the return journey, it would be well towards midnight before the indian brigade and transport train would get back to souakim. accordingly at . it was determined to halt the force and make the zeriba in an open space six miles from the camp at souakim. the spot selected formed a large oblong with very irregular outlines, presenting an area in the clearest portions about half a square mile in extent. mcneill then telegraphed to head-quarters at souakim the change which the difficulties with the transport had necessitated, and received back in reply the message, "go on if you can; if not, zeriba." the reply also stated that, as the halt had been made at only six miles distance, no intermediate zeriba would be required at the five-mile point previously ordered. the site for the zeriba being fixed upon, no time was lost in making the necessary dispositions. the troops marched upon the ground in the same order in which they had advanced, and the british square, being the first to emerge upon the open, turning up a little to the left halted in its original formation, taking up a position on the north-east side of the open space. past it came the indian brigade with the transport train under its charge, general hudson disposing his troops so as to cover the ground on the three remaining sides. on the side opposite the british square were posted the th sikhs, to the right the bombay native infantry, and to the left the bengal native infantry. the bush in front of the bombay infantry being very dense, and comparatively open in front of the bengal infantry, two companies of the latter were moved across and placed on the right of the former to strengthen and prolong this face. in order to protect the front of the various lines of infantry, small pickets of from four to five men each were thrown forward about yards. a quarter of a mile further out in front of these pickets were the lancers, arranged as "cossack posts" of four men each. another "cossack post," also of four men, was used as a connecting link, the remainder constituting the picket and visiting patrols. at once the task of measuring and pegging out the site for the proposed works was taken in hand. the plan adopted was to form three separate squares placed diagonally like squares on a chess-board, or, as it is termed, "in echelon," the large or central square, intended to contain the stores, non-combatants, and transport animals, being between the other two. attached to this, and communicating with it at its north-west and south-east angles respectively, were the smaller squares set apart for the north and south zeribas, of equal dimensions, with accommodation in each for a battalion and two gardner guns. by this arrangement every side of the central square or zeriba was capable of being swept by a flanking fire from the zeribas at the angles. working parties were organized for cutting down the bush and dragging it into position. the chief work of construction fell upon the royal engineers and the madras sappers, but to expedite matters working parties were drawn both from the british and indian troops. the remainder of the british troops, retaining their original formation in square, piled their arms, and were ordered to lie down and rest. the indian troops not engaged in cutting brushwood remained standing to their arms in lines two deep. at . the marines had their rations served out, the men dining by half-companies at a time. at p.m. major graves with a squadron of the th hussars arrived from the camp at souakim, and stated that he had been sent by general graham to communicate with mcneill. the major reported that on the way out he had seen in his front stray parties of the enemy, who retired before the cavalry without coming into collision. on receiving a despatch for graham's chief of the staff, stating that matters were proceeding satisfactorily, the major started with the hussars on his return journey at . . as the most vital part of the defences, attention had been first of all directed to the formation of the north and south zeribas. both of these were pushed on with the utmost expedition, but, as has been seen, the bush being thickest at the north side, in front of the bombay infantry, the zeriba at this angle was in a more advanced state than that on the south side. the former was completed shortly after p.m., and the two gardner guns designed for it were got into position. the battalion of marines hitherto forming part of the british square was now transferred to this zeriba, together with the reserve ammunition and the telegraph waggon. with this transfer of marines the berkshire battalion was contracted into a smaller square. meanwhile the south zeriba was also being rapidly proceeded with, and it being represented that the berkshires had eaten nothing since a.m., rations and water were ordered to be served out to them, the men taking their food by half battalions. as soon as the first of the half battalions had finished it was marched into the south zeriba, very soon after the marines had occupied that on the north. the time was now getting on towards half-past two, and shortly after the half battalion had gone into the zeriba the soldiers piled their arms inside, part of the men going out in front of the sikhs to cut bush in order to complete the defences.[ ] the camels had been unloaded in the central zeriba, and were filing out to form up for the return march, the bulk of them being collected on an unoccupied space to the south-east. the lines were being held by eight companies of the bengal infantry, by the th sikhs, and by the bombay infantry. this was the situation when shortly after . one of the lancers rode up and informed mcneill that the enemy was gathering in front and advancing rapidly. orders were at once given for the working and covering parties to come in and for the troops to stand to their arms. whilst these instructions were being carried into effect, the cavalry were seen galloping up on every side with the soudanese close at their heels. the attack was delivered mainly on the southern and western sides, the soudanese surging onwards in one vast impetuous mass, enveloped in clouds of dust and filling the air with shouts and yells as they made frantic efforts to storm the position. the berkshires and marines, as well as the sikhs and bombay infantry, stood their ground, receiving and repulsing the attack with a heavy fire. the th bengal native infantry, however, thrown into partial disorder by some of the cavalry riding through their ranks, fired one wild and scattered volley and fled for such cover as the zeriba might afford, many of them being shot down by the defenders. every effort was made to rally the fugitives, and about were got within the southern zeriba, where they fired another ineffectual volley and again broke and fled. the assailants now crowded in by the uncompleted salient at a point where there was no brushwood, but merely a sandbag parapet, where the gardner guns, not being yet in position, could not be got into action, and killed six of the sailors and four officers. other parties of the enemy following the retreat of the madras infantry dashed into the central zeriba, and caused a stampede among the animals there and a panic among the native drivers. a general rush of the latter took place both to the open side, and also through the north zeriba, where some of the marines were for the moment carried away by it. at this moment the rear rank of the berkshire half battalion engaged in defending the western face of the south zeriba faced about and occupied the gap through which the soudanese were now pouring. meeting the enemy half-way, the berkshires despatched every arab who had entered, bodies being counted within the limits of this zeriba alone. they also captured a flag which the enemy had planted on the sandbag parapet. in a few minutes this zeriba was cleared, and no further serious attack was made upon it. the bulk of the enemy's force, repelled by the steady volleys from the troops on the south and west sides of the position, swept round by the great mass of the transport animals, gathered together outside and to the eastward for the return journey to souakim. it was to cover this part of the ground that six companies of the bengal infantry had been drawn up in line. their unfortunate collapse, however, gave the enemy an opportunity of which they were not slow to take advantage. with a wild howl, peculiarly alarming to the camel, they rushed upon the panic-stricken and helpless mass. plying lance and sword, cutting, stabbing, hacking, and hamstringing the beasts, and slaughtering their drivers, the tribesmen of the soudan drove before them an unwieldy and terrified body, heedless of everything but flight. thus driven, the transport train broke up and scattered itself in all directions. impelled by the pursuers, part of it bore down upon the zeribas held by the berkshires and marines respectively, and part on the central zeriba. mixed up as they were with the charging enemy, many of the animals were unavoidably shot down by the troops as a matter of self-preservation. the same thing happened in the attack made upon the half battalion of the berkshires which remained drawn up outside in square formation, but, pursued by the arabs, the great bulk of the baggage train went off in their mad flight in the direction of souakim. after the southern zeriba the two main points of attack were the northern zeriba, held by the marines and the half battalion of the berkshires. both these positions were in the direct line of the camel stampede, and their occupants were placed at a serious disadvantage. in spite of the completed mimosa fences, trampling their way over all obstacles, a mass of the terror-stricken animals tore right through the northern zeriba, for the time seriously disorganizing the defence. as stated by colonel way, an eye-witness-- "everything seemed to come at once, camels, transport of all kinds, including water-carts, ammunition mules, th native infantry, madras sappers, sick-bearers, transport corps, cavalry and arabs fighting in the midst. all these passed close by me, and went out on the other side of the zeriba, carrying away with them a number of the marines and some officers, who eventually got together and returned. the dust raised by this crowd was so great that i could not see anything beyond our zeriba for a minute or two, and it was impossible to say what might happen. the men behaved splendidly, and stood quite still. it was about the highest test of discipline i shall ever see, as in my opinion nothing could beat it." the stampede of the transport train is thus described by another writer:-- "suddenly from the bush all along the face of the zeriba fronting tamaai burst out a clamour of savage cries, and the next instant the whole assemblage of transport animals plunged forward. there was a multitude of roaring camels, apparently heaped one upon another, with strings of kicking and screaming mules, entangled in one moving mass. crowds of camp-followers were carried along by the huge animal wave, crying, shouting, and fighting. all these surged up on the zeriba, any resistance being utterly hopeless. this mass of brutes and terrified natives swept all before it, and a scene of indescribable confusion ensued." notwithstanding the rush of the transport which had passed through the marines' zeriba, comparatively few of the enemy seem to have penetrated it, only twelve bodies being counted there. outside the dead were much more numerous, the position having been attacked on various sides. the men behaved with the greatest coolness, and, after being rallied by their officers when the living avalanche had swept past, were well in hand. the naval detachment in this zeriba, more fortunate than their companions in the southern one, had their gardner guns in action from the first, discharging at least rounds and doing great execution. the half battalion of the berkshires remaining, formed up in the open at a distance of yards east of the zeriba, had also a severe time of it. falling in and standing to their arms at the first alarm, they formed a rallying square, and successfully defended themselves against the repeated attacks made on them. it was found that of the assailants had fallen before the fire of their rifles, whilst amongst themselves there was only one slight casualty. other small bodies of men who were outside the zeriba at the moment of the attack, or had stampeded at its occurrence, were similarly collected by their officers, and succeeded in making their way back to the zeriba. the whole affair lasted only about twenty minutes, after which the enemy, unable to stand any longer against the leaden hail of the martini-henry and snider rifles, recoiled at every point, and at twelve minutes past three, as the assailants disappeared in the bush, the bugle sounded "cease firing." up to the last moment individual arabs came forward, throwing up their hands above their heads, and facing the rifles as if bent on suicide, and courting the death which they received. small groups of them also formed up as if to encourage each other for a renewed assault, but without effecting anything they melted away before the deadly fire of the soldiers. when the smoke cleared away, and there was time to look around, a dreadful spectacle presented itself. the dead bodies of friends and foes lay thickly scattered within and about the zeribas. everywhere were wounded and slaughtered men and animals, whilst groans and cries filled the air. strewn upon the ground were arms and accoutrements of every kind, with all the usual accompaniments of a savage and sanguinary conflict. the enemy's force was reported by general graham in his despatch as not less than , , although, as he states, it was impossible to form an accurate estimate. the soudanese as usual fought with the utmost courage. one man came rushing on to the zeriba holding by the hand a boy armed with a knife. throwing the boy over the defensive works, he jumped in after him, and immediately both were killed. at another point there stood between the opposing forces another boy, apparently not more than twelve years old, actually throwing stones at the british troops in one of the zeribas. among various mischievous devices resorted to may be noted that of a soudanese armed with a rifle, who during the attack managed to creep up close to the mimosa fence of the southern zeriba, and from this cover contrived in succession to shoot first one and then another of the berkshires, and though fired at in return, was missed. his third shot was directed at a major of the regiment on duty inside the zeriba, who narrowly escaped, the bullet carrying away his trousers pocket and part of his coat, and not till then was the assailant shot. another trick of the assailants was to bring hides, and throwing them on the top of the thorny bushes forming the fence, they would spring over into the zeriba and rush at the defenders and engage in a hand-to-hand fight. during the assault on the southern zeriba an interesting adventure occurred to the colonel of the berkshires. he was sitting on his horse close to his regiment when the attack took place, and was confronted by a gigantic soudanese who appeared from behind a camel, brandishing a huge spear, and bent on slaughter. their eyes met, and seeing the colonel's revolver levelled at his head, the expression on the countenance of the savage suddenly changed from triumph to horror as the colonel fired, and the arab, with the upper part of his head blown away, fell to the ground a ghastly wreck. mcneill's force suffered severely, having, exclusive of camp-followers, officers and men killed, and officers and men wounded, and officer and men missing. amongst the killed were captain francis j. romilly, and lieutenant c. m. c. newman, of the royal engineers; lieutenant montague h. m. seymour, of the naval brigade; major von beverhoudt, of the indian contingent; quartermaster c. eastmead, of the ordnance store department, and lieutenant george s. swinton, of the berkshire regiment. the bodies of british and indian soldiers were found in the bush away from the zeriba. the loss in transport animals was enormous, over camels alone being killed. scores of them, which had been left outside the zeriba, were shot as the enemy swarmed on to the attack. the enemy's loss was severe. graham states that , bodies were found on the field. besides the bodies counted in the zeriba, there were the found in front of the berkshire regiment. near the redoubt held by the naval brigade, the dead lay in heaps. all around the ground was literally strewn with bodies; among them were several women and boys. throughout the entire conflict mcneill showed the greatest coolness and judgment, leading his men on with a courage oblivious of danger. during his preliminary efforts to rally the bengal native infantry, the general, mounted on his grey arab horse, found himself outside the defences, with the enemy streaming on full in front. here, strange to say, he seemed to be entirely unnoticed, and, with revolver in hand ready to despatch any who might venture too near, he quietly turned his horse, and without difficulty made him cross the fence and step into the zeriba. later on, towards half-past three, there were circumstances which appeared to indicate that the enemy, notwithstanding the heavy loss they had sustained, were disposed to renew the attack, a large gathering of them presenting itself to the south-east of the zeriba. their attitude was so threatening that mcneill resolved to make a sortie and endeavour to disperse them. taking with him two companies of marines, he led them straight for the enemy. as they advanced the little force was soon in front of the foe. fire was at once opened, and the ground cleared; and though the men were anxious to make a charge with the bayonet, the demonstration having served its purpose, the troops were withdrawn without further fighting. notwithstanding mcneill's successful defence of the zeriba, and the heavy loss inflicted on the enemy in the action on the nd, sir john has been the object of much adverse criticism. this criticism has been directed upon several points. it has been asked, why were the fatigue men employed in cutting materials for the zeriba allowed to go into the bush unarmed? sir john's answer is, that this was done designedly; the working parties were covered by the cossack pickets of the lancers; men incumbered with slung arms could not work to any good purpose in hot weather; in the event of attack, it was not desirable that the working parties should attempt to make a stand, as they would be of more service by running in and taking their places in the alignment marked by their piled arms, and they would thus avoid the danger of masking the fire of the troops in position. the main charge, however, brought against the general is that he allowed himself to be surprised. this, however, if true at all, is so only in a limited sense of the term. that his force was attacked before the whole of it had time to form up in a fighting attitude is undoubted; but whether this was through any fault of his is quite another matter. the careful planning of the zeribas, the disposition of the troops, and the outlying pickets and vedettes have already been referred to. it is difficult to see what other precautions the general, with the means at his command, could have adopted. not more than one-third of the british troops ever left their arms, and the indians, minus their fatigue parties, remained throughout in position constantly ready for an attack. whilst one half of the berkshires moved into their completed zeriba, the remaining half was carefully re-formed in square outside. in the issue, as showing that a zeriba was little required for their protection, this last half battalion proved the strongest part of the position, and though subject to repeated attacks, lost not a man. that sir john was not informed in time of the impending attack was due to the insufficient number (one squadron only) of cavalry with which he was provided, and which were absolutely necessary for covering a frontage of over three miles. here it may perhaps be remarked that, had this suggested itself to the general's mind, it seems strange that he did not take steps to detain and utilize the squadron of hussars, under major graves, which visited the zeriba shortly before the attack was made. the general had many difficulties to contend with. he was incumbered with a wholly disproportionate mass of transport; was directed on an impracticable line; was unsupplied with information of vital importance; and, finally, was sent to conduct an operation of which he strongly disapproved. to crown all, there was the flight of the bengal infantry at the very commencement of the fight, an event which the general could hardly have been expected to foresee. the result, however, was a signal victory, and practically the only successful operation of the campaign. graham was at souakim whilst the attack was made on the zeriba. on first hearing the firing at . p.m., he ordered the guards and horse artillery to go to mcneill's assistance. the force advanced two miles on the road when a message sent by the field-telegraph from the zeriba arrived, stating that the attack had been repelled, after which the proposed reinforcements returned to souakim. the following day graham advanced to mcneill's zeriba. here he sent off the following despatch, dated souakim, march rd, . p.m.:-- "_advanced zeriba, noon._ "arrived here with guards and large convoy. am sending in wounded and baggage animals with indian brigade and grenadier guards, under fremantle, leaving two battalions of guards here with mcneill's brigade. a strong zeriba has been constructed, and i consider position secure against any number of enemy. the attack yesterday was very sudden and determined, and came unfortunately on our weakest point. the sikhs charged the enemy with bayonet. the berkshire behaved splendidly, clearing out the zeriba where entered and capturing three standards. marines also behaved well. naval brigade was much exposed and suffered severely. engineers also suffered heavily, being out working when attacked. the enemy suffered very severely, more than a thousand bodies being counted. many chiefs of note are believed to have fallen. i deeply regret our serious losses, but am of opinion that mcneill did everything possible under the circumstances. the cavalry, th lancers, did their best to give information, but the ground being covered with bush it was impossible to see any distance. the troops behaved extremely well. all the staff and regimental officers did their utmost. enemy charged with reckless courage, leaping over the low zeriba to certain death; and, although they gained a temporary success by surprise, they have received a severe lesson, and up to the present time have not again attempted to molest the zeriba." of the scene round mcneill's zeriba some idea may be formed from the following description:-- "when going from souakim the last three miles of the march were marked at every step by graves, arab and indian, so shallow that from all oozed dark and hideous stains, and from many protruded mangled feet, half-stripped grinning skulls, or ghastly hands still clenched in the death agony, though reduced to little more than bone and sinew. strewed around, thicker and thicker, as we neared the scene of that sunday's fight, lay the festering bodies of camels and mules; and around them hopped and fluttered, scarcely moving when our column passed, hundreds of kites and vultures. the ground was also thickly sown with hands and feet dragged from their graves by the hyænas, and the awful stench and reek of carrion which loaded the air will never be forgotten by any of us. day after day we passed and repassed over the same sickening scene with our convoys, in blinding dust and under a scorching sun, obliged to move at a foot's pace to keep up with the weary camels, and to pick our steps carefully for fear of suddenly setting foot on one of those dreadful heaps of corruption." on the th march a convoy was sent out to mcneill's zeriba, under escort of the th sikhs, th bombay, and the madras sappers, with a few cavalry. when three miles from souakim the convoy halted according to instructions, commenced cutting wood and forming a zeriba. a battalion composed of guards and marines from mcneill's force marched towards them and was attacked on the way by a long range fire from the enemy, by which a lieutenant of the marines and one private were wounded. at two p.m. the two escorts met, when the guards and marines taking over the convoy prepared to return to mcneill's zeriba. at this moment the enemy appeared in force and attacked the column. the guards, marines, and cavalry, moving out in four different detachments, fired into the attacking force and dispersed it. the guards and marines then started again, but after ten minutes the enemy again appeared and fired a volley into them, which was at once returned. after less than a quarter of an hour a third attack was made. the guards fired volley after volley, and once more drove back their assailants. the column then renewed its march, parties of the enemy still following them, and from time to time attacking their rear. eventually the party got safely to the zeriba. the result of the day's proceedings was to show that the enemy, in no way disheartened by the losses on the nd, were still in force, and ready to attack within four miles of souakim. the attempt on the convoy was evidently made with the object of capturing the supplies destined for mcneill; and though it failed, it showed the increasing boldness of the enemy. on the th, a war balloon which had been sent out to mcneill's zeriba made an ascent in charge of major templar. the same day, with a view to the advance, the head-quarters camp was shifted to a spot two miles nearer tamaai, and the east surrey regiment having destroyed the post on the hills near hasheen, came in and joined the main body. chapter l. graham's advance and withdrawal from the eastern soudan. on the th march, another convoy was attacked, this time about two miles only from souakim. the enemy on this occasion charged the head of the square, and were repulsed with considerable loss, none of them getting within five yards of the square. the british casualties were three wounded. it was said that of the enemy were killed in this affair. the heat of the weather was now beginning to make itself felt, and several cases of sunstroke occurred amongst the troops engaged. the first part of the australian contingent arrived at souakim on the th march. the troops consisted of twenty-eight officers, men of the battalion of infantry, thirty men of the artillery, and thirty-three men of the ambulance corps. the contingent, which was commanded by colonel richardson, met with an enthusiastic reception from the naval and military forces at souakim. the railway was now vigorously pushed forward in the direction of handoub, and on the nd april general graham determined to advance and attack osman digna in his position at tamaai, although there was some doubt whether he would accept battle. accordingly at three a.m. the general paraded his troops in the moonlight, and at four marched them to mcneill's zeriba. this zeriba (no. ) was reached at a.m., and the force halted until . a.m. for rest and refreshment. during this time arrangements were made for the defence of the zeriba, at which the th bombay native infantry were left with two gardner guns manned by marine artillery. the balloon was filled and made ready for use for reconnoitring purposes. the troops were joined at the zeriba by the grenadier guards, the berkshire regiment, the th company of the royal engineers, two gardner guns, manned by the naval brigade, the mounted infantry, and one troop of the th bengal cavalry. a finer body of men than that which was now assembled was probably never got together. they were in the best of spirits, and looked forward with eagerness to meeting the enemy. the size and composition of the force were such as to render any possibility of it receiving a check from osman digna out of the question. the place where it was hoped the engagement would come off was the spot where graham had encountered such severe resistance just twelve months before. this time it was determined to be prepared to meet any number of the enemy. the march was resumed at . a.m., the whole force marching in square. it was composed of , officers and men, , horses, , camels, mules, and , camp-followers. soon after starting, an attempt was made to reconnoitre from the balloon, and parties of the enemy were reported to be discovered some miles in front. the wind, however, increased to such an extent as to render the balloon unserviceable, and at eleven it had to be packed up. the following details of the operations are taken mainly from general graham's despatch. "the square advanced slowly with frequent halts, owing to the density of bush in the neighbourhood of the zeriba. "at . p.m., about three miles from zeriba no. , the cavalry and mounted infantry reported the presence of the enemy in the bush in scattered groups, a few being on camels and the main portion on foot. these appeared to be at first advancing through the bush, but gradually fell back before the advance of the cavalry. "at . p.m. the force halted for a short time, and at . p.m. the enemy were reported as retiring towards the teselah hills and tamaai. at p.m., about three miles from the teselah hills, the force halted for water and food, and the mounted infantry and a squadron of the th bengal cavalry were ordered to reconnoitre the position on these hills, reported to be lined with the enemy. "at first the enemy seemed inclined to defend the position, but their flanks being threatened they fell back on tamaai. teselah, a group of bare rocky hills, about feet high, but practicable for guns, was occupied by the mounted infantry and bengal cavalry at three o'clock. from these hills an excellent view was obtained of the scattered villages of new tamaai, lying between the ridges of low hills beyond teselah, and the deep ravine khor ghoub, beyond which the country becomes exceedingly mountainous and intersected by ravines with precipitous sides. "the mounted infantry were ordered to push on to the village, find out if it was occupied, and then, if practicable, move on to the water and water the horses. one company advanced about a mile south through a village, when fire was opened on them from another village further south; while the company moving towards the water in the khor ghoub were fired upon by the enemy on the ridges near. the fire was returned, and the mounted infantry fell back to the teselah hill, where they were ordered to join the cavalry, and return to no. zeriba for the night." the main body of the force reached the teselah hills at p.m., when the usual zeriba ( ) was formed. about a.m., on the rd, shots were fired into the camp from about to , yards. the moon was shining brightly, and the men at once stood to their arms, and the grenadier guards answered by a volley. this and a shrapnel shell silenced the enemy, not, however, before one of graham's men had been killed and two wounded. at . , on the rd, the troops were aroused, and the zeriba being left in charge of mcneill with the east surrey and shropshire regiments, the advance was resumed at eight. graham's object was to gain possession of a cluster of villages at new tamaai which had long been osman digna's head-quarters, and to secure the water supply, either by attacking the enemy's position, or by drawing them into an engagement on the open ground near the villages. the ground over which the men advanced was rough and broken. it was free from bush, but was intersected with deep gullies, and studded with jutting rocks and boulders. at . fire was opened at long range by about arabs on the mounted infantry and bengal cavalry in front. this was replied to. it soon became evident that the enemy were unable to oppose any serious resistance to the advance of the column. the force proceeded through the villages, which were found to have been recently deserted, and at . the crest of the north side of the khor ghoub was gained. the mounted infantry and bengal cavalry were all this time engaging the enemy on the right flank, but were unable to draw them from their positions. the nd brigade, under general hudson, now moved to the right, advanced across the khor ghoub, and ascended the hill on the opposite bank. the berkshire regiment, with the marines on their right, opened fire from the highest point in the centre of the hill, and the scots guards threw out a company to fire up the khor. the guards' brigade and australian regiment moved forward in support of the nd brigade, crowning the ridges on the north side of the khor. g battery of the royal horse artillery came into action on the left flank of the st brigade, and opened fire on some parties of the enemy. during those operations the enemy were keeping up a distant fire, which resulted in one man being killed, and one officer and fifteen men wounded. the enemy's numbers and loss it was impossible to estimate with any accuracy, but a steady, well-aimed fire was kept up on such bodies as showed themselves, and the effect of the fire was to overcome any opposition they may have intended to make. on descending to the bed of the khor it was found that at the spot where the previous year was running water, there were no signs of water beyond a little moisture, and well-holes partly filled in. by digging about four feet down only a small supply of brackish water could be obtained, and at a short distance there was a shallow pool on a bed of black mud. it is probable that this failure of the water supply had had much to do with the disappearance of osman digna's forces. graham's force had brought with it only three days' supply of water, and this failure of the wells at tamaai rendered it dangerous to advance against tamanieb, for should the wells there be found to be also waterless, the position of the army would become very serious. under these circumstances, and in view of the retirement of the enemy, and their evident inability or indisposition to meet the force, the general considered it best to withdraw, as it would have been fruitless to attempt to follow osman digna into the mountainous country with no water for the transport animals. at . a.m. graham ordered the withdrawal of the force, by alternate brigades, from the position which had been taken up. by . a.m. the troops had recrossed the khor, the movement being covered by two horse artillery guns on the ridge to the north, which fired a few rounds of shrapnel at detached parties of the enemy. new tamaai was ordered to be destroyed, and it was fired as the troops retired through it. considerable quantities of ammunition were destroyed. osman digna's residence is believed to have been among the huts burnt. at noon the force reached no. zeriba at the teselah hill. as the troops fell back a handful of arabs made their way, parallel to the line of march, along the distant hills to the right, keeping up a running fire on the british column. from zeriba no. the force moved gradually back to the other zeriba, and thence to souakim. the total casualties were one man killed and six wounded. only seven men fell out during the march. it was a severe disappointment to the troops that, after all their exertions, the marches in the blazing sun to and from the zeribas, and the loss of life in previous engagements, the enemy should refuse to await the attack, and that the want of water should prevent the column following him up. the temporary occupation, followed by the destruction, of a wretched village, was a very inadequate result to show after such extensive preparation, and so much labour and effort. from the th to the th april, graham was occupied in making reconnaissances to hasheen, otao, deberet, and tambouk, taking a few prisoners, and capturing sheep and cattle. the construction of the railway was at the same time pushed forward, till it was close to otao, making altogether a total distance of eighteen miles. meanwhile, osman digna's followers amused themselves cutting the telegraph wires and damaging the railway works as opportunities offered. they also made nightly attacks on graham's camp. in order to check this, a series of automatic mines, to explode when trodden on, was placed outside the british lines. it does not appear that this measure answered the purpose intended, although an accidental explosion of one of the mines resulted in the loss of a promising young officer, lieutenant askwith, of the royal engineers. osman digna's exact position at this period seems to have been somewhat of a puzzle to graham, but on the nd he was able to telegraph that osman was for the time without any large following, and that his people were greatly discouraged by their losses in the various engagements, and also in want of food. the question of withdrawing the expedition now arose. graham was most unwilling to retire without having achieved something decisive, and on the th he telegraphed that he strongly recommended crushing osman before the expedition should be withdrawn. he added, that with osman crushed, the country would be at peace, and the native allies safe; whereas if the british force were withdrawn he would soon become as strong as ever, would threaten souakim, and punish the friendly tribes. in the beginning of may lord wolseley arrived at souakim and from that moment the question of what was to be done was taken out of graham's hands. the government had made up its mind, so far as such an operation was possible, not to go on with the railway to berber at all events for the present, and the inutility of keeping the expedition in souakim in face of the policy of abandoning the soudan, referred to in the following chapter, generally, naturally struck lord wolseley. on the th may he telegraphed to lord hartington that if it was positively decided not to push forward the railway as part of the campaign against the mahdi at khartoum, he advised the immediate embarkation of the guards, the navvies, and australians, leaving only the indian contingent and one british battalion for a garrison at souakim. he added, on the th, that the heat was increasing, and the men of the expedition would soon become sickly; that he did not think the further operations wished for by graham were, in face of the hot weather, desirable. among other suggestions he proposed to the government to send back to england the ships laden with railway material, and to take up the railway before the troops fell back. this despatch suggests the idea that wolseley was beginning to get a little tired of giving advice to a government which was always asking his opinion and never acting upon it. on the th he was instructed that the government adhered to the decision to adopt the proposal for defence of the frontier in his despatch of th april, but that the government did not approve of his suggestion to take up the railway and ship off the plant; but that he should arrange to hold the line, pending consideration whether it would be carried onwards. this last despatch was too much for wolseley, who appears to have thought it hard enough to have to carry out a policy of which he disapproved, without having the initiation of it attributed to himself; and in his despatch of the th he replied, "what you term my proposals, were the military dispositions recommended in order to give effect to your policy at souakim, to stop the railway, and send away as many troops as could be spared for service elsewhere. if the garrison here is to be seriously reduced, the railway must be either taken up or abandoned." he added, "unless you have some clearly defined soudan policy to initiate, any military operations, such as the extension of the railway would entail, would be to throw away uselessly valuable lives." on the th wolseley was instructed that the government adopted the dispositions recommended in his telegram of the th. this was followed by preparations for the immediate embarkation of the expedition. before this, graham had on the th made a raid on takool, a village ten miles south of otao, and twenty west of souakim, and driven out the enemy, reported to be strong. graham's force burnt takool, and captured between , and , sheep and goats in this the last exploit of the campaign. the railway works were now discontinued, the troops called in from otao, and the navvies withdrawn. as the last truckload came in from the front, it was followed and fired on by jeering soudanese. the store-ships, which had for weeks been lying in the roads with rails, plant, and machinery not yet unloaded, were ordered back to england with their cargoes. on the th may graham and his staff left souakim with the coldstream guards. the grenadiers, as well as the australians and scots guards, sailed the following day. the remainder of the troops followed shortly after, and before the end of the month the whole of the expedition, with the exception of the shropshire regiment and a portion of the indian contingent, had left souakim. of the results obtained by the expedition, there is but little to say. its departure left osman digna still uncrushed, and the souakim-berber route still unopened; and osman was enabled in to boast, as he had done in , that he had driven the british out of the country.[ ] this expedition was of far greater strength than its predecessor, and it is no disparagement to the officers and men engaged in it to say that their exploits did not equal those of the expedition of . tamaai, handoub, and other positions had been taken and occupied temporarily, and a small portion of the railway had been made. this represented about the sum total of results.[ ] chapter li. evacuation. towards the end of march, , the force at korti was gradually withdrawn to the town of dongola, where wolseley again fixed his head-quarters. a small garrison of black troops only was left at korti. the detachment at merawi, under colonel butler, still remained there as a rear guard. although it had been decided to postpone further operations until the autumn, there is no reason to suppose that wolseley entertained any idea that the enterprise against berber and khartoum was ever going to be abandoned. but early in april an unexpected contingency had to be reckoned with. on th april mr. gladstone announced to the house of commons the russian attack on the afghan frontier, and the calling out of the reserves in the united kingdom. this led the british government to reconsider the whole question of the soudan expedition, and wolseley was instructed to proceed to cairo and confer with sir e. baring and general stephenson on the military situation. on th april, lord hartington telegraphed to wolseley as follows:-- "in the condition of imperial affairs it is probable that the expedition to khartoum may have to be abandoned, and the troops brought back as soon as possible to egypt. consider at once what measures should, in that case, be taken for safe withdrawal of troops. this would involve stopping advance from souakim, but not hurried withdrawal." on the th april wolseley telegraphed that in the event of the government determining to withdraw the troops from the soudan, before completion of arrangements he must know whether it was intended to retain dongola, wady halfa, korosko, or assouan, as the frontier post. he said that if the position on the southern frontier of egypt was to be exclusively one of defence, he would hold wady halfa and korosko as outposts, with a strong brigade at assouan. there would be no difficulty in withdrawing troops, but for the position in egypt it was most essential that the announcement of withdrawal should be accompanied by an authoritative statement that the government was determined to maintain a british garrison. the next day wolseley telegraphed his opinion on the question of withdrawal, strongly advising the retention of dongola. his message, omitting irrelevant passages, was as follows:-- "at, and south of assouan, i have about , british fighting soldiers. retreat policy will require at least , on the frontier, leaving , available. for the sake of this handful, is it advisable to reverse soudan policy? retreat from dongola hands that province over to the mahdi, and renders loyalty of ababdehs and other frontier tribes very doubtful. withdraw graham's force if necessary; this will not seriously disturb egypt; but hold on to dongola province." there are few unprejudiced persons who will not agree in the soundness of the views above expressed. the reply was as follows:-- "_war office, april th, ._ "your telegrams of the th and th received. decision will probably be to adopt proposal for defence of egyptian frontier at wady halfa and assouan, as in your telegram of th. it is desirable that troops not required for this purpose should be concentrated as soon as possible, and available for any other service." the government at this time had fully made up their minds to withdraw from the soudan altogether as early as possible. wolseley, on the other hand, was anxious that before this step should be finally taken, the mahdi should be crushed once for all, and in a very able despatch, dated the th april, set forth his views. the document, which reads very like a protest against the policy of the gladstone cabinet, omitting some passages, is as follows:-- "both from a military and financial point of view, and also with regard to the general well-being of egypt proper, the growing power of the mahdi must be met, not by a purely defensive policy on the frontier, whether at assouan or wady halfa, but by his overthrow in the neighbourhood of khartoum." the despatch concludes:-- "to sum up. the struggle with the mahdi, or rather, perhaps, with mahdi-ism, must come sooner or later. we can accept it now, and have done with it once and for all, or we can allow all the military reputation we have gained at the cost of so much toil and hard fighting, all the bloodshed and all the expenditure of the past campaign, to go for nothing, and try and stave the final struggle off for a few years. these years will be years of trouble and disturbance for egypt, of burden and strain to our military resources, and the contest that will come in the end will be no less than that which is in front of us now. this is all we shall gain by a defensive policy." the afghan question still troubled the ministry, and on the th april lord hartington telegraphed that the "government were about to announce that it was necessary to hold all the military resources of the empire, including the forces in the soudan, available for service wherever required. the government would not," he said, "therefore make provision for further offensive operations in the soudan, or for military preparations for an early advance on khartoum, beyond such as could not be stopped with advantage, and did not involve hostile action, viz., river steamboats contracted for, and the completion of the wady halfa railway. as to ulterior steps, the government reserved their liberty of action. with the cessation of active operations on the nile, any considerable extension of the souakim-berber railway was to be suspended; but as souakim must be held for the present, it might be necessary to occupy one or more stations in the neighbourhood, and the government would retain a garrison in egypt, and defend the frontier." on the rd april wolseley proposed that he should go to souakim in order to form an opinion on the spot as to the points which it would be desirable to hold. this was approved by the government, and on the th wolseley communicated the arrangements made for the disposition of the nile force in his absence as follows:-- "on st june, troops at merawi start for dongola, at which place and abu fatmeh i propose to concentrate force now up the nile. this movement will be completed by st july. "in the meantime, railway to ferket will be in a forward state, and able to assist greatly in the movement of troops and civil government officers on wady halfa. at present nearly all the troops are in huts; to move them in this present hot weather will be very trying to their health. "when troops are concentrated at dongola and abu fatmeh i shall expect orders before i move them to wady halfa." on the th april wolseley was informed that he was to act in accordance with the proposals contained in his telegram of the th. the concentration, he was instructed, should be deliberate, but the movement from merawi was to begin at once. wolseley and his staff left cairo on april th and immediately embarked for souakim. general buller and sir charles wilson being asked their opinions, both reported strongly against a withdrawal from dongola, and their views were supported by sir evelyn baring. all argument, however, was in vain. the government remained unconvinced. in the beginning of may the merawi detachment moved down to dongola, and on the th the evacuation of the latter place commenced. the soudan having to be abandoned, the government evinced some desire to consider how far some sort of government could be set on foot for the province of dongola. sir e. baring, to whom a question was addressed on the subject, referred to wolseley and general buller. the former, regarding the matter from a military point of view, replied that a railway ought to be made to hannek (just below the town of new dongola), and the end of the line held by a british battalion, and dongola itself should be garrisoned by , black troops. the present "wekil," according to wolseley, should be appointed mudir. "it was safer," added his lordship, "to attempt this than to hand dongola over to the mahdi and anarchy." buller replied that he did not think it possible to establish a government as proposed, and that the first thing to be considered was who was to take charge of it. his opinion was that no force of blacks that could be got together would be sufficient to hold the province. he added that he did not believe the railway to hannek to be anything but a waste of money; it would besides require all the present force as a covering party; he believed the british were withdrawing just as the fruit was falling into their hands; concluding with the sentence, "i do not believe that when we leave dongola any one else will keep the mahdi out." sir e. baring, in forwarding the above opinions, said that "in view of the decision of the government he thought that instructions should be given to send down all troops, and as many of the civil population as wished to leave, to wady halfa," and concluded in the following words:-- "your lordship will understand that we make this recommendation only because we consider it to be the necessary consequence of the decision of her majesty's government to abandon the province of dongola at once, but that it must in no way be taken to imply our agreement with that decision. "nubar pasha, on behalf of the egyptian government, requests me to make a final and most earnest appeal to the government of her majesty to postpone the departure of the british troops from dongola for, say, six months, in order that there may be at least a chance of establishing a government there. "nubar pasha fears that the retreat of the british from dongola will react on egypt, and especially on the southern provinces, to such an extent as will render it impossible for the khedive's government to maintain order, and that they will be forced to appeal to her majesty's government for help to preserve order in the country, and that thus the present system of government which her majesty's government have been at so much trouble to maintain will be found no longer possible." nubar's appeal had no effect, and the question of the future government of dongola occupied the british cabinet no more. on the th may, sir e. baring was informed that it was the intention to withdraw the whole force to wady halfa. on the th wolseley telegraphed his idea as to the british force which should remain at korosko and wady halfa. this was approved by the government, and the troops continued their journey down the nile. the departure of the soldiers from dongola was accompanied by the exodus of a large portion of the native population, who feared to be left exposed to the vengeance of the mahdi. mr. gladstone's ministry retired from office on th june, and on the conservative cabinet coming into power, one of the first questions with which it occupied itself was that of egypt. it was impossible for the ministry of lord salisbury to at once reverse the egyptian policy of their predecessors, but the new premier declared that "england had a mission in egypt, and that until it was accomplished it was idle to talk of withdrawal." the evacuation of the soudan, however, stood on a different footing. the steps taken by mr. gladstone's government were so far advanced that the measure was already practically a _fait accompli_. as lord salisbury stated, "the whole of the soudan down to dongola had been already evacuated, and the whole of the province of dongola, with the exception of a rear-guard left at debbeh, had been evacuated also; and , of the luckless population, to avoid the vengeance of the mahdi, had fled from their houses and taken refuge in upper egypt." it was not, however, without inquiry that lord salisbury's cabinet determined to proceed with the evacuation. wolseley was again consulted, and in a despatch of th june he wrote:-- "you cannot get out of egypt for many years to come. if the present policy of retreat be persisted in the mahdi will become stronger and stronger, and you will have to increase your garrisons and submit to the indignity of being threatened by him. eventually you will have to fight him to hold your position in egypt, which you will then do with the population round you ready on any reverse to rise against you. no frontier force can keep mahdism out of egypt, and the mahdi sooner or later must be smashed, or he will smash you. "to advance in the autumn on khartoum and discredit the mahdi by a serious defeat on his own ground would certainly finish him. the operation, if done deliberately, would be a simple one; and, as far as anything can be a certainty in war, it would be a certainty. until this is done there will be no peace in egypt, and your military expenditure will be large and increasing. my advice, therefore, is, carry out autumn campaign up the nile, as originally intended. i would leave souakim as it is." on the nd july the government telegraphed that-- "her majesty's government, after a full consideration of all the circumstances, were not prepared to reverse the orders given by their predecessors by countermanding the retreat of the force from dongola." thus the policy of evacuation was affirmed. general brackenbury with the last of the rear-guard left dongola on the th, and followed the rest of the troops down to cairo. on the th july wolseley handed over the command of the british troops to general stephenson, and in a few weeks the greater part of the officers and men forming the expedition had left egypt. the services of the officers and men forming the gordon relief expedition were referred to by lord salisbury on the th august in moving in the house of lords a vote of thanks in the following words:-- "in considering their merits you must keep out of sight altogether the precise results and outcome of the labours they have gone through and the dangers they have incurred. of course this is not the moment at which to broach controversial topics, and i only wish to say that you must look upon this fact--that they failed to fulfil the main purpose for which they were sent out through no fault of their own. the prize of success was taken from them, as it were by an overmastering destiny, by the action of causes, whatever their nature, over which they themselves had no more control than they would have over a tempest or earthquake."[ ] there can be no doubt that lord salisbury's eulogium was well deserved. the merits of the officers and men were unquestionable. that they did not succeed was owing to the incapacity of those who sent them, at the wrong time, by the wrong route, on their fruitless errand. chapter lii. continuation. the preceding chapter brings the narrative down to the summer of , at which period the first edition of the present work was brought to a close. in the final chapter the errors of british policy in egypt were dealt with. it was pointed out how the dilatory fashion in which england intervened to suppress the arabi revolt led to its indefinite prolongation; how when alexandria had been destroyed, and massacres had taken place all over the country, a british army was sent too late to avert these disasters; how when the arabi insurrection had been put down, and that of the mahdi took its place, england reduced the army of occupation, and left egypt to attempt to cope single-handed with the revolt; how in , when tokar and sinkat were cut off, england sent an army to the relief of those places only in time to find that they had already fallen; how when many british lives had been sacrificed, and thousands of soudanese had been slaughtered in the eastern soudan, england, instead of crushing osman digna and opening the route to berber, withdrew her troops only to send another expedition in the following year, when too late to accomplish those very objects; finally, how, having sent gordon to bring away the garrisons in the soudan, england, again too late, despatched an expedition to his rescue. the feeble manner in which the reform of egyptian institutions had been taken in hand was also indicated, and it was pointed out how england, by declaring that her stay in the country was only to be short-lived, added to the difficulty of carrying any of such reforms into effect. with regard to the drummond-wolff convention of the th october, , it was foretold that the inquiry provided for into egyptian affairs would be illusory, and the withdrawal of the army of occupation, which the convention was to effect, was one of those events which might safely be relegated to the remote future. it was pointed out that, whatever the future of egypt under british guidance might be, it was impossible that it could be marked by greater errors than had been witnessed in the past, and, in conclusion, advice was given in the words following:-- "put the administration really, instead of nominally and half-heartedly, under english control. discard all idea of going away in two years, or twenty years, or two hundred years, if the country is not brought to order and prosperity by that time. declare that as long as england remains she will be responsible for egyptian finances, and for the safety and property of europeans. simplify as much as possible the official staff and system, and take proper steps for securing whatever point may be needed as the frontier." it is satisfactory to be able to observe that since the above was written much has been done in the way of following the author's recommendations. the firm attitude adopted with regard to egypt by lord salisbury's ministry on its accession to office in has been maintained by succeeding governments, and with the happiest results. one egyptian administration after another has been taken in hand, abuses have been suppressed, corruption reduced to a minimum, and order and regularity introduced. the finances have been placed on a sound footing; reforms have been everywhere inaugurated; and tranquillity reigns throughout the country, which has arrived at a pitch of prosperity such as in modern times it has never before attained. in addition, as a result of the improvements made in her military system, egypt, with england's aid, has been enabled to suppress a formidable insurrection, and to regain the most valuable of her lost provinces. the different steps by which all this has been brought about may be gleaned, partially at least, from the following pages. [illustration] chapter liii. the mahdist invasion. it was not unnatural that the retirement of the gordon relief expedition, in , should have inspired the mahdi with the idea that the moment had now arrived for the fulfilment of what he regarded as part of his divine mission, viz., the invasion of egypt. two british armies had been sent, in two successive years, to the eastern soudan, and both, after a certain amount of fighting, had been withdrawn, whilst a third, despatched for the relief of khartoum, had, when almost at the gates of khartoum, been forced to retrace its steps, and retreat down the nile. what ensued was only the result foretold by lord wolseley when he prophetically declared to her majesty's government that "the struggle with the mahdi, or rather with mahdism, must come sooner or later. eventually you will have to fight him to hold your position in egypt. no frontier force can keep mahdism out of egypt, and the mahdi, sooner or later, must be smashed, or he will smash you."[ ] when, as stated in another chapter, the last of the british troops left dongola on th july, , an egyptian frontier field force, composed of british and egyptian troops, was formed, and placed under the command of major-general grenfell, sir evelyn wood's successor as sirdar of the egyptian army. his head-quarters were fixed at assouan, whilst brigadier-general butler commanded the advanced brigade at wady halfa, with outposts at kosheh, about forty-two miles south of the railway terminus at akasheh. the mahdi's plans for the invasion of egypt were formed as early as may, in fact, as soon as he was able to make sure of the break-up of the nile expedition. the idea was to make the advance in two river columns, under the command of the emirs abd-el-medjid and mohammed-el-kheir respectively, who were to march on wady halfa, whilst a third column was to cross the desert from abu hamid to korosko, thus cutting the communications of the defensive force at wady halfa. the death of the mahdi in the month of june by no means interfered with the carrying out of this programme, his successor, the khalifa abdullah-el-taaishi, being almost as capable a leader as his predecessor, and even more oppressive and unscrupulous. notwithstanding that omdurman, which had become the khalifa's capital, was ravaged by famine and small-pox, the preparations for the advance continued, and by the early part of august debbeh and old dongola were occupied by the forces of abd-el-medjid, numbering , men. by the end of the month the whole of the country south of dongola was in the hands of the khalifa's troops. on the th, wad-en-nejumi, one of the chief emirs, was reported as having left omdurman with a large force, going north. it must not be supposed that the expedition was popular with the khalifa's soldiers, but unfortunately they had no choice in the matter. they are said to have declared, "our brothers are dead; the english shoot well, and we have nothing to eat." from dongola the invaders proceeded north along the nile, till, on the th september, they had reached as far as hafir. the dervish forces at that place, and at dongola, were estimated at , by the beginning of october. meanwhile, another army was marching on abu hamid, where , men arrived in the latter part of october. seeing that the dervish attack was impending, steps were taken to meet the emergency. two gunboats were sent to patrol the river above akasheh, and the post at that place was strengthened by the sending of a force of egyptian mounted infantry, and a half battalion of black troops. on the th october general grenfell telegraphed from assouan to general stephenson for another battalion to be sent him from cairo, adding, "we should now look upon an advance on egypt as merely a question of time, and be thoroughly prepared." on th november, captain hunter (now sir archibald hunter), of the intelligence department, reported that , of the enemy had crossed to abu fatmeh, and that everything indicated an immediate advance. on the next day news was received that the enemy was advancing on both banks, mohammed-el-kheir on the east, and abd-el-medjid on the west, with the object of cutting off the communications of the advanced force, and preventing reinforcements reaching it. a few days later, viz., on the th, it became known that , dervishes had reached dulgo,[ ] and that the advanced guard was at absarat, whence it was to march on khanak, to cut the wady haifa railway. on the th, it was reported that , of the enemy were occupying the heights near ammara, a few miles south of ginnis, and that , more were now at abu hamid. three days afterwards a spy gave information that , mounted men had left by the desert for the north of akasheh, and that another thousand had crossed the river to the west bank, the intention being to make a simultaneous attack on kosheh, akasheh, and the railway. the news of the dervish advance now caused widespread alarm in cairo, as well as in egypt generally, and, to preserve public order, the police force had to be reinforced, more especially in the frontier provinces. steps were, at the same time, taken to strengthen the army of occupation by sending two additional battalions from the united kingdom. on the th november, general butler and his staff left wady halfa for the front at akasheh, and general grenfell moved up to wady halfa. at this date the frontier force was disposed as follows:--at kosheh, british and egyptians; at mograkeh, egyptians; at sarkamatto and dal, egyptians; at akasheh, british and egyptians; and at wady halfa, british and egyptians; total, , men. in addition to these, small detachments were posted at ambigol wells, sarras, and other places. a skirmish, which took place at ginnis on the th, showed that the main body of the enemy was posted in front of kosheh, where it had arrived on the previous day.[ ] on the rd december, captain hunter engaged the advance party of the enemy, with gardner guns and rifles, with considerable effect, several horsemen and foot-soldiers being killed. meanwhile an attempt had been made by the dervishes to cut the line of communications at ambigol wells, where a small post of only thirty men of the berkshire and west kent regiments was established in a fort. the dervish force attacked with men, mounted and on foot, and one gun. they were driven off with some loss on the nd december, but on the two following days returned to the attack. several sorties were made by the little garrison, until the arrival of reinforcements on the th caused the besiegers to retire. at . a.m. on the th, , dervishes attacked a fort constructed at mograkeh, near kosheh, and got within yards of it. the garrison of the fort, consisting of men of the egyptian army, behaved with great steadiness, and repulsed the attack. after the skirmish, the enemy moved to the village of ferket, a place on the river north of ginnis, and occupied it, from this point they retired to the hills. two men killed and half a dozen wounded represented the egyptian loss. this was followed, on the night of the th, by a further attack on kosheh from a battery erected on sand hills on the western bank, which was silenced, and the attacking force driven off on the th. all the posts were now rapidly reinforced. general grenfell had already arrived at wady halfa on the th december, and on the th december general stephenson came from cairo and assumed the command of the frontier force, with grenfell as chief of the staff. arrangements were promptly made to inflict a crushing blow on the enemy, who, encouraged by the slight resistance to their advance hitherto made, had pushed their foremost troops north of the village of ginnis, where the main body was established. at the same time, about , men, with a gun, threatened the zeriba on the west bank, held by the egyptian troops. on the th, generals stephenson and grenfell marched from ferket and bivouacked on the east bank below the fort of kosheh, where the whole of the fighting force was by this time concentrated. the troops consisted of--_cavalry_, th hussars; british mounted infantry and camel corps; egyptian cavalry and camel corps: _artillery_, battery royal artillery; egyptian camel battery and gardner guns: _royal engineers_, company: _infantry_, st brigade, under general butler--berkshire regiment, west kent regiment, and durham regiment; nd brigade, under colonel huyshe--cameron highlanders; yorkshire regiment; st and th battalions (part only) of the egyptian army. total, about , men. on the morning of the th, stephenson attacked and defeated the khalifa's forces at kosheh and the neighbouring village of ginnis. on the two preceding days, artillery fire had been kept up on the enemy's position. at a.m. on the th, the whole force advanced. by daylight the nd brigade and the st egyptian battalion had taken up a strong position on the heights above kosheh, at a distance of about , yards from, and directly opposite, the village. at . a.m. the british battery attached to this brigade began to shell kosheh. a quarter of an hour later the cameron highlanders and two companies of the th soudanese rushed the houses in gallant style. the village was captured, together with a brass gun, at . a.m. the gunboat _lotus_ co-operated in this movement, and by her fire inflicted considerable loss on the retreating dervishes. whilst this was going on, the st brigade, under butler, had swept round to the south end of the village of ginnis, and by daybreak had gained a position on the hills about a mile from the river. up to this time, the advance made along the flank of the enemy's position had escaped observation, but as the eastern sky behind the advancing troops brightened, the dervishes, who were completely surprised, came out from the low ground along the river, and streamed to the front. thence they opened an irregular fire, which, in spite of the martini-henrys of the brigade, was maintained for about forty minutes. in the meanwhile, the egyptian battery, attached to the st brigade, had been brought into action on the right of the position, and was doing good service. the infantry deploying in line, the west kent on the right, and the berkshire and durham regiments on the left of the guns, kept up a steady fire, assisted by the egyptian camel corps. notwithstanding the volleys of the martini-henrys, a large body of spearmen managed to creep up unobserved, through a deep ravine in front of the line of infantry, to a spot where the dismounted camels of the egyptian camel corps had been placed. the spearmen then made so rapid a rush that the men of the camel corps had not time to mount, and so were driven back fighting hand to hand with their assailants, who pressed them closely. the west kent regiment, which on the attack developing had been moved to the left of the line, came to the assistance of the camel corps, and shooting down numbers of the enemy, the rest fell back and fled to the hills. the brigade, then swinging round to the left, was directed upon the village of ginnis, and, though time after time attempts at a stand were made, the enemy were eventually all dispersed, and at . the village was occupied, the dervishes fleeing south, in the direction of atab. the nd brigade, after disposing of kosheh, had continued its advance in the direction of ginnis, which it entered on the eastern side, a quarter of an hour after the st brigade had taken possession. the cavalry went in pursuit of the fugitives until a.m., and by that time the dervish army had been dissolved into a mass of disorganized and terror-stricken arabs. many of them crossed over to the west bank and escaped into the desert. the camp at ginnis was seized, and four guns and twenty standards captured. the british and egyptian loss in the fight was only seven killed and thirty-four wounded, and if, as estimated, out of a force of , men, the khalifa's troops had killed and wounded, it must be admitted that the engagement partook more of the nature of a _battu_ than a battle. after the fight, and on the same day, the st brigade advanced to atab, five miles to the west of giniss, whilst the cavalry continued the pursuit to abri, which on the following day was occupied by buller's brigade. the action at ginnis was a serious check to the khalifa. not only had his emir abd-el-medjid with eighteen minor chiefs been killed, but the prestige which the mahdi's successor enjoyed amongst his followers had also sustained a severe blow. the remainder of his scattered-forces was now collected at kermeh, about miles north of dongola, where, under the command of mohammed-el-kheir, they awaited reinforcements. chapter liv. finance, the suez canal, and the army of occupation. in the year , each of the subjects mentioned in the heading of the present chapter came prominently to the front. in the following pages it is proposed to deal with the different matters in succession. _finance._ in july, , egypt, thanks to the good offices of great britain, was enabled to arrange a very thorny question which had arisen with regard to her finance. to explain what occurred, it is necessary to refer to the events which had previously taken place. under the financial decrees of ismail pasha, certain revenues were assigned to the public debt commissioners to provide for the interest and sinking fund of the debt. although, by the law of liquidation accepted by the powers in , the rate of interest was reduced, the provision for the sinking fund was left untouched, and the result was that the debt was gradually reduced by about a million. this, however, was too good a state of things to last. the expenses caused by the insurrection in the soudan, the necessity of providing for the payment of the alexandria indemnities, and other pressing claims, not only rendered it impossible for egypt to continue the reduction of her existing debt, but made it indispensable to contract a fresh one in the shape of a new loan. in march, , at the invitation of lord granville, a conference of the great powers was held in london to discuss the situation. to purchase the goodwill of france, what became known as "the anglo-french convention" was entered into. by this, subject to the acceptance by the powers of the british financial proposals, the british troops in egypt were to be withdrawn at a fixed date, unless the powers, in the meantime, should agree to their remaining. lord granville pointed out the absurdity of egypt continuing to pay off her old debts at a moment when the funds at her disposal were insufficient to meet her current expenditure. the british proposals, which involved not only a suspension of the sinking fund, but also a further diminution in the rate of interest, were opposed by the french representative; and lord granville, in a somewhat summary manner, dissolved the conference. lord northbrook was then despatched to egypt as high commissioner, and in september, , no means having been discovered of relieving the financial tension, the egyptian government, under his advice, adopted the strong measure of directing the governors of the provinces, as well as the heads of the customs and railway administrations, to pay directly to the treasury the balance of their receipts for the current half-year (which closed on the th october), instead of to the "caisse" of the debt. it is worthy of remark that there was at this time sufficient money in the "caisse" to pay the interest on the debt, and the funds intercepted would simply have gone to swell the sinking fund. the step, nevertheless, was a clear violation of the existing arrangements between egypt and her creditors, and naturally raised a storm. protests rained in from all quarters; and some of the powers, notably france, germany, and russia, used strong language. the commissioners of the debt also attacked the khedive's ministers in the mixed tribunals. the egyptian government, realizing that it had got into a "tight place," again by british advice, meekly bowed its head and directed the payments to the "caisse" to be resumed. the cairo mixed tribunal on the th december gave judgment directing the government to refund the money diverted. this they were absolutely unable to do, and an appeal was lodged, partly to gain time and partly because the negotiations with the powers, abruptly broken off by lord granville, had been in the meantime renewed. at last, on the th march, , "the london convention" came to the aid of nubar pasha and his cabinet. the effect of this agreement and the declarations dated the th march annexed to it was that the powers acquiesced in the issue of a new loan of £ , , . foreigners were made liable to certain taxes, and the law of liquidation was modified. further than this, the mixed tribunals were declared incompetent to proceed with the action against the government. on th july, , a decree embodying these terms was signed, and a situation full of embarrassment was happily put an end to. _the suez canal._ it should be mentioned that in the declarations annexed to "the london convention" was one which provided that a commission composed of delegates of the great powers should assemble at an early date to consider the measures to be adopted to secure the free navigation of the suez canal in time of war. what possible connection there was between this question and that of egyptian finance it is hard to say, but, the engagement having been made, it had to be carried out, and the negotiations were at once taken in hand. the international commission for dealing with the matter held its first sitting in paris on the th march, , and proceeded to discuss the various points involved. as stated in a previous chapter, the attention of the powers had been called to the matter by lord granville, then foreign secretary, as far back as the rd january, , though thus far no progress had been made. by the th june, , the commission had agreed on the text of a convention by which the freedom of navigation of the canal in war-time was to be secured, and the commission then concluded its sittings. it should be mentioned that the british delegates, in approving the arrangement, formally declared that they did so under express reservation against the application of any of the clauses which might be incompatible with the existing situation in egypt, or which might fetter the action of her majesty's government or the movements of her majesty's forces during the british occupation of egypt. from the date last mentioned, the question was under discussion by the respective governments till more than three years later, when the convention was concluded, and finally ratified by the powers on the nd december, . the principal provisions of the convention were the following, viz.:-- that the canal should be open to both merchant vessels and men-of-war both in time of war and peace; that the canal should not be subject to the exercise of the right of blockade; that no act of hostility should be committed in the canal, its ports of access, or within a radius of three miles; that vessels of belligerents should only take in supplies so far as they were actually necessary, and that their stay in port should be limited to twenty-four hours; that the like interval should elapse between the sailing of a belligerent vessel and the departure of a vessel of a hostile power; that no belligerent power should disembark or embark either troops or munitions of war; that no vessel of war belonging to the contracting powers should be stationed in the canal, and not more than two at port saïd or suez; that the restrictions imposed should not apply to measures which the sultan or the khedive might take for the defence of egypt by their own forces or for the maintenance of public order; and that no fortifications should be erected. referring to a former chapter dealing with m. de. lesseps' contention as to the neutrality of the canal, it is worthy of note that in no part of the convention does the word "neutrality" occur, and it is a fact that in lord salisbury's instructions to the british delegates they were expressly warned to avoid using that expression and to substitute for it the term "freedom of navigation." _the army of occupation._ in august, , the continued presence of the army of occupation (then , in number) had for some time been producing increased irritation on the part of the sultan, and also of the french government. sir h. drummond-wolff was then sent to the east with the object of endeavouring to arrive at some understanding with regard to the withdrawal of the british troops. the british envoy was also, in combination with the turkish commissioner moukhtar pasha, to consider the steps to be taken for tranquillizing the soudan, and to inquire what changes might be necessary in the civil administration of egypt. the british commissioner was received by the sultan on th august, and having signed a preliminary convention with the turkish minister of foreign affairs at constantinople, came on to cairo two months later, where he was joined by his colleague. their joint inquiry lasted till the end of , and resulted in various suggestions which were not adopted. in january, , the sultan, backed by france, was pressing the british government to name a day for the evacuation, and, with a view to meeting his views as far as possible, a definite convention on the subject was signed by the two commissioners on the nd may, . according to this agreement, the british troops were to withdraw at the end of three years, unless at the expiration of that period external or internal danger should render the postponement of the evacuation necessary, in which case the troops were to be withdrawn as soon as the danger should have disappeared. two years after the withdrawal, the supervision exercised by great britain over the egyptian army was to cease. thenceforward egypt was to enjoy territorial immunity, and, on the ratification of the convention, the powers were to be invited to recognize and guarantee the inviolability of egyptian territory. nevertheless, the convention continued, the turkish government was to have the right to occupy the country militarily if there should be danger from invasion without, or if order and security were threatened within. on the other hand, the british government reserved the right to send, in the above-mentioned cases, troops which would take the measures necessary to remove those dangers. lastly, both the ottoman and british troops were to withdraw as soon as the causes calling for their intervention should be removed. the essential point in the agreement was the recognition, by the sultan, of england's right to reoccupy egypt, on emergency, and this at once gave rise to trouble. as soon as the terms of the convention were communicated to the french government, the french ambassador was rampant everywhere, and both he and his russian colleague at constantinople made the most violent opposition. they lost no opportunity of putting pressure on the sultan, who at first was disposed to abide by the arrangement. they went so far as to declare that, if he ratified the convention, france and russia would thereby have a right to occupy provinces of the turkish empire, and to leave only after a similar convention should be concluded with them. they also hinted that france might do this in syria, and russia in armenia. austria, germany, and italy, on the other hand, urged the ratification of the convention, but the poor sultan was too much alarmed to consent, and, on the th july, proposed to england to throw over the agreement which his ministers had signed, and to reopen negotiations for a new convention altogether. this was a little too much for lord salisbury, then foreign secretary and prime minister. needless to say the mission of the british envoy, upon which £ , in money and two years in time had been wasted, came to an end, and sir h. drummond-wolff, who had already been waiting for a month to obtain the desired ratification, left constantinople on the th. his colleague, moukhtar pasha, whose occupation was now gone, nevertheless remained in egypt, where he is to be found at the present date, drawing a handsome salary, but with no defined duties. the failure of the negotiations was probably as little regretted by lord salisbury as it was by everybody else having the welfare of egypt at heart. although the time may arrive when that country will be in a position to walk alone, in (the period fixed for the withdrawal of the army of occupation) that time had not been reached. the reforms inaugurated were then only beginning to bear fruit, and, without the supporting influence afforded by the presence of british troops, ran the risk of being only imperfectly carried into effect, even if they did not perish altogether. it must be conceded that, considered merely as a military force, the presence of the army of occupation has for years ceased to be necessary. british ministers have over and over again declared that england's intervention in egypt was for the purpose of suppressing anarchy, supporting the authority of the khedive, and restoring public order. no one can deny that all these objects have long since been attained, and those who attempt to justify the retention of the british troops on the supposition that their withdrawal might be followed by fresh troubles adopt an argument similar to that of a person who, having extinguished a conflagration in his neighbour's house, should persist in occupying it on the pretence that the fire might break out again. but regarded as a moral support to england in carrying out her extended programme of reforming egyptian institutions, the presence of the army of occupation may be for some time to come a necessity. writing on this subject, sir alfred milner, in his admirable work "england in egypt," remarks as follows:-- "the british troops have of course no sort of status in the country. they are not the soldiers of the khedive, or foreign soldiers invited by the khedive; they are not the soldiers of the protecting power, because in theory there is no protecting power. in theory, their presence is an accident, and their character that of simple visitors. at the present moment they are no longer, from the military point of view, of vital importance, for their numbers have been repeatedly reduced, and for several years past they have not exceeded, and do not now ( ) exceed, , men. it is true that their presence relieves a certain portion of the egyptian army from duties it would otherwise have to perform, and that, if the british troops were altogether withdrawn, the number of egyptian soldiers might have to be somewhat increased. but its value as part of the defensive forces of the country does not, of course, constitute the real importance and meaning of the british army of occupation. it is as the outward and visible sign of the predominance of british influence, of the special interest taken by great britain in the affairs of egypt, that that army is such an important element in the present situation. its moral effect is out of all proportion to its actual strength. the presence of a single british regiment lends a weight they would not otherwise possess to the counsels of the british consul-general. take the troops away, and you must either run the risk of a decline of british influence, which would imperil the work of reform, or devise, for a time at least, some new and equivalent support for that influence, a problem not perhaps impossible, but certainly difficult of solution." chapter lv. the eastern soudan. any history of the military operations in egypt, during the period comprised in the accompanying chapters, would be incomplete without a notice of the events which were in the meantime taking place in the eastern soudan. in may, , when graham's force withdrew from souakim, general hudson took over the command. the troops left to protect the town consisted of europeans, , indians, and the egyptians forming the regular garrison. osman digna, with the greater part of his followers, was again at tamaai, and had also a small force at hasheen. the fall of kassala soon after, by setting free the besieging force, enabled osman still further to strengthen his position in the neighbourhood of souakim.[ ] under these circumstances, general hudson was compelled to remain strictly on the defensive. it would be both long and wearisome to attempt to describe the various incidents which occurred during many of the succeeding months. day after day the dervish scouts approached the forts, and cavalry patrols went out and fired upon them; night after night parties of the enemy took up positions from which they fired on the town, and remained until dislodged by the shell fired from the forts and from the man-of-war stationed in the harbour. thus souakim continued to be besieged, the enemy refraining from any serious attack, and devoting themselves principally to raiding the friendly tribes in the adjoining territory. on th may, , the remainder of the british and indian troops left, and major watson took command as governor-general of the eastern soudan. the garrison at this time consisted of , egyptians. in june, the prospect began to brighten. the dervishes withdrew their patrols round souakim, and evacuated hasheen and handoub. the friendlies then began to take courage, and made advances upon tamaai, which they blockaded, and eventually occupied on th september, the soudanese garrison retiring with loss into a fort near the village. on the th october the friendlies scored a further success. after being twice repulsed, they assaulted and took the fort after an hour's fighting, killing some of the defenders and capturing eighteen guns. the redoubtable osman digna, being wanted at omdurman, had previously withdrawn, and no hostile force now remained in the eastern soudan. two thousand pounds was paid to the friendlies by way of subsidy, and trade with the interior was opened. in november, colonel kitchener, who had succeeded major watson, reported "the collapse of osman digna's power," and a season of greater tranquillity than souakim had known for years was experienced. in january, , affairs at souakim had even further settled down, and many of the hostile tribes expressed a desire to come to terms, but, in june, news arrived that from , to , dervishes, mostly baggaras, were advancing from kassala to relieve tokar, at that time besieged by the friendlies. the arrival of the baggaras at tokar tended to revive the fanatical spirit at that place, but had not much influence on the surrounding tribes, who refused to present themselves there when summoned by osman digna. in july, osman was again called to omdurman, and in his absence nothing particular was done in the neighbourhood of souakim. during the autumn, things looked so peaceful that the garrison was reduced by the withdrawal of two battalions, and news of this circumstance reaching osman, who had then returned to kassala, he at once collected some , men and marched to handoub. by th december he was again master of the whole country up to the walls of souakim, which once more was in a state of siege. on th december, an attack was made on the water forts, and repulsed. a deserter reported that at handoub and tamaai a fighting force of , men was preparing to capture souakim by a rush, and that the scheme would be carried out at daybreak very shortly. in january, , frequent night attacks were made; but they were invariably repulsed by the fire from the men-of-war in the harbour. on the th, a party of friendlies attacked the dervish camp at daybreak. mounted troops from souakim went in support. the friendlies surprised and captured the enemy's camp. then the dervishes scattered in the pursuit re-entered the position from the rear, and drove off the friendlies with considerable loss. the whole egyptian force then retreated to souakim, pursued for four or five miles by the victorious dervishes. in this engagement kitchener and lieutenant mcmurdo were wounded, and eleven soldiers and friendlies were killed. as a result of the engagement, kitchener was warned that in future he should not take part in similar operations with british officers or egyptian regulars. the intention was to capture osman digna, but although seen in the distance, he succeeded in escaping at the moment when the fortune of war appeared to be going against him. emboldened by this success, the dervishes began to display increased activity round souakim, the neighbourhood of which was infested with marauding bands. on the rd march, a large party established themselves by night at a disused position called fort hudson, and kept up a continuous fire on the town. on the morning of the th, numbers of the enemy were seen advancing, and h.m.s. _dolphin_ opened fire at a.m. the egyptian forces, to the number of men, advanced to endeavour to drive the enemy from fort hudson, the friendly amarar tribe assisting. the position, however, was too strong, and they were repulsed. to make matters worse, just at the moment when a reinforcement of the enemy necessitated the retirement a shell from the man-of-war, aimed at the dervishes, burst among the friendlies, who, suddenly scared, fell back in disorder upon the regulars, who had nothing left to do but retreat with all possible speed. the dervish force maintained its position during the remainder of the day under a heavy cross-fire. at nightfall the dervishes drew off and made no further attempt to reoccupy the position. the egyptian loss in this highly unsuccessful sortie was colonel tapp and eight men killed and seventeen wounded, without counting the poor friendlies. after the affair of the th march things resumed a comparatively quiet condition for some months. the enemy's cavalry from time to time came within range, and a few shots were exchanged, but nothing serious was attempted on either side. the inaction of the blockading force was doubtless due in great measure to the dissensions which at this period broke out amongst the hostile tribes, some of whom were anxious to take souakim by assault, whilst others deemed it useless to make the attempt. the result was a series of quarrels, which nearly led to actual fighting. on the night of the th september, however, the aspect of things changed, and without any previous warning a force of some men of the jaalin and baggara tribes intrenched themselves at a distance of , yards from the water forts, with the intention of cutting off the water supply, and commenced firing on the town. this was kept up continuously for some time by day and night, and frequent casualties occurred. on the nd the enemy placed a gun on the ridge between the water forts, and shelled the town until compelled by the fire from the lines to withdraw. it was now evident that at any moment a determined attempt might be made to capture the town, and reinforcements were urgently called for. in response to the appeal, an additional vessel of war and another battalion were sent to souakim. meanwhile, the besiegers still continued active in the trenches, which they pushed forward to within yards of the defensive works. their fire began to get exceedingly accurate, though but little harm was done. early in november general grenfell arrived with two divisions of horse artillery and six mortars, which it was hoped would make the enemy's position in the trenches untenable. after taking a survey of the situation, grenfell decided that it was necessary to drive the arabs from their trenches as soon as a sufficient force should be assembled to make the operation practicable. two more egyptian battalions, marching _viá_ keneh and kosseir, reached souakim in the beginning of december. in addition to this reinforcement, and in consequence of doubts being entertained at home as to how far the egyptian troops could be relied on to face the soudanese alone and unsupported, the nd battalion of the scottish borderers and of the british mounted infantry were sent from cairo. this brought the entire force up to british troops, , egyptians, and , soudanese. a reconnaissance made by the cavalry on the th december having been forced to retire before a strong body of the enemy's horsemen, it was recognized that the cavalry force ought to be strengthened. in consequence of this, a squadron of the th hussars was sent from cairo. apprehension being still expressed as to the sufficiency of grenfell's force, half of the st battalion of the welsh regiment was also despatched. by the th, the additional troops had all arrived, and everything was prepared for the impending attack.[ ] the enemy's trenches were situated between and yards south-west of the two water forts, ghemaiza and shaata, and extended in a long irregular line. the ground to the west of the northern flank was clear and practicable for cavalry, while to the north of the northern flank was a depression which would enable the troops to form up for attack before coming under fire. this circumstance decided general grenfell to attack on the north flank, whilst at the same time making a feint on the south flank. it was arranged to make the attack a surprise, and with this object a naval demonstration was prepared at mersa kuwai, eight miles to the north of souakim, and visible from osman digna's camp at handoub. it was also decided that, previous to the actual attack, the trenches were to be vigorously cannonaded by the guns from the lines, and h.m.s. _racer_. at a.m. on the th, the artillery fire commenced along the whole line of defence, and the troops marched out to the attack. the st brigade, under colonel kitchener, was composed of the th, th, and th soudanese battalions; the nd brigade, commanded by lieutenant-colonel holled-smith, consisted of the th egyptian battalion and the th soudanese. the scottish borderers and the rd egyptian battalion marched out independently, and took up a position in the rear of the water forts at . a.m. the two brigades now advanced to a position parallel to the extreme north flank of the enemy's trenches, where they formed front and moved steadily towards the works. when within yards the troops came under fire. the advance was continued without replying until within yards, when the brigades, advancing by quick rushes and opening a heavy fusillade, reached the trenches and captured them at the point of the bayonet. here the greatest slaughter took place, and the survivors, attempting to rally on their right flank, were dispersed by the th soudanese, who, in their eagerness to fight, had broken their square and deployed. during the attack on the trenches, the cavalry remained on the right of the infantry, guarding their flank. the horse artillery battery at this period came up and shelled the redoubt on the south flank of the intrenchments, which had also been exposed to a heavy infantry fire from the welsh regiment and the rd egyptian battalion, which had advanced from their position behind the water forts. the two egyptian brigades now cleared the whole line of intrenchments from north to south, and, with the mounted infantry on the north flank, poured steady volleys upon the dervishes, by this time in full retreat upon handoub. an attempt made by the enemy's horsemen to work round the right flank of the attacking line at an earlier stage of the action was defeated by the th hussars, who charged and drove them in disorder in the direction of hasheen. by a.m. the whole thing was over, the position was taken, and the bugles sounded "cease firing." the cavalry, however, continued to pursue the retreating enemy, whilst the rest of the troops intrenched themselves in zeribas on the captured position. the defeat of osman digna's followers was most complete. out of a force of a little over , men, they had killed either in the fight or during the pursuit. on the other side the loss was insignificant, being only six killed and forty-six wounded. it must be admitted that the dervish force was vastly inferior in point of numbers to their opponents,[ ] who also possessed the advantages of superior skill and discipline. even making every allowance for these circumstances, it is difficult to account for the trifling loss sustained by the anglo-egyptian troops, except on the hypothesis that they never, in point of fact, encountered any real resistance. another circumstance was that the dervish force was left to defend their position against greatly superior numbers without being reinforced. this may perhaps be explained by the diversion caused by the naval demonstration made at mersa kuwai, and which no doubt caused osman digna to imagine that a serious attack at that point was also contemplated. the effect of grenfell's victory on the local tribes must have been very great, and the idea naturally was that an immediate advance of the egyptian troops would be made. this, however, formed no part of the general's instructions, which were simply to drive the enemy from their trenches, and on no account to advance against osman digna at handoub. before leaving, grenfell approved plans made for the construction of additional forts and redoubts, so as to prevent the enemy being able in future to intrench themselves within range of the town, and his mission being accomplished, he then returned to cairo. the british troops were next withdrawn, and colonel kitchener, who was left in command of the garrison of , men, maintained a purely defensive attitude. chapter lvi. the nile frontier. at the end of march, , mohammed-el-kheir was still at kermeh, with a considerable force distributed between that place and dongola. although there was nothing to show that the contemplated invasion of egypt had been abandoned, there is reason to believe that the khalifa's attention was at this time diverted by events which occurred in kordofan, where many of the tribes broke out into open revolt against his authority. probably from this cause, and from troubles which arose on the abyssinian frontier, no further move in the direction of egypt had been attempted since the fight at ginnis. seeing no further prospect of fighting, general stephenson had quitted the anglo-egyptian force, which, on the th january, was concentrated at kosheh, and returned to cairo. it was now determined to fix the frontier of egypt once more at wady halfa, and to this point all the troops and stores were withdrawn by the th april, not, however, without the loss of two steamers which were wrecked in trying to pass the cataract. the british troops were sent back to assouan, and the defence of wady halfa was thenceforth left entirely to the egyptian soldiers. as soon as the news reached omdurman that the anglo-egyptian forces had retired there was great rejoicing, and fresh impetus was given to the northward movement. the khalifa took steps to reinforce the various emirs in command, and at the same time sent proclamations by the hands of emissaries to egypt. these proclamations called upon the people of upper and lower egypt "to rise as one man and destroy the turks and infidels." they also announced that "the khalifa of the mahdi would shortly take constantinople, mecca, and all other parts of the world." in pursuance of this programme, in the month of june the dervish forces again began to advance on the nile, and on the th occupied akasheh once more, whilst a party advanced to ambigol wells and destroyed the railway between that point and akasheh. in july, the further carrying out of the project of invasion was suspended in consequence of the khalifa receiving news that his emir mohammed-es-sherif had sustained a most serious defeat in darfur. for this, and other reasons, he was prevented from sending the reinforcements intended to his followers on the nile. on th july, the commandant, colonel smith, reported from wady halfa that mohammed-el-kheir was retiring to khartoum, and wad-en-nejumi was not coming to dongola, whilst all the dervishes were leaving that province and massing at khartoum. the colonel added that "in this direction all heart appears to have died out of the movement." in october, however, the situation took another turn, and general stephenson, in a despatch to the british government, reported that the force of the enemy in the dongola district and to the north, including that on the way down from berber, might be reckoned at from , to , fighting men, , of whom were armed with rifles; , of the number were already in dongola and other places to the north. the force possessed two or three steamers and a fleet of native boats. the despatch stated that "a serious advance upon the frontier may be apprehended and should be guarded against." on the nth november, major-general the hon. r. h. de montmorency (now lord frankfort), commanding the british troops in alexandria, was sent to take command of the troops at wady halfa. on the th, the advanced guard of the enemy, under nur-el-kanzi, was at abkeh, eight miles south of wady halfa and was estimated at about , men. the intention of the dervishes was not to attack wady halfa at first, but to make a descent on the river at argin, a few miles to the north of halfa, thus cutting the communications, whilst the main body would besiege that place. to frustrate this design a fortified post was established at argin, and also at deberra, ten miles to the north of halfa. on the th, having first repaired the break which had been made in the railway, colonel chermside advanced with the egyptian cavalry, camel corps, and a battalion of infantry to the enemy's camp at gemai, which he found deserted, and occupied it. at daybreak on the st december, the main body, consisting of two and a half egyptian battalions, under general de montmorency, left wady halfa for gemai, where it joined chermside. the latter with his force then pushed on to the enemy's main position at sarras, thirty miles south of halfa. the dervishes retreated across the desert before his advance, and he was only able to come up with a few stragglers. de montmorency halted the main body at gemai and went on with his staff to sarras, where he arrived the same evening. his intention had been to break up nur-el-kanzi's force, but finding that the dervishes refused to make a stand anywhere, after remaining at sarras two days, the general returned with the whole force to wady halfa. at the end of the year a band of dervishes again gave trouble, occupying sarras once more. from this point they threatened wady halfa and devastated the neighbouring country. they then retired, but only to return in april, . on the th april it was reported that the emir nur-el-kanzi, with the advance guard of a formidable force, had occupied sarras and pushed forward an outpost as far as gemai. colonel chermside, who commanded at wady halfa, at once despatched major rundle with cavalry and two guns of the camel battery _en route_ to sarras, with orders to march by night and to prevent the natives giving notice of the advance of the main body. the th soudanese battalion, under captain borrow, and the st egyptian battalion, under major lloyd, moved out soon after, and early next morning concentrated at abkah. the cavalry were directed to push on, and at daylight to engage the enemy and keep him occupied until the arrival of the infantry. these instructions were ably carried out, and a block-house situated on the hills overlooking sarras was seized, as well as the railway station and a block of buildings adjacent. this operation was performed under fire from another block-house on the hills to the eastward, held by the enemy's riflemen. at . a.m. a cavalry patrol was pushed along the destroyed railway line, but before it had advanced a quarter of a mile it came across the main body of the dervishes, and retired to the railway station, from behind which a heavy fire was now directed on the enemy's position. messages were at once sent back to colonel chermside, who was by this time advancing with all haste with the remainder of the column. at . the two guns of the camel battery came up, and, after firing twenty rounds, breached the second block-house, which was then promptly stormed and taken. the guns were then turned on the enemy's main position, which was shelled with satisfactory results. chermside, with the infantry, had by this time arrived, and the enemy having evacuated their camp and retired into a narrow ravine about yards from the river, two companies were detached to turn the left of their position, the remainder being retained as support near the railway station. the cavalry had been previously sent to take part in the turning movement, and succeeded in doing this simultaneously with the front attack which was now made, driving in with considerable loss some fifty arabs. the enemy's second line, seeing the cavalry in their rear, made no attempt to join the first line, but made straight for the river and escaped. in the meantime, as the two detached companies had neared the enemy's left, the spearmen with wild yells rose from the ravine, and dashed down the bank on them. the shock was so great that the small egyptian force was compelled to fall back on its supports, nevertheless fighting all the way. they were promptly reinforced, and again advanced. the enemy contested every inch of the ground, fighting hand to hand, and falling almost to a man. many of them were killed in the river, and others, in attempting to turn the left of the infantry, fell under the fire of the reserve of the fighting line. here their leader, nur-el-kanzi, was killed. at a quarter to a.m. the enemy's whole position, with ten standards and a considerable quantity of arms and ammunition, was captured. nearly their whole fighting force of men was annihilated, whilst the egyptian loss was but twenty-one killed and thirty wounded. the dervishes from the first were hopelessly outnumbered, and the fight was principally interesting as being the first action fought by the modern egyptian soldier independent of british support. after the action the whole of the egyptian troops withdrew to wady halfa, where for a short time they were allowed to enjoy peace and tranquillity. this state of things was not destined to last. on the th june another descent was made on sarras, to which its former inhabitants had returned. the dervishes, on this occasion, contented themselves with plundering the houses, and carrying off the women and any other objects of value they could lay hands on, after which they again retired south. at a council of emirs held at omdurman early in august, it was decided to resume the advance on egypt. by the end of the month, a force of , men, under the emir mohammed ahmed-el-hashim, left ferket for sarras, which, on the th september, was again occupied. on the th october the dervish force at sarras, having been joined by reinforcements from dongola, amounted to , men. on the th a message was received from khor-el-musa, the outpost fort, four and a half miles from wady halfa, that a body of , dervishes was in sight and marching on halfa. colonel wodehouse, then in command, advanced with the mounted troops and came in view of the enemy watering their camels near the abka pass. the th soudanese regiment had meanwhile taken up a position on the hills three miles south of khor musa. the mounted force, having completed its object, prepared to fall back on the infantry. at this moment, it was sighted by the enemy's cavalry, which, followed by their infantry, approached and opened an ill-directed fire. wodehouse's camels had difficulty in moving rapidly over the rocky ground, and delayed the retiring force. taking advantage of this, the dervishes dashed into the midst of the egyptian mounted troops, and several hand-to-hand encounters took place. the retirement on the infantry supports was gradually effected, and the th soudanese then checked and eventually drove them back with loss. the egyptian casualties were one man killed and two wounded. after this skirmish, the dervish force retired to gemai, which it adopted as a permanent outpost, the main body remaining at sarras. the idea of a direct attack by the mahdists on wady halfa seems to have been for the moment abandoned. after a time the difficulty of keeping a large body, like that at sarras, supplied with food became apparent to their leaders. small-pox, too, broke out in their camp, and numbers of deaths occurred daily. under these untoward circumstances, and with the continued troubles in darfur on his hands, the khalifa was once more obliged to postpone the execution of his project of invasion. on the th june, , the last detachment of british troops, viz., one company of the welsh regiment, was withdrawn from assouan, and the protection of the frontier was intrusted solely to the egyptian army. the skirmish in which colonel wodehouse defeated the enemy was followed by a series of desultory raids, not only in the vicinity of wady halfa, but at many points between that place and assouan, raids which spread terror in the hearts of the villagers. the egyptian troops, by establishing posts along the nile and by patrolling the river by gunboats, did their best to repress and punish these forays. one of the most serious of these was the midnight capture and recapture of the egyptian fort of khor musa on the th august, . at this date, the dervish force was still occupying sarras, which had become a sort of central point for the raiders, and from this point the attack on the fort was directed. the fort itself was a native house on the river bank converted into a fortification. in the darkness of the night, some dervishes arrived close to the fort, and a small party, detached from the main body, crept quietly up under the river bank unperceived until close under the walls. the sentry at the south-western corner, hearing a noise, challenged, and was immediately shot. the corporal of the guard, hearing the report of a rifle and a shout outside the walls, at once opened the western gate on the river, and was shot down. the assailants then streamed through the gate and killed the whole of the guard. the garrison, suddenly roused, turned out, and finding the south end of the fort full of the enemy, fought their way into the northern section. here, for two hours, they made a stubborn resistance, firing from every available spot, though without much effect, the enemy being protected by the intervening walls. the defence, thus far, had been conducted by a native major, who, on the first alarm, had telephoned to wady halfa for assistance. the news reached colonel wodehouse at . p.m., and, without delay, he despatched reinforcements by train, as well as a detachment of cavalry as a guard. the gunboat _metemmeh_ also got under way, and at . a.m. opened fire on the portion of the fort held by the enemy. lieutenant machell, who arrived with the troops, posted his men in such a way as to prevent any possibility of the enemy escaping, and with fifty men crept stealthily round, until they arrived at the western gate, which had been left open. here his men, rapidly forming up, fired a volley straight into the mass of the enemy collected inside. the latter, completely surprised, attempted to climb the wall, but only to be met at the point of the bayonet by the men waiting below to receive them. machell then dashed in through the gate and, forming his men into a rough line, repulsed the assailants, who, finding their retreat cut off, fought with the energy of despair. soon all within the adjoining inclosure were either killed or wounded, and the fort was again in the possession of the egyptians. the bodies of eighty-five, mostly baggara and jaalin arabs, were found in and around the fort, and many others fell in the line of retreat. the egyptian loss was also severe, amounting to nineteen killed and thirty-four wounded.[ ] the reverse sustained by the dervishes, on this occasion, was a serious discouragement to their leaders, whilst, at the same time, it gave increased confidence to the riverain population. chapter lvii. wad-en-nejumi and collapse of the invasion. after the repulse of the dervish attack on khor mussa (in august, ), the southern frontier of egypt was left for some time comparatively undisturbed, but, early in , persistent rumours reached cairo that the long-threatened invasion was at last to come off. this time it was to take place down the left bank of the river, the idea being to avoid wady halfa and the other fortified posts, and, by starting from a post opposite sarras, to strike across the desert to bimban, a place on the nile, about twenty-five miles north of assouan. the military authorities in cairo, from the first, considered the project impracticable, seeing the difficulties which must arise in conducting an army of , men (the estimated number of wad-en-nejumi's force), with an equal number of camp-followers and without either adequate provisions or means of transport, across a waterless desert, only to fight a battle at the end. nevertheless, it was deemed advisable to be prepared, and steps were taken to provide for the defence of the villages on the west bank in the neighbourhood of wady halfa, where block-houses were constructed at the various points most liable to attack. the first indication of the forward movement of the dervishes was in april, , when the emir abd-el-halim reached sarras with , men. wad-en-nejumi at this period was at hafir, thirty miles north of dongola, with about , more, and with this force he calculated upon taking egypt with a rush. on the th may, a party of the dervishes at sarras, where by reinforcements the enemy's force had been increased to , men, crossed over to the west bank and set out for the village of serra (north of wady halfa). here, on the th may, they appeared to the number of and commenced pillaging the houses, but, after a stubborn fight with a detachment of the th soudanese, were driven off into the desert, taking with them some of the loot. in the fight, the marauders lost some thirty men, the egyptian loss being only six wounded. on the nd june, wad-en-nejumi reached sarras, and, crossing the nile, united his followers with those of abd-el-halim, who had already transferred his camp to the western bank. the combined forces, estimated at over , men, then marched to matuka,[ ] which they reached on the th. to oppose the invaders, a flying column was organized at wady halfa. it consisted of two squadrons of cavalry, eight krupp guns, two companies of the camel corps, and the th, th, and th soudanese battalions, in all , men. colonel wodehouse, in command, hearing from his scouts that the enemy might march at any moment on argin, three miles distant, took his measures accordingly. to protect the village of argin, there was at the south end, standing a little back from the river, a block-house held by a company of the camel corps and an infantry detachment. at the extreme north end, three and a half miles distant, was a large building, the house of the "omdeh," or head man of the village, garrisoned by more infantry. in the centre, between the two points, the th soudanese, under captain kempster, took up a position in some detached houses, which they placed in a state of defence. all three positions were practically in a line, and, with the exception of the block-houses, on the river. on the east bank, facing the north end of the village, stood the fortified post of ishkait, with one gun. such were the dispositions made for the defence of argin by colonel wodehouse, who had at his disposal four stern wheel gunboats, and a number of native craft for transport purposes. with these, his intention was to reinforce with the remainder of his flying column any point of the straggling line of defence which might be threatened. on the st july, after sunset, wad-en-nejumi's force left matuka in a vast crowd in a north-western direction, and making a detour into the desert, were seen at dawn on the nd at a distance of two miles from the forts of wady halfa. colonel wodehouse, sending the cavalry along the west bank, proceeded to argin by steamer with half the th soudanese and the th battalion. learning that the mounted troops were in touch with the enemy, he disembarked his men and guns on the east bank, opposite the centre of the village, and, after sending the gunboats to cruise in front, awaited events. meanwhile, at a.m., a portion of the cavalry had cut off a few stragglers in the enemy's rear, who were making for the nile, until, faced by superior numbers, the egyptians were forced to fall back. the enemy, continuing the advance, occupied the hills west of argin, about , yards from the village, driving in the nd camel corps, which had been reconnoitring from the southern post. from a commanding position on the east bank, where colonel wodehouse had established his head-quarters with two companies of the th battalion and the artillery, the enemy were now perceived planting their banners on the hill-tops to mark their positions, and descending in numbers towards the north end of the village. the artillery immediately opened on them, and the th battalion, under major hunter, was sent across in a gunboat to reinforce the central and northern posts. the enemy continued their forward movement in a north-easterly direction, though exposed to a flanking fire from the cavalry and camel corps, and at . a.m. three large parties of them approached within , yards of the th soudanese in the central post, when the volleys they received from captain kempster's battalion forced them to sheer off and take cover behind a long ridge to the left of the position. from this point, they kept up a harassing rifle-fire until, the reinforcements having disembarked near the northern post, the rifles of the th battalion, added to those of the th, compelled them to retreat. though this first attempt to seize the village failed, small parties of dervishes continued to come down to the river between kempster's position and the southern post, and occupying a portion of the houses, opened fire on the cavalry and camel corps, inflicting some loss. up to this time no serious attempt had been made to push home the attack, and the fighting had been of a somewhat desultory character. the dervishes occupying the captured houses, continually receiving reinforcements from the main body, about noon placed a gun in position and opened fire on the artillery on the east bank, only to be silenced, however, by the latter after firing a few rounds. [illustration] one of the gunboats was then sent to drive the dervish force out. in this she signally failed, and after a cannonade on both sides lasting for an hour, she had to return with the commander and two men wounded. in the meantime there was, it seems, a disagreement between the two emirs, abd-el-halim wishing to capture the village, and wad-en-nejumi refusing to consent. the dispute ended in abd-el-halim collecting his own men, and as many others as he could prevail upon to follow him. then he advanced rapidly down a khor leading to the centre of the village, his left being protected by riflemen posted on the ridge behind, to which they had been driven in the morning, and his right being covered by the fire from the captured houses. the movement being perceived from the eastern bank, colonel wodehouse again opened fire with his artillery, but the dervishes nevertheless still came on, and divided into three groups, one of which was directed towards captain kempster's position, the second taking the centre of the village, and the third advancing to the southern post. seeing the nature of this new attack, wodehouse promptly ordered the th battalion, then stationed near the northern post, to embark and reinforce the troops to the southern end of the village. two of the first companies to land from the steamer had hardly advanced any distance before they were charged by the enemy's cavalry and spearmen, and forced back to the water's edge. there, aided by the fire from the gunboat, they maintained their position against heavy odds, until help came in the form of two companies of the th soudanese and some of the camel corps. major hunter, the rest of whose battalion had by this time landed, now assumed command of these detachments, and, advancing steadily, drove back the assailants, who frequently charged him, only, however, to be shot down to a man. seeing a number of horse and spearmen rallying on the left, hunter now halted his men in a position which, with the adjacent houses right and rear, formed a square, and remained on the defensive. in the meantime, captain kempster, observing the enemy streaming down into the village, kept up a steady fire from his loopholed houses, to which the dervish riflemen on the ridge replied. hearing that a gun had been brought into position on the river bank to his left, he went with a party of men to seize it, but, finding that the post was too strongly held, he retired after some fighting, in which he lost seven of his men. the gun was shortly after captured by a party of the th soudanese, though not without a severe hand-to-hand encounter. wodehouse had now arrived on the west bank, and sent major hunter with some companies of the th to clear the ground to his left front. though three times charged by the dervish spearmen, he succeeded, and drove the enemy back through the khor by which they had advanced. some fifty of the arabs who remained in the captured houses were surrounded, and the houses being set fire to, the unfortunate inmates had no alternative but to come out and be killed. this completed the work of the day, and at p.m. argin was completely cleared of the dervish force, which left some men killed in and around the village, besides prisoners, men, women, and children. the egyptians engaged amounted to less than , men, and their loss was eleven killed and fifty-nine wounded. the enemy's camp was found the next day still in its original position, and although wodehouse, with the object of drawing the dervishes, placed the th soudanese opposite the entrance to the khor, there was no response. there was now another difference of opinion between abd-el-halim and his commander-in-chief, wad-en-nejumi, as to the further steps to be taken. the former, wounded in the engagement, and depressed by his recent defeat, wished to retreat to matuka. to this nejumi positively refused to consent, and, assembling his entire force, declared that he would never desist from what he regarded as a holy undertaking, and that the weak hearts who wished to retire to their homes might do so. the result was that over of his followers seceded and made their way back to matuka, whence they subsequently went further south. by this proceeding, wad-en-nejumi's force was diminished altogether by nearly , men. at midnight on the th, the dervish leader burnt his camp and moved still further north towards serra. wodehouse, not feeling strong enough to attack now, contented himself with keeping in touch with the enemy, and heading them off the river. with the bulk of his flying squadron on the west bank, and his four gunboats in mid-stream, he was able to do this without running unnecessary risk. the dervish army continued its onward march, wodehouse's force descending the river and keeping abreast of wad-en-nejumi all the time. conflicts frequently occurred, and the enemy lost several men from the fire of the steamers, and by desertion. this state of things continued till the th, when the dervish force was discovered encamped behind the village of faras. from this point they were shelled out by the artillery on the east bank, and on the th they took up a position on the hills two miles above belanga, and , yards from the river. wodehouse concentrated his column at belanga village, sending on the camel corps to toski. after the fight at argin, it dawned upon the military authorities that if any stop had to be made to the advance of the dervishes on the nile, kitchener's force would have to be supplemented by further troops. accordingly the st and nd egyptian battalions, a mule battery, and two squadrons of cavalry were despatched in hot haste to the front. on th july, the sirdar, sir francis grenfell, left cairo, and a british brigade, under brigadier-general the hon. r. h. montmorency, was moved up the river. it was composed of the nd battalion royal irish rifles, the st battalion of the welsh regiment, with a squadron of the th hussars, a detachment of mounted infantry, and a mule battery. these forces were to be concentrated, in the first instance, at assouan, and thence either to take up a strong position at bimban, and there await the dervish attack, or, in case wad-en-nejumi's advance should prove less rapid than was expected, to form a second column to join wodehouse's force, and bring on a decisive action further up the river. the british cavalry, artillery, and royal irish rifles reached assouan on th july, and the egyptian troops having also come up, a column of the latter, composed of the st and nd battalions of egyptian infantry, the th battalion of soudanese infantry, with artillery and cavalry, was organized and placed under the command of colonel kitchener. no time was lost in pushing them forward; and on the th two of the infantry battalions reached toski, which they proceeded to put in a state of defence. [illustration] in the meantime, wad-en-nejumi's force at belanga had been strengthened by the arrival of men, with camels, under the command of another emir, called makin-en-nur. this brought the number of wad-en-nejumi's troops up to a total of , fighting men and , camp-followers. with these, on the th july, he resumed his march to the north. pausing for one night at a distance of ten miles from the celebrated temple of abu simbel, they continued on their way till the st august, when they took up a position in the hills four miles to the south of toski. on the same day wodehouse's force, which step by step had followed wad-en-nejumi's movements down the nile, also reached toski, where the whole of the egyptian troops from assouan, together with general sir francis grenfell and the british cavalry, had concentrated the previous day. with the exception of the british brigade, the entire nile field force was now assembled, and general grenfell took over the command. on the rd the general, receiving information that wad-en-nejumi intended to resume his march northward, ordered all the mounted troops to make a reconnaissance in force, the object being to check the dervish advance and keep wad-en-nejumi in his present position until the arrival of the british brigade. nejumi's camp was placed on the inner extremity of a range of granite hills, extending from the river inland in a westerly direction and situated about four miles south of toski. the village consisted of scattered houses covering the land for about three miles from end to end and dotted in places with palm groves; , yards in the rear the cultivated ground disappeared in the desert which stretched away till closed in by a range of hills at a distance of six miles from the nile. behind these hills lay nejumi's camp. the desert was intercepted here and there by rocks and boulders of a height and size sufficient to afford cover to considerable numbers of men. across this desert ground the british and egyptian mounted troops advanced. they consisted of four squadrons of cavalry and a camel corps. grenfell himself accompanied the force. on nearing the enemy's position, it was seen that camels were being loaded up, and everything prepared for an immediate move. it was evident that if this was to be prevented no time was to be lost. the cavalry pushed on, and the enemy's riflemen, advancing in skirmishing order, at once opened fire. this was answered by the dismounted camel corps, which, taking up a position on a commanding ridge, poured volleys on the dervishes, now coming on in considerable numbers. the fire of the latter, however, became too hot, and the camel corps, as well as the mounted troops generally, retired to a second position, which they were equally unable to hold. a third position, yards off, was now occupied, and it being on a hill with clear ground intervening, the mounted troops were able for some time to hold their own and keep up a steady fire. the situation at this moment was such that orders were sent back to bring up the st brigade from toski. at . , before there was time for the reinforcements to arrive, the arab spearmen in force emerged from two ravines and steadily advanced on the position. a further retirement then became necessary, and the troops took up a position at the foot of a conical hill two miles from toski, where they were joined by two guns of the horse battery. at a.m. the guns opened fire on the advancing column, which now, followed by a mass of camp-followers and baggage animals, turned to its left and marched steadily across the egyptian front. it then became evident that wad-en-nejumi did not mean fighting, and that his object was simply to get away, and continue his advance northward. to prevent this, which would have frustrated the whole object of the reconnaissance, grenfell immediately sent off for the nd brigade, and whilst the two guns continued their fire colonel kitchener, with the mounted troops, made a detour to the north and checked nejumi's further advance. finding that his march was opposed, the emir determined to accept battle, and placed his followers upon some semi-detached hills to the west of the ground occupied by the mounted troops. the tops of these hills were by this time planted with standards and lined with riflemen, the spearmen being kept out of sight. the camp-followers and transport animals were placed in a temporary camp behind the hills in front. in the meantime, the st brigade, under major hunter, together with the artillery, had come up unseen under the cover of some rising ground, and stationed themselves on an eminence yards distant from and exactly opposite to the enemy's position. the nd brigade, arriving shortly after, was kept as a support on the left rear of the st. the st brigade then opened fire all along its front. this was kept up and replied to for half an hour. colonel wodehouse, who was in command of the infantry division, then proceeded to extend his line by moving the th soudanese to the right with a view to enfilading the enemy's left flank. after the battalion had moved only yards it was halted on a number of men on the first hill being observed preparing to charge. at this moment, emerging from their cover, on they came with wild cries, and charged down towards the battalion. the egyptians never wavered, and maintaining their formation, by a steady fire drove the enemy back with a loss of some of their men. the battalion, supported by a company of the nd egyptian regiment, then advanced and took possession of the hill, in spite of frequent isolated charges made by its defenders. under cover of a heavy cannonade kept up by the artillery, the whole line of troops then advanced towards the various points held by the enemy. on arriving in front of wad-en-nejumi's central position, another attempt was made to charge. it was directed this time against the th soudanese, which, in combination with the th, had seized a ridge connecting two of the hills. the charge, however, collapsed under the well-directed volleys of the th. during this period the th battalion, supported by the st egyptian, had been operating on a detached hill to the left and suffering from an enfilading fire from some concealed riflemen. the battalion had already lost seventy of its men, when general grenfell ordered the hill to be stormed. the two battalions together then advanced, and, after a severe hand-to-hand fight with the dervish spearmen, swarmed up the hill and captured the position. repeated attempts were made to retake the lost ground, and even after the egyptian troops had gained the summit of the hill, small bodies of the enemy collected on the off side and charged upwards with the greatest determination. these attempts only ended when the last of the brave assailants was shot dead only a few paces in front of the egyptian line. only one hill out of those chosen by nejumi for his position was now held by the enemy, and this was soon stormed and carried at the point of the bayonet by the united th, th, and th soudanese battalions. by this operation, which was achieved at . a.m., the whole of the enemy's position was taken, and the two guns of the horse battery were occupied in shelling a defeated foe, in full retreat. at this period, wad-en-nejumi personally made an heroic effort to rally his dispersed followers, and the cavalry, which, during the fight, had been stationed in the rear of the infantry, had to be sent to stop the movement. the egyptian squadrons led the charge, followed by the british hussars, and, dashing into the midst of such of the enemy as were collected, completed the rout. the camel corps assisted in the final fight by a carefully directed fire on the enemy's flank, and in a few minutes not an arab was to be seen on the plain. there was, however, reason to believe that nejumi, so far from fleeing, had, with his defeated band, taken up a new position in the temporary camp formed for his camp-followers and baggage behind the hills. therefore grenfell, desirous of following up at once the advantage gained, at noon directed a general advance in that direction. the troops moved forward with the th soudanese and st and nd egyptian battalions in front, and the nd brigade in support. the artillery shelled the enemy's position as the troops advanced. the resistance encountered was but trifling, the foe, by this time, being in full retreat, leaving his camp, with a large collection of arms and military accoutrements, to fall into the hands of the victors. the cavalry then pursued the defeated dervishes for over two miles, and captured a great number of prisoners, and amongst them several women and children. at the moment when the fighting was deemed finished, a loaded camel, surrounded by about forty men, was observed following the line of retreat, and was fired upon by a troop of cavalry. the camel and most of the men fell apparently killed. the cavalry then approached and summoned the survivors to surrender. this was met by the arabs springing to their feet and making a charge on the cavalry, in which all the dervish warriors were killed except one, who escaped on a stray horse. the load carried on the camel turned out to be the body of the brave wad-en-nejumi, who, though badly wounded early in the day, had refused to fly, and devoted his last moments to an heroic attempt to rally his dispersed followers.[ ] the defeat amounted practically to annihilation, and wad-en-nejumi's force as an army ceased to exist. on the day of the fight and during the three days following , prisoners were taken, and the enemy's loss in killed was estimated at over , . the egyptian loss was but killed and wounded. in this, as in many of the other fights, it was simply the same old story: on the one side a mass of reckless, fanatical, and courageous savages; on the other trained and disciplined troops, acting under the orders of a skilful general. in a conflict conducted under such conditions, there could be but one result, and nothing remains but to regret the appalling loss of life which formed one of its inevitable concomitants. on the th august, as soon as arrangements had been made for the disposal of the numerous prisoners, the troops returned to assouan, and the nile field force was distributed amongst the various points where it was deemed necessary to retain garrisons. the british brigade, which had not succeeded in arriving in time to participate in the fight, was gradually moved down to cairo. the victory at toski marked the turning point in the invasion, and was a shock to the cause of mahdism which it took years to recover. the reinforcements, which were on their way down the nile to join nejumi, beat an immediate retreat, and all further operations for the invasion of egypt were suspended. numerous deserters from the dervish force, as well as hundreds of destitute refugees, crowded into wady halfa, and were provided with relief. though there was no longer any talk of invasion, as a protection for the frontier a battalion of egyptian infantry reoccupied and held sarras, and peace and tranquillity now reigned once more. chapter lviii. the eastern soudan again. in january, , things at souakim had drifted back pretty much into the same old groove, and the petty attacks of osman digna's followers were constantly renewed. the enemy's mounted men used, time after time, to approach the outlying forts, fire a few shots, and then retire. the military authorities, not feeling themselves equal to the task of clearing the neighbourhood of the hostile arabs, hit upon the expedient of inviting the tribes suspected of being unfriendly to the mahdist cause to do so. the invitation, which took the form of a proclamation issued by general grenfell, was not favourably responded to. the attitude of the tribes was one of expectancy, and all the sheikhs who responded stated pretty much the same thing, namely, that they would come in and help as soon as osman digna's power should be broken, and that they were perfectly willing to assist in cutting off stragglers, but they declined for the present to compromise themselves further. on the other hand, osman digna was not more successful in inducing the tribes to flock to his standard. on the th february, he burnt his camp at handoub, and transported the remainder of his forces to tokar, which now became the central point of rebel authority in the eastern soudan. after osman's departure, matters around souakim visibly improved. the tribes brought in cattle frequently, a little trade sprang up, and things generally wore a more peaceful aspect. by the month of august, the haddendowa and amarar tribes combined against the baggara, who were osman's chief allies, and, obtaining assistance, in money and food, from the souakim authorities, advanced upon sinkat, intending, if successful there, to attack osman's position at tokar. the united warriors, strong, succeeded only in capturing some cattle at the former place, after which, meeting with a superior force, they were compelled to fall back on tamanieb. no further assistance being given them, they then broke up and dispersed. on the th october, osman digna departed from tokar to attend a council held by the khalifa at omdurman, in consequence of the defeat and death of wad-en-nejumi, which had meanwhile taken place at the fight at toski. in december, osman left omdurman, and proceeded by way of gedaref and kassala with the object of gathering followers with whom to renew the struggle in the tokar district. with great difficulty, owing to tribal dissensions, he after some months got together a force of , , including women and children, which he conducted to the scene of his former exploits. owing, however, to the grain supply from souakim, on which he had relied for his requirements, being suddenly stopped, he had a difficulty in feeding his new levies. the result was that many of them left him and went in search of food and shelter elsewhere. in november, , osman digna was again at tokar with a greatly reduced force, estimated indeed at only , men, whilst at handoub but about of his followers remained. from this last point they made occasional raids in the neighbourhood of souakim, harassing the friendly tribes, and generally making things unpleasant so far as the limited numbers of the aggressors would allow. the misery and starvation of the well-disposed inhabitants round souakim at this time was intense, owing to the gates of the town being closed, and a cordon being drawn round the forts as a measure of precaution against the cholera, thus stopping all trade. the haddendowa, beni-amer, and amarar tribes implored the government to assist them in casting off the dervish yoke. this was the position when the moment was deemed favourable for striking a final blow at osman digna, taking tokar, and pacifying the eastern soudan. in january, , the situation became all the more favourable for these operations inasmuch as osman digna, towards the end of the month, again left tokar, taking with him many of his already reduced garrison. on th january, colonel holled-smith, then in command of the troops at souakim, advanced to handoub with the egyptian cavalry and the th and th battalions of soudanese infantry, and, after a short engagement, captured and occupied the place. over forty of the dervishes fell in the fight, and the remainder dispersed and fled to the hills. handoub having fallen, the attack on tokar was next taken in hand. for this purpose, on the th february, an expeditionary force under colonel holled-smith was formed. with the addition of some companies of the st egyptian battalion, which joined a few days later, it consisted of nearly , men, and was composed of cavalry, two large krupp guns, two mountain guns, and four battalions of infantry, viz., the st and th egyptian and the th and th soudanese. following the course pursued in all the former campaigns, the force was sent by sea to trinkitat, which was selected as the base of operations. at the same time a force of friendly natives was raised and sent by land towards temerin, to intercept the retreat of the tokar garrison if opportunity offered. by the th, the expeditionary troops had reached trinkitat, and on the morning of the following day the advance, directed in the first instance towards the wells of el teb, commenced. the line of march led over the site of general baker's defeat exactly seven years before, and heaps of white bones still marked the spot. at p.m., the column reached the wells without encountering any resistance. here the troops bivouacked, every precaution being taken to guard against a surprise. on the th, a severe sand-storm prevented the march being resumed, and the troops remained in camp. in the interval news was received that osman digna was now at a place called afafit, a village a mile and a half beyond the ruined town of tokar, and had with him considerable reinforcements. on the th, at daylight, the column, after leaving a small garrison at el teb, advanced upon tokar. the cavalry in advance first seized and occupied the ruined mamourieh or government buildings, and then at a.m. the infantry were brought up to the north-eastern side of the village, which consisted merely of crumbling walls. scarcely was the place reached when the enemy were seen advancing through the bush surrounding the "mamourieh." there was no time to be lost, and the infantry moved up at the double and formed a semi-circular line of defence, the th battalion lining the ruined buildings on the right, the th battalion those on the left, whilst the th battalion held those in the centre of the position. so rapidly was the attack developed that some dervishes had actually taken possession of some of the ruins on the left flank of the egyptian position before the th battalion had taken up the defence assigned to them. the main body of the enemy, now only fifty yards from the front rank of the troops, proceeded to extend to the right and left to envelop the entire position. firing began along the whole line as the enemy came on. the bulk of their force was directed against the th battalion, their attack being pushed home with the usual dash and fearlessness. the troops, however, stood their ground, and did not yield an inch throughout the whole line. their firing settled down to steady volleys, which quickly began to check the onward rush. as soon as this was perceived, the th battalion, moving from the left, advanced into the bush and cleared it of the attacking force, taking, at the point of the bayonet, some ruins occupied in front. the th then halted at a commanding point to the south-east of the original position. the th battalion remained in position on the right of the line, and, with the transport escort column, protected the rear, which at one time was seriously threatened by the enemy's horsemen. the dervishes, after the charge of the th battalion, at once commenced to retreat, followed closely by the cavalry, which, advancing into the bush on the right, found some open ground, where they did great execution. this completed the rout of the dervish attacking column, which gradually disappeared to the south in the direction of temerin. the troops then formed up on the high ground occupied by the th battalion and halted for a rest prior to advancing on the dervish head-quarters at the village of afafit. it was reported that afafit was occupied in force, but as the troops advanced the enemy, who had occupied some intervening sand hills, hurriedly retreated, and at p.m. the village was entered by the cavalry, the inhabitants coming out in numbers and welcoming the troops with many expressions of joy. the strength of the dervish force was estimated at , , but this included , men whom osman digna kept in reserve, and who never came into the fight at all. the enemy's loss was put at as high a figure as men, and it must have been considerable even allowing for bad shooting, no less than , cartridges having been fired away by the egyptian force. this last lost captain barrow, of the south lancashire regiment, and nine men killed, besides forty-eight wounded. on the morning of the following day it was ascertained by a cavalry reconnaissance that osman digna, deserted by all but followers, had passed through temerin, going off in the direction of kassala. communication by land was now established with souakim, and on the nd afafit was visited by general grenfell, who reviewed the troops and congratulated them on their victory of the th.[ ] on the nd march the expeditionary force was broken up, and after leaving garrisons at afafit, el teb, and trinkitat, the rest of the troops returned in triumph to souakim. disturbances in the eastern soudan then for a while ceased; a general amnesty was proclaimed; the tribes hastened to offer assurances of their loyalty; trade revived; and steps were taken to resume the cultivation of the fertile lands in the tokar district. the concluding events in the eastern soudan, though not chronologically in their place in the present chapter, are here inserted to avoid recurring to the subject. they may be briefly stated as follows:-- in the indefatigable osman digna once more appeared in the neighbourhood of souakim, with a force varying in number from time to time. his principal object was to raid the local arabs. in the summer of that year he attacked the egyptian post established at temerin, but was driven off by major hunter, with a loss of seventy men. this and other attempts led to the strengthening of the souakim garrison, and osman made no further attempts. although in osman was reported to have received considerable reinforcements and to be contemplating a fresh advance, it did not come off. after a long interval, in , osman, from his position in the hills, made a raid into the now cultivated lands of the tokar delta. on the th april, , an egyptian force of , officers and men, under colonel lloyd, left souakim to co-operate with a detachment of soldiers, under major sidney, from tokar, in supporting a party of friendly arabs, headed by a sheikh called omar tita, at horasab, in the erkowit hills, where osman digna and a number of dervishes had established themselves. the column, which marched in square formation, arrived at the teroi wells in the afternoon, having covered a distance of nineteen miles. here the force bivouacked, and the animals were watered. the cavalry, under captain fenwick, was then ordered to reconnoitre and to endeavour to establish touch with the tokar force and inform the commanding officer that the souakim force would remain where it was for the night, so as to enable the tokar contingent to join. it had been arranged previously with omar tita that he should hold the heights and the pass of khor wintri while the two egyptian forces concentrated. while the cavalry were proceeding towards the khor wintri they were suddenly attacked by a body of horsemen, supported by a large force on foot. the men were ordered to trot, but it was soon seen that the dervishes were gaining upon them. the reconnoitring party then galloped towards the open country. some, becoming entangled in the bush, fell off their horses and were speared. fenwick, with thirty-eight officers and men, retired to the left flank and ascended a hillock, where they kept the enemy off by firing volleys all night. the dervishes made four attempts to storm the hill, but were on each occasion repulsed. meanwhile an officer and thirty-two men rode through the scrub and returned to teroi wells. colonel lloyd immediately despatched two volunteers from the mounted police to endeavour to discover the whereabouts of captain fenwick and the tokar force, but both men were killed by the dervishes. on the morning of the th the dervishes, hearing heavy firing during the night from the khor wintri, drew off, and captain fenwick's party was then able to make its way back to teroi wells and rejoin the force there. the return of captain fenwick's reconnoitring party to the square at teroi wells was a great relief to the members of the column, who had entertained the gravest fears for their safety. the cavalry having rested, the column left teroi wells and moved towards the khor wintri to join the tokar force. owing to the thickness of the bush and the roughness of the country, the troops were obliged to proceed on foot. the camels were not required, and the food and reserve ammunition were sent on towards the hills held by omar tita's men. the two forces joined in the evening at the khor wintri, eight miles from the bivouac at teroi wells. the column, on arriving at the khor wintri, found major sidney there holding the wells, the dervishes with whom he was in touch having retreated up the pass. major sidney reported that he had arrived at the khor wintri on the previous afternoon and surprised the dervishes there. on the approach of his force a party of dervishes moved up the hill to the right, and sidney sent a party up the hill to check them. the remainder then formed into square and opened fire upon the main body of the dervishes, who were advancing and who numbered about horsemen and spearmen. the latter attempted to turn the right flank and rear by ascending the mountains, but in each instance they were met by a heavy fire and finally retreated up the pass, losing about thirty killed and many wounded. only three soudanese soldiers were wounded. shortly after the junction of the souakim and tokar forces omar tita arrived in camp. he reported that his tribesmen had abandoned the heights and pass to the enemy. it was decided that the column should return to souakim on the following day, the enemy having retreated bodily towards horasab. the column bivouacked again at teroi wells on the th, and arrived at souakim on the th, where it was enthusiastically welcomed by the inhabitants. the effect of this engagement was that demoralization set in at osman digna's camp. it was known that he had lost over killed and about the same number wounded. nevertheless, by making a considerable detour the remainder of his fighting force managed to reach horasab, whence they dispersed among the hills. thus ended the last fight in the neighbourhood of souakim. the story has now arrived at the point at which the reconquest of dongola was decided upon. for this undertaking every available egyptian soldier was required, and the souakim troops having to be withdrawn, a strong indian contingent was once more despatched to protect souakim. the force, which arrived on the th may, consisted of , men, made up of the th bengal infantry, the th sikhs, the st bombay lancers, the th bombay mountain battery, and two maxim guns, the whole under the command of colonel egerton. the duty of the indian contingent was simply to act as a garrison for souakim, where they remained, but saw no fighting. a question as to whether the expenses of the indian troops should be borne by the taxpayers of the united kingdom or be thrown on the indian budget was raised soon after the indian contingent reached souakim. the matter was warmly discussed in the house of commons on the th july. of the merits of the case there could hardly be a doubt. the force was sent to egypt in order to set free the souakim garrison which was required for the dongola expedition, a matter in which india had not the remotest interest. it could not be pretended that the khalifa was in any way a source of danger to the suez canal, the great highway to india, or that he threatened the interests of that dependency in the slightest degree. nevertheless on a division, by votes to , the house decided that india was to bear the burden (about £ , a month), england paying only the expenses of the transport of the troops, a conclusion so obviously unjust that it shocked the national conscience, and for a time seriously endangered the popularity of lord salisbury's government. chapter lix. in lower egypt. whilst wars and rumours of wars prevailed on her frontiers, egypt, internally, was enjoying peace and prosperity. so completely tranquil was the condition of the country in january, , that a considerable reduction in the strength of the army of occupation was decided on. this was effected gradually until the whole force numbered only , men. this had a double advantage. it not only set free the troops for service elsewhere, but it relieved egypt from the burden of contributing to their support.[ ] the financial tension having been relieved by the london convention of , various reforms were taken in hand, and made steady, if not rapid, progress. amongst them the use of the "courbache" was abolished, and in criminal cases the punishment of imprisonment substituted--a humane and beneficent change, which nevertheless added to the difficulty of collecting the revenue, and led to a considerable increase of crime. the khedive, tewfik pasha, was himself a moderate but sincere reformer. he quite realized that the state of things which under ismail's rule had brought the country to the verge of ruin could not be continued, and gave a loyal support to his european advisers. his prime minister, nubar pasha, who had replaced cherif in january, , when the latter could not be brought to accept british advice with regard to the abandonment of the soudan, was not unfavourable to the english, and for some time found himself able to work in harmony with the various british officials who were now introduced into the government service. unfortunately certain elements existed which were certain to produce friction sooner or later. nubar pasha was a statesman of too much ability and with too important a history to be able for any great length of time to quietly sit down and play a secondary part. hence he gradually grew restive under the advice which england from time to time felt bound to tender to him. he fell out first with sir colin scott moncrieff, the head of the irrigation department, then with sir edgar vincent, the financial adviser, and finally with sir evelyn baring himself. in june, , nubar was dismissed on a personal question which arose between him and the khedive, and replaced by riaz pasha, who had been sulking in retirement ever since he was denied the pleasure of hanging arabi in . under riaz's administration the work of reform continued. more particularly was this the case in the departments relating to finance and irrigation. sir edgar vincent conferred a great benefit on the population by substituting a simple and convenient currency for the chaos of coins of all metals and all currencies which had for many years been in circulation.[ ] extensive changes were introduced in the matter of irrigation. the work upon the "barrage," which regulates the water supply of the delta, was completed in . a proper system of inspection was established, and the native cultivator was no longer compelled to rely upon the goodwill of a corrupt egyptian engineer for the water for his lands. the result was that increased areas of land were brought into cultivation, and the cotton crop in - was nearly double that of the average for previous years. the abolition of the ruinous system of forced labour for the execution of public works, begun in the days of nubar, was completed during riaz's term of office, notwithstanding the persistent obstacles put in the way by france. in the egyptian finances had made such a recovery, and egyptian stock stood so high, that it was found possible to convert the privileged debt and to reduce the interest from to - / per cent. the net result of this and of the conversion of the daira loan was to relieve the budget by £e. , a year. the english, whilst all these improvements were being made, had not become more popular in egypt, but their presence began to be tolerated by the natives, who could not but see, though they would not acknowledge, the benefits which it secured to them.[ ] in the civil service the egyptian functionaries commenced to know their british teachers, and to learn that as long as the former did their duty they would be supported against the tyranny or caprice of their official chiefs, and a feeling of security such as had never been known before was the result. in the question of reforming the native courts of justice had been considered. sir evelyn baring's proposal was to strengthen them by increasing the number of european judges. riaz, on the contrary, was not too favourable to the appointment of foreigners, but he had to give way, and in november, , two additional englishmen had been nominated to the court of appeal, making in all three english and three belgian judges. this, however, did not effect all that was required, and in the spring of mr. (afterwards sir john) scott, a judge of the high court of bombay, with extensive indian as well as egyptian experience, was appointed temporary "judicial adviser" to the government. scott drew up a report, pointing out the defects of the existing system, and, above all, the necessity for a further improvement in the _personnel_ of the courts. riaz pasha strenuously opposed this, and his nominee fakri pasha, minister of justice, wrote a counter-report, condemning all the changes which scott had recommended. sir evelyn baring promptly recognized which side was in the right, and that the question was whether there was to be a reform or not. scott's proposals were accepted, and his appointment was made permanent, so as to enable him to superintend the carrying of them into execution. riaz pasha had to accept the inevitable, which he did with a bad grace, and in may, , he resigned. riaz was succeeded by mustapha pasha fehmi, the present prime minister, the first egyptian premier really in sympathy with the english, with whom he from the first has cordially co-operated. so effectual had been the changes made in the administration of the finances, that, notwithstanding a considerable remission of the land tax, the revenue of the country had risen from £e. , , in , the first year in which the benefit of "the london convention" had been felt, to £e. , , [ ] in , with a large surplus over expenditure, and besides this reserve funds amounting to £e. , , had been created. progress was also made in the work of putting down the slave trade, and in sir evelyn baring was able to write that the traffic was practically extinguished. as a commentary upon this it may be mentioned that a few months later no less a personage than ali pasha cherif, a large landed proprietor and the president of the national assembly, was convicted in the native courts of law of, and sentenced to imprisonment for, being personally concerned in the purchase of slaves for his household. whilst events in egypt were thus progressing the country sustained a severe loss in the death of the khedive, tewfik pasha, which took place after a short illness at helouan, on the th january, . his highness' eldest son, prince abbas pasha hilmy, the present khedive, then seventeen years of age, succeeded to the throne of egypt in virtue of the imperial firman of the th june, . upon the new khedive's arrival from vienna, where he was completing his studies, he received a warm welcome, and by his subsequent acts created an excellent impression on all classes of society. he at once confirmed the former ministers in power and lent his aid to the work of reform. although on the death of tewfik the new khedive was _de jure_ as well as _de facto_ the ruler of egypt, his recognition by an imperial firman from the porte was a formality which nevertheless had to be observed. the preparation of this important document was known to have been completed at constantinople, and an envoy was told off to bring it to egypt. still for some time it did not come. to do honour to the occasion a division of the british mediterranean fleet was despatched to alexandria. it did not, however, please the sultan that his envoy should be thus received, and the official's departure from time to time was postponed. then began a little game of "hide and seek." it was given out that the firman would not be sent until after the approaching fast of "ramadan," and the british admiral, as if tired of waiting, withdrew his ships and put to sea. no sooner was this known to the sultan than the imperial yacht conveying the envoy was despatched in hot haste to egypt. the admiral, however, was not to be baffled. he had only steamed a hundred miles or so from land, and, with his ships in extended order, awaited the return of a fast vessel which he sent to suda bay for news. on her return with intelligence that the envoy had started, the fleet steamed slowly back to the coast of egypt, where, on the arrival of the turkish yacht, the stately ironclads, after saluting, formed in two lines dressed in colours, and escorted her into the harbour of alexandria. when the firman reached cairo it somehow leaked out that it differed in important particulars from what it ought to have been, and before the precious document, for which £e. , was paid, was read on th april, the mistake had to be put right by telegraphic communication with the porte. in june, , the great services rendered by sir evelyn baring in connection with egypt received their recognition in the shape of a peerage which was conferred on the distinguished minister plenipotentiary and diplomatic agent for great britain in cairo. honours were never better deserved. writing of lord cromer, as the new peer must henceforth be called, an eminent author (sir alfred milner), more than once quoted in this book, says:-- "it would be difficult to overestimate what the work of england in egypt owes to the sagacity, fortitude, and patience of the british minister. his mental and moral equipment, very remarkable in any case, was peculiarly suited to the very peculiar circumstances in which he found himself placed. perhaps the most striking feature about him has been a singular combination of strength and forbearance. and he needed both these qualities in an exceptional degree. on one side of him were the english officials, zealous about their work, fretting at the obstruction which met them at every turn; on the other side were the native authorities, new to our methods, hating to be driven, and keen to resent the appearance of english diplomatic pressure. the former were often inclined to grumble with him for interfering too little; the latter were no less prone to complain of his interfering too much. what a task was his to steer an even keel between meddlesomeness and inactivity! yet how seldom has he failed to hit the right mean. slowly but surely he has carried his main points, and he has carried them without needlessly overriding native authority or pushing his own personality into the foreground. he has realized that the essence of our policy is to help the egyptians to work out as far as possible their own salvation.... the contrast between egypt of to-day and egypt as he found it, the enhanced reputation of england in matters egyptian, are the measure of the signal services he has rendered alike to his own country and to the country where he has laid the foundations of a lasting fame." in january, , an incident occurred in cairo which attracted an amount of attention somewhat out of proportion to its real importance. the prime minister, mustapha pasha fehmi, became so ill that his life was despaired of. the khedive thereupon informed lord cromer of his desire to appoint another egyptian statesman, tigrane pasha, in mustapha's place. this was discouraged by the british representative on the ground that tigrane was a christian. the next thing was that the khedive summarily dismissed mustapha and three of his colleagues, and nominated fakri pasha, the late minister of justice, as premier. fakri had been dismissed shortly before, on lord cromer's suggestion, on account of his opposition to judicial reform. at the same time lord cromer was informed that what was taking place was to be followed by a wholesale dismissal of english officials, a report, however, which the khedive has always denied. on the matter being telegraphed to lord rosebery, then british foreign secretary, his lordship took the matter seriously and directed lord cromer to protest, and to inform the khedive that her majesty's government expected to be consulted in such matters as a change of ministry, and that the appointment of fakri could not be sanctioned. the khedive, on this being pointed out to him, consented to cancel the appointment objected to, and to nominate riaz pasha as the substitute to mustapha, which was accepted. the khedive's nominations to the other vacant posts were not found fault with, and there the matter would have ended had not symptoms of an apparent anti-english feeling shown themselves in the capital, and in the tone of the native press generally. in consequence of this, it was determined to strengthen the army of occupation, then numbering only , men, by two additional battalions, which were promptly despatched to egypt. the amusing part of the incident was the interview which took place between lord rosebery and the french ambassador on the th january, when the latter stated that he had called to protest against what he termed a high-handed proceeding which had occurred in egypt. lord rosebery replied that he quite recognized that there was some high-handedness. it then turned out that they were not talking about the same thing, one referring to the action of lord cromer, and the other to that of the khedive. on matters being explained, lord rosebery scored off the ambassador by saying that he was at a loss to understand the latter's meaning, as he could hardly call lord cromer's making a protest a "high-handed proceeding," seeing that that was the express object for which the ambassador had sought the present interview. the serious part of the incident was the view which the british government took of it. lord rosebery, in a despatch dated the th february, declared that 'if the prime minister and the heads of other important departments were to be summarily dismissed in disregard of british advice, there was nothing to prevent the dismissal of any other functionaries, european or native, who might not have the good fortune to fall in with the tendencies of the moment, or whose prominence might afford a favourable opportunity for the display of autocratic power. it was not too much to say that, under these circumstances, the whole fabric so laboriously built up during the last ten years would have been at the mercy of caprice or intrigue, and would rapidly and necessarily have crumbled away.' riaz pasha on his return to power showed himself anything but disposed to work well with the khedive's english advisers. his policy took the form of stubborn opposition rather than active resistance, and it required all the firmness and tact of lord cromer to keep things in the right path. with the promotion of maher pasha to the post of under-secretary at war, attempts were made to interfere with the authority of the sirdar in matters relating to the army, and hardly were these defeated than the further difficulty known as the "frontier incident" occurred. the khedive on his visit to wady halfa in january, , made some observations on the army which were taken by the british officers as a slight upon them, and the sirdar, general kitchener, in consequence, resigned. he, however, withdrew his resignation almost immediately after, at the request of the khedive. the matter was regarded by the british government as an attempt to discredit the english officers, and to undermine their authority with the troops, and lord cromer was instructed to ask that a general order should be issued expressing the khedive's satisfaction with the army, and the officers generally, and also that maher pasha should be removed. both these requirements were complied with and the incident was closed. riaz pasha shortly after resigned, and nubar again returned to power. under his advice the relations of the khedive with the british government became more cordial, and no further "incidents" such as those above recorded took place. chapter lx. the dongola expedition. in a previous chapter, the history of events on the nile frontier was brought down to the month of august, , when wad-en-nejumi's forces, after the crushing defeat they encountered in the engagement at toski, were retreating southwards, and the projected invasion of egypt was suspended. the incidents which marked the next few years may be related in a few words. the years and passed almost undisturbed on the frontier. the chief military command in the province of dongola was vested in one of the khalifa's emirs, called mohammed khalil zogal, with a force and detachments at sunnah, and at suarda, fifty miles south of akasheh. from this last point patrols occasionally went north to akasheh itself, but the nile frontier generally remained quite undisturbed. from korosko, saba bey, in the autumn of , made a reconnaissance towards abu hamid, with some irregulars, and captured one of the dervish outpost forts, which he, a few hours afterwards, was compelled to relinquish. the matter is only worth mentioning by reason of the fact that in the fight which accompanied saba's retreat the notorious suleiman wad gamr, colonel stewart's murderer, was killed. [illustration] in april, , colonel kitchener succeeded sir francis grenfell as sirdar of the egyptian army. in the same year there were signs of increased activity in the nile valley, and between dongola and suarda some , fighting men were kept under arms. in january, , the dervishes again became aggressive, and of them advanced to cut the railway connecting sarras and wady halfa. the raid failed, owing to the precautions taken by colonel wodehouse. the dervishes, however, managed to surprise and outnumber of the egyptian camel corps, who had been sent to follow up the retreat. the egyptians fought courageously, but, having lost their two senior officers, captain pyne and major fuad effendi, were defeated, and had to retire with a loss of no less than thirty-four men killed and fifteen wounded. the dervish loss was estimated at more than double that number. in july of the same year, the dervishes made a sudden descent on beris, the southernmost village of the el khargeh oasis, to the north-west of assouan. in november, the enemy made an attack upon the desert outpost of murad wells, but were repulsed. from this date, with the exception of a raid on a village in the wady halfa district in , the dervishes in the neighbourhood of the egyptian advanced posts observed a strictly defensive attitude. the year brought with it great changes in the entire situation. the reoccupation of the province of dongola had for some time been in contemplation by the egyptian government and its advisers. it was felt that a blow must sooner or later be struck at the power of the khalifa, which, though it had succeeded in laying waste some of the most fertile provinces abandoned by egypt, was known to be waning, if not dying, of its own unpopularity; but no one thought that the blow would be struck so soon. in choosing the moment for action, the british government was influenced to a very large extent by a desire to assist a friendly power in a position of extreme difficulty. only a short time before ( th february, ) a terrible disaster had happened to the italian army in africa, which had been defeated at adowa with heavy loss by the abyssinians under menelik. driven back in the direction of massowah, the remains of the italian forces found it impossible to lend a helping hand to their comrades garrisoned at kassala, who were threatened by the dervishes, and in a situation of imminent peril. one object of the british and egyptian advance which in march, , was determined on, was, by making a diversion in the region of dongola, to save kassala, or at all events its garrison. it was not from purely disinterested motives that this step was decided upon. it was obvious that the moment when a large body of the khalifa's forces was occupied with the italians would be a favourable one for a movement on dongola, whereas if kassala was to fall into the hands of the dervishes, the latter would be let loose to overrun the nile valley. everything in fact was ripe for the expedition. there were, moreover, political reasons for not delaying it. in the valley of the upper nile, the race between the powers for possession of that part of africa was beginning to attract attention. the french were extending their influence from the south-west, and the belgians were sending out expeditions from the south, and there was a general feeling that some corresponding action on the part of great britain was desirable, as soon as a favourable opportunity should occur. speaking in the house of commons in march, mr. curzon, under secretary for foreign affairs, stated that, "in view of the reported forward movements in various directions by the dervishes and the threatened beleaguerment of kassala, the government, acting in conjunction with the government of egypt and their advisers, and in order to avoid danger to italy, to egypt, and to england, and in the interests of europe, had ordered an advance to akasheh." he added that the advance might be extended to dongola, and that the future action of the government was to be "regulated by considerations not merely military and strategical, but political and financial." it was decided that the dongola expedition should consist of about , egyptian troops, under the command of the sirdar. in addition to these, the st battalion of the north staffordshire regiment was to be moved from cairo to wady halfa to relieve the egyptian garrison there, and also to be at hand if required. the route chosen was by rail and river to wady halfa, and thence by a march along the nile bank to the front. the decision of the british government was arrived at so suddenly that it was not even communicated to the khedive and his advisers. the news took cairo by surprise. without any previous intimation it became known at midnight on the th march that colonel hunter, who commanded the frontier force at wady halfa, had been ordered to advance and occupy akasheh, that all available troops were to be pushed up the nile with a view to an advance on dongola, and that the st battalion of the north staffordshire regiment ( th), then quartered in cairo, was to leave immediately for wady halfa.[ ] although the news took cairo by surprise, it was the kind of surprise with which one hears that something long expected and long delayed has at last really come true. for years past the egyptian army had been steadily trained and prepared for the event which the disaster to the italian arms in abyssinia only precipitated. a few words may here be said concerning the state of the army at this period. its formation, begun by sir evelyn wood soon after tel-el-kebir, had progressed slowly but surely. the men had been gradually disciplined under british officers and accustomed by degrees to meeting the dervishes in the numerous frontier skirmishes of the past ten years. in - , egyptian troops were employed upon the lines of communication of wolseley's nile expedition, and some of the camel corps were under fire at kirbekan. backed by british troops, they fought well at ginnis, and they crushed wad-en-nejumi single-handed at argin and toski. at the beginning of the army numbered , men. it consisted of sixteen battalions of infantry, each battalion having six companies of from to men each, and about eight squadrons of cavalry, with camel corps, artillery, &c. of the infantry, ten battalions were composed of fellaheen, taken by conscription, and six of soudanese blacks (volunteers enlisted for life). the fellaheen battalions numbered from to had british colonels and majors; those numbered from to were officered only by natives. the soudanese battalions numbered from to (this last only in course of formation) had british officers, whilst the th and th battalions, made up of reservists called out for the campaign, were also partly officered by englishmen. there were in all about eighty british officers, a number increased to by others sent out on special service in the course of the campaign. a glance must now be taken at the means of transport at the disposal of the sirdar, and it will be seen that, as in wolseley's expedition, the provisioning of the above force at a distance of nearly , miles from its base in cairo formed one of the chief difficulties to be dealt with. in march, , the upper egypt railway was open as far as girgeh, miles above cairo, but it had been prolonged, for government purposes only, to belianeh, eight miles further on. thence everything had to be carried in steamers and native boats to assouan. here men and stores had to be unloaded and conveyed overland by the eight-mile railway to shellal, just above the first cataract, where they were again shipped and taken on to wady halfa. from this last place to sarras, a distance of thirty miles, a railway existed when the campaign began, and this line was continued as quickly as possible in the rear of the army as it advanced. it may here be observed that the rapid construction of this railway, under the direction of nicour bey and captain girouard, of the royal engineers, was not the least notable feature of the campaign. from the rail-head to the front stores had to be carried by convoys of camels and mules, aided on the less broken parts of the river by relief boats, as soon as the rising nile had allowed them to be dragged up the cataract by steamers. the navigation of the nile between wady halfa and dongola is not easy, the broken water of the second cataract extending from wady halfa almost to sarras, and at hannek, miles further on, the third cataract again obstructs the navigation. on the th march, mr. morley moved a vote of censure of the house of commons on the government in connection with the dongola expedition, but on a division the motion was negatived by votes against . there was an incident in connection with the expedition which is of sufficient importance to deserve notice. a few days after the expedition was decided on, the egyptian government, on the th march, applied to the commissioners of the public debt to advance towards the expenses the sum of £ , , to be taken from what is known as the "reserve fund." this fund was created pursuant to the khedivial decree of th july, , under which the financial arrangements made by "the london convention" of , already referred to in a former chapter, were once more modified. the changes made comprised the suspension of the sinking fund of the debt, and the application of the money to form a reserve fund, to meet unforeseen contingencies. one of these was declared to be "extraordinary expenses incurred with the previous sanction of the commission of the debt." four out of the six commissioners agreed in considering the dongola expedition as coming under the above category, and advanced the money. the french and russian commissioners dissented. this led to a lawsuit in the mixed tribunal of cairo, which later on, viz., on the th june, ordered the government to refund the money with interest. the judgment being confirmed on appeal on the nd december, , the khedive's advisers might have found themselves in a position of some difficulty had not lord cromer vigorously taken the matter in hand, and induced the british government to lend the sum which had to be refunded. the amount due under the judgment, £ , , was repaid to the "caisse" on the th december, and the khedive's ministers expressed their lively gratitude. this was still further earned when later on the british government released their claim to be repaid the sum advanced. on st march the sirdar, with major wingate and slatin pasha, and the st battalion of the north staffordshire regiment, strong, left cairo for assouan and wady halfa. at the same time the various egyptian battalions were hurried up the river with all possible despatch. as usual the enterprising firm of messrs. thomas cook & son came in for the principal part of the river transport work. all their steamers, except those engaged in the postal service, were requisitioned by the egyptian government, and, deprived of their handsome fittings and luxurious accommodation, now figured as troopships between belianeh and assouan. between the st and th march, these steamers shipped from the former place no less than , men, besides animals and an enormous quantity of stores. a detachment of the connaught rangers was stationed at belianch in charge of the store depôt established there. it should be mentioned that the th soudanese battalion, forming part of the souakim garrison, marched from kosseir, on the red sea, to keneh, on the nile, following the route across the desert taken by general baird and his army in . meanwhile colonel hunter with his frontier force moved on to akasheh, which for some time past had been the advanced post of the dervishes, and occupied it without opposition. the egyptian troops now concentrated as rapidly as possible at the various posts between wady halfa and akasheh, the staffordshire regiment being left to garrison the former place. the railway was now being pushed forward, and on th may it was completed to a point three miles beyond ambigol, sixty-three miles south of wady halfa. to guard against raids on either flank in the proposed further advance, the west bank of the nile was patrolled by native irregulars, and the important post of murad wells had its garrison of ababdeh "friendlies" strengthened by some two or three companies from one of the egyptian battalions. the post of murad wells, situated about half-way between korosko and abu hamid, was by far the most important of the desert posts. no dervish descent upon the east bank of the river was possible unless these wells had been first secured; consequently there had been repeated struggles for their possession. their guardianship had at the time now referred to been intrusted to the ababdeh arabs in the pay of the government. the last attack on the wells was that made by the dervishes as lately as november, , but which was repulsed with severe loss. the chief of the tribe, saleh bey, who was in command of the defending force, lost his life on this occasion, but was succeeded by his elder brother, ahmed bey, an equally capable leader. on the news of hunter's advance to akasheh, a younger brother, abd-el-azim, on the th april made a bold reconnaissance to the south. crossing the desert with a party of his ababdehs, he struck the nile about forty miles south of abu hamid, and then continuing some eighty miles further along the river, he informed the people of the egyptian advance. they received the news everywhere with the greatest delight, and expressed their joy at the prospect of being delivered from the khalifa's reign of terror. abd-el-azim was able to obtain some useful information of the dervish movements. at abu hamid there were only about fighting men, but berber was held by , of the jehadia, jaalin and baggara tribes. on the st of may the first fight of the season came off in the neighbourhood of akasheh. about noon of the egyptian cavalry, under major burn murdoch, when some four miles from akasheh, suddenly came across mounted baggara, with a further force of about , men on foot, drawn up behind them. the odds being too great, the cavalry was ordered to retire. seeing this movement, the dervish horsemen, advancing amid a cloud of dust, charged down upon the rear troop just at the moment that the cavalry had entered a narrow defile. several of the men were speared and stabbed in the back before the main body had time to wheel and in their turn charge the assailants. this they quickly did in dashing style, and then ensued a hand-to-hand fight which lasted about twenty minutes, at the end of which the dervishes wheeled about and galloped off to the rear of the spearmen on foot. the ground not admitting of another charge, the cavalry then dismounted and opened fire on the enemy. this was kept up till at p.m., just as the th soudanese battalion was arriving in support, the dervishes retired, to the great satisfaction of the small egyptian force, which with jaded horses, and suffering intensely from want of water, had been fighting continuously for three hours under a burning sun. the cavalry had two killed and ten wounded, against eighteen killed and eighty wounded on the enemy's side. on the nd june the arrival of the th soudanese battalion at akasheh completed the concentration necessary for the further advance. from information obtained by the intelligence department it was ascertained that the dervish force, though inferior in number to that of the egyptians, was composed of good fighting material, baggara, jaalins, and jehadias, and was led by the well-known emir hamuda. their total number was estimated at , . on the evening of the th the egyptian troops commenced the advance, quitting akasheh on the march to ferket, on the east bank, sixteen miles distant. the sirdar, who had shortly before reached the front, was in command. the force was divided into two parts, which may be called the river and the desert columns. the river column, under the command of colonel hunter, consisted of infantry and artillery. the infantry was divided into three brigades of three battalions each; the artillery was composed of two field batteries and two maxims, the latter worked by thirty men of the connaught rangers. the desert column, commanded by major burn murdoch, consisted of seven squadrons of cavalry, the camel corps, one infantry battalion mounted on camels, one battery of horse artillery, and two maxim guns. the total force of the two columns was not less than , men. the sirdar's plan for the attack was for the river column to proceed along the nile bank, and the desert column to make a detour to the east, so timed that both columns should reach ferket at dawn, the former attacking from the north whilst the latter cut off the dervish retreat east and south. on the west of their position was the nile, the further bank of which was guarded by egyptian irregulars, so as to prevent the possibility of escape on that side. thus the dervishes were to be completely hemmed in on every side. the river column bivouacked at p.m. at a place distant only about four miles from the enemy, every precaution being taken to prevent news of the advance reaching the dervish force. there were no bugle calls, no lights, and no firing. at . on the morning of the th june the march was resumed, the st brigade taking the ground nearest the river, the nd being on the left, and the rd in the rear. meanwhile the desert column was skilfully guided in the darkness across the desert until it reached the point south of ferket where it had been arranged that it should take up its position. the enemy became aware of the approach of the two columns almost simultaneously, saw that all prospect of retreat was cut off, and hurriedly prepared for action. their formation was largely governed by the position of their camps. their left wing, or wing next the river, occupied the huts of the jaalin camp, and was thrown forward beyond the centre, which was opposite the baggara camp; the right wing again was slightly in the rear of the centre. the engagement began by the dervishes opening fire at a.m. from an outpost on the jebel ferkeh, a mountain on the north side of the village close down by the river under which the river column had to pass. the nd brigade brought a heavy fire to bear upon the hill, and quickly clearing it, the march continued. as the column reached the more open ground beyond jebel ferkeh, the troops opened out, and the brigades on the right and left got into fighting formation, with two battalions thrown forward and one in reserve. the st brigade then moved towards the river to attack the enemy's left wing, whilst the nd brigade advanced on the right wing near the jaalin camp; the rd brigade coming up from the rear to fill the intervening gap. the entire force then steadily advanced, firing as they went, whilst the desert column shelled the enemy from the south and rear. the dervishes fought with the courage of despair, and frequently charged the egyptian troops. small bodies of the enemy continued fighting in the huts forming the different camps long after any organized resistance had ceased to be possible, and obstinately refusing quarter. hut after hut had to be cleared at the point of the bayonet amid vigorous hand-to-hand fighting, and in one hut alone eighty baggara corpses were subsequently found. position after position was taken, and an utter rout ensued. such of the dervishes as survived the attack of the river column fled to the south, only to find their retreat cut off by the desert column, which by this time had advanced on the flank of the enemy, who were thus effectually caught as intended. many of their mounted men, finding themselves headed off by the cavalry, galloped back to die in front of the lines of infantry. the footmen, too, were seen hurrying to and fro seeking a way through the encircling egyptian forces. such of them as succeeded were closely pursued by the cavalry, and at least were thus slaughtered within a few miles of ferket. the enemy's losses were estimated at , killed and wounded, and over were taken prisoners. the egyptian loss, on the other hand, was limited to twenty men killed and eighty wounded. the dervish emir in command was osman azrak, who had lately superseded hamuda; and the former and at least forty other emirs were among the slain. the whole fight was but a short affair, the first shot being fired at a.m., and two hours later the whole thing was over. burn murdoch, with the desert column, continued to follow up the pursuit as far as suarda, which he occupied the next morning. the effect of the engagement at ferket was that fifty miles of the nile valley were cleared of the dervishes; that the only organized army of the khalifa near the frontier was destroyed; and that suarda, which had for many years been the starting-place for raids on the nile villages, became the advanced post of the sirdar's army. chapter lxi. the reconquest of dongola. after the destruction of the dervish force at ferket and the occupation of suarda, no further advance was undertaken for a period of three months. there was, however, plenty of hard work to do, and rarely has an army toiled through a long, hot summer in the way that the sirdar's troops worked in those trying months of june, july, and august. in the year , the railway had to be pushed on, stores had to be concentrated at the front, and steamers to be dragged up the cataracts. in addition to this, there was a severe cholera epidemic to be fought and overcome. the advance post of suarda was fortified and strongly held by the nd infantry brigade, with some artillery. the cavalry and camel corps made reconnaissances further south, but no additional posts were occupied during the summer. one particularly successful expedition was made. it had been ascertained that the emir osman azrak, with a body of dervish cavalry, had come north to kidden, a village near the kaibar cataract, with the intention of collecting the entire male population in the district, and driving them south to dongola to assist in the defence of that place. on june the th, two squadrons of egyptian cavalry and a company of the camel corps, under captain mahon, arrived; and the dervishes, though greatly superior in numbers, fled without fighting. eleven boats loaded with grain were captured, and the unfortunate inhabitants of the village were enabled to make their escape to the egyptian lines north of suarda. from these refugees a good deal of information was obtained as to what the dervishes were doing. the news of the defeat at ferket had been received in dongola with consternation. wad-el-bishara, the governor, sent the intelligence on to the khalifa, asking at the same time for large reinforcements, if the town of dongola was to be defended. in the meantime, he made preparations for defence, fortifying the place, enrolling all the able-bodied men in the province, and calling in from the desert such of the bedouins as were friendly to the cause. all this while the work of pushing forward supplies was rapidly continued. the field telegraph, laid for the most part in the desert sand, followed closely upon the heels of the army. the railway was steadily pushed on by captain girouard, r.e., until it reached kosheh (the scene of the engagement of th december, ), whither on july th the head-quarters camp had been moved for sanitary reasons. during all this period the expedition was pursued by persistent ill fortune. the rise of the nile was unusually late, and consequently the dragging of the gunboats over the second cataract was delayed. heavy rain storms, most unusual in this part of the soudan, occurred, and the last, on august the th, swept away part of the line near sarras. by far the worst visitation of all was the cholera. the disease was imported into egypt in october, , but made only little way during the winter. in the spring of it began to increase, and in the second week of june reached the first military post at assouan. here it was quickly stamped out, but was taken to korosko by the men of the th battalion, and shortly after appeared at wady halfa. here the epidemic was very severe, and difficult to deal with, for halfa could not be isolated, as all the troops and stores had to pass through it, and the epidemic followed them until it reached kosheh. as soon as the cholera appeared at wady halfa the north staffordshire regiment was moved into camp at gemai, six miles further off in the desert, but nevertheless many cases occurred among the men. the epidemic first reached kosheh on july the th. the camp was at once moved back , yards into the desert, and the most stringent precautions were taken to insure the purity of the water supply, as well as to keep the men from bathing or washing clothes in the river. with these precautions, the disease, which was of a very rapid and fatal type, was at last stamped out, but not until egyptian soldiers in all had fallen victims. amongst others were four british officers and two english engineers, who had been sent to supervise the putting together of a new gunboat. at the end of august, the concentration of the troops further south was begun, and begun badly. the st brigade was advanced from suarda, where it had been stationed, to delligo, a distance of forty-five miles. to avoid a bend of the river the men were marched as far as absarat, that is about half of the way straight across the desert. the heat was most oppressive, a scorching sand storm raged part of the time, and the men in heavy marching order, carrying two days' rations and rounds of ammunition, were unaccompanied by water camels, but had to trust to two depôts which had been formed on the road. out of , men no less than , fell out, and ten died and were buried, during this disastrous march, undertaken without any adequate motive. on the th september the st battalion of the north staffordshire regiment, which had moved up from gemai, arrived, and the advance really began. every available soldier being wanted, but small garrisons were left upon the line of communication. kosheh, now the railway terminus, as the most important place, was guarded by the th battalion, but the other posts northwards had only a few men each. the expeditionary force consisted of the north staffordshire, the three brigades which fought at ferket, and a fourth brigade, composed also of three egyptian battalions. with the artillery, camel corps, and infantry the total force amounted to nearly , men. on the th the troops marched into fereig, the north staffordshires being conveyed by steamer. on the th the whole force moved on to bargi, about ten miles further south, and on the th to a spot on the river bank opposite the island of imbos. on the th the army started before daybreak to attack the dervishes, who were reported to be strongly intrenched at kermeh, but wad-el-bishara, who was in command, disappointed the sirdar by moving the whole dervish force across to the west bank during the previous night, and was now holding the village of hafir. then at . a.m. commenced the little battle of hafir, between the egyptian artillery and gunboats and the dervishes on the left bank. a long line of shelter trenches, with loopholed mud walls, ran along the river front of the position, and here five small guns, which had been captured at khartoum, were mounted. these were served by ex-gunners of the egyptian army. the north and south sides of the position were protected by deep morasses, and on the left lay moored against the western bank a small gunboat built by gordon at khartoum, and some twenty-five large sailing vessels laden with grain. the engagement was opened at . a.m. by the egyptian artillery, which was replied to by the dervish guns and riflemen, but little damage was done on either side. half an hour later, commander colville, r.n., arrived with his steamboat flotilla, consisting of his flagship, the _tamaai_, the _abu klea_, and the _metammeh_. the steamers then began to attack the forts, steaming up until they got abreast of them, pouring in their fire, and then dropping down stream until they were out of range. the dervish fire was wonderfully accurate, the ships being struck again and again by the shells while the rifle bullets pierced all the woodwork. one shell actually entered the magazine of the _abu klea_, but fortunately did not explode. there were several casualties. two men were killed, and captain colville and twelve men wounded. this engagement lasted for three hours, and though the practice made by the gunboats was good, and the enemy must have lost heavily, still their fire was not silenced. about , yards from the enemy's position was a large island, called artaghasi, joined by a swampy isthmus to the mainland, now that the nile was falling. three batteries of artillery and the maxim battery were sent to take up a position on the island, just opposite the dervishes. the guns were promptly brought into action, and about an hour later the dervish fire was silenced. nevertheless shots were fired intermittently during the afternoon and through the night, especially in the neighbourhood of the grain boats which the dervishes were trying to discharge. meanwhile the steamers, delivering their parting shots as they passed the forts, went on to dongola, which they reached before sunset. thus ended the fighting for the day. the casualties on the anglo-egyptian side, as already stated, were but trifling; those of the enemy, though reported as heavy, were never exactly ascertained. one writer estimates them at . on the morning of the next day, the th, it became evident that the dervishes had evacuated hafir. some of the inhabitants came out and waved a welcome to the egyptians, while others brought all the boats across to the east bank, where they were immediately taken possession of. it was found that bishara, misled by false information, had evacuated hafir at three in the morning, and marched with all his force to dongola to oppose the crossing which he had been led to expect would take place there. the sirdar, however, learning this, ordered that the river should be crossed at once at hafir, and the movement was begun that very day. it was no small undertaking to throw such a large force across a river a mile and a half wide, with only a few gunboats and sailing craft, and it is hardly surprising that the army was not ready to resume its march upon dongola until the evening of the following day. in the meanwhile, colville's gunboats returned, having thrown a few shells into dongola, and captured several more boat loads of grain. on the evening of september the st, the anglo-egyptian force marched twelve miles further south, and bivouacked on the river bank nearly opposite the island of argo. on this day, too, the _abu klea_ was sent on ahead to watch dongola, where on the following day she was joined by the _tamaai_ and _metammeh_. early in the morning of the nd, the force marched a few miles on to zowerat and rested there. at . a.m. on the rd, lighted by a brilliant moon, the anglo-egyptian force moved on dongola. the gunboat _zafr_ arrived from the north, and was at once sent on to join colville's command. the order of march was as follows:--the st brigade was on the left near the river; on their right was the rd brigade. next came the artillery, maxims, and north staffordshire. on the right, next the artillery, was the nd brigade with the camel corps, horse artillery, and cavalry on the extreme right, away in the desert. the th brigade formed the rear guard. the force presented a front two miles in length. at seven o'clock the dervishes came in sight, and the egyptians briskly advanced to meet them. the former, however, would not fight. time after time they halted in battle array as if to attack, but each time seeing the odds were so hopelessly against them, they suddenly retreated. in the distance, the sound of guns from colville's steamers was heard; but the troops on shore never got a chance of a shot. at . the force was abreast of the dervish camp to the north of the town of dongola, where they saw the egyptian flag waving over the old mudirieh and learned that the blacks garrisoning the place had surrendered to the steamers. then it was seen that there could be no fight, and that all that remained to be done was to pursue the baggaras, jaalins, and others now in full retreat. this task was thereupon taken in hand by the cavalry, camel corps, and horse artillery, whilst the remainder of the force, skirting a morass which lay between the town and the western desert, marched on, till at a.m. they turned the southern end of the swamp and entered dongola. the inhabitants crowded amongst the troops, seizing and kissing the hands of the soldiers and displaying the utmost joy at being delivered from the oppression of the baggara. the important part taken by the gunboats in the capture of dongola may be stated in a few words. they steamed up abreast of the town in the early morning, the rearmost steamer being only a little ahead of the infantry advance. they then opened fire on the defences on the river bank, but there was no effective reply. they also kept up a steady fire on the dervish camp in the desert, already referred to, and afterwards on the baggara arabs, now retiring before the advancing infantry. again there was no reply. at . the blacks garrisoning dongola hoisted the white flag, and the cannonade ceased. commander colville then landed with a hundred soudanese soldiers and hoisted the egyptian flag. the close pursuit by the mounted troops which ensued compelled the dervishes to abandon a large portion of their black foot-soldiers, who were only too glad to remain. indeed, it was one of the most satisfactory features of the day's work that, owing to the absence of fighting by the force on shore, only a few lost their lives. those were of the unfortunate native population, who are always placed in the front ranks of the dervishes. the baggara, however, offered some resistance to the pursuit, and made several charges whilst endeavouring to cover the retreat of the main body. some prisoners, in all, were captured. these were shortly afterwards converted into a black battalion and added to the sirdar's forces. on the night of the th, the anglo-egyptian force bivouacked in and around dongola, or rather the ruins of that once flourishing town. the place was now practically deserted, and in the streets not a soul was to be seen. everywhere was ruin and desolation. on the th, there being no more work for the north staffordshires to do, and the regiment suffering a good deal from sickness, it was sent back to cairo.[ ] as a consequence of the fall of dongola every dervish fled for his life from the province. the mounted men made off across the desert direct to omdurman, and the foot-soldiers took the nile route to berber, always being careful to keep out of range of the gunboats, which were prevented by the fourth cataract from pursuing them beyond merawi. chapter lxii. the advance to berber. preceded by the gunboats, the main body of the expedition after the capture of dongola proceeded southwards, leaving detachments behind to guard the line of communication. debbeh, korti, and merawi were successively seized and occupied. the sirdar also went south to inspect the different positions and receive the submissions of the most important sheikhs, after which he returned to cairo, leaving his forces stationed at the three strategic posts above mentioned. on kitchener's departure the province was placed under military law, major-general hunter, who had fixed his head-quarters at merawi, being in command. courts of justice and a police force were established in the province of dongola, the rebuilding of the town was begun, and the railway was continued along the nile to kermeh, forty miles to the north, and which now became the southern terminus. the former inhabitants were invited to return to their lands, and cultivation was gradually resumed. the principal difficulty in the way of progress was the lack of population, which since had fallen off from , to , , and of these a large proportion consisted of women and children. the number of cattle had also diminished from , to less than , in the same period. whilst dongola was being put in order, the khalifa, who expected that the capture of that province would be followed by a further advance, hastily took steps to fortify omdurman, where he gathered all his available warriors, and awaited events. this was the situation at the end of . we now arrive at the year , when the intended reconquest of the soudan, by the aid of british money and arms, was announced in the house of commons. this took place on the th february, when the "dongola expedition vote" of £ , was moved by the chancellor of the exchequer. sir michael hicks-beach declared on this occasion 'that, since the dongola expedition was undertaken, the british government had never concealed, either from parliament or the country, that, in their view, there should be a further advance in the same direction; that egypt could never be held to be permanently secured so long as a hostile power was in occupation of the nile valley up to khartoum; and that england, having compelled the egyptian government to abandon the soudan, had incurred towards its inhabitants responsibilities for the fulfilment of which the moment had arrived now that the baleful rule of the khalifa was crumbling to decay.' the sirdar's policy of advancing gradually and consolidating at every step the authority of the egyptian government continued to be pursued in . the work of getting up supplies for the large force at the front occupied the first few months of the year, and this was a task of no small magnitude, considering that the country contained little or no produce, and that everything required had to be forwarded from the base in cairo. the necessity for the construction of a new railway for military purposes from wady halfa across the desert viâ murad wells to abu hamid now impressed itself on the sirdar's mind. such a line was almost indispensable in the event of operations being extended in the direction of berber and omdurman. the existing line to kermeh had served its purpose in bringing up supplies and otherwise until the time of the capture of dongola, but its further extension would have to be made through a difficult country, and at a great sacrifice of time and money. it was therefore determined to discard it so far as the expedition was concerned. the immense advantage of making a short cut across the eastern desert instead of following the tortuous windings of the nile valley will be evident to any one who studies the map and notes the respective positions of wady halfa, kermeh, and abu hamid. the saving in distance is about miles. influenced by these considerations, the authorities sanctioned the new line, and the materials having been got together at wady halfa, the work was promptly taken in hand. once commenced, the line, laid for the greater part on the desert sand by working parties from wady halfa, progressed with almost inconceivable rapidity, under the able direction of captain girouard. the country over which the railway passed consisted mostly of undulating desert. there were no bridges, and but few cuttings, and the average rate of progress was a mile and a half a day. although it was known that there was a dervish force at abu hamid, no opposition was encountered from it. in order to present the history of events in chronological order, it is here necessary to make a slight digression and refer to what happened about this period in another part of the soudan. in the month of june the khalifa was compelled to detach a portion of his army from omdurman, and send it, under the orders of his cousin and principal emir mahmoud, to suppress a revolt of the jaalin arabs at metammeh. this tribe, which had long been kept under the khalifa's rule by the terrorism of the baggara, was anxious to join hands with the egyptians, and now struck for freedom. they fortified metammeh, and courageously awaited mahmoud's attack. on the st july it came, and, hemmed in and outnumbered by the dervish horde, the brave jaalins, after three days' resistance, in which all their ammunition was exhausted, were utterly routed. metammeh was captured and burnt, and the country round devastated by the victors, who killed men, women and children indiscriminately. the jaalins had exasperated their foes by their determined resistance, and when the town was taken no less than , of its defenders were massacred. the prisoners were drawn up in line and treated thus: the first was beheaded, the second had his right hand cut off, the third his feet, and so on in succession until they had all been-dealt with. their chief, abdullah wad sud, the head of the jaalin tribe, was taken a prisoner to omdurman, and walled in in such a position that he could neither stand nor sit, and was thus left to die of hunger and thirst. such of the jaalins as escaped declared their allegiance to the khedive, and, being supplied with firearms, and subsidized, joined the ranks of the "friendlies" and became useful allies. one of their first acts, when they had time to reorganize a little, was to seize and hold gakdul wells, a move which not only covered the egyptian right on the subsequent advance, but also saved the province of dongola from the danger of surprise by dervish raiders. towards the end of july the desert railway line had advanced as far as it was deemed prudent to go whilst abu hamid remained in the enemy's possession, and it was determined to take the place by means of troops co-operating from what may be considered the opposite direction, viz., merawi. on the th july, general hunter, with four battalions of soudanese infantry and some artillery,[ ] started from merawi for abu hamid. following the route taken by the river column under general earle in , and passing the battlefield of kirbekan, hunter arrived on the night of the th august within a few miles of abu hamid. the march, which covered miles, made in the hottest time of the year, was accomplished in eight days. at daylight on the th, the troops moved up to attack the enemy, who occupied an intrenched position in front of and within the village. their centre was a rectangular mud-walled inclosure, extending over six acres, and in this were contained the wells, military stores, and quarters for the soldiers. the mud huts of the village were connected by walls, and these, as well as the walls of the inclosure, were loopholed for musketry. the whole position was held by about , men, one-third of whom were armed with rifles, and were mounted. the infantry deployed for the attack, and, as soon as the movement was completed, advanced in line covered by the fire of the artillery on their right. some high ground overlooking the village was first carried with but little resistance. when the troops had approached within yards of the walls they were met by a furious fusillade, and many of the egyptians fell. the rest rushed onwards, and a stubborn house-to-house fight, in which several lives were lost, ensued. in some cases so determined was the resistance that the artillery were obliged to advance before a position could be carried. eventually, when the enemy's mounted men had lost about half their number, the residue fled. they were followed by about of the foot-soldiers, all that was left of the garrison, and abu hamid was then taken and occupied. many prisoners were captured, including the dervish leader, mohammed zein. the serious nature of the fighting may be gathered from the fact that on the egyptian side there were twenty-three killed and sixty-four wounded. amongst the killed were two english officers: major sidney and lieutenant fitzclarence. the dervish loss must have been much heavier, quite four-fifths of the garrison being either killed or taken prisoners. the fugitives continued their flight to omdurman, spreading as they went the news of the defeat.[ ] abu hamid having fallen, every effort was now made to hurry up the rest of the army from merawi, debbeh, and dongola with a view to an advance upon berber, the next dervish stronghold on the river. the nile having by this time risen sufficiently, the gunboats with further troops were enabled to pass the fourth cataract, and by the th august, with the exception of one which came to grief in the cataract, arrived at abu hamid. the sailing boats with more men and stores were also successfully hauled through, and reached abu hamid shortly after. before, however, they had time to arrive, intelligence was received to the effect that the dervishes were evacuating berber, the next stronghold on the river. the importance of this move was at once realized, and a party of "friendlies," under ahmed bey khalifa, were sent on ahead of general hunter's troops to seize the place. meeting with no resistance, the "friendlies" entered berber, where on the th september ahmed was joined by the gunboat flotilla. hunter, with the greater part of his army, entered berber on the th. berber, formerly a large and prosperous town and an important centre of trade, but now sacked and destroyed, was represented by a big dervish village, built on a site some miles north of the original place, and some two miles from the river. on the day that ahmed bey reached berber, two of the gunboats went on to ed damer, a few miles beyond the junction of the river atbara with the nile. here they exchanged some shots with the dervish force which had retreated from berber, and they also succeeded in capturing several boat-loads of grain. ed damer, now become the egyptian advanced post, was occupied by a half battalion of infantry; a fort was erected, and other steps were taken for putting the place in a state of defence.[ ] chapter lxiii. on the river--kassala. whilst hunter was making his advance upon abu hamid and berber, the irrepressible osman digna, of souakim notoriety, had collected a force of , men, besides a large following of women and children, at a spot called adarama, on the bank of the atbara river, about ninety miles above ed damer. here hunter proposed to attack him, but, owing to delays in bringing forward transport and supplies from abu hamid, he was not ready to advance till the rd of october. on this date, taking with him of the th soudanese, some detachments of the camel corps, and two guns, hunter started. marching by the atbara river, the force reached adarama on the th of october, only to find, to their disappointment, that osman, hearing of the approach of the egyptian troops, had evacuated that place only two days before, and crossing the river at guidi, was now with his fighting men and followers making for abu deleh, miles in the desert between omdurman and kassala. adarama was completely deserted, and on the nd november, after having set fire to the village, the expedition returned to berber. osman digna's retreat left the eastern soudan clear of dervishes; and the souakim and berber route, after being so many years closed to trade, was now reopened. amongst the first persons to take advantage of the reopening of the road was a batch of newspaper correspondents, who, being given to understand that no advance on omdurman was likely to take place until the following year, chose that route for returning to cairo. they met with no difficulty on the way, and reported that plenty of water was obtainable all along the route by merely improving the existing wells or digging new ones.[ ] the inaction of the mahdist forces about this time is attributed to the differences which existed between the principal dervish leaders. mahmoud with , men was known to be in the neighbourhood of metammeh, and, young, energetic, and full of ardour, was anxious to advance and meet the invaders. but between mahmoud and osman digna, now at abu deleh, there was a feud on a question of women taken from osman's tribe. consequently osman, like another achilles, sulked in his tents and refused to co-operate in any way with mahmoud. the khalifa at omdurman, under the impression that the attack on his capital could not be much longer delayed, refused to weaken his forces by sending either men or supplies to enable mahmoud to make a move, an operation of which, by the way, he strongly disapproved. mahmoud, not feeling strong enough to risk an attack unaided, was thus constrained to remain on the defensive. on the th october, three of the gunboats were sent, under commander keppel, to reconnoitre mahmoud's position. passing shendy, on the east bank, they steamed on until they sighted metammeh (the scene of the fight with stewart's column in ), on the opposite bank. the town was found to be protected by seven circular mud forts, placed at intervals along the river for a distance of one and a half miles. the gunboats cleared for action, and, with the egyptian flag flying, formed in line of battle in true naval style. as they advanced, keeping always on the eastern or opposite shore, baggara horsemen were seen galloping from fort to fort as if to stimulate the defenders. as the steamers approached they opened fire simultaneously on the two nearest forts at a range of , yards, making excellent practice with their quick-firing twelve and six-pounder guns. the maxims were directed on the horsemen, and so effectively that in a few minutes they disappeared from the scene of action. the forts, mounting each one obsolete brass cannon, returned the fire, but their shell nearly always fell short. two or three, however, struck the gunboats, and one man was mortally wounded. after bombarding at long range for an hour, the flotilla moved up abreast of the position, and poured shell and shrapnel into any place where the enemy was supposed to be. the missiles burst in all directions, with the effect of causing the return fire to slacken perceptibly. as the gunboats passed the forts it was discovered that the embrasures existed only on the northern front, so that when once in the rear of the work no guns could be brought to bear. whilst steaming along the east bank and keeping a look-out for the enemy a party of riflemen opened fire on the vessels at a range of yards. the bullets rattled against the sides of the gunboats, but no one was struck, and a few rounds from the maxims speedily dispersed the sharpshooters, who fled amongst the scrub, leaving their dead behind them. the vessels then steamed past the town, firing as opportunities offered. they then turned and retraced their course down stream, shelling as they went till . p.m., when all firing ceased. the flotilla then dropped down to an island half a dozen miles to the north of metammeh and made fast for the night. on the morning of the th, the reconnaissance was resumed. during the night two additional guns had been mounted in the forts, making the total now nine instead of seven. the manoeuvres of the previous day were repeated, and after a few hours' shelling, the reconnaissance being completed, the gunboats proceeded to withdraw down the river. this being observed from the forts, they redoubled their efforts, and fired shell after shell at the retiring vessels, keeping it up long after they were out of range. at the same time a vast horde of dervish warriors, probably mahmoud's entire force, sprang into sight, streaming across the hills behind which they had fixed their camp. led by a chief on a white horse, they waved their banners and shouted in wild exultation at the supposed defeat of the attacking vessels. keppel does not appear to have thought it worth while to take any notice of the demonstration and continued his course to berber. beyond the casualty above mentioned the egyptians sustained no loss in the two days' engagement. there were no means of arriving at the number of killed and wounded on the dervish side, though from the accuracy of the gunboats' fire and the fact that they expended no less than shells upon the defenders it may be assumed that their loss was considerable.[ ] on the st november general hunter made another reconnaissance with the gunboats, this time as far as the foot of the shabluka, or sixth cataract. as on the previous occasions, the flotilla, both in going and returning, shelled the forts whilst passing metammeh, where a large number of dervishes, both mounted and on foot, showed themselves. the fire in reply from the enemy was ill directed, and the gunboats got back to berber with only three men wounded. the result of the reconnaissance was to show that mahmoud was still in force at metammeh and meant fighting. his men were nevertheless in great difficulty for want of the supplies asked for from omdurman. to procure food they took to raiding the neighbouring jaalin villages, a party of about , of them having the temerity to proceed close to berber, despite the presence of the large egyptian force there. evading the vigilance of the gunboat patrol, the marauders, divided into five bands, proceeded to attack the like number of villages simultaneously. the inhabitants, consisting of "friendlies," had, however, been furnished by the government with remingtons. of these they made such good use that in each instance they beat off the dervish attack and forced the aggressors to retire. after the fall of abu hamid had insured the non-interruption of the work of constructing the military railway from wady halfa to abu hamid, the line was pushed on, and finally completed on st october. abu hamid was not, however, destined to be the terminal station. the advantage of continuing the railway to berber for the purpose of bringing up supplies, as well as to facilitate the further advance in the direction of omdurman was too obvious to escape attention. so, £ , being set apart by the egyptian government to meet the cost, the work was commenced and pushed forward with all possible rapidity. egyptian rule being now practically re-established in the soudan, negotiations took place between the egyptian and italian governments for the retrocession of kassala, in accordance with the arrangement under which egypt assented to the italian occupation. the negotiations resulted in an agreement that the town and contiguous territory should be formally handed over to egypt on the th december, . as the time drew near the sirdar, now major-general sir herbert kitchener, who had been absent at merawi, proceeded to cairo and thence to souakim and massowah, to arrange with the italian military authorities for the passage through the italian colony of erythrea of the egyptian troops which were to relieve the existing garrison of kassala. kassala, which, after being for many years lost to egypt, was now about to be restored, is a place of such interest that any history of the soudan would be imperfect without a reference to its past and present position. the situation of kassala is somewhat remarkable. as will be seen on referring to the map, it forms one of the corners of what may be considered an equilateral triangle, the other corners being at berber and khartoum. the distances between the three places are approximately the same. originally constructed by mehemet ali in for the protection of the fertile province of taka against the abyssinians, kassala gradually acquired a large trade, and developed into a town of , inhabitants. on the th july, , after a siege which lasted twenty months, it fell into the hands of osman digna's followers. kassala, as a dervish stronghold, constituted a grave danger to egypt, which in , being equally unable "to take it or leave it," at the suggestion of the british government, consented to its transfer to the italians, then established at massowah. by the terms of the agreement, italy was to give back kassala as soon as the khedive's rule should be re-established in the soudan. it was not, however, till , and then only after a hard fight between , italian and the like number of dervish troops, that the italians, under general baratieri, succeeded in occupying their new possession. even after kassala had passed into their hands, the italians had anything but a happy time there. the dervish hordes were constantly raiding round the place, and, though beaten off by the superior discipline and valour of the italian troops, the dervishes invariably returned and at times inflicted severe losses on the italians and their native allies. in kassala was regularly invested for three months by the dervishes, and in march the situation reached a most critical stage. the italians, numbering with their native allies , men, had been hopelessly defeated by the abyssinians at adowa on the th february, with a loss of , killed, wounded, and missing. the abyssinians also captured , prisoners and fifty-two guns. as ill-luck would have it, the italians had not only the abyssinians, but the mahdists, on their hands, and kassala was then hemmed in by an immense force of dervishes, and no means existed of relieving the italian garrison. this was the moment when the british government, in the hope of creating a diversion in their favour, hurried forward the dongola expedition in the manner referred to in a previous chapter. this was followed by the italians inflicting a severe defeat on the dervishes, , in number, on the nd april, , at mount mokram, killing some , and compelling the rest to retreat beyond the atbara river. in january, , kassala was again threatened by dervishes, but general vigano once more caused them to retire. the egyptian troops told off to occupy kassala consisted of the th egyptian battalion and some artillery, in all men, under colonel parsons. arriving at massowah from souakim on the th november, , they only waited long enough to be reviewed by the "sirdar," and then marched through the italian territory of erythrea to kassala. they encountered the greatest consideration and kindness at the different italian posts. on the force approaching kassala on the th december, it was received by major de bernardis, the governor, with a guard of honour; and a salute of twenty-one guns was fired from the fort as the egyptian flag was hoisted side by side with that of italy. until the th, the date fixed for the formal cession, the egyptians remained in camp about a mile from the fort. arrangements were now made for taking over a battalion of natives which the italians had raised from amongst the "friendlies," and who readily consented to take service under the khedive. in the interval before the th colonel parsons, by way of trying the qualities of the new levies, indulged them in a little fighting. two places held by the dervishes, el fashir and osobri, situated on the atbara river, and about fifty miles from kassala, were attacked and taken, the latter only, however, after a siege of six days. whilst the "friendlies" were thus engaged, kassala, on christmas day, was handed over to colonel parsons. as the italian flag was hauled down the egyptian artillery saluted it with twenty-one guns, and the italians quitting a place the defence of which had cost the lives of so many of their brave companions, marched away across the desert.[ ] chapter lxiv. from the nile to the atbara. at the beginning of the year , the position of the opposing forces was somewhat as follows:--the khalifa's principal army, numbering upwards of , men, remained concentrated at omdurman. mahmoud, who had by this time been joined by osman digna, was still holding metammeh with a force which had been increased to , men. the egyptian army was occupying berber, with its most advanced post at ed damer. abu hamid, merawi, dongola, and all the other various positions along the line of communication down the river, were also held by egyptian troops. military posts had been established between berber and souakim, and kassala was garrisoned by an egyptian battalion and the "friendlies" taken over from the italians. progress had been made with the railway communications. the egyptian line from cairo had been extended to luxor, and the military line across the desert from wady halfa had been brought forward from abu hamid to abu dis, or nearly a third of the distance to berber. on the last day of the previous year, the intelligence department learnt that mahmoud, pressed, it was said, by the khalifa, either to advance and destroy the egyptians, or to fall back upon omdurman, contemplated moving down the nile on berber. the , highly trained egyptian soldiers, whom the sirdar was able to put in the field, being deemed insufficiently strong to meet mahmoud's undisciplined savages, a brigade of british troops was telegraphed for. in reply, sir francis grenfell, commanding the army of occupation, gave orders on the nd january for the st battalion of the warwickshire regiment, from alexandria, and the st battalions of the lincolnshire and the cameron highlanders, from cairo, to proceed up the river at once. the seaforth highlanders were also ordered to egypt, from malta. no time was lost in sending forward the reinforcements, and before the end of the month they had reached wady halfa, with the exception of the seaforths, which it was intended to station, in the first instance, at assouan. major-general gatacre, an officer who had seen much service in burmah, was despatched from aldershot to take command of the british brigade. whilst the british troops were finding their way to the front, the nile valley railway from kermeh was being utilized for the purpose of bringing down as many of the egyptian soldiers as could be spared from the dongola district to wady halfa, whence they were rapidly transported across the desert by the military railway to abu hamid, and thence to abu dis.[ ] to give warning of mahmoud's advance, the gunboats made frequent reconnaissances to shendy and metammeh, and parties of "friendlies" also patrolled the river banks above ed-damer, and the adjacent desert. the dervishes, on their part, were not wholly inactive, and occasionally indulged in a little raiding, as opportunities offered. on the th february, mahmoud, probably considering that if he were to advance at all, he should do so before the egyptian force was strengthened by the arrival of the british soldiers, commenced to move his army across the nile to shendy preparatory to marching them to attack berber. the dervishes having only a few native boats and some hurriedly constructed rafts as a means of transport, the crossing occupied an entire fortnight. during this period, commander keppel, with two gunboats, steamed to metammeh, and on one occasion dispersed with his maxims a party of riflemen stationed to cover the crossing. no serious attempt, however, was made to oppose the movement of mahmoud's force across the river, and by the th february the operation was completed. apparently a great opportunity was thus lost. with the absolute command of the river which the egyptians possessed in the gunboat flotilla, nothing would have been easier than to have taken advantage of the moment when mahmoud's army was divided into two sections by the nile, to fall upon and destroy each section separately. that something of the kind was not attempted has been explained on the supposition that it formed part of the sirdar's strategy to encourage mahmoud to leave his fortified position at metammeh, and attack the egyptians on open ground. thanks to the facilities afforded by the railway, gatacre's british brigade was, by this time, getting well forward. in the middle of february, the warwicks, lincolns, and camerons were all assembled at abu dis, where they went into camp for some weeks. during this period, everything was done to get the men into good condition by means of route marching and field exercises. following the precedent established by lord wolseley in previous campaigns, the most rigid abstinence in the matter of alcohol was enforced, even the use of the harmless and comforting beer being forbidden.[ ] the result was that the men were in excellent condition, and, as gatacre in one of his addresses to the soldiers told them, "there was an almost total absence of crime, and, he might say, of drunkenness also," the latter observation provoking roars of laughter. the brigade was armed with the lee-metford magazine rifle. this weapon, though possessing great range and penetrating power, had, by reason of its small diameter (· ), the disadvantage of making so small a hole as to render it more than doubtful if it would be effectual in stopping the headlong rush which forms the principal feature of a dervish attack. to remedy this defect, the tips of the bullets were scooped out at the pointed end to the depth of about half an inch. experiments showed that a bullet treated in this manner expands like an umbrella on striking an object, and thus makes a sufficiently large hole for the purpose required. whilst in camp at abu dis, details from each regiment were told off to conduct this operation, and over a million of bullets were subjected to this treatment. the result was that a thoroughly effective missile, appropriately named a "man-stopper," was created. curiously enough, at the moment when general gatacre was preparing his dum-dum bullets for use against the dervishes general kitchener decided to discontinue the use of the dumb-dumb missiles which he had been employing against the correspondents of the press. these weapons, which were equally "man-stoppers," were in the form of general orders by which correspondents were forbidden to go beyond that ever-changing point known as "rail head." as "rail head" was necessarily always somewhat in the rear of the operations, the prohibition was considered a great hardship, as it curtailed the power of the correspondents to send the earliest intelligence of what was going on at the front. a great agitation was made in the english journals at the time, and before further operations were proceeded with the sirdar modified the restrictions within certain reasonable limits. the prohibition thenceforth extended only to going out on reconnaissances, to going near the sirdar, not in itself a serious privation considering the past friction between him and the pressmen, and to standing in front of the firing line during general actions. this last, however, was, according to one writer, mr. g. w. steevens, the author of "with kitchener to khartoum," not strictly insisted upon. space does not allow of entering into the merits of the controversy on the subject of the relations between newspaper correspondents and military authorities. at the same time it may be observed that a general who puts unnecessary obstacles in the way of the press, or exercises too rigid a censorship, always lays himself open to the remark that, like cæsar, he prefers to write his own "commentaries." on the th february, when mahmoud had completed his crossing to the east bank, general gatacre received orders to proceed at once with his brigade to berber. the orders reached him after the troops had been out all day exercising in the desert. nevertheless, tents were at once struck, and the same evening the advance began. as far as "rail head," now at sheriek, the men were transported by train, after which they proceeded on foot, and marching partly by night and partly by day, on the nd march they reached berber, where, in the absence of the sirdar at wady halfa, general hunter had his head-quarters with two egyptian brigades. [illustration: map of the nile and atbara] on the british soldiers reaching berber, the soudanese battalions turned out in force, and gave gatacre's men an enthusiastic reception. the next day the egyptian massed bands played the new arrivals well on their way to their camp at debeker, ten miles south of berber. the only things which gave out during the march were the regulation boots. whether from inferior workmanship, or the effect of climate, the stitching failed, and the soles came off in great numbers. two hundred of the men fell out from footsores, and many of the remainder had to tramp along to their destination barefooted. on the th march the sirdar arrived at debeker, and inspected the troops, which, two days later, moved camp into a healthier spot at darmali. on the th news was received that mahmoud, leaving a garrison at ben naga in charge of his stores, had quitted shendy the day before, and, after engaging keppel's gunboats en route, had descended the nile as far as aliab, midway between shendy and berber. all doubts as to his intentions being now at rest, a general advance of the sirdar's army was ordered to be made to kenur, a deserted village about ten miles north of the atbara. one egyptian battalion was left to guard the store depôt at berber, and a half battalion was placed in charge of the railway, by this time advanced to geneinetti, twenty miles north of berber. the british troops at darmali, on getting orders, at once set out, and marching amid intense heat and over trying ground, reached kenur on the night of the th. on the following day they were joined by the seaforths, which had been sent forward from wady halfa to geneinetti by rail and thence by steamer. the egyptian troops had been advancing meanwhile, and, with the exception of lewis's brigade, the entire anglo-egyptian force was concentrated at kenur on the th. on the th march, mahmoud with his whole army quitted aliab, and started across the desert in an easterly direction towards the river atbara. his intention was known to be to ford the river near a place called hudi and then, after turning the sirdar's left, to operate against berber from the desert. on the intelligence being received, it was determined to intercept, if possible, the dervish forces, and the th saw the anglo-egyptian army on the march to hudi, where, on its arrival, it was joined by the rd (lewis's) brigade, which had just come from fort atbara, a strongly fortified post at the confluence of the nile and atbara rivers. the total force with the sirdar now amounted to about , men. it was composed of four infantry brigades, cavalry, and four batteries of artillery with ten maxims. the british brigade, under major-general gatacre, consisted of the st battalions of the following regiments: the warwickshire (colonel quayle-jones), lincolnshire (colonel verner), camerons (colonel money), and the seaforth highlanders (colonel murray). the egyptian brigades were the st, under lieutenant-colonel maxwell, formed by the th, th, th, and th battalions; the nd, under lieutenant-colonel macdonald, consisting of the nd, th, th, and th battalions; and the rd, under lieutenant-colonel lewis, composed of the rd, th, th, and th battalions. to each of the four brigades an egyptian battery of artillery was attached. the mounted troops consisted of eight squadrons of egyptian cavalry, with horse artillery, under lieutenant-colonel broadwood. the atbara at hudi was at this season a narrow stream of clear water flowing slowly down a sandy valley, about a quarter of a mile wide, with steep banks covered with bush and halfa grass. from hudi the cavalry, with some maxims under colonel broadwood, went forward to search for the enemy, whilst the remainder of the troops, after forming a zeriba from the surrounding mimosa bushes, bivouacked for the night. each man lay down on the bare ground fully dressed with his arms and equipments beside him. the night, passed in the open air, was bitterly cold, and the dust permeated everything. on the same day (the th) that the sirdar's army encamped at hudi, on the north side of the atbara, mahmoud and his followers crossed the river from the south side near nakhila, some thirty miles further up. here he established himself, and commenced intrenching his position. on the st, the sirdar's troops marched further up the atbara, eventually halting at a spot marked in the maps "ras-el-hudi," where they were destined to remain for several days. the sirdar thus placed his force directly between the dervish leader and berber, effectually frustrating the intended move in that direction. there were no houses, huts, or habitations at ras-el-hudi, which derives its name from its geographical position, the arabic word "ras" meaning "head." it was a pretty spot, green and fertile at this time of the year. the atbara here no longer flowed, but was represented only by a series of isolated pools of water, in which fish and an occasional crocodile were to be seen. a zeriba was at once made, and the camp generally put in a state of defence.[ ] whilst the main body of the sirdar's force was advancing, the egyptian cavalry under colonel broadwood, with the horse artillery and maxims, pushed on as far as abadar on the nd, and here the enemy were found in force. they consisted principally of baggara horsemen, who charged with great gallantry a squadron of cavalry, under captain the hon. c. baring, who had to fall back upon his supports. mahmoud's position having been by this time pretty well ascertained, a force consisting of a squadron of cavalry, with a battalion of infantry and maxims in support, was sent on the following day, under the command of major collinson, to tempt the dervish leader to come out. when the party had advanced about six miles in the direction of the enemy's camp, the cavalry met and opened fire upon a force of or baggara horsemen who attempted to surround them. the cavalry, however, managed to get away, and fell back upon the infantry now formed up in square, which, with rifle and maxim fire, eventually forced the baggara to withdraw. the party then returned to the camp. as already stated, mahmoud had left a garrison close to shendy, to enable him to keep up his communications with omdurman, and as a guard for his depôt. on the th march, the sirdar detached one of his battalions, and sent it by commander keppel's steamers to take the position, capture the stores, and destroy shendy. the expedition steamed past the last-named place to the depôt at horh ben naga, and, on the following morning, disembarked the soldiers, who, encountering little resistance, drove out the baggara garrison of men, with a loss of killed, seized the stores, and captured a large number of prisoners, including women and children. shendy was found to be in ruins. such men as it contained gave themselves up. the forts were destroyed, and the place set fire to. the gunboats pursued the fugitives up to the foot of the sixth cataract, and then returned and re-embarked the soldiers, together with the booty, consisting of great quantities of grain, camels, donkeys, arms, and ammunition. a reconnaissance made on the th march showed that mahmoud occupied a strongly intrenched position, surrounded by brushwood, at nakheila, on the north bank of the river, now quite dry, with his front towards the desert, and protected by a thorn zeriba running from his left, at right angles to the river, away to his extreme right. deserters, who now came in daily, reported that mahmoud was in great straits for food, his men existing principally on the nuts of the dôm palm, on cooked cabbage palms, and such other vegetables as could be found in the bush. most of his warriors were disaffected, and were only prevented by strong measures from deserting _en masse_. the dervish chief was in a dilemma whilst the sirdar was in front of him; the projected move on berber was impossible. on the other hand, the reports received of the strength of the anglo-egyptian force convinced him that to move out into the open and attack would be simply to court destruction. to leave the shelter of his intrenchments, and retire on omdurman, was not only a hazardous operation, but one which must result in the demoralization and desertion of his followers. even if he succeeded in reaching omdurman, mahmoud may well have had misgivings as to the nature of the reception that he would meet with at the hands of the khalifa. under these circumstances, he decided that there was nothing for it but to remain where he was, and trust to the strength of his position to repel any attack the sirdar might make. this was not at all what the sirdar wished for. it would have suited him much better to be attacked in the open desert, where his superior rifle and artillery fire would give him an immense advantage, than to have to attack mahmoud in his zeriba in the bush, amid endless intrenchments and unknown obstructions. on the other hand, it was clear that something must be done. the anglo-egyptian force could not sit down for ever watching mahmoud at a distance of only twenty miles. the difficulty of supplying , men by camel transport only was immense. the british troops, too, were beginning to suffer from the heat, inferior food, and inadequate shelter, and dysentery and enteric fever began to break out. realizing all this, the sirdar determined on a general advance, and on the th of april struck his camp at ras-el-hudi, and moved up the river to abadar. though this as a camping place much resembled the last, the troops, who had got tired of ras-el-hudi, with its endless sand storms and discomforts, rejoiced at the change, and the more so because it appeared to indicate fighting. on the th, a final effort to draw mahmoud was made. at daybreak general hunter went out with eight squadrons of cavalry, eight maxims, and a battery of horse artillery. when about , yards from the front of the enemy's position, the troops halted, and hunter, with a few of his officers, went forward to obtain a nearer view. the dervishes showed themselves in no mood to be trifled with, and soon gave hunter as much fighting as he wanted, for, at a.m., two large bodies of baggara horsemen came out of the bush right and left from the enemy's zeriba, and directed their efforts to getting round the flanks of the cavalry, whilst a third party fiercely charged them in front. hunter, to avoid being cut off, had to gallop back to the main body, now engaged in repelling the attack. in this they were assisted by the guns and maxims on the left of the cavalry, and after a sharp struggle, in which the officers had to use their swords and revolvers, the dervish onslaught was repulsed. a large body of footmen then streamed forth from mahmoud's zeriba, and hunter's force found it necessary to retreat to avoid being surrounded. as the cavalry fell back their retiring movement was covered by the maxims, which continued firing, and practically saved the situation. the dervish horsemen still followed, and pressed the rear and flanks of the retreating egyptians, who more than once had to turn and charge to lessen the pressure. when this had been effected, the retreat was continued more deliberately, two squadrons from time to time dismounting, and with their carbines keeping the foe in check, whilst other squadrons took up a position one or two hundred yards in the rear. at last, about a.m., a combined charge of cavalry, headed by colonel broadwood, drove back the assailants, and both the opposing forces withdrew at p.m. the egyptian troops, without being further molested, got back to camp, where, the sound of the cannonading having been heard, the army had turned out ready for action. the egyptian loss in the fight was not heavy, being only eight men killed and fourteen wounded. the dervish loss was put as high as . this, however, was only an estimate, as the retreating egyptians did not stop to count the slain. at the same time, as the maxims fired , rounds, it seems only reasonable to suppose that someone was hit. although the engagement on the th showed that mahmoud meant fighting, it indicated that, so far as related to moving his army out into the open to be destroyed, he was still a "conscientious objector," and, with a view to attacking him in his position, the forward movement of the sirdar's army was resumed on the th april, when the troops brought up at the deserted village of umdabbia, seven and a half miles from the dervish camp. here they remained for two days, whilst the final preparations for the attack were made. at p.m. on the th, after the stores and all superfluous baggage had been left in camp in charge of a half battalion of egyptian infantry, the rest of the troops marched out into the desert. they moved in echelon, with the british brigade in front. behind them was macdonald's brigade; then came lewis's brigade and the camel corps, maxwell's brigade bringing up the rear. the route selected was parallel to the river, and over broken ground and desert sand. although when night fell there was a bright moon, the sand, driven by a strong wind, obscured the view a good deal, and frequent halts had to be made to preserve the formation. when, after marching for three hours, a spot called mutrus, three miles distant from the enemy, was reached, a halt was ordered, and the men, lying down in the desert, rested. chapter lxv. the battle of the atbara. the sirdar's troops were left unmolested during the short rest which they took at mutrus. at a.m. on the th april, the order was quietly given to fall in, and the men promptly obeyed without noise or bustle. half an hour later the final march began, and the full moon being now well overhead, it was possible to see a considerable distance. there was no smoking or talking in the ranks, and the orders were given in a low voice or by a wave of the hand. the rumble of the gun-carriages and the dull thud of thousands of tramping feet were the only sounds which broke the stillness of the desert. at a.m. a huge column of flame was seen on the right. after burning a few minutes it dwindled away, and whether it was a beacon to notify to mahmoud the approach of the army or whether it was the result of accident was never ascertained. at o'clock the troops were abreast of mahmoud's position, where the camp fires could be seen burning. there was then a halt of half an hour. when the advance was resumed at . , the men were no longer in square, but marched in attack formation, the british brigade on the left, macdonald's in the centre, maxwell's on the right, and lewis's in reserve. the artillery and maxims accompanied the infantry marching in the rear upon the right and left. the cavalry and horse artillery were away half a mile to the left. in this formation the troops continued to advance till a.m., when they halted in a commanding position yards from the enemy's camp, which was plainly visible now that the sun began to rise. from the number of men seen running to and fro, and from other signs of activity, it was clear that the approach of the sirdar's force had been perceived. [illustration] the enemy's works presented a sufficiently formidable appearance. behind the long row of cut mimosa bushes forming the zeriba, and constituting the outer line of defence, were palisades of dôm palm logs stuck endways in the ground; and further back amongst the trees was an encircling trench, with numerous cross-trenches, a few earthworks, and a great many shelter huts made of palm branches and grass. at . , the guns were run into position, and opened fire. two batteries of six guns each were placed on the extreme right of the egyptians, and the like number on their left, at the interval between the egyptian and british troops. in this way a cross-fire of twenty-four guns was brought to bear on the position. the artillery was assisted by a rocket battery under lieutenant beatly, r.n. the artillery fire, carefully directed, told with much effect on the zeriba, and soon many of the palisades were seen to be knocked away, whilst the shells at the same time made havoc with the earthworks. the rocket battery, after a few rounds, set fire to the grass huts forming the dervish camp, causing a furious conflagration. the dervishes had hitherto kept well out of sight, but all at once, whilst the cannonade was in full operation, a large party of baggara horsemen was observed galloping from the bush at the southern side of the zeriba and forming up, as if intending to charge the british left. on the maxims opening on them, the baggara at once turned and disappeared in the bush to the south. the bombardment went on for an hour and a half, during which time there was no reply from the zeriba except a few bullets which were fired in the direction of macdonald's and maxwell's brigades, but, being aimed too high, the missiles passed harmlessly overhead. the order to cease firing was now given, and the infantry, who had hitherto been lying down, interested spectators of the scene, formed up for the assault. the camerons, extended in line, composed the front of the british brigade. behind them, in column of companies, were the warwicks on the left, the seaforths in the centre, and the lincolns on the right; continuing the line to the right was macdonald's brigade, with six companies in line and the remainder behind in column of companies as a support. still further to the right was maxwell's brigade, with eight companies in line and four companies in support, and on the extreme right were one of maxwell's battalions, the th, and one of lewis's, the th soudanese, also in column of companies. a squadron of cavalry was sent down towards the river on this flank. on the extreme left, in the rear of the warwicks, lewis's reserve brigade of two battalions was placed to prevent any flank attack on that side. the cavalry and horse artillery were placed half a mile off in the desert to the left of the whole force. the four batteries of artillery were posted on the right of the line, and the maxims, twelve in number, were distributed between the right and left flanks and the centre. at a quarter-past eight, the sirdar and his staff having selected a post of observation, about yards from the zeriba, and general gatacre and most of the field officers having dismounted and placed themselves at the head of their men, the "advance" sounded. then the pipes of the highlanders skirled, the bugles of the other british regiments and the bands of the native battalions played inspiriting tunes, and the whole line, with bayonets fixed, advanced in quick time. the camerons, headed by general gatacre and colonel money, and with a huge union jack (the regimental colours were all left in cairo) in the centre, marched in advance of the british troops. at intervals of every few yards the men halted, and "independent firing" was kept up. then the line again moved forward, and the same thing was repeated. suddenly, when the front rank had got within yards of the zeriba, the return fire from the dervishes commenced. it was mostly aimed too high, but here and there the bullets came dropping in, and the men in front began to fall, sometimes singly and sometimes in little groups of two or three together. still the line swept onward, the troops, both british and egyptian, preserving their formation as perfectly as if on parade. as the camerons reached some elevated ground sloping towards the zeriba, then only a hundred yards off, they became more exposed, and the bullets came more thickly. at last a halt was sounded, and for a minute or two "independent firing" was resumed with good effect, the lee-metfords making no smoke to obstruct the view, whilst, on the other hand, the little white wreaths from the dervish fire indicated to the soldiers the points on which to direct their rifles. the "advance" was then sounded, cries of "come on, men!" were heard, and, amid ringing cheers, the camerons rushed for the zeriba. the first to reach it were general gatacre and captain brooke, his aide-de-camp. seizing the bush with both hands, the general tried to pull it aside, nearly losing his life in the attempt. a dervish rushed upon him with a spear; the general called out to his orderly, private cox, of the camerons, "give it to him, my lad!" and private cox bayoneted the dervish, just in time. immediately after, the camerons, closely followed by the warwicks, seaforths, and lincolns, were up to the zeriba, and beginning to pull away the thorn bushes, being covered, as far as possible, by their comrades. alternate companies dragged at the bushes, whilst the others replied to the dervish fire. in a few minutes, the men succeeded in making gaps in the hedge sufficiently wide to allow of the troops entering, and, in a quarter of an hour from the advance being sounded, the zeriba was entered. it was found necessary to modify the original plan of attack. according to this, the camerons having cleared a sufficient pathway, the battalions in their rear were to pass through their ranks, deploy, and join in a general advance by the whole line. a deployment, however, in face of the rifle fire which was encountered, was not to be thought of, and it could hardly be expected that the camerons, who had hitherto occupied the front rank, were going to stand aside and give place to the men of the other regiments. realizing this, gatacre called on the camerons to push forward, and the battalion, headed by its officers, and with the union jack in front, dashed through the openings. captain findlay, a young officer of the camerons, six feet two inches in height, was the first to enter the zeriba. with sword in one hand and revolver in the other, he sprang over the palisade and first trench, and fell mortally wounded. the rush of the camerons was closely followed by the seaforths and the warwicks, the men pushing on as nearly in line as the obstacles in their way would allow. here the real fighting began. the trenches were full of crouching dervishes, firing point-blank as fast as they could load, and neither asking nor receiving quarter. it soon became, not so much a question of clearing the trenches as of killing every dervish separately. the latter never lost an opportunity. major urquhart, of the camerons, and one of the first to enter the zeriba, was shot dead, from behind, by a dervish who, concealed amongst a heap of dead and dying, was waiting his chance to kill. the enemy's riflemen were not particular in their choice of weapons, and remingtons, martinis, fowling-pieces, and elephant guns were brought into play indiscriminately. major napier, also of the camerons, was so severely wounded with a shot from an elephant gun, as to have to be carried off the field. he died afterwards in cairo. his regiment lost sixty men, either killed or wounded, in less than an hour. the seaforths also suffered severely. lieutenant gore, the first of his regiment to enter the enemy's lines, was shot through the heart, and colonel murray, of the same regiment, was shot in the arm by a round bullet from a fowling-piece. captain baillie had his leg shattered, and died subsequently in cairo. sergeant-major mackay, also of the seaforths, had an experience which is probably unique. when jumping the palisades, a dervish spearman made a drive at him in mid-air, as he was, so to speak, "on the wing." fortunately, the spear only tore the sergeant's kilt, and he then finished his assailant with pistol and claymore. the leading company of the seaforths had eleven men killed or wounded. colonel verner, of the lincolns, a man of such gigantic stature that he could hardly be missed even by an indifferent marksman, had bad luck. one bullet cut his helmet strap and grazed his cheek, whilst a third hit him in the mouth, gouging away his upper lip, and taking off his moustache. the gallant officer refused to retire, and, with a bandaged head, continued with his men till the end. as the men pushed on through the bush, several small mud-built forts had to be carried. each of these mounted an old brass cannon, and was garrisoned by riflemen, who had necessarily to be slain. meanwhile, the egyptians, away on the right, gallantly led by general hunter, had entered a zeriba a little in advance of the british brigade, and steadily fought their way, step by step, across the trenches. several of their english officers fell wounded, though, fortunately, none were killed. some of their hardest fighting took place at a sort of inner zeriba or stockade, situated some thirty yards in the rear of the trenches, and strongly held. from this work a deadly rifle fire was directed upon the advancing troops, and one company of the th soudanese, which was the first to try to take it, was nearly annihilated. other companies of the same regiment then came on in support, and, after hard fighting, effected an entrance and occupied the place. once this position was taken, the combined troops had little difficulty in making their way across the entire zeriba, the dervishes fleeing before them in scattered masses through the palm trees to the atbara river. occasionally a group of fugitives would stop, under cover of the bank, and open a rifle fire on their pursuers, but after a few volleys all made off down the dry bed of the river, which formed the limit of the anglo-egyptian advance. the battle of the atbara was then won, and the order to cease firing was given. this was just twenty-six minutes from the final advance to the assault. then, on the banks of the river, the troops crowded together and indulged in mutual congratulations. the soudanese soldiers wildly danced with joy, and, waving their rifles in the air, shook hands with every british soldier whom they came in contact with. after a brief halt on the side of the atbara, the force was re-formed, and marched back out of mahmoud's works. as the troops returned, they were met by the sirdar, who was greeted with enthusiastic cheers. when he had addressed a few observations to the men, they formed up in squares of brigades to the right of the scene of the original assault. the cavalry, directly the fighting was finished, had been sent off to pursue the dervish horsemen, but they had got too long a start, so colonel broadwood's men only followed for about two miles, where the track was lost in the bush, and the force returned. the losses of the british brigade were five officers (including three who died subsequently) and twenty-one men killed, and ninety-nine officers and men wounded. the egyptian loss was much more severe, fifty-seven men being killed and wounded, including ten of the british officers.[ ] the total, , though heavy enough, would doubtless have been greater had mahmoud's forces been provided with anything like proper ammunition. as it was, their cartridges, originally of poor quality, mostly turned out from the arsenal at khartoum, had much deteriorated; consequently the fire on the dervish side was comparatively ineffective. the enemy's loss could not have been much less than , men in killed and wounded; , bodies were counted in the zeriba, and about more on the south side of the works and in the bed of the river. with the exception of osman digna, who escaped with the cavalry, and mahmoud, who was made prisoner, all the principal emirs were killed. mahmoud's ten guns (only two of which bore traces of having been fired), over banners, together with an enormous quantity of rifles (including a tower rifle of ), swords, spears, ammunition, and equipments, besides some grain and stores, fell into the hands of the conquerors; and , men were made prisoners. it is difficult to arrive at the exact numbers of the dervish force engaged in the fight. mahmoud was known to have left shendy with , men, but some of these had been killed in the fights with the gunboats, and others in the various skirmishes and reconnaissances. his losses from deaths and desertions must have been even more considerable. all his cavalry, which, according to his statement referred to later on, numbered , , were undoubtedly absent when the real fighting began. after allowing for these deductions, it is improbable that the total of his force present at the fight could have exceeded , , approximately the same number as his opponents. the remains of mahmoud's army, numbering probably about , men, continued its flight up the atbara to adarama, a distance of about fifty miles, losing many men on the way. here the fugitives divided into two parties, one of which went to gedaref, and the other, joined by osman digna, to abu deleh. the battle of the atbara was a striking success. the dervish force, like that of arabi at tel-el-kebir, was broken up and dispersed. the dervishes, opposed to an enemy nearly equal in point of numbers, fought well during the brief period that the engagement lasted; but, with their imperfect organization, insufficient artillery, and defective weapons, they would have stood no chance even against a smaller army than that which the sirdar brought against them. this, however, in no way detracts from the merit of the british and egyptian troops, who, not less by their patient endurance and discipline than by their valour in the field, achieved so successful a result. but to go further, and, as many writers have done, to magnify a fight in which a disciplined army in less than half an hour routed a horde of starving savages, into a "brilliant victory," would be exaggeration. no sooner was the fight over, than parties of men were told off to search the interior of the zeriba, which, from all accounts, presented a gruesome spectacle. dead bodies, many of them mangled into mere fragments of humanity, were lying about everywhere. not only men, but women also, were amongst the slain. in the trenches, numbers of unfortunate black prisoners were found lifeless and chained hand and foot, with rifles in their hands. others were discovered with forked pieces of timber round their necks, to prevent their escape. in one place the body of a dervish chief was found pinned to the trunk of a tree by a rocket which had passed through his chest. the slaughter was not confined to the human race alone. hundreds of dead camels, donkeys, sheep, and goats had also fallen victims to the shell and rifle fire, and lay scattered about within the zeriba. whilst the search proceeded a party of the th soudanese came upon the emir mahmoud, concealed in one of the grass shelter huts. he was at once seized, and limping slightly from a bayonet wound in the leg, was conducted before the sirdar. throughout the interview mahmoud, who was a man nearly six feet in height, wore an air of complete indifference. addressing him in arabic, general hunter, pointing to kitchener, said, "this is the sirdar," a piece of information which failed to produce any impression. the sirdar then asked, "why have you come into my country to burn and kill?" to this wholly unnecessary question mahmoud, with sullen dignity, answered, "as a soldier, i must obey the khalifa's orders, as you must the khedive's." a few more questions were put as to mahmoud's emirs and men, to which he gave curt replies. being asked, "where is osman digna?" mahmoud replied, "i don't know. he was not in the fight; he went away with the cavalry.[ ] all the rest of my emirs stayed with me. i saw your troops at five in the morning, and mounted my horse and rode round the camp to see that my people were in their places. then i returned to my quarters and waited. i am not a woman to run away." then, no one having any more conundrums to put, the prisoner was led off by an escort. the same afternoon, as soon as the wounded had been collected, and the mournful duty of burying the dead had been performed, the sirdar's forces, less one egyptian battalion, left to take charge of the spoils and to clear up the dervish camp, marched back to the zeriba at umdabbia, where they arrived before nightfall. from this point, all the troops, with the exception of lewis's brigade, which returned to its former quarters at fort atbara, went, by easy stages, into summer quarters on the banks of the nile. the british troops and those of maxwell's brigade went into camp at darmali, and macdonald's to berber, where on the th the sirdar made his triumphal entry. the whole town was _en fête_, and the main thoroughfare was spanned with palm branches and banners. the route was kept by the troops of the garrison, and a salute was fired as the sirdar approached. the cavalry met him as he entered the town, and escorted him to an elevated platform, which had been erected in the centre of the town and draped with flags. here the sirdar and his staff took their place, whilst the troops, with colours flying and bands playing, marched past in review order. behind the cavalry came the captive mahmoud on foot, with his hands tied behind his back. the dervish leader, though hooted by the crowd, showed no signs of depression, and walked with head erect, as if realizing that he was the most important feature in the show. an immense concourse of people witnessed the sight, and welcomed the troops with acclamations. the women were especially demonstrative, and many of them approached and threatened mahmoud, to whom the expression "kalb!" (dog) was freely used. when the display was finished, the troops went to their camp, and mahmoud was sent down the river and interned at wady halfa. before leaving, mahmoud had an opportunity of seeing an old acquaintance in slatin pasha, whom he had known in the days when slatin was a captive at omdurman. slatin "had suffered many things" at the hands of mahmoud, and their meeting, now that the relative positions of the two men were reversed, was mutually interesting.[ ] a week later the indefatigable gunboats, sent up the river, returned, and reported having fallen in with many of the fugitives from nakheila at aliab. the dervishes refusing to surrender, an engagement ensued, in which of them were killed and made prisoners. some of these reported that many hundreds of their number had died of thirst in the retreat across the desert after the battle. chapter lxvi. the advance on omdurman. in may, , preparations began for the advance on omdurman. the egyptian head-quarters were moved forward to fort atbara, where three months' provisions for , men were directed to be accumulated. though every article had to be sent up from lower egypt, this was rendered less difficult by the recent completion of the railway (hitherto carried as far only as luxor) connecting cairo with shellal, as well as by the prolongation of the military line to abadieh, twelve miles north of berber. at abadieh a naval arsenal, with workshops and factories, was established. here the new screw gunboats _sultan_, _melik_, and _sheikh_, which had arrived from england in sections, were put together and launched. meanwhile, pending the advance, gatacre's brigade, in their summer camp at darmali, were being exercised in route marching and manoeuvring, to keep them in training. the men had by this time got accustomed to the heat, and suffered but little sickness. early in june, there being no immediate fighting in view, the sirdar left for cairo, and later on paid a flying visit to england. several of the british officers also went on leave. on the nd, the views of the british government with regard to the impending advance were stated in the house of commons by sir michael hicks-beach, in introducing the proposal to remit the loan contracted by egypt in for the expenses of the dongola expedition. the chancellor of the exchequer declared that the government did not contemplate the undertaking of any further military operations on a large scale, or involving any considerable expense, for the recovery of the great provinces to the south of khartoum. "what we do anticipate," he went on to say, "is that expeditions may be made by the gunboat flotilla, which will be at the disposal of the administration, to free the waterway of the nile from any interference with the perfect freedom of commerce with the interior, so far as it can be carried on by that waterway." in july the british government decided to strengthen the sirdar's force by additional troops, in the shape of another british brigade, together with cavalry and artillery. the british force which it was proposed to put in the field was a division consisting of two brigades, under general gatacre. the st brigade, commanded by brigadier-general h. g. wauchope, was formed of the battalions which had fought at the atbara, viz., the warwicks, lincolns, seaforths, and camerons; the nd brigade, commanded by brigadier-general the hon. a. g. lyttelton, consisted of the st battalion of the grenadier guards from gibraltar, the st battalion of the northumberland fusiliers and the nd battalion of the lancashire fusiliers from cairo, and the nd battalion of the rifle brigade from malta. in addition, there were the st lancers from cairo, a maxim battery manned by a detachment of the royal irish fusiliers from alexandria, two field batteries ( nd and th) of the royal artillery, and details of royal engineers, army service and medical corps, making a total strength of about , men. the egyptian force which was to co-operate was also increased by another brigade. the whole was to consist of a division, under the command of major-general hunter, composed of four brigades, viz., the st, nd, and rd, under macdonald, maxwell, and lewis respectively, and a th brigade under major (now lieutenant-colonel) collinson, composed of the st, th, th, and th battalions. the cavalry were to be ten squadrons, besides eight companies of the camel corps. the artillery force was to consist of one horse and four field batteries, and one maxim battery. the total egyptian force represented about , men. fort atbara was the point upon which, early in august, the british and egyptian troops began to concentrate. lewis's ( rd) brigade had already gone on ahead to cut firewood for the steamers, and establish depôts of stores at nasri island, ten miles below the sixth cataract. from there lewis went on to wad habeshi, where the rapids commence. the egyptian troops were the earliest arrivals at atbara, which soon became a scene of bustle and activity. the railway, by this time extended to within a short distance of the camp, lent important aid in bringing forward both men and supplies. the gunboats, increased by the new additions to ten in number, also materially assisted in the work of transport. the nile had risen superbly, and no difficulty was experienced in passing up the cataracts. the next point of concentration was fixed at wad hamid, a short distance from wad habeshi, already mentioned, and but little time was lost in sending the troops forward. on one day, viz., the rd august, no less than six soudanese battalions left atbara. the cavalry and transport animals went forward along the western bank of the nile. as the black soldiers left, the white ones began to arrive. even before the last of the steamers conveying the six egyptian battalions had started, the first half of the rifle brigade appeared, the remainder turning up on the following day. the regiment had left cairo on the th and th july, proceeding by rail to shellal, above the first cataract, thence by steamer to wady halfa, and then by rail _viâ_ abu hamid to atbara. general wauchope and his staff came up on the th, closely followed by the artillery, the grenadier guards, the northumberland fusiliers, the st lancers, and the rest of the nd british brigade. it is worthy of observation that, notwithstanding the railway connection established between cairo and assouan, recourse had once more to be had to the steamers of messrs. thomas cook & son for the transport of the horses belonging to the british brigade from khizan, on the river just below luxor, to assouan.[ ] on the th steamers with the st (british) brigade (gatacre's) from darmali passed atbara, going direct to wad hamid. the same day, whilst many of the troops were still waiting for the means of transport, the sirdar took his departure for the front. after he left, and up to the st, more egyptian troops continued to arrive. some of them had marched all the way from souakim, and others had toiled up against the stream from merawi. all were hurried forward from atbara as fast as the means of transport would allow. no sooner did a steamer return from the front than she was refilled and sent off again packed to overflowing with a fresh batch of men. by the rd august all but the last boat-load of soldiers had arrived at wad hamid. the camel corps, following the route taken by the desert column under stewart in , had marched across the bayuda desert to metammeh, and thence to the front. abu klea was found still white with dervish bones. metammeh, the scene of the slaughter of the jaalins in , presented an aspect of utter desolation. when first visited by englishmen after the jaalin massacre, human remains lay about the town in heaps, but the tribe had since removed and buried these. one ghastly souvenir still existed in the shape of a gallows, with portions of eight men suspended thereon. meanwhile from wad hamid reconnaissances had been pushed on as far as shabluka, at the southern end of the sixth cataract, which place, as well as the gorge leading to it, was found to be evacuated. the entrance to the shabluka gorge, where the river is only yards wide, was defended by four forts with embrasures, and might have formed a strong position against any force approaching by the river. it had, however, the disadvantage of being liable to be easily turned by troops operating on land, and probably for this reason the khalifa, instead of making a stand at shabluka, as had been expected, had left the place to take care of itself. the reconnaissance was continued to the island of jebel royan, about thirty-four miles from khartoum, whence, from an elevated position, a distant view of omdurman and the white tomb of the mahdi was obtained. the first person to set eyes on the spot which formed the object of the expedition was major staveley gordon, the nephew of gordon pasha. an advance post was established at jebel royan, and thither the stores which had been accumulated at nasri island were now transferred. on the rd, preparatory to the further advance, the sirdar held a review of the assembled forces, british and egyptian, and the next day the troops began moving off in successive divisions. the cavalry and camel corps were the first to start, closely followed by general hunter and the whole of the egyptian division. on the th the british division marched out, and wad hamid was evacuated. the heat that day is described as most oppressive, and the march over the loose sand told severely on the men, and especially on those of the newly-arrived nd brigade, who fell out in numbers. the steamers, most of them towing long trains of lighters, accompanied the force, whilst others scouted ahead. there being plenty of water in the cataract, the flotilla passed up without trouble. after halting by the way the whole force, on the th, was assembled at el hajir, opposite jebel royan. whilst there news arrived of a disaster which had occurred to the gunboat _hafir_. the vessel, when near shendy, sprang a leak, and suddenly sank within a few yards of the shore. fortunately no lives or stores had been lost. the troops rested at el hajir till p.m. on the th, and then marched to wady abid, where a zeriba was made. the whole of the next day was spent at wady abid, where, on the night of the th, a terrific storm broke over the camp, deluging everything, and causing considerable discomfort. at a.m. on the th the reveille was sounded, and soon after the men, drenched to the skin, set out for sayal. on the st sayal was evacuated, and the troops moved on to suruab. the same day the gunboats shelled the dervish advance camp at kerreri. on the night of the st another storm of wind and rain was experienced, which destroyed the field telegraph in places, and interrupted the telegraph communication for some days. on the st september, the final advance was made to egeiga, a village only six miles north of omdurman. the troops started early, amid heavy rain. several deserted villages were passed, and a little after midday a short halt for refreshments was made, at a place called el gubeih, not far from egeiga, which was reached an hour later. patrols of dervish horsemen had been frequently seen during the march, falling back before the cavalry, and their outposts were driven in beyond egeiga. some time before the main body of the army had reached egeiga, the cavalry, striking off in a south-westerly direction, reached the slopes of jebel surgham, nearly a mile beyond. from this point, at noon, the entire dervish army was seen drawn up in battle array in the desert outside the city. they were in five divisions, and their numbers were estimated at , men.[ ] it soon became evident that this huge force had not come out for the mere purpose of being looked at. it began steadily to advance, with a line in front extending over three miles. at one time the enemy halted, and then again moved forward. the cavalry then proceeded to fall back on egeiga, where the main body of the army, receiving news that the dervishes were advancing to the attack, had hurriedly moved out and formed up in position. after following the retiring troops for some time, the vedettes at p.m. reported that the enemy had halted, and later on it was observed that they were preparing bivouacs and lighting fires. so rapid was the dervish advance that they all but came into action with the rear squadrons of the reconnoitring force. beyond a few shots exchanged between the lancers and the enemy's scouts nothing further happened, and the sirdar's troops, after remaining in position all the afternoon, retired at nightfall to their camp. meanwhile the gunboats, under commander keppel, had proceeded at daylight on the st towing the th howitzer battery royal artillery in barges. steaming up the east bank, with the aid of a party of friendlies, they cleared that side of the river. several villages were found occupied, but these the friendlies took one after another. on the steamers approaching halfiyeh three forts opened on them. the gunboats returned the fire and soon silenced the works, which were then occupied by the friendlies. as the steamers, proceeding in line ahead, rounded tuti island, at the confluence of the blue and white niles, they were fired on by the forts, both at khartoum and at omdurman. the fire, though fairly heavy, was ill directed, and did no harm. a suitable spot having been found on the east bank, the howitzer battery was landed and at once brought into action.[ ] after a few rounds at a range of , yards, the dome over the mahdi's tomb was partially destroyed. the superior weight and accuracy of the steamers' guns ended the naval part of the fight almost as soon as it was begun, and the flotilla, leaving the _tamaai_ and _nazir_ to guard the battery, returned down stream to rejoin the army at egeiga. the night of the st september was an anxious one for everybody in the sirdar's camp. less than five miles separated the opposing armies. information had been received that the khalifa contemplated a night attack upon the position, and preparations to repel it were made. the men all lay down fully dressed on the sand with their arms and accoutrements beside them. though the moon was at its full only twenty-four hours before, the night being cloudy, there was not much light. the gunboats from time to time flashed their electric rays on jebel surgham and the surrounding country with a view to discovering any signs of a dervish advance. at the same time, natives from the village of egeiga were sent out in the direction of the enemy's camp to obtain information, so as to give the idea that the sirdar intended to make a night attack, and in the expectation that this, coming to the khalifa's knowledge, would decide him to remain in his position. as a result the _ruse_ succeeded perfectly, and, with the exception of two false alarms which occurred, the night passed away tranquilly enough. in not making a night attack the khalifa lost a grand opportunity. had he taken advantage of the comparative obscurity to hurl his enormous force upon the sirdar's position there is no saying what might have been the result. the rifle fire of the british and egyptian troops, which was the thing the dervish leader had most to fear, would have been far less effective than by daylight, and might not have been successful in stopping at all points the dervish rushes. had the enemy once succeeded in breaking the line of troops and engaging hand to hand with, say, the egyptian divisions, the difficulty of coming to their aid in the darkness and confusion would have been considerable, and though the ultimate result might have been favourable, it could only have been attained by an enormous loss of life. chapter lxvii. the battle of omdurman. the force under the sirdar's command on the nd september, was thus composed:-- _british troops_: st lancers; nd field battery royal artillery; th howitzer battery royal artillery; two forty-pounders royal artillery. _infantry division, st brigade_ (_wauchope's_): st battalion warwickshire regiment; st battalion lincolnshire regiment; st battalion seaforth highlanders; st battalion cameron highlanders; six maxims; detachment royal engineers. _ nd brigade_ (_lyttelton's_): st battalion grenadier guards; st battalion northumberland fusiliers; nd battalion lancashire fusiliers; nd battalion rifle brigade; four maxims; detachment royal engineers. _egyptian troops_: nine squadrons cavalry; one battery horse artillery; four field batteries; ten maxims; eight companies camel corps. _ st brigade_ (_macdonald's_): nd egyptian battalion; th, th, and th soudanese battalions. _ nd brigade_ (_maxwell's_): th egyptian battalion; th, th, and th soudanese battalions. _ rd brigade_ (_lewis's_): rd, th, th, and th egyptian battalions. _ th brigade_ (_collinson's_): st, th, th, and th egyptian battalions. the gunboat flotilla, under commander keppel, consisted of the twin screw steamers _sultan_, _sheikh_, and _melik_, each carrying two twelve-pounder quick-firing guns, one four-inch howitzer, and four maxims; the large stern-wheelers _fatteh_ and _nazir_, each armed with one twelve-pounder quick-firer, two six-pounder quick-firers, and three maxims; and the small stern-wheelers _tamaai_, _hafir_ (formerly _el teb_), _abu klea_, and _metammeh_, armed with one nine-centimetre krupp and two maxims. each vessel was commanded by a british officer, with a non-commissioned officer of the royal marine artillery as gunnery instructor. the total force, naval and military, may be put down as a little over , men.[ ] the position occupied by the sirdar's force was a favourable one for defensive purposes. it stood on slightly elevated ground with a clear open space of desert dotted with scrub directly in front, and extending for five miles to the base of a group of hills to the westward. in a northerly and southerly direction was a series of hills of moderate elevation, culminating on the north at a distance of about two miles in the kerreri hill, and on the south at a distance of , yards in that of jebel surgham. behind the position was the broad expanse of the nile. the camp formed a sort of angular crescent or horse-shoe, with the ends, practically the flanks of the position, resting on the river, and protected by the gunboats. in the centre were a few mud huts, and within the position, but a little to the north, stood the small village of egeiga. the troops were disposed as follows:--on the left was the nd british brigade, composed of the rifles, the lancashires, the northumberlands, and the guards, with the maxim battery worked by the irish fusiliers. then came the st british brigade, consisting of the warwicks, the camerons, seaforths, and lincolns, with a battery of maxims manned by a detachment of the royal artillery. the soudanese and egyptian brigades, under maxwell, macdonald, and lewis, continued the fighting line round to the right, collinson's egyptian brigade being kept in reserve in the rear of lewis's and macdonald's. maxims were placed between lewis's and macdonald's brigades. the th howitzer battery of the royal artillery had been detached and placed on the opposite bank of the nile, as stated in the last chapter. the nd field battery of the royal artillery, under major williams, was posted, with two egyptian batteries and maxims, on the extreme left of the position close to the river. the two remaining egyptian batteries were put on the north or right side of the position. the st lancers were picketed at the south end of the camp, and the egyptian cavalry and camel corps occupied a position away to the north in the direction of the kerreri hill. along the front of the british line a breastwork of bushes was placed, whilst the egyptian line was defended by a shallow trench.[ ] of the gunboats, two remained to support the howitzer battery opposite omdurman, three others guarded the camp, and the rest were stationed at various points between egeiga and omdurman. at . a.m. on the nd september the bugles sounded the reveille, and the troops all stood to their arms, the hour before dawn being the most usual for a night attack. after waiting an hour, there being no signs of the expected assault, the sirdar resolved to take the initiative and march out against the dervish forces. at . the booming of the guns of the howitzer battery on the east bank and of the gunboats in front announced that the bombardment of omdurman, which had begun the previous day, had recommenced. before the cannonade had lasted many minutes the patrols reported the enemy to be advancing to attack. at . the egyptian cavalry on the right were driven in and posted themselves with the horse artillery, camel corps, and four maxims on the kerreri ridge, on the right flank of the position. the british infantry were led forward a few paces, and formed up in double rank in the rear of their zeriba defences, the egyptian battalions doing the same behind their trenches. at . the shouts of the advancing dervishes became audible, and a few minutes later their flags appeared over the rising ground, which formed a semicircle round the front and left faces of the position. they came on in an immense mass, composed apparently of five divisions, with ranks well kept, and marching with military regularity. as they advanced they chanted, "la ilah illa' llah wa mohammed rasool allah" ("there is but one god, and mohammed is his prophet"). emirs and sheikhs led the way, and baggara horsemen trotted abreast of the men on foot. [illustration] at . major williams's battery of royal artillery, on the left of the position, opened fire at a range of , yards. the guns made good practice, the shells bursting in the midst of the dervish ranks. the enemy replied with a few rounds from some guns on the khalifa's left, but their shells all fell short. the intention appeared to be to cross the sirdar's front, but, suddenly swerving to their right, the main body of the dervish forces bore down towards the southern face, where the british division was posted. simultaneously with this movement another mass of dervishes swarmed out from behind jebel surgham, to assail the left flank of the position. though their riflemen, mounting the hill, opened a long range fire on the zeriba, this attack, being checked by the fire of the gunboats, was not pressed home. thus far the fire of the artillery, which had been supplemented by that from the maxim-nordenfeldts, though it thinned the enemy's ranks, failed to stop their advance, and in a short time the troops on the left and front were hotly engaged. the guards, who were the first of the british infantry to engage, opened with section volleys from their lee-metfords at a range of , yards. then, as the range diminished, the fire ran along to the warwicks, the highlanders, the lincolns, and later on to maxwell's brigade. from one end to the other there was a continuous blaze of flame, the men firing both in volleys and independently. the lee-metfords grew so hot that the men in the firing line had to change them for others held by their comrades in the rear. the weapons gave out no smoke, so the view was uninterrupted. the dervishes were seen falling in heaps, whilst the ground in front was white with dead men's clothing. constantly reinforced from the rear, the assailants made repeated efforts to reach the lines of infantry, and as whole ranks went down others rushed in to fill their places. when the front rank got within yards of the british force, the fire became even more deadly, and the further advance was practically arrested. even at this range, here and there, small bodies of dervishes continued to make isolated attempts to reach the lines, but only to perish in the effort. what took place became less a fight than an execution. one old sheikh, bearing a banner, headed one of the rushes. in a few seconds he was left with but five comrades, who in their turn all dropped, and he alone charged to within yards, at which point he folded his arms across his face and fell dead. up to this period there had been but few casualties, and the fight had been for the sirdar's force about the least dangerous that a soldier ever took part in. while the original advance was being made, a few only of the dervish riflemen paused to fire, and, more for the purpose of working up their martial ardour than anything else, discharged their weapons in the air. even when they took the trouble to aim, the bullets from their remingtons all fell short. as soon as the opposing forces got closer together, things changed, and the enemy's fire began to tell. at the moment when the dervish spearmen were being shot down in their mad rushes, a party of of their riflemen managed to get within about yards of the front, from which point, under cover of a bank, they opened fire. the riflemen on jebel surgham, though shelled by the gunboats, persisted in their fusillade, and casualties became frequent. captain caldecott, of the warwicks, was shot through the head, and died an hour later. one or two other officers, as well as two newspaper correspondents, were wounded, and twenty-five of the camerons and over a dozen of the seaforths had to be carried to the rear. eventually the riflemen in front were dislodged by major williams's battery, which, firing shell among them, caused them to get up and run, only, however, to be shot down by the warwicks, camerons, and lincolns, not a single rifleman being left alive. the attack had hitherto been almost entirely directed on the british troops, but as the fight proceeded the enemy were gradually driven more and more to the right, thus leaving the nd brigade (lyttelton's) out of action, and giving the st brigade (wauchope's) and maxwell's egyptians all the work to do. seeing this, lyttelton moved up the lancashires and the rifles in support of the st brigade. after a while the enemy's onrushes began to diminish. it was not so much that the charging spearmen were driven back, as that they were all killed. the fire of the troops then slackened. just before it ceased altogether a last dervish effort was made. this time it took the form of a cavalry attack. a party of baggara horsemen, about in number, formed up at a distance of about , yards and gallantly charged maxwell's whole brigade. a more hopeless enterprise could scarcely be imagined. nevertheless, though swept down by rifle and maxim fire, the remnant courageously dashed on till within yards of the fighting line, when all that was left of them was a struggling mass of men and horses lying on the ground. it was now about a.m., the main attack was finished, and the great body of the enemy was gradually retiring in a westerly direction toward some hills three miles distant. whilst the khalifa was delivering his first attack on the front and left of the sirdar's position, a large and compact body of dervishes, under the khalifa's son, sheikh-el-din, and the emir wad helu, marched round to attack the right of the position. here, posted on the kerreri ridge of hills, were the egyptian mounted troops, under colonel broadwood, with whom, at a.m., about , of the enemy, advancing rapidly, soon became engaged. on the approach of the dervish force, the guns of the egyptian horse battery at once opened fire at a range of , yards, and the cavalry and camel corps dismounting, joined in with their martini-henry carbines. the dervishes, however, continued to advance, firing as they came on. the force was in far too great a number for broadwood to hope to operate against it alone with any prospect of success, and seeing that the intention was to surround him and cut him off from the zeriba, he directed the camel corps and guns, covered by the cavalry, to fall back upon the right flank of the position. there was some delay in getting the camels to move, and afterwards in taking them and the guns over the rough and broken ground. the dervishes pursued closely, firing all the while. the egyptians from time to time halted, and fired volleys in return. so hardly was broadwood's force pressed at one moment, that two of his guns had to be abandoned. for some minutes the fighting was most severe, hand-to-hand encounters took place, and over sixty of his men fell. the egyptian force had by this time fallen back to a point not far distant from the river, and fortunately at the critical moment one of the gunboats told off to protect the flanks steamed down to afford assistance. it at once opened with shell fire at close range, and inflicted heavy loss on the enemy, upwards of bodies being afterwards counted within a comparatively small area. the intervention of the steamers effectually checked the onslaught, and enabled the camel corps to get to the zeriba, although the dervishes for some time continued the pursuit of the cavalry. after this encounter the dervishes made no attempt to push home their attack on the right, but drew off in good order and retired under cover of the hills. this, with the repulse of the dervish attack already recorded on the left flank, terminated the first stage of the fight. all attacks on the position having now failed, the st lancers, about in number, under colonel martin, were sent out to clear the ground on the left front, and to head off any retreating dervishes from the direction of omdurman. they moved off about a.m., and after crossing the eastern slopes of jebel surgham perceived what looked like a force of from to of the enemy concealed in a khor or ravine, from which a few scattered shots were fired. the lancers then wheeled into line and charged. when they got to a distance of only yards from the position, a body of dervishes, variously estimated at from , to , in number, suddenly rose from the khor and opened fire. the trap laid was now evident enough, but the lancers continued the charge, and, headed by their colonel, dashed on into the khor, fought their way through the dervish ranks, and out at the opposite side. this was not accomplished without the loss of several of their comrades. there was a three-foot drop into the ravine, and this caused many disasters. colonel martin's horse fell at this point, but, with the spearmen cutting and slashing all around him, he managed to get his charger on its legs again, and, with only a stick in his hand, rode through the fight uninjured. the dervishes made a desperate resistance. they reverted to their usual tactics of first hamstringing the horses and then spearing their riders. of the troopers who were unhorsed, hardly a man escaped alive. lieutenant grenfell was killed by a sword-cut received early in the fight, when charging by the side of his men. as soon as he was missed, captain kenna and lieutenant de montmorency rode back to search for him. finding grenfell's body, de montmorency dismounted and proceeded to put it on his horse, which unluckily bolted, leaving him alone to face the dervishes with his revolver. happily captain kenna, with the aid of corporal swarbrick, succeeded in catching the animal, and de montmorency was enabled to join his troop. major wyndham's horse, after carrying him clear of the dervishes, fell dead as he was mounting the slope of the khor. captain kenna, who was at the moment on foot searching for grenfell, put the major on kenna's own horse and mounted behind him, and though the horse kicked them both off, they got safely out of the _mélée_. when the lancers had reached the opposite side they continued their gallop for a distance of about yards, when they rallied. then taking up a position whence they could fire down the khor, they dismounted, and with their carbines opened fire on the enemy, eventually driving them off to the westward. as soon as the dervishes had retired, a party of troopers advanced and recovered the bodies of lieutenant grenfell and others who had fallen. they were hastily buried on the spot. the loss of the lancers in the charge was one officer and twenty men killed, and four officers and forty-six men wounded. besides this, there were horses either killed or injured. the charge itself has been the subject of much criticism. most military men appear to consider that for cavalry to charge unbroken infantry of unknown quantity, over unknown ground, was, to put it mildly, a mistake. its result, so far as the enemy was concerned, was practically nil. by the loss which the cavalry sustained in horses alone they were put out of action, instead of being reserved for the moment when they were required for the purpose of pursuing the fugitives. with the public, however, these considerations were lost sight of in the gallantry displayed by both officers and men, and the charge has long been one of the most popular episodes of the fight.[ ] meanwhile the sirdar about . a.m. had given orders to evacuate the camp and march upon omdurman. the army advanced _en échelon_ of brigades from the left, collinson's brigade in reserve covering the rear of the transport column, and the egyptian cavalry and camel corps on the right and left rear. at . , the front brigades having reached the sand ridge running from the west end of jebel surgham to the river, a halt was ordered to enable the rear brigades to get into position. information was then received that the khalifa, with a large force, was present on the left slopes of jebel surgham, from the summit of which a party of the enemy were now firing. it appears that the dervish army had not returned to omdurman on the previous night, but had bivouacked, some , strong, behind jebel surgham. when daylight appeared, and no attack was made on the khalifa, he divided his forces into three sections. one of these, as already related, attacked the front and left of the sirdar's position, the next moved towards the kerreri heights with the object of enveloping his right, whilst the third, under abdullah himself, remained concealed behind jebel surgham, ready to fall on the sirdar's flank in the advance upon omdurman. the sirdar realized the situation at once, and a change of front half right of the three leading brigades was ordered, whilst two companies of maxwell's brigade stormed and occupied jebel surgham. when the change of front was being effected, the sound of heavy firing on the right was heard, where macdonald's brigade was by this time hotly engaged. to enable macdonald's men to take up position on the right of the echelon, his brigade had to change places with that of lewis, and to move out to the right, so as to allow the latter to come into position on macdonald's left front. whilst carrying out this movement, and at the moment when he was separated by about a mile from the rest of the army, macdonald found himself faced by a strong body of dervishes, advancing from the west, from the direction of jebel surgham. he at once halted and deployed into line to the front to meet the attack. it was not long coming. the dervishes, estimated at , in number, commanded by the khalifa himself, made a determined onslaught on the brigade. the main attack was preceded by a charge of between and mounted baggara, who, advancing in loose order, made straight for the long line of rifles which awaited them. the evident intention was to break macdonald's line and give the men on foot an opening. the attempt was hopeless from the first; it was simply riding to certain death. then the fusillade began, and horseman after horseman rolled in the dust. [illustration] undismayed by the fate of their comrades, the dervish footmen next came on, only to see their front ranks swept away by maxim and rifle fire. not a man got within yards of the fighting line. the plain became dotted with white figures and black upturned faces. the dervishes planted their banners in the ground and gathered round them, only to fall lifeless immediately after. at length the men behind, seeing the slaughter of those in front, stopped at a distance of about yards, whence they continued firing, though assailed by the rifles of lewis's brigade, which by this time was advancing to macdonald's support. the sirdar, learning from general hunter of macdonald's position, despatched wauchope's (british) brigade to his assistance, and ordered the remaining brigades to make a further change of front half right. before, however, the reinforcements reached macdonald, he had practically disposed of the first great attack. still, the fight was not nearly over. whilst macdonald was yet engaged with the khalifa's force, and just at the moment when the order to advance was about to be given, the dervishes behind the kerreri heights emerged into the plain, and moved rapidly forward to deliver a second attack. this new onslaught necessitated a further complete change in the disposition of macdonald's brigade. seeing his front and rear both threatened, and finding himself also in danger of being outflanked, he moved some of his battalions to the right, and deployed them into line, so as to form with the remainder of his brigade a sort of arrow-head, one side facing north and the other west. the dervishes came on in two masses, one commanded by sheikh-el-din, and the other by wad helu, and spread themselves out as if to envelop macdonald's brigade. between this and lewis's there was a gap, into which the warwicks, the seaforths, and the camerons were now rushing at the double, whilst the lincolns hurried off to complete the line on macdonald's right. as the dervishes advanced, macdonald's soudanese received them with a fire so deadly, delivered in the open ground, that nothing could live in the face of it. whilst macdonald was repelling the new assault on his right, lewis's brigade was enfilading the khalifa's attack on the left. the dervish onslaught now began to weaken, and shortly after, as wauchope's brigade came up, ceased altogether. the enemy, who had made their last despairing effort without having been able to push home, now broke and fled. [illustration] thus macdonald, with the aid of lewis's and wauchope's brigades, crushed this second and determined attack. the masterly way in which he handled his force was the theme of general admiration. the slaughter which took place is described as something appalling, and the ground around the scene of the fight was literally strewn with dead and dying dervishes. meantime maxwell's and lyttelton's brigades, accompanied by the nd field battery, had been pushed on over the slopes of jebel surgham, and driving before them the dervish forces under sheikh-el-din, they established themselves in a position which cut off the retreat on omdurman of the bulk of the khalifa's army, who were soon seen streaming off in a disorganized mass towards the high hills many miles to the west, closely pursued by the mounted troops, who cleared the right and front flanks of all hesitating and detached parties of the enemy. the battle was now practically over, and lyttelton's and maxwell's brigades marched down to khor shambat, in the direction of omdurman, which spot was reached at . a.m.; and here the troops rested and watered. the remainder of hunter's division and wauchope's brigade arrived at the same place an hour and a half later. the result of the fight before omdurman was declared in the sirdar's despatch to be "the practical annihilation of the khalifa's army, the consequent extinction of mahdism in the soudan, and the submission of nearly the whole country formerly ruled under egyptian authority." the sirdar, for the skilful generalship and judicious disposition of his forces, which secured him the victory, is entitled to the highest praise, and no one will grudge him the honours with which his services were recognized.[ ] as to the fight itself, it was in many ways, no doubt, a walkover. at the same time it was a lesson in the power of modern arms such as had never been seen before. it showed that against weapons of precision such as those carried by the anglo-egyptian troops even an overwhelming superiority of numbers is not in itself of any avail. it demonstrated once more the pluck and endurance of the british soldier, as well as the good fighting material of which his egyptian allies are composed. whilst giving the sirdar every credit for his victory, it is impossible not to see that the khalifa, by his repeated blunders, completely played into his adversary's hands. the first mistake of the dervish leader was in not remaining within the fortifications of omdurman, from which it would have been impossible to have dislodged him, except at a great sacrifice, instead of advancing out into the open and exposing his imperfectly armed legions to the deadly fire of the sirdar's rifles. in doing this the khalifa chose the one form of attack which gave him the least chance of success. he knew that his men had on other occasions broken the british and egyptian squares, and was desirous of seeing if it could not be done again. in making this calculation the dervish leader totally lost sight of the fact that his enemies possessed both better weapons and superior organization than in days gone by. a second and fatal mistake was in not making a night attack on the sirdar's position, where, if the dervishes had attacked in the darkness with the same impetuous courage which they displayed in daylight, it is by no means impossible that they might have got within the anglo-egyptian lines. a third error was in not originally occupying jebel surgham, which, situated on the left front of the anglo-egyptian force, possessed for defensive purposes unquestionable advantages. had the khalifa occupied this commanding position, the sirdar would have been left with two alternatives. he might either have accepted the challenge, and have taken the hill at a heavy loss, or he might have elected to pass it by, and by making a wide detour in the desert so reach omdurman. this last operation, with the khalifa's forces still unbroken in the anglo-egyptian rear, would have been a hazardous undertaking, and would, moreover, have left the khalifa free to continue his resistance. a further fault was in directing the first attack mainly on the sirdar's left, where the british troops were posted, instead of assailing the egyptian and soudanese battalions on the front and right. by adopting these tactics the khalifa attacked his enemy at the very strongest instead of the very weakest point. in short, the khalifa, as a general, may be said to have been a complete failure, leaving undone those things which he ought to have done and doing those things which he ought not to have done, and there was no skill in him. the dervish loss was immense. no less than , bodies were counted on the field of battle in addition to over in the town of omdurman. their wounded, estimated from the number who crawled down to the river and into the town, was , more, making a total of , altogether out of a fighting force of , men.[ ] besides these, , black troops surrendered and were made prisoners, and three of gordon's old steamers were captured. bearing in mind the nature of the fight, the anglo-egyptian losses were remarkably slight. the british killed were but two officers and twenty-five men; of these no less than twenty-one fell in the mistaken charge of the lancers. the british wounded were eleven officers and men. of the egyptian force one officer and twenty rank and file were killed, and thirteen officers and rank and file were wounded. the total number of casualties in the sirdar's entire army was forty-eight killed and wounded. the sirdar in his despatch reporting the victory did full justice to the officers and men under his command, upwards of of whom were specially mentioned for good service. indeed, so long was the list that it excited a good deal of comment when the nature of the contest and the character of the enemy were taken into account. as a contrast to the above it may be mentioned that in wellington's despatches after waterloo, a fight in which the loss of the british alone was , killed and , wounded, only the names of thirty-two officers are specially mentioned. chapter lxviii. the capture of omdurman. at p.m. on the day of the fight, the sirdar, having ascertained that little or no resistance was to be expected in the town, advanced, with maxwell's brigade and the nd field battery of royal artillery, through the suburbs of omdurman to the great wall forming the khalifa's inclosure. on their way the force was met by a number of sheikhs, bearing a flag of truce, who informed the sirdar that the inhabitants desired to surrender. this was accepted on condition that all the fighting men at once laid down their arms, and gave themselves up. the inhabitants then swarmed out in thousands from their houses, and cheered the troops. leaving two guns and three battalions to guard the approaches, the th battalion and four guns of the field battery were pushed down by the north side of the wall to the river, and, covered by three gunboats, which had been previously ordered to be ready for this movement, the troops penetrated the breaches made in the walls by the howitzers of the th battery, stationed on the opposite bank, marched south along the line of forts, and, turning in at the main gateway, found a straight road leading to the khalifa's house and the mahdi's tomb. the gates of the khalifa's house were found to be barred, and the gunboats proceeded to shell the building from the river. in doing this they narrowly escaped killing the sirdar, who had taken up a position close by. the hon. hubert howard, one of the newspaper correspondents, was struck by a fragment of one of the last shells fired into omdurman, and killed on the spot. the house was shortly after entered, but not without resistance from some of the baggaras concealed there, and who had to be killed. on the house being taken, a move was made on the mosque containing the tomb of the mahdi. here a couple of dervishes rushed out and charged maxwell's men, killing one, and wounding another. both the assailants were bayoneted. the mosque was then entered, and found to be quite deserted. the portion of the mosque in which was the wooden sarcophagus containing the mahdi's remains was thirty-six feet square, and was surmounted by a dome some seventy feet in height. the building was much damaged by the fire from the howitzer battery and gunboats. to the great disappointment of every one, there were no signs of the khalifa, whose capture was the only thing necessary to complete the sirdar's triumph. it appears that the dervish leader had quitted the town only a short time before the entry of the troops, and after he had made a vain effort to collect his men for further resistance. so rapid was his flight that some of the least attractive of his wives, and other incumbrances, were dropped on the road, and over of the baggage camels, which had been told off to accompany him, fell into the hands of the victors. on the subject of the khalifa's last days at omdurman and his subsequent flight, mr. charles neufeld (a german subject, who after eleven years' captivity was found and released by the sirdar), in his lately published book, "a prisoner of the khalifa," writes as follows:-- "the khalifa had been sitting for eight days in the mosque in communion with the prophet and the mahdi, and it was either on the tuesday night or wednesday morning immediately preceding the battle that the decision to move out of town was arrived at. on the wednesday afternoon a grand parade of all the troops was held on the new parade ground, and, while it was being held, alarming news was brought by abd-el-baagi's messengers.... that night the rain came down in torrents, and the following day the army arose uncomfortable, and maybe a little dispirited, but abdullah restored their good spirits by the relation of a vision. during the night the prophet and the mahdi had come to him and let him see beforehand the result of the battle; the souls of the faithful killed were all rising to paradise, while the legions of hell were seen tearing into shreds the spirits of the infidels. "but all the time the gunboats were approaching, and soon shells were screeching through the air over the little shuddering group of prisoners. at night the soft thud of thousands of feet told of the host of fugitives entering the town. it was all very well for the khalifa to order a salute to be fired in honour of a victory; other messengers were hurrying in with grave faces, and desiring to see one of the subordinate emirs before facing abdullah. "between ten and eleven at night a riderless horse from the british or egyptian cavalry came slowly moving, head down, towards the dervish lines. the khalifa had related how, in one of his visions, he had seen the prophet, mounted on his mare, riding at the head of the avenging angels, destroying the infidels. the apparition of the riderless horse was too much; at least one-third of the khalifa's huge army deserted, terrified. when yakoub told him of the desertions, abdullah merely raised his head to say, 'the prophecy will be fulfilled, if only five people stay near me.' his baggara and taaishi stood by him, but they, too, were losing heart, for the khalifa, on his knees, with head bowed to the ground, was groaning, instead of, as customary, repeating the name of the deity. however, he pulled round a little as the night progressed, and invented visions enough to put spirits into the remaining but slightly despondent troops. "when the day had gone hopelessly against him, and he had been persuaded to enter the town, he ordered the drums and ombeyehs to be sounded, and endeavoured to make a final stand at the large praying inclosure. but few obeyed the summons, and of those that came some slunk away, and others jeered at the disconsolate and discredited prophet. finally he sent his secretary to collect his household, but the secretary did not return. stopping two fugitives, he sent them to ascertain the whereabouts of the enemy, and they came upon the sirdar and his staff not , yards away. abdullah, warned in time, contrived to slip away, whilst the sirdar changed his direction and made the complete circuit of omdurman." the gunboats which had been employed in clearing the streets having returned, the remainder of maxwell's brigade, which had been left at the corner of the wall, was now pushed forward, and occupied all the main positions of the town. guards were at once mounted over the principal buildings and the khalifa's stores, and the sirdar then proceeded to visit the prisons and release the european prisoners. amongst the captives liberated, besides neufeld, were joseph ragnotti, sister teresa grigolini, and thirty greeks. neufeld was in chains, which had to be filed off before he was restored to liberty.[ ] in the arsenal were found large stores of ammunition, with thousands of weapons of all sorts, including some sixty cannon, also dervish spears, swords, banners, drums, flint-lock muskets, rifles, camel equipments, and military odds and ends of various kinds, many of them captured from hicks's army nearly fifteen years before. whilst maxwell's brigade was thus occupied, the british brigades and the remainder of the sirdar's army had moved up from khor shambat, which they quitted at . p.m. on arriving at the wall they met with no opposition, and shortly after sunset marched into the town, amidst shouts of welcome from the populace. they continued their march, amid sickening stenches and scenes of misery and desolation, till they reached the open ground on the west side of the town. here, as the various troops came up, they bivouacked for the night. there was a certain amount of street fighting in the darkness, when isolated bands of dervishes from time to time fired upon the soudanese, who could not be restrained from retaliating. these struggles were attended by some loss of life, and no doubt partly account for the or dead bodies found in the town. of the services rendered by the gunboats during the day's fighting it is difficult to speak too highly. during the battle they guarded the left flank of the army, doing great execution with their guns on the dense masses of the enemy. as already related, when the camel corps were so hard pressed, one of the vessels was able, by dropping down stream, to turn back a large body of dervishes coming round kerreri hill. as the sirdar's victorious army advanced, the gunboats likewise pushed on, and went alongside the walls of khartoum, helping to silence the fire from the houses near the river. their services, however, did not end there, and at p.m. they, together with the egyptian cavalry and camel corps, started south in pursuit of the khalifa, the gunboats proceeding up the white nile. unfortunately, they were unable to render much assistance owing to the state of the river, which, having overflown its banks, was, though two miles in breadth, only navigable near the middle. in consequence of the flooded state of the country, which prevented the troops from communicating with the gunboats conveying the forage and rations of the troops, the latter were compelled to abandon the pursuit after following up the flying khalifa for thirty miles over marshy ground. the gunboats continued their course south for ninety miles, but were obliged to return without being able to come in touch with the khalifa, who left the river and fled westward towards kordofan. at a.m. on the rd september, the anglo-egyptian army marched out and bivouacked at a spot four miles south of omdurman, whilst parties were told off to bury the soldiers who had fallen in the battle of the previous day. the battlefield presented a sickening sight. the effect of the expanding bullet had been most deadly. the bodies of the slain lay closely strewn over acres and acres of ground, which were white with their calico uniforms. some of the dead lay composedly with their slippers placed under their head for a last pillow; some knelt as if cut short in the middle of prayer; others were found literally torn to pieces by fragments of shells and by gatling bullets. mingled with the bodies were some seemingly as dead as the rest, but who sprang up when approached, and with sword or spear rushed at the nearest foe. these had in every case to be bayoneted or shot. incidents like those last referred to occurred not only during the search of the battlefield, but also at the period when, the dervish attacks having been successively repulsed, the advance on omdurman was resumed. they were taken advantage of to bring charges of cruelty against the sirdar and his men, which on inquiry proved to be grossly exaggerated in those cases where they were not entirely unfounded. it was alleged that the sirdar ordered, or gave it to be understood, that the dervish wounded were to be massacred; that the troops wantonly killed or wounded unarmed dervishes when no longer in a position to do injury; that omdurman was looted for three days after its occupation; that when the sirdar's force was advancing on the town fire was opened by the gunboats on mixed masses of fugitives, including women and children, in the streets. to these charges the sirdar subsequently gave a categorical denial, which, so far as the allegations related to himself personally, was wholly needless. captain adolf von tiedemann, of the royal prussian general staff, writing on the subject, says:-- "as regards the conduct of lord kitchener, i rode on the day of the battle from beginning to end--_i.e._, from . a.m. till p.m.--with very short interruptions, in his immediate vicinity, and heard and saw everything ordered or done by him. it would be an insult to lord kitchener if i attempted to contradict the insinuations made against him personally; such evident calumnies would never be given credence to for a moment in the mind of any intelligent man possessed of common sense. if the sirdar had been so bloodthirsty as the writer of the article in question[ ] wishes us to believe, he would have found opportunities enough at every step during his entry into omdurman to gratify his desires, for, after the khalifa had fled from the town, crowds of unarmed dervishes rushed towards him, and it would have been easy enough for his escort to have cut them down. lord kitchener received them with kindness, and, as every one on his staff can testify, he did all in his power to put a stop to the street fighting which broke out here and there in the town. putting aside all regard for his personal safety, he, as i saw several times, rode into narrow streets and courtyards, with uplifted hand, calling out to the inhabitants gathered there, 'amân!' ('peace!'). "as regards the killing of the wounded on the battlefield, that was a necessary measure which was as regrettable as it was indispensable. after the first attack of the dervishes had been repulsed, and when the anglo-egyptian army was moving off by brigades to its left towards omdurman, i myself left the staff and rode over a great part of the battlefield, but i registered a mental vow never to do so again. a wounded and apparently defenceless dervish lying on the ground is much more dangerous than his fellow with a whole skin and arms in his hand rushing against one. one knows perfectly what to expect from the latter, while the apparent helplessness of the former makes one forget the necessary caution and also the fact that a bullet fired by a wounded man makes quite as big a hole as one fired by an unhurt person. during my ride over the battlefield i several times saw dervishes who had been lying on the ground suddenly rise and fire off their rifles into the ranks of the troops marching near them or who had already passed by them, and for these latter it was simply demanded, as a measure of self-preservation, that they should secure themselves against such attacks by a chain of scouts pushed to the front. it is not only the moral right, but the duty, of the soldier to make use of his arms against an enemy from whom it is to be expected that he will use his weapons to inflict loss on the troops to which he (the soldier) belongs, and the behaviour of the wounded dervishes was such as to justify this belief. it is quite possible that here and there some wounded enemies may have been shot who had no hostile intentions, and who were only intent on saving their lives, but it is difficult to realize the peaceable intentions of such. to make out a few such isolated instances and accusations of useless cruelty against a whole army appears to me absurd. "besides, one heard of a large number of cases in which not only british, but also black, soldiers received and treated their wounded enemies with great kindness, although at times they had but a poor reward for it. i myself saw a man of the nd field battery giving a wounded dervish a drink out of his water-bottle, holding up his head the while with his hand, and then leaving a piece of bread, which he took out of his own haversack, on the ground beside him." it may be admitted that in the heat of the battle some of the enemy were killed whose lives might have been spared, but this is no unusual occurrence in the best-disciplined armies, also that a number of wounded were killed after the fighting was over. but in all or nearly all such cases it appears that these acts were dictated by necessity, on account of the dervish habit of pretending to be dead, only to make a last and unexpected onslaught on his enemy. such tactics were common at the battle of omdurman, and many of the sirdar's men fell victims in consequence. mr. bennett himself related how he saw with his own eyes a "slightly wounded man suddenly rise up and stab no less than seven egyptian cavalrymen before he was finally despatched." that the troops had to adopt somewhat drastic measures in consequence is likely enough, though what took place was far from being the wanton cruelty and indiscriminate slaughter which was alleged. that omdurman was looted for three days was a charge with even less foundation, inasmuch as the morning after the battle the troops were marched out of the town before daylight to a position some miles distant, and from that time until they went down the river they were not permitted to enter the place, except on one occasion, to which reference is made later on. between the place of bivouac and the town, a line of sentries was established, and through this none but officers were allowed to pass. the charge that the gunboats fired on the fugitives is, if true, only partially so. the fugitives who fled from the battlefield into omdurman were naturally shelled as long as they were within range, otherwise time would have been afforded them to organize a fresh resistance, in which case the town could only have been occupied with heavy loss. as regards the women and children, the sirdar, the day before he directed the gunboats to bombard, sent a warning to the khalifa to withdraw the women and children. more than one person who visited omdurman has reported that, although several bodies of men were seen lying about, in no case was the body of a woman or child found. another accusation was that no attempt was made either on the day of the fight, or on the following day, to do anything for the wounded dervishes, who were left without food, surgical assistance, or water. with reference to this, the sirdar states that, considering the condition of the troops and the means at his disposal, he did everything in his power to relieve suffering amongst the enemy. it must be remembered that the total number of dervishes wounded was estimated at , . to attempt the medical treatment of anything like that number was manifestly far beyond the capabilities of the field hospitals. of these, the large hospital established at khor shambat administered first aid to the wounded, and passed them on to omdurman; some were also treated in the smaller field hospitals in the camps; but in omdurman itself great difficulty was experienced in attempting to administer aid to the large number of wounded, scattered as they were amongst the native houses and huts. to provide for this, an egyptian doctor, hassan effendi zeki, who had been a prisoner with the dervishes, formed a hospital in a central position in the town where upwards of of the worst cases were tended, many outpatients coming daily to have their wounds dressed. according to the "daily news" correspondent, from , to , wounded dervishes were treated in this hospital, to which, according to the same authority, the sirdar, on entering omdurman, directed the inhabitants to bring the wounded. it is difficult to see what more could have been done under the circumstances. besides the matters already referred to, the sirdar was attacked in regard to a step which was taken by his direction, although in his absence (on the subsequent fashoda expedition), namely, the destruction of the mahdi's tomb and the disposal of his remains. what occurred was that the tomb was destroyed by charges of gun-cotton, the body was disinterred, cast into one of the steamer's furnaces, and the ashes thrown into the nile. the head, it is stated, was retained by a british officer in the egyptian service. as what happened excited a good deal of indignation in europe, it is only just to give the sirdar's explanation. he stated that after the battle of omdurman he thought that it was politically advisable, considering the condition of the country, that the mahdi's tomb, which was the centre of pilgrimage and fanatical feeling, should be destroyed; the tomb was also in a dangerous condition owing to the damage done to it by shell fire, and might have caused loss of life if left as it was. he was advised by mahommedan officers that it would be better to have the body removed, as otherwise many of the more ignorant people of kordofan would consider that the sanctity with which they surrounded the mahdi prevented this being done. the sirdar added that "the skull of the mahdi was now buried at wady halfa." when to the above it is added that so high an authority as lord cromer has declared that, under the exceptional circumstances of the case, the destruction of the tomb and the removal of the body were "political necessities," there is little more to be said with respect to an act which, at first sight, every one was disposed to regard with abhorrence.[ ] on the morning of sunday, the th september, the sirdar visited khartoum, being transported across the nile in the gunboat _melik_. at the same time representatives of every corps belonging to the expedition passed over in the _dal_ and _akasheh_. khartoum, though in ruins, presented, as seen from the river, a picturesque and pleasing appearance, with its gardens and palm trees extending almost to the water's edge. gordon's palace, now a ruined mass of buildings, with the upper story fallen in, was still conspicuous. the staircase in front, where he met his death, no longer existed. the adjoining grounds, long since fallen into neglect, were still full of blossoming shrubs, and orange, citron, and pomegranate trees. as the troops disembarked, just thirteen years too late to save the man who had so long and so heroically defended khartoum, a crowd of wondering natives assembled to watch what was about to take place. no sooner had the troops landed than they were formed up into three sides of a square, facing the front of the ruined palace. in the centre were the sirdar, his staff, and the general officers commanding the different brigades. at a signal from the sirdar, the british and egyptian flags were simultaneously hoisted on flag-staffs erected on the palace, and the bands played "god save the queen" and the khedivial hymn, whilst the gunboat fired a royal salute of twenty-one guns, the officers and men all standing at attention. "three cheers for the queen" were then given, the men shouting enthusiastically and waving their helmets in the air. this was followed by "three cheers for the khedive," and again all present heartily responded. the various chaplains attached to the british division now came to the front. the guards' band struck up the "dead march" in _saul_, followed by a funeral march from the egyptian band. the chaplains then performed a short but impressive service, and the soudanese band concluded the ceremony by playing gordon's favourite hymn, "abide with me." the service finished, several of those present, guided by slatin pasha, walked through what were once the streets of khartoum, now only a collection of rubbish heaps. all the stone and building material had been removed to construct the houses at omdurman. the only edifices spared in any way were the palace, the arsenal, and the austrian mission building. only a few of the inhabitants remained in the place which was formerly the capital of the soudan. a detachment of the th soudanese was left to guard the flags which remained floating over the palace, and the rest of the troops then returned to omdurman. on the following day, the whole of the sirdar's army was paraded and marched, with full military display, through the streets of omdurman, as well to give the natives an idea of the strength of the anglo-egyptian force, as to impress on them that the mahdist rule was a thing of the past. the place reeked with filth, and the smell was overpowering. bodies of men and animals lay decomposing in the streets, and on every side was squalor and misery. after this the british troops, with the exception of some companies of the northumberland fusiliers, were shipped off as rapidly as possible to cairo. there was no more fighting to be done, and the men were beginning to feel the after-effects of the past week's marching and fatigue. in addition to this, enteric fever had begun to set in, and the hospital tents were crowded. however, by the end of the month, nearly the whole of the british division had left. chapter lxix. fashoda. on the th september a surprising and unlooked-for incident occurred. one of gordon's old steamers, the _tewfikeyeh_, which had been sent by the khalifa up the white nile, unexpectedly returned to omdurman, only to find that the place had changed hands. on being boarded she at once surrendered to the sirdar. her captain reported that on reaching fashoda he had been fired on by a party of white men, and in support of his statement produced some nickel-plated bullets, of small calibre, and evidently of european manufacture. there was no doubt that a european expedition of some kind had arrived at fashoda, and opinions only differed as to its nationality and object. the sirdar's first step was to order all the newspaper correspondents back to cairo. at a.m. on the th he left omdurman in the postal steamer _dal_. the gunboats _sultan_, _nazir_, and _fatteh_, all towing barges, accompanied him. later on he was joined by the _abu klea_. he took with him an egyptian field battery, one company of the camerons, and also the th and th, soudanese battalions. the river was at its height and very full. steaming with all possible speed against the stream, the flotilla on the morning of the th reached a point called renkh, miles south of khartoum. here they found the khalifa's steamer _safiyeh_ (the vessel employed in the rescue of sir charles wilson in ) and eleven large nuggers with a party of dervishes, who, it appeared, were awaiting reinforcements from omdurman to renew an attack which they had already made on the white men established at fashoda. the vessels were lying on the east bank of the river close to a dervish camp. the dervishes resisted for a while and fired on the sirdar's fleet. the gunboats returned the fire, one of the shells bursting in the _tewfikeyeh's_ boiler and disabling her. the enemy's fire was soon silenced, and a party of the th soudanese then landed and cleared the dervish camp. the steamer and the nuggers having been captured, the flotilla went on its way about noon. the river here continued very wide, with much vegetation on its banks, where crocodiles and hippopotami were seen in numbers. on the th a stop was made for the night ten miles below fashoda, and a letter from the sirdar informed the commandant of the post which was reported as being established there of the approach of the steamers. next morning, when the vessels were about five miles from fashoda, a rowing boat flying a french flag was seen approaching. it contained one of the officers under the orders of captain (afterwards major) marchand, the commander of a french exploring expedition, which it turned out had occupied fashoda since the th july. as fashoda was neared the french flag was seen in the middle of the native village, and near the old egyptian fort the captain's force, consisting of eight officers and senegalese armed with repeating rifles, and some shilluks with native spears, was drawn up. on the steamers making fast, marchand went on board the _dal_ to visit the sirdar, and remained in conference with him three quarters of an hour. the sirdar declared that the presence of a french force was an infringement of the rights of egypt and of the british government, and protested against the occupation of fashoda and the hoisting of the french flag. marchand stated, in reply, that he was acting under the orders of the french government, and that without instructions it would be impossible for him to withdraw. he admitted that, in the face of a superior force, he was not prepared to resist the hoisting of the egyptian flag. when the conference was over the steamers proceeded some yards up stream and landed the sirdar's troops. the egyptian flag was then hoisted about yards from the french flag, on a ruined bastion of the fortifications, and saluted with all ceremony by the gunboats. marchand's force, which had been attacked by the dervishes on the th august, was in great want of ammunition and supplies, and the captain, in expectation of a further attack, had sent his steamer south to bring up reinforcements. leaving the th soudanese with two guns and the steamer nazir, the remainder of the force re-embarked and proceeded south to sobat, where they arrived on the nd, hoisted the egyptian flag, and established a second post. the _abu klea_ remained with part of the th soudanese battalion, and the other steamers then proceeded down the nile to omdurman without further adventure. on the sirdar's arrival, he at once communicated to the foreign office the result of his mission. although want of space renders it impossible to deal fully with the diplomatic incident to which the french occupation of fashoda gave rise, a few particulars may, nevertheless, be given. in the beginning of , a cairo telegram coming through paris announced, somewhat prematurely, that a french expedition, under captain marchand, had arrived at fashoda, and letters from his officers and men, written on their journey, expressed their anxiety to reach the upper nile before the british, and "to display the french flag between khartoum and gondokoro." although little notice was taken at the time of these announcements and aspirations, the knowledge of the marchand expedition was undoubtedly one of the causes which determined the british government to hasten the advance on khartoum. what subsequently occurred seems to have been in great measure foreseen by lord salisbury, who appears to have anticipated that difficulties might arise, not only with regard to france, but with abyssinia as well. in a despatch dated the nd august, , communicating to lord cromer the views of the british government as to the line of action to be taken after the occupation of khartoum, the british premier stated that the sirdar was authorized to send two flotillas, one up the white and the other up the blue nile. the flotilla up the white nile was to be commanded by the sirdar as far as fashoda, and the officer in command of the blue nile flotilla was to go as far as the foot of the cataract commencing about rosiéres. should he before reaching that encounter any abyssinian outposts, he was to halt and await further instructions. the despatch added that, "in dealing with any french or abyssinian authorities who might be encountered, nothing should be said or done which would in any way imply a recognition by the british government of a title to possession on behalf of france or abyssinia to any portion of the nile valley." it was scarcely to be expected that at the moment when the anglo-egyptian operations, undertaken mainly with the object of restoring her lost provinces to egypt, had been crowned with success, england could acquiesce in the occupation of any portion of them by a foreign power, and frequent exchanges of views took place between the british and french governments. the british government asked for the withdrawal of marchand, whom the french minister had termed an "emissary of civilization." this demand the french government was disinclined to agree to. the french contention was that the country bordering the white nile, though formerly belonging to egypt, had by abandonment become _res nullius_, and that the french had as much right to a position on the nile as the germans or the belgians. the british case was that the valley of the nile still belonged to egypt, although her title had been rendered dormant by the successes of the mahdi; further, that whatever title the latter might have acquired passed on the nd september by right of conquest to the british and egyptian governments. lord salisbury declared on the th september that her majesty's government did not consider that this right was open to argument. nevertheless, the discussions on the subject, to which the foreign office declined to give the name of "negotiations," continued for two whole months, and were marked throughout by great firmness on the part of the british cabinet. lord salisbury, besides being backed by the british nation generally, was supported by the leading men amongst the opposition, including lord rosebery, who, in the middle of october, made a speech in which the following passage occurred:-- "great britain has been conciliatory, and her conciliatory disposition has been widely misunderstood. if the nations of the world are under the impression that the ancient spirit of great britain is dead, or that her resources are weakened, or her population less determined than ever it was to maintain the rights and honour of its flag, they make a mistake which can only end in a disastrous conflagration." simultaneously quiet but effective steps were taken to put the defences of the united kingdom in order, and to prepare the fleet for any emergency. in the end the french government, seeing that england was in earnest, made up its mind to retire from an untenable position. the good news was appropriately communicated to the nation by lord salisbury on november th at the lord mayor's dinner to the sirdar, and gave general satisfaction. shortly after, marchand and his force returned to france, and an incident which had seriously threatened the good relations existing between england and france came to an end. whilst the sirdar was making his excursion to fashoda, general hunter, accompanied by a small force, proceeded up the blue nile. here he met no abyssinian marchand disguised as an "envoy of civilization," and returned without having encountered any serious opposition from the tribes along the river. notwithstanding the blow suffered by the mahdist cause at omdurman, there was still some fighting to be done in another quarter. this time the scene of operations was in the neighbourhood of gedaref, about miles south-west of kassala and from the blue nile. this place had, previously to the fall of omdurman, been held by an emir called ahmed fedil with upwards of , men. ahmed, with the object of assisting the khalifa, had withdrawn the greater part of his force from gedaref, and on the th september, colonel parsons started from kassala with , men composed of the th egyptian battalion and some irregulars to dislodge the garrison remaining at gedaref. on the nd parsons arrived in front of the place, and, after defeating some , dervishes, succeeded in occupying it. the fight was severe, the egyptian losses being no less than thirty-seven killed and fifty-seven wounded. meanwhile ahmed fedil, who had failed to reach omdurman, was making his way back towards gedaref, where, on the th, he turned up with , men. he made a determined assault on the town, but his dervishes were defeated by parsons with heavy loss. on the st october they withdrew to some distance, and the egyptian force not being strong enough to pursue, occupied themselves in strengthening their defences. general rundle was then sent up the river to parsons' assistance. rundle reached abu harras, on the blue nile, whence colonel collinson, with the th battalion, started across the desert and joined parsons just in time to see fedil's forces in full retreat in the direction of the river. at rosiéres they found colonel lewis, who had been for several weeks on the look-out to intercept fedil's crossing. a severe fight ensued between the dervishes and the th battalion under lewis, aided by some of the gunboats told off to patrol the river. many of fedil's force were killed and many more surrendered. out of lewis's soldiers, no fewer than were either killed or wounded. the enemy were utterly routed, but fedil succeeded in crossing the river with a few of his followers. several days later he passed over the white nile and joined the khalifa in kordofan. the action at rosiéres was the last fight of the campaign of which the sirdar had so successfully carried on against the mahdists. if there is one thing more remarkable than another in the campaign, it is the excellent administration by the sirdar of the force under his command. the construction of the railway, the management of the commissariat, the slow, sure, and irresistible advance, and the avoidance of accidents or reverses--all these constituted a triumph of administration. the manner in which the transport of the largest force ever sent into the soudan under civilized conditions was effected will bear comparison with any campaign in modern times. another important feature was the comparatively small cost. according to lord cromer's report of the th february, , the total expense from the spring of , when the expedition to dongola was decided upon, till the close of the operations in the soudan, was only £e , , . this included the construction of no less than miles of railway at a cost of £e , , , of , miles of telegraphs at a cost of £e , , and the building of six gunboats at an expense of £e , , thus leaving the military expenditure only £e , . whilst giving lord kitchener the fullest credit for the success achieved, it would be unjust not to refer to the powerful and steady support which in his task he received throughout from england's representative in egypt, lord cromer, who, happily combining in himself the qualities of a soldier and a diplomat, was in a position to give most valuable advice in either capacity.[ ] chapter lxx. destruction of the khalifa. with regard to the further movements of the khalifa. as already stated, after leaving omdurman abdullah fled in the direction of kordofan. following the course of the white nile, he proceeded, with only a few followers, to duem, whence, quitting the river, he struck off in a south-westerly direction to lake sherkeleh, about miles further. there he was joined by some of his shattered forces. subsequently an egyptian fort was established at duem and occupied by the nd egyptian battalion. towards the end of it was reported that the khalifa had with him only a few hundred followers, and against these, in january, , colonel kitchener, a brother of the sirdar, was despatched with men belonging to the nd and th battalions, and about fifty irregular cavalry. starting from duem in the following month, colonel kitchener's troops arrived at the khalifa's supposed position only to discover that he had evacuated his camp, which bore traces of having been occupied by some thousands of men, instead of the few hundreds reported as composing the dervish force. a reconnaissance was then made to within three miles of abdullah's new position, and here kitchener, having placed his men in a zeriba, sent out his scouts. they reported that the khalifa had with him a force of about , men, of which more than half were armed with rifles, and that they were drawn up in fighting order. kitchener, realizing the insufficient number of his troops for an attack, and running short of water, abandoned the zeriba and fell back upon the river. the khalifa followed him as far as the deserted zeriba, but, fortunately for the small egyptian force, did not pursue further. the expedition was then abandoned, and colonel kitchener returned to cairo.[ ] in the subsequent month of june the khalifa was still in the neighbourhood of lake sherkeleh, and raiding the tribes in that vicinity. according to later reports he had been attacked by the tagalla tribe and had sustained heavy losses, by which, and by other causes, his adherents were reduced to as few as , men. on this intelligence reaching cairo it was determined that another attempt should be made against him as soon as the rainy season, then impending, should be over. in september, news arrived that the still uncaptured abdullah, with an army increased to , men, had established himself near jeb el gheddeer, a mountainous spot miles north-west of fashoda. a powerful emir named arabi dafalla, with a numerous following, was reported to be on his way to darfur, with a view to joining hands with the khalifa. the military authorities then decided that the moment had come for finally crushing the khalifa. on the th september, the sirdar reached cairo from europe, and proceeded at once to omdurman, where the arrangements for a further expedition were being rapidly pushed forward. the greatest care was taken to ensure secrecy, but it became known that the force, which was to be under the personal command of the sirdar, would consist of about , men, including four battalions of egyptian infantry, with cavalry, camel corps and artillery, besides irregulars. the troops were to concentrate at kaka, on the white nile, whence they were to march upon jeb el gheddeer, miles distant from the river, at which place it was hoped the fight would come off. the expedition, which was to proceed partly by land and partly by river, was so far advanced that by the end of september the cavalry, camel corps, and artillery had already been sent off from omdurman, and they were joined soon after by the infantry, and on the th october the sirdar and his staff followed in the steamer _dal_. if the war department was reticent with reference to colonel kitchener's expedition, it was even more so with regard to that of the sirdar. of the doings of the latter nothing was permitted to be made public until the th october, when it was officially announced that the khalifa had fled from jeb el gheddeer, and, it being impossible to pursue him at that time, the sirdar had given orders for the troops to return to omdurman. it was added that a reconnaissance to jeb el gheddeer would be made by the cavalry and camel corps before their return. the sirdar's force, after leaving the river at kaka, marched on the road to jeb el gheddeer as far as a place called fungar. here it was found that the khalifa had got thirty hours' start and was moving in a northerly direction across a waterless district, where it would have been very difficult to follow him, and the evasive abdullah was therefore allowed to go his way. notwithstanding that the official announcement was followed by the return of many of the troops to omdurman, and by the appearance of the sirdar in cairo, people were reluctant to believe in the final abandonment of the expedition, and further developments were expected; nor were such expectations doomed to be disappointed. on the th november it became known that the khalifa was seven days' journey from jeb el gheddeer and was making his way towards abba island, on the nile, with a force estimated at considerably over , men. in consequence of this information the sirdar, on the th, suddenly started on his return to omdurman, and the british troops in cairo were ordered to prepare detachments to proceed to garrison omdurman. during the sirdar's absence colonel sir f. r. wingate, then in command at khartoum, learning that dervishes had been seen in the neighbourhood of abba, despatched colonel lewis, with two battalions of infantry and a flotilla of gunboats, to operate along the river and prevent raiding. on lewis reaching a place called alobe, he found that a large dervish force, under ahmed fedil, was encamped close by, but, at daylight, before lewis was able to attack, they had all disappeared. the sirdar, on reaching khartoum, at once ordered wingate to follow up abu fedil. on the th, wingate, with , men, composed of the th and th soudanese battalions, one battalion of irregular infantry, some maxims, and fifty cavalry, arrived at faki shoya, to the west of abba island, where he was joined by of the camel corps, who crossed over from the right bank of the nile. on the evening of the st, the egyptian troops marched towards nefissa, miles from the river, whither it was reported that ahmed fedil had retired. nefissa was reached before daylight on the nd, and it was then discovered that fedil had moved on to abu aadil, four miles further, where he was encamped with about , men. the mounted troops, with guns and maxims, were at once sent forward to engage the dervishes and hold them in check until wingate's main body should come up. this movement was ably carried out. the mounted force promptly attacked the enemy's camp with gun and rifle fire, meeting with a warm but badly-directed fire in return. the dervishes rushed from the wood and charged up to within sixty yards of the guns, only, however, to be shot down in hundreds. wingate then brought up the infantry in support, and, making a general advance, cleared the whole position. the dervishes, utterly routed, bolted through the bush, followed by the cavalry. four thousand of the enemy are said to have been killed in the fight and pursuit. after the action, which began at a.m. and lasted only about an hour, the troops halted to rest. it now remained to find the khalifa abdullah, who was known to be advancing towards el ghedid, with the object of joining his forces with those of ahmed fedil. thither it was resolved to push on, and at midnight on the nd the troops again started, reaching el ghedid about a.m. on the rd. here water, of which they were much in need, was found, and news came that the khalifa and his army were encamped only seven miles off at om debrikat. the cavalry and maxims were immediately sent out to reconnoitre, and having ascertained the dervish position, the whole of wingate's force, at . a.m. on the th, advanced by moonlight to within three miles of the enemy, when a halt was called, and the troops deployed into attack formation. the advance was then resumed. although strict silence was kept in the ranks, it soon became evident, from the sound of drums and horns, that the khalifa was aware of wingate's approach. at . a.m. a gentle, rising slope, which laid between the troops and the dervish camp, was reached; here the force halted and the men were allowed to sleep. soon after five, when only a faint light indicated the approach of day, numerous white figures, moving towards the egyptian position, were recognized as dervishes advancing to the attack. wingate's troops were at once on the alert, and opened fire on the indistinct mass. the fire was returned by the enemy's riflemen, and in a few minutes the action became general. half an hour later the enemy's fire got slacker and slacker, and wingate's whole line advancing, swept through the dervish position for two miles till the enemy's camp was reached. as the troops passed over the field of battle, the deadly effect of the egyptian fire was shown by the heaps of dead strewing the ground. amongst them was the khalifa himself, who, surrounded by his bodyguard and principal emirs, made a gallant stand, but fell riddled with bullets. he seems to have met his fate with dignity. seeing that he was defeated, he resolved to die, and gathering his emirs around him, they fell together. with him died ahmed fedil and ali wad helu, also the khalifa's two brothers; sennoussi ahmed and haroun mohamed, as well as sadik, the son of the mahdi. the khalifa's son, sheikh el din, was amongst the wounded. wingate was leading the pursuing party of cavalry in front when the dead body of the khalifa was discovered, and a little boy advanced towards watson bey, who was following with the other troops, took watson's hand, led him to a group of three dead bodies, and, pointing to a figure in the centre of the group, said, "that is my father." the other two were the emirs abu fedl and ali wad helu. on this being reported to wingate, he directed that the burial of the dead khalifa and his two companions should be carried out by their own people, with all due pomp and ceremony. as soon as the news of the death of the khalifa was spread the greater part of his followers laid down their arms and surrendered. every man of importance, except osman digna, who left soon after the firing began, was either killed or made prisoner. the total number of prisoners taken was about , , besides a crowd of women and children found in the dervish camp. the victory was complete; the enemy, out of a force of from , to , men, lost over , in killed, as well as a vast collection of arms, grain, and munitions. wingate's losses were inconsiderable, amounting only to three men killed and twelve wounded. after wingate's brilliant achievement his men moved back to the river. between the st and the th they had marched more than sixty miles over trying ground, had fought two decisive engagements, and destroyed the last army which the khalifa was able to put into the field. to sir f. r. wingate is due the conspicuous merit of effectually suppressing mahdism for ever in the soudan. conclusion. it may reasonably be expected that the present work, a considerable portion of which is devoted to the intervention of england in egypt, should not be brought to a close without some reference to the results attending it. the military incidents, including the suppression of two formidable rebellions, the abandonment and reconquest of extensive territories, and the creation of a new national army, have already been mentioned. such of the political occurrences as were of sufficient general interest have also been touched upon. the effect of england's action in the valley of the nile, so far as it relates to the moral and material condition of the country, has yet to be dealt with. it is no exaggeration to say that never in the pages of history has there been an instance of such rapid recovery as that of egypt during the last seventeen years. unfortunately the exigencies of space will not admit of more than a brief reference to the work which has been accomplished. for further and more complete information the reader would do well to consult sir alfred milner's "england in egypt," a book already more than once quoted in these pages. in every direction a transformation has taken place. finances have been put in order; revenue has increased; taxation has diminished; additional land has been brought into cultivation; the cotton crop (egypt's most valuable product) has been doubled; foreign trade has augmented; railway, postal, and telegraph services have been developed; the administration of justice and the prison system have been reformed; sanitary matters have been taken in hand; education has progressed, and lastly, the population has increased to an extent hitherto unknown. in support of the preceding statements a few figures may ere be given with advantage. the augmentation of the revenue may be seen from the following table:-- £e. , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , (estimated) , , [ ] a noteworthy circumstance in connection with the growth of revenue is that it has been accompanied by an important diminution of taxation. taxes to the annual amount of £e. , , have been remitted since the commencement of the occupation, and the burden of taxation per head of the population has been reduced from £e. s. d. to s. d., a diminution of per cent. whilst the revenue was steadily increasing, the expenditure was so well kept in hand that the chronic deficit which so long figured in egyptian budgets was replaced in by a surplus, and this, with the exception of the year , has continued ever since. the following table shows the general financial results obtained since the commencement of the british occupation:-- surplus. deficit. £e. £e. -- , -- , -- , -- , , -- -- , , -- , -- , -- , -- , -- , -- , , -- , -- , -- , , -- out of the surpluses thus arising a "general reserve fund" has been created, by which the stability of the finances has been secured, and a fund provided for expenditure on productive public works, and for other beneficial objects. on the st december, , the sum to the credit of the "general reserve fund" amounted to £e. , , , of which £e. , , was pledged for the execution of public works. in addition to this fund there is another reserve fund, consisting of the accumulated economies resulting from the partial conversion of the public debt, and destined to form eventually a sinking fund. this amounted at the last-mentioned date to £e. , , . the increase in the cotton crop, due mainly to extended irrigation, has been from , , kantars[ ] in , to , , kantars in . the improvement in the foreign trade is shown by the fact that the value of the exports of merchandise increased from £e. , , in to £e. , , in , and the value of the imports during the same period from £e. , , to £e. , , . the customs revenue (which amounted in to only £e. , ) was more than doubled between the dates above given, the returns in being £e. , , and in ; £e. , , .[ ] the progress made by the railways, post office, and telegraph administrations since the commencement of the occupation is shown by the following figures:-- receipts. railways. post office. telegraphs. £e. £e. £e. , , , , , , , , [ ] according to sir elwin palmer, miles of new railways were opened between and . the advance made in regard to education appears from the fact that the expenditure on public instruction in the fifteen years ending in increased by over per cent., the number of government schools rose from to , and the number of pupils from , to over , . the increase in the population, before referred to, is the more remarkable when the drain occasioned by the repeated wars in the soudan is taken into account. in the inhabitants of egypt numbered , , , and in , when the last census was taken, the population had risen to , , , showing an augmentation of no less than , , , or per cent., in the space of years. it may be observed that lane gives the population of egypt in the time of the pharaohs as between six and seven millions. a french historian, m. mengin, puts the population in the time of mehemet ali as only , , . hitherto, mention has only been made of the advantages actually accrued to egypt under british guidance. but if the gigantic irrigation works recently undertaken in upper egypt, known as "the reservoir scheme," fulfil only partially the expectations formed with regard to them, the benefits which the country will receive in the future will far exceed anything in the past. these works, the foundation stone of which was laid in january, , will consist of a huge dam and lock across the nile at assouan, and a similar, though less extensive, construction at assiout--the whole to be completed in five years from st july, , at a cost of £ , , --spread over years. by these works, the design for which, in its present modified form, is due to mr. w. willcocks, c.e., late of the egyptian irrigation department, it is calculated that the failure of the cotton crop by reason of a low nile will in future be avoided; , acres of land now imperfectly irrigated will receive perennial irrigation, other lands will get additional water, and , acres will be reclaimed from the desert. the yearly increase to the wealth of the country is estimated at £e. , , , and the direct annual benefit to the state at £e. , . in addition to this it is reckoned that the sale of such of the reclaimed land as belongs to the government will realize a sum of £e. , , to the exchequer.[ ] whilst dealing with prospective benefits, it is impossible to avoid some reference to the advantages to egypt which may eventually arise from the opening up of the reconquered provinces of the soudan to trade and commerce. the future government of these vast regions was provided for by the soudan convention, made between the british and egyptian governments in january, . under this the british and egyptian flags are to be used together, both on land and water, in the soudan, and the supreme military and civil command is to be vested in an officer termed the governor-general, nominated by khedivial decree, on the recommendation of the british government. the governor-general is alone to have power to make laws, and until otherwise provided the whole country will be under martial law. the orderly administration of the country having been thus provided for, it only remains to wait and see the results. though years may elapse before these realize the hopes formed, it is impossible not to believe that a territory which, under the most adverse circumstances, has produced such riches in the past, should not, under the present improved conditions, develop into a prosperous dependency of egypt. even should this not prove to be the case, the mere rescue of such a vast territory from barbarism will ever remain a triumph for the cause of civilization well worth the cost. whilst every one must recognize the beneficent work which has been accomplished in egypt under england's guidance, there may be persons inclined to doubt whether it can be regarded as permanent. to this there is but one answer, viz., that england can never permit the country which she has rescued to drift back into a state of ruin and chaos. this may be thought to imply an indefinite prolongation of the occupation. such, however, does not of necessity follow. it may well be that the direction of egyptian affairs will have to be left for some time in the hands of the power under whose influence so much has been accomplished. until the reforms effected have had time to consolidate, withdrawal would jeopardize the edifice so laboriously erected, and be the worst of calamities. but the progress which the country, under an enlightened ruler, is daily making, joined to the growing intelligence of the people, encourage the belief that the moment will arrive when england may declare her mission on the banks of the nile at an end, and leave to a regenerated egypt the control of her own destinies. index. abbas pasha hilmy, prince (khedive), page . abd-el-al, , , , - . abdel kader pasha, , , . abd-el-kerim, - . abdullah-el-taaishi, see khalifa. abu hamid, battle of, - . abu klea, ; battle of, - ; retreat to, ; skirmish at, - ; evacuation, . abu kru, see gubat. adye, gen. sir john, , . afafit, ; see tokar. ahmed arabi, see arabi pasha. ahmed fedil, dervish leader, defeated, ; killed, . ahmed saha, . akasheh, action at, . al-ed-din pasha, , . alcester (lord), see seymour (admiral). alexandria, warships sent to, , - , , ; riots, - ; bombardment, - , , - ; forts, ; european quarter burnt, , ; outrages, , , , . ali fehmi, , , , . ali pasha moubarek, , . alison, gen. sir a., , , , , , , , , . alleyne, lieut.-col., . amr-el-makashef, , , , . anson (lord), . arabi dafalla (emir), . arabi pasha, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , - . ardagh, major, , . argin, battle of, - . armour-clad train, , . army of occupation, , , , , - . ashburnham, lieut.-col., . aslam, fort, . atbara, battle of the, - . australian infantry and artillery in souakim expedition ( ), , , , . awad-el-kerim, . azhar, el, , . baggaras, - , - , , , , . baker, sir samuel, , . baker, gen. val., - . baring, sir e. (lord cromer), , , - , , , , , . barrow, lieut.-col., - , . barthélemy st.-hilaire, m., . bayuda desert, , , , . beale, lieut.-col., . benha, massacre at, , . berber, advance of sirdar to, ; taken by gen. hunter, . beresford, lord charles, , , , , , , , , - , . "black watch" (the), , , , . blignières, m. de, , , . blunt, mr. wilfrid s., , . bombardment, see alexandria. borelli bey, . boscawen, col., . brackenbury, col., ; brigadier-gen., with nile column, ; succeeds gen. earle, , - . brédif, m., - . broadley, mr., . broadwood, col., . buller, gen. redvers, , - , ; at tamaai, - , , - ; chief of wolseley's staff, ; commanding desert column, ; at abu klea, ; advises retention of dongola, . burnaby, col., , , , . burn-murdoch, lieut., ; (major) - . butler, col. (brigadier-gen.), , , - , , . cairo, alarm in, , ; arabist plan for burning, _note_; captured by gen. drury-lowe, - . caldecott, capt., killed at omdurman, . camel corps, , , . cartwright, consul-gen., , , . cavalieri, lieut., . cave, mr., , . channes, m. gabriel, . cherif pasha, - , , , , . chermside, col., - . cholera epidemic among troops, . clery, col., . coëtlogon, see de coëtlogon. colborne, col., . collinson, lieut.-col., commanding egyptian brigade, , - , . "colonels," the, , . colville, commander, and steam flotilla at hafir, - . colvin, mr. (sir) auckland, , , - , , . commission of inquiry, , ; of liquidation, ; of public debt, . _condor_, h.m.s., . conference at constantinople, - . connaught,. h.r.h. the duke of, at alexandria, ; at tel-el-mahuta, ; at tel-el-kebir, . control, dual, see dual control. cook and son, , , . cookson, mr. (sir) charles, , , - . cornish, mr. j. e., , . "courbache" abolished, . coveney, lieut., killed, . cromer, lord, see baring. curzon, mr., . cuzzi, mr., . damietta, capitulation of, . daoud pasha, . davis, gen., , , , , . decazes, duc, . de chair, mr. dudley, . de coëtlogon, col., , . dervish pasha, , - , , . desert march of stewart's column, - . dickson, major (royals), killed at abu klea, . dongola, wolseley at, ; the mudir knighted, ; his _bon mot_ about camels, ; wolseley again arrives, ; reconquest decided upon, expedition, - ; capture, - . dormer gen., ; astonishes dervishes, . dorrien, lieut., . dorward, major, , , . dowell, admiral, , , . drummond-wolff convention, ; sir h., . drury-lowe, major-gen., , , - , , . dual control, , , , , - . dual note, . duem attacked by mahdists, . dufferin, lord, - - , - , - , , - . dum-dum bullets, - . earle, major-gen. w., , , , - ; killed, . egerton, mr., , . egypt, financial condition ( ), - ; english policy towards, ; arabist troubles, see alexandria, arabi pasha, cairo; benefits of british occupation, - . egyptian troops, ; army, . el obeid, see obeid. el teb disaster, - ; victory, - . eyre, lieut.-col., killed, . fakri pasha, . farag pasha, , . faragallah bey, . farquhar, col., - , . fashoda, capt. (major) marchand at, - . fenwick, capt, at khor wintri, . ferket, battle of, - . fisher, capt., and armour-clad train, . fitzmaurice, lord e., . fitz-roy, capt. r. o. b., - , . forts at alexandria, armament, . frankfort, lord, see montmorency. freeman, lieut., . fremantle, gen. a. j. l., . galioub, outrage at, . gascoigne, capt., - , . gatacre, major-gen., with british brigade in soudan, - ; at battle of the atbara, - ; with british force for omdurman, . giegler pasha, - . ginnis and kosheh, battles of: defeat of khalifa, - . girouard, capt. (r.e.), , , . goodenough, brigadier-gen., , , . goodrich, lieutenant-commander (u.s.n.), _note_. gordon, gen. c. g. (pasha), ; his mission, - , - ; relief expedition, - , , - , ; journals, - ; ; death, . gordon, major staveley, . graham, gen. sir gerald, , , , , , , , - . granville, lord, - , , - , - , , , - , , , , , . greaves, major-gen., . gregory, sir w., . grenfell, gen. sir f., appointed sirdar, ; to command frontier field force, ; at souakim, ; at assouan, ; at toski, . grenfell, lieut., killed, . grigolini, sister teresa, . gubat (abu kru), , , ; retreat from, - . hafir, battle of, - . hag mahomed ismail, _note_. halton pasha, _note_. hamley, gen. sir e., , , , , , - . hammill, commander, , , , , - . handoub, osman digna's camp at, - . harman, gen. g. b., . hasheen, battle of, - . henderson, commander, . herbin, m., , , . hewett, admiral sir w., , , , - , ; at el teb, . hicks pasha (col. w.) , , , . holled-smith, lieut.-col., ; captures handoub, ; defeats osman digna at tokar, - . hoskins, admiral, , . houston stewart, lieut., . hudson, gen., , , . hunter, major, , , ; (col.) at wady halfa, ; takes akasheh, ; (major-gen.) at merawi, ; victor at abu hamid, - ; takes berber, ; battle at nakheila, - ; atbara, ; commands egyptians at omdurman, . hussein ismail, , . hussein pasha serri, . ibrahim pasha, . incendiarism at alexandria, , , . international commission on suez canal, . international tribunals, ; see mixed tribunals. ismail pasha (khedive), - , - . ismail pasha saddyk (the "mofettish"), . ismailia, british occupation, - . italian army defeated at adowa, ; garrison at kassala threatened, (see kassala); italians defeat , dervishes, . jaalin arabs, , , , ; massacred by dervishes, . joint notes (eng. & french) to khedive, - . kafr dowar, , , _note_, , . kan, disaster at, . kashgil, hicks pasha defeated and killed, . kassala taken by osman digna, ; by italians, _ibid._; italian garrison at, ; restored to egypt, - . kassassin, battle of, - . kempster, capt., - . keppel, commander, and gunboats at metammeh, - ; at omdurman, - . khalifa succeeds mahdi, ; proclamations, ; army at omdurman, ; defeated by sirdar kitchener, - ; again by sir f. r. wingate and killed, . khartoum invested by mahdists, ; "all right," , ; wilson's voyage to, - ; fall, - . khasm-el-mus, , , , - . khedive, see ismail pasha, tewfik pasha. khor wintri, . kinje osman, , - , . kirbekan, battle of, - . kitchener, major (sir) herbert, , , ; (col.) gov.-gen. eastern soudan, ; wounded, , ; in command at souakim, ; at toski, ; sirdar, ; takes over kassala from italian garrison, - ; defeats khalifa at omdurman, - ; created baron kitchener of khartoum, ; demonstration at khartoum, - . kitchener, col., sent against khalifa, . klootz, adolf ("vizetelly"), . kordofan in power of mahdi, . korti, wolseley at, , ; withdrawal from, to dongola, . kosheh and ginnis, defeat of khalifa, . lancers ( st) at omdurman, . lesseps, m. ferdinand de, - ; m. victor de, , ; m. charles de, . lewis, lieut.-col., , . london convention, . lyons, lord, , , , . lyttelton, brigadier-gen. hon. a. g., . macdonald, lieut.-col., at battle of the atbara, ; at battle of omdurman, - . machell, lieut., . mcneill, major-gen. sir j. c., ; attack on his zeriba, - . macpherson, gen. sir h., . mahdi, the, - , - ; second hanged by first, ; captures khartoum, - ; prepares to invade egypt, ; death, (see khalifa); tomb destroyed, . mahmoud choukri bey, . mahmoud (emir), khalifa's general, captured, . mahmoud pasha fehmi, , , . mahmoud sami pasha, - , - , - , , , . mahmoud talma pasha, . mahomet saleh, . mahsameh captured, . malet, sir e., , , , , , . marabieh, hicks defeats mahdists at, - . marchand, capt. (major), at fashoda, - . martin, major, with hicks pasha, ; (col.) at omdurman, . massacre of foreigners in alexandria, - ; at tantah, ; at khartoum, ; of jaalins at metammeh, . massey, capt., with hicks pasha, . maude, commander, . mernat island, . metammeh, advance on, - ; attacked by keppel (_q.v._), - ; massacre of jaalins, . milner, sir alfred, on british troops in egypt, ; on sir e. baring, . mixed tribunals, , . "mofettish," the, . mohammed-el-kheir (emir), , - . mohammed mousa, . moncrieff, capt. (r.n.), . moncrieff, sir colin scott, . money, lieut.-col., . montmorency, major-gen. hon. r. h. de (lord frankfort), - , . morice bey, _note_, , , , . moukhtar pasha, . murray, col. (seaforth highlanders), . mustapha pasha fehmi, , . mustaphazin, - . nakheila, battle at, - . napier, hon. mark, - . naval brigade at abu klea, . neufeld, mr. charles, . ninet, mr. john, , _note_, , . northcote, sir s., on soudan policy, . nubar pasha, , - , , - , . nubir yussef pasha, - . nur-el-kanzi (emir), - . nusri pasha, . obeid, mahdi repulsed at, - ; capitulates, . omar pasha loutfi, , , , . om debrikat, battle of: khalifa killed, . omdurman captured by mahdi, - ; retaken by sirdar (kitchener), . oman azrak (emir), . osman digna, - , , , , , - , , - , , , - , , . osman pasha rifki, , , . parsons, col., at kassala, - ; defeats ahmed fedil, - . port saïd, british occupation, - . power, mr., brit. consul at khartoum, murdered, . probyn, lieut., killed, . quayle-jones, col., . ragheb pasha, , . ramleh, fight at, - . reouf pasha, , . riaz pasha, , , , - , , - . ribton, mr. h. p., case of, . riots at alexandria, - . rosières, , . rundle, major, ; col., _note_; gen., . russell, col. sir baker, , . st. vincent, lord, . saleh aga defeats mahdists at sennar, - . salisbury, marquis of, , , , - , , - . sami pasha, see mahmoud sami pasha. sarras seized by dervishes, , - ; retaken, . sartorius, col. (pasha), , - . seymour, admiral sir b., - , , - , , , , , - , . sheikh-el-din, son of khalifa, . shendy, . sinkat, fall of, . sirdar, see wood, gen. sir e.; grenfell, gen. sir f.; kitchener, sir h. slade, major, killed at el teb, . slatin pasha, , , , . souakim expedition ( ), - ; ( ), - . souakim-berber railway, - , , , - . soudan, state of, - ; abandonment, ; graham in eastern, - ; evacuation, . stephenson, lieut.-gen. f. c. a., , , - ; takes over command from wolseley, ; with frontier force at wady halfa, ; defeats khalifa, . stewart, col., with gordon at khartoum, ; murdered, - . stewart, gen., with graham at el teb, , ; at tamaai, ; at otao, , , ; death, . stuart-wortley, lieut., - , . suez canal: ismail pasha's shares, ; international commission, ; canal seized by british force, see ismailia, port saïd, lesseps. suleiman pasha, , , . suleiman wad gamr, murderer of col. stewart, , , ; killed, . sultan pasha, , , - . talbot, col., , . tamaai, graham's victory at, - . tapp, col., killed, . tewfik bey and garrison of sinkat, . tewfik pasha, , - , , , ; death, . thackwell, lieut.-col., . tigrane pasha, . tokar surrenders to mahdi, ; retaken by gen. sir g. graham, ; by col. holled-smith, - . toski, battle of, - . toulba pasha, , , , , . trafford, capt., . tribunals, mixed, , . turkish troops for egypt, - . tuson, col., . urquhart, major, killed, . vandeleur, col., . van koughnet, lieut., - . verner, col., . vincent, sir edgar, . vivian, hon. h. c., , . vyse, lieut. howard, killed, . wad-en-nejumi, mahdist general at khartoum, and _note_, , ; defeated and killed at toski, - . wad helu (emir), mahdist general at omdurman, , ; killed, . wady halfa, wolseley at, . walford, capt. n. z., _note_. wardrop, major, . warner, capt., with hicks pasha, . watson, capt. (r.e.), ; (major) gov.-gen. eastern soudan, . wauchope, gen. h. g., . way, col., at mcneill's zeriba, . webster, lieut.-col., at el teb, . "whalers," ; their failure, . willis, lieut.-gen. g. h. s., , , . willson, col. mildmay, _note_. wilson, capt. (h.m.s. _hecla_), . wilson, col. sir charles, , , , , , ; voyage to khartoum, - , - , . wilson, mr. (sir) c. rivers, , , - . wingate, major, ; col. sir f. r., defeats ahmed fedil and the khalifa, - . wodehouse, col., , - , . wolseley, gen. sir garnet (lord), appointed to command british expedition to egypt, , , , - , , , , , - , , ; on fall of khartoum, - ; embarks for souakim, ; advises retention of dongola, _ibid._; urges "smashing" of mahdi, . wood, col., at el teb, . wood, gen. sir evelyn, , - ; appointed sirdar, , ; chief of wolseley's staff, - . yacoub pasha sami, , , - . zag-a-zig captured by bengal cavalry, - . the end. printed by kelly's directories, limited, kingston-on-thames; and high holborn. footnotes: [ ] the exact number of shares was , , and the "mess of pottage" for which ismail bartered away his birthright was £ , , . the same shares at to-day's prices are worth just £ , , . [ ] "khedives and pashas," page , by c. moberly bell. [ ] cherif, who was as good a sportsman as he was a billiard player, went to his "long rest" at aix-les-bains, on the th april, . [ ] the arabs have a proverb, "a dog's tail will never stand straight," meaning that evil habits, once acquired, cannot be got rid of. [ ] ismail landed at naples, and resided in many places in europe, principally in paris and london, till in december, , he was permitted to settle at constantinople, where he died in . his body was brought back to egypt and interred with great ceremony. [ ] tewfik went to europe in , but was recalled when he had only got as far as vienna. [ ] saddyk was taken by ismail in his carriage to the palace at ghezireh on th november, , and was never after seen alive. [ ] "egypt and the egyptian question," by d. mackenzie wallace, page . [ ] every reader of egyptian history will remember that the mamelukes being in revolt against mehemet ali, were by a device induced to meet at the citadel, where, with the exception of one who escaped by a perilous leap on horseback, they were all put to death. [ ] "khedives and pashas," pp. - . [ ] parliamentary papers, egypt, no. , , page . [ ] it is gratifying to be able to add that, as an acknowledgment of mr. cookson's services on this occasion, he received by telegraph an expression of sympathy from her majesty's government. [ ] the actual murderer of mr. ribton was hag mahomed ismail, who was subsequently convicted and hanged. [ ] parliamentary blue book, egypt, no. , , page . [ ] it is only right to mention that the authenticated cases are less than half the number above given. [ ] mr. simon wolff, the united states consul-general, was invited by one of his colleagues to flee with the rest, as "there was to be a massacre of all the europeans and christians." mr. wolff, who was a member of the hebrew community, remarked that he did not see how that would affect him, as he was neither one nor the other, and he remained at his post. [ ] this despatch was not delivered to the admiral till the following day. [ ] there were, however, two exceptions which deserve to be mentioned. one was mr. j. easton cornish, the english manager of the alexandria water works, who resolutely refused to desert his post. the other was the director-general of the egyptian postal administration, the late halton pasha, likewise an englishman, who, having a large number of european employés under his care, determined not to forsake them, and embarked at the last moment with them in a small steamer which remained moored alongside the breakwater during the bombardment. [ ] although the fact in no way detracts from the gallant conduct of lord charles beresford's exploit, it is necessary to add that the only real injury sustained by the fort was the burning of a small store. there were several hits on the scarp, but none of the guns were touched. [ ] at the bombardment of algiers, by lord exmouth, the british loss was no less than killed and wounded. [ ] for his conduct on this occasion mr. harding received the victoria cross. [ ] mr. john ninet, in his work, "arabi pasha," puts the number of egyptians killed during the bombardment at . general stone, an american officer, serving as the khedive's chief of the staff, estimates them at . [ ] the uncertainty attending the fire of war-ships in action was recently illustrated, though under totally different circumstances, in the engagement between the american and spanish fleets at santiago. on that occasion, out of a total of , rounds fired from the united states vessels, only , or · per cent., struck the enemy; whilst out of rounds fired by the -inch guns there was not a single hit. the american loss was one man killed and one wounded, against killed and wounded on the spanish side. [ ] there were , shot and shell fired from the heavy guns. of these, were fired from the _inflexible's_ -ton guns. the average number of rounds for the heavy guns of the fleet was a little over for each gun. at the bombardment of algiers one ship, h.m.s. _queen charlotte_, alone fired , round shot. [ ] the writer is indebted for much of the following information to the able report of captain n. l. walford, r.a. [ ] report of lieutenant-commander goodrich, u.s.n. [ ] in august, , these two guns were removed to ramleh for the purpose of firing on the enemy's lines. [ ] the dead were taken along the boulevard de rosette to the native hospital, where the bodies were at once interred. [ ] on the th the troops removed to esbet horshid, , metres south of millaha junction on the cairo railway, so as not to be exposed to the fire of the ships. on the th they moved to kingi osman and kafr dowar, where they entrenched themselves. [ ] afterwards sir edward zohrab pasha k.c.m g. [ ] at the time when the town was a mass of smouldering ruins, and such shops as existed had been looted, a youthful midshipman of the fleet, ashore, on being asked what he thought of alexandria, replied, "oh, the place is well enough; the only thing is, _jam_ is so dear." [ ] the commander of the german gunboat _habicht_, who landed on the th, found a dozen bodies of europeans lying in the streets which he had to pass through on his way to the german hospital. [ ] the hôtel abbat, so well known to european visitors, was only saved by a clever ruse on the part of the berberine "bowab," or doorkeeper, who was left in sole charge of the premises. when a mob of native pillagers hammered at the door to obtain admittance, the faithful domestic, from the inside, recollecting some of the choice expressions he had picked up from british tourists, shouted, "you b---- b----s; what the b---- h---- do you want?" &c., &c. the effect was magical. the assailants said to each other, "why, the house is full of inglesi!" and hurriedly made a retreat, leaving the hotel uninjured. [ ] of the pecuniary loss sustained through the pillage and incendiarism some idea may be formed from the statistics subsequently furnished by the international commission of indemnities. the total sum awarded was , , francs, or £ , , . of this sum, , , fr., or £ , , , was given for house property destroyed, and , , fr., or £ , , , for furniture, and , , fr., or £ , , , for merchandise. when one bears in mind that the decree appointing the commission expressly excluded claims for money, jewellery, securities, and works of art, it will be obvious that the total value of property stolen or destroyed must have considerably exceeded the sums above quoted. [ ] this wanton and useless work of destruction was repeated at all the forts bearing on the sea. the light guns ( - / inch s.b.) were hove off their carriages, and the rifled guns treated with gun-cotton. hundreds of tons of gunpowder were ruined, and scores of valuable guns rendered useless. the object of this destruction is hardly evident. it is the more incomprehensible as on the th july admiral seymour had received a despatch from the admiralty in the following terms: "opposition having ceased, do not dismantle forts or disable guns." [ ] the reinforcements which were prepared after the despatch of the first corps amounted to officers and , men, so that the total force despatched, or in the act of being despatched, to the end of the war from great britain and the mediterranean stations amounted to , officers and , men. the indian contingent, including a small reserve left at aden, consisted of officers and , men. some of these, consisting of depóts, and drafts, and one infantry battalion, were stopped at the last moment, but on the whole not far short of , men were sent. the troops despatched from india were the st seaforth highlanders and the st manchester, two bengal and one bombay battalions of native infantry, with one -pounder field battery and one mountain battery, each of six guns, and three regiments of bengal cavalry, with some sappers and miners from madras. the force was accompanied by about , followers, including transport drivers, , horses, ponies, and nearly , mules, some for regimental and others for general transport purposes. the first battalion left bombay on the nd july. the rest of the force received their orders on the th july, and began to leave on august th. the government engaged transports in england and in india. [ ] mr. cornish had the decoration of the c.m.g. conferred on him for his conduct on this occasion. [ ] it is only fair to the british army to say that but very little looting was ever proved against them during this period. isolated cases of breaking into houses and carrying off wines and spirits occurred, but these were almost the only instances. the foreign population of alexandria and ramleh have frequently borne testimony to this effect, as well as to the perfect impartiality with which british cellars, as well as those of other europeans, were requisitioned by individual soldiers and sailors in an informal manner. [ ] mr. de chair was sent by arabi to cairo, where, a report having been circulated that admiral seymour was being brought a prisoner to the capital, great crowds of natives assembled. mr. de chair was lodged in a building at abdin used as a school for the sons of officers of the army and well treated, and at the conclusion of hostilities he was released. [ ] the picket on this occasion retired with some precipitancy, and the circumstance was taken advantage of by one of the london newspapers to publish a highly coloured account of the affair, which was afterwards officially contradicted. [ ] the mahmoudieh canal, connecting alexandria with the nile, was one of mehemet ali's greatest works. whilst it was in course of construction a french engineer was asked by the pasha what he thought of the plan. the frenchman replied, "your highness must pardon me if i suggest that your canal will be very crooked." "do your rivers in france run in a straight line?" asked the pasha. "certainly not," said the man of science. "who made them; was it not allah?" again questioned the pasha. "assuredly," was the reply. "well then," the pasha triumphantly exclaimed, "do you think that either you or i know better than allah how water ought to run?" [ ] one of the three mutinous colonels. [ ] it will be noticed that lord granville's proposal was no longer limited to the protection of the suez canal, but pointed to a joint military intervention to put an end to loss of life and anarchy. [ ] port saïd was held by the ship's marines and bluejackets until th september, when they were relieved by royal marine light infantry and royal marine artillery sent from england. [ ] his relatives received £ , by way of compensation from the british government. [ ] this is absolutely untrue. [ ] but see letter from the secretary to the admiralty on the next page. [ ] these dues were, with unnecessary liberality, paid subsequently by the british government. [ ] on the contrary, the ships in general were navigated by their own officers and almost without accident. [ ] despatches from the captains of the _orion_ and _carysfort_. [ ] this vessel was one of the few which had a pilot (formerly in the canal company's service) on board. [ ] it is related that the president of the canal company subsequently posted himself at the landing-place at ismailia at the moment when a number of men from the ships were about to disembark, and emphatically declared that "no one should land except over his dead body." this, however, was without effect, for according to the story he was gently pushed aside by a bluejacket with the observation--"we don't want any dead bodies about here, sir; all you've got to do is to step back a bit." though the anecdote is probably apocryphal, it serves to illustrate exactly the attitude adopted by the british navy towards the canal authorities. [ ] it is related that one of the men-of-wars' men, when in working dress and carrying a huge package of stores, was accosted by a smart commissariat officer, who asked the sailor who he was. jack stopped in his work, and wiping the perspiration from his brow, replied, "well, sir, i used to be a british sailor, but now i'm blowed if i don't begin to think i'm a blooming commissariat mule." [ ] the dam, which by threatening the water supply had necessitated the advance, was found to have been made of bundles of reeds cleverly lashed together with telegraph wire, with sand thrown over each layer. all the next day the bluejackets, assisted by a fatigue party of soldiers, went to work up to their necks in the water trying to cut through the dam. little or no impression, however, was made upon it. it was then operated on with gun-cotton, which had but little effect on the sand. a large hole was made, but it instantly filled up again. pickaxes and shovels were then set to work, but it was not until the th that the dam was at last cleared away and the canal opened to navigation. [ ] "egypt in the nineteenth century," by a. d. cameron, pp. - . [ ] mahmoud pasha fehmi, who was captured, was the chief of the staff of the egyptian army. he missed the train and was found strolling, apparently unconcerned, about the railway station at mahsameh. as he was in the ordinary egyptian dress with a "tarboosh" and white umbrella, he would probably have got away unobserved had he not been recognized and denounced by a wounded egyptian soldier. [ ] tel-el-kebir and kafr dowar are the two great strategical points to be held in defending lower egypt. this will at once be seen on referring to a map of the delta. [ ] this was turned by the highlanders, who passed to the south. [ ] this work was absolutely useless in the battle, being taken by the highlanders in the rear and by the nd brigade in the flanks. [ ] as a fact , rations were served out to the egyptian force at tel-el-kebir on the th september. [ ] this order being disobeyed by a drunken soldier, who by his shouting might have betrayed the presence of the force to the enemy, he was promptly seized, bound, and chloroformed into a quiescent state. [ ] nd battalion royal irish regiment, royal marine light infantry, nd battalion york and lancaster regiment, st battalion royal irish fusiliers. [ ] this firing, which is recorded in the report of commander goodrich, page , is in partial contradiction to wolseley's despatch. [ ] st battalion royal highlanders, st battalion gordon highlanders, st battalion cameron highlanders, nd battalion highland light infantry. this brigade was supported by colonel ashburnham's, consisting of the king's royal rifles and the duke of cornwall's light infantry. [ ] -- royal artillery (mountain battery), st battalion seaforth highlanders, rd battalion native infantry, made up of detachments of th bengal native infantry, th punjaub infantry, and th beloochees. [ ] meanwhile, on the other side of the canal, the naval gatlings were busily employed firing on the egyptian lines in front and on either hand. [ ] household cavalry, th dragoon guards, th dragoon guards, mounted infantry, royal horse artillery, bengal cavalry, bengal lancers. [ ] sir edward hamley was of opinion that the alarm was given by mounted scouts who were met on the march. [ ] arabi subsequently told the late morice bey (who conducted him a prisoner to ceylon) that at the time of the attack he was in bed, and the english did not leave him time enough to get his boots on. [ ] a naval officer who visited the redoubt the following day described it as a perfect "charnel-house." [ ] dr. shaw, of the royal marines, whilst attending one of the egyptian wounded, happening to turn aside for a moment, was shot at by his patient. this ingratitude was too much for the doctor's orderly, who, with a bayonet, at once despatched the assailant. [ ] an elaborate plan was devised for the repetition of the alexandria outrages. according to this scheme cairo was divided into a number of districts, and fire was to be applied simultaneously to certain houses indicated. this was to take place after the morning prayer on the th, the very day after the city was taken by general drury-lowe's force. [ ] the cavalry had marched sixty-five miles in two days. [ ] according to "arabi pasha," by mr. john ninet, already quoted, the majority of the council were in favour of defending cairo. the citadel, it was pointed out, was in good repair, and it would be easy to act as the french did at the beginning of the century to put an end to any revolt. arabi, however, opposed. [ ] this officer was subsequently tried by court-martial and sentenced to two years' imprisonment. [ ] whilst the egyptian arms were being handed over, a somewhat amusing incident occurred at a café in the village, where some europeans and natives were sitting. as they were taking their coffee a respectable-looking old arab sheikh rushed in and very excitedly asked if there was any one present who spoke "inglesi." one of the party replied in the affirmative, and asked what the man wanted. he declared that the soldiers were breaking into his harem, and he wanted some one to go off with him to the general at once. the person addressed then assured him that he ought not to mind, as it was always like that in war time, and asked the old man to sit down and take a cup of coffee. the man refused, and begged his would-be host to come at once, or it would be too late. the latter again assured him that the proceeding complained of was perfectly regular in a state of belligerency, and once more pressed the man to take the coffee. the latter again asked if the other was "quite sure," and receiving a reply in the affirmative he allowed himself to be convinced, and then sitting down said, "in that case i will take the coffee." [ ] this sentiment, however, subsided very quickly, and when, on a vote of thanks being proposed in the house of commons to the british army, sir wilfrid lawson moved as an amendment that "a vote of thanks should be given to the egyptian army for running away," his observations were received with good-humoured laughter, if not with approval. [ ] professor palmer was murdered in the desert after the money was taken from him. [ ] mr. john ninet. [ ] about the same period the sultan bestowed a similar order on his bootmaker at constantinople. upon the writer remarking to an egyptian official on the singularity of the circumstance, the latter replied, "yes; but he is a very good bootmaker, you know." [ ] omar ráhmi was arabi's private secretary. [ ] this crime comes under article of the ottoman penal code, which lays down that every one who directly or indirectly incites subjects of the ottoman empire to arm against the imperial government shall suffer death. [ ] this crime comes under article of the ottoman military penal code, viz.:--"every commander who, without motive, continues hostilities after he has been officially informed of the conclusion of peace, or of an armistice, shall suffer death." [ ] suleiman sami was subsequently convicted and hanged at alexandria on th june, . [ ] toulba, being in ill health, was permitted to return to egypt early in the present year ( ), and died in cairo on the th july, . on the th july, , a decree was issued allowing mahmoud sami also to return. [ ] the strength of a battalion varies from to men. [ ] afterwards sir evelyn baring. [ ] two days before lord dufferin said farewell to egypt, that is, on the st may, , he had the satisfaction of seeing established by khedivial decree: st, provincial councils, for the purpose of fixing the contributions to be levied for extraordinary local expenditure on works of public utility; nd, a legislative council, to whom all new laws have to be submitted for discussion; rd, a chamber of notables or general assembly, without whose consent no new tax can be levied. [ ] the reason for giving the nominal command to suleiman was that the mahdist movement being a religious one, it was undesirable to increase the fanaticism of its supporters by placing a christian at the head of the egyptian troops. [ ] a german servant named klein, attached to the expedition, subsequently related that he remembered colonel farquhar coming into his master's tent and saying, "we find the mahdi has many friends among the egyptian officers." [ ] the account here given of hicks' death is borne out to some extent by another version, according to which, the cartridges being all spent, hicks put himself at the head of the army, and ordered bayonets to be fixed. when last seen he was with his staff. sword in one hand and revolver in the other, he charged in the midst of the enemy, and was in a few moments overpowered. another report contains the following:--"surrounded by his staff, who dropped around him one by one, hicks fought like a lion, emptying his revolver thrice, and then hacking with his sword, till a lance-thrust stretched him beside his slaughtered companions." so impressed, according to one narrative, were the arabs by hicks' gallantry that they resolved to build a tomb over his body in recognition of his bravery. klein, the german servant to one of hicks' officers (already referred to), and who managed to escape, reported that hicks was taken prisoner in the second day's fighting, and afterwards killed at a place three days distant from obeid. he adds that the pasha's hands were cut off, and he was cut to pieces afterwards. [ ] klootz is the person referred to in many of the reports as vizetelly. [ ] he died in france, january, . [ ] lieutenant cavalieri, and probably also many other officers, were killed in this way. [ ] so sudden and rapid was the enemy's onset that only a single round was fired, the egyptian gunners bolting instantly afterwards. [ ] colonel barrow's life was saved by quartermaster-sergeant marshall, who caught him as he was falling, and seizing a loose horse belonging to a dismounted trooper, was, with the assistance of the latter, placing the colonel on it, when it fell. marshall and the trooper then supported the colonel through the scattered masses of the enemy. the danger run may be imagined from the fact that barrow and a corporal of the th, named murray, were the only two who, when unhorsed, escaped with their lives. murray had no less than four horses either speared, hamstrung, or clubbed--a circumstance almost unexampled. [ ] major slade was not missed until the cavalry had for some time been returning to the square. he is supposed to have been killed in an attempt to help lieutenant probyn. twelve spear wounds were found on his body. [ ] most of these were wholly untrained, and the rest only understood one movement, viz., that of retreating in the presence of the enemy. [ ] already in zeriba. [ ] this was the khor already spoken of. [ ] general graham, who had taken the command of the brigade out of the hands of general davis, gave the order personally. [ ] it subsequently transpired that many of the "voyageurs" had absolutely no experience in the management of boats, and were worse than useless. there were some excellent men amongst them, and more particularly among the indians, but the general opinion was that the bluejackets from the fleet could have performed the work far more efficiently, besides being sober and amenable to discipline. when, in addition, it is stated that the canadians received very high salaries, the wisdom of engaging these men for the nile expedition appears open to much doubt. [ ] a letter from the mahdi states that all these fell into his hands. [ ] this is sometimes called new dongola, and is not to be confused with old dongola, some or miles further south, on the east bank. [ ] this was the notorious oliver pain. [ ] the prize, after a keen competition, was won by the royal irish regiment, the royal highlanders coming in second, and the west kent third. [ ] the appointment of lord charles beresford was perhaps justly regarded as a piece of favouritism. commander hammill, who had for months been engaged in the preliminary work on the nile, and whose services in passing the steamers through the cataracts have been already referred to, was passed over. [ ] the last whaler with troops did not arrive till th february, . [ ] there was something anomalous in placing heavy cavalry in an infantry square, a formation altogether contrary to the spirit of their training and traditions. notwithstanding this, the behaviour of the force in the _mêlée_ which ensued, and the steadiness which enabled the square to be re-formed under circumstances which rendered disaster possible, were worthy of the finest traditions of the british army. [ ] the screw guns of the royal artillery did immense service, especially against the enemy's horsemen, three shrapnels going in their midst, and again when a renewed attack was threatened from the enemy's left. the shells caused utter demoralization. altogether the battery fired thirty-eight shrapnels, nineteen common shell and six case. [ ] died of his wounds subsequently. [ ] over a hundred camels with their loads were lost in this way. [ ] the story is told of one of the soldiers who on hearing the creaking and groaning of one of the "sakheas," or waterwheels (a sound which the troops had not heard since leaving korti), exclaimed, "we can't be far off now; i can hear them blooming musical boxes again." [ ] the men at the zeriba had passed an undisturbed night, part of which they spent in looting the stores; the camel-drivers, native boys from aden, were the worst offenders. [ ] the command at gubat was taken by colonel mildmay willson, of the scots guards, in the place of colonel boscawen, who had fallen ill. [ ] a court of inquiry was held at gubat to investigate charges of treachery against the two captains and one of the "reises" (pilots) of the wrecked steamers. the pilot was sentenced to death, but recommended to mercy on account of his having brought down stuart-wortley in the boat. [ ] wad en nejumi was subsequently killed at the battle of toski, and abu girgeh fell at tokar. [ ] it should be explained that the word dervish is derived from the persian language, and corresponds with the arabic word "fakir," signifying "poor." strictly speaking, "dervish" applies to a member of a religious brotherhood or sect, but latterly, in matters dealing with the soudan, the term has been used to indicate all those who have assumed the faith and uniform of the mahdi. [ ] during the last six days before the fall of khartoum, the rations of the soldiers consisted of gum, and, when that failed, of palm-fibre only. [ ] at a court martial held in cairo on hassan bey, in june, , on a charge of treachery in connection with the fall of khartoum, one of the soldiers, being asked if the troops were exercised in "night alarms," naïvely replied "that there was no necessity for any such practice, as the enemy attacked every night." [ ] at the moment when the town was taken the train had not been completely laid. [ ] the scheme fell through owing to a disagreement with the greek consul. there is every reason to suppose that gordon never had any intention to escape himself in the steamer, although the greeks formed the design of taking him with them by force. [ ] for many of these details the author is indebted to "mahdism and the egyptian soudan," and to "ten years' captivity in the mahdi's camp," both by sir francis r. wingate, the head of the intelligence department of the egyptian army. [ ] though the above is the generally accepted version of gordon's death, mr. charles neufeld, in his lately published work "a prisoner of the khalifa," gives the following narrative of the occurrence:--"each day at dawn, when he retired to rest, he bolted his door from the inside, and placed his faithful body servant--khaleel agha orphali--on guard outside it. on the fatal night gordon had, as usual, kept his vigil on the roof of the palace, sending and receiving telegraphic messages from the lines every few minutes, and as dawn crept into the skies, thinking that the long-threatened attack was not yet to be delivered, he lay down, wearied out. the little firing heard a few minutes later attracted no more attention than the usual firing which had been going on continuously night and day for months, but when the palace guards were heard firing it was known that something serious was happening. by the time gordon had slipped into his old serge, or dark tweed, suit, and taken his sword and revolver, the advanced dervishes were already surrounding the palace. overcoming the guards, a rush was made up the stairs, and gordon was met leaving his room. a small spear was thrown, which wounded him, but very slightly, on the left shoulder. almost before the dervishes knew what was happening, three of them lay dead, and one wounded, at gordon's feet; the remainder fled. quickly reloading his revolver, gordon made for the head of the stairs, and again drove the reassembling dervishes off. darting back to reload, he received a stab in his left shoulder-blade from a dervish concealed behind the corridor door, and, on reaching the steps the third time, he received a pistol-shot and spear-wound in his right breast, and then, great soldier as he was, he rose almost above himself. with his life's blood pouring from his breast--not his back, remember--he fought his way step by step, kicking from his path the wounded and dead dervishes; ... and as he was passing through the doorway leading into the courtyard another concealed dervish almost severed his leg with a single blow. then gordon fell." [ ] there is an entry in gordon's diary, dated the th november, to the effect that the specie in the treasury was then only £ , although there was paper representing £ , more. [ ] sir c. wilson had left for korti on the th. [ ] major-general sir herbert stewart was born in , and was one of the youngest generals in the service. one of the earliest appointments made on the organization of the army for the first egyptian campaign was that of stewart as staff officer to general drury-lowe, who was to command the cavalry division. he distinguished himself at tel-el-kebir, and took part in drury-lowe's brilliant ride to cairo. when the egyptians sent out a white flag to meet the advancing british force, general (then colonel) stewart at the head of a few lancers and dragoons, demanded, and received, the surrender of the egyptians at abbassieh. he accompanied general graham to souakim, and displayed conspicuous soldierly qualities at tamaai. [ ] a private of the duke of cornwall's regiment found in a donkey's saddle-bag a letter in arabic from the governor of berber to the governor of the district, and which was as follows:--"i inform you that to-day, after the mid-day prayer, we received a letter from the faithful khalifa abdullah eben mohammed, in which he tells us that khartoum was taken on monday, the th rabi, , on the side of el haoui, in the following manner:--the mahdi prayed his dervishes and his troops to advance against the fortifications, and entered khartoum in a quarter of an hour. they killed the traitor gordon, and captured the steamers and boats. god has made him glorious. be grateful and thank and praise god for his unspeakable mercy. i announce it to you. tell your troops." dated the th rabi. [ ] there is an arab proverb which here seems not inapplicable, "being worsted by his mother-in-law, he rounded on his wife," said of one who, having been beaten by a person stronger than himself, takes his revenge upon a weaker individual. [ ] it is said that the mudir of dongola being asked at this time if there was any prospect of good camels being obtained, answered that "he did not see why not, as the english had already bought up all the bad ones." [ ] lord wolseley's reply did not appear in the blue book. [ ] the troops at korti about this time received a visit from some emissaries of the mahdi, who interviewed general dormer and pointed out the wonderful things which their leader could do. he could, they said, even interfere with the forces of nature, and drying up rivers and causing floods were only some of the trifling miracles which he was capable of bringing about. the general, who wore a glass eye, promptly took it out, spun it into the air, and replaced it. "can the mahdi do that?" he asked, at the same time winking with the restored eye. the astonished dervishes made no reply, but quietly "salaamed" and retired, as if unwilling to continue longer in the society of one so evidently in league with evil spirits. [ ] according to the account of an eye-witness the horse artillery was stationed at one period at a point where the underwood grew so thickly that the gunners could not see seventy yards away from the guns. [ ] much of the narrative which follows is taken from "the battle of tofrek," by william galloway ( ). [ ] the salient for the guns was so far advanced that the remaining gardner guns had been brought up ready to be placed in position. the other half battalion of the berkshires remained outside in its original position, the men engaged in having their dinners. [ ] osman wrote to the mahdi that "god struck fear into the hearts of the english, and they went away." [ ] a return of the approximate cost, as nearly as can be ascertained, of the military expeditions, has been issued. the extra cost of the first expedition to souakim, in , was £ , ; the extra cost of the second expedition, in , was £ , , ; and the cost of the souakim-berber railway, including pipe line and water supply, was £ , ; making a total of £ , , . this is the cost incurred over and above the normal charge for the maintenance of the troops concerned. [ ] lord wolseley was created a viscount for his services with the expedition. [ ] for much of the information contained in the present chapter the author is indebted to the excellent work "mahdism and the egyptian soudan," already referred to. [ ] frequently spelt "delligo." [ ] ginnis and kosheh are two villages on the east bank of the nile, and are only separated by a short distance. [ ] osman was reported as slain on the rd september, , when the dervishes were routed by the abyssinians at kufeit. so far from this being the case, he shortly after marched into kassala, in triumph. [ ] much of the narrative of the fight which follows is derived from "mahdism and the egyptian soudan." [ ] grenfell's fighting force amounted to over , men. [ ] the author is indebted to "mahdism and the egyptian soudan" for the greater part of these details. [ ] matuka is situated on the west bank of the nile, five and a half miles south of khor mussa. [ ] alongside the camel was found the one-year-old child of the dead chief. the infant was duly cared for, and is now an intelligent and well educated boy in cairo. [ ] this engagement, which took place at tokar, for some unknown reason is referred to by some writers as the battle of afafit. [ ] egypt's contribution to the expenses of the army of occupation at this period amounted to £ , per annum. [ ] the new coins, although "made in germany," had impressed on them in arabic characters the words "struck in cairo," with the year of the sultan's reign in which they were made superadded. [ ] an instance of this occurred to the author personally. on asking a native landowner if, under the new regime, his taxes were not lighter, and were not collected at a more convenient season than formerly, he replied in the affirmative. interrogated further if his water supply was not more regular, and the increase of his crops was not also greater than before, he answered with an emphatic "yes." when, however, the question was put to him, "to whom do you attribute these changes for the better?" the man simply replied, "'tis the will of allah." [ ] the above figures represent ordinary receipts only. [ ] it is said that colonel rundle, chief of the staff of the egyptian army, was aroused to hear the news by stones thrown at his window in the middle of the night, and that no one could be found bold enough to awake and inform the sirdar, who remained in ignorance until the morning. [ ] in this short campaign the battalion lost no less than sixty-four of their number (including those who died in cairo soon after their return, principally from enteric fever). [ ] reckoning six companies to a battalion, this would make hunter's force amount to about , men. [ ] for a great part of the description above given the author is indebted to mr. bennett burleigh's "sirdar and khalifa." [ ] later on ed damer was disestablished, and fort atbara, at the northern angle of the two rivers, was substituted for it. [ ] this has an important bearing on the choice of routes on the occasion of the despatch of "the gordon relief expedition," dealt with in a previous chapter. [ ] many of the above details of the engagement are taken from the "morning post." [ ] the new frontier was fixed at a spot called zabderat. [ ] the trains attained a speed of twenty-five miles an hour. [ ] a firm of brewers who had forwarded several hundred barrels of beer to wady halfa had them all returned on their hands. [ ] during the stay of the troops, the heat was intense, the thermometer frequently standing at ° in the shade. [ ] according to a report to the war department drawn up by surgeon-major carr, out of the entire british force there were only three men whose wounds were caused by spears, all the rest being the result of gunfire. this would tend to show that the amount of hand-to-hand fighting engaged in was inconsiderable. [ ] later on mahmoud stated that , of his horsemen were half a day's journey distant on the occasion of the fight. [ ] their conversation, which is too long to be reproduced here, after reference to old times, dwelt principally on the impending advance on omdurman. its substance was somewhat as follows:--slatin: "hullo, mahmoud! got _you_ this time, dear boy!" mahmoud: "right you are, slatin, but just you wait till you come across abdullah! then you will see what happens, and he may have you again." [ ] as this is the last occasion on which it will be necessary to refer to messrs. cook & son, it may not be out of place to recall some of the services rendered by that firm in the various operations on the nile in which british troops participated. the important part taken by messrs. cook in regard to the "gordon relief expedition" in has been already mentioned in these pages. on that occasion the firm transported lord wolseley's entire force from assiout to the second cataract. in pursuance of their contract, on this occasion the firm's steamers transported altogether no less than , british and , egyptian troops, whalers, and , tons of stores and war material. when the melancholy failure of the expedition is contrasted with the admirable manner in which messrs. cook performed their contract, one is tempted to regret that the latter was not made to include the rescue of gordon and the soudan garrisons. in the disturbances on the nile frontier in and , messrs. cook's fleet was again occupied in satisfying the military requirements of the british and egyptian governments. in the spring of , when the hurried advance to dongola was made, all of cook's steamers were once more requisitioned for the purpose of conveying troops, both british and egyptian, from belianah to assouan. nor were the services of the firm of a military character only. the late mr. john mason cook, the managing partner, was a man of a singularly benevolent character. the founding of the luxor hospital for natives was only one of many charitable works due to his liberality and energy. when the fighting at tel-el-kebir was over, he undertook the transport of the wounded to cairo by water, and later on, when wolseley's army was decimated with enteric fever, mr. cook conveyed the convalescents by special steamers up the nile, in each case making no charge beyond that of the actual cost of running the vessels. probably few men have done better work in the cause of humanity and civilization than the late head of the firm of "thomas cook & son." his influence with the natives, particularly on the nile, was immense. he was, in fact, regarded as the "king of upper egypt." this is illustrated by at least two good stories told in cairo. one relates to a native schoolboy, who, with a view to testing his proficiency, being asked to name the greatest personage in egypt, replied, "the khedive." he was then asked to name the second, and promptly answered, "mr. john cook." the other anecdote is that of the provincial governor, who when introduced by cook's chief dragoman to lord cromer, then visiting upper egypt, said, "i never heard of lord cromer, but i am very happy to know any friend of mr. cook." john mason cook died at walton-on-thames on the th march, , after having enjoyed the unique distinction of being honoured and decorated by the sovereigns of almost every country in europe but his own. [ ] it subsequently appeared that the actual numbers were between , and , . [ ] these guns fired lb. shells with the new explosive called "lyddite." [ ] the british were armed with the lee-metford magazine rifle, and the egyptians with the martini-henry. [ ] the bush defence turned out a mistake, as the men had to stand up to fire over it, and thus exposed themselves to the enemy's bullets, whereas the egyptian troops were able to lie down under the shelter of their trench. [ ] captain kenna and lieutenant de montmorency received the victoria cross for their gallantry on this occasion. [ ] sir herbert kitchener was created baron kitchener of khartoum, and a sum of £ , was awarded him. [ ] sir f. r. wingate says in his report of rd march, :--"of the , dervish black troops who surrendered , were wounded; there were wounded in almost every house in omdurman; and, in view of the fact that almost every able-bodied man in the town had been forced to take part in the battle, it is fair to conclude that the number of wounded ( , ) as telegraphed was not over-estimated." [ ] the total number of prisoners eventually set free at omdurman was no less than , , of whom , were civil and military employés of the egyptian government, taken captive when khartoum, obeid, and other places fell into the hands of the mahdi. [ ] mr. bennett in the "contemporary review." [ ] see lord cromer's despatch to the marquis of salisbury, dated th march, . [ ] lord cromer, as a recognition of his services in egypt, was created viscount cromer in january, . [ ] the egyptian war department was signally reticent with regard to this expedition, and for most of the foregoing particulars the author is indebted to a work recently published called "sudan campaigns, - ." [ ] these figures, which include both ordinary and extraordinary receipts, are, with the exception of those relating to the years and , taken from statistical tables compiled by sir elwin palmer, late financial adviser to the egyptian government. it should be added that the egyptian pound may be regarded as the equivalent of £ s. d. in english money. [ ] the kantar is equal to lbs. oz. [ ] these figures are taken from mr. a. silva white's lately published work called "the expansion of egypt." [ ] the diminution in the telegraph receipts is due to a large reduction in the tariff. [ ] see memorandum by sir w. e. garstin, c.e., dated th november, , "parliamentary papers, egypt no. , ." transcriber's notes: punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed. simple typographical errors were corrected. original publication used symbols for footnotes. this ebook uses one sequence of numbers for them. page : missing footnote anchor [ ] added by transcriber, based on context. a narrative of the expedition to dongola and sennaar, under the command of his excellence ismael pasha, undertaken by order of his highness mehemmed ali pasha, viceroy of egypt. by an american in the service of the viceroy. london: john murray, albemarle street. . london: printed by c. roworth, bell yard temple bar to his britannic majesty's consul general in egypt, henry salt, esq. my fatherly friend in a foreign land, this work is dedicated, with affectionate respect, by the author: and recommended to the kind care and patronage of john william bankes, esq. by his obliged friend and servant, henry salt. by george bethune english, general of artillery in the u.s. service preface mehemmed ali pasha, the victorious pacificator of egypt and arabia, is already renowned in the civilized world. egypt, once the home of discord and the headquarters of anarchy, under his administration has long enjoyed peace and prosperity; is permeable in all directions, and in perfect safety to the merchant and the traveler, and is yearly progressing in wealth and improvement.[ ] the viceroy has been particularly attentive to revive and extend those commercial relations of egypt with the surrounding countries, which once rendered it the richest and most flourishing territory in the ancient world. a well chosen library of the best european books on the art military, geography, astronomy, medicine, history, belles-lettres and the fine arts has been purchased from europe by the viceroy and placed in the palace of ismael pasha, where is also a school, at the viceroy's expense, for the instruction of the mussulman youth in the italian language and the sciences of the franks. to which establishments has been lately added a printing press, for printing books in the turkish, arabic and persian languages, and a weekly newspaper in arabic and italian. the library and the press are under the superintendence of osman noureddin effendi, a young turk of great good sense, and who is well versed in the literature of europe, where he has resided for several years, by order of the viceroy, for his education: he is at present engaged in translating into turkish some works on tactics, for the use of his countrymen. for several years past the inland commerce of this favored land had suffered great interruptions from the confusion and discord to which the countries on the upper nile have been a prey. the chiefs of shageia had formed themselves into a singular aristocracy of brigands, and pillaged all the provinces and caravans within their reach, without mercy and without restraint; while the civil wars, which have distracted the once powerful kingdom of sennaar for these last eighteen years, had occasioned an almost entire cessation of a commerce, from which egypt had derived great advantages. his highness the viceroy, in consequence, determined, as the most effectual means of putting an end to these disorders, to subject those countries to his dominion. four thousand troops were accordingly put under the command of ismael pasha, the youngest son of the viceroy, with orders to conquer all the provinces on the nile, from the second cataract to sennaar inclusive. through the influence of the recommendation of henry salt, esq., his britannic majesty's consul general in egypt, i was ordered by the viceroy to accompany this expedition, with the rank of topgi bashi, i.e. a chief of artillery, and with directions to propose such plans of operation to the pasha ismael as i should deem expedient, but which the pasha might adopt or reject as he should think proper. this expedition has been perfectly successful; and the conquest of the extensive and fertile countries, which, in the reign of candace, repulsed the formidable legions of rome, has been effected at an expense not greater than the blood of about two hundred soldiers. the principal cause of a success so extraordinary, at such a price, has been the humanity and good faith of the pasha ismael towards those provinces that submitted without fighting. perfect security of person and property was assured to the peaceable, and severe examples were made of those few of the soldiery, who, in a very few instances, presumed to violate it. the good consequences of this deportment toward the people of these countries have been evident. all have seen that those who have preferred peace before war have had peace without war, and that those who preferred war before peace have not had peace but at the price of ruin. the destruction or disarmament of the brigands, who have heretofore pillaged those countries with impunity--the establishment of order and tranquility--the security now assured to the peasants and the caravans--and the annexment of so many fine provinces and kingdoms to the sway of the viceroy of egypt,[ ] are not the only consequences of this expedition that will give him glory. this expedition has laid open to the researches of the geographer and the antiquarian a river and a country highly interesting, and hitherto imperfectly known to the civilized world. the nile, on whose banks we have marched for so many hundred miles, is the most famous river in the world, for the uncertainty of its source and the obscurity of its course. at present this obscurity ceases to exist, and before the return of the pasha ismael this uncertainty will probably be no more. the countries we have traversed are renowned in history and poetry as the land of ancient and famous nations, which have established and overthrown mighty empires, and have originated the religions, the learning, the arts, and the civilization of nations long since extinct; and who have been preceded by their instructors in the common road which every thing human must travel. this famous land of cush and saba, at present overawed by the camps of the osmanii, has presented to our observation many memorials of the power and splendor of its ancient masters. the remains of cities once populous--ruined temples once magnificent--colossal statues of idols once adored, but now prostrated by the strong arms of time and truth--and more than a hundred pyramids, which entomb the bodies of kings and conquerors once mighty, but whose memory has perished, have suspended for awhile the march of our troops--have attracted the notice of the franks, who voyage with the army with the favor and the protection of the pasha,[ ] and which doubtless ere long, by engaging the attention and researches of men of learning, will unite the names of mehemmed ali and ismael his son with the history and monuments of this once famous and long secluded land, in a manner that will make the memory of both renowned and inseparable. that the further progress of the pasha ismael southward of his present position will be successful, there is every reason to believe; and i derive great pleasure from the reflection, that his success will still further augment the glory of the man whom the sultan delights to honor, and who has done so much for the honor of the mussulmans. the reader will find that i have sometimes, in the course of this journal, included the events of several days in the form of narrative, particularly in my account of the second cataract. wherever i have so done, it has been occasioned by paroxysms of a severe ophthalmia, which afflicted me for fifteen months, and rendered me at times incapable of writing. a narrative &c. &c. &c. i arrived at the camp at wady haifa on the second cataract, on the th of the moon zilhadge, in the year of the hegira ,[ ] where i found about four thousand troops,[ ] consisting of turkish cavalry, infantry and artillery, and a considerable proportion of bedouin cavalry and mogrebin foot soldiers, besides about one hundred and twenty large boats loaded with provisions and ammunition, and destined to follow the march of the army to the upper countries of the nile. th of zilhadge. presented myself to his excellency the pasha ismael, by whom i was received in a very nattering manner, and presented with a suit of his own habiliments. on my asking his excellency if he had any orders for me, he replied, that he was at present solely occupied in expediting the loading and forwarding the boats carrying the provisions of the army, but that when that was finished he would send for me to receive his commands. i employed this interval in noticing the assemblage that composed the army. the chiefs and soldiers i found well disposed to do their duty, through attachment to their young commander and through fear of mehemmed ali. they were alert to execute what orders they received, and very busy in smoking their pipes when they had nothing else to do. on the th i was sent for by the pasha, with whom i remained in private audience for an hour. on the st of the moon zilhadge was attacked by that distressing malady the ophthalmia. in two days the progress of the disorder was such that my eyes were closed up and incapable of supporting the light, and occasioned me such acute anguish that i could get no sleep but by the effect of laudanum. this misfortune at this crisis was peculiarly vexatious and mortifying for me, as it put it out of my power to accompany the pasha, who departed with the army for dongola on the th, taking his route on the west bank of the river, and leaving the divan effendi and a small party of soldiers to expedite the loading and forwarding the boats that had not as yet got ready to proceed up the cataract. on the d of mofiarram, a. h. , i embarked on board the boat of the frank surgeons attached to the army, and left the lower or north end of the second cataract as it is commonly styled in the maps, in company with fifteen boats to follow and rejoin the army. i would here observe that what is called the second cataract is properly a succession of partial falls and swift rapids for more than a hundred miles before we arrived at succoot. i counted nine; some of them, particularly the second,[ ] fifth,[ ] seventh,[ ] and ninth,[ ] very dangerous to pass, though at this time the nile had fallen but a few feet. before we arrived at the fifth, two boats were wrecked against the rocks which crowd the rapids, and one filled and sunk; and before we had passed the ninth several similar accidents had taken place. to pass the fifth and ninth rapids, it was necessary to employ about a hundred men to drag the boats one after another against the current. at the fifth pass, several of the boats were damaged, and two soldiers and two boatmen drowned. at this pass, the river is interrupted by a ledge of rocks reaching nearly across, and over which the nile falls. between this ledge of rocks and the western shore of the river is a practicable passage, wide enough to admit a boat to be hauled up the current, which here runs furiously. overlooking this passage are two hills, one on the east and one on the west side of the river: on these hills are the ruins of ancient fortifications. they are also surmounted by two small temples in the egyptian style: that on the west side is almost perfect. it is sculptured exteriorly and interiorly with figures and hieroglyphics, and the ceiling is painted azure.[ ] the appearance of the country on each side of the falls is similar to that of the country south of assuan--a sandy desert studded with rocky hills and mountains, the only appearance of vegetation observable was in some of the islands and on the immediate banks of the river, where we met at every mile or two with small spots of fertile ground, some of them cultivated and inhabited. the rocky hills consist frequently of beautiful black granite, of the color and brilliancy of the best sea-coal. here and there, at different points on the cataract, i observed some forts built by the natives of the country. they are constructed of unhewn stones cemented with mud, and flanked by towers and angular projections something resembling bastions, and are pierced with loopholes for musquetry. their interior presents the following appearance:--against the interior side of the walls all round are built low chambers, communicating by small doors with the area and frequently with each other. i could observe nothing in these chambers except the bottom part of the small handmills used by the orientals to grind meal, which could not be hastily removed as they were fixed in the ground; every thing else the inhabitants had carried off on the approach of the army. the great area in the centre of these forts appeared to have been occupied by the camels and flocks of the inhabitants; some of these forts are to be seen surmounting the high rocky islands with which the second cataract abounds, and make a picturesque appearance. on the d of the moon safa, we passed what our rais erroneously told us was the last rapid between us and succoot. we have been thirty days in getting thus far,[ ] the causes of our having been so long in getting up the falls were several. the crews of the boats which had passed unhurt a dangerous passage were frequently detained to unload and repair those which had been wrecked or damaged.--we have been detained at the entrances of these rapids frequently for several days, for want of a sufficient wind, it being absolutely necessary that the wind should be very strong to enable the boats to force themselves through currents running between the rocks with dreadful rapidity; and more than once the boatmen have hesitated to attempt a dangerous pass till obliged by the presence and menaces of the divan effendi who accompanied the boats. on the d of safa, about an hour after we had passed what our rais told us was the last rapid of consequence we should have to encounter, we saw the wreck of a boat lying against a rock in the middle of the river, her masts alone appearing out of the water. the river here is interrupted by several high insulated rocks. we had been assured that we should now find the river open and without difficulty, till we should come to succoot; the appearance of this boat seemed to contradict this representation, and in about an hour after we had abundant reason to be satisfied that it was false. i was congratulating myself that we had got into smooth water, and indulging myself with a tranquil pipe of tobacco, when suddenly the wind slackened just as we were passing between two ledges of rocks where the river was running at the rate of about six knots an hour. the current overpowered the effort of the sails, and carried the boat directly among the reefs, near the west bank of the river. after remaining for about ten minutes in a very perilous position, the skill of our rais happily got the boat to shore without injury. d of safa. we remained all night at the place where we landed; in the morning got under sail to pass the strong current we had attempted yesterday without success. after buffeting about for an hour we were forced to return to the bank of the river, and await a stronger wind. in about an hour after the wind freshened and we got under way with better fortune, and after passing the current before mentioned found ourselves in smooth water. after sailing for an hour we stopped for ten minutes at a place where we saw sheep, in order to purchase some, having for the last twenty days been obliged to live on bread, rice, and lentils. succeeded in purchasing two lambs. the banks of the river hereabouts present some fertile spots, a few of them cultivated. about noon the wind fell and the rais put to shore; we immediately set our domestics about preparing the purchased meat, and shortly after we sat down to this regale, which appeared to me the most delicious meal i had eaten for many years.[ ] remained here for the remainder of the day. th of safa. continued in the same place, there not being sufficient wind to ascend the river. about two hours after noon arrived an arab from above; he was on his way to the divan effendi, who was a few miles below us, to inform him that a boat, of which he had been one of the crew, had been dashed to pieces against the rocks in attempting to pass a rapid. i demanded of him "how many rapids there were yet ahead;" he replied "that there were several; how many he did not exactly know." this intelligence made me apprehensive that we might be another month in getting through these obstacles, and determined me to renew my efforts to obtain camels and proceed to the pasha by land. i had made several attempts to hire some for this purpose, during the last fifteen days, without success. the man above mentioned informed me that i could probably obtain some at a village about six hours off. i determined to send my servants on the morrow to inquire. th of safa. passed the night at the same place; early in, the morning a favorable breeze sprung up and the rais got the boat under sail. was obliged, in consequence, to proceed in the boat as long as the wind held. observed as we proceeded a number of fertile spots, some of them cultivated, and a few small villages. i was informed that these will become more frequent as we proceed. during this day, with a favorable wind, made only about twelve miles against the current. th of safa. got under way about two hours after sunrise, with a strong breeze from the northward. about half an hour after quitting the land, passed a dangerous rapid, occasioned by a. reef of rocks reaching nearly across the river. in passing this rapid the wind slackened for half a minute, and the current carried the boat astern to within six or seven feet of the rocks; at this critical instant the wind happily freshened, and forced the boat up the current, to the great relief of all on board. an hour after, passed a picturesque spot, where the river is divided by a high rocky island, supporting on its summit some ruined fortifications made by the natives; on the right bank of the river, just opposite, is a fertile spot of ground and a village, surrounded by date trees and plantations. our rais put to land about noon, the wind falling, and rocks and rapids of formidable appearance being right ahead.[ ] we have made about eight miles to-day. saw about two miles above us a number of boats lying to the shore, apparently obstructed by the rapid just mentioned. about the middle of the afternoon, in walking along the shore, saw a crocodile; it was small, about three feet in length. when i came upon him, he was sunning himself on the shore; on seeing me, he ran with great rapidity and plunged into the river. th of safa. got under way about two hours after sunrise, to pass the rocks and rapids already mentioned. the passage was dangerous, and the boat thrice in imminent peril. we struck once on rocks under water, where the current was running probably at the rate of six knots an hour. the current, after about ten minutes, swept the boat off without having received a hole in her bottom, otherwise we must probably have perished. shortly after we were jammed between a great shallow whirlpool and a large boat on our starboard beam. this boat was dashed by the current against ours, and menaced to shove her into the whirlpool. the long lateen yards of the two boats got entangled, and i was prepared to leap into the other boat, in anticipation of the destruction of ours, when the wind freshened, and the large boat was enabled to get clear of ours. not long after, the same boat fell aboard of us the second time, in a place where, if our boat had drifted twice her length to leeward or astern, she must have run upon rocks. all these accidents befell us, having under our eyes, at no great distance from us, the wreck of a boat lost in this passage three or four days ago.[ ] after being for about two hours in danger, the boat arrived at the west bank of the river, where we found many more waiting a sufficient wind to be enabled to clear the remainder of the rapid, which runs very strong here. stayed for a wind at this place two days. on the th of safa, the boat happily passed the remainder of the rapid, when the wind calmed, and the rais put to shore, there being yet a strong current to surmount. opposite to the place where we were, at about half a mile from the shore, a boat had stuck fast upon some rocks this morning, all attempts to get her off had proved unsuccessful, and she remained in that position, with all her company on board, till next morning. th of safa. quitted the shore about an hour after sunrise, with a fine northerly wind. passed the boat just mentioned, whose people looked very forlorn. some small boats were then on the way to unload this boat, should it be found impossible to disengage her. proceeded on our way, and passed a number of small but pretty islands, lying near the west bank of the river. they are cultivated and inhabited by a considerable population. the country on the borders of the river begins to assume a better appearance--the territory of succoot, which we were now entering, containing many villages. beyond the green banks of the river, all is yellow desert, spotted with brown rocky mountains, which, however, appeared to decrease in number and height as we advanced up the river, till the country subsided into a plain, with a few isolated mountains of singular forms and picturesque appearance here and there in view. about two hours after mid-day we arrived at a place where the river is embarrassed by small rocks and shoals, except a narrow pass on the western side. we found the current here too strong to be surmounted by the aid of what wind we had, and therefore put to shore on a very fine island on our left. we passed the remainder of the day here with satisfaction. this island is about a mile and a half in length, naturally beautiful, and well cultivated by about fifty or sixty inhabitants, who seemed to be well contented with their situation.[ ] we saw here three men of about twenty-five years of age, who had been circumcised but five days past, a thing i had never before known to have occurred to the children of mussulmans. th of safa. at an early hour, quitted the shore with a strong northerly wind, to pass the current which had stopped us yesterday. this day's sail was the most agreeable of any we had enjoyed since we left egypt, the river, since we had passed the rapids of dall, (where the second cataract of the nile properly commences,) having become as broad as in egypt, and now flowing tranquilly through a country equally fertile, and much more picturesque than the finest parts of said. the eastern bank of the river, particularly, presented a continual succession of villages, and fine soil crowded with trees, and all cultivated. passed, during the day, some fine and large islands, also occupied by numerous villages. we stopped at night at one of these islands, by whose beautiful borders we had been sailing with great pleasure for more than four hours, with a stiff breeze. we were in formed by the inhabitants, that this island was a day's walk in breadth. they said, that, as we advanced, we should find others as large and larger. their island, they told us, was called syee. they appeared to be well satisfied with their condition, having an abundance of every thing absolutely needful for a comfortable subsistence, and decent clothing of their own manufacture. what surprised me not a little, was to find the people as white as the arabs of lower egypt, whereas the inhabitants of nubia are quite black, though their features are not those of the negro. i have observed, that the country through which we passed to-day, was as fertile and much more picturesque than the said. the reason for the latter part of this assertion is, that in the said the view is limited by the ridges of barren and calcined mountains that bound it on both sides, whereas here the view ranges over plains bounded only by the horizon, and interspersed here and there with isolated mountains of most singular forms. some of them might be mistaken for pyramids, they are so regular and well defined; some resembled lofty cones, and others resembled lofty square or pentagonal redoubts. one of the latter description lies upon the eastern bank of the river, and could easily be made an impregnable fortress, which could command all water communication between egypt and dongola. the scenes of verdure and cultivation through which we had passed today, removed all suspicions from my mind as to what had been reported to me of the great difference between nubia and the country beyond it. all the villages we have passed to-day, have in their centre a fort or castle, fortified with towers at the corners, and, judging from those we visited, resembling in their interior those on the cataract already described. the village, consisting of low huts, built of mud, is built round the walls of the fort, which is intended to serve as a place of retreat and defense for the inhabitants and their flocks, in case of alarm or attack. they are governed in the manner of the families of the patriarchs, the sheck of the village being both judge and captain. saw at this island a small skiff, the first boat belonging to the inhabitants of the country that i have seen since quitting wady halfa. th of safa, parted from the land about an hour after sunrise and proceeded on our voyage, which was, if possible, still more agreeable than that of yesterday. on the east bank of the river, the eye rests on a continued succession of villages, occupying land of the finest quality, and lying under a continued forest of palm trees, larger and taller, in my opinion, than those growing in egypt. on the right we saw, as we passed, a chain of beautiful islands, some of them large and presenting the same spectacle as the east bank. it is certainly a beautiful country. the river from assuan has only about half the breadth that it has in egypt. in this country it is as broad, and in many places, on account of the large islands it here contains, very much broader than it is in egypt. we stopped at night at one of these fine islands, whose breadth being but about two miles, enabled us to have a view of the west bank of the river, which presented the same succession of villages and cultivation as on the oriental side. i have already observed, that the date trees of this country were larger and taller than those in egypt. we found a similar difference in the animals of this country; i purchased a sucking lamb, which was certainly as big as an egyptian sheep of a year's growth. the cattle of this country differ from those of egypt, in bearing, as to form, a resemblance to the buffalo. they have a rising on the shoulder, and a similar form of the hips. they are also larger than the cows of egypt. th of safa. the wind did not spring up this morning till a late hour, and after continuing for about an hour and a half, fell calm. we put to shore on the western bank of the river, where we passed the remainder of the day and the night. the country continued fine and crowded with villages. at this place, some of the boat's company attempted to shoot a hippopotamus, who had shown himself several times during the day. they succeeded only in slightly wounding him, after which he disappeared. the people of the country say that there are twelve that frequent this place in the river, which contains here some low islands, well adapted to afford them food and concealment. th of safa. parted from the land about two hours after sunrise, with a strong breeze. after continuing an hour and a half the wind subsided into a calm, which obliged us to make for the shore. we landed on a large island resembling those already mentioned, where we passed the remainder of the day and the night. the country we had passed resembled that below, beautiful, and as fertile as land can be. th of safa. left the land about an hour after sunrise, and in half an hour passed the southern boundary of the beautiful territory of succoot, and entered the province of machass. the country we were now passing is naturally fertile, but has not such a continued succession of villages as succoot. about three hours after sunrise came in view of the ruins of an ancient temple on the west bank. with some difficulty engaged the rais to put to shore for a few minutes, to give me an opportunity of visiting it. this temple is manifestly of egyptian architecture; it is about two hundred feet long from east to west; ten of the columns only are standing; they are composed of separate blocks of a brown stone resembling that employed in the construction of the temples in the isle of philoe. the walls of this temple are in ruins, except a part of the front which is in a very dilapidated state. the front faces the east; the pillars and the ruins of the walls are sculptured with hieroglyphics. it stands on the west bank of the river about two miles beyond the territory of succoot. about an hour after leaving this place, the wind falling, our rais was obliged to put to shore. we soon arrived at the western bank of the river, the nile being in this place not a mile broad. the remainder of the day being calm, we staid here till next morning. several of the pasha's cavalry passed along the west bank of the river yesterday and to-day, bearing repeated orders from dongola to the commanders of the boats to hasten their progress. th of safa. at an early hour started with a favorable wind, but in about two hours were obliged to put to shore. the river hereabouts makes several turns almost at right angles with each other. this circumstance brought the wind directly ahead in one of the bends and obliged us to remain there till next morning. the country we saw to-day is not equal to the territory of succoot; the date trees, the villages, and the cultivation are not so continued; and the view from the river is bounded at a little distance from its banks by low rocky hills. saw to-day a singular mode of navigating the river; a man, who apparently was traveling down the river with his whole family, had placed his youngest wife and her two young children on a small raft made of bundles of corn-stalks lashed together, he himself swam by its side to guide it, while he kept his old wife a swimming and pushing it by the stern, and in this way they proceeded down the river. i have seen in this country small rafts made to carry one person, which are very well contrived. three or four large empty gourds are fastened firmly to a small oblong frame made out of the branches of the date tree, the whole not weighing two pounds. a man may go safely down or across the river on this, either by fastening it to his breast and swimming supported by it, or by riding on it astride; and when on shore he can carry it with ease either in his hand or on his shoulder. th of safa, in the morning found that the wind had changed a little in our favor, got under way, but after sailing for about two hours the winding of the river again brought it ahead. put to shore and staid there till the middle of the afternoon, when the wind again hauled a little in our favor, and with some difficulty we got to windward of the shore and proceeded up the river. the river here is about half a mile broad, and makes several turns which somewhat retarded our progress. we observed some rocks and shoals, and on arriving at a place where the river is divided by a large rocky island, observed a boat aground, which had taken the right hand passage which was the broadest, and two others turning back to take the passage on the other side of this island. we followed their example, and found the passage safe enough. a little beyond the upper end of this island the river makes an acute angle to the right hand. we proceeded onwards till sunset, when we put to shore in company with two other boats. the country we have passed through to-day resembled that we saw yesterday, inferior to the fine territory of succoot. th of safa, left the land an hour and a half after sunrise, with a fine breeze from the north. sailed for about an hour through a country where the rocky hills come down here and there close to the river banks and narrowed the usual breadth of the nile considerably. observed however in this tract of country a few fine and cultivated islands. shortly after the river widened, the rocky hills retired at a distance, and the eye rested with pleasure on a beautiful country cultivated by the inhabitants of a continued succession of villages and castles which occupied both banks of the river. the country resembled the province of succoot, except that the date trees were not so numerous nor so tall and large. passed the ruins of a considerable fortified town situated on a high hill on the west bank. a little beyond this place saw the ruins of a temple; four of the columns are yet standing; could not go ashore to examine it, as the wind was fair and strong, and the rais under positive orders to proceed with all expedition. observed that several of the castles we had passed yesterday and to-day appeared newer and better constructed for defense than those we had seen along the cataract. i suspect that they were erected under the direction of the exiled mamalukes, as this tract forms a part of the territory subject to them before the arrival of the pasha ismael. continued to advance, through a country very beautiful, the river here embosoming several large and delightful islands, capable of being made, by the hands of enlightened industry, every thing that the art of man operating upon a fine soil under a soft climate could effect. we sailed pleasantly by these charming shores and islands till an hour and a half before sunset, when we came in view of a rapid ahead, and the wreck of a boat lost in passing it. the rais put to shore, and after taking on board a native of the country to show him the passage through the rocks and shallows, attempted to pass immediately; the effort was unsuccessful. after remaining in the foaming passage for three quarters of an hour, we found that the wind was not strong enough to force the boat through the current, and as the sun was about setting and the wind falling, the rais was obliged to let the boat drift back to the shore from whence we had departed. th of safa. at about two hours after sunrise, the rais thought the wind sufficiently favorable and strong to carry the boat through the rapid. we quitted the shore, and again faced the current. the rais this time was not mistaken; our boat forced her way slowly but victoriously through the torrent, and in about three quarters of an hour carried us safely into smooth water, where we could draw every advantage from a fine wind, which swept us rapidly up the river between shores fertile and cultivated by the inhabitants of a continued succession of villages shaded by palm trees. about an hour after we had passed the rapid, we stopped to receive on board three of our company who had left the boat yesterday in search of fresh provisions on the western bank of the river. they reported that they had seen a large pond of fresh water inland, and had found the country for seven miles from the river crowded with villages, and as fertile as possible. they represented that this country was watered by two ranges of water-wheels; one range on the bank of the river, which threw the water of the nile into small canals leading to reservoirs inland, from whence the other range took it up and distributed it to this fine territory. about noon we passed, on the east bank, two very high, large and isolated rocks of irregular and picturesque forms. on the side of the southernmost were the remains of a considerable fortified town. the country hereabouts is very beautiful. about three o'clock we passed another rapid, which was not however very difficult. found the river beyond this place much narrowed and impeded by rocks. passed two more rapids, the first of little consequence, but the latter somewhat dangerous. in this last rapid saw two boys sitting on a raft made of cornstalks lashed together, and driving down the current. they appeared to be much at their ease, and not at all alarmed at the rapid, though the current frequently whirled their fragile raft round and round as it rushed past us. soon after passing this rapid the sun set, and we put to shore to pass the night. th of safa. about two hours after sunrise we left the shore with a fair and fresh breeze. the river here is broad, and the country on both banks fertile and peopled. after about an hour's sail we came up with some beautiful islands, one of them very large and among the finest we had seen. the islands above the second cataract are probably the most beautiful spots watered by the nile, which rarely over flows them. they are the most populous and best cultivated parts of this country. half an hour after we came up with the large island, the wind became squally, and the boat could not make safe progress. our rais therefore put to shore, as did those of five other boats in company with ours. we remained here for the rest of the day. th of safa. in the morning, left the laud with the wind almost ahead. after sailing about three miles, the rais found it necessary to put to shore, as the wind was strong and too much ahead. stayed by the land till nearly noon, when the wind appearing to me and others on board, more favorable, we, after some hard words with the rais, persuaded him to get under way, the wind being about the same as in the morning, and very strong. in about an hour we arrived at a bend in the river, which enabled us to bring the wind aft. we proceeded with great rapidity, threading the rocks and shoals with which the river here abounds, till we came in view of a rapid ahead. we had been informed, two days ago, that there was a dangerous rapid between us and dongola, and we congratulated ourselves that the wind was fair and strong to push us through it; we passed it happily, though not without peril. we felicitated ourselves on having cleared the only obstacle, as we supposed, between us and the place of our destination, when we came in view of another, of a more formidable appearance than any we had yet seen. the passage lay where the river rolled furiously over rocks under water, and between shores there was no approaching, on account of the shoals and rocks above and under water which lined them. the strong wind forced our boat alongside of another that was struggling and reeling in the passage, to the imminent danger of both. to clear this boat, our rais ventured to pass ours over a place where the foam and fury of the water indicated latent rocks. we hardly dared to breathe, but we did not strike here, but half a minute after we were fast upon a sand bank. we stayed in this condition for about a quarter of an hour, having in view close by us the wreck of a boat lost here. with considerable difficulty our boat was disengaged, when we put her before the wind and again faced this truly infernal pass. by the force of the current, the boat neared a large and furious whirlpool, formed by an eddy on the side of the passage. the steersman endeavored, in vain, to counteract this drift of the boat by the aid of the rudder. the side of the boat approached to within a yard of the white foam which covered this dreadful spot. our rais tore his turban from his head, and lifted his clasped hands to heaven, exclaiming, "we are lost!" the rest of the boatmen were screaming to god and the prophet for aid, when, i know not how, but by the good providence that watched over us, the boat cleared this peril, and others that beset us in passing yet two more rapids almost as dangerous. on passing the last, we found the river divided lengthways, by a ridge of rocks and low islands covered with verdure. on the right or west side of this ridge, where we were, the view ahead presented our side of the river crowded with rocks, which we could not pass. the singular ridge already mentioned, presented, however, some gaps, which afforded passages into that part of the river that was on the other side of this ridge. we passed through what appeared to us the safest of these gaps, and soon after found ourselves in smooth but shallow water: the river hereabouts being not less than five or six miles broad, and spotted with rocks and little green islands and ridges. soon after, a boat ahead grounded, and stuck fast for some time: about five minutes after, our boat received a violent shock from a rock under water. the rais put the boat under her foresail only, in order that in case she struck, it might be with as little force as possible. shortly after, it being about an hour before sunset, the rais put to shore to inquire of the people of the country as to the condition of the river ahead. the country we saw this day, on both sides of the river, is a level plain; only one hill was visible. the shores, and many of the islands we passed to-day, were such as we should have contemplated with greater pleasure, if we could have employed our eyes and thoughts upon any thing beside the perils by which we were environed. they are fertile, verdant, and in many places truly picturesque. we put to shore this day, as said before, about an hour before sunset. when we disembarked, we found ourselves upon a large and beautiful island, almost covered with trees of various kinds. the view from this island ranges over an immense green plain, bounded only by the horizon, and presents a great river winding in several branches through islands and shores composed of as fine a soil as any in the world, and covered with trees, among which the date tree bore a small proportion. dongola, we were told, was but a few hours distant from this place. st of safa. at sunrise, quitted the land and proceeded up the river, which we found very wide and shallow. its middle was occupied by an almost continual range of islands, in my opinion without superior in any river whatever.[ ] the country bounding the river is a beautiful plain, as far as the eye can reach, as fertile as land can be, and covered with a great variety of trees, plants, and fields of corn. we sailed on with a fair wind till within half an hour of sunset, without coming in sight of dongola. this, after the information we had received yesterday, somewhat disappointed us, but we consoled ourselves by observing the islands and shores we were passing, comparable to which, in point of luxuriant fertility, egypt itself cannot show. the whole country is absolutely overwhelmed with the products of the very rich soil of which it consists. d of safa. quitted the land at an early hour and proceeded up the river, in hourly expectation of coming in view of dongola, which we had been given to understand was a considerable town. after sailing with a good wind till the middle of the afternoon, without seeing any thing but a very fertile country, resembling that we passed yesterday, the people on shore, on our landing and demanding whereabouts dongola was, informed us that we were in dongola, meaning the country so called. on our asking where was the city or town of dongola, they pointed to a large village in the distance on the west bank of the river, and told us that village was called "new dongola," and that old dongola was farther up the river. they informed us that the pasha had left a guard of twenty-four soldiers here, and had proceeded with the army three days' march farther up the river, where we should find him. we determined to proceed to his encampment. we saw to-day, for the first time, a small sail boat, constructed by the people of the country; it was very clumsy, resembling a log canoe. the river, in some places which we passed to-day, appeared to be about three miles from bank to bank, but shallow; the islands and shores presenting the same spectacle of luxuriant vegetation that we saw yesterday. we bought a lamb of three weeks old, this evening, whose mother was as tall as a calf of two months old. this species of sheep is hairy, and has no wool. the kidneys of this lamb were large enough to cover the palm of my hand, though the animal was undoubtedly undiseased. d of safa. got under way shortly after sunrise, and proceeded up the river with a fine wind, which lasted during the day, and carried us probably thirty miles on our way. the country through which we passed to-day is not so good as that we saw yesterday; the desert comes down to the banks of the river in several places. we saw many villages, but for the last two days have observed none of those castles so frequent in the lower country. about an hour and a half after we quitted the land, passed a fortified town on the west bank of the river, which appeared to be mostly in ruins. on our landing, at night, we endeavored to purchase some provisions, but the people of the country could only spare us some milk and vegetables, for which they would not take money, but demanded flour. on our consenting to this proposition, they brought us an abundance of the articles above mentioned. they informed us that there was a town called dongola, containing about three hundred houses, at the distance of two days' sail from this place, and that the pasha was encamped three days' march in advance of dongola. th of safa. left the shore this morning shortly after sunrise, and proceeded on our voyage. the country we passed through this day was, on the west bank of the river, fine, but on the east bank the desert was visible at a little distance from the river almost all the day. passed two considerable fortified towns, situated on the left bank of the river; they were almost in ruins. an hour before sunset we put to shore on the west bank, where we found a fertile and cultivated country. the people who occupied it, said that they had settled here a year ago; the island they had occupied before having been overflowed by the river, and their plantations destroyed. th of safa. this day made but little progress, there having been a calm for more than half the day; what country we saw resembled that passed yesterday. th of safa. remained fast by the shore for the whole of this day, the wind being ahead. the country on the west bank of the river, where we stopped, is fine, but deserted by the inhabitants. some of the boat's company, who went up the country in search of provisions, reported that they had seen the ruins of a temple, containing fragments of columns of black granite. i determined, in case the wind on the morrow should continue unfavorable, to visit this place. they also had met a party of fifteen armed men, who informed them that they belonged to this country, but had been compelled to quit it, and fly, by the brigands of shageia, who had infested and ravaged the country, but had returned on hearing that the pasha ismael had defeated and expelled these robbers, and had invited every fugitive peasant to return home, giving them assurance of future safety and protection. we were alarmed this evening by the report of several musket shot, which appeared to come from the other side of the river, where, we had been told, still lurked some of the brigands. prepared our arms to be ready in case of attack, but passed the night unmolested. th of safa. early in the morning, quitted the shore with a fair wind, and proceeded on our voyage; dongola being, we were told, but half a day's distance from us. the appearance of the country still the same. th of safa. made but little way today, the wind being light. about the middle of the afternoon, put to shore on the east bank of the river, as there appeared to be no villages in sight on the other shore, and we were in want of provisions. the country we saw to-day is very good, and covered with trees, but sparely inhabited. the country where we landed was, however, tolerably well cultivated by the inhabitants of several villages hereabouts. the soil, where it was not cultivated, was completely covered with trees, generally of no great height, and with bushes and long rank grass. the habitations of many of the inhabitants could with difficulty be found; they are frequently nothing but a rough arbor formed in the thickets. we had continual reason to be surprised, that a country naturally so rich should be so thinly populated and so carelessly cultivated. the people, however, appeared to be content with raising enough for their subsistence, and to desire nothing beyond this. our money they did not value; they would give us nothing for money, but the flour of egypt readily obtained what they could spare. th of safa. at sunrise left the land with a fair and strong wind, and proceeded up the river with rapidity. in about two hours passed what appeared to be the ruins of a large fortified city, situated on a commanding eminence on the east bank of the river. shortly after, put to shore on the west bank of the river, the wind having increased to a gale, and the east side towards the city, just mentioned, being inaccessible on account of the shoals that lined it. the violence of the wind forced the boat aground upon a shallow, at the entrance of a canal here, the only one i had seen for a month. after toiling for an hour, the boatmen at length succeeded in getting the boat water-borne. about an hour after noon the wind abated and the boat proceeded on her way under her foresail only. we went at a great rate till an hour before sunset, when we put to shore on the east bank of the river. the people informed us that we had passed dongola, and, from their description of that place, we were convinced that the city we had seen this morning, upon the eminence on the east bank of the river, must have been the place we were bound to. the people said that all the boats that preceded us had followed the march of the army of the pasha, who was encamped, they reported, at two days' distance from this place. we therefore determined to proceed to join him, and not to return to dongola, where it was probable we should only receive directions to proceed to the pasha. the country we saw to-day was not so uniformly fertile as that we have passed for several days past. sand was in some places visible. st of rebi. made great way to-day, the wind being very strong till sunset. we landed at evening on a large and fertile island which was well cultivated. i observed here, at a considerable distance from the place where we landed, a large and lofty column, situated, as i then supposed, on the main land, on the eastern bank of the river.[ ] the country we passed to-day, for about ten miles on the eastern bank of the river, is mostly covered by sand; that on the western bank is beautiful. during the whole of the afternoon, however, the country we passed, on both banks, can be surpassed by none in the world for fertility; the appearance of numerous water-wheels and large plantations of durra and cotton, showed us that this fine territory was improved by a considerable population. the face of the country continues still the same, an immense and fertile plain, bounded by the horizon and intersected by the windings of the river nile. we have seen no considerable eminence for many days, except that on which stands the old city of dongola, which we passed yesterday; it is a fine military position. d of rebi. the wind to-day was right ahead, owing to the curious fact that the river here makes an eccentric bend to the left, toward the north-east, and presents itself as coming from that quarter instead of from the south or south-west, as usual hitherto.[ ] the rais attempted to advance by cordelling the boat; but the force of the wind and current prevented the boatmen from gaining more than two or three miles along the coast of the island, where we landed yesterday. we were therefore obliged to pass a great part of this day and all night by the shore. the island is about twenty miles long and very beautiful; it is called, as i have been repeatedly informed, "argo." d of rebi. we were obliged still to continue fast by the shore till noon, when the wind abating, the boat advanced about two miles by the help of the cordel, so far as to arrive at a small bend in the river, which brought the wind a little in our favor, so as to pass by its aid to the other side, in the hope, if the wind continued the same on the morrow, to profit by it and proceed. we arrived a little before sun set, and remained there for the night. we saw this day, while the boat was warping slowly along the left bank of the river, the ruins of a considerable fortified town, built of stone and encompassed by large cemeteries. some large columns, of a beautiful stone, white intermixed red, are to be seen among the ruins. one of the cemeteries is evidently ancient, as the tombs are covered with hieroglyphics, intermixed with inscriptions. in one of the tombs one of our party found the remains of a mummy. th of rebi. made but little progress to-day, on account of the irregularity in the river already mentioned, which makes its course hereabouts almost the direct contrary to its natural direction, and brings, in consequence, the prevalent winds ahead. passed some small, but fine islands, and saw, for the first time for several days, stone mountains in the distance: the shores of the river hereabouts are fertile, but thinly inhabited. saw several large villages in ruins. th of rebi. the wind and the untoward direction of the river obliged us again to employ the cordel to forward the boat a few miles more on her way. by the middle of the afternoon we had arrived at a place on the left [ ] bank of the river that had been, a few days ago, the scene of a battle between the pasha and the brigands of shageia. we found there a strong and well built castle at the farther extremity of a high and long mountain, running nearly at right angles with the river, and which approached to within a few hundred yards of its bank; thus furnishing a fine position to the enemy. the castle was taken by the aid of the pasha's artillery, and his cavalry rode through and dispersed all who fought outside of it.[ ] this castle was astonishingly welt arranged in its interior, and was thereby rendered very comfortable quarters for a considerable garrison. the country, in the vicinity, contains many villages, and was covered with plantations of durra beans and fields of cotton. these villages had been ransacked, and in part destroyed, by the victorious troops, as the inhabitants, instead of coming in to the pasha, as did the people of the lower countries, had taken up arms and sided with the brigands who lorded it over the country. we learned, however, that they did this much against their will, being compelled thereto by their marauding masters. i was informed today that some english travelers were in one of the boats ahead. i determined, in case the wind should continue unfavorable tomorrow, to walk up the river and pay them a visit. th of rebi. set out very early in the morning, it being dead calm, and the boat in consequence unable to proceed, except by the cordel, to see the strangers, and to be informed of their accommodations, as i feared that they too were obliged to participate in the privations to which we were all exposed. after about two hours walk at length came up with the boat, on board of which these gentlemen were. they informed me that they had set out from cairo a few days after we had quitted bulac. they were suffering privations, as were all in the boats, and i regretted that my being in similar circumstances put it out of my power to ameliorate their situation. as, however, we had now learned to a certainty, that the camp of the pasha was not far distant, it was in my power to assure them that they would be better off in a day or two.[ ] all the way to their boat, and on my return to ours, i observed some hundreds of bodies of men and animals that had perished in the late engagement and during the pursuit, and the stench which filled the air was almost intolerable. the country, covered with an abundance of grain almost matured, was abandoned; the water-wheels stood still, and the cisterns were frequently infected by a bloody and putrefying carcass. th of rebi. passed the last night on board the boat, near the mountain already mentioned in the day before yesterday's journal. two greeks on board of our boat reported last evening, that they had heard menacing cries from the mountain. the people on board of the boat supposed that some of the brigands had returned to their haunt and meditated an attack on our boat by night. we were accordingly on the watch till morning, without, however, being molested. this morning, about two hours after sunrise, these same greeks reported that they had seen fifteen or sixteen of the robbers in a body, and armed. they also told the mogrebin soldiers in the other boats, which had now come up with ours, that these men had probably massacred one of the soldiers attached to me and two of my servants, as they had not been seen since morning. i accordingly set out, in company with twenty soldiers, in pursuit of the supposed assassins. we had not proceeded far when we met the persons supposed killed, on their way to our boat, safe and sound. they had seen no armed men, though they came from the direction that the greeks said the robbers had taken. i therefore returned to the boat, reflecting upon the old proverb, "a greek and a liar." the mogrebin soldiers were not, however, convinced of the falsehood of the report, and pursued their way to the mountain; they found no robbers there, but repaid themselves for the trouble they had taken, by taking possession of a young and pretty girl, which they carried to their boat as a lawful prize. after proceeding a few miles by the aid of the cordel, we put to land at sunset, near a village on the left bank of the river. we found here the ruins of a christian church, built in the style of the lower greek empire, of which one column, of red granite, of no great height, was standing, (it bore on its chapiter a cross and a star,) and was all that stood on its base; others, fallen and broken, were lying near it. the soldiers found in the villages near us several hundred women and about two hundred men; they were peasants who had taken refuge here during the battle between the brigands and the troops of the pasha. the soldiers were disposed to treat them as enemies, but they were saved from their fury by showing a paper given them by the pasha, assuring them of protection. it is the rule to give these papers to every village not hostile, to protect them from the soldiers. we remained here all night. the country of shageia, possessed by the brigands, was the best cultivated we had seen this side of assuan; the water-wheels, so far as we have passed their country, being frequently within half a stone's throw of each other. they obliged the peasants to work hard to raise food and forage to ml the magazines of their castles, which are seen here and there all over this country. th of rebi. the wind and the direction of the river continuing the same, we were obliged to advance by the cordel. the country continued fine and well cultivated, and we passed several large and beautiful islands. in walking along the shore, saw at a distance a large castle, lately occupied by the brigands; on visiting it, found it capable of accommodating at least a thousand men. the walls and towers very thick and pierced with loopholes: it had been taken by the aid of the pasha's artillery, and almost every thing combustible in it had been burned by the troops. a few miles beyond this the boat stopped for the night. th of rebi. heard this morning at day-light, with great pleasure, the report of three cannon, which indicated the proximity of the camp. we proceeded slowly by the cordel, the river obstinate in maintaining the same untoward direction, and the wind consequently adverse. the country we saw to-day, like that we have passed for the last two days, gave us continual occasion of surprise. it was better cultivated than any part of the countries south of egypt that we had seen. it was crowded with villages and covered with grain, deserted by its proprietors. in the afternoon, however, the disagreeable impression produced by seeing so fine a country without inhabitants was almost obliterated by the pleasure i felt on being informed that a large number of its cultivators, with their wives and children, were on their return to their fields and houses, provided with an escort from the camp, and a firman from the pasha ismael, securing them from outrage, and assuring them of protection. i am sorry to be obliged to say, that the inhabitants of this unfortunate district had great occasion for this protection. the soldiers in the boats were disposed to take liberties with the inhabitants, on the plea of their being the allies of the brigands. this morning, two men belonging to a village in this neighborhood, were severely beaten, and their wives or sisters violated by some soldiers belonging to the boats. this afternoon, a soldier belonging to our boat, accompanied by one of the greeks already mentioned, and the frank cook of the proto medico went to the same village, without my knowledge, to participate in this licentious amusement. they were somewhat surprised and terribly frightened on their arrival at this village, on finding themselves suddenly surrounded by about two hundred peasants armed with clubs, who fiercely demanded what they wanted, asking them if they had come, as others had before them to-day, to cudgel the men and violate the women, and ordered them to be off immediately to the boats. the luckless fornicators, confounded by this unexpected reception, were heartily glad to be allowed to sneak back to the boat in confusion and terror. on their arrival, and this affair becoming known to me, i abused them with all the eloquence i could muster, first, for their villainy, and then for their cowardice, as they were well armed, and had fled before the face of cudgels. when we stopped at night, we were told that we were about three hours distance from the camp. th of rebi. the river and the wind still obliged us to proceed slowly by the cordel. the country we passed to-day was fine, and had been cultivated with great care, but deserted. the face of the fields was almost covered with the household furniture of the villagers. straw mats, equal to any sold at cairo, were abandoned by hundreds on the spots where they had been employed for the night by the troops, when on the pursuit after the brigands who had fled from the last battle. many of the largest of these mats the soldiers had formed into square huts for the different guards. the abandoned harvests waved solitary in the wind, and the numerous water-wheels were all motionless. we passed several large castles, not many days back garrisoned by fierce marauders, who claimed all around them, or within the reach of their horses' feet, as theirs; and many well built villages, whose inhabitants were the slaves of their will. in one of these deserted castles, we found fragments of vessels of porcelain, basins of marble, chests of polished indian wood, the pillage probably of some caravan, and a small brass cannon. the walls of the apartments were hung with large and colored straw mats, of fine workmanship, and showed many indications of the pains taken to make them comfortable and convenient. an hour after noon, we met great numbers of men, women, and children, accompanied by their herds and flocks, who were returning to this abandoned country, by the encouragement and under the protection of the pasha. it was an affecting sight to see almost every one of these unfortunate women carrying her naked and forlorn children either upon her shoulders or in her arms, or leading them by the hand. the pleasure i felt at seeing these proofs of the humanity of the pasha ismael was diminished by seeing his safe-conduct disregarded by some of the mogrebin soldiers, and particularly by the greek and frank domestics of the proto medico bosari, who seized from the hands of these miserable creatures as many sheep and goats as they thought they had occasion for. about an hour before sunset, we passed the encampment of abdin cacheff, on the right or opposite bank of the river; and at night-fall came in view of that of the pasha about three miles farther up on the same side. we stopped to pass the night, as the boatmen were too much fatigued to draw the boat any farther to-day. th of rebi. the direction of the river and the wind still the same. proceeded slowly by the cordel till about two hours after noon, when we arrived at the camp of the hasnardar on the left bank of the river; that of the pasha was on the opposite side. not far from the camp of the hasnardar, some ruins and several small pyramids attracted my attention. as i could not go to the pasha before to-morrow, i determined to employ the remainder of the day in a visit to these antiquities, which lay near a large high and isolated rock, about a mile distant from the river. i found before this rock the ruins of a very large temple, which covered a great space of ground. some columns, almost consumed by time, were standing nearly buried in the rubbish. the bases of others were visible, which, from their position, evidently once supported an avenue of pillars leading to an excavation in the great rock aforementioned, against and joining on to the side of which, that fronted towards the river, this temple appeared to have been constructed. among the ruins saw two large lions of red granite, one broken, and the other little injured, and a small headless statue, about two feet high, in a sitting posture. on approaching the front of the rock, found it excavated into a small temple, whose interior was sculptured with the usual figures and symbols seen in the temples of ancient egypt. its roof, and that of the porch before it, exhibited several traces of the azure with which it had been painted. the porch before this excavation was supported by caryatid figures, representing huge lions standing nearly erect upon their hinder legs. the ruins before the rock seemed to me to have originally composed a large temple, of which this excavation was the inner sanctuary. the pyramids were close by these ruins. i counted seventeen, some of them in ruins, and others perfect. those which were uninjured were small, of a height greater than the breadth of the base, which was generally about twenty feet square; the sides resembled steep stairs. they were however compactly and very handsomely constructed of hewn stones, similar to the rock before mentioned, and probably taken from it. before some of these pyramids, and attached to one of their sides, we found low buildings, resembling small temples, and, judging from the interior of one we found open, intended as such, as the inside of this one was covered with the usual hieroglyphics and figures. it would be a work of little difficulty to open the pyramid to which was attached the little temple i entered, as the figure of a door of stone in the pyramid is to be seen, when inside of the temple, attached to its side. in view from this place, many other pyramids were in view higher up the river, on the opposite bank, one of them large. the people of the country called the place i visited, "meroe" as likewise the whole territory where these ruins are found. the ruins i have mentioned do not appear ever to have been disturbed. i doubt not that several remains worth research lie concealed under the rubbish, which here covers a great space of ground. no other remains of antiquity are visible in this place besides those i have mentioned. the immediate spot where they stand, and its vicinity backward from the river, is covered by the sand of the desert, underneath which probably many more lie concealed. the river nile has been represented, and i think with justice, as one of the wonders of the world. i do not consider it as meriting this appellation so much on account of its periodical and regular floods, in which respect it is resembled by several other rivers, as on account of another circumstance, in which, so far as i know, it is without a parallel. the nile resembles the path of a good man in a wicked and worthless world. it runs through a desert--a dry, barren, hideous desert; on the parts of which adjoining its course it has deposited the richest soil in the world, which it continually waters and nourishes. this soil has been the source of subsistence to several powerful nations who have established and overthrown mighty kingdoms, and have originated the arts, the religion, the learning and the civilization of the greater part of the ancient world. these nations, instructors and pupils, have perished; but the remains of their stupendous labors, the pyramids and the temples of egypt, nubia, and in the countries now visited for the first time, at least for many ages, by minds capable of appreciating the peoples who erected them, are more than sufficient to excite astonishment and respect for the nations who founded them. the few in stances that i have mentioned are such as have presented themselves to my notice in sailing up the river, without my having the opportunity to scrutinize them particularly, or time or means to pursue any researches in the vicinity of those i have seen, by which doubtless many more would be discovered. some future traveler in these interesting and remote regions, who may have the power and the means to traverse at his leisure the banks and islands i have seen and admired, will, i believe, find his labors rewarded by discoveries which will interest the learned, and gratify the curious. a voyage up the nile may be considered as presenting an epitome of the moral history of man. we meet at almost every stage with the monuments of his superstition, his tyranny, or his luxury; but with few memorials of his ingenuity directed with a view to real utility. we also every where behold the traces of the vengeance of almighty justice upon his crimes. everywhere on the banks of the ancient river we behold cities, once famous for power and luxury, a desolation, and dry like a wilderness; and temples once famous, and colossal idols once feared, now prostrate and confounded with the dust of their worshippers. "the flocks lie down in the midst thereof: the cormorant and bittern lodge in the temples and palaces. their voice sings in the windows, and desolation is in the thresholds." the peoples who now occupy the territories of nations extinct or exterminated have profited neither by their history nor their fate. what was once a land occupied by nations superstitious and sensual is now inhabited by robbers and slaves. the robbers have been expelled or slain, and the oppressed peasant is emancipated by the arms of the nation who avenged the cause of heaven upon the degenerate greeks, but who nevertheless have derived neither instruction nor warning from their downfall and subjugation. the nile meantime, which has seen so many nations and generations rise and disappear, still flows and overflows, to distribute its fertilizing waters to the countries on its borders: like the good providence, which seems unwearied in trying to overcome the ingratitude of man by the favors of heaven. on my arrival at the camp, i was informed of the particulars of the progress of the victorious son of the distinguished meheromet ali from wady haifa to meroe. before his march every thing had submitted or fallen. all attempts to arrest his progress had proved as unavailing as the obstacles opposed by the savage rocks of the cataracts of the nile to the powerful course of that beneficent and fertilizing river. his excellence, as said before, set out from wady haifa on the th of zilhadge last. in ten days of forced march he arrived at new dongola. a little beyond this village, the selictar, at the head of a detachment of about four hundred men, surprised and dispersed about fifteen hundred of the enemy, taking many of their horses and camels. four days' march beyond new dongola, the pasha, at the head of the advance guard of the army, came up with the main body of the shageias and their allies, strongly posted on the side of a mountain near a village called courty, on the westerly bank of the river. the pasha at this juncture had with him but six hundred cavalry and some of the abbadies mounted on dromedaries, of whom we had about five hundred with the army, but none of his cannon. the enemy advanced to the combat with loud screams and cries, and with great fury. the abbadies could not withstand their charge, and were driven rearward. at this critical instant, his excellence gave the order, and the cavalry of the pasha charged and poured in the fire of their carabines and pistols. after a conflict of no long duration, the cavalry of the enemy fled in dismay, while those who fought on foot fell on their faces, throwing their shields over their heads to secure them from the tramp of the cavalry, and implored mercy. in consequence of the result of this affair, all the country between the place of combat and shageia, i.e. the country occupied by the castles and immediate subjects of the maleks of shageia, submitted and were pardoned. the pasha pursued his march to the province of shageia, where malek shouus, the principal among the shageia chiefs, had collected the whole force of the republic of the brigands with a determination to risk another battle. the pasha found, on his arrival, a part of their force posted on an island near the long mountain i have mentioned in my journal as having been the scene of a combat a few day? before i reached it. those of the enemy who were in the island were forthwith attacked by troops sent over in the boats which accompanied the army, and were cut to pieces or driven into the river. the army then advanced to attack the great mass of the enemy in their position on the mountain. it was a very advantageous one. the mountain runs nearly at right angles with the river, which it nearly reaches, leaving between itself and the river a tract of ground about a quarter of a mile in width, which at the time was covered with plantations of durra. the enemy were posted on the side of this mountain and among the durra in the open ground between the mountain and the river; so that their rear was secured by the mountain, and their right covered by a strong castle at the foot of its extremity lying off from the river. malek shouus, malek zibarra, and the other chiefs of shageia, and their immediate followers, composed the cavalry of the enemy. they had assembled, either by force or persuasion, all the peasantry subject to their dominion, the whole forming a mass which blackened the whole side of the mountain. their arms consisted of lances, shields and long broad swords double-edged. these wretched peasants, who were all on foot, their masters posted in front in order to receive and exhaust the fire of the pasha's troops; while shouus and the cavalry occupied the rear in order to keep the peasants to their posts, and to have the start of the pasha's cavalry in case they should find it necessary to take to flight. the pasha posted his troops parallel to the enemy, placing the greater part of the cavalry opposite the open ground between the mountain and the river, and pushing the artillery a little in advance. the enemy with loud cries and uplifted lances rushed forward. some of the peasants in advance of the others, with no other arms than lances and shields, threw themselves upon the cannon and were blown to pieces.[ ] the castle on the right of the enemy was stormed. after feeling the effects of a few rounds from the artillery, which dashed horse and man to pieces, the cavalry of the enemy fled in dismay, leaving their infantry to be rode over and shot down [ ] by our cavalry, who destroyed many hundreds of them in the battle and during the pursuit. malek shouus and his cavalry did not discontinue their flight till they reached the territory of shendi, leaving their numerous and strong castles, their dependant villages, and a rich and beautiful country, in the hands of the conqueror.[ ] on the th of rebi, i passed over to the camp of the pasha. i did not however obtain an audience of his excellence till two days after, when, being alone, he sent for me, and received me in the most nattering manner, ordering me as usual to sit in his presence. after the usual compliments, i informed his excellence that i had been much mortified and distressed, that the act of god, in depriving me of the use of my eyes a few days before his excellence left wady halfa, had prevented me from accompanying his victorious march, and participating in the exploits of his troops; so that i had not arrived till there was nothing left to do. his excellence replied that a "great deal more remained to be done, in which i should have a share." i replied with a compliment, and then demanded horses and camels for myself, and the soldiers i had brought with me; he replied "that i should have them." after some further conversation, of a confidential nature, i retired. during the nine days following, i had reason to applaud the humanity and good policy of the pasha, in offering amnesty and peace to all the brigands who should come in and surrender themselves. several of their chiefs, whom they call "maleks" accompanied by their followers, came in while the camp remained near meroe. the chiefs were presented with costly habiliments, and the written protection of his excellence, recognizing them as under his safeguard; and returned with their followers to their homes, tranquillized and contented. the most rigid discipline was observed in the camp, to prevent the people of the country from suffering by the presence of the army. some soldiers and domestics were severely beaten for taking sheep and goats without paying for them, and five of the abbadies (or auxiliaries mounted on dromedaries) were impaled for having seized some camels from the peasants. it was truly honorable to the army and its commander to see villages embosomed in a camp, whose inhabitants, men, women and children, pursued their usual occupations, without molestation and without fear. in the country below, which had been the scene of combat, the fields were deserted, and for several days i had not seen a peasant at work upon the ground. in the vicinity of the camp of the pasha, where the people had submitted themselves, the discordant creak of the water-wheels frequently attracted the ear, and the peasants cultivated their fields within musket shot of the camp of a conqueror. on the st of rebi, a detachment, consisting of three hundred cavalry, departed from the camp for the country of the berbers, to secure its submission and to obtain horses and camels for the army. learning that it was the intention of the pasha to march in a few days, to pitch his camp about eight hours march farther up the river, i wished to ascertain whether i could have the horses and camels i needed before the pasha marched. his reply to my demand was, that he had no camels, at present, that were not appropriated to some service or other, but that, as soon as he had them, i should receive what i needed. i was consequently obliged to embark in a boat to accompany the march of the camp as, without camels to carry my tent and baggage, i could not accompany it by land. on the th, all the boats followed the departure of the troops; the wind was ahead, and the direction of the river the same as repeatedly before mentioned. we proceeded slowly by the cordel. this circumstance gave me an opportunity of visiting the pyramids which i have mentioned as in view from meroe. they stand about half a mile from the right hand bank of the river. i counted twenty-seven, none of them perfect, and most of them in ruins; the greater part of them are built of stone, and are evidently much more ancient than those of meroe. the largest is probably more than a hundred feet square, and something more in height. it presents a singularity in its construction worthy of notice. it is a pyramid within a pyramid; i.e. the inner pyramid has been cased over by a larger one; one of its sides being in ruins makes this peculiarity visible. by climbing up the ruined side, it is easy to reach its summit. no remains of a city or any traces of temples are visible in the immediate vicinity of this place, which is called by the natives "turboot." on the d we came in view of the lower end of the rapids of the third cataract; those hereabouts are called "the rapids of oula" we were obliged to consume thirty-nine days in getting as far as the island of kendi, (which is not above fifty miles from meroe.) as the direction of the river continued almost the same, coming from about the north-east, and the wind being almost invariably ahead, the difficulties attending advancing the boats by the cordel were very great, as the river here is spotted by an infinity of islands and rocks. in some of the passages where the water was deep, the current was as swift as a mill-sluice, which made it necessary to employ the crews of perhaps twenty boats to drag up one at a time. in other passages, where the water was very shallow, it was sometimes necessary to drag the boats by main force over the stones at the bottom. the camp of the pasha remained during all this time about eight hours march above meroe, on the right bank of the river, waiting till the boats should have passed the rapids. no military movements took place, except detaching the divan effendi with four hundred cavalry, to join the detachment already in berber, where all was quiet and friendly. the country on the rapids of the third cataract is sterile, being composed, for the most part, of black granite and sand, excepting some of the islands, which contained good ground, and a few spots on the shores, where the floods of the river had deposited some fertile soil. the rocks by the shore presented indications which proved that the river had risen in some of its floods about twenty feet above its present level. ostriches are not unfrequently seen hereabouts. we have met with no ruins of any ancient building of consequence on these rapids, except the ruins of a strong fort on the right bank of the river, and those of what was probably a christian monastery on the bank right opposite. this place, i was told, is called "kennis;" it is about thirty miles above meroe.[ ] we passed one small island, which the natives said was called also meroe, as well as the site where we found the pyramids and temple below. no indications of a considerable city are however to be found on this island, which is beside too small to have served for the emplacement of a city of consequence. khalil aga, who swam over to this island, reported that he had seen there the ruins of brick houses, and many fragments of porcelain; of the latter there are immense quantities among all the ruined edifices found in this country.[ ] the island of "kendi" is large, and in some parts cultivated; it contains evident traces of brick buildings, among which we found fragments of ancient pottery and porcelain, but no ruins of any considerable building. we stayed for three days as high up as the middle of the island of kendi. on the th of jamisalawal the boats received orders to descend to the lower end of the island, in order to take the passage on its right hand side, that on the left being so shallow as not to be passed but with great difficulty. we descended accordingly, and remained at its lower extremity till the thirteenth of the moon, which delay was occasioned by the absence of the rais bashi, who had gone up to examine and sound the passages through the remainder of the third cataract. on the thirteenth, our boat and many others passed over to the right bank of the river, in order to be on the same side as was the camp of the pasha,[ ] and to have free communication with it. the same day i received an order from the pasha to come to the camp with my baggage. i went accordingly and presented myself to his excellency, and demanded to know his pleasure. he replied, that it was his will that i should stay in the camp, and that he would immediately furnish me with the means of accompanying him in his intended march to berber over the desert. five days after, his excellency broke up his camp, and proceeded about four leagues higher up the rapids, where the boats were found stopped by the impossibility of proceeding any farther, as the water was found to be too low to admit their passing. i arrived at this place (opposite the upper end of the island of kendi) on the same day with his excellency, having left orders to my domestics to follow with my camels and baggage. the next morning, finding that they had not arrived, and learning that it was the intention of the pasha to commence his march to berber that day, i mounted my horse to go and ascertain the reason why my camels had not arrived. i learned, as i proceeded, that one of them had fallen under his load, and that it would be necessary to send back the first that should arrive and be unloaded, to take the burden of the other. all my effects, inconsequence, did not arrive before evening. during my absence to see after this vexatious affair, the pasha had departed with the camp, as i learned the same evening on my return. after leaving the most bulky part of my baggage in one of the boats, i proceeded on the st to the place where the pasha's last camp had been, to join some party who should have been delayed by circumstances similar to my misadventure. on my arrival i found the hasna katib, and about three hundred soldiers, waiting till camels should come from berber to carry them to join the pasha. there were, besides, seven hundred mogrebin infantry in the boats, awaiting the means of transporting their tents and baggage across the desert. on my representing to the hasna katib the circumstance that had delayed me, he informed me that the selictar was expected from below in a few days, who, on the day after his arrival, would proceed after the pasha, and that i had better accompany him. i accepted the advice, and pitched my tent to await the arrival of the selictar. the same day i was informed that all the large boats had received orders to abandon the attempt to pass the remainder of the third cataract of the nile. they had already, with great difficulty, got through about fifty difficult passages, and it was reported that there were nearly one hundred more ahead before the third cataract could be got clear of. when the river is full, and the flood, of course, strong, this cataract must, in my opinion, be almost impassable upwards, as, on account of the strange direction of the river, little or no aid can be derived from the wind, and the current in some places, from the straitness of the passages between the rocks and islands, must, in the time of the inundation, be very furious, while the cordel, from the natural obstacles which cover the shore of this cataract, could hardly overcome the difficulties which every mile or two would present.[ ] on the first day of the moon jamisalachar, the selictar arrived from below, where he had been to collect durra for the army. two days after i set forward in company with him to pass the desert. the road for two days lay near the bank of the river. by the middle of the afternoon of the first day we arrived at a pleasant spot on the border of the nile, where we encamped to pass the night. on the morning following we mounted our horses at sunrise, and by mid-day arrived at a fine pond of water at the foot of a high rock, at no great distance from the river, where we refreshed ourselves and filled the water-skins, as at this place the roads turns into the desert. we marched from the middle of the afternoon till an hour after midnight, when we halted to sleep. the road for this day was evidently the dry bed of an arm of the nile, which, during the inundation, is full of water. even at this season the doum tree and the acacia, which grew on its borders, were green, and coarse long grass was abundant. at sunrise of the sixth day of the moon we again mounted, and set forward in a direction nearly east. our way lay over low rocky hills, gravelly or sandy plains, and sometimes through valleys containing plenty of coarse grass and acacia trees; but no water is to be found above ground at this season, though it probably might be obtained by sinking wells in some of these valleys. we halted at noon, and in two hours after again mounted, and marched till midnight. our road lay through a country resembling that we had passed the day before. on the morrow morning, a little after day-light, we proceeded on our journey, and at noon halted at the only well of water we found on our route. it lies near two high hills of black granite. the water was yellow and dirty, and was almost rejected by the thirsty camels. by the middle of the afternoon we were again on horseback, and marched till midnight, when some of the camels dropping and dying, and others giving out, the selictar found himself obliged to order a halt for the rest of the night. it was his intention to have marched till morning, by which time our guides told us that we should arrive at the river. we threw ourselves on the ground to sleep a few hours, but by sunrise we were called to mount and away. we proceeded till about noon, when we came in view of the beneficent river, whose beauty and value cannot be duly appreciated by any who have not voyaged in the deserts through which it holds its course. it was on the eighth of the moon when we arrived on its borders. i had expected that our toilsome forced march would end here, and had promised myself some repose, which i greatly needed, as i had suffered much from the heat of the sun, which had burned the skin off my face;--from fatigue and want of sleep;--from hunger, as we had barely time to prepare a little rice and bread once in twenty-four hours;--and from the exasperation of my ophthalmia, which had never entirely quitted me since i was attacked by it at wady halfa, on the second cataract. the selictar, however, did not indulge us with more than half a day's and one night's repose on the bank of the river, which we found well cultivated by the inhabitants of numerous villages in sight. on the morning of the ninth day of the moon, we were again called to proceed. for this day our march lay near the bank of the river, and through and by fine fields of barley, cotton, and wheat. the day after, our route lay over a narrow space of rocky land, lying between the river and the hills of the desert. we saw this day but a few cultivated spots. on the th we commenced our march before sunrise, animated by the information that we should be at the pasha's camp by noon or the middle of the afternoon. our road lay this day on the edge of the desert, just where it touches the cultivable soil deposited by the nile, which is indicative of the point to which the inundations of the river extend in this country. on both sides of tills road was an almost continued succession of villages, which are built here in order to be out of the reach of the overflowing of the river, which almost every year here overspreads the country for one or two miles from its banks. the land liable to this inundation is in part cultivated as well as any portion of egypt, and in part devoted to feeding great numbers of fine horses, camels, dromedaries, kine, sheep, and goats, with which the country of the berbers is abundantly stocked. we marched on till nearly set of sun, without halting, when we arrived at the encampment of the pasha; it was on our side [i.e. the west side] of the nile, which here runs in its natural direction from south to north. at five or six days march below it, it turns to the left, and describes, from above its turning point and dongola, a track something resembling the following figure--which is the reason why, in coming up the river from dongola, we found it running from the north-east. the length of this curious bend in the river nile, never known to the civilized world before the expedition of ismael pasha, may be about two hundred and fifty miles long, the greater part of it all rocks and rapids. the journey from our last encampment on the third cataract to the country of the berbers, following the direction of the river, takes eight days of forced marches, but that by the desert, i.e. across the peninsula formed by the course of the river between the country of the berbers and our last encampment, takes four days forced march. the road from the place where we arrived at the river (in coming from the desert) up the country of berber, lies generally on the edge of the desert, and outside of the fertile land lying between the river and the desert; of consequence we were rarely led to its banks so as to ascertain its course and appearance. but from several points where the road approaches the river, i observed that it winded continually and contained many beautiful islands, some of them, particularly that named "sibne," cultivated like gardens. i also observed that the river, at the lower extremity of the country of the berbers, is much interrupted by rocks, and i have learned, since my arrival, that between the third cataract and the camp, the water is so low at this season that the canja of the pasha (probably the first boat that ever passed the third cataract of the nile) was obliged to be lifted three times over shallow passages. the natives of this country had never seen a sail boat before the arrival of this canja. they called it "a water mare" comparing it, by this appellation, to the swiftest animal with which they are acquainted. they ran in, crowds to the river's edge to see it mount the current without the aid of oars. on the th, i had a private audience of the pasha in the evening. his excellence received me as usual, and on my informing him of the circumstance which had prevented my accompanying his march from the cataract, he assured me that he would give orders, that, for the future, i should be furnished from the best of his own camels. i preferred to his excellence some requests, which he granted immediately, and on my retiring, requested me to present myself to him frequently. previous to his march from the third cataract, there had arrived at the camp ambassadors from shendi, from malek shouus, the chief of the fugitive shageians, demanding terms of peace. the pasha replied, that "the only terms on which they could obtain peace with him, would be by the surrender of their horses and arms, and returning to their country to live tranquilly, and without disturbing their neighbors." the ambassadors replied, that "they would not give up their horses and arms." the pasha then answered, that "then he would come to shendi and take them." to which it is said they answered, "come."[ ] on hearing, however, of the rapid march of the pasha, and of his arrival in berber, the chief of shendi, on whose support it seems shouus had calculated, was frightened, and sent his son, bearing some valuable presents, to the pasha, to notify his submission, and to receive his orders. the terror and confusion this step, on the part of one of the most powerful allies of sennaar, will occasion to the latter, will probably prevent the necessity of a battle to ensure its submission. a part of the remnant of the once powerful mamalukes of egypt, who had fled before the pasha to shendi,[ ] on his arrival in berber have surrendered themselves to the protection of the pasha ismael. they have been treated by him with great kindness, and were presented with a thousand piasters each, to bear their expenses to cairo, to which place they have departed, with the assurance of passing the remainder of their lives in tranquility in egypt, under the protection and favor of mehemmed ali. they had gone from the camp before my arrival. i was informed that these mamalukes were in possession of many slaves and fine horses, which will turn to good account in egypt. a small remnant of the mamalukes at shendi, under the direction of a refractory bey, have fled to the countries on the bahar el abiud, where they will probably perish miserably. the divan effendi, who has been sent to shendi to arrange the terms of peace with the malek of that country, had orders to assure this bey and his followers there, of the same favor and protection already accorded to their comrades, who had already departed for egypt, but without success. it is not to be doubted, however, that the remnant of the once powerful mamalukes, who have surrendered themselves to the compassion and protection of the viceroy, will receive both from him; whose humanity has been interested in their behalf since their power is gone, and their number reduced to a few individuals, who, doubtless, will be happy to live tranquilly in the country these unfortunate fugitives continually sigh after, and whose sovereignty they have lost by their own misconduct.[ ] th. i passed over in the canja of the pasha, to the east side of the river, to visit the capital of berber, which is nearly opposite to our camp. on reaching the bank, it is a walk of half an hour through immense fields of durra, to come to the road that leads to the residence of the chief. after quitting the plantations, i came to a collection of villages, extending about three miles down the river. among these villages is one called "goos" which is marked in the maps as the capital of berber; but the residence of the malek,[ ] or chief of the eastern shore, is not at goos, but at another of the collection, much larger, called nousreddin, as i was informed, after the name of the present malek, who resides there. the houses of these villages, like the rest in the country of berber, are built of clay, and roofed with unhewn timber, covered with trusses of straw; that of the malek is like those of his people, only larger. the western shore is governed by another malek, whose village lies higher up the river than the emplacement of our camp. the population of nousreddin, and the villages adjoining, is considerable. the country is fertile and well cultivated, and abounds in durra, cotton, barley, fine horses, camels, dromedaries, kine, sheep, goats and fowls, as does all the country of berber. i found in these villages some caravan merchants, who at present had nothing to sell but coarse cotton cloths. these cotton cloths form the only clothing of the inhabitants; both men and women wear them, wrapped round their middle, with one end thrown over the shoulder or head.[ ] the berber, though resembling the fellah of upper egypt in complexion, is generally not so well formed in figure and feature. many of them have defective teeth, probably occasioned by the habit of chewing bad tobacco, (of which they have plenty,) which is common here. the greater part of their household and field work is done by slaves they purchase from the caravans, coming either from abyssinia or darfour. some of the owners of female slaves would, for a dollar, without scruple, permit the soldiers of our camp to sleep with them. the women of berber, contrary to the custom in egypt, go with the face unveiled, without embarrassment. both men and women never consider themselves in full dress, unless the hair of the head has been combed sleek, then braided and platted together, and afterwards plentifully anointed with butter. they never cut the hair, i believe; it consequently forms an immense bunch behind the head, similar to that observable in some of the ancient statues of egypt.[ ] the barbarous practice of excision is universally performed upon all their females, whether free or slaves; as is the case also among all the tribes inhabiting the banks of the nile above assuan. the people of berber are, in their exterior deportment, mild and polite. every man we meet, uniformly gives us the greeting of peace, "salaam aleikoum," and uniformly shows a disposition to accommodate us in every thing reasonable. this is probably owing to their being, in a very considerable degree, a commercial people; berber being every year visited and traversed by numerous caravans from abyssinia, sennaar, darfour, and kordofan. d of jamisalachar. this day arrived the divan effendi, from shendi, accompanied by the malek of that province, and the son of malek shouus, the chief of the fugitive shageias. the malek of shendi was accompanied by a considerable suite, and two most beautiful horses, intended as a present to the pasha.[ ] on being introduced to his excellence, he kissed his hand, and pressed it to his forehead, and told him that he had come to surrender himself and his country to his favor and protection. his excellence received him graciously, presented him with splendid habiliments, and a horse richly caparisoned. after his presentation was finished, he was conducted to the tent of the hasnardar, who was directed by the pasha to treat him with due hospitality. the son of malek shouus came in behalf of his father, and other distinguished chiefs of the shageias, to implore the mercy of the pasha for these chiefs and the fugitive remnant of their followers, who were opposite shendi, awaiting the decision of the pasha, as to what was to be their fate. i was told that the determination of the pasha continued in their regard the same, making the surrender of their arms and horses the sine qua non of peace between him and them. three days after, the chief of shendi returned home the friend of the pasha. on the th of the moon, i passed over to the eastern side of the river, to purchase camels; as there were many buyers at this time from our camp, i did not find any good enough for the exorbitant price demanded. i passed the greater part of the day, and the night following, at the town of nousreddin, in the house of one of the principal chiefs of the berbers. he bears the title of malek, as do all the distinguished chiefs of berber, shageia, and dongola. their dignity is hereditary, generally passing from father to son. i have noticed that the families of the maleks exceed the common people in respect of stature and stoutness. the malek, in whose house i lodged, a man about years of age, was near seven feet high, and very stout. his eldest son, a young man about years of age, was about feet inches in stature, stout and well proportioned. i imagine, that this superiority in size is owing to the circumstance that they eat well and heartily, and have no work to do beside seeing that others work for them. the family of this malek carried their hospitality towards me to a very extraordinary length for people professing islam. i was offered, by the mother and mistress of the house, my choice of two of her daughters for a bedfellow. they were both young, and the handsomest women i have seen in berber, but married to husbands whose houses were at the other end of the town. when i understood this circumstance, i told the mother, that a genuine mussulman ought to regard lying with his neighbor's wife as a crime almost as bad as murdering him in his bed.[ ] i am sorry to be obliged to say, that though the berbers are a quiet and industrious people, very civil and disposed to oblige all for whom they have any regard, yet, with respect to their women, they appear to be unconscious that their conduct is quite irreconcilable with the precepts of the koran, and the customs of their co-religionists. they suffer them to go about with the face exposed--to converse with the other sex in the roads, the streets, and the fields; and if the women are accustomed to grant their favors to their countrymen, as liberally and as frequently as they did to our soldiers, i should imagine that it must be more than commonly difficult, in this country, for a man to know his own father.[ ] on my return to camp, i was amused on the way by a dispute in connection with this subject, between the malek i have mentioned and a soldier; it happened in the boat that brought me back to camp. the boat was heavily laden, and this gigantic malek was stepping into it, when the soldier i have mentioned intimated a determination to exclude him, calling him by several opprobrious names, and among other terms, "a pimp." upon this, i checked the soldier, telling him that this man was a considerable personage in his country, and extremely hospitable to the osmanlis. this mollified the soldier, and the malek took a place as well as he could. the malek then addressed the soldier in a mild manner, and asked him why he had bestowed such appellations upon one who was a mussulman, as well as himself. the soldier positively refused to allow the malek's claims to this honorable appellation. the chief demanded upon what grounds the soldier denied it: "because," said the soldier, "the women of your country are all whores, and the men all get drunk with bouza, araky, and other forbidden liquors, which you make out of durra and dates;" and turning to me, he demanded "whether he was not right?" the poor chief appeared to be much vexed that he was unable to reply to this accusation, and remained silent. the soldier, not content with humbling the unlucky malek, pursued his advantage without mercy. "come," said he to the chief, "i do not believe that you know any thing about your religion, and i will soon make you sensible of it" he then asked the chief how many prophets had preceded mohammed? if he knew any thing about the history of dhulkamein and gog and magog? and many others of a similar tenor: how to answer which the unfortunate malek was obliged to own his ignorance. the soldier then told him that "the commander of the faithful,"[ ] the chief of the mussulmans, had authorized his vizier, the pasha mehemmed ali, to set the people on the upper parts of the nile to rights, and that now the osmanlis were come among them they would probably learn how to behave themselves. the malek might, however, have had his revenge upon the edifying soldier, had he known as well as i did that he had gone over to the town of nousreddin expressly to amuse himself with the women of the country, and had doubtless paid as much attention to the bouza as the most sturdy toper in berber. the country of the berbers, after the best in formation i have been able to obtain, is small, not extending, from the upper end of the third cataract, more than eight days march in length on both sides of the nile. the bahar el uswood, or black river, bounds it (i.e. on the eastern bank) on the south, and separates it from the territory of shendi. the cultivable land reaches generally to the distance of one or two miles from the river. it is overflowed generally at the inundation, and its produce is very abundant, consisting in durra, wheat, barley, beans, cotton, a small grain called "duchan," tobacco, and some garden vegetables similar to those of egypt. berber also raises great numbers of horned cattle, sheep, goats, camels, asses, and very fine horses. it is very populous, the succession of villages being almost continued along the road on both sides of the river. the houses are built of clay, covered with a flat roof of beams overlaid generally with straw; but the houses of the maleks have generally terraced roofs of beaten clay, this manner of building is sufficient in a country where no great quantity of rain falls throughout the year. some of the houses of the peasants are formed of trusses of cornstalks, and placed side by side in a perpendicular position, and lashed together, with roofs of the same materials. all the people sleep upon bedsteads, as they do also in dongola and shageia: these bedsteads are composed of an oblong frame of wood, standing on four short legs, the sides of the frame supporting a close network of leathern thongs, on which the person sleeps; it is elastic and comfortable. berber contains plenty of salt, which the natives find in some calcareous mountains between the desert and the fertile land. in its natural state, it is found mingled with a brown earth, with which the stone of those mountains is intermixed. this earth the natives dilute with water, which absorbs the salt and leaves the earth at the bottom; they then pour off the water into another vessel, and, by exposing it to the sun or fire, the water is evaporated and the salt remains. the assemblage of villages which compose the capital of nousreddin, contains houses enough for a population of five or six thousand souls, but i do not believe that the actual population of those villages is so great. the language is arabic, perfectly intelligible to the natives of egypt, but containing some ancient words at present disused on the lower nile; for instance, the berber calls a sheep "kebesh."[ ' as to the climate, the difference between the heat at two hours afternoon in the month of the vernal equinox, and at an hour before sunrise, has been as great as ten degrees of the thermometer of reaumur, as i have been informed by one of the medical staff attached to the army, who was in possession of that instrument. it is at present the commencement of spring, and the heat at two hours after mid-day, at least to the sense, is as great as in the month of the summer solstice, in cairo. i have seen no ferocious animals, either in berber or the country below, and believe that they are rare. th of regeb. the camp continues in berber, awaiting the arrival of the remainder of the cannon, ammunition, provisions and troops, from the boats at the cataract. the reason why these have not been transported hither before this time, is the want of camels, a large part of the camels attached to the army having perished, by reason of having been over fatigued by the pasha's forced march over the desert, and up the country of berber. a considerable number of camels have been obtained from berber and sent to the cataract, and more are expected to arrive from shendi, to which place the divan effendi has accompanied the chief of that country when he left our camp, in order to receive them. abdin cacheff departed two days past for dongola, with his division. he is charged, by mehemmed ali, with the government of the country between the second and third cataracts.[ ] twelve hundred men, under the command of ibrihim cacheff, are said to be on the way to replace the vacancy left in our camp by the departure of abdin cacheff. they are expected to arrive in a few days, if not delayed by the sickness of ibrihim cacheff, who, it is said in the camp, is dangerously ill on the road. th of regeb. this day nousreddin, the malek of berber, came to kiss the hand of the pasha. he had been prevented from paying his homage to the conqueror heretofore by sickness. he brought with him, as a present to the pasha, fifty fine horses, and fifty dromedaries of prime breed. he was well received by his excellence, and his presents were returned by the pasha, by others of great value. nousreddin is a very tall and very large man, about sixty years of age. two days after, having occasion to go to the other side of the river, i found nousreddin upon the shore, awaiting the arrival of a boat to carry him and some of his chiefs over. i paid him some compliments relative to the handsome horses he had presented to the pasha, which pleased him considerably; he invited me to come to his house and partake of his hospitality. i told him, if circumstances would admit it, i would visit him in a few days. from the th of regeb to the end of the moon, nothing worth notice took place, except the successive and gradual arrival of the remainder of the cannon,[ ] ammunition, stores and troops from the cataract, which had been left there when the pasha quitted it, for want of camels to transport them. on the last day of the month, arrived the cavalry of ibrihim cacheff from egypt, consisting of four hundred excellent horsemen; one thousand infantry were yet far distant, but on their way to join us. ibrihim cacheff is at wady halfa, severely sick. on the d of the moon shaban, shortly after the hour of afternoon prayer, the signal was fired and the tents fell. we mounted our snorting horses, now lusty from long repose, and commenced our march to traverse the famous country of the ethiopian shepherds, at present subject to the malek of shendi. we arrived opposite shendi, by easy marches, in eight days, and encamped on the west side of the river, near a very large village called "shendi el garb," i.e. shendi on the west bank. our route from berber led us through a country consisting of immense plains of fertile soil, extending many miles from the river, and mostly covered with herbage; mountains or hills were rarely visible.[ ] we passed many large villages, most of which stood far off from the river, to be out of the reach of the inundation. the houses of these villages, particularly as we approached shendi, were generally built with sloping roofs of thatched straw, which indicated that this is a country visited by the rains. we hardly ever, during our march, came in view of the river, except to encamp. we found it at this season narrow and shallow, though its bed was frequently a mile and a half broad. at every halt we made, the chiefs of the country came to salute the pasha, and seemed to be well disposed towards the army, whose conduct was very exemplary. on the th of the moon, i visited the town of shendi el garb, in the rear of our camp. it is large and well built, in comparison with the other villages i have seen on the upper nile. it contains about six thousand inhabitants, and has three market places, where the people of the country exchange dollars and durra for what they have need of. our piasters they disliked, being ignorant of their value, but sometimes received them for fowls, vegetables, butter, and meat, and for durra, but for wheat they demanded dollars. on the th of the moon, i went to shendi on the east bank, which is the capital of the country. i traversed the town with some surprise; the houses are low, but well built of clay. large areas, walled in for the reception of the merchandize brought by the caravans, are to be seen in various parts of the town, which is large, containing probably five or six thousand inhabitants; the streets are wide and airy, regular market places are found there, where, beside meat, butter,[ ] grain and vegetables are also to be purchased, spices brought from jidda, gum arabic, beads, and other ornaments for the women. the people of shendi have a bad character, being both ferocious and fraudulent. great numbers of slaves of both sexes, from abyssinia and darfour, are to be found here, at a moderate price, a handsome abyssinian girl selling for about forty or fifty dollars. the chief of shendi, the same who had come to our camp in berber, has done his uttermost to promote a good disposition in his people towards the osmanlis, and has made the pasha a present of several hundreds of very fine camels, within the last two days. his house is not built of better materials than those of his people, and differs from them only in being larger. shendi stands about half a mile from the easterly bank of the river. its immediate environs are sandy; it derives its importance solely from being the rendezvous of the caravans of sennaar and the neighboring countries going to mecca or egypt. the territory belonging to the chief of shendi is said to be very large,[ ] but by no means peopled in proportion to its extent. he can, however, in conjunction with the malek of halfya, bring into the field thirty thousand horsemen, mounted on steeds probably as beautiful as any found in any country in the world. on the th of the moon, some soldiers, who went to a village in the neighborhood of the camp, to get their rations of durra from the magazine in this village, which had been formed there by its chief, for the service of the army, were insulted, maltreated, and two of them killed outright with lances, and others severely wounded by the inhabitants. on the news of this outrage reaching the camp, the soldiers took arms, and mounted, to proceed to this village, with the full determination to revenge the death of their comrades in the severest manner. in five minutes nearly all the camp was upon the march for this village, when the pasha sent orders to stop them and leave the affair to him. it was however impossible to prevent the greater part of them from proceeding to the village, which they pillaged and destroyed, sacrificing to their fury many of its inhabitants. the plunder which they brought back was however seized by the selictar, and by the pasha's orders restored to its owners. the conduct of his excellence on this occasion was highly laudable, while it must be confessed that that of the soldiers was not much to be blamed. durra--a miserable pittance of durra, scarcely sufficient to support nature, was all that was required from the people of these countries, money free; and this, in the instance mentioned, was refused by a people whose chief had already granted it--a people absolutely within our power, and who extorted from the starving soldiery enormous prices for every thing they sold us, and who frequently refused to sell us any thing at all with great ferocity and insolence. on the th of the moon, at two hours before sunset, the signal was fired, and the camp of the pasha rose to commence its march for sennaar. we marched till midnight, and reposed, as usual, on the bank of the river till about the same hour of the afternoon of the th of the moon, when we pursued our march for five hours, and halted by the river. we stayed here till the th, in the afternoon, in order to obtain three days rations for the horses from the villages in the neighborhood, which are numerous and large, as the country through which our route would lie for that time, is destitute of inhabitants and cultivation. it was on the th that malek shouus, the chief of the fugitive shageias, who had fled as the army approached up the country, came at length to the camp to surrender himself to the discretion of the pasha. he addressed the pasha, as i have been informed, as follows: "i have fought against you to the utmost of my means and power, and am now ready, if you will, to fight under the orders of my conqueror." the courage this man had shown in battle, and his firmness in adversity, had engaged the respect of the osmanlis, and he is as graciously received by the pasha, who created him a bimbashi, and received him, his companions, and followers, into his service. malek shouus is a large stout man, of a pleasing physiognomy though black, of about forty years of age, and was considered as the greatest warrior among the people of the upper nile, who all stood in awe of him.[ ] the th, th, and st of the moon, were employed in traversing the naked country before-mentioned, which is barren, rocky, and without cultivation. we marched for three days, from the middle of the afternoon till midnight. it was not till the second hour after midnight, however, of the third day, that we arrived at a country on the border of the nile, containing several villages, where we remained till the middle of the afternoon of the st. on our arrival at these villages, the darkness and severe hunger engaged several of the soldiers to take, by force, sheep and goats from the inhabitants. the officers of the pasha vigorously interposed to prevent this infraction of the orders of his excellence, and several of the guilty were severely punished for taking forbidden means to gratify the demands of nature. at the hour of afternoon prayer the signal was fired, and the camp proceeded onwards. we left the villages afore-mentioned, and passed through a sandy tract covered with bushes and the thorny acacia, which embarrassed our march, and, by occasioning several detours, caused the army to lose its way. after wandering about till midnight, the camp at length arrived on the bank of the nile. on the d, at the rising of the moon, the camp proceeded, and halted in the forenoon on the beach of the river, opposite halfya, a very large village on the easterly bank. we stayed here till the twenty-sixth to obtain durra from this territory, whose chief brought, as a present to the pasha, some fine horses and many camels, and received, in return, some valuable presents. our side of the river is desert, and covered with trees and bushes. during our stay opposite halfya, the nile, on the night of the d, rose suddenly about two feet, and inundated some parts of the sandy flats where we were encamped; the water entering the tents of several, my own among others, and wetting my bed, arms, and baggage.[ ] it had risen a little shortly after the equinox, while the army was in berber, and afterwards subsided more than it had risen. we find the sky every day more and more overcast; distant thunder and lightning, accompanied with violent squalls, (which have overset my tent twice,) are, within a few days, frequent, and drops of rain have fallen in our camp. on the th, at one hour after noon, we proceeded to the bahar el abiud, about five hours march above our present position, where the pasha intends to cross into the territory of sennaar. the camp arrived at sunset at a position a little above where the nile falls into the bahar el abiud, and stopped. immediately on my arrival, i drank of this river, being, probably, the first man of frank origin that ever tasted its waters. the nile is not half as broad as the bahar el abiud, which is, from bank to bank, one mile higher than where the nile joins it, about a mile and a quarter in breadth. it comes, as far as we can see it, from the west-south-west. the nile of bruce must, therefore, after the expedition of ismael pasha, be considered as a branch of a great and unexplored river, which may possibly be found to be connected with the niger. on the th, early in the morning, the pasha commenced transporting the army over the bahar el abiud, by means of nine small boats, which had been able to pass the third cataract, and follow the army. the country on our side of the bahar el abiud, is uncultivated, and apparently without inhabitants. the army is encamped by the side of the river, on a beautiful plain of good soil, extending a considerable distance back towards the desert. during the inundation, this plain becomes evidently an island, as there is a channel worn by water, in the rear of it, at this season dry. the tracks of the hippopotamus are found throughout this plain. by the th, in the afternoon, i.e. in two days and a half, the pasha had finished transporting into sennaar the whole of his camp, consisting of about six thousand persons, with the artillery, ammunition, tents, baggage, horses, camels, and asses, by the aid of nine boats, none of them large, an expedition, i believe, unparalleled in the annals of turkish warfare.[ ] during our stay on the other side of the bahar el abiud, it was reported in the camp that some of the mogrebin soldiers, gone out to shoot gazelles, had killed in the desert which lies off from the river, an animal, resembling a bull, except that its feet were like those of a camel. i did not see this animal, but the story was affirmed to me by several. the army, on its crossing the bahar el abiud, encamped on the point of land just below which the bahar el abiud and the nile join each other. the water of the bahar el abiud is troubled and whitish, and has a peculiar sweetish taste. the soldiers said that "the water of the bahar el abiud would not quench thirst." this notion probably arose from the circumstance that they were never tired of drinking it, it is so light and sweet. the water of the nile is at present perfectly pure and transparent, but by no means so agreeable to the palate as that of the bahar el abiud, as i experimented myself, drinking first of the bahar el abiud, and then walking about two hundred yards across the point, and drinking of the nile, the water of which appeared to me hard and tasteless in comparison. nothing of the kind could be easier than to ascend the bahar el abiud from the place where we are. a canja, well manned and armed, and accompanied by another boat containing provisions for four or six months, and both furnished with grapnels to enable them at night to anchor in the river, might, in my opinion, ascend and return securely: as the tribes on its borders have great dread of fire-arms, and will hardly dare to meddle with those who carry them. we stayed on the sennaar side of the bahar el abiud till the st of ramadan, when the army commenced its march for sennaar, the capital, proceeding by the bank of the nile.[ ] the army reached sennaar in thirteen days. the signal for striking the tents and loading the camels was generally fired about two hours after midnight. one hour was allowed for loading the baggage, when a second cannon was fired, and the march of the army commenced, and was continued each day till about two or three hours before noon, when the camp reposed till about two hours after midnight of the same day. the army suffered severely during this march; nothing was given to the troops for subsistence but durra, unground, which the soldiers were frequently in great distress to obtain the means of making into meal, in order to bake a little miserable bread, which was all they had to eat.[ ] for myself, i was reduced to great extremity. the camel, carrying my provisions and culinary utensils, and several other articles, was lost by the carelessness of a domestic. i was consequently left without any thing to eat, or the means of preparing what i might obtain. i threw myself under the hospitable shade of the tent of mr. caillaud, (then only occupied by mr. constant, his companion,) the gentleman i have mentioned in the preface with so much well merited esteem, where i stayed till my arrival at sennaar. the country we traversed is that part of the kingdom of sennaar which lies between the nile and the bahar el abiud. it is an immense and fertile plain, occupied by numerous villages, some of them very large; that of "wahat medinet," for instance, containing, probably, four or five thousand inhabitants. what country we saw was, at this season, perfectly naked of grass, consisting generally of immense fields which, in the season past, had been planted with durra. acacia trees, and bushes in the country far back from the river, (which is sandy,) were abundant, but no herbage was visible; i did not see throughout our route a single waterwheel;[ ] and i believe that the country is only cultivated when the inundation has retired. the houses of the villages are built in the following manner. a circle of stakes is planted in the ground, a conical frame of poles attached to these stakes below, and meeting and fastened at the top of the cone, forms the roof. this roof, and the sides of the house, are then covered with thatched straw, which suffices to exclude the rains. some of the houses, however, belonging to the chiefs are of a stronger fabric, being composed of thick walls made of bricks dried in the sun, and having terraced roofs. in the thatched cottages i have mentioned, the air and light come in by the doorway and four small holes pierced in the walls of the house. this scanty ventilation renders these cottages very hot and close: the difference between the temperature of an inhabited house and that of the air outside being, in my judgment, almost as great as that of the undressing room of a bath at cairo, and that of the passage just outside of the bath itself. this circumstance alone is almost sufficient to account for the great mortality in sennaar, during the rainy season, when whole families are shut up in these close cottages; and every one who goes abroad must necessarily go with his pores in a condition expressly adapted to make him catch a cold or a fever. six days before the army reached sennaar, the pasha was met by an ambassador from the sultan; he had an audience of his excellence, and returned the next day to sennaar. he was a handsome young man, accompanied by a numerous suite mounted on dromedaries. the army pursued its route, steadily marching in order of battle, the infantry in the centre, the cavalry on the wings; the artillery in advance of the centre and the baggage in the rear, with shouus' cavalry and the dromedary corps of abbadies scouring our front and flanks to a great distance. two days after it was reported in the camp that the sultan of sennaar was on his way to meet us with a strong force, preceded by numerous elephants and great herds of cattle, collected in order to receive and exhaust the fire of our troops. the pasha proceeded however steadily on with the army in order of battle, and equally prepared for peace or war. two days before the arrival of the army in sennaar, as i was riding near the topgi bashi, who was in front of the army with the artillery, i saw a great number of armed men approaching, mounted on horses and dromedaries. presently the malek of shendi (who had accompanied the pasha)[ ], rode up to the pasha and informed him that the strangers approaching were the principal officers of the sultan of sennaar, and their suite, who had come to demand terms of peace. i saw these personages when they arrived. they were two, one a tall thin elderly man of a mulatto complexion, dressed in green and yellow silks of costly fabric, with a cap of a singular form, something resembling a crown, made of the same materials, upon his head. the other was the same young man who had come a few days past to the pasha. he was dressed to-day in silks like the other, except that his head was bare of ornament. they were accompanied by a fine lad about sixteen, who was, it is said, the son of the predecessor of the present sultan. all three were mounted on tall and beautiful horses, and accompanied by about two hundred soldiers of the sultan, mounted on dromedaries, and armed with broadswords, lances and shields. when the pasha was informed of their approach by the malek of shendi, he ordered a halt. the tent of the pasha was pitched, and the ambassadors were introduced. they were treated with great attention and liberality by the pasha, who, during the day and the course of the evening following, gave them opportunities enough to be convinced of the immense superiority of our arms to theirs. during the evening, some star rockets and bombs were thrown for their amusement and edification. no language can do justice to their astonishment at the spectacle, which undoubtedly produced the effect intended by the pasha--humility and a sense of inferiority. the next morning at an early hour the army pursued its march, accompanied by the ambassadors from sennaar. about the hour of noon, the outscouts announced to the pasha that the sultan of sennaar himself was approaching to salute his excellence. on his approach, the army received him with the honors due to his rank. he was conducted to the tent of the pasha, by the ambassadors he had sent, where he remained in audience with his excellence a long time. when the audience was finished, he and the personages he had before sent to the pasha were splendidly habited in the turkish fashion, and presented with horses, furnished with saddles and bridles embroidered with gold.[ ] it was on the morning following that the army reached the capital. we marched in order of battle. the pasha, accompanied by the sultan of sennaar and his chief servants, in front. on approaching the city, the army saluted this long wished for town, where they imagined that their toils and privations would cease, at least for a time, with repeated and continued volleys of cannon and musquetry, accompanied with shouts of exultation. but these shouts subsided on a nearer approach, on finding this once powerful city of sennaar to be almost nothing but heaps of ruins, containing in some of its quarters some few hundreds of habitable but almost deserted houses. after the camp was pitched, and i had refreshed myself with a little food, i took a walk about the town. at almost every step i trod upon fragments of burnt bricks, among which are frequently to be found fragments of porcelain, and sometimes marble. the most conspicuous buildings in sennaar are a mosque, and a large brick palace adjoining it. the mosque, which is of brick, is in good preservation; its windows are covered with well wrought bronze gratings, and the doors are handsomely and curiously carved. the interior was desecrated by uncouth figures of animals, portrayed upon the walls with charcoal. this profanation had been perpetrated by the pagan mountaineers who inhabit the mountains thirteen days march south of sennaar, and who, at some period, not very long past, had taken the town, and had left upon the walls of the mosque these tokens of possession. the palace is large, but in ruins, except the centre building, which is six stories high, having five rows of windows.[ ] by mounting upon its roof you have the best possible view of the city, the river, and the environs, that the place can afford. i judged that sennaar was about three miles in circumference. the greater part of this space is now covered with the ruins of houses, built of bricks either burnt or dried in the sun. i do not believe that there are more than four hundred houses standing in sennaar and of these one-third or more are round cottages, like those of the villages. of those built of bricks, the largest is the house of the sultan. it is a large enclosure, containing ranges of low but well built habitations of sun-dried bricks, with terraced roofs, and the interior stuccoed with fine clay. what struck me the most, was the workmanship of the doors of the old houses of sennaar, which are composed of planed and jointed planks, adorned frequently with carved work, and strengthened and studded with very broad headed nails; the whole inimitable by the present population of sennaar. these houses are very rarely of more than one story in height, the roofs terraced with fine and well beaten clay spread over mats laid upon rafters, which form the roof. the city of sennaar is of an oblong form, its longest side opposite the river. it stands not at any distance from the river, but directly upon its west bank, which consists hereabouts of hard clay. the river is now rising,[ ] but exhibits itself at present to the view as narrow and winding, as far as the eye can reach, between sand flats, which will shortly be covered by its augmenting waters. the bed of the nile opposite sennaar may be reckoned at about half a mile broad. the environs of sennaar are wide plains, containing large and populous villages. a long ragged mountain, the only one visible, stands about fifteen miles to the west of the town. below the town is a small but pretty island, whose inhabitants thrive by raising vegetables for the market of sennaar; and the opposite bank of the river, presents several verdant patches of ground devoted to the same object.[ ] beyond these spots, the country on the other bank appeared to be mostly covered with trees and bushes, among which i saw four elephants feeding. i could not find any remains of any very ancient building in sennaar during my stay, and i believe that none exists there. such is the present appearance of a town which has evidently been once rich, comfortable and nourishing, but which, for eighteen years past, as i have been informed, has been the lacerated prey of war and confusion. on the day after our arrival the conditions of the accord between the pasha and the sultan of sennaar were arranged and sealed; by which the latter recognized himself as subject and feudatory of the grand seignor, and surrendered his dominions to the supremacy and sway of the vizier of the padischah, mehemmed ali pasha. the next day the tchocadar aga of his highness the viceroy of egypt, who had arrived in our camp two months past, embarked in the canja of the pasha ismael to carry the documents of this important transaction to cairo. for several days after our arrival at sennaar, our camp was incommoded by furious squalls of wind, accompanied with thunder, lightning, and torrents of rain. the pasha therefore determined to caserne the troops in the houses of the town, and to stay there during the rainy season. in ten days after our arrival, the army was distributed throughout the town and in the villages on the opposite bank of the river. the pasha himself took up his quarters in a large house of the sultan of sennaar, which had been prepared for his accommodation. a few days after our arrival, a slave informed the pasha that the sultan of sennaar, before our arrival, had thrown into the river some cannon. the pasha ordered search to be made; four iron guns were discovered by divers, and were dragged on shore. they appeared to me to be ordinary ship guns; no mark or inscription was found on them to enable me to judge where they were fabricated. i believe them however to have been originally obtained of the portuguese by the abyssinians, from whom the people said the sultan of sennaar had taken them in some ancient war between the two kingdoms. on the th of ramadan, a party of bedouins were ordered by the pasha to go in pursuit of some hundred black slaves of the sultan of sennaar, who some time before our arrival had run away, taking with them some of his best horses. on the d they returned, bringing with them between five and six hundred negroes of both sexes. but on malek shouus going to the pasha and representing to him that these people were not the fugitives in question, the pasha ordered them to be immediately released and to return to their respective villages. about the same time the pasha detached cogia achmet with thirteen hundred cavalry and three pieces of artillery to the upper country of sennaar between the bahar el abiud and the nile to secure its submission.[ ] and on the th of the moon the divan effendi was sent with three hundred men across the nile, to secure that part of the kingdom of sennaar which lies on the east side of the nile.[ ] seven days after our arrival in sennaar i put in execution a resolution the state of my health obliged me to determine on, and demanded of the pasha permission to return to cairo. i represented to him, that all the critical operations of the campaign were now happily concluded, and crowned with the fullest success; and that, therefore, he could have no particular need of me any longer. i stated to him that repeated sickness during the campaign had rendered my health very infirm, and that a residence of four months at sennaar, during the rainy season, would probably destroy me; and as my presence for that time at least could be no ways necessary, i requested him to grant the permission demanded, telling him that if, after the rainy season was finished, he should think proper to recall me to camp that i would obey the summons. the pasha hesitated, and for several days declined granting my request; but on its being represented to him that the reasons i had stated were really just and sufficient causes for my return, his excellence finally told me, that on the return of cogia achmet he should dispatch a courier to cairo, and that i should accompany him. on the third day of the feast of bairam i saw the sultan of sennaar parade the town in great ceremony. he was mounted on a superb horse, and clothed in green and yellow silks, but his head was bare of every thing but its natural wool. over his head an officer carried a large umbrella of green and yellow silks in alternate stripes. he was accompanied by the officers of his palace, and his guard, beautifully mounted, and followed by the native population of sennaar, both men and women, who uttered shrill cries, which were now and then interrupted by the sound of a most lugubrious trumpet which preceded the sultan, and which was blown by a musician who, judging from the tones he produced, seemed to be afflicted with a bad cough. on the th of the moon shawal, the divan effendi returned to sennaar, having crushed all attempts to oppose the establishment of the pasha's authority in the eastern part of the kingdom of sennaar, and bringing with him three of the chiefs of the refractory, and three hundred and fifty prisoners, as slaves. the events of this expedition were related to me as follows: "we marched without resistance for eight days, in the direction of the rising sun, through a country fine, fertile, and crowded with villages, till we came to some larger villages near a mountain called 'catta,' where we found four or five hundred men posted in front of them to resist our march they were armed with lances, and presented themselves to the combat with great resolution. but on experiencing the effects of our fire-arms, they took to flight toward the mountain; two hundred of them were hemmed in, and cut to pieces, and three of their chiefs were taken prisoners, as well as all the inhabitants we could find in their villages; after which we returned." on my demanding if water was plentiful at a distance from the river, my informant replied, that "there were wells in abundance in all the numerous villages, with which the country abounds; and also numerous rivulets and streams, which at this season descend from the mountains. the troops, he said, had forded two small rivers (probably the ratt and the dandar); he added, that the country abounded in beautiful birds and insects, one of the latter he brought with him; it was a small scarabeus, covered with a fine close crimson down, exactly resembling scarlet velvet. the people of the country he described as very harmless, and exceedingly anxious to know what had brought us to sennaar to trouble them." two of these chiefs taken prisoners the pasha ordered to be impaled in the market-place of sennaar. they suffered this horrid death with great firmness. one of them said nothing but "there is no god but god, and mohammed is his apostle," which he frequently repeated before impalement; while the other, named abdallah, insulted, defied, and cursed his executioners, calling them "robbers and murderers," till too weak to speak, when he expressed his feelings by spitting at them.[ ] the third chief was detained prisoner, in order to be sent to cairo. during my stay in sennaar, i endeavored to get information of the people of the country, and of the few caravan merchants found in the market-place of sennaar, relative to the bahar el abiud and the nile. the information i received was as follows: "the source of the adit (so the people of sennaar call the river that runs by their city) is in the gibel el gumara, (i.e. that great range of mountains called the mountains of the moon,) about sixty days march of a camel from sennaar. in a direction nearly south. it receives, at various distances above sennaar, several smaller rivers which come from abyssinia and from the mountains south of sennaar. the general course of the bahar el abiud (they said) was nearly parallel with that of the adit, but its source was much farther off, among the gibel el gumara, than that of the adit. the bahar el abiud, they said, appears very large at the place where the pasha's army crossed it, because it is augmented from the junction of three other rivers, one from the south-west, and two others from the east, running from the mountains south of sennaar."[ ] on my asking them, "whether the bahar el abiud was open and free of shellals or rapids?" they said, "that at a place called sulluk, about fifteen days march above its junction with the adit, (i.e. above the place where we crossed the bahar el abiud,) there was a shellal, which they believed that boats could not pass.[ ] on my asking whether, by following the banks of the bahar el abiud and the river that empties into it from the west, it was not possible to reach a city called tombut or tombuctoo?" they said, that "they knew nothing of the city i mentioned, having never been farther west than kordofan and darfour." this was all i could learn: but i am disposed to believe, that the main stream of the bahar el abiud cannot have its source in the same latitude with that of the adit, because it commenced its rise, at least, this year, about twenty days sooner than did the adit, and the different color of its waters proves that it flows through a tract differing in quality of soil from that through which passes the adit. the interesting question, "whether the niger communicates with the bahar el abiud?" will, however, very probably be determined before the close of another year, as the pasha will probably send an expedition up that river. secondly, i am further disposed to believe that the main stream of the adit, or nile of bruce, does not take its rise in abyssinia, but in the mountains assigned as the place of its origin by the people of sennaar. for on viewing the mass of water that runs by sennaar even now, when the river has not attained two-thirds of the usual magnitude it acquires during the rainy season, i can by no means believe that the main source of such a river is only about three hundred miles distant from sennaar. the tract of country included between the adit and the bahar el abiud is called el gezira, i.e. the island: because, in the season of the rains, many rivers running from the mountains in the south into the bahar el abiud and the adit, occasion this tract to be included by rivers. i am disposed to believe, that the representations made of the climate of this country are much exaggerated; as, except during the rainy season, and immediately after it, the country is a high and dry plain,[ ] by no means excessively hot, because the level of the countries on the nile being constantly ascending from egypt, occasions sennaar to be many hundred feet higher than the level of egypt, which is proved by the rapid descent of the waters of the nile toward the latter country. the east and south winds also are, in sennaar, cool breezes; because they come either from the mountains of abyssinia, or the huge and high ranges which compose the gibel el gumara. i was in sennaar at midsummer, and at no time found the heat very uncomfortable, provided i was in the open air, and under a shade. in the cottages and houses, indeed, on account of their want of ventilation, the heat was excessive. i made during my stay in sennaar frequent inquiries about the fly mentioned by bruce; the people of sennaar said they knew nothing of it;[ ] but, in reply to my inquiries, referred to a worm, which they say comes out of the earth during the rainy season, and whose bite is dangerous. the reptile species in sennaar are numerous. the houses are full of lizards, which, if you lie on the floor, you may feel crawling or running over you all night. i saw at sennaar a serpent of a species, i believe, never before mentioned. it was a snake of about two feet long, and not thicker than my thumb, striped on the back, with a copper colored belly, and a flat head. this serpent had four legs, which did not appear to be of any use to him, as they were short and hanging from the sides of his belly. all his motions, which were quick and rapid, were made in the usual manner of serpents, i.e. upon its belly.[ ] i do not feel authorized to give an opinion as to the national character of the people inhabiting the kingdom of sennaar; but i am obliged to consider the inhabitants of the capital as a very detestable people. they are exceedingly avaricious, extortionate, faithless, filthy and cruel.[ ] the men are generally tall and well shaped, but the females are, almost universally, the ugliest i ever beheld; this is probably owing to their being obliged to do all sorts of drudgery. the children of these people, and indeed of all the tribes on the upper nile, go quite naked till near the age of puberty. a girl unmarried is distinguished by a sort of short leather apron, composed of a great number of leather thongs hanging like tassels from a leather belt fastened round the waist: and this is all her clothing, being no longer than that of our mother eve after her fall. the married women, however, are generally habited in long coarse cotton clothes, which they wrap round them so as to cover their whole person, except when they are at work, when they wrap the whole round the waist. as to the manufactures of the people of the upper nile, they are limited, i believe, to the following articles, earthenware for domestic uses and bowls for pipes; cotton cloths for clothing; knives, mattocks, hoes and ploughs, for agriculture, water-wheels for the same; horse furniture, such as the best formed saddles i ever rode on, very neatly fabricated; stirrups in the european form, made of silver for the chiefs, and not like those of the turks; large iron spurs, bits with small chains for reins, to prevent them from being severed by the stroke of an enemy's broadsword; long and double edged broadswords, with the guard frequently made of silver; iron heads for lances, and shields made of the hide of the elephant; to which may be added, that the women fabricate very beautiful straw mats. there is a general resemblance, in domestic customs, among all the peoples who inhabit the borders of the nile from assuan to sennaar. they differ, however, somewhat in complexion and character. the people of the province of succoot are generally not so black as the nubian or the dongolese. they are also frank and prepossessing in their deportment. the dongolese is dirty, idle, and ferocious. the character of the shageian is the same, except that he is not idle, being either an industrious peasant or a daring freebooter. the people on the third cataract are not very industrious, but have the character of being honest and obliging. the people of berber are by far the most civilized of all the people of the upper nile. the inhabitants of the provinces of shendi and halfya are a sullen, scowling, crafty, and ferocious people; while the peasants of sennaar inhabiting the villages we found on our route, are a respectable people in comparison with those of the capital. throughout the whole of these countries there is one general characteristic, in which they resemble the indians of america, namely, courage and self-respect. the chiefs, after coming to salute the pasha, would make no scruple of sitting down facing him, and converse with him without embarrassment, in the same manner as they are accustomed to do with their own maleks, with whom they are very familiar. with the greatest apparent simplicity they would frequently propose troublesome questions to the pasha, such as, "o great sheck, or o great malek; (for so they called the pasha) what have we done to you, or your country, that you should come so far to make war upon us? is it for want of food in your country that you come to get it in ours?" and others similar. on the th of the moon shawal, cogia achmet returned to sennaar, bringing with him about two thousand prisoners as slaves, consisting almost entirely of women and children. the events of his expedition were related to me as follows: he marched rapidly for ten days in a direction about south-west of sennaar, (the capital) without resistance, through a well-peopled country, without meeting with any opposition till he came to the mountains of bokki, inhabited by pagans, the followers of the chief who had rejected the pasha's letter. they were posted on a mountain of difficult access; but their post was stormed, and after a desperate struggle, they found that spears and swords, though wielded by stout hearts and able hands, were not a match for fire-arms. they fled to another mountain, rearward of their first position. they were again attacked by cannon and musketry, and obliged to fly toward a third position: in their flight, they were in part hemmed in by the cavalry of cogia achmet, and about fifteen hundred of them put to the sword. those who escaped took refuge in a craggy mountain, inaccessible to cavalry. cogia achmet, believing he had made a sufficient proof to them that resistance on their part was unavailing, and the troops having suffered great distress by reason of the almost continual rains, after sweeping the villages of these people of all the population they could find in them, resumed his march for sennaar. on their return, they had to ford several deep streams, at this season running from the mountains, and both horse and man were almost worn out before they reached sennaar. the people of bokki are a hardy race of mountaineers--tall, stout, and handsome. they are pagans, worshippers of the sun, which planet they consider it as profane to look at. the prisoners brought in by cogia achmet resembled in their dress the savages of america; they were almost covered with beads, bracelets, and trinkets, made out of pebbles, bones, and ivory. their complexion is almost black, and their manners and deportment prepossessing. the arms of these people gave me great surprise: they consisted of well-formed and handsome helmets of iron, coats of mail, made of leather and overlaid with plates of iron, long and well fashioned lances, and a hand-weapon exactly resembling the ancient bills formerly used in england by the yeomanry. they were represented to me by the turks as dangerous in personal combat. they had never seen fire-arms before, and they nevertheless withstood them with great intrepidity. they said, i was informed, that a fusee was "a coward's weapon, who stands at a safe distance from his enemy, and kills him by an invisible stroke."[ ] on the th, the courier carrying the information to cairo of this expedition and its results, embarked in a canja to descend the river as far as berber, from whence he would proceed by the desert to egypt. agreeably to the promise of the pasha, i accompanied him. we arrived at nousreddin in berber in five days and nights. having the favor of the current, and sixteen oarsmen on board, we descended with great rapidity. the view of the country from the river is not pleasing, as the villages lie almost invariably far off from the river; the country, therefore, has the appearance of being almost uninhabited. we saw great numbers of hippopotami, who, in the night, would lift their heads out of the water at no great distance from the canja. they were sometimes fired at, but without apparent effect. we stopped, during the night, for an hour at shendi, to leave orders from the pasha to a small garrison of turkish troops stationed there.[ ] the river nile, below the point of junction with the great bahar el abiud, presents a truly magnificent spectacle.[ ] between halfya and shendi, the river is straitened and traverses a deep and gloomy defile formed by high rocky hills, between which the nile runs dark, deep, and rapidly for about twelve or fifteen miles. on emerging from this defile, the river again spreads itself majestically, and flows between immense plains of herbage, bounded only by the horizon: its banks nearly full, but not yet overflowed. about thirty miles above nousreddin, we passed the mouth of the bahar el iswood (on the eastern shore); it is the last river that empties into the nile. i estimated it at about two-thirds of a mile broad at its embouchure. the nile, below the point of junction with this river, is more than two miles from bank to bank, at this season. during the two first days of our voyage, we had some severe squalls and very heavy rains; but after passing the territory of sennaar, we had a sky almost without a cloud. on our arrival at nousreddin, no more dromedaries could be immediately obtained than were sufficient to mount the courier and his two guides. i was, therefore, obliged to tarry five days in nousreddin before i could find a caravan journeying to egypt. on the th of shawal, i quitted nousreddin, along with a caravan on its way to egypt from sennaar, conducted by a soldier attached to the cadilaskier of the army of ismael pasha, who was conducting to egypt twenty-two dromedaries and camels, and some slaves, belonging to the cadilaskier, and four fine horses belonging to the pasha. we started at about three hours before noon, and after marching for three hours, stopped at a village named sheraffey, to obtain rations for the horses and camels to subsist them through the desert. our route lay on the outside of the villages, and on the border of the desert. the villages are numerous and well built of sun-dried bricks, and the face of the country, on our side of the river, perfectly level. we stayed at sheraffey until the next morning: the conductor of the caravan not being able to obtain at this place the durra he wanted for his cattle, we proceeded to a village called hassah, which is about an hour's march from sheraffey. we stayed there till next morning. on the th of the moon, at day-light, we mounted our camels, and proceeded on our road, which lay on the skirts of the desert. we passed a continual succession of large, well-built and populous villages, lying about a mile distant from the river; the weather serene and cool, as it has been since our arrival in berber. we halted at about the middle of the forenoon, by a village called abdea, until an hour and a half before sunset, when we again set forward, and after marching for three hours and a half, halted for the remainder of the night in a small village, half in ruins. the reason of our short marches and frequent stoppages was, to give the conductor of the caravan opportunities to make provision for passing the desert. he might have done it at any of the villages, had he been content to pay the price demanded; but as he was a man who seemed to hold hard bargains in horror, and to love money with great affection, he did not give the latter for durra till he was absolutely obliged to make the afflictive exchange. on the st of zilkade we started at daylight, and marched till about two hours after sunrise, when we stopped at some villages called gannettee. the country we passed since yesterday is the desert, which comes down close to the river's bank, presenting but few spots fit for cultivation. we were informed last night, that the camp of mehemmet bey, who is on his way from egypt with five thousand men, to take possession of darfour and kordofan, is on the other side of the river.[ ] the weather continues serene and not very hot. stayed at gannettee till about the middle of the afternoon, when we proceeded on our journey through a a desert and dreary country, without either habitations or cultivation, as the desert comes here down to the river. the rocks and stones of the desert are generally of black granite. no verdure was to be seen, except on the margin of the river. the river hereabouts is much impeded by rocks and rapids, but contains many beautiful islands, some of them very large, fertile, populous, and well cultivated. malek mohammed el hadgin commands this country. his province, called "el raba tab," contains eighty-eight large and fertile islands, and the shores of the river adjacent. he has a very high character for courage, morals, and generosity; he resides on the great island of mograt, which is said to be about sixty miles long.[ ] we halted at about three hours before midnight on the bank of the river, within hearing of a shellal, where the river forms a regular cataract, except a small pass on the easterly shore. after reposing the camels an hour and a half, and refreshing ourselves with bread and the muddy water of the nile, we recommenced our march, which was continued without cessation till an hour before noon next morning, always through the desert, in order to cut a point of land formed by an angle in the river, when we stopped under the shade of some fine date trees on the bank of the river, and in view of one of its large and ever verdant isles, called kandessee, in a small island adjoining which khalil aga, my companion, says he saw, when he ascended the third cataract,[ ] a pyramid more modern and fresh than any he had seen in these countries. possibly the island of kandessee takes its name from the celebrated candace, who, in the reign of nero, repulsed and defeated the roman legions, and this pyramid may be her tomb. under the date trees, on the bank of the river opposite to this island, we refreshed ourselves with our usual repast, bread and water, as the people of a village close by would give us meat neither for love, money, nor soap,[ ] of which latter article they stand in great but unconscious need. d of zilkade quitted our station about two hours after midnight, and went on our way. our route continued to lie through the desert, but not far from the bank of the river; about three hours before noon in the morning came to a small village, named haphasheem, lying on the margin of the river, opposite a verdant island it was delightful to look at. the river on the third cataract, khalil aga tells me, contains a continual chain of such.[ ] i could not get any thing to relish our usual repast of bread and water, except some dates. my eyes to-day were much inflamed by the reflection of the sun's rays from the sand, and at night were very painful and running with matter. stayed here till about the same hour after midnight as yesterday, when we again set forward. the country the same as yesterday, except that we saw several stony mountains in the desert, some of them at no great distance from the river. some of these mountains must contain ruins, as at the village where we halted to-day, which we did at about noon, we found a very large and well-fashioned burnt brick, which the peasants said was brought from one of these mountains. the whole of the country through which we have passed for four days contains no cultivable land on this side of the river, except on its margin; but in compensation for this sterility, the islands in this part of the river, which are numerous, very large, and very beautiful, are without a superior for luxuriance of vegetation. every day when we have come to the river to halt and refresh ourselves, we found one or more in view. at this last station i was lucky enough to purchase a small kid at the enormous price of twelve piasters, the first meat we had eaten for four days. applied at night a poultice of dates to my eyes, which were much inflamed by today's march, and found some relief from the remedy. at about three hours after midnight we again resumed our travel, and marched till an hour before noon of to-day, the th of zilkade expecting to arrive at the place where the road quits the river, and plunges into the great eastern desert of africa; but the weather becoming close and very hot, and the camels fatigued, we halted to repose them and ourselves on the bank of the river. shortly after our arrival two of the camels of the caravan died. our route still lay through plains and over hills of rock and sand, which come down to the river's edge, but the river, as usual, presented a continual succession of beautiful islands. the death of the two camels having alarmed the conductor of the caravan for the others, we stayed in this place till the middle of the second day after to repose and refresh them previous to entering the desert. during our stay here i engaged a man to swim over to the island opposite, to purchase some durra flour and dates. he could, however, obtain only some dates. i was obliged, in consequence, to reconcile myself to entering the desert short of provisions. i had made provision in berber for fifteen days, being assured that in twelve days we should have passed the desert, and arrive at the villages on the bank of the nile four days march above assuan. the unexpected retardments of our march from berber had, however, made us nine days in arriving at the place where the road turns into the desert. on the th of the moon, at about two hours before sunset, we quitted our halting-place, and after only one hour's march by the border of the river came to a place where the nile suddenly turns off toward the south-west.[ ] at this place the guide told us we were to fill our waterskins, and to quit the river for the desert. we stayed here till the afternoon of the th of the moon. the two last nights we have kept watch, and only slept with our hands upon our arms, robbers being, we were told, in this neighborhood, who had lately pillaged some caravans. we were not, however, molested. the desert, on the border of the river hereabouts, abounds with doum trees, which are inhabited by great numbers of monkeys. its fruit furnishes their food. this fruit consists in a large nut, on the outside covered with a brown substance almost exactly resembling burned gingerbread. it is, however, so hard that no other teeth and jaws, except those of a monkey or an arab, are well capable of biting it. about one hour's march below our present position is an encampment of bedouins and the tomb of a marabout. the people of the country and the caravans had piled his grave with camels' and asses saddles, probably intended as offerings to interest his good offices in the other world. at about four hours after the noon of the th, we quitted the banks of the nile, and turned into the desert, carrying as much water as we well could, myself taking four water-skins for myself, khalil aga, and a black slave of mine. we marched till about an hour before midnight, when we halted for an hour to breathe the camels and to eat a morsel of bread, after which we continued our way till nearly day-break, when one of the pasha's horses falling down and refusing to rise, it was necessary to wait till the animal had taken a little rest. we threw ourselves upon the sand, and slept profoundly for two hours, when we were roused to continue our journey. we proceeded till about two hours before noon, when we halted in a low sandy plain, sprinkled here and there with thorny bushes. these bushes afforded food for the camels, and a miserable shelter from the sun for ourselves. we shoved embodies under them as closely to their roots as the thorns would admit, to sleep as well sheltered as possible from the burning rays of the vertical sun. but sound sleep in this condition was impossible, as every half-hour the sun advancing in his course contracted or changed the shadow of the bush, and obliged us to change our position; as to sleep in his rays in this climate is not only almost impossible but dangerous, it almost infallibly producing a fever of the brain. the country we traversed this first day's journey is a level plain of sand and gravel, with scattered mountains of black granite here and there in view, where no sound is heard but the rush of the wind. the weather was cool enough during the day, and coldish in the night.[ ] in the afternoon we again set forward, proceeding and halting as yesterday, viz. once for an hour about two hours before midnight, and once again a little before day-break for an hour and a half. the desert continued to exhibit the same aspect as before till about midnight, when we quitted the plains to enter among gloomy defiles, winding between mountains of black granite. we passed one chain, and at a little beyond the entrance of another, lying about two leagues to the north of the first, the guide told us that we were near the well apseach; soon after we arrived at a place containing bushes. here the caravan halted, and those who wanted fresh water filled their water-skins from the well which lies in the mountains, about an hour's march from the place where we halted. this well is at the bottom of an oblique passage leading into one of the mountains, at the termination of which is found no great quantity of sweet water deposited by the rains which fall in this country about the time of the summer solstice.[ ] during the last two days i traveled in great pain; the reflection of the sun from the sand, and the strong wind from the north (prevalent at this season in the desert), which blew its finer particles into my eyes, in spite of all my precautions to shelter them, exasperated and inflamed their malady to a great degree, which the want of sufficient shelter from the sun, during the time of repose, contributed to aggravate. we stayed near the well till about sunset, when we resumed our travel, and at about three hours after sunrise on the morning of the th, came to a rock in a sandy plain, where the conductor of the caravan ordered a halt. we distributed ourselves round this rock as well as we could, in order to repose;[ ] khalil aga and myself making a covering from the sun by means of my carpet, propped up by our fusees and fastened by the corners to stones we placed upon the rock, by means of our shawls and sashes. we stayed here till the middle of the afternoon, when we mounted our camels in order to reach the well morat as soon as possible, in order to water those patient and indispensable voyagers of the desert.[ ] we traversed a tolerably level but rocky tract till about two hours after midnight, when we reached the well. it lies in a valley between two high chains of mountains of black granite. its water is somewhat bitter, as its name imports, and is not drank by travelers except when their water-skins are exhausted. it serves, however, for the camels of the caravans, and for the inhabitants of two arab villages in the vicinity, named "abu hammak" and "dohap" who brought their camels to water here the morning after our arrival. these poor but contented people are obliged to subsist, for the most part, upon their camels' milk, their situation affording little other means of nourishment. they are, however, independent, and remote from the tyranny and oppression which afflicts the people of most of the countries of the east.[ ] on the rocks near the well we saw some rude hieroglyphics, representing bulls, horses, and camels, cut in the granite, in the manner of those found in the rocks near assuan, on the south side of the cataract. our guide tells us that such cuttings in the rocks are found in many of the mountains of the desert. during our stay at morat a violent dispute had arisen among the arabs of our caravan about some money which had been stolen from one of them. the man suspected of the theft endeavored to justify himself by much hard swearing, but circumstances being strong against him, i told the man who had been robbed, that if the money was not restored previous to our arrival at assuan, i would speak to the cacheff about the affair, who would take the proper measures to detect and punish the thief. in consequence of this menace, the man robbed, next morning had the satisfaction to find unexpectedly that his money had been secretly restored and deposited among the baggage, from whence it had been stolen. on the th, at sunset, we quitted morat; and after a winding march among the hills for five hours, we arrived at a broad valley, surrounded by high mountains and abounding in doum trees, the first we had seen since we quitted the river. this place is called "el medina." it contains an arab village, whose inhabitants gain something by supplying the caravans with goats, of which they have many, and by furnishing them with water, of which they possess several reservoirs filled by the rains. we reposed for the rest of the night under the doum trees, and in the morning regaled ourselves with the pure and wholesome water of el medina, which was to me particularly grateful after being obliged to drink, for several days, either the muddy water we had brought from the river, or that of apseach, which had become heated by the sun, and impregnated with a disgusting smell, derived from the new leather of the water-bags which contained it. i bought here a fat goat and some milk, which made us a feast, which hunger and several days fasting on bad bread made delicious. we stayed here to water and repose the camels till the afternoon of the second day after our arrival, when we recommenced our march for the river, whose distance we were told was three days march from el medina. during our stay at el medina, khalil aga my companion was taken very ill with vomiting and purging, occasioned by having drank of the water of morat, against which i had remonstrated without effect. he did not get quit of the consequences of his imprudence for several days. on the th, in the afternoon, we commenced our march for the river. the desert hereabouts resembles that we passed the two first days after our quitting the river, being a sandy plain studded with hills and mountains of granite. we proceeded till about three hours after midnight, when we lay down to repose till day-break, when we again mounted and continued our journey till two hours before noon, when we stopped at a rock which had some holes in it, where we sheltered ourselves from the sun, and dined with appetite on some coarse durra bread baked upon camel's dung. by the middle of the afternoon we were again on our way, which led through the deep and winding valleys of three mountains of calcareous stone, which indicated the proximity of the river, and over hills of deep sand, with which the eddies of the wind had in many places filled those valleys. since we left morat till we came to these mountains the granite hills had become rarer, others of calcareous stone here and there presented themselves, and the level of the desert was constantly ascending[ ] i have no doubt that the level of the interior of the desert is lower than the bed of the river. during the passage over these hills several of the camels gave out, that of my black slave among the rest.[ ] four hours after sunrise we came to a valley, where there was here and there some herbs of the desert, where we stopped to let the camels eat, they having fasted since we left el medina. we were obliged to look among the rocks for shelter from the sun, each one arranging himself as well as he could to eat durra bread and drink warm water, and sleep as soundly as possible. during the course of last night we fell in with a caravan coming from assuan; we pressed round them to buy something to eat; we asked for dates and flour to make bread, but they had nothing of the kind that they could afford to part with. we stayed at the rock before mentioned till the middle of the afternoon. on awaking from sleep, i observed two of the arabs of our caravan busily employed about our guide. they were a long time engaged in frizzing and plaiting his hair, and finished the operation by pouring over it a bowlful of melted mutton suet, which made his head quite white. i asked for the meaning of this operation at this time; they told me that we should be at the river to-morrow morning, and that our guide was adorning himself to see and salute his friends there. he appeared to be highly satisfied with the efforts of his hair-dressers to make him look decent, and it must be confessed that he made a very buckish appearance. as soon as our guide had finished his toilette, he mounted his dromedary and took his post in front, and we set forward. we marched all night without stopping, which was necessary, as our water was nearly spent,[ ] but which distressed greatly that part of our caravan who had no beast to ride.[ ] these wretched men had hitherto accompanied us all the way on foot, with little to eat and less to drink. at present they were almost exhausted with fatigue, hunger and thirst. every now and then, one or more of them would throw himself on the sand in despair. the repeated assurance that the river was near, hour after hour, became less and less capable of rousing them to exertion, and the whip was at length applied to make them get up and go on.[ ] they demanded water immediately, which we were too short of ourselves to give them, as we feared every minute that our camels would drop, which would render every drop of water we had as precious as life. one unfortunate lad, who had joined the caravan before it entered the desert, i suspect a domestic who had fled from the distresses that had found us in the upper countries, made pathetic applications to me for water; i twice divided with him a bowlful i was drinking, "in the name of god, the protector of the traveler." this young man, in the course of this toilsome night, had disappeared, having doubtless laid himself down in despair. we unfortunately did not miss him till it was too late.[ ] about two hours before day-break we reached the entrance of a deep ravine, between ridges and hills of rocks. we marched in it for six hours. it zigzagged perpetually, and its bottom was covered with fragments of the rocks that enclosed it, and which had apparently been displaced by strong currents of water. this phenomenon surprised me, as the entrance into this ravine being from the plain, it was evident that the currents which had produced these displacements could not at any era have come from thence. but at the termination of this ravine, which ended nearly at the river, the cause became evident. an ancient canal, now nearly filled up, leads from the river into this ravine, and the rush of the current during the seasons of inundation, has loosened and displaced fragments of the bordering mountains. it was about two hours before noon on the th of zilkade, when, emerging from this ravine, we came upon the bank of the beautiful and blessed river, which is the very heart and life's blood of all north-eastern africa. it was with the most grateful feelings toward "the lord of the universe," that i laid myself down under the date trees by its brink to cool and to wash my swollen and inflamed eyes, whose disorder was greatly increased by fatigue, a dazzling sun, and want of sleep. immediately after our arrival at the little village of seboo,[ ] which stands on the canal leading to the ravine before mentioned, myself and khalil aga addressed ourselves to the people of the village to engage some one to go and bring to the river the unfortunate lad who had been missed. i told them that, in two hours, a man mounted on a dromedary could reach the place where he had disappeared, and save his life: i appealed to their humanity, to their sense of duty towards god and man, to engage them to go and save him. finding them deaf to my entreaties, i offered them money, and khalil aga his musket, to bring him safe and sound to the river. i appealed to their humanity in vain, and to their avarice without effect.[ ] we told them that the christians, in a case of this kind, would send not one but forty men, if necessary, to go and save a fellow creature from the horrible death of desert famine; and that heaven would surely require at their hands the life of this young man, if they neglected to save him at length the sheck of the village promised me to send a dromedary to the place to-morrow morning. he made the promise probably to appease my reproaches, for he did not fulfill it. on the second day after my arrival, i dipped my feet and slippers into the nile, and bequeathing the village of seboo my most hearty curse, (which god fulfill!) embarked on board a boat on its way from dongola to egypt, and in three days reached assuan.[ ] the end london printed by c. roworth bell yard, temple bar footnotes: [footnote : for instance, a navigable passage has been cut through the rocks of the first cataract, and a canal is at present constructing, by order of the pasha, round some of the most difficult passes of the second. he has completed a broad and deep canal from the nile to alexandria, by which commerce is liberated from the risk attending the passage of the boghaz of rosetta. large establishments for the fabric of saltpeter, gunpowder, cannon and small arms, others for the fabric of silks, cotton and sugar, have been erected by the viceroy, and are in operation under the superintendence of europeans.] [footnote : their names are as follows:--succoot, machass, dongola, shageia, monasier, isyout, rab-a-tab, berber, shendi, halfya, the kingdoms of sennaar, darfour, and kordofan; at present, all subject to the conqueror of egypt and arabia.] [footnote : mr. frediani, an italian*, and messrs. caillaud and constant, the latter sent out by his most christian majesty, have accompanied our camp to sennaar, where i left them in good health. to messrs. caillaud and constant, particularly, i am indebted for much cordiality and friendship, which it is a pleasure to me to acknowledge. the geographical positions of the most important places on the upper nile have been ascertained by mr. constant, who is provided with an excellent set of instruments, with great care and the most indefatigable pains, of which i myself have been a witness. his observations will doubtless be a most valuable acquisition to geography.] * since dead in sennaar, this unfortunate man died a chained maniac, in consequence of violent fever.] [footnote : corresponding to the end of september, or the former part of october, a.c. .] [footnote : this force may be thus enumerated: ten pieces of field artillery, one mortar inch caliber, and two small howitzers, attached to which were one hundred and twenty cannoneers; three hundred turkish infantry and seven hundred mogrebin ditto; the remainder of the army turkish and bedouin cavalry, together with a corps of abbadies mounted on dromedaries.] [footnote : called the shellal of semne.] [footnote : called the shellal of ambigool.] [footnote : called the shellal of tongaroo.] [footnote : called the shellal of dal.] [footnote : i have been informed that about two miles northward of this place, on the west side of the river, is to be seen a curious vaulted edifice, having the interior of its walls in many places covered with paintings. my informants believed that it was anciently a christian monastery. this is possible, as the ruins of several are to be seen on the third cataract, and, as i have been told, on the second also.] [footnote : about seventy miles above wady haifa.] [footnote : i cannot help smiling in copying off this part of my journal, at the little account i made of "bread rice and lentils," at the commencement of the campaign. before i left sennaar, i have been more than once obliged to take a part of my horse's rations of durra to support nature. he ate his portion raw and i boiled mine. the causes of such distress were that the natives of the upper country would frequently refuse to sell us any thing for our dirty colored piastres of egypt, and the pasha would allow nobody to steal but himself. "steal" a fico for the phrase. the wise "convey it call," says ancient pistol, an old soldier who had seen hard times in the wars.] [footnote : these were the rapids of dall.] [footnote : in every dangerous pass, we invariably saw one or more of our boats wrecked.] [footnote : it is called gamatee.] [footnote : the middle of the upper nile is generally occupied by an almost continued range of islands.] [footnote : i learned afterwards from khalil aga, the american, who accompanied me to sennaar and back again to egypt, and who visited tins spot, that this column made a part of the ruins of an ancient temple, where are to be seen two colossal statues. i set out the next day with him to visit this place, but being then only convalescent from a bloody flux which had reduced my strength, i found myself too weak to reach the place, and returned to the boat.] [footnote : the river continues in the same general direction as high up as the island of mograt, on the third cataract, when it resumes a course more south and north. the length of this bend is probably not less than two hundred and fifty miles.] [footnote : i.e. the bank on our left-hand ascending the river.] [footnote : a more particular account of this battle will be given hereafter, in the course of the narrative.] [footnote : these gentlemen were messrs. waddington and hanbury, who, after staying a short time in our camp, returned to egypt. mr. waddington, on his return to england, published an account of his travels on the upper nile, in which, having been misled by the tongue of some mischievous enemy of mine, he gave an account of me not a little fabulous. on my arrival in london, i wrote to mr. waddington what he was pleased to call a "manly and temperate letter," informing him of his error, representing to him the serious injury it might do me, and calling upon him for a justification or an apology. mr. waddington, in the manner best becoming an english gentleman, frankly gave me both, concluding with the following expressions--"i feel the most sincere and profound sorrow for the unintentional injustice into which i have been betrayed by too hasty a belief of false information. for this i am as anxious to make you reparation, as i am incapable of doing any person a willful injury. i will therefore cause the note in question to be erased in the following editions of my book; and in the remaining copies of the present, i will instantly insert a new page or sheet, if necessary; or should that be impossible, i will immediately destroy the whole impression." it was impossible for me, after this, to retain any of the angry feelings excited by this affair, excepting towards "the false tongue" that occasioned it, on which i cordially imprecate a plentiful portion of the "sharp arrows of the mighty and coals of juniper."] [footnote : the desperate courage of these wretched peasants was astonishing; they advanced more than once to the muzzles of the cannon, and wounded some of the cannoneers in the act of re-loading their guns. notwithstanding their efforts, such was the disparity of their arms against cannon and fire-arms, that only one of the pasha's soldiers was killed, and they are said to have lost seven hundred in the battle and during the pursuit.] [footnote : i say "shot down," for the saber was found an unavailing weapon, as these people are so adroit in the management of their shields that they parried every stroke. i have seen upon the field where this battle was fought several shields that had not less than ten or fifteen saber cuts, each lying upon the dead body of the man who carried it, who had evidently died by three or four balls shot into him. the soldiers have told me that they had frequently to empty their carabine and pistols upon one man before he would fall.] [footnote : when our troops approached the castle of malek zibarra, his daughter, a girl of about fifteen, fled in such haste that she dropped one of her sandals, which i have seen. it was a piece of workmanship as well wrought as any thing of the kind could be even in europe. the girl was taken prisoner and brought to the pasha, who clothed her magnificently in the turkish fashion and sent her to her father, desiring her to tell him to "come and surrender himself, as he preferred to have brave men for his friends than for his enemies." when the girl arrived at the camp of zibarra, the first question her father asked her was, "my child, in approaching your father, do you bring your honor with you?" "yes," replied the girl, "otherwise i should not dare to look upon you. the pasha has treated me as his child, has clothed me as you see, and desires that you would leave war to make peace with him." zibarra was greatly affected, and did make several efforts to effect a peace with the pasha, which were traversed and frustrated by the other chiefs of the shageias.] [footnote : khalil aga, who has passed the whole of the third cataract, found in several of the islands there ruins which were probably those of monasteries, as he found there many of the stones covered with greek inscriptions, one of which he brought to me; i was obliged to abandon it on the route, on the dying of the camel that carried it.] [footnote : on my return to egypt, i presented mr. salt with several specimens, which are now in his possession.] [footnote : to which all the troops had been concentrated.] [footnote : it has been found, however, possible to pass the whole of the third cataract, in boats not drawing more than three feet of water, by the aid of all the male population on its shores, who, by the aid of ropes, dragged up nine boats, which arrived in berber before the pasha commenced his march for sennaar. they were fifty-seven days in getting from the island of kendi to berber. every one of them was repeatedly damaged in getting through the passages.] [footnote : i have been informed that, previous to the advance of the pasha ismael from wady halfa, deputies from the chiefs of shageia arrived in the camp to demand of the pasha, "for what reason he menaced them with war?" the pasha replied, "because you are robbers, who live by disturbing and pillaging all the countries around your own." they replied, "that they had no other means to live." the pasha answered, "cultivate your land, and live honestly." they replied with great naivete, "we have been bred up to live and prosper by what you call robbery; we will not work, and cannot change our manner of living," the pasha replied, "i will make you change it."] [footnote : the number of the old mamalukes of egypt was reduced, at the time of our arrival in berber, to less than one hundred persons. they had, however, some hundreds of blacks, whom they had trained up in their discipline.] [footnote : i am happy to add that these relics of the renowned cavalry of egypt are now residing there in ease and in honor; the promises of the pasha ismael having been fulfilled by his father to the letter.] [footnote : it is a singular circumstance, that the chiefs of dongola, shageia, berber, shendi, and halfya; should bear the same title as used in the hebrew bible, to designate the petty sovereigns of canaan.] [footnote : the shageia cavalry, however, wore these cloths cut and made into long shirts, in order, probably, to have the freer management of their lances, shields, and broad swords. it should also be stated, that the maleks or chiefs of the upper nile, were generally habited in fine blue or white shirts, brought from egypt.] [footnote : the same circumstance of dress is common also among the peasants of both sexes of dongola, shageia, and along the third cataract, with this addition, that they not only anoint the head, but also the whole body with butter, they say it protects them from the heat; that employed by the personages of consideration is perfumed. every malek has a servant charged with the particular care of a box of this ointment. on our march to sennaar, whither we were accompanied by the malek of shendy, i could wind this servant of his a mile off.] [footnote : i never in my life saw such noble and beautiful specimens of the species as were these two horses; they were stallions, eighteen hands high, beautifully formed, of high courage and superb gait. when mounted, they tossed their flowing manes aloft higher than the heads of their turbaned riders, and a man might place his two fists in their expanded nostrils; they were worthy to have carried ali and khaled to "the war of god."] [footnote : i feel myself, however, bound in conscience to tell the whole truth of this affair. in perambulating about the town, in the course of the day, which was very hot, i got affected by a coup de soleil, which gave me a violent fever and head-ache. i have strong suspicions that this circumstance acted as a powerful "preventer stay" to my virtue, and enabled me to put the devil to flight on this trying occasion. the mother of these damsels appeared to be edified by the discourse i made to her upon the subject of her proposal, but the young women plainly told me, that i was "rajil batal," i.e. a man good for nothing. if they could have understood latin, i should have told them, "quodcunque ostendes mihi sic-k invalidus odi."] [footnote : the ordinary price of a virgin wife in berber, is a horse, which the bridegroom is obliged to present to the father of the girl he demands in marriage. i remember asking a young peasant, of whom i bought some provisions one day in berber, "why he did not marry?" he pointed to a colt in the yard, and told me that "when the colt became big enough, he should take a wife."] [footnote : this learned soldier somewhat surprised me, on my demanding "why he did not give the title of caliph to the padischah?" by answering that there had been no caliph since ali, and that the padischah was only "emir el moumenim," i.e. "commander of the true believers."] [footnote : this word is hebrew, and signifies "a lamb."] [footnote : abdin cacheff is a very brave and respectable man, of about fifty years of age. he treated me with great politeness and consideration. he distinguished himself greatly at the battle near courty, fighting ills way into the mass of the enemy and out again, twice or thrice on that day.] [footnote : in order to save the artillery horses for the exigencies of battle, the cannon were drawn by camels from the third cataract to sennaar, and the horses were led harnessed by their respective guns, ready to be clapped on if necessary. i venture to recommend the same procedure in all marches of artillery in the east.] [footnote : the other side of the river, at least as often and as far as we could see it, presented the same appearance. the only mountains we saw on the other side of the river, were those of "attar baal," at the foot of which (they lie near the river, about three days march north of shendi) are, as i have learned, to be seen the ruins of a city, temples, and fifty-four pyramids. this, i am inclined to believe, was the site of the famous meroe, the capital of the island of that name. the territory in which these ruins are found is in fact nearly surrounded by rivers, being bounded on the west by the nile, on the south by the rivers ratt and dander, and on the north by the bahar el uswood. all these three rivers empty into the nile.] [footnote : the butter of the countries on the upper nile is liquid, like that of egypt. that, however, which they use to anoint themselves is of the color and consistence of european butter. we used the latter in preference, in our cookery.] [footnote : it includes a great part of the ancient isle of meroe.] [footnote : malek shouus, on learning that the malek of shendi had made his peace with the pasha, threatened to attack him. on this it is said the malek of shendi called out twenty thousand men to line the easterly bank of the nile, to prevent the approach of shouus. shouus, however, had the whole country of shendi on the western side entirely under his control before our arrival, he and his cavalry devouring their provisions and drinking their bouza at a most unmerciful rate. on our approach, he went up opposite halfya, where the country, on the western shore, is desert. he demanded of the chief of halfya, to supply him with provisions: on his refusal, shouus, in the night, swam the river with his cavalry, fell upon the town of halfya by surprise, and ransacked it from end to end, and then repassed the river before the chief of halfya could collect a force to take his revenge. the cavalry of shouus, in the course of the campaign, have swam over the nile five times: both horse and man are trained to do this thing, inimitable, i believe, by any other cavalry in the world. shouus, since his joining us, has rendered very important services to the pasha, as he is thoroughly acquainted with the strength, resources, and riches of all the tribes of the nile, from the second cataract to sennaar and darfour: his horses' feet are familiar with the sod and sand of all these countries, which he and his freebooters have repeatedly traversed. on our march from berber to shendi, i ran some risk of falling into his hands, as shouus was continually prowling about in our neighborhood, from the time of our quitting berber. two nights before we reached shendi, i stopped on the route, at a village, to take some refreshment, letting the army go by me. about an hour and a half after, i mounted my horse to follow the troops, but, owing to the state of my eyes, i missed my way, after wandering back-wards and forwards to find the track of the troops, about two hours after midnight, i descried the rockets always thrown aloft during our night marches, to direct all stragglers to the place where the pasha had encamped. i put my horse to his speed, and arrived there a little before dawn.] [footnote : during the night of the d, i received an order from the pasha to precede the march of the troops, and pick out a spot near halfya to encamp his army on, in the european manner. mr. caillaud was requested to accompany me in this duty. mr. caillaud candidly told me that he was not a military man, and left the affair entirely to me. i chose a fine position on the river, about two miles above halfya, in the rear of which was plenty of grass for the horses and camels. the pasha, however, did not choose to come so far, but pitched his camp on the low sand flats before halfya, near which there was no grass for the camels, who, during the five days following, perished in great numbers. he had undoubtedly his reasons for this, among which not the least important was, to be near enough to halfya to have the town within reach of his cannon, as the malek of halfya had not as yet submitted. the pasha, however, had like to have had serious cause to repent of having taken this position, when the river rose, and threatened to inundate his camp. luckily it did not reach the ammunition, otherwise we should probably have been left without the means of defending ourselves. this overflowing of the nile was occasioned by the rise of the bahar el abiud, which, this year at least, commenced its annual augmentation nearly a month sooner than the nile.] [footnote : the troops of shouus and the abbadies swam their horses and dromedaries over the river. cogia achmet, one of the chiefs of the army, in endeavoring to imitate the cavalry of shageia, lost seventy horses and some soldiers. the rest of the horses and camels of the army were taken over by arranging them by the sides of the boats, with their halters held in hand by the people in the boats. another large portion of our horses and camels was taken over by the shageias and the abbadies, who fastened at the breast of each horse, and over the neck of each camel of ours, so carried over, an empty water-skin blown up with air, which prevented the animal from sinking, while their guides swam by their sides, and so conducted them over.] [footnote : the same day that the camp marched from the bahar el abiud, mr. caillaud and mr. frediani embarked in the boats to go to sennaar, by the river, in order to have an opportunity of visiting the ruins of "soba," which lie on the east side of the nile, not far above from its junction with the bahar el abiud. when these gentlemen rejoined us at sennaar, they informed me that almost the very ruins of this city have perished; they found, however, there some fragments of a temple, and of some granite, statues of lions: the city itself, they said, had been built of brick. this city of "soba" probably takes its name from "saba," the son of cush, who first colonized this country, which is called, in the hebrew bible, "the land of cush and saba."--see gen. x. . see the references in a concordance to the hebrew bible, under the heads of "cush," and "saba." if there were any pyramids near saba, i should believe it to be the ancient meroe, because josephus represents that the ancient name of meroe was "saba." "nam saba urbs eadem fuisse perhibetur quae a cambyse meroe in uxoris honorem dicta est:" quoted from eichom's ed. of sim. heb. lex. artic. sameh bet alef it was impossible for me to ask of the pasha liberty to accompany the gentlemen abovementioned, as a battle was expected in a few days between us and the king of sennaar, from which i would not have been absent on any consideration.] [footnote : the people of dongola, shageia, berber, shendi, and sennaar, do not use mills to make meal. they reduce grain to meal by rubbing it a handful at a time between two stones--one fixed in the ground, and one held by the hands. by long and tedious friction, the grain is reduced to powder. this labor is performed by the women, as is almost all the drudgery of the people of the upper nile.] [footnote : on my return from sennaar, i descended by the river as far as berber. on the way i did see some few water-wheels, which, however, were employed merely to water the patches of ground devoted to raising vegetables.] [footnote : the pasha had invited the malek of shendi and the malek of halfya to accompany him to sennaar. the malek of halfya excused himself on account of his age and infirmities, but sent his eldest son along with the pasha. by this stroke of policy the pasha made the tranquility of the powerful provinces of shendi and halfya certain; and the advance of his army without risk from an insurrection in his rear; as the people of those provinces would hardly dare to make any hostile movement while the chief of one province and the heir of the malek of the other were in our camp. nymmer, the malek of shendi, is a grave and venerable man of about years of age, very dignified in his deportment, and highly respectable for his morals. the malek of halfya i have not seen.] [footnote : the present sultan of sennaar is a young man of about years of age; he is black, his mother having been a egress. he was taken out of prison, where he had been confined for eighteen years by his predecessor, who was massacred by the party who placed him upon the throne. this revolution had taken place not very long before our march to sennaar. his name is bady.] [footnote : the natives told me that this palace had been built eighteen years ago, by the late good sultan that they had had, who had planted before it rows of trees, which had been destroyed when the palace was ruined, as i understood them, in the wars between the different competitors for the throne during the last eighteen years.] [footnote : the river nile lost its transparency four days before the army reached sennaar. the day that presents the river troubled, marks the commencement of its augmentation. the day before we observed this change in the nile, its waters were very clear and transparent. the day after, they were brown with mud.] [footnote : sennaar has three market-places. on our arrival we found them deserted, but on assurances from the pasha that all sellers should receive a fair price for their commodities, the principal one in a few days began to be filled. the articles i saw there during my stay in sennaar, were as follows: meat of camels, kine, sheep, and goats; a few cat-fish from the river, plenty of a vegetable called meholakea; some limes, a few melons, cucumbers, dried barmea, a vegetable common in egypt; beans, durra, duchan, tobacco of the country, plenty of gum arable, with which, by the way, sennaar abounds, (the natives use it in their cookery;) drugs and spices brought from gidda, among which i observed ginger, pepper, and cloves; and great quantities of dried odoriferous herbs found in sennaar, with which the natives season their dishes; to which must be added, aplenty of the long cotton cloths used for dress in sennaar. such were the articles offered for sale by the people of the country. in addition to which, the suttlers of our army offered for sale, tobacco, coffee, rice, sugar, shirts, drawers, shoes, gun flints, &c. &c. all at a price three or four times greater than they could be bought for at cairo. in some parts of the market-place the turks established coffee-houses, and the greeks who accompanied the army, cook-shops. these places became the resort of every body who wanted to buy something to eat, or to hear the news of the day. there might be seen soldiers in their shirts and drawers, hawking about their breeches for sale in order to be able to buy a joint of meat to relish their rations of durra withal, and cursing bitterly their luck in that they had not received any pay for eight months; while the solemn turk of rank perambulated the area, involved, like pious eneas at carthage, in a veil of clouds exhaling from a long amber headed pipe. all around you you might hear much hard swearing in favor of the most palpable lies; the seller in favor of his goods, and the buyer in favor of his egyptian piasters. in one place a crowd collects around somebody or other lying on the ground without his head on, on account of some misdemeanor; a little farther on, thirty or forty soldiers are engaged in driving, with repeated strokes of heavy mallets, sharp pointed pieces of timber, six or eight inches square, up the posteriors of some luckless insurgents who had had the audacity to endeavor to defend their country and their liberty; the women of the country meantime standing at a distance, and exclaiming, "that it was scandalous to make men die in so indecent a manner, and protesting that such a death was only fit for a christian," (a character they hold in great abhorrence, probably from never having seen one). such was the singular scene presented to the view by the market-place of sennaar.] [footnote : the occasion of this expedition was as follows:--on our arrival at sennaar, and after the accord made between the pasha and the sultan of sennaar, by which the latter surrendered his kingdom to the disposal of the vizier of the grand seignor, the pasha sent circulars throughout all the districts of the kingdom notifying the chiefs of this act, and summoning them to come in to him and render their homage. the chief of the mountaineers, inhabiting the mountains south and south-west of sennaar (the capital), not only refused to acknowledge the pasha, but even to receive his letter. on this, the pasha sent cogia achmet, one of the roughest of his chiefs, with thirteen hundred cavalry, escorting three, brazen-faced lawyers, out of the ten the pasha had brought with him in order to talk with the people of the upper country, to bring this man and his followers to reason.] [footnote : several of the chiefs of eastern sennaar had refused to recognize the act of the sultan, calling him "a coward" and "a traitor," for surrendering their country to a stranger. some of them took up arms, which occasioned the expedition commanded by the divan effendi.] [footnote : i must confess that i was much shocked and disgusted by this act on the part of the pasha, especially as he had shown so many traits of humanity in the lower country, which was undoubtedly one of the principal causes of its prompt submission. this execution was excused in the camp, by saying, that it would strike such terror as would repress all attempts at insurrection, and would consequently prevent the effusion of much blood. it may have been consistent with the principles of military policy, but i feel an insurmountable reluctance to believe it.] [footnote : they told me the names of these rivers, which i put down upon a sheet of paper devoted to preserving the names of some of the principal maleks of the country. in my journey back this paper has disappeared from among my notes and papers, which has been a subject of great vexation to me.] [footnote : the people of sennaar also believed that our boats could not pass the third cataract; and, therefore, their opinion with regard to the shellal at sulluk is not to be relied on.] [footnote : the rainy season in sennaar, at least the commencement of it, such as i found it, may be thus described: furious squalls of wind in the course of one or two hours, coming from all points of the compass, bringing and heaping together black clouds charged with electric matter; for twelve or fifteen hours an almost continual roar of thunder, and, at intervals, torrents of rain; after which, the sky would be clear for two, three, or four days at a time.] [footnote : it is nevertheless possible that this fly may be found in that part of the kingdom of sennaar which lies on the other side of the adit.] [footnote : it was in the house where i quartered, at sennaar, that i saw this singular animal. i jogged khalil aga, my countryman and companion, to look at it. he burst cut into an exclamation, "by god, that snake has got legs." he jumped up and seized a stick in order to kill and keep it as a curiosity, but it dodged his blow, and darted away among the baggage, which was overhauled without finding it, as it had undoubtedly escaped into some hole in the clay wall of the house. mr. constant, the gentleman, who accompanies mr. caillaud, was present at the time, so that i am convinced that what i saw was not an ocular delusion. i have been informed, since my return to egypt, that the figure of this animal is to be seen sculptured upon the ancient monuments of egypt.] [footnote : the people of sennaar catch, cook and eat, without scruple, cats, rats and mice; and those who are rich enough to buy a wild hog, fatten it up and make a feast of it. i had heard in the lower country that the people of sennaar made no scruple to eat swine's flesh, but i absolutely refused to believe that a people calling themselves mussulmans could do this from choice. but after my arrival in sennaar i was obliged to own that i had been mistaken. the species of hog found in the kingdom of sennaar is small and black; it is not found in that part of the kingdom called "el gezira," i.e. the island, but is caught in the woody mountains of the country near abyssinia. in the house of one malek in sennaar was found about a dozen of these animals fattening for his table.] [footnote : the mountains of bokki border upon the kingdom of fezoueli, which lies south of sennaar twenty days march. the mountains of fezoueli are supposed to contain gold mines; pieces of gold are frequently found in the torrents that flow from those mountains in the rainy season. a native of that country told the pasha ismael, that he had seen a piece of gold, found in those mountains, as big as the bottom part of the silver narguil of his excellence, i.e. about six inches in diameter. that there is gold in that country, is certain, as the female prisoners, taken at bokki, had many gold rings and bracelets, of which they were quickly disencumbered by our soldiers. the pasha intends to visit fezoueli after the rainy season is over, to find the veins from whence this gold is washed down by the torrents, and, in case of success, to work the mines.] [footnote : we passed attar baal the same night. the reader is aware that a boat carrying a courier, could not be detained to give a passenger an opportunity to see ruins.] [footnote : the "adit," or nile of bruce, enters the bahar el abiud nearly at right angles, but such is the mass of the latter river, that the nile cannot mingle its waters with those of the bahar el abiud for many miles below their junction. the waters of the adit are almost black during the season of its augmentation; those of the bahar el abiud, on the contrary, are white: so that for several miles below their junction, the eastern part of the river is black, and the western is white. this white color of the bahar el abiud is occasioned by a very fine white clay with which its waters are impregnated. at the point of junction between the bahar el abiud and the adit, the bahar el abiud is almost barred across by an island and a reef of rocks; this barrier checks its current, otherwise it would probably almost arrest the current of the adit. it is, nevertheless, sufficiently strong to prevent the adit from mingling with it immediately, although the current of the adit is very strong, and enters the bahar el abiud nearly at right angles.] [footnote : since my return to egypt, we have learned that this army, after some bloody battles, had succeeded in taking possession of darfour and kordofan.] [footnote : the provinces lying on the third cataract, between shageia and berber, are called, st, monasier; d, isyout, d, el raba tab.] [footnote : he came up in one of the nine boats that were able to pass, as mentioned before.] [footnote : as the people of these countries dislike the piasters of egypt, i bought a quantity of soap at sennaar from the greeks who accompanied the army as sutlers, in order to serve as a medium of exchange; for in most of the provinces on the upper nile, they prefer soap to any thing you can offer, except dollars, or the gold coin of constantinople.] [footnote : khalil aga, a native of new york, took the turban a few weeks before the departure of ismael pasha from cairo. learning that i was to accompany his excellence, he requested me to obtain of the pasha that he might be attached to me during the expedition. he is probably the first individual that ever traversed the whole of the river nile from rosetti to sennaar. i have done the same, except about two hundred miles of the third cataract.] [footnote : this i suppose to be the point where terminates the singular bend in the river noticed in the former part of my journal.] [footnote : the wind, during the day, was constantly from the north, which was the general direction of our march from the time we quitted the river till we reached it again, so that we had the breezes always in our faces. the air of the desert is so very dry that no part of my body was moistened by perspiration except the top of my head, which was sheltered from the influence of the sun and air by the folds of my turban. i did not feel incommoded by heat in the desert when out of the sun's rays, but on arriving at assuan i found it almost intolerable.] [footnote : the names of the wells in the desert of omgourann, between berber and seboo, are as follows:-- st, apseach. d, morat. d, el medina. th, amrashee, th, mogareen. in the two latter, water is only found after heavy rains.] [footnote : close by this rock was the skull of some wretched man who had perished on this spot. all along our route we saw hundreds of skeletons of camels. the skull that we saw probably belonged to one of two mogrebin soldiers who deserted at berber, in order to return to. egypt, and who both perished with thirst in the desert.] [footnote : our guide, an abadie, would not permit the camels of our caravan to be watered at the well of apseach, saying, that if he did, all the water then in the well would be consumed, and the consequence would be, that the nest traveler that came might perish with thirst.] [footnote : the ground near the well of morat is full of scorpion holes. on my arrival at midnight i spread my carpet on the ground and slept soundly. in the morning when it was taken up, we found under it a scorpion, i am sure four inches in length, its color green and yellow. i was told that they abound near all the wells of the desert, and i have seen very many at different places on the borders of the river.] [footnote : which we found to be the case till we came within fifteen hours march of the nile.] [footnote : out of the twenty-two camels that we had commenced our march with from berber, only twelve reached the river.] [footnote : this was occasioned by the heat of the sun and the dryness of the air of the desert, which made nearly two fifths of our water to evaporate.] [footnote : before we entered the desert our caravan had been joined by several runaway domestics, who had fled from the army to return to egypt.] [footnote : the soldier of the cadilaskier before mentioned, who was the conductor, i.e. the chief of the caravan, had recourse to a singular expedient to rouse one of them whom the whip could not stir. he seized his purse of money, which this man carried in his bosom, swearing that if he chose to stop and die there he might, and that he would be his heir and inherit his purse. this testamentary disposition on the part of the soldier had a wonderful effect. the man got up from the sand and walked forward very briskly, calling upon the soldier to restore the purse, as he was determined not to lie down any more till he reached the river. the soldier, however, observing the effect of his proceeding, retained the purse till we arrived at the river, when he restored it.] [footnote : the last time i saw him was when i gave him part of the last bowl; he kissed my slipper, shedding abundance of tears, and saying that i was the only one of the caravan that had shown him mercy. i bade him keep up a good heart, for that on the morrow morning, by the blessing of god, we should be at the river.] [footnote : directly opposite seboo, on the other bank of the river, stands an ancient egyptian temple. seboo is four days march of a camel above assuan.] [footnote : the reason for their refusal i afterwards learned, was, that they believed that the lad was already dead, and that therefore they should miss the reward promised.] [footnote : three days after my arrival at assuan i had news of the fate of this lad, from a nubian voyager of the desert, on his way to assuan, who had found him, thirty-six hours after our arrival at seboo, lying in the ravine leading to the river, but almost dead. he had stopped, it seems, to sleep a few hours, believing that sleep would refresh him, and that he could do it without danger, as the river was not many hours off. on his awaking, he found himself so weak that it was with great difficulty that he reached the ravine, where he fell. the traveler gave him water, and placed him on his dromedary, and brought him to the river, but he was too far gone; he died in a half an hour after he reached it. the last words he spoke, this man told me, related to his god, his prophet, and his mother: this traveler dug his grave and buried him. i told this man that i had offered a reward at seboo to whoever would bring this unfortunate young man to the river, and that i would give the money to him as a recompense for having done all he could do in such a case. the man, to my astonishment, replied, "that it was not money that he would take as a reward for what he had done; that he would receive no reward for it but from the hands of god, who would pay more for it than i could." i told him that i was happy to have found a mussulman mindful of the precepts of the koran, which inculcate charity and benevolence to all those who are in distress, and that the record of such deeds would occupy a great space on the almost blank page of our good actions.] the four feathers by a. e. w. mason author of "miranda of the balcony," "the courtship of morrice buckler," etc. new york the macmillan company london: macmillan & co., ltd. all rights reserved copyright, , by a. e. w. mason. copyright, , by the macmillan company. set up and electrotyped october, . reprinted november, december, ; january, ; february, march, . norwood press j. s. cushing & co.--berwick & smith norwood mass. u.s.a. to miss elspeth angela campbell june , . contents i. a crimean night ii. captain trench and a telegram iii. the last ride together iv. the ball at lennon house v. the pariah vi. harry feversham's plan vii. the last reconnaissance viii. lieutenant sutch is tempted to lie ix. at glenalla x. the wells of obak xi. durrance hears news of feversham xii. durrance sharpens his wits xiii. durrance begins to see xiv. captain willoughby reappears xv. the story of the first feather xvi. captain willoughby retires xvii. the musoline overture xviii. the answer to the overture xix. mrs. adair interferes xx. west and east xxi. ethne makes another slip xxii. durrance lets his cigar go out xxiii. mrs. adair makes her apology xxiv. on the nile xxv. lieutenant sutch comes off the half-pay list xxvi. general feversham's portraits are appeased xxvii. the house of stone xxviii. plans of escape xxix. colonel trench assumes a knowledge of chemistry xxx. the last of the southern cross xxxi. feversham returns to ramelton xxxii. in the church at glenalla xxxiii. ethne again plays the musoline overture xxxiv. the end the four feathers[ ] [footnote : the character of harry feversham is developed from a short story by the author, originally printed in the _illustrated london news_, and since republished.] chapter i a crimean night lieutenant sutch was the first of general feversham's guests to reach broad place. he arrived about five o'clock on an afternoon of sunshine in mid june, and the old red-brick house, lodged on a southern slope of the surrey hills, was glowing from a dark forest depth of pines with the warmth of a rare jewel. lieutenant sutch limped across the hall, where the portraits of the fevershams rose one above the other to the ceiling, and went out on to the stone-flagged terrace at the back. there he found his host sitting erect like a boy, and gazing southward toward the sussex downs. "how's the leg?" asked general feversham, as he rose briskly from his chair. he was a small wiry man, and, in spite of his white hairs, alert. but the alertness was of the body. a bony face, with a high narrow forehead and steel-blue inexpressive eyes, suggested a barrenness of mind. "it gave me trouble during the winter," replied sutch. "but that was to be expected." general feversham nodded, and for a little while both men were silent. from the terrace the ground fell steeply to a wide level plain of brown earth and emerald fields and dark clumps of trees. from this plain voices rose through the sunshine, small but very clear. far away toward horsham a coil of white smoke from a train snaked rapidly in and out amongst the trees; and on the horizon rose the downs, patched with white chalk. "i thought that i should find you here," said sutch. "it was my wife's favourite corner," answered feversham in a quite emotionless voice. "she would sit here by the hour. she had a queer liking for wide and empty spaces." "yes," said sutch. "she had imagination. her thoughts could people them." general feversham glanced at his companion as though he hardly understood. but he asked no questions. what he did not understand he habitually let slip from his mind as not worth comprehension. he spoke at once upon a different topic. "there will be a leaf out of our table to-night." "yes. collins, barberton, and vaughan went this winter. well, we are all permanently shelved upon the world's half-pay list as it is. the obituary column is just the last formality which gazettes us out of the service altogether," and sutch stretched out and eased his crippled leg, which fourteen years ago that day had been crushed and twisted in the fall of a scaling-ladder. "i am glad that you came before the others," continued feversham. "i would like to take your opinion. this day is more to me than the anniversary of our attack upon the redan. at the very moment when we were standing under arms in the dark--" "to the west of the quarries; i remember," interrupted sutch, with a deep breath. "how should one forget?" "at that very moment harry was born in this house. i thought, therefore, that if you did not object, he might join us to-night. he happens to be at home. he will, of course, enter the service, and he might learn something, perhaps, which afterward will be of use--one never knows." "by all means," said sutch, with alacrity. for since his visits to general feversham were limited to the occasion of these anniversary dinners, he had never yet seen harry feversham. sutch had for many years been puzzled as to the qualities in general feversham which had attracted muriel graham, a woman as remarkable for the refinement of her intellect as for the beauty of her person; and he could never find an explanation. he had to be content with his knowledge that for some mysterious reason she had married this man so much older than herself and so unlike to her in character. personal courage and an indomitable self-confidence were the chief, indeed the only, qualities which sprang to light in general feversham. lieutenant sutch went back in thought over twenty years, as he sat on his garden-chair, to a time before he had taken part, as an officer of the naval brigade, in that unsuccessful onslaught on the redan. he remembered a season in london to which he had come fresh from the china station; and he was curious to see harry feversham. he did not admit that it was more than the natural curiosity of a man who, disabled in comparative youth, had made a hobby out of the study of human nature. he was interested to see whether the lad took after his mother or his father--that was all. so that night harry feversham took a place at the dinner-table and listened to the stories which his elders told, while lieutenant sutch watched him. the stories were all of that dark winter in the crimea, and a fresh story was always in the telling before its predecessor was ended. they were stories of death, of hazardous exploits, of the pinch of famine, and the chill of snow. but they were told in clipped words and with a matter-of-fact tone, as though the men who related them were only conscious of them as far-off things; and there was seldom a comment more pronounced than a mere "that's curious," or an exclamation more significant than a laugh. but harry feversham sat listening as though the incidents thus carelessly narrated were happening actually at that moment and within the walls of that room. his dark eyes--the eyes of his mother--turned with each story from speaker to speaker, and waited, wide open and fixed, until the last word was spoken. he listened fascinated and enthralled. and so vividly did the changes of expression shoot and quiver across his face, that it seemed to sutch the lad must actually hear the drone of bullets in the air, actually resist the stunning shock of a charge, actually ride down in the thick of a squadron to where guns screeched out a tongue of flame from a fog. once a major of artillery spoke of the suspense of the hours between the parading of the troops before a battle and the first command to advance; and harry's shoulders worked under the intolerable strain of those lagging minutes. but he did more than work his shoulders. he threw a single furtive, wavering glance backwards; and lieutenant sutch was startled, and indeed more than startled,--he was pained. for this after all was muriel graham's boy. the look was too familiar a one to sutch. he had seen it on the faces of recruits during their first experience of a battle too often for him to misunderstand it. and one picture in particular rose before his mind,--an advancing square at inkermann, and a tall big soldier rushing forward from the line in the eagerness of his attack, and then stopping suddenly as though he suddenly understood that he was alone, and had to meet alone the charge of a mounted cossack. sutch remembered very clearly the fatal wavering glance which the big soldier had thrown backward toward his companions,--a glance accompanied by a queer sickly smile. he remembered too, with equal vividness, its consequence. for though the soldier carried a loaded musket and a bayonet locked to the muzzle, he had without an effort of self-defence received the cossack's lance-thrust in his throat. sutch glanced hurriedly about the table, afraid that general feversham, or that some one of his guests, should have remarked the same look and the same smile upon harry's face. but no one had eyes for the lad; each visitor was waiting too eagerly for an opportunity to tell a story of his own. sutch drew a breath of relief and turned to harry. but the boy was sitting with his elbows on the cloth and his head propped between his hands, lost to the glare of the room and its glitter of silver, constructing again out of the swift succession of anecdotes a world of cries and wounds, and maddened riderless chargers and men writhing in a fog of cannon-smoke. the curtest, least graphic description of the biting days and nights in the trenches set the lad shivering. even his face grew pinched, as though the iron frost of that winter was actually eating into his bones. sutch touched him lightly on the elbow. "you renew those days for me," said he. "though the heat is dripping down the windows, i feel the chill of the crimea." harry roused himself from his absorption. "the stories renew them," said he. "no. it is you listening to the stories." and before harry could reply, general feversham's voice broke sharply in from the head of the table:-- "harry, look at the clock!" at once all eyes were turned upon the lad. the hands of the clock made the acutest of angles. it was close upon midnight; and from eight, without so much as a word or a question, he had sat at the dinner-table listening. yet even now he rose with reluctance. "must i go, father?" he asked, and the general's guests intervened in a chorus. the conversation was clear gain to the lad, a first taste of powder which might stand him in good stead afterwards. "besides, it's the boy's birthday," added the major of artillery. "he wants to stay; that's plain. you wouldn't find a youngster of fourteen sit all these hours without a kick of the foot against the table-leg unless the conversation entertained him. let him stay, feversham!" for once general feversham relaxed the iron discipline under which the boy lived. "very well," said he. "harry shall have an hour's furlough from his bed. a single hour won't make much difference." harry's eyes turned toward his father, and just for a moment rested upon his face with a curious steady gaze. it seemed to sutch that they uttered a question, and, rightly or wrongly, he interpreted the question into words:-- "are you blind?" but general feversham was already talking to his neighbours, and harry quietly sat down, and again propping his chin upon his hands, listened with all his soul. yet he was not entertained; rather he was enthralled; he sat quiet under the compulsion of a spell. his face became unnaturally white, his eyes unnaturally large, while the flames of the candles shone ever redder and more blurred through a blue haze of tobacco smoke, and the level of the wine grew steadily lower in the decanters. thus half of that one hour's furlough was passed; and then general feversham, himself jogged by the unlucky mention of a name, suddenly blurted out in his jerky fashion:-- "lord wilmington. one of the best names in england, if you please. did you ever see his house in warwickshire? every inch of the ground you would think would have a voice to bid him play the man, if only in remembrance of his fathers.... it seemed incredible and mere camp rumour, but the rumour grew. if it was whispered at the alma, it was spoken aloud at inkermann, it was shouted at balaclava. before sebastopol the hideous thing was proved. wilmington was acting as galloper to his general. i believe upon my soul the general chose him for the duty, so that the fellow might set himself right. there were three hundred yards of bullet-swept flat ground, and a message to be carried across them. had wilmington toppled off his horse on the way, why, there were the whispers silenced for ever. had he ridden through alive he earned distinction besides. but he didn't dare; he refused! imagine it if you can! he sat shaking on his horse and declined. you should have seen the general. his face turned the colour of that burgundy. 'no doubt you have a previous engagement,' he said, in the politest voice you ever heard--just that, not a word of abuse. a previous engagement on the battlefield! for the life of me, i could hardly help laughing. but it was a tragic business for wilmington. he was broken, of course, and slunk back to london. every house was closed to him; he dropped out of his circle like a lead bullet you let slip out of your hand into the sea. the very women in piccadilly spat if he spoke to them; and he blew his brains out in a back bedroom off the haymarket. curious that, eh? he hadn't the pluck to face the bullets when his name was at stake, yet he could blow his own brains out afterwards." lieutenant sutch chanced to look at the clock as the story came to an end. it was now a quarter to one. harry feversham had still a quarter of an hour's furlough, and that quarter of an hour was occupied by a retired surgeon-general with a great wagging beard, who sat nearly opposite to the boy. "i can tell you an incident still more curious," he said. "the man in this case had never been under fire before, but he was of my own profession. life and death were part of his business. nor was he really in any particular danger. the affair happened during a hill campaign in india. we were encamped in a valley, and a few pathans used to lie out on the hillside at night and take long shots into the camp. a bullet ripped through the canvas of the hospital tent--that was all. the surgeon crept out to his own quarters, and his orderly discovered him half-an-hour afterward lying in his blood stone-dead." "hit?" exclaimed the major. "not a bit of it," said the surgeon. "he had quietly opened his instrument-case in the dark, taken out a lancet, and severed his femoral artery. sheer panic, do you see, at the whistle of a bullet." even upon these men, case-hardened to horrors, the incident related in its bald simplicity wrought its effect. from some there broke a half-uttered exclamation of disbelief; others moved restlessly in their chairs with a sort of physical discomfort, because a man had sunk so far below humanity. here an officer gulped his wine, there a second shook his shoulders as though to shake the knowledge off as a dog shakes water. there was only one in all that company who sat perfectly still in the silence which followed upon the story. that one was the boy, harry feversham. he sat with his hands now clenched upon his knees and leaning forward a little across the table toward the surgeon, his cheeks white as paper, his eyes burning, and burning with ferocity. he had the look of a dangerous animal in the trap. his body was gathered, his muscles taut. sutch had a fear that the lad meant to leap across the table and strike with all his strength in the savagery of despair. he had indeed reached out a restraining hand when general feversham's matter-of-fact voice intervened, and the boy's attitude suddenly relaxed. "queer incomprehensible things happen. here are two of them. you can only say they are the truth and pray god you may forget 'em. but you can't explain, for you can't understand." sutch was moved to lay his hand upon harry's shoulder. "can you?" he asked, and regretted the question almost before it was spoken. but it was spoken, and harry's eyes turned swiftly toward sutch, and rested upon his face, not, however, with any betrayal of guilt, but quietly, inscrutably. nor did he answer the question, although it was answered in a fashion by general feversham. "harry understand!" exclaimed the general, with a snort of indignation. "how should he? he's a feversham." the question, which harry's glance had mutely put before, sutch in the same mute way repeated. "are you blind?" his eyes asked of general feversham. never had he heard an untruth so demonstrably untrue. a mere look at the father and the son proved it so. harry feversham wore his father's name, but he had his mother's dark and haunted eyes, his mother's breadth of forehead, his mother's delicacy of profile, his mother's imagination. it needed perhaps a stranger to recognise the truth. the father had been so long familiar with his son's aspect that it had no significance to his mind. "look at the clock, harry." the hour's furlough had run out. harry rose from his chair, and drew a breath. "good night, sir," he said, and walked to the door. the servants had long since gone to bed; and, as harry opened the door, the hall gaped black like the mouth of night. for a second or two the boy hesitated upon the threshold, and seemed almost to shrink back into the lighted room as though in that dark void peril awaited him. and peril did--the peril of his thoughts. he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. the decanter was sent again upon its rounds; there was a popping of soda-water bottles; the talk revolved again in its accustomed groove. harry was in an instant forgotten by all but sutch. the lieutenant, although he prided himself upon his impartial and disinterested study of human nature, was the kindliest of men. he had more kindliness than observation by a great deal. moreover, there were special reasons which caused him to take an interest in harry feversham. he sat for a little while with the air of a man profoundly disturbed. then, acting upon an impulse, he went to the door, opened it noiselessly, as noiselessly passed out, and, without so much as a click of the latch, closed the door behind him. and this is what he saw: harry feversham, holding in the centre of the hall a lighted candle high above his head, and looking up toward the portraits of the fevershams as they mounted the walls and were lost in the darkness of the roof. a muffled sound of voices came from the other side of the door panels, but the hall itself was silent. harry stood remarkably still, and the only thing which moved at all was the yellow flame of the candle as it flickered apparently in some faint draught. the light wavered across the portraits, glowing here upon a red coat, glittering there upon a corselet of steel. for there was not one man's portrait upon the walls which did not glisten with the colours of a uniform, and there were the portraits of many men. father and son, the fevershams had been soldiers from the very birth of the family. father and son, in lace collars and bucket boots, in ramillies wigs and steel breastplates, in velvet coats, with powder on their hair, in shakos and swallow-tails, in high stocks and frogged coats, they looked down upon this last feversham, summoning him to the like service. they were men of one stamp; no distinction of uniform could obscure their relationship--lean-faced men, hard as iron, rugged in feature, thin-lipped, with firm chins and straight, level mouths, narrow foreheads, and the steel-blue inexpressive eyes; men of courage and resolution, no doubt, but without subtleties, or nerves, or that burdensome gift of imagination; sturdy men, a little wanting in delicacy, hardly conspicuous for intellect; to put it frankly, men rather stupid--all of them, in a word, first-class fighting men, but not one of them a first-class soldier. but harry feversham plainly saw none of their defects. to him they were one and all portentous and terrible. he stood before them in the attitude of a criminal before his judges, reading his condemnation in their cold unchanging eyes. lieutenant sutch understood more clearly why the flame of the candle flickered. there was no draught in the hall, but the boy's hand shook. and finally, as though he heard the mute voices of his judges delivering sentence and admitted its justice, he actually bowed to the portraits on the wall. as he raised his head, he saw lieutenant sutch in the embrasure of the doorway. he did not start, he uttered no word; he let his eyes quietly rest upon sutch and waited. of the two it was the man who was embarrassed. "harry," he said, and in spite of his embarrassment he had the tact to use the tone and the language of one addressing not a boy, but a comrade equal in years, "we meet for the first time to-night. but i knew your mother a long time ago. i like to think that i have the right to call her by that much misused word 'friend.' have you anything to tell me?" "nothing," said harry. "the mere telling sometimes lightens a trouble." "it is kind of you. there is nothing." lieutenant sutch was rather at a loss. the lad's loneliness made a strong appeal to him. for lonely the boy could not but be, set apart as he was, no less unmistakably in mind as in feature, from his father and his father's fathers. yet what more could he do? his tact again came to his aid. he took his card-case from his pocket. "you will find my address upon this card. perhaps some day you will give me a few days of your company. i can offer you on my side a day or two's hunting." a spasm of pain shook for a fleeting moment the boy's steady inscrutable face. it passed, however, swiftly as it had come. "thank you, sir," harry monotonously repeated. "you are very kind." "and if ever you want to talk over a difficult question with an older man, i am at your service." he spoke purposely in a formal voice, lest harry with a boy's sensitiveness should think he laughed. harry took the card and repeated his thanks. then he went upstairs to bed. lieutenant sutch waited uncomfortably in the hall until the light of the candle had diminished and disappeared. something was amiss, he was very sure. there were words which he should have spoken to the boy, but he had not known how to set about the task. he returned to the dining room, and with a feeling that he was almost repairing his omissions, he filled his glass and called for silence. "gentlemen," he said, "this is june th," and there was great applause and much rapping on the table. "it is the anniversary of our attack upon the redan. it is also harry feversham's birthday. for us, our work is done. i ask you to drink the health of one of the youngsters who are ousting us. his work lies before him. the traditions of the feversham family are very well known to us. may harry feversham carry them on! may he add distinction to a distinguished name!" at once all that company was on its feet. "harry feversham!" the name was shouted with so hearty a good-will that the glasses on the table rang. "harry feversham, harry feversham," the cry was repeated and repeated, while old general feversham sat in his chair with a face aflush with pride. and a boy a minute afterward in a room high up in the house heard the muffled words of a chorus-- for he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow, and so say all of us, and believed the guests upon this crimean night were drinking his father's health. he turned over in his bed and lay shivering. he saw in his mind a broken officer slinking at night in the shadows of the london streets. he pushed back the flap of a tent and stooped over a man lying stone-dead in his blood, with an open lancet clinched in his right hand. and he saw that the face of the broken officer and the face of the dead surgeon were one--and that one face, the face of harry feversham. chapter ii captain trench and a telegram thirteen years later, and in the same month of june, harry feversham's health was drunk again, but after a quieter fashion and in a smaller company. the company was gathered in a room high up in a shapeless block of buildings which frowns like a fortress above westminster. a stranger crossing st. james's park southwards, over the suspension bridge, at night, who chanced to lift his eyes and see suddenly the tiers of lighted windows towering above him to so precipitous a height, might be brought to a stop with the fancy that here in the heart of london was a mountain and the gnomes at work. upon the tenth floor of this building harry had taken a flat during his year's furlough from his regiment in india; and it was in the dining room of this flat that the simple ceremony took place. the room was furnished in a dark and restful fashion; and since the chill of the weather belied the calendar, a comfortable fire blazed in the hearth. a bay window, over which the blinds had not been lowered, commanded london. there were four men smoking about the dinner-table. harry feversham was unchanged, except for a fair moustache, which contrasted with his dark hair, and the natural consequences of growth. he was now a man of middle height, long-limbed, and well-knit like an athlete, but his features had not altered since that night when they had been so closely scrutinised by lieutenant sutch. of his companions two were brother-officers on leave in england, like himself, whom he had that afternoon picked up at his club,--captain trench, a small man, growing bald, with a small, sharp, resourceful face and black eyes of a remarkable activity, and lieutenant willoughby, an officer of quite a different stamp. a round forehead, a thick snub nose, and a pair of vacant and protruding eyes gave to him an aspect of invincible stupidity. he spoke but seldom, and never to the point, but rather to some point long forgotten which he had since been laboriously revolving in his mind; and he continually twisted a moustache, of which the ends curled up toward his eyes with a ridiculous ferocity,--a man whom one would dismiss from mind as of no consequence upon a first thought, and take again into one's consideration upon a second. for he was born stubborn as well as stupid; and the harm which his stupidity might do, his stubbornness would hinder him from admitting. he was not a man to be persuaded; having few ideas, he clung to them. it was no use to argue with him, for he did not hear the argument, but behind his vacant eyes all the while he turned over his crippled thoughts and was satisfied. the fourth at the table was durrance, a lieutenant of the east surrey regiment, and feversham's friend, who had come in answer to a telegram. this was june of the year , and the thoughts of civilians turned toward egypt with anxiety; those of soldiers, with an eager anticipation. arabi pasha, in spite of threats, was steadily strengthening the fortifications of alexandria, and already a long way to the south, the other, the great danger, was swelling like a thunder-cloud. a year had passed since a young, slight, and tall dongolawi, mohammed ahmed, had marched through the villages of the white nile, preaching with the fire of a wesley the coming of a saviour. the passionate victims of the turkish tax-gatherer had listened, had heard the promise repeated in the whispers of the wind in the withered grass, had found the holy names imprinted even upon the eggs they gathered up. in mohammed had declared himself that saviour, and had won his first battles against the turks. "there will be trouble," said trench, and the sentence was the text on which three of the four men talked. in a rare interval, however, the fourth, harry feversham, spoke upon a different subject. "i am very glad you were all able to dine with me to-night. i telegraphed to castleton as well, an officer of ours," he explained to durrance, "but he was dining with a big man in the war office, and leaves for scotland afterwards, so that he could not come. i have news of a sort." the three men leaned forward, their minds still full of the dominant subject. but it was not about the prospect of war that harry feversham had news to speak. "i only reached london this morning from dublin," he said with a shade of embarrassment. "i have been some weeks in dublin." durrance lifted his eyes from the tablecloth and looked quietly at his friend. "yes?" he asked steadily. "i have come back engaged to be married." durrance lifted his glass to his lips. "well, here's luck to you, harry," he said, and that was all. the wish, indeed, was almost curtly expressed, but there was nothing wanting in it to feversham's ears. the friendship between these two men was not one in which affectionate phrases had any part. there was, in truth, no need of such. both men were securely conscious of it; they estimated it at its true, strong value; it was a helpful instrument, which would not wear out, put into their hands for a hard, lifelong use; but it was not, and never had been, spoken of between them. both men were grateful for it, as for a rare and undeserved gift; yet both knew that it might entail an obligation of sacrifice. but the sacrifices, were they needful, would be made, and they would not be mentioned. it may be, indeed, that the very knowledge of their friendship's strength constrained them to a particular reticence in their words to one another. "thank you, jack!" said feversham. "i am glad of your good wishes. it was you who introduced me to ethne; i cannot forget it." durrance set his glass down without any haste. there followed a moment of silence, during which he sat with his eyes upon the tablecloth, and his hands resting on the table edge. "yes," he said in a level voice. "i did you a good turn then." he seemed on the point of saying more, and doubtful how to say it. but captain trench's sharp, quick, practical voice, a voice which fitted the man who spoke, saved him his pains. "will this make any difference?" asked trench. feversham replaced his cigar between his lips. "you mean, shall i leave the service?" he asked slowly. "i don't know;" and durrance seized the opportunity to rise from the table and cross to the window, where he stood with his back to his companions. feversham took the abrupt movement for a reproach, and spoke to durrance's back, not to trench. "i don't know," he repeated. "it will need thought. there is much to be said. on the one side, of course, there's my father, my career, such as it is. on the other hand, there is her father, dermod eustace." "he wishes you to chuck your commission?" asked willoughby. "he has no doubt the irishman's objection to constituted authority," said trench, with a laugh. "but need you subscribe to it, feversham?" "it is not merely that." it was still to durrance's back that he addressed his excuses. "dermod is old, his estates are going to ruin, and there are other things. you know, jack?" the direct appeal he had to repeat, and even then durrance answered it absently:-- "yes, i know," and he added, like one quoting a catch-word. "if you want any whiskey, rap twice on the floor with your foot. the servants understand." "precisely," said feversham. he continued, carefully weighing his words, and still intently looking across the shoulders of his companions to his friend:-- "besides, there is ethne herself. dermod for once did an appropriate thing when he gave her that name. for she is of her country, and more, of her county. she has the love of it in her bones. i do not think that she could be quite happy in india, or indeed in any place which was not within reach of donegal, the smell of its peat, its streams, and the brown friendliness of its hills. one has to consider that." he waited for an answer, and getting none went on again. durrance, however, had no thought of reproach in his mind. he knew that feversham was speaking,--he wished very much that he would continue to speak for a little while,--but he paid no heed to what was said. he stood looking steadfastly out of the windows. over against him was the glare from pall mall striking upward to the sky, and the chains of light banked one above the other as the town rose northward, and a rumble as of a million carriages was in his ears. at his feet, very far below, lay st. james's park, silent and black, a quiet pool of darkness in the midst of glitter and noise. durrance had a great desire to escape out of this room into its secrecy. but that he could not do without remark. therefore he kept his back turned to his companion, and leaned his forehead against the window, and hoped his friend would continue to talk. for he was face to face with one of the sacrifices which must not be mentioned, and which no sign must betray. feversham did continue, and if durrance did not listen, on the other hand captain trench gave to him his closest attention. but it was evident that harry feversham was giving reasons seriously considered. he was not making excuses, and in the end captain trench was satisfied. "well, i drink to you, feversham," he said, "with all the proper sentiments." "i too, old man," said willoughby, obediently following his senior's lead. thus they drank their comrade's health, and as their empty glasses rattled on the table, there came a knock upon the door. the two officers looked up. durrance turned about from the window. feversham said, "come in;" and his servant brought in to him a telegram. feversham tore open the envelope carelessly, as carelessly read through the telegram, and then sat very still, with his eyes upon the slip of pink paper and his face grown at once extremely grave. thus he sat for an appreciable time, not so much stunned as thoughtful. and in the room there was a complete silence. feversham's three guests averted their eyes. durrance turned again to his window; willoughby twisted his moustache and gazed intently upward at the ceiling; captain trench shifted his chair round and stared into the glowing fire, and each man's attitude expressed a certain suspense. it seemed that sharp upon the heels of feversham's good news calamity had come knocking at the door. "there is no answer," said harry, and fell to silence again. once he raised his head and looked at trench as though he had a mind to speak. but he thought the better of it, and so dropped again to the consideration of this message. and in a moment or two the silence was sharply interrupted, but not by any one of the expectant motionless three men seated within the room. the interruption came from without. from the parade ground of wellington barracks the drums and fifes sounding the tattoo shrilled through the open window with a startling clearness like a sharp summons, and diminished as the band marched away across the gravel and again grew loud. feversham did not change his attitude, but the look upon his face was now that of a man listening, and listening thoughtfully, just as he had read thoughtfully. in the years which followed, that moment was to recur again and again to the recollection of each of harry's three guests. the lighted room, with the bright homely fire, the open window overlooking the myriad lamps of london, harry feversham seated with the telegram spread before him, the drums and fifes calling loudly, and then dwindling to music very small and pretty--music which beckoned where a moment ago it had commanded: all these details made up a picture of which the colours were not to fade by any lapse of time, although its significance was not apprehended now. it was remembered that feversham rose abruptly from his chair, just before the tattoo ceased. he crumpled the telegram loosely in his hands, tossed it into the fire, and then, leaning his back against the chimney-piece and upon one side of the fireplace, said again:-- "i don't know;" as though he had thrust that message, whatever it might be, from his mind, and was summing up in this indefinite way the argument which had gone before. thus that long silence was broken, and a spell was lifted. but the fire took hold upon the telegram and shook it, so that it moved like a thing alive and in pain. it twisted, and part of it unrolled, and for a second lay open and smooth of creases, lit up by the flame and as yet untouched; so that two or three words sprang, as it were, out of a yellow glare of fire and were legible. then the flame seized upon that smooth part too, and in a moment shrivelled it into black tatters. but captain trench was all this while staring into the fire. "you return to dublin, i suppose?" said durrance. he had moved back again into the room. like his companions, he was conscious of an unexplained relief. "to dublin? no; i go to donegal in three weeks' time. there is to be a dance. it is hoped you will come." "i am not sure that i can manage it. there is just a chance, i believe, should trouble come in the east, that i may go out on the staff." the talk thus came round again to the chances of peace and war, and held in that quarter till the boom of the westminster clock told that the hour was eleven. captain trench rose from his seat on the last stroke; willoughby and durrance followed his example. "i shall see you to-morrow," said durrance to feversham. "as usual," replied harry; and his three guests descended from his rooms and walked across the park together. at the corner of pall mall, however, they parted company, durrance mounting st. james's street, while trench and willoughby crossed the road into st. james's square. there trench slipped his arm through willoughby's, to willoughby's surprise, for trench was an undemonstrative man. "you know castleton's address?" he asked. "albemarle street," willoughby answered, and added the number. "he leaves euston at twelve o'clock. it is now ten minutes past eleven. are you curious, willoughby? i confess to curiosity. i am an inquisitive methodical person, and when a man gets a telegram bidding him tell trench something and he tells trench nothing, i am curious as a philosopher to know what that something is! castleton is the only other officer of our regiment in london. it is likely, therefore, that the telegram came from castleton. castleton, too, was dining with a big man from the war office. i think that if we take a hansom to albemarle street, we shall just catch castleton upon his door-step." mr. willoughby, who understood very little of trench's meaning, nevertheless cordially agreed to the proposal. "i think it would be prudent," said he, and he hailed a passing cab. a moment later the two men were driving to albemarle street. chapter iii the last ride together durrance, meanwhile, walked to his lodging alone, remembering a day, now two years since, when by a curious whim of old dermod eustace he had been fetched against his will to the house by the lennon river in donegal, and there, to his surprise, had been made acquainted with dermod's daughter ethne. for she surprised all who had first held speech with the father. durrance had stayed for a night in the house, and through that evening she had played upon her violin, seated with her back toward her audience, as was her custom when she played, lest a look or a gesture should interrupt the concentration of her thoughts. the melodies which she had played rang in his ears now. for the girl possessed the gift of music, and the strings of her violin spoke to the questions of her bow. there was in particular an overture--the melusine overture--which had the very sob of the waves. durrance had listened wondering, for the violin had spoken to him of many things of which the girl who played it could know nothing. it had spoken of long perilous journeys and the faces of strange countries; of the silver way across moonlit seas; of the beckoning voices from the under edges of the desert. it had taken a deeper, a more mysterious tone. it had told of great joys, quite unattainable, and of great griefs too, eternal, and with a sort of nobility by reason of their greatness; and of many unformulated longings beyond the reach of words; but with never a single note of mere complaint. so it had seemed to durrance that night as he had sat listening while ethne's face was turned away. so it seemed to him now when he knew that her face was still to be turned away for all his days. he had drawn a thought from her playing which he was at some pains to keep definite in his mind. the true music cannot complain. therefore it was that as he rode the next morning into the row his blue eyes looked out upon the world from his bronzed face with not a jot less of his usual friendliness. he waited at half-past nine by the clump of lilacs and laburnums at the end of the sand, but harry feversham did not join him that morning, nor indeed for the next three weeks. ever since the two men had graduated from oxford it had been their custom to meet at this spot and hour, when both chanced to be in town, and durrance was puzzled. it seemed to him that he had lost his friend as well. meanwhile, however, the rumours of war grew to a certainty; and when at last feversham kept the tryst, durrance had news. "i told you luck might look my way. well, she has. i go out to egypt on general graham's staff. there's talk we may run down the red sea to suakin afterward." the exhilaration of his voice brought an unmistakable envy into feversham's eyes. it seemed strange to durrance, even at that moment of his good luck, that harry feversham should envy him--strange and rather pleasant. but he interpreted the envy in the light of his own ambitions. "it is rough on you," he said sympathetically, "that your regiment has to stay behind." feversham rode by his friend's side in silence. then, as they came to the chairs beneath the trees, he said:-- "that was expected. the day you dined with me i sent in my papers." "that night?" said durrance, turning in his saddle. "after we had gone?" "yes," said feversham, accepting the correction. he wondered whether it had been intended. but durrance rode silently forward. again harry feversham was conscious of a reproach in his friend's silence, and again he was wrong. for durrance suddenly spoke heartily, and with a laugh. "i remember. you gave us your reasons that night. but for the life of me i can't help wishing that we had been going out together. when do you leave for ireland?" "to-night." "so soon?" they turned their horses and rode westward again down the alley of trees. the morning was still fresh. the limes and chestnuts had lost nothing of their early green, and since the may was late that year, its blossoms still hung delicately white like snow upon the branches and shone red against the dark rhododendrons. the park shimmered in a haze of sunlight, and the distant roar of the streets was as the tumbling of river water. "it is a long time since we bathed in sandford lasher," said durrance. "or froze in the easter vacations in the big snow-gully on great end," returned feversham. both men had the feeling that on this morning a volume in their book of life was ended; and since the volume had been a pleasant one to read, and they did not know whether its successors would sustain its promise, they were looking backward through the leaves before they put it finally away. "you must stay with us, jack, when you come back," said feversham. durrance had schooled himself not to wince, and he did not, even at that anticipatory "us." if his left hand tightened upon the thongs of his reins, the sign could not be detected by his friend. "if i come back," said durrance. "you know my creed. i could never pity a man who died on active service. i would very much like to come by that end myself." it was a quite simple creed, consistent with the simplicity of the man who uttered it. it amounted to no more than this: that to die decently was worth a good many years of life. so that he uttered it without melancholy or any sign of foreboding. even so, however, he had a fear that perhaps his friend might place another interpretation upon the words, and he looked quickly into his face. he only saw again, however, that puzzling look of envy in feversham's eyes. "you see there are worse things which can happen," he continued; "disablement, for instance. clever men could make a shift, perhaps, to put up with it. but what in the world should i do if i had to sit in a chair all my days? it makes me shiver to think of it," and he shook his broad shoulders to unsaddle that fear. "well, this is the last ride. let us gallop," and he let out his horse. feversham followed his example, and side by side they went racing down the sand. at the bottom of the row they stopped, shook hands, and with the curtest of nods parted. feversham rode out of the park, durrance turned back and walked his horse up toward the seats beneath the trees. even as a boy in his home at southpool in devonshire, upon a wooded creek of the salcombe estuary, he had always been conscious of a certain restlessness, a desire to sail down that creek and out over the levels of the sea, a dream of queer outlandish countries and peoples beyond the dark familiar woods. and the restlessness had grown upon him, so that "guessens," even when he had inherited it with its farms and lands, had remained always in his thoughts as a place to come home to rather than an estate to occupy a life. he purposely exaggerated that restlessness now, and purposely set against it words which feversham had spoken and which he knew to be true. ethne eustace would hardly be happy outside her county of donegal. therefore, even had things fallen out differently, as he phrased it, there might have been a clash. perhaps it was as well that harry feversham was to marry ethne--and not another than feversham. thus, at all events, he argued as he rode, until the riders vanished from before his eyes, and the ladies in their coloured frocks beneath the cool of the trees. the trees themselves dwindled to ragged mimosas, the brown sand at his feet spread out in a widening circumference and took the bright colour of honey; and upon the empty sand black stones began to heap themselves shapelessly like coal, and to flash in the sun like mirrors. he was deep in his anticipations of the soudan, when he heard his name called out softly in a woman's voice, and, looking up, found himself close by the rails. "how do you do, mrs. adair?" said he, and he stopped his horse. mrs. adair gave him her hand across the rails. she was durrance's neighbour at southpool, and by a year or two his elder--a tall woman, remarkable for the many shades of her thick brown hair and the peculiar pallor on her face. but at this moment the face had brightened, there was a hint of colour in the cheeks. "i have news for you," said durrance. "two special items. one, harry feversham is to be married." "to whom?" asked the lady, eagerly. "you should know. it was in your house in hill street that harry first met her; and i introduced him. he has been improving the acquaintance in dublin." but mrs. adair already understood; and it was plain that the news was welcome. "ethne eustace!" she cried. "they will be married soon?" "there is nothing to prevent it." "i am glad," and the lady sighed as though with relief. "what is your second item?" "as good as the first. i go out on general graham's staff." mrs. adair was silent. there came a look of anxiety into her eyes, and the colour died out of her face. "you are very glad, i suppose," she said slowly. durrance's voice left her in no doubt. "i should think i was. i go soon, too, and the sooner the better. i will come and dine some night, if i may, before i go." "my husband will be pleased to see you," said mrs. adair, rather coldly. durrance did not notice the coldness, however. he had his own reasons for making the most of the opportunity which had come his way; and he urged his enthusiasm, and laid it bare in words more for his own benefit than with any thought of mrs. adair. indeed, he had always rather a vague impression of the lady. she was handsome in a queer, foreign way not so uncommon along the coasts of devonshire and cornwall, and she had good hair, and was always well dressed. moreover, she was friendly. and at that point durrance's knowledge of her came to an end. perhaps her chief merit in his eyes was that she had made friends with ethne eustace. but he was to become better acquainted with mrs. adair. he rode away from the park with the old regret in his mind that the fortunes of himself and his friend were this morning finally severed. as a fact he had that morning set the strands of a new rope a-weaving which was to bring them together again in a strange and terrible relationship. mrs. adair followed him out of the park, and walked home very thoughtfully. durrance had just one week wherein to provide his equipment and arrange his estate in devonshire. it passed in a continuous hurry of preparation, so that his newspaper lay each day unfolded in his rooms. the general was to travel overland to brindisi; and so on an evening of wind and rain, toward the end of july, durrance stepped from the dover pier into the mail-boat for calais. in spite of the rain and the gloomy night, a small crowd had gathered to give the general a send-off. as the ropes were cast off, a feeble cheer was raised; and before the cheer had ended, durrance found himself beset by a strange illusion. he was leaning upon the bulwarks, idly wondering whether this was his last view of england, and with a wish that some one of his friends had come down to see him go, when it seemed to him suddenly that his wish was answered; for he caught a glimpse of a man standing beneath a gas-lamp, and that man was of the stature and wore the likeness of harry feversham. durrance rubbed his eyes and looked again. but the wind made the tongue of light flicker uncertainly within the glass; the rain, too, blurred the quay. he could only be certain that a man was standing there, he could only vaguely distinguish beneath the lamp the whiteness of a face. it was an illusion, he said to himself. harry feversham was at that moment most likely listening to ethne playing the violin under a clear sky in a high garden of donegal. but even as he was turning from the bulwarks, there came a lull of the wind, the lights burned bright and steady on the pier, and the face leaped from the shadows distinct in feature and expression. durrance leaned out over the side of the boat. "harry!" he shouted, at the top of a wondering voice. but the figure beneath the lamp never stirred. the wind blew the lights again this way and that, the paddles churned the water, the mail-boat passed beyond the pier. it was an illusion, he repeated; it was a coincidence. it was the face of a stranger very like to harry feversham's. it could not be feversham's, because the face which durrance had seen so distinctly for a moment was a haggard, wistful face--a face stamped with an extraordinary misery; the face of a man cast out from among his fellows. durrance had been very busy all that week. he had clean forgotten the arrival of that telegram and the suspense which the long perusal of it had caused. moreover, his newspaper had lain unfolded in his rooms. but his friend harry feversham had come to see him off. chapter iv the ball at lennon house yet feversham had travelled to dublin by the night mail after his ride with durrance in the row. he had crossed lough swilly on the following fore-noon by a little cargo steamer, which once a week steamed up the lennon river as far as ramelton. on the quay-side ethne was waiting for him in her dog-cart; she gave him the hand and the smile of a comrade. "you are surprised to see me," said she, noting the look upon his face. "i always am," he replied. "for always you exceed my thoughts of you;" and the smile changed upon her face--it became something more than the smile of a comrade. "i shall drive slowly," she said, as soon as his traps had been packed into the cart; "i brought no groom on purpose. there will be guests coming to-morrow. we have only to-day." she drove along the wide causeway by the riverside, and turned up the steep, narrow street. feversham sat silently by her side. it was his first visit to ramelton, and he gazed about him, noting the dark thicket of tall trees which climbed on the far side of the river, the old grey bridge, the noise of the water above it as it sang over shallows, and the drowsy quiet of the town, with a great curiosity and almost a pride of ownership, since it was here that ethne lived, and all these things were part and parcel of her life. she was at that time a girl of twenty-one, tall, strong, and supple of limb, and with a squareness of shoulder proportionate to her height. she had none of that exaggerated slope which our grandmothers esteemed, yet she lacked no grace of womanhood on that account, and in her walk she was light-footed as a deer. her hair was dark brown, and she wore it coiled upon the nape of her neck; a bright colour burned in her cheeks, and her eyes, of a very clear grey, met the eyes of those to whom she talked with a most engaging frankness. and in character she was the counterpart of her looks. she was honest; she had a certain simplicity, the straightforward simplicity of strength which comprises much gentleness and excludes violence. of her courage there is a story still told in ramelton, which feversham could never remember without a thrill of wonder. she had stopped at a door on that steep hill leading down to the river, and the horse which she was driving took fright at the mere clatter of a pail and bolted. the reins were lying loose at the moment; they fell on the ground before ethne could seize them. she was thus seated helpless in the dog-cart, and the horse was tearing down to where the road curves sharply over the bridge. the thing which she did, she did quite coolly. she climbed over the front of the dog-cart as it pitched and raced down the hill, and balancing herself along the shafts, reached the reins at the horse's neck, and brought the horse to a stop ten yards from the curve. but she had, too, the defects of her qualities, although feversham was not yet aware of them. ethne during the first part of this drive was almost as silent as her companion; and when she spoke, it was with an absent air, as though she had something of more importance in her thoughts. it was not until she had left the town and was out upon the straight, undulating road to letterkenny that she turned quickly to feversham and uttered it. "i saw this morning that your regiment was ordered from india to egypt. you could have gone with it, had i not come in your way. there would have been chances of distinction. i have hindered you, and i am very sorry. of course, you could not know that there was any possibility of your regiment going, but i can understand it is very hard for you to be left behind. i blame myself." feversham sat staring in front of him for a moment. then he said, in a voice suddenly grown hoarse:-- "you need not." "how can i help it? i blame myself the more," she continued, "because i do not see things quite like other women. for instance, supposing that you had gone to egypt, and that the worst had happened, i should have felt very lonely, of course, all my days, but i should have known quite surely that when those days were over, you and i would see much of one another." she spoke without any impressive lowering of the voice, but in the steady, level tone of one stating the simplest imaginable fact. feversham caught his breath like a man in pain. but the girl's eyes were upon his face, and he sat still, staring in front of him without so much as a contraction of the forehead. but it seemed that he could not trust himself to answer. he kept his lips closed, and ethne continued:-- "you see i can put up with the absence of the people i care about, a little better perhaps than most people. i do not feel that i have lost them at all," and she cast about for a while as if her thought was difficult to express. "you know how things happen," she resumed. "one goes along in a dull sort of way, and then suddenly a face springs out from the crowd of one's acquaintances, and you know it at once and certainly for the face of a friend, or rather you recognise it, though you have never seen it before. it is almost as though you had come upon some one long looked for and now gladly recovered. well, such friends--they are few, no doubt, but after all only the few really count--such friends one does not lose, whether they are absent, or even--dead." "unless," said feversham, slowly, "one has made a mistake. suppose the face in the crowd is a mask, what then? one may make mistakes." ethne shook her head decidedly. "of that kind, no. one may seem to have made mistakes, and perhaps for a long while. but in the end one would be proved not to have made them." and the girl's implicit faith took hold upon the man and tortured him, so that he could no longer keep silence. "ethne," he cried, "you don't know--" but at that moment ethne reined in her horse, laughed, and pointed with her whip. they had come to the top of a hill a couple of miles from ramelton. the road ran between stone walls enclosing open fields upon the left, and a wood of oaks and beeches on the right. a scarlet letter-box was built into the left-hand wall, and at that ethne's whip was pointed. "i wanted to show you that," she interrupted. "it was there i used to post my letters to you during the anxious times." and so feversham let slip his opportunity of speech. "the house is behind the trees to the right," she continued. "the letter-box is very convenient," said feversham. "yes," said ethne, and she drove on and stopped again where the park wall had crumbled. "that's where i used to climb over to post the letters. there's a tree on the other side of the wall as convenient as the letter-box. i used to run down the half-mile of avenue at night." "there might have been thieves," exclaimed feversham. "there were thorns," said ethne, and turning through the gates she drove up to the porch of the long, irregular grey house. "well, we have still a day before the dance." "i suppose the whole country-side is coming," said feversham. "it daren't do anything else," said ethne, with a laugh. "my father would send the police to fetch them if they stayed away, just as he fetched your friend mr. durrance here. by the way, mr. durrance has sent me a present--a guarnerius violin." the door opened, and a thin, lank old man, with a fierce peaked face like a bird of prey, came out upon the steps. his face softened, however, into friendliness when he saw feversham, and a smile played upon his lips. a stranger might have thought that he winked. but his left eyelid continually drooped over the eye. "how do you do?" he said. "glad to see you. must make yourself at home. if you want any whiskey, stamp twice on the floor with your foot. the servants understand," and with that he went straightway back into the house. * * * * * the biographer of dermod eustace would need to bring a wary mind to his work. for though the old master of lennon house has not lain twenty years in his grave, he is already swollen into a legendary character. anecdotes have grown upon his memory like barnacles, and any man in those parts with a knack of invention has only to foist his stories upon dermod to ensure a ready credence. there are, however, definite facts. he practised an ancient and tyrannous hospitality, keeping open house upon the road to letterkenny, and forcing bed and board even upon strangers, as durrance had once discovered. he was a man of another century, who looked out with a glowering, angry eye upon a topsy-turvy world, and would not be reconciled to it except after much alcohol. he was a sort of intoxicated coriolanus, believing that the people should be shepherded with a stick, yet always mindful of his manners, even to the lowliest of women. it was said of him with pride by the townsfolk of ramelton, that even at his worst, when he came galloping down the steep cobbled streets, mounted on a big white mare of seventeen hands, with his inseparable collie dog for his companion,--a gaunt, grey-faced, grey-haired man, with a drooping eye, swaying with drink, yet by a miracle keeping his saddle,--he had never ridden down any one except a man. there are two points to be added. he was rather afraid of his daughter, who wisely kept him doubtful whether she was displeased with him or not, and he had conceived a great liking for harry feversham. harry saw little of him that day, however. dermod retired into the room which he was pleased to call his office, while feversham and ethne spent the afternoon fishing for salmon in the lennon river. it was an afternoon restful as a sabbath, and the very birds were still. from the house the lawns fell steeply, shaded by trees and dappled by the sunlight, to a valley, at the bottom of which flowed the river swift and black under overarching boughs. there was a fall, where the water slid over rocks with a smoothness so unbroken that it looked solid except just at one point. there a spur stood sharply up, and the river broke back upon itself in an amber wave through which the sun shone. opposite this spur they sat for a long while, talking at times, but for the most part listening to the roar of the water and watching its perpetual flow. and at last the sunset came, and the long shadows. they stood up, looked at each other with a smile, and so walked slowly back to the house. it was an afternoon which feversham was long to remember; for the next night was the night of the dance, and as the band struck up the opening bars of the fourth waltz, ethne left her position at the drawing-room door, and taking feversham's arm passed out into the hall. the hall was empty, and the front door stood open to the cool of the summer night. from the ballroom came the swaying lilt of the music and the beat of the dancers' feet. ethne drew a breath of relief at her reprieve from her duties, and then dropping her partner's arm, crossed to a side table. "the post is in," she said. "there are letters, one, two, three, for you, and a little box." she held the box out to him as she spoke,--a little white jeweller's cardboard box,--and was at once struck by its absence of weight. "it must be empty," she said. yet it was most carefully sealed and tied. feversham broke the seals and unfastened the string. he looked at the address. the box had been forwarded from his lodgings, and he was not familiar with the handwriting. "there is some mistake," he said as he shook the lid open, and then he stopped abruptly. three white feathers fluttered out of the box, swayed and rocked for a moment in the air, and then, one after another, settled gently down upon the floor. they lay like flakes of snow upon the dark polished boards. but they were not whiter than harry feversham's cheeks. he stood and stared at the feathers until he felt a light touch upon his arm. he looked and saw ethne's gloved hand upon his sleeve. "what does it mean?" she asked. there was some perplexity in her voice, but nothing more than perplexity. the smile upon her face and the loyal confidence in her eyes showed she had never a doubt that his first word would lift it from her. "what does it mean?" "that there are things which cannot be hid, i suppose," said feversham. for a little while ethne did not speak. the languorous music floated into the hall, and the trees whispered from the garden through the open door. then she shook his arm gently, uttered a breathless little laugh, and spoke as though she were pleading with a child. "i don't think you understand, harry. here are three white feathers. they were sent to you in jest? oh, of course in jest. but it is a cruel kind of jest--" "they were sent in deadly earnest." he spoke now, looking her straight in the eyes. ethne dropped her hand from his sleeve. "who sent them?" she asked. feversham had not given a thought to that matter. the message was all in all, the men who had sent it so unimportant. but ethne reached out her hand and took the box from him. there were three visiting cards lying at the bottom, and she took them out and read them aloud. "captain trench, mr. castleton, mr. willoughby. do you know these men?" "all three are officers of my old regiment." the girl was dazed. she knelt down upon the floor and gathered the feathers into her hand with a vague thought that merely to touch them would help her to comprehension. they lay upon the palm of her white glove, and she blew gently upon them, and they swam up into the air and hung fluttering and rocking. as they floated downward she caught them again, and so she slowly felt her way to another question. "were they justly sent?" she asked. "yes," said harry feversham. he had no thought of denial or evasion. he was only aware that the dreadful thing for so many years dreadfully anticipated had at last befallen him. he was known for a coward. the word which had long blazed upon the wall of his thoughts in letters of fire was now written large in the public places. he stood as he had once stood before the portraits of his fathers, mutely accepting condemnation. it was the girl who denied, as she still kneeled upon the floor. "i do not believe that is true," she said. "you could not look me in the face so steadily were it true. your eyes would seek the floor, not mine." "yet it is true." "three little white feathers," she said slowly; and then, with a sob in her throat, "this afternoon we were under the elms down by the lennon river--do you remember, harry?--just you and i. and then come three little white feathers, and the world's at an end." "oh, don't!" cried harry, and his voice broke upon the word. up till now he had spoken with a steadiness matching the steadiness of his eyes. but these last words of hers, the picture which they evoked in his memories, the pathetic simplicity of her utterance, caught him by the heart. but ethne seemed not to hear the appeal. she was listening with her face turned toward the ballroom. the chatter and laughter of the voices there grew louder and nearer. she understood that the music had ceased. she rose quickly to her feet, clenching the feathers in her hand, and opened a door. it was the door of her sitting room. "come," she said. harry followed her into the room, and she closed the door, shutting out the noise. "now," she said, "will you tell me, if you please, why the feathers have been sent?" she stood quietly before him; her face was pale, but feversham could not gather from her expression any feeling which she might have beyond a desire and a determination to get at the truth. she spoke, too, with the same quietude. he answered, as he had answered before, directly and to the point, without any attempt at mitigation. "a telegram came. it was sent by castleton. it reached me when captain trench and mr. willoughby were dining with me. it told me that my regiment would be ordered on active service in egypt. castleton was dining with a man likely to know, and i did not question the accuracy of his message. he told me to tell trench. i did not. i thought the matter over with the telegram in front of me. castleton was leaving that night for scotland, and he would go straight from scotland to rejoin the regiment. he would not, therefore, see trench for some weeks at the earliest, and by that time the telegram would very likely be forgotten or its date confused. i did not tell trench. i threw the telegram into the fire, and that night sent in my papers. but trench found out somehow. durrance was at dinner, too,--good god, durrance!" he suddenly broke out. "most likely he knows like the rest." it came upon him as something shocking and strangely new that his friend durrance, who, as he knew very well, had been wont rather to look up to him, in all likelihood counted him a thing of scorn. but he heard ethne speaking. after all, what did it matter whether durrance knew, whether every man knew, from the south pole to the north, since she, ethne, knew? "and is this all?" she asked. "surely it is enough," said he. "i think not," she answered, and she lowered her voice a little as she went on. "we agreed, didn't we, that no foolish misunderstandings should ever come between us? we were to be frank, and to take frankness each from the other without offence. so be frank with me! please!" and she pleaded. "i could, i think, claim it as a right. at all events i ask for it as i shall never ask for anything else in all my life." there was a sort of explanation of his act, harry feversham remembered; but it was so futile when compared with the overwhelming consequence. ethne had unclenched her hands; the three feathers lay before his eyes upon the table. they could not be explained away; he wore "coward" like a blind man's label; besides, he could never make her understand. however, she wished for the explanation and had a right to it; she had been generous in asking for it, with a generosity not very common amongst women. so feversham gathered his wits and explained:-- "all my life i have been afraid that some day i should play the coward, and from the very first i knew that i was destined for the army. i kept my fear to myself. there was no one to whom i could tell it. my mother was dead, and my father--" he stopped for a moment, with a deep intake of the breath. he could see his father, that lonely iron man, sitting at this very moment in his mother's favourite seat upon the terrace, and looking over the moonlit fields toward the sussex downs; he could imagine him dreaming of honours and distinctions worthy of the fevershams to be gained immediately by his son in the egyptian campaign. surely that old man's stern heart would break beneath this blow. the magnitude of the bad thing which he had done, the misery which it would spread, were becoming very clear to harry feversham. he dropped his head between his hands and groaned aloud. "my father," he resumed, "would, nay, could, never have understood. i know him. when danger came his way, it found him ready, but he did not foresee. that was my trouble always,--i foresaw. any peril to be encountered, any risk to be run,--i foresaw them. i foresaw something else besides. my father would talk in his matter-of-fact way of the hours of waiting before the actual commencement of a battle, after the troops had been paraded. the mere anticipation of the suspense and the strain of those hours was a torture to me. i foresaw the possibility of cowardice. then one evening, when my father had his old friends about him on one of his crimean nights, two dreadful stories were told--one of an officer, the other of a surgeon, who had both shirked. i was now confronted with the fact of cowardice. i took those stories up to bed with me. they never left my memory; they became a part of me. i saw myself behaving now as one, now as the other, of those two men had behaved, perhaps in the crisis of a battle bringing ruin upon my country, certainly dishonouring my father and all the dead men whose portraits hung ranged in the hall. i tried to get the best of my fears. i hunted, but with a map of the country-side in my mind. i foresaw every hedge, every pit, every treacherous bank." "yet you rode straight," interrupted ethne. "mr. durrance told me so." "did i?" said feversham, vaguely. "well, perhaps i did, once the hounds were off. durrance never knew what the moments of waiting before the coverts were drawn meant to me! so when this telegram came, i took the chance it seemed to offer and resigned." he ended his explanation. he had spoken warily, having something to conceal. however earnestly she might ask for frankness, he must at all costs, for her sake, hide something from her. but at once she suspected it. "were you afraid, too, of disgracing me? was i in any way the cause that you resigned?" feversham looked her in the eyes and lied:-- "no." "if you had not been engaged to me, you would still have sent in your papers?" "yes." ethne slowly stripped a glove off her hand. feversham turned away. "i think that i am rather like your father," she said. "i don't understand;" and in the silence which followed upon her words feversham heard something whirr and rattle upon the table. he looked and saw that she had slipped her engagement ring off her finger. it lay upon the table, the stones winking at him. "and all this--all that you have told to me," she exclaimed suddenly, with her face very stern, "you would have hidden from me? you would have married me and hidden it, had not these three feathers come?" the words had been on her lips from the beginning, but she had not uttered them lest by a miracle he should after all have some unimagined explanation which would reestablish him in her thoughts. she had given him every chance. now, however, she struck and laid bare the worst of his disloyalty. feversham flinched, and he did not answer but allowed his silence to consent. ethne, however, was just; she was in a way curious too: she wished to know the very bottom of the matter before she thrust it into the back of her mind. "but yesterday," she said, "you were going to tell me something. i stopped you to point out the letter-box," and she laughed in a queer empty way. "was it about the feathers?" "yes," answered feversham, wearily. what did these persistent questions matter, since the feathers had come, since her ring lay flickering and winking on the table? "yes, i think what you were saying rather compelled me." "i remember," said ethne, interrupting him rather hastily, "about seeing much of one another--afterwards. we will not speak of such things again," and feversham swayed upon his feet as though he would fall. "i remember, too, you said one could make mistakes. you were right; i was wrong. one can do more than seem to make them. will you, if you please, take back your ring?" feversham picked up the ring and held it in the palm of his hand, standing very still. he had never cared for her so much, he had never recognised her value so thoroughly, as at this moment when he lost her. she gleamed in the quiet room, wonderful, most wonderful, from the bright flowers in her hair to the white slipper on her foot. it was incredible to him that he should ever have won her. yet he had, and disloyally had lost her. then her voice broke in again upon his reflections. "these, too, are yours. will you take them, please?" she was pointing with her fan to the feathers upon the table. feversham obediently reached out his hand, and then drew it back in surprise. "there are four," he said. ethne did not reply, and looking at her fan feversham understood. it was a fan of ivory and white feathers. she had broken off one of those feathers and added it on her own account to the three. the thing which she had done was cruel, no doubt. but she wished to make an end--a complete, irrevocable end; though her voice was steady and her face, despite its pallor, calm, she was really tortured with humiliation and pain. all the details of harry feversham's courtship, the interchange of looks, the letters she had written and received, the words which had been spoken, tingled and smarted unbearably in her recollections. their lips had touched--she recalled it with horror. she desired never to see harry feversham after this night. therefore she added her fourth feather to the three. harry feversham took the feathers as she bade him, without a word of remonstrance, and indeed with a sort of dignity which even at that moment surprised her. all the time, too, he had kept his eyes steadily upon hers, he had answered her questions simply, there had been nothing abject in his manner; so that ethne already began to regret this last thing which she had done. however, it _was_ done. feversham had taken the four feathers. he held them in his fingers as though he was about to tear them across. but he checked the action. he looked suddenly towards her, and kept his eyes upon her face for some little while. then very carefully he put the feathers into his breast pocket. ethne at this time did not consider why. she only thought that here was the irrevocable end. "we should be going back, i think," she said. "we have been some time away. will you give me your arm?" in the hall she looked at the clock. "only eleven o'clock," she said wearily. "when we dance here, we dance till daylight. we must show brave faces until daylight." and with her hand resting upon his arm, they passed into the ballroom. chapter v the pariah habit assisted them; the irresponsible chatter of the ballroom sprang automatically to their lips; the appearance of enjoyment never failed from off their faces; so that no one at lennon house that night suspected that any swift cause of severance had come between them. harry feversham watched ethne laugh and talk as though she had never a care, and was perpetually surprised, taking no thought that he wore the like mask of gaiety himself. when she swung past him the light rhythm of her feet almost persuaded him that her heart was in the dance. it seemed that she could even command the colour upon her cheeks. thus they both wore brave faces as she had bidden. they even danced together. but all the while ethne was conscious that she was holding up a great load of pain and humiliation which would presently crush her, and feversham felt those four feathers burning at his breast. it was wonderful to him that the whole company did not know of them. he never approached a partner without the notion that she would turn upon him with the contemptuous name which was his upon her tongue. yet he felt no fear on that account. he would not indeed have cared had it happened, had the word been spoken. he had lost ethne. he watched her and looked in vain amongst her guests, as indeed he surely knew he would, for a fit comparison. there were women, pretty, graceful, even beautiful, but ethne stood apart by the particular character of her beauty. the broad forehead, the perfect curve of the eyebrows, the great steady, clear, grey eyes, the full red lips which could dimple into tenderness and shut level with resolution, and the royal grace of her carriage, marked her out to feversham's thinking, and would do so in any company. he watched her in a despairing amazement that he had ever had a chance of owning her. only once did her endurance fail, and then only for a second. she was dancing with feversham, and as she looked toward the windows she saw that the daylight was beginning to show very pale and cold upon the other side of the blinds. "look!" she said, and feversham suddenly felt all her weight upon his arms. her face lost its colour and grew tired and very grey. her eyes shut tightly and then opened again. he thought that she would faint. "the morning at last!" she exclaimed, and then in a voice as weary as her face, "i wonder whether it is right that one should suffer so much pain." "hush!" whispered feversham. "courage! a few minutes more--only a very few!" he stopped and stood in front of her until her strength returned. "thank you!" she said gratefully, and the bright wheel of the dance caught them in its spokes again. it was strange that he should be exhorting her to courage, she thanking him for help; but the irony of this queer momentary reversal of their position occurred to neither of them. ethne was too tried by the strain of those last hours, and feversham had learned from that one failure of her endurance, from the drawn aspect of her face and the depths of pain in her eyes, how deeply he had wounded her. he no longer said, "i have lost her," he no longer thought of his loss at all. he heard her words, "i wonder whether it is right that one should suffer so much pain." he felt that they would go ringing down the world with him, persistent in his ears, spoken upon the very accent of her voice. he was sure that he would hear them at the end above the voices of any who should stand about him when he died, and hear in them his condemnation. for it was not right. the ball finished shortly afterwards. the last carriage drove away, and those who were staying in the house sought the smoking-room or went upstairs to bed according to their sex. feversham, however, lingered in the hall with ethne. she understood why. "there is no need," she said, standing with her back to him as she lighted a candle, "i have told my father. i told him everything." feversham bowed his head in acquiescence. "still, i must wait and see him," he said. ethne did not object, but she turned and looked at him quickly with her brows drawn in a frown of perplexity. to wait for her father under such circumstances seemed to argue a certain courage. indeed, she herself felt some apprehension as she heard the door of the study open and dermod's footsteps on the floor. dermod walked straight up to harry feversham, looking for once in a way what he was, a very old man, and stood there staring into feversham's face with a muddled and bewildered expression. twice he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. in the end he turned to the table and lit his candle and harry feversham's. then he turned back toward feversham, and rather quickly, so that ethne took a step forward as if to get between them; but he did nothing more than stare at feversham again and for a long time. finally, he took up his candle. "well--" he said, and stopped. he snuffed the wick with the scissors and began again. "well--" he said, and stopped again. apparently his candle had not helped him to any suitable expressions. he stared into the flame now instead of into feversham's face, and for an equal length of time. he could think of nothing whatever to say, and yet he was conscious that something must be said. in the end he said lamely:-- "if you want any whiskey, stamp twice on the floor with your foot. the servants understand." thereupon he walked heavily up the stairs. the old man's forbearance was perhaps not the least part of harry feversham's punishment. * * * * * it was broad daylight when ethne was at last alone within her room. she drew up the blinds and opened the windows wide. the cool fresh air of the morning was as a draught of spring-water to her. she looked out upon a world as yet unillumined by colours and found therein an image of her days to come. the dark, tall trees looked black; the winding paths, a singular dead white; the very lawns were dull and grey, though the dew lay upon them like a network of frost. it was a noisy world, however, for all its aspect of quiet. for the blackbirds were calling from the branches and the grass, and down beneath the overhanging trees the lennon flowed in music between its banks. ethne drew back from the window. she had much to do that morning before she slept. for she designed with her natural thoroughness to make an end at once of all her associations with harry feversham. she wished that from the moment when next she waked she might never come across a single thing which could recall him to her memory. and with a sort of stubborn persistence she went about the work. but she changed her mind. in the very process of collecting together the gifts which he had made to her she changed her mind. for each gift that she looked upon had its history, and the days before this miserable night had darkened on her happiness came one by one slowly back to her as she looked. she determined to keep one thing which had belonged to harry feversham,--a small thing, a thing of no value. at first she chose a penknife, which he had once lent to her and she had forgotten to return. but the next instant she dropped it and rather hurriedly. for she was after all an irish girl, and though she did not believe in superstitions, where superstitions were concerned she preferred to be on the safe side. she selected his photograph in the end and locked it away in a drawer. she gathered the rest of his presents together, packed them carefully in a box, fastened the box, addressed it and carried it down to the hall, that the servants might despatch it in the morning. then coming back to her room she took his letters, made a little pile of them on the hearth and set them alight. they took some while to consume, but she waited, sitting upright in her arm-chair while the flame crept from sheet to sheet, discolouring the paper, blackening the writing like a stream of ink, and leaving in the end only flakes of ashes like feathers, and white flakes like white feathers. the last sparks were barely extinguished when she heard a cautious step on the gravel beneath her window. it was broad daylight, but her candle was still burning on the table at her side, and with a quick instinctive movement she reached out her arm and put the light out. then she sat very still and rigid, listening. for a while she heard only the blackbirds calling from the trees in the garden and the throbbing music of the river. afterward she heard the footsteps again, cautiously retreating; and in spite of her will, in spite of her formal disposal of the letters and the presents, she was mastered all at once, not by pain or humiliation, but by an overpowering sense of loneliness. she seemed to be seated high on an empty world of ruins. she rose quickly from her chair, and her eyes fell upon a violin case. with a sigh of relief she opened it, and a little while after one or two of the guests who were sleeping in the house chanced to wake up and heard floating down the corridors the music of a violin played very lovingly and low. ethne was not aware that the violin which she held was the guarnerius violin which durrance had sent to her. she only understood that she had a companion to share her loneliness. chapter vi harry feversham's plan it was the night of august . a month had passed since the ball at lennon house, but the uneventful country-side of donegal was still busy with the stimulating topic of harry feversham's disappearance. the townsmen in the climbing street and the gentry at their dinner-tables gossiped to their hearts' contentment. it was asserted that harry feversham had been seen on the very morning after the dance, and at five minutes to six--though according to mrs. brien o'brien it was ten minutes past the hour--still in his dress clothes and with a white suicide's face, hurrying along the causeway by the lennon bridge. it was suggested that a drag-net would be the only way to solve the mystery. mr. dennis rafferty, who lived on the road to rathmullen, indeed, went so far as to refuse salmon on the plea that he was not a cannibal, and the saying had a general vogue. their conjectures as to the cause of the disappearance were no nearer to the truth. for there were only two who knew, and those two went steadily about the business of living as though no catastrophe had befallen them. they held their heads a trifle more proudly perhaps. ethne might have become a little more gentle, dermod a little more irascible, but these were the only changes. so gossip had the field to itself. but harry feversham was in london, as lieutenant sutch discovered on the night of the th. all that day the town had been perturbed by rumours of a great battle fought at kassassin in the desert east of ismailia. messengers had raced ceaselessly through the streets, shouting tidings of victory and tidings of disaster. there had been a charge by moonlight of general drury-lowe's cavalry brigade, which had rolled up arabi's left flank and captured his guns. it was rumoured that an english general had been killed, that the york and lancaster regiment had been cut up. london was uneasy, and at eleven o'clock at night a great crowd of people had gathered beneath the gas-lamps in pall mall, watching with pale upturned faces the lighted blinds of the war office. the crowd was silent and impressively still. only if a figure moved for an instant across the blinds, a thrill of expectation passed from man to man, and the crowd swayed in a continuous movement from edge to edge. lieutenant sutch, careful of his wounded leg, was standing on the outskirts, with his back to the parapet of the junior carlton club, when he felt himself touched upon the arm. he saw harry feversham at his side. feversham's face was working and extraordinarily white, his eyes were bright like the eyes of a man in a fever; and sutch at the first was not sure that he knew or cared who it was to whom he talked. "i might have been out there in egypt to-night," said harry, in a quick troubled voice. "think of it! i might have been out there, sitting by a camp-fire in the desert, talking over the battle with jack durrance; or dead perhaps. what would it have mattered? i might have been in egypt to-night!" feversham's unexpected appearance, no less than his wandering tongue, told sutch that somehow his fortunes had gone seriously wrong. he had many questions in his mind, but he did not ask a single one of them. he took feversham's arm and led him straight out of the throng. "i saw you in the crowd," continued feversham. "i thought that i would speak to you, because--do you remember, a long time ago you gave me your card? i have always kept it, because i have always feared that i would have reason to use it. you said that if one was in trouble, the telling might help." sutch stopped his companion. "we will go in here. we can find a quiet corner in the upper smoking-room;" and harry, looking up, saw that he was standing by the steps of the army and navy club. "good god, not there!" he cried in a sharp low voice, and moved quickly into the roadway, where no light fell directly on his face. sutch limped after him. "nor to-night. it is late. to-morrow if you will, in some quiet place, and after nightfall. i do not go out in the daylight." again lieutenant sutch asked no questions. "i know a quiet restaurant," he said. "if we dine there at nine, we shall meet no one whom we know. i will meet you just before nine to-morrow night at the corner of swallow street." they dined together accordingly on the following evening, at a table in the corner of the criterion grill-room. feversham looked quickly about him as he entered the room. "i dine here often when i am in town," said sutch. "listen!" the throbbing of the engines working the electric light could be distinctly heard, their vibrations could be felt. "it reminds me of a ship," said sutch, with a smile. "i can almost fancy myself in the gun-room again. we will have dinner. then you shall tell me your story." "you have heard nothing of it?" asked feversham, suspiciously. "not a word;" and feversham drew a breath of relief. it had seemed to him that every one must know. he imagined contempt on every face which passed him in the street. lieutenant sutch was even more concerned this evening than he had been the night before. he saw harry feversham clearly now in a full light. harry's face was thin and haggard with lack of sleep, there were black hollows beneath his eyes; he drew his breath and made his movements in a restless feverish fashion, his nerves seemed strung to breaking-point. once or twice between the courses he began his story, but sutch would not listen until the cloth was cleared. "now," said he, holding out his cigar-case. "take your time, harry." thereupon feversham told him the whole truth, without exaggeration or omission, forcing himself to a slow, careful, matter-of-fact speech, so that in the end sutch almost fell into the illusion that it was just the story of a stranger which feversham was recounting merely to pass the time. he began with the crimean night at broad place, and ended with the ball at lennon house. "i came back across lough swilly early that morning," he said in conclusion, "and travelled at once to london. since then i have stayed in my rooms all day, listening to the bugles calling in the barrack-yard beneath my windows. at night i prowl about the streets or lie in bed waiting for the westminster clock to sound each new quarter of an hour. on foggy nights, too, i can hear steam-sirens on the river. do you know when the ducks start quacking in st. james's park?" he asked with a laugh. "at two o'clock to the minute." sutch listened to the story without an interruption. but halfway through the narrative he changed his attitude, and in a significant way. up to the moment when harry told of his concealment of the telegram, sutch had sat with his arms upon the table in front of him, and his eyes upon his companion. thereafter he raised a hand to his forehead, and so remained with his face screened while the rest was told. feversham had no doubt of the reason. lieutenant sutch wished to conceal the scorn he felt, and could not trust the muscles of his face. feversham, however, mitigated nothing, but continued steadily and truthfully to the end. but even after the end was reached, sutch did not remove his hand, nor for some little while did he speak. when he did speak, his words came upon feversham's ears with a shock of surprise. there was no contempt in them, and though his voice shook, it shook with a great contrition. "i am much to blame," he said. "i should have spoken that night at broad place, and i held my tongue. i shall hardly forgive myself." the knowledge that it was muriel graham's son who had thus brought ruin and disgrace upon himself was uppermost in the lieutenant's mind. he felt that he had failed in the discharge of an obligation, self-imposed, no doubt, but a very real obligation none the less. "you see, i understood," he continued remorsefully. "your father, i am afraid, never would." "he never will," interrupted harry. "no," sutch agreed. "your mother, of course, had she lived, would have seen clearly; but few women, i think, except your mother. brute courage! women make a god of it. that girl, for instance,"--and again harry feversham interrupted. "you must not blame her. i was defrauding her into marriage." sutch took his hand suddenly from his forehead. "suppose that you had never met her, would you still have sent in your papers?" "i think not," said harry, slowly. "i want to be fair. disgracing my name and those dead men in the hall i think i would have risked. i could not risk disgracing her." and lieutenant sutch thumped his fist despairingly upon the table. "if only i had spoken at broad place. harry, why didn't you let me speak? i might have saved you many unnecessary years of torture. good heavens! what a childhood you must have spent with that fear all alone with you. it makes me shiver to think of it. i might even have saved you from this last catastrophe. for i understood. i understood." lieutenant sutch saw more clearly into the dark places of harry feversham's mind than harry feversham did himself; and because he saw so clearly, he could feel no contempt. the long years of childhood, and boyhood, and youth, lived apart in broad place in the presence of the uncomprehending father and the relentless dead men on the walls, had done the harm. there had been no one in whom the boy could confide. the fear of cowardice had sapped incessantly at his heart. he had walked about with it; he had taken it with him to his bed. it had haunted his dreams. it had been his perpetual menacing companion. it had kept him from intimacy with his friends lest an impulsive word should betray him. lieutenant sutch did not wonder that in the end it had brought about this irretrievable mistake; for lieutenant sutch understood. "did you ever read 'hamlet'?" he asked. "of course," said harry, in reply. "ah, but did you consider it? the same disability is clear in that character. the thing which he foresaw, which he thought over, which he imagined in the act and in the consequence--that he shrank from, upbraiding himself even as you have done. yet when the moment of action comes, sharp and immediate, does he fail? no, he excels, and just by reason of that foresight. i have seen men in the crimea, tortured by their imaginations before the fight--once the fight had begun you must search amongst the oriental fanatics for their match. 'am i a coward?' do you remember the lines? am i a coward? who calls me villain? breaks my pate across? plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face? there's the case in a nutshell. if only i had spoken on that night!" one or two people passed the table on the way out. sutch stopped and looked round the room. it was nearly empty. he glanced at his watch and saw that the hour was eleven. some plan of action must be decided upon that night. it was not enough to hear harry feversham's story. there still remained the question, what was harry feversham, disgraced and ruined, now to do? how was he to re-create his life? how was the secret of his disgrace to be most easily concealed? "you cannot stay in london, hiding by day, slinking about by night," he said with a shiver. "that's too like--" and he checked himself. feversham, however, completed the sentence. "that's too like wilmington," said he, quietly, recalling the story which his father had told so many years ago, and which he had never forgotten, even for a single day. "but wilmington's end will not be mine. of that i can assure you. i shall not stay in london." he spoke with an air of decision. he had indeed mapped out already the plan of action concerning which lieutenant sutch was so disturbed. sutch, however, was occupied with his own thoughts. "who knows of the feathers? how many people?" he asked. "give me their names." "trench, castleton, willoughby," began feversham. "all three are in egypt. besides, for the credit of their regiment they are likely to hold their tongues when they return. who else?" "dermod eustace and--and--ethne." "they will not speak." "you, durrance perhaps, and my father." sutch leaned back in his chair and stared. "your father! you wrote to him?" "no; i went into surrey and told him." again remorse for that occasion, recognised and not used, seized upon lieutenant sutch. "why didn't i speak that night?" he said impotently. "a coward, and you go quietly down to surrey and confront your father with that story to tell to him! you do not even write! you stand up and tell it to him face to face! harry, i reckon myself as good as another when it comes to bravery, but for the life of me i could not have done that." "it was not--pleasant," said feversham, simply; and this was the only description of the interview between father and son which was vouchsafed to any one. but lieutenant sutch knew the father and knew the son. he could guess at all which that one adjective implied. harry feversham told the results of his journey into surrey. "my father continues my allowance. i shall need it, every penny of it--otherwise i should have taken nothing. but i am not to go home again. i did not mean to go home for a long while in any case, if at all." he drew his pocket-book from his breast, and took from it the four white feathers. these he laid before him on the table. "you have kept them?" exclaimed sutch. "indeed, i treasure them," said harry, quietly. "that seems strange to you. to you they are the symbols of my disgrace. to me they are much more. they are my opportunities of retrieving it." he looked about the room, separated three of the feathers, pushed them forward a little on the tablecloth, and then leaned across toward sutch. "what if i could compel trench, castleton, and willoughby to take back from me, each in his turn, the feather he sent? i do not say that it is likely. i do not say even that it is possible. but there is a chance that it may be possible, and i must wait upon that chance. there will be few men leading active lives as these three do who will not at some moment stand in great peril and great need. to be in readiness for that moment is from now my career. all three are in egypt. i leave for egypt to-morrow." upon the face of lieutenant sutch there came a look of great and unexpected happiness. here was an issue of which he had never thought; and it was the only issue, as he knew for certain, once he was aware of it. this student of human nature disregarded without a scruple the prudence and the calculation proper to the character which he assumed. the obstacles in harry feversham's way, the possibility that at the last moment he might shrink again, the improbability that three such opportunities would occur--these matters he overlooked. his eyes already shone with pride; the three feathers for him were already taken back. the prudence was on harry feversham's side. "there are endless difficulties," he said. "just to cite one: i am a civilian, these three are soldiers, surrounded by soldiers; so much the less opportunity therefore for a civilian." "but it is not necessary that the three men should be themselves in peril," objected sutch, "for you to convince them that the fault is retrieved." "oh, no. there may be other ways," agreed feversham. "the plan came suddenly into my mind, indeed at the moment when ethne bade me take up the feathers, and added the fourth. i was on the point of tearing them across when this way out of it sprang clearly up in my mind. but i have thought it over since during these last weeks while i sat listening to the bugles in the barrack-yard. and i am sure there is no other way. but it is well worth trying. you see, if the three take back their feathers,"--he drew a deep breath, and in a very low voice, with his eyes upon the table so that his face was hidden from sutch, he added--"why, then she perhaps might take hers back too." "will she wait, do you think?" asked sutch; and harry raised his head quickly. "oh, no," he exclaimed, "i had no thought of that. she has not even a suspicion of what i intend to do. nor do i wish her to have one until the intention is fulfilled. my thought was different"--and he began to speak with hesitation for the first time in the course of that evening. "i find it difficult to tell you--ethne said something to me the day before the feathers came--something rather sacred. i think that i will tell you, because what she said is just what sends me out upon this errand. but for her words, i would very likely never have thought of it. i find in them my motive and a great hope. they may seem strange to you, mr. sutch; but i ask you to believe that they are very real to me. she said--it was when she knew no more than that my regiment was ordered to egypt--she was blaming herself because i had resigned my commission, for which there was no need, because--and these were her words--because had i fallen, although she would have felt lonely all her life, she would none the less have surely known that she and i would see much of one another--afterwards." feversham had spoken his words with difficulty, not looking at his companion, and he continued with his eyes still averted:-- "do you understand? i have a hope that if--this fault can be repaired,"--and he pointed to the feathers,--"we might still, perhaps, see something of one another--afterwards." it was a strange proposition, no doubt, to be debated across the soiled tablecloth of a public restaurant, but neither of them felt it to be strange or even fanciful. they were dealing with the simple serious issues, and they had reached a point where they could not be affected by any incongruity in their surroundings. lieutenant sutch did not speak for some while after harry feversham had done, and in the end harry looked up at his companion, prepared for almost a word of ridicule; but he saw sutch's right hand outstretched towards him. "when i come back," said feversham, and he rose from his chair. he gathered the feathers together and replaced them in his pocket-book. "i have told you everything," he said. "you see, i wait upon chance opportunities; the three may not come in egypt. they may never come at all, and in that case i shall not come back at all. or they may come only at the very end and after many years. therefore i thought that i would like just one person to know the truth thoroughly in case i do not come back. if you hear definitely that i never can come back, i would be glad if you would tell my father." "i understand," said sutch. "but don't tell him everything--i mean, not the last part, not what i have just said about ethne and my chief motive, for i do not think that he would understand. otherwise you will keep silence altogether. promise!" lieutenant sutch promised, but with an absent face, and feversham consequently insisted. "you will breathe no word of this to man or woman, however hard you may be pressed, except to my father under the circumstances which i have explained," said feversham. lieutenant sutch promised a second time and without an instant's hesitation. it was quite natural that harry should lay some stress upon the pledge, since any disclosure of his purpose might very well wear the appearance of a foolish boast, and sutch himself saw no reason why he should refuse it. so he gave the promise and fettered his hands. his thoughts, indeed, were occupied with the limit harry had set upon the knowledge which was to be imparted to general feversham. even if he died with his mission unfulfilled, sutch was to hide from the father that which was best in the son, at the son's request. and the saddest part of it, to sutch's thinking, was that the son was right in so requesting. for what he said was true--the father could not understand. lieutenant sutch was brought back to the causes of the whole miserable business: the premature death of the mother, who could have understood; the want of comprehension in the father, who was left; and his own silence on the crimean night at broad place. "if only i had spoken," he said sadly. he dropped the end of his cigar into his coffee-cup, and standing up, reached for his hat. "many things are irrevocable, harry," he said, "but one never knows whether they are irrevocable or not until one has found out. it is always worth while finding out." the next evening feversham crossed to calais. it was a night as wild as that on which durrance had left england; and, like durrance, feversham had a friend to see him off, for the last thing which his eyes beheld as the packet swung away from the pier, was the face of lieutenant sutch beneath a gas-lamp. the lieutenant maintained his position after the boat had passed into the darkness and until the throb of its paddles could no longer be heard. then he limped through the rain to his hotel, aware, and regretfully aware, that he was growing old. it was long since he had felt regret on that account, and the feeling was very strange to him. ever since the crimea he had been upon the world's half-pay list, as he had once said to general feversham, and what with that and the recollection of a certain magical season before the crimea, he had looked forward to old age as an approaching friend. to-night, however, he prayed that he might live just long enough to welcome back muriel graham's son with his honour redeemed and his great fault atoned. chapter vii the last reconnaissance "no one," said durrance, and he strapped his field-glasses into the leather case at his side. "no one, sir," captain mather agreed. "we will move forward." the scouts went on ahead, the troops resumed their formation, the two seven-pounder mountain-guns closed up behind, and durrance's detachment of the camel corps moved down from the gloomy ridge of khor gwob, thirty-five miles southwest of suakin, into the plateau of sinkat. it was the last reconnaissance in strength before the evacuation of the eastern soudan. all through that morning the camels had jolted slowly up the gulley of shale between red precipitous rocks, and when the rocks fell back, between red mountain-heaps all crumbled into a desolation of stones. hardly a patch of grass or the ragged branches of a mimosa had broken the monotony of ruin. and after that arid journey the green bushes of sinkat in the valley below comforted the eye with the pleasing aspect of a park. the troopers sat their saddles with a greater alertness. they moved in a diagonal line across the plateau toward the mountains of erkoweet, a silent company on a plain still more silent. it was eleven o'clock. the sun rose toward the centre of a colourless, cloudless sky, the shadows of the camels shortened upon the sand, and the sand itself glistened white as a beach of the scilly islands. there was no draught of air that morning to whisper amongst the rich foliage, and the shadows of the branches lay so distinct and motionless upon the ground that they might themselves have been branches strewn there on some past day by a storm. the only sounds that were audible were the sharp clank of weapons, the soft ceaseless padding of the camels' feet, and at times the whirr of a flight of pigeons disturbed by the approaching cavalcade. yet there was life on the plateau, though of a noiseless kind. for as the leaders rode along the curves of sand, trim and smooth between the shrubs like carriage drives, they would see from time to time, far ahead of them, a herd of gazelle start up from the ground and race silently, a flash of dappled brown and white, to the enclosing hills. it seemed that here was a country during this last hour created. "yet this way the caravans passed southwards to erkoweet and the khor baraka. here the suakis built their summer-houses," said durrance, answering the thought in his mind. "and there tewfik fought, and died with his four hundred men," said mather, pointing forward. for three hours the troops marched across the plateau. it was the month of may, and the sun blazed upon them with an intolerable heat. they had long since lost their alertness. they rode rocking drowsily in their saddles and prayed for the evening and the silver shine of stars. for three hours the camels went mincing on with their queer smirking motions of the head, and then quite suddenly a hundred yards ahead durrance saw a broken wall with window-spaces which let the sky through. "the fort," said he. three years had passed since osman digna had captured and destroyed it, but during these three years its roofless ruins had sustained another siege, and one no less persistent. the quick-growing trees had so closely girt and encroached upon it to the rear and to the right and to the left, that the traveller came upon it unexpectedly, as childe roland upon the dark tower in the plain. in the front, however, the sand still stretched open to the wells, where three great gemeiza trees of dark and spreading foliage stood spaced like sentinels. in the shadow to the right front of the fort, where the bushes fringed the open sand with the level regularity of a river bank, the soldiers unsaddled their camels and prepared their food. durrance and captain mather walked round the fort, and as they came to the southern corner, durrance stopped. "hallo!" said he. "some arab has camped here," said mather, stopping in his turn. the grey ashes of a wood fire lay in a little heap upon a blackened stone. "and lately," said durrance. mather walked on, mounted a few rough steps to the crumbled archway of the entrance, and passed into the unroofed corridors and rooms. durrance turned the ashes over with his boot. the stump of a charred and whitened twig glowed red. durrance set his foot upon it, and a tiny thread of smoke spurted into the air. "very lately," he said to himself, and he followed mather into the fort. in the corners of the mud walls, in any fissure, in the very floor, young trees were sprouting. rearward a steep glacis and a deep fosse defended the works. durrance sat himself down upon the parapet of the wall above the glacis, while the pigeons wheeled and circled overhead, thinking of the long months during which tewfik must daily have strained his eyes from this very spot toward the pass over the hills from suakin, looking as that other general far to the south had done, for the sunlight flashing on the weapons of the help which did not come. mather sat by his side and reflected in quite another spirit. "already the guards are steaming out through the coral reefs toward suez. a week and our turn comes," he said. "what a god-forsaken country!" "i come back to it," said durrance. "why?" "i like it. i like the people." mather thought the taste unaccountable, but he knew nevertheless that, however unaccountable in itself, it accounted for his companion's rapid promotion and success. sympathy had stood durrance in the stead of much ability. sympathy had given him patience and the power to understand, so that during these three years of campaign he had left far quicker and far abler men behind him, in his knowledge of the sorely harassed tribes of the eastern soudan. he liked them; he could enter into their hatred of the old turkish rule, he could understand their fanaticism, and their pretence of fanaticism under the compulsion of osman digna's hordes. "yes, i shall come back," he said, "and in three months' time. for one thing, we know--every englishman in egypt, too, knows--that this can't be the end. i want to be here when the work's taken in hand again. i hate unfinished things." the sun beat relentlessly upon the plateau; the men, stretched in the shade, slept; the afternoon was as noiseless as the morning; durrance and mather sat for some while compelled to silence by the silence surrounding them. but durrance's eyes turned at last from the amphitheatre of hills; they lost their abstraction, they became intently fixed upon the shrubbery beyond the glacis. he was no longer recollecting tewfik bey and his heroic defence, or speculating upon the work to be done in the years ahead. without turning his head, he saw that mather was gazing in the same direction as himself. "what are you thinking about?" he asked suddenly of mather. mather laughed, and answered thoughtfully:-- "i was drawing up the menu of the first dinner i will have when i reach london. i will eat it alone, i think, quite alone, and at epitaux. it will begin with a watermelon. and you?" "i was wondering why, now that the pigeons have got used to our presence, they should still be wheeling in and out of one particular tree. don't point to it, please! i mean the tree beyond the ditch, and to the right of two small bushes." all about them they could see the pigeons quietly perched upon the branches, spotting the foliage like a purple fruit. only above the one tree they circled and timorously called. "we will draw that covert," said durrance. "take a dozen men and surround it quietly." he himself remained on the glacis watching the tree and the thick undergrowth. he saw six soldiers creep round the shrubbery from the left, six more from the right. but before they could meet and ring the tree in, he saw the branches violently shaken, and an arab with a roll of yellowish dammar wound about his waist, and armed with a flat-headed spear and a shield of hide, dashed from the shelter and raced out between the soldiers into the open plain. he ran for a few yards only. for mather gave a sharp order to his men, and the arab, as though he understood that order, came to a stop before a rifle could be lifted to a shoulder. he walked quietly back to mather. he was brought up on to the glacis, where he stood before durrance without insolence or servility. he explained in arabic that he was a man of the kabbabish tribe named abou fatma, and friendly to the english. he was on his way to suakin. "why did you hide?" asked durrance. "it was safer. i knew you for my friends. but, my gentleman, did you know me for yours?" then durrance said quickly, "you speak english," and durrance spoke in english. the answer came without hesitation. "i know a few words." "where did you learn them?" "in khartum." thereafter he was left alone with durrance on the glacis, and the two men talked together for the best part of an hour. at the end of that time the arab was seen to descend the glacis, cross the trench, and proceed toward the hills. durrance gave the order for the resumption of the march. the water-tanks were filled, the men replenished their zamshyehs, knowing that of all thirsts in this world the afternoon thirst is the very worst, saddled their camels, and mounted to the usual groaning and snarling. the detachment moved northwestward from sinkat, at an acute angle to its morning's march. it skirted the hills opposite to the pass from which it had descended in the morning. the bushes grew sparse. it came into a black country of stones scantily relieved by yellow tasselled mimosas. durrance called mather to his side. "that arab had a strange story to tell me. he was gordon's servant in khartum. at the beginning of , eighteen months ago in fact, gordon gave him a letter which he was to take to berber, whence the contents were to be telegraphed to cairo. but berber had just fallen when the messenger arrived there. he was seized upon and imprisoned the day after his arrival. but during the one day which he had free he hid the letter in the wall of a house, and so far as he knows it has not been discovered." "he would have been questioned if it had been," said mather. "precisely, and he was not questioned. he escaped from berber at night, three weeks ago. the story is curious, eh?" "and the letter still remains in the wall? it is curious. perhaps the man was telling lies." "he had the chain mark on his ankles," said durrance. the cavalcade turned to the left into the hills on the northern side of the plateau, and climbed again over shale. "a letter from gordon," said durrance, in a musing voice, "scribbled perhaps upon the roof-top of his palace, by the side of his great telescope--a sentence written in haste, and his eye again to the lens, searching over the palm trees for the smoke of the steamers--and it comes down the nile to be buried in a mud wall in berber. yes, it's curious," and he turned his face to the west and the sinking sun. even as he looked, the sun dipped behind the hills. the sky above his head darkened rapidly, to violet; in the west it flamed a glory of colours rich and iridescent. the colours lost their violence and blended delicately into one rose hue, the rose lingered for a little, and, fading in its turn, left a sky of the purest emerald green transfused with light from beneath rim of the world. "if only they had let us go last year westward to the nile," he said with a sort of passion. "before khartum had fallen, before berber had surrendered. but they would not." the magic of the sunset was not at all in durrance's thoughts. the story of the letter had struck upon a chord of reverence within him. he was occupied with the history of that honest, great, impracticable soldier, who, despised by officials and thwarted by intrigues, a man of few ties and much loneliness, had gone unflaggingly about his work, knowing the while that the moment his back was turned the work was in an instant all undone. darkness came upon the troops, the camels quickened their pace, the cicadas shrilled from every tuft of grass. the detachment moved down toward the well of disibil. durrance lay long awake that night on his camp bedstead spread out beneath the stars. he forgot the letter in the mud wall. southward the southern cross hung slanting in the sky, above him glittered the curve of the great bear. in a week he would sail for england; he lay awake, counting up the years since the packet had cast off from dover pier, and he found that the tale of them was good. kassassin, tel-el-kebir, the rush down the red sea, tokar, tamai, tamanieb--the crowded moments came vividly to his mind. he thrilled even now at the recollection of the hadendowas leaping and stabbing through the breach of mcneil's zareba six miles from suakin; he recalled the obdurate defence of the berkshires, the steadiness of the marines, the rallying of the broken troops. the years had been good years, years of plenty, years which had advanced him to the brevet-rank of lieutenant-colonel. "a week more--only a week," murmured mather, drowsily. "i shall come back," said durrance, with a laugh. "have you no friends?" and there was a pause. "yes, i have friends. i shall have three months wherein to see them." durrance had written no word to harry feversham during these years. not to write letters was indeed a part of the man. correspondence was a difficulty to him. he was thinking now that he would surprise his friends by a visit to donegal, or he might find them perhaps in london. he would ride once again in the row. but in the end he would come back. for his friend was married, and to ethne eustace, and as for himself his life's work lay here in the soudan. he would certainly come back. and so, turning on his side, he slept dreamlessly while the hosts of the stars trampled across the heavens above his head. * * * * * now, at this moment abou fatma of the kabbabish tribe was sleeping under a boulder on the khor gwob. he rose early and continued along the broad plains to the white city of suakin. there he repeated the story which he had told to durrance to one captain willoughby, who was acting for the time as deputy-governor. after he had come from the palace he told his story again, but this time in the native bazaar. he told it in arabic, and it happened that a greek seated outside a café close at hand overheard something of what was said. the greek took abou fatma aside, and with a promise of much merissa, wherewith to intoxicate himself, induced him to tell it a fourth time and very slowly. "could you find the house again?" asked the greek. abou fatma had no doubts upon that score. he proceeded to draw diagrams in the dust, not knowing that during his imprisonment the town of berber had been steadily pulled down by the mahdists and rebuilt to the north. "it will be wise to speak of this to no one except me," said the greek, jingling some significant dollars, and for a long while the two men talked secretly together. the greek happened to be harry feversham whom durrance was proposing to visit in donegal. captain willoughby was deputy-governor of suakin, and after three years of waiting one of harry feversham's opportunities had come. chapter viii lieutenant sutch is tempted to lie durrance reached london one morning in june, and on that afternoon took the first walk of the exile, into hyde park, where he sat beneath the trees marvelling at the grace of his countrywomen and the delicacy of their apparel, a solitary figure, sunburnt and stamped already with that indefinable expression of the eyes and face which marks the men set apart in the distant corners of the world. amongst the people who strolled past him, one, however, smiled, and, as he rose from his chair, mrs. adair came to his side. she looked him over from head to foot with a quick and almost furtive glance which might have told even durrance something of the place which he held in her thoughts. she was comparing him with the picture which she had of him now three years old. she was looking for the small marks of change which those three years might have brought about, and with eyes of apprehension. but durrance only noticed that she was dressed in black. she understood the question in his mind and answered it. "my husband died eighteen months ago," she explained in a quiet voice. "he was thrown from his horse during a run with the pytchley. he was killed at once." "i had not heard," durrance answered awkwardly. "i am very sorry." mrs. adair took a chair beside him and did not reply. she was a woman of perplexing silences; and her pale and placid face, with its cold correct outline, gave no clue to the thoughts with which she occupied them. she sat without stirring. durrance was embarrassed. he remembered mr. adair as a good-humoured man, whose one chief quality was his evident affection for his wife, but with what eyes the wife had looked upon him he had never up till now considered. mr. adair indeed had been at the best a shadowy figure in that small household, and durrance found it difficult even to draw upon his recollections for any full expression of regret. he gave up the attempt and asked:-- "are harry feversham and his wife in town?" mrs. adair was slow to reply. "not yet," she said, after a pause, but immediately she corrected herself, and said a little hurriedly, "i mean--the marriage never took place." durrance was not a man easily startled, and even when he was, his surprise was not expressed in exclamations. "i don't think that i understand. why did it never take place?" he asked. mrs. adair looked sharply at him, as though inquiring for the reason of his deliberate tones. "i don't know why," she said. "ethne can keep a secret if she wishes," and durrance nodded his assent. "the marriage was broken off on the night of a dance at lennon house." durrance turned at once to her. "just before i left england three years ago?" "yes. then you knew?" "no. only you have explained to me something which occurred on the very night that i left dover. what has become of harry?" mrs. adair shrugged her shoulders. "i do not know. i have met no one who does know. i do not think that i have met any one who has even seen him since that time. he must have left england." durrance pondered on this mysterious disappearance. it was harry feversham, then, whom he had seen upon the pier as the channel boat cast off. the man with the troubled and despairing face was, after all, his friend. "and miss eustace?" he asked after a pause, with a queer timidity. "she has married since?" again mrs. adair took her time to reply. "no," said she. "then she is still at ramelton?" mrs. adair shook her head. "there was a fire at lennon house a year ago. did you ever hear of a constable called bastable?" "indeed, i did. he was the means of introducing me to miss eustace and her father. i was travelling from londonderry to letterkenny. i received a letter from mr. eustace, whom i did not know, but who knew from my friends at letterkenny that i was coming past his house. he asked me to stay the night with him. naturally enough i declined, with the result that bastable arrested me on a magistrate's warrant as soon as i landed from the ferry." "that is the man," said mrs. adair, and she told durrance the history of the fire. it appeared that bastable's claim to dermod's friendship rested upon his skill in preparing a particular brew of toddy, which needed a single oyster simmering in the saucepan to give it its perfection of flavour. about two o'clock of a june morning the spirit lamp on which the saucepan stewed had been overset; neither of the two confederates in drink had their wits about them at the moment, and the house was half burnt and the rest of it ruined by water before the fire could be got under. "there were consequences still more distressing than the destruction of the house," she continued. "the fire was a beacon warning to dermod's creditors for one thing, and dermod, already overpowered with debts, fell in a day upon complete ruin. he was drenched by the water hoses besides, and took a chill which nearly killed him, from the effects of which he has never recovered. you will find him a broken man. the estates are let, and ethne is now living with her father in a little mountain village in donegal." mrs. adair had not looked at durrance while she spoke. she kept her eyes fixed steadily in front of her, and indeed she spoke without feeling on one side or the other, but rather like a person constraining herself to speech because speech was a necessity. nor did she turn to look at durrance when she had done. "so she has lost everything?" said durrance. "she still has a home in donegal," returned mrs. adair. "and that means a great deal to her," said durrance, slowly. "yes, i think you are right." "it means," said mrs. adair, "that ethne with all her ill-luck has reason to be envied by many other women." durrance did not answer that suggestion directly. he watched the carriages drive past, he listened to the chatter and the laughter of the people about him, his eyes were refreshed by the women in their light-coloured frocks; and all the time his slow mind was working toward the lame expression of his philosophy. mrs. adair turned to him with a slight impatience in the end. "of what are you thinking?" she asked. "that women suffer much more than men when the world goes wrong with them," he answered, and the answer was rather a question than a definite assertion. "i know very little, of course. i can only guess. but i think women gather up into themselves what they have been through much more than we do. to them what is past becomes a real part of them, as much a part of them as a limb; to us it's always something external, at the best the rung of a ladder, at the worst a weight on the heel. don't you think so, too? i phrase the thought badly. but put it this way: women look backwards, we look ahead; so misfortune hits them harder, eh?" mrs. adair answered in her own way. she did not expressly agree. but a certain humility became audible in her voice. "the mountain village at which ethne is living," she said in a low voice, "is called glenalla. a track strikes up towards it from the road halfway between rathmullen and ramelton." she rose as she finished the sentence and held out her hand. "shall i see you?" "you are still in hill street?" said durrance. "i shall be for a time in london." mrs. adair raised her eyebrows. she looked always by nature for the intricate and concealed motive, so that conduct which sprang from a reason, obvious and simple, was likely to baffle her. she was baffled now by durrance's resolve to remain in town. why did he not travel at once to donegal, she asked herself, since thither his thoughts undoubtedly preceded him. she heard of his continual presence at his service club, and could not understand. she did not even have a suspicion of his motive when he himself informed her that he had travelled into surrey and had spent a day with general feversham. it had been an ineffectual day for durrance. the general kept him steadily to the history of the campaign from which he had just returned. only once was he able to approach the topic of harry feversham's disappearance, and at the mere mention of his son's name the old general's face set like plaster. it became void of expression and inattentive as a mask. "we will talk of something else, if you please," said he; and durrance returned to london not an inch nearer to donegal. thereafter he sat under the great tree in the inner courtyard of his club, talking to this man and to that, and still unsatisfied with the conversation. all through that june the afternoons and evenings found him at his post. never a friend of feversham's passed by the tree but durrance had a word for him, and the word led always to a question. but the question elicited no answer except a shrug of the shoulders, and a "hanged if i know!" harry feversham's place knew him no more; he had dropped even out of the speculations of his friends. toward the end of june, however, an old retired naval officer limped into the courtyard, saw durrance, hesitated, and began with a remarkable alacrity to move away. durrance sprang up from his seat. "mr. sutch," said he. "you have forgotten me?" "colonel durrance, to be sure," said the embarrassed lieutenant. "it is some while since we met, but i remember you very well now. i think we met--let me see--where was it? an old man's memory, colonel durrance, is like a leaky ship. it comes to harbour with its cargo of recollections swamped." neither the lieutenant's present embarrassment nor his previous hesitation escaped durrance's notice. "we met at broad place," said he. "i wish you to give me news of my friend feversham. why was his engagement with miss eustace broken off? where is he now?" the lieutenant's eyes gleamed for a moment with satisfaction. he had always been doubtful whether durrance was aware of harry's fall into disgrace. durrance plainly did not know. "there is only one person in the world, i believe," said sutch, "who can answer both your questions." durrance was in no way disconcerted. "yes. i have waited here a month for you," he replied. lieutenant sutch pushed his fingers through his beard, and stared down at his companion. "well, it is true," he admitted. "i can answer your questions, but i will not." "harry feversham is my friend." "general feversham is his father, yet he knows only half the truth. miss eustace was betrothed to him, and she knows no more. i pledged my word to harry that i would keep silence." "it is not curiosity which makes me ask." "i am sure that, on the contrary, it is friendship," said the lieutenant, cordially. "nor that entirely. there is another aspect of the matter. i will not ask you to answer my questions, but i will put a third one to you. it is one harder for me to ask than for you to answer. would a friend of harry feversham be at all disloyal to that friendship, if"--and durrance flushed beneath his sunburn--"if he tried his luck with miss eustace?" the question startled lieutenant sutch. "you?" he exclaimed, and he stood considering durrance, remembering the rapidity of his promotion, speculating upon his likelihood to take a woman's fancy. here was an aspect of the case, indeed, to which he had not given a thought, and he was no less troubled than startled. for there had grown up within him a jealousy on behalf of harry feversham as strong as a mother's for a favourite second son. he had nursed with a most pleasurable anticipation a hope that, in the end, harry would come back to all that he once had owned, like a rethroned king. he stared at durrance and saw the hope stricken. durrance looked the man of courage which his record proved him to be, and lieutenant sutch had his theory of women. "brute courage--they make a god of it." "well?" asked durrance. lieutenant sutch was aware that he must answer. he was sorely tempted to lie. for he knew enough of the man who questioned him to be certain that the lie would have its effect. durrance would go back to the soudan, and leave his suit unpressed. "well?" sutch looked up at the sky and down upon the flags. harry had foreseen that this complication was likely to occur, he had not wished that ethne should wait. sutch imagined him at this very moment, lost somewhere under the burning sun, and compared that picture with the one before his eyes--the successful soldier taking his ease at his club. he felt inclined to break his promise, to tell the whole truth, to answer both the questions which durrance had first asked. and again the pitiless monosyllable demanded his reply. "well?" "no," said sutch, regretfully. "there would be no disloyalty." and on that evening durrance took the train for holyhead. chapter ix at glenalla the farm-house stood a mile above the village, in a wild moorland country. the heather encroached upon its garden, and the bridle-path ended at its door. on three sides an amphitheatre of hills, which changed so instantly to the season that it seemed one could distinguish from day to day a new gradation in their colours, harboured it like a ship. no trees grew upon those hills, the granite cropped out amidst the moss and heather; but they had a friendly sheltering look, and durrance came almost to believe that they put on their different draperies of emerald green, and purple, and russet brown consciously to delight the eyes of the girl they sheltered. the house faced the long slope of country to the inlet of the lough. from the windows the eye reached down over the sparse thickets, the few tilled fields, the whitewashed cottages, to the tall woods upon the bank, and caught a glimpse of bright water and the gulls poising and dipping above it. durrance rode up the track upon an afternoon and knew the house at once. for as he approached, the music of a violin floated towards him from the windows like a welcome. his hand was checked upon the reins, and a particular strong hope, about which he had allowed his fancies to play, rose up within him and suspended his breath. he tied up his horse and entered in at the gate. a formless barrack without, the house within was a place of comfort. the room into which he was shown, with its brasses and its gleaming oak and its wide prospect, was bright as the afternoon itself. durrance imagined it, too, with the blinds drawn upon a winter's night, and the fire red on the hearth, and the wind skirling about the hills and rapping on the panes. ethne greeted him without the least mark of surprise. "i thought that you would come," she said, and a smile shone upon her face. durrance laughed suddenly as they shook hands, and ethne wondered why. she followed the direction of his eyes towards the violin which lay upon a table at her side. it was pale in colour; there was a mark, too, close to the bridge, where a morsel of worm-eaten wood had been replaced. "it is yours," she said. "you were in egypt. i could not well send it back to you there." "i have hoped lately, since i knew," returned durrance, "that, nevertheless, you would accept it." "you see i have," said ethne, and looking straight into his eyes she added: "i accepted it some while ago. there was a time when i needed to be assured that i had sure friends. and a thing tangible helped. i was very glad to have it." durrance took the instrument from the table, handling it delicately, like a sacred vessel. "you have played upon it? the musoline overture, perhaps," said he. "do you remember that?" she returned, with a laugh. "yes, i have played upon it, but only recently. for a long time i put my violin away. it talked to me too intimately of many things which i wished to forget," and these words, like the rest, she spoke without hesitation or any down-dropping of the eyes. durrance fetched up his luggage from rathmullen the next day, and stayed at the farm for a week. but up to the last hour of his visit no further reference was made to harry feversham by either ethne or durrance, although they were thrown much into each other's company. for dermod was even more broken than mrs. adair's description had led durrance to expect. his speech was all dwindled to monosyllables; his frame was shrunken, and his clothes bagged upon his limbs; his very stature seemed lessened; even the anger was clouded from his eye; he had become a stay-at-home, dozing for the most part of the day by a fire, even in that july weather; his longest walk was to the little grey church which stood naked upon a mound some quarter of a mile away and within view of the windows, and even that walk taxed his strength. he was an old man fallen upon decrepitude, and almost out of recognition, so that his gestures and the rare tones of his voice struck upon durrance as something painful, like the mimicry of a dead man. his collie dog seemed to age in company, and, to see them side by side, one might have said, in sympathy. durrance and ethne were thus thrown much together. by day, in the wet weather or the fine, they tramped the hills, while she, with the colour glowing in her face, and her eyes most jealous and eager, showed him her country and exacted his admiration. in the evenings she would take her violin, and sitting as of old with an averted face, she would bid the strings speak of the heights and depths. durrance sat watching the sweep of her arm, the absorption of her face, and counting up his chances. he had not brought with him to glenalla lieutenant sutch's anticipations that he would succeed. the shadow of harry feversham might well separate them. for another thing, he knew very well that poverty would fall more lightly upon her than upon most women. he had indeed had proofs of that. though the lennon house was altogether ruined, and its lands gone from her, ethne was still amongst her own people. they still looked eagerly for her visits; she was still the princess of that country-side. on the other hand, she took a frank pleasure in his company, and she led him to speak of his three years' service in the east. no detail was too insignificant for her inquiries, and while he spoke her eyes continually sounded him, and the smile upon her lips continually approved. durrance did not understand what she was after. possibly no one could have understood unless he was aware of what had passed between harry feversham and ethne. durrance wore the likeness of a man, and she was anxious to make sure that the spirit of a man informed it. he was a dark lantern to her. there might be a flame burning within, or there might be mere vacancy and darkness. she was pushing back the slide so that she might be sure. she led him to speak of egypt upon the last day of his visit. they were seated upon the hillside, on the edge of a stream which leaped from ledge to ledge down a miniature gorge of rock, and flowed over deep pools between the ledges very swiftly, a torrent of clear black water. "i travelled once for four days amongst the mirages," he said,--"lagoons, still as a mirror and fringed with misty trees. you could almost walk your camel up to the knees in them, before the lagoon receded and the sand glared at you. and one cannot imagine that glare. every stone within view dances and shakes like a heliograph; you can see--yes, actually see--the heat flow breast high across the desert swift as this stream here, only pellucid. so till the sun sets ahead of you level with your eyes! imagine the nights which follow--nights of infinite silence, with a cool friendly wind blowing from horizon to horizon--and your bed spread for you under the great dome of stars. oh," he cried, drawing a deep breath, "but that country grows on you. it's like the southern cross--four overrated stars when first you see them, but in a week you begin to look for them, and you miss them when you travel north again." he raised himself upon his elbow and turned suddenly towards her. "do you know--i can only speak for myself--but i never feel alone in those empty spaces. on the contrary, i always feel very close to the things i care about, and to the few people i care about too." her eyes shone very brightly upon him, her lips parted in a smile. he moved nearer to her upon the grass, and sat with his feet gathered under him upon one side, and leaning upon his arm. "i used to imagine you out there," he said. "you would have loved it--from the start before daybreak, in the dark, to the camp-fire at night. you would have been at home. i used to think so as i lay awake wondering how the world went with my friends." "and you go back there?" she said. durrance did not immediately answer. the roar of the torrent throbbed about them. when he did speak, all the enthusiasm had gone from his voice. he spoke gazing into the stream. "to wadi halfa. for two years. i suppose so." ethne kneeled upon the grass at his side. "i shall miss you," she said. she was kneeling just behind him as he sat on the ground, and again there fell a silence between them. "of what are you thinking?" "that you need not miss me," he said, and he was aware that she drew back and sank down upon her heels. "my appointment at halfa--i might shorten its term. i might perhaps avoid it altogether. i have still half my furlough." she did not answer nor did she change her attitude. she remained very still, and durrance was alarmed, and all his hopes sank. for a stillness of attitude he knew to be with her as definite an expression of distress as a cry of pain with another woman. he turned about towards her. her head was bent, but she raised it as he turned, and though her lips smiled, there was a look of great trouble in her eyes. durrance was a man like another. his first thought was whether there was not some obstacle which would hinder her from compliance, even though she herself were willing. "there is your father," he said. "yes," she answered, "there is my father too. i could not leave him." "nor need you," said he, quickly. "that difficulty can be surmounted. to tell the truth i was not thinking of your father at the moment." "nor was i," said she. durrance turned away and sat for a little while staring down the rocks into a wrinkled pool of water just beneath. it was after all the shadow of feversham which stretched between himself and her. "i know, of course," he said, "that you would never feel trouble, as so many do, with half your heart. you would neither easily care nor lightly forget." "i remember enough," she returned in a low voice, "to make your words rather a pain to me. some day perhaps i may bring myself to tell everything which happened at that ball three years ago, and then you will be better able to understand why i am a little distressed. all that i can tell you now is this: i have a great fear that i was to some degree the cause of another man's ruin. i do not mean that i was to blame for it. but if i had not been known to him, his career might perhaps never have come to so abrupt an end. i am not sure, but i am afraid. i asked whether it was so, and i was told 'no,' but i think very likely that generosity dictated that answer. and the fear stays. i am much distressed by it. i lie awake with it at night. and then you come whom i greatly value, and you say quietly, 'will you please spoil my career too?'" and she struck one hand sharply into the other and cried, "but that i will not do." and again he answered:-- "there is no need that you should. wadi halfa is not the only place where a soldier can find work to his hand." his voice had taken a new hopefulness. for he had listened intently to the words which she had spoken, and he had construed them by the dictionary of his desires. she had not said that friendship bounded all her thoughts of him. therefore he need not believe it. women were given to a hinting modesty of speech, at all events the best of them. a man might read a little more emphasis into their tones, and underline their words and still be short of their meaning, as he argued. a subtle delicacy graced them in nature. durrance was near to benedick's mood. "one whom i value"; "i shall miss you"; there might be a double meaning in the phrases. when she said that she needed to be assured that she had sure friends, did she not mean that she needed their companionship? but the argument, had he been acute enough to see it, proved how deep he was sunk in error. for what this girl spoke, she habitually meant, and she habitually meant no more. moreover, upon this occasion she had particularly weighed her words. "no doubt," she said, "_a_ soldier can. but can this soldier find work so suitable? listen, please, till i have done. i was so very glad to hear all that you have told me about your work and your journeys. i was still more glad because of the satisfaction with which you told it. for it seemed to me, as i listened and as i watched, that you had found the one true straight channel along which your life could run swift and smoothly and unharassed. and so few do that--so very few!" and she wrung her hands and cried, "and now you spoil it all." durrance suddenly faced her. he ceased from argument; he cried in a voice of passion:-- "i am for you, ethne! there's the true straight channel, and upon my word i believe you are for me. i thought--i admit it--at one time i would spend my life out there in the east, and the thought contented me. but i had schooled myself into contentment, for i believed you married." ethne ever so slightly flinched, and he himself recognised that he had spoken in a voice overloud, so that it had something almost of brutality. "do i hurt you?" he continued. "i am sorry. but let me speak the whole truth out, i cannot afford reticence, i want you to know the first and last of it. i say now that i love you. yes, but i could have said it with equal truth five years ago. it is five years since your father arrested me at the ferry down there on lough swilly, because i wished to press on to letterkenny and not delay a night by stopping with a stranger. five years since i first saw you, first heard the language of your violin. i remember how you sat with your back towards me. the light shone on your hair; i could just see your eyelashes and the colour of your cheeks. i remember the sweep of your arm.... my dear, you are for me; i am for you." but she drew back from his outstretched hands. "no," she said very gently, but with a decision he could not mistake. she saw more clearly into his mind than he did himself. the restlessness of the born traveller, the craving for the large and lonely spaces in the outlandish corners of the world, the incurable intermittent fever to be moving, ever moving amongst strange peoples and under strange skies--these were deep-rooted qualities of the man. passion might obscure them for a while, but they would make their appeal in the end, and the appeal would torture. the home would become a prison. desires would so clash within him, there could be no happiness. that was the man. for herself, she looked down the slope of the hill across the brown country. away on the right waved the woods about ramelton, at her feet flashed a strip of the lough; and this was her country; she was its child and the sister of its people. "no," she repeated, as she rose to her feet. durrance rose with her. he was still not so much disheartened as conscious of a blunder. he had put his case badly; he should never have given her the opportunity to think that marriage would be an interruption of his career. "we will say good-bye here," she said, "in the open. we shall be none the less good friends because three thousand miles hinder us from shaking hands." they shook hands as she spoke. "i shall be in england again in a year's time," said durrance. "may i come back?" ethne's eyes and her smile consented. "i should be sorry to lose you altogether," she said, "although even if i did not see you, i should know that i had not lost your friendship." she added, "i should also be glad to hear news of you and what you are doing, if ever you have the time to spare." "i may write?" he exclaimed eagerly. "yes," she answered, and his eagerness made her linger a little doubtfully upon the word. "that is, if you think it fair. i mean, it might be best for you, perhaps, to get rid of me entirely from your thoughts;" and durrance laughed and without any bitterness, so that in a moment ethne found herself laughing too, though at what she laughed she would have discovered it difficult to explain. "very well, write to me then." and she added drily, "but it will be about--other things." and again durrance read into her words the interpretation he desired; and again she meant just what she said, and not a word more. she stood where he left her, a tall, strong-limbed figure of womanhood, until he was gone out of sight. then she climbed down to the house, and going into her room took one of her violins from its case. but it was the violin which durrance had given to her, and before she had touched the strings with her bow she recognised it and put it suddenly away from her in its case. she snapped the case to. for a few moments she sat motionless in her chair, then she quickly crossed the room, and, taking her keys, unlocked a drawer. at the bottom of the drawer there lay hidden a photograph, and at this she looked for a long while and very wistfully. durrance meanwhile walked down to the trap which was waiting for him at the gates of the house, and saw that dermod eustace stood in the road with his hat upon his head. "i will walk a few yards with you, colonel durrance," said dermod. "i have a word for your ear." durrance suited his stride to the old man's faltering step, and they walked behind the dog-cart, and in silence. it was not the mere personal disappointment which weighed upon durrance's spirit. but he could not see with ethne's eyes, and as his gaze took in that quiet corner of donegal, he was filled with a great sadness lest all her life should be passed in this seclusion, her grave dug in the end under the wall of the tiny church, and her memory linger only in a few white cottages scattered over the moorland, and for a very little while. he was recalled by the pressure of dermod's hand upon his elbow. there was a gleam of inquiry in the old man's faded eyes, but it seemed that speech itself was a difficulty. "you have news for me?" he asked, after some hesitation. "news of harry feversham? i thought that i would ask you before you went away." "none," said durrance. "i am sorry," replied dermod, wistfully, "though i have no reason for sorrow. he struck us a cruel blow, colonel durrance.--i should have nothing but curses for him in my mouth and my heart. a black-throated coward my reason calls him, and yet i would be very glad to hear how the world goes with him. you were his friend. but you do not know?" it was actually of harry feversham that dermod eustace was speaking, and durrance, as he remarked the old man's wistfulness of voice and face, was seized with a certain remorse that he had allowed ethne so to thrust his friend out of his thoughts. he speculated upon the mystery of harry feversham's disappearance at times as he sat in the evening upon his verandah above the nile at wadi halfa, piecing together the few hints which he had gathered. "a black-throated coward," dermod had called harry feversham, and ethne had said enough to assure him that something graver than any dispute, something which had destroyed all her faith in the man, had put an end to their betrothal. but he could not conjecture at the particular cause, and the only consequence of his perplexed imaginings was the growth of a very real anger within him against the man who had been his friend. so the winter passed, and summer came to the soudan and the month of may. chapter x the wells of obak in that month of may durrance lifted his eyes from wadi halfa and began eagerly to look homeward. but in the contrary direction, five hundred miles to the south of his frontier town, on the other side of the great nubian desert and the belly of stones, the events of real importance to him were occurring without his knowledge. on the deserted track between berber and suakin the wells of obak are sunk deep amongst mounds of shifting sand. eastward a belt of trees divides the dunes from a hard stony plain built upon with granite hills; westward the desert stretches for fifty-eight waterless miles to mahobey and berber on the nile, a desert so flat that the merest tuft of grass knee-high seems at the distance of a mile a tree promising shade for a noonday halt, and a pile of stones no bigger than one might see by the side of any roadway in repair achieves the stature of a considerable hill. in this particular may there could be no spot more desolate than the wells of obak. the sun blazed upon it from six in the morning with an intolerable heat, and all night the wind blew across it piercingly cold, and played with the sand as it would, building pyramids house-high and levelling them, tunnelling valleys, silting up long slopes, so that the face of the country was continually changed. the vultures and the sand-grouse held it undisturbed in a perpetual tenancy. and to make the spot yet more desolate, there remained scattered here and there the bleached bones and skeletons of camels to bear evidence that about these wells once the caravans had crossed and halted; and the remnants of a house built of branches bent in hoops showed that once arabs had herded their goats and made their habitation there. now the sun rose and set, and the hot sky pressed upon an empty round of honey-coloured earth. silence brooded there like night upon the waters; and the absolute stillness made it a place of mystery and expectation. yet in this month of may one man sojourned by the wells and sojourned secretly. every morning at sunrise he drove two camels, swift riding-mares of the pure bisharin breed, from the belt of trees, watered them, and sat by the well-mouth for the space of three hours. then he drove them back again into the shelter of the trees, and fed them delicately with dhoura upon a cloth; and for the rest of the day he appeared no more. for five mornings he thus came from his hiding-place and sat looking toward the sand-dunes and berber, and no one approached him. but on the sixth, as he was on the point of returning to his shelter, he saw the figures of a man and a donkey suddenly outlined against the sky upon a crest of the sand. the arab seated by the well looked first at the donkey, and, remarking its grey colour, half rose to his feet. but as he rose he looked at the man who drove it, and saw that while his jellab was drawn forward over his face to protect it from the sun, his bare legs showed of an ebony blackness against the sand. the donkey-driver was a negro. the arab sat down again and waited with an air of the most complete indifference for the stranger to descend to him. he did not even move or turn when he heard the negro's feet treading the sand close behind him. "salam aleikum," said the negro, as he stopped. he carried a long spear and a short one, and a shield of hide. these he laid upon the ground and sat by the arab's side. the arab bowed his head and returned the salutation. "aleikum es salam," said he, and he waited. "it is abou fatma?" asked the negro. the arab nodded an assent. "two days ago," the other continued, "a man of the bisharin, moussa fedil, stopped me in the market-place of berber, and seeing that i was hungry, gave me food. and when i had eaten he charged me to drive this donkey to abou fatma at the wells of obak." abou fatma looked carelessly at the donkey as though now for the first time he had remarked it. "tayeeb," he said, no less carelessly. "the donkey is mine," and he sat inattentive and motionless, as though the negro's business were done and he might go. the negro, however, held his ground. "i am to meet moussa fedil again on the third morning from now, in the market-place of berber. give me a token which i may carry back, so that he may know i have fulfilled the charge and reward me." abou fatma took his knife from the small of his back, and picking up a stick from the ground, notched it thrice at each end. "this shall be a sign to moussa fedil;" and he handed the stick to his companion. the negro tied it securely into a corner of his wrap, loosed his water-skin from the donkey's back, filled it at the well and slung it about his shoulders. then he picked up his spears and his shield. abou fatma watched him labour up the slope of loose sand and disappear again on the further incline of the crest. then in his turn he rose, and hastily. when harry feversham had set out from obak six days before to traverse the fifty-eight miles of barren desert to the nile, this grey donkey had carried his water-skins and food. abou fatma drove the donkey down amongst the trees, and fastening it to a stem examined its shoulders. in the left shoulder a tiny incision had been made and the skin neatly stitched up again with fine thread. he cut the stitches, and pressing open the two edges of the wound, forced out a tiny package little bigger than a postage stamp. the package was a goat's bladder, and enclosed within the bladder was a note written in arabic and folded very small. abou fatma had not been gordon's body-servant for nothing; he had been taught during his service to read. he unfolded the note, and this is what was written:-- "the houses which were once berber are destroyed, and a new town of wide streets is building. there is no longer any sign by which i may know the ruins of yusef's house from the ruins of a hundred houses; nor does yusef any longer sell rock-salt in the bazaar. yet wait for me another week." the arab of the bisharin who wrote the letter was harry feversham. wearing the patched jubbeh of the dervishes over his stained skin, his hair frizzed on the crown of his head and falling upon the nape of his neck in locks matted and gummed into the semblance of seaweed, he went about his search for yusef through the wide streets of new berber with its gaping pits. to the south, and separated by a mile or so of desert, lay the old town where abou fatma had slept one night and hidden the letters, a warren of ruined houses facing upon narrow alleys and winding streets. the front walls had been pulled down, the roofs carried away, only the bare inner walls were left standing, so that feversham when he wandered amongst them vainly at night seemed to have come into long lanes of five courts, crumbling into decay. and each court was only distinguishable from its neighbour by a degree of ruin. already the foxes made their burrows beneath the walls. he had calculated that one night would have been the term of his stay in berber. he was to have crept through the gate in the dusk of the evening, and before the grey light had quenched the stars his face should be set towards obak. now he must go steadily forward amongst the crowds like a man that has business of moment, dreading conversation lest his tongue should betray him, listening ever for the name of yusef to strike upon his ears. despair kept him company at times, and fear always. but from the sharp pangs of these emotions a sort of madness was begotten in him, a frenzy of obstinacy, a belief fanatical as the dark religion of those amongst whom he moved, that he could not now fail and the world go on, that there could be no injustice in the whole scheme of the universe great enough to lay this heavy burden upon the one man least fitted to bear it and then callously to destroy him because he tried. fear had him in its grip on that morning three days after he had left abou fatma at the wells, when coming over a slope he first saw the sand stretched like a lagoon up to the dark brown walls of the town, and the overshadowing foliage of the big date palms rising on the nile bank beyond. within those walls were the crowded dervishes. it was surely the merest madness for a man to imagine that he could escape detection there, even for an hour. was it right, he began to ask, that a man should even try? the longer he stood, the more insistent did this question grow. the low mud walls grew strangely sinister; the welcome green of the waving palms, after so many arid days of sun and sand and stones, became an ironical invitation to death. he began to wonder whether he had not already done enough for honour in venturing so near. the sun beat upon him; his strength ebbed from him as though his veins were opened. if he were caught, he thought, as surely he would be--oh, very surely! he saw the fanatical faces crowding fiercely about him ... were not mutilations practised?... he looked about him, shivering even in that strong heat, and the great loneliness of the place smote upon him, so that his knees shook. he faced about and commenced to run, leaping in a panic alone and unpursued across the naked desert under the sun, while from his throat feeble cries broke inarticulately. he ran, however, only for a few yards, and it was the very violence of his flight which stopped him. these four years of anticipation were as nothing, then? he had schooled himself in the tongue, he had lived in the bazaars, to no end? he was still the craven who had sent in his papers? the quiet confidence with which he had revealed his plan to lieutenant sutch over the table in the criterion grill-room was the mere vainglory of a man who continually deceived himself? and ethne?... he dropped upon the ground and, drawing his coat over his head, lay, a brown spot indistinguishable from the sand about him, an irregularity in the great waste surface of earth. he shut the prospect from his eyes, and over the thousands of miles of continent and sea he drew ethne's face towards him. a little while and he was back again in donegal. the summer night whispered through the open doorway in the hall; in a room near by people danced to music. he saw the three feathers fluttering to the floor; he read the growing trouble in ethne's face. if he could do this thing, and the still harder thing which now he knew to lie beyond, he might perhaps some day see that face cleared of its trouble. there were significant words too in his ears, "i should have no doubt that you and i would see much of one another afterwards." towards the setting of the sun he rose from the ground, and walking down towards berber, passed between the gates. chapter xi durrance hears news of feversham a month later durrance arrived in london and discovered a letter from ethne awaiting him at his club. it told him simply that she was staying with mrs. adair, and would be glad if he would find the time to call; but there was a black border to the paper and the envelope. durrance called at hill street the next afternoon and found ethne alone. "i did not write to wadi halfa," she explained at once, "for i thought that you would be on your way home before my letter could arrive. my father died last month, towards the end of may." "i was afraid when i got your letter that you would have this to tell me," he replied. "i am very sorry. you will miss him." "more than i can say," said she, with a quiet depth of feeling. "he died one morning early--i think i will tell you if you would care to hear," and she related to him the manner of dermod's death, of which a chill was the occasion rather than the cause; for he died of a gradual dissolution rather than a definite disease. it was a curious story which ethne had to tell, for it seemed that just before his death dermod recaptured something of his old masterful spirit. "we knew that he was dying," ethne said. "he knew it too, and at seven o'clock of the afternoon after--" she hesitated for a moment and resumed, "after he had spoken for a little while to me, he called his dog by name. the dog sprang at once on to the bed, though his voice had not risen above a whisper, and crouching quite close, pushed its muzzle with a whine under my father's hand. then he told me to leave him and the dog altogether alone. i was to shut the door upon him. the dog would tell me when to open it again. i obeyed him and waited outside the door until one o'clock. then a loud sudden howl moaned through the house." she stopped for a while. this pause was the only sign of distress which she gave, and in a few moments she went on, speaking quite simply, without any of the affectations of grief. "it was trying to wait outside that door while the afternoon faded and the night came. it was night, of course, long before the end. he would have no lamp left in his room. one imagined him just the other side of that thin door-panel, lying very still and silent in the great four-poster bed with his face towards the hills, and the light falling. one imagined the room slipping away into darkness, and the windows continually looming into a greater importance, and the dog by his side and no one else, right to the very end. he would have it that way, but it was rather hard for me." durrance said nothing in reply, but gave her in full measure what she most needed, the sympathy of his silence. he imagined those hours in the passage, six hours of twilight and darkness; he could picture her standing close by the door, with her ear perhaps to the panel, and her hand upon her heart to check its loud beating. there was something rather cruel, he thought, in dermod's resolve to die alone. it was ethne who broke the silence. "i said that my father spoke to me just before he told me to leave him. of whom do you think he spoke?" she was looking directly at durrance as she put the question. from neither her eyes nor the level tone of her voice could he gather anything of the answer, but a sudden throb of hope caught away his breath. "tell me!" he said, in a sort of suspense, as he leaned forward in his chair. "of mr. feversham," she answered, and he drew back again, and rather suddenly. it was evident that this was not the name which he had expected. he took his eyes from hers and stared downwards at the carpet, so that she might not see his face. "my father was always very fond of him," she continued gently, "and i think that i would like to know if you have any knowledge of what he is doing or where he is." durrance did not answer nor did he raise his face. he reflected upon the strange strong hold which harry feversham kept upon the affections of those who had once known him well; so that even the man whom he had wronged, and upon whose daughter he had brought much suffering, must remember him with kindliness upon his death-bed. the reflection was not without its bitterness to durrance at this moment, and this bitterness he was afraid that his face and voice might both betray. but he was compelled to speak, for ethne insisted. "you have never come across him, i suppose?" she asked. durrance rose from his seat and walked to the window before he answered. he spoke looking out into the street, but though he thus concealed the expression of his face, a thrill of deep anger sounded through his words, in spite of his efforts to subdue his tones. "no," he said, "i never have," and suddenly his anger had its way with him; it chose as well as informed his words. "and i never wish to," he cried. "he was my friend, i know. but i cannot remember that friendship now. i can only think that if he had been the true man we took him for, you would not have waited alone in that dark passage during those six hours." he turned again to the centre of the room and asked abruptly:-- "you are going back to glenalla?" "yes." "you will live there alone?" "yes." for a little while there was silence between them. then durrance walked round to the back of her chair. "you once said that you would perhaps tell me why your engagement was broken off." "but you know," she said. "what you said at the window showed that you knew." "no, i do not. one or two words your father let drop. he asked me for news of feversham the last time that i spoke with him. but i know nothing definite. i should like you to tell me." ethne shook her head and leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. "not now," she said, and silence again followed her words. durrance broke it again. "i have only one more year at halfa. it would be wise to leave egypt then, i think. i do not expect much will be done in the soudan for some little while. i do not think that i will stay there--in any case. i mean even if you should decide to remain alone at glenalla." ethne made no pretence to ignore the suggestion of his words. "we are neither of us children," she said; "you have all your life to think of. we should be prudent." "yes," said durrance, with a sudden exasperation, "but the right kind of prudence. the prudence which knows that it's worth while to dare a good deal." ethne did not move. she was leaning forward with her back towards him, so that he could see nothing of her face, and for a long while she remained in this attitude, quite silent and very still. she asked a question at the last, and in a very low and gentle voice. "do you want me so very much?" and before he could answer she turned quickly towards him. "try not to," she exclaimed earnestly. "for this one year try not to. you have much to occupy your thoughts. try to forget me altogether;" and there was just sufficient regret in her tone, the regret at the prospect of losing a valued friend, to take all the sting from her words, to confirm durrance in his delusion that but for her fear that she would spoil his career, she would answer him in very different words. mrs. adair came into the room before he could reply, and thus he carried away with him his delusion. he dined that evening at his club, and sat afterwards smoking his cigar under the big tree where he had sat so persistently a year before in his vain quest for news of harry feversham. it was much the same sort of clear night as that on which he had seen lieutenant sutch limp into the courtyard and hesitate at the sight of him. the strip of sky was cloudless and starry overhead; the air had the pleasant languor of a summer night in june; the lights flashing from the windows and doorways gave to the leaves of the trees the fresh green look of spring; and outside in the roadway the carriages rolled with a thunderous hum like the sound of the sea. and on this night, too, there came a man into the courtyard who knew durrance. but he did not hesitate. he came straight up to durrance and sat down upon the seat at his side. durrance dropped the paper at which he was glancing and held out his hand. "how do you do?" said he. this friend was captain mather. "i was wondering whether i should meet you when i read the evening paper. i knew that it was about the time one might expect to find you in london. you have seen, i suppose?" "what?" asked durrance. "then you haven't," replied mather. he picked up the newspaper which durrance had dropped and turned over the sheets, searching for the piece of news which he required. "you remember that last reconnaissance we made from suakin?" "very well." "we halted by the sinkat fort at midday. there was an arab hiding in the trees at the back of the glacis." "yes." "have you forgotten the yarn he told you?" "about gordon's letters and the wall of a house in berber? no, i have not forgotten." "then here's something which will interest you," and captain mather, having folded the paper to his satisfaction, handed it to durrance and pointed to a paragraph. it was a short paragraph; it gave no details; it was the merest summary; and durrance read it through between the puffs of his cigar. "the fellow must have gone back to berber after all," said he. "a risky business. abou fatma--that was the man's name." the paragraph made no mention of abou fatma, or indeed of any man except captain willoughby, the deputy-governor of suakin. it merely announced that certain letters which the mahdi had sent to gordon summoning him to surrender khartum, and inviting him to become a convert to the mahdist religion, together with copies of gordon's curt replies, had been recovered from a wall in berber and brought safely to captain willoughby at suakin. "they were hardly worth risking a life for," said mather. "perhaps not," replied durrance, a little doubtfully. "but after all, one is glad they have been recovered. perhaps the copies are in gordon's own hand. they are, at all events, of an historic interest." "in a way, no doubt," said mather. "but even so, their recovery throws no light upon the history of the siege. it can make no real difference to any one, not even to the historian." "that is true," durrance agreed, and there was nothing more untrue. in the same spot where he had sought for news of feversham news had now come to him--only he did not know. he was in the dark; he could not appreciate that here was news which, however little it might trouble the historian, touched his life at the springs. he dismissed the paragraph from his mind, and sat thinking over the conversation which had passed that afternoon between ethne and himself, and without discouragement. ethne had mentioned harry feversham, it was true,--had asked for news of him. but she might have been--nay, she probably had been--moved to ask because her father's last words had referred to him. she had spoken his name in a perfectly steady voice, he remembered; and, indeed, the mere fact that she had spoken it at all might be taken as a sign that it had no longer any power with her. there was something hopeful to his mind in her very request that he should try during this one year to omit her from his thoughts. for it seemed almost to imply that if he could not, she might at the end of it, perhaps, give to him the answer for which he longed. he allowed a few days to pass, and then called again at mrs. adair's house. but he found only mrs. adair. ethne had left london and returned to donegal. she had left rather suddenly, mrs. adair told him, and mrs. adair had no sure knowledge of the reason of her going. durrance, however, had no doubt as to the reason. ethne was putting into practice the policy which she had commended to his thoughts. he was to try to forget her, and she would help him to success so far as she could by her absence from his sight. and in attributing this reason to her, durrance was right. but one thing ethne had forgotten. she had not asked him to cease to write to her, and accordingly in the autumn of that year the letters began again to come from the soudan. she was frankly glad to receive them, but at the same time she was troubled. for in spite of their careful reticence, every now and then a phrase leaped out--it might be merely the repetition of some trivial sentence which she had spoken long ago and long ago forgotten--and she could not but see that in spite of her prayer she lived perpetually in his thoughts. there was a strain of hopefulness too, as though he moved in a world painted with new colours and suddenly grown musical. ethne had never freed herself from the haunting fear that one man's life had been spoilt because of her; she had never faltered from her determination that this should not happen with a second. only with durrance's letters before her she could not evade a new and perplexing question. by what means was that possibility to be avoided? there were two ways. by choosing which of them could she fulfil her determination? she was no longer so sure as she had been the year before that his career was all in all. the question recurred to her again and again. she took it out with her on the hillside with the letters, and pondered and puzzled over it and got never an inch nearer to a solution. even her violin failed her in this strait. chapter xii durrance sharpens his wits it was a night of may, and outside the mess-room at wadi halfa three officers were smoking on a grass knoll above the nile. the moon was at its full, and the strong light had robbed even the planets of their lustre. the smaller stars were not visible at all, and the sky washed of its dark colour, curved overhead, pearly-hued and luminous. the three officers sat in their lounge chairs and smoked silently, while the bull-frogs croaked from an island in mid-river. at the bottom of the small steep cliff on which they sat the nile, so sluggish was its flow, shone like a burnished mirror, and from the opposite bank the desert stretched away to infinite distances, a vast plain with scattered hummocks, a plain white as a hoar frost on the surface of which the stones sparkled like jewels. behind the three officers of the garrison the roof of the mess-room verandah threw a shadow on the ground; it seemed a solid piece of blackness. one of the three officers struck a match and held it to the end of his cigar. the flame lit up a troubled and anxious face. "i hope that no harm has come to him," he said, as he threw the match away. "i wish that i could say i believed it." the speaker was a man of middle age and the colonel of a soudanese battalion. he was answered by a man whose hair had gone grey, it is true. but grey hair is frequent in the soudan, and his unlined face still showed that he was young. he was lieutenant calder of the engineers. youth, however, in this instance had no optimism wherewith to challenge colonel dawson. "he left halfa eight weeks ago, eh?" he said gloomily. "eight weeks to-day," replied the colonel. it was the third officer, a tall, spare, long-necked major of the army service corps, who alone hazarded a cheerful prophecy. "it's early days to conclude durrance has got scuppered," said he. "one knows durrance. give him a camp-fire in the desert, and a couple of sheiks to sit round it with him, and he'll buck to them for a month and never feel bored at the end. while here there are letters, and there's an office, and there's a desk in the office and everything he loathes and can't do with. you'll see durrance will turn up right enough, though he won't hurry about it." "he is three weeks overdue," objected the colonel, "and he's methodical after a fashion. i am afraid." major walters pointed out his arm to the white empty desert across the river. "if he had travelled that way, westward, i might agree," he said. "but durrance went east through the mountain country toward berenice and the red sea. the tribes he went to visit were quiet, even in the worst times, when osman digna lay before suakin." the colonel, however, took no comfort from walters's confidence. he tugged at his moustache and repeated, "he is three weeks overdue." lieutenant calder knocked the ashes from his pipe and refilled it. he leaned forward in his chair as he pressed the tobacco down with his thumb, and he said slowly:-- "i wonder. it is just possible that some sort of trap was laid for durrance. i am not sure. i never mentioned before what i knew, because until lately i did not suspect that it could have anything to do with his delay. but now i begin to wonder. you remember the night before he started?" "yes," said dawson, and he hitched his chair a little nearer. calder was the one man in wadi halfa who could claim something like intimacy with durrance. despite their difference in rank there was no great disparity in age between the two men, and from the first when calder had come inexperienced and fresh from england, but with a great ardour to acquire a comprehensive experience, durrance in his reticent way had been at pains to show the newcomer considerable friendship. calder, therefore, might be likely to know. "i too remember that night," said walters. "durrance dined at the mess and went away early to prepare for his journey." "his preparations were made already," said calder. "he went away early, as you say. but he did not go to his quarters. he walked along the river-bank to tewfikieh." wadi halfa was the military station, tewfikieh a little frontier town to the north separated from halfa by a mile of river-bank. a few greeks kept stores there, a few bare and dirty cafés faced the street between native cook-shops and tobacconists'; a noisy little town where the negro from the dinka country jolted the fellah from the delta, and the air was torn with many dialects; a thronged little town, which yet lacked to european ears one distinctive element of a throng. there was no ring of footsteps. the crowd walked on sand and for the most part with naked feet, so that if for a rare moment the sharp high cries and the perpetual voices ceased, the figures of men and women flitted by noiseless as ghosts. and even at night, when the streets were most crowded and the uproar loudest, it seemed that underneath the noise, and almost appreciable to the ear, there lay a deep and brooding silence, the silence of deserts and the east. "durrance went down to tewfikieh at ten o'clock that night," said calder. "i went to his quarters at eleven. he had not returned. he was starting eastward at four in the morning, and there was some detail of business on which i wished to speak to him before he went. so i waited for his return. he came in about a quarter of an hour afterwards and told me at once that i must be quick, since he was expecting a visitor. he spoke quickly and rather restlessly. he seemed to be labouring under some excitement. he barely listened to what i had to say, and he answered me at random. it was quite evident that he was moved, and rather deeply moved, by some unusual feeling, though at the nature of the feeling i could not guess. for at one moment it seemed certainly to be anger, and the next moment he relaxed into a laugh, as though in spite of himself he was glad. however, he bundled me out, and as i went i heard him telling his servant to go to bed, because, though he expected a visitor, he would admit the visitor himself." "well!" said dawson, "and who was the visitor?" "i do not know," answered calder. "the one thing i do know is that when durrance's servant went to call him at four o'clock for his journey, he found durrance still sitting on the verandah outside his quarters, as though he still expected his visitor. the visitor had not come." "and durrance left no message?" "no. i was up myself before he started. i thought that he was puzzled and worried. i thought, too, that he meant to tell me what was the matter. i still think that he had that in his mind, but that he could not decide. for even after he had taken his seat upon his saddle and his camel had risen from the ground, he turned and looked down towards me. but he thought better of it, or worse, as the case may be. at all events, he did not speak. he struck the camel on the flank with his stick, and rode slowly past the post-office and out into the desert, with his head sunk upon his breast. i wonder whether he rode into a trap. who could this visitor have been whom he meets in the street of tewfikieh, and who must come so secretly to wadi halfa? what can have been his business with durrance? important business, troublesome business--so much is evident. and he did not come to transact it. was the whole thing a lure to which we have not the clue? like colonel dawson, i am afraid." there was a silence after he had finished, which major walters was the first to break. he offered no argument--he simply expressed again his unalterable cheerfulness. "i don't think durrance has got scuppered," said he, as he rose from his chair. "i know what i shall do," said the colonel. "i shall send out a strong search party in the morning." and the next morning, as they sat at breakfast on the verandah, he at once proceeded to describe the force which he meant to despatch. major walters, too, it seemed, in spite of his hopeful prophecies, had pondered during the night over calder's story, and he leaned across the table to calder. "did you never inquire whom durrance talked with at tewfikieh on that night?" he asked. "i did, and there's a point that puzzles me," said calder. he was sitting with his back to the nile and his face towards the glass doors of the mess-room, and he spoke to walters, who was directly opposite. "i could not find that he talked to more than one person, and that one person could not by any likelihood have been the visitor he expected. durrance stopped in front of a café where some strolling musicians, who had somehow wandered up to tewfikieh, were playing and singing for their night's lodging. one of them, a greek i was told, came outside into the street and took his hat round. durrance threw a sovereign into the hat, the man turned to thank him, and they talked for a little time together;" and as he came to this point he raised his head. a look of recognition came into his face. he laid his hands upon the table-edge, and leaned forward with his feet drawn back beneath his chair as though he was on the point of springing up. but he did not spring up. his look of recognition became one of bewilderment. he glanced round the table and saw that colonel dawson was helping himself to cocoa, while major walters's eyes were on his plate. there were other officers of the garrison present, but not one had remarked his movement and its sudden arrest. calder leaned back, and staring curiously in front of him and over the major's shoulder, continued his story. "but i could never hear that durrance spoke to any one else. he seemed, except that one knows to the contrary, merely to have strolled through the village and back again to wadi halfa." "that doesn't help us much," said the major. "and it's all you know?" asked the colonel. "no, not quite all," returned calder, slowly; "i know, for instance, that the man we are talking about is staring me straight in the face." at once everybody at the table turned towards the mess-room. "durrance!" cried the colonel, springing up. "when did you get back?" said the major. durrance, with the dust of his journey still powdered upon his clothes, and a face burnt to the colour of red brick, was standing in the doorway, and listening with a remarkable intentness to the voices of his fellow-officers. it was perhaps noticeable that calder, who was durrance's friend, neither rose from his chair nor offered any greeting. he still sat watching durrance; he still remained curious and perplexed; but as durrance descended the three steps into the verandah there came a quick and troubled look of comprehension into his face. "we expected you three weeks ago," said dawson, as he pulled a chair away from an empty place at the table. "the delay could not be helped," replied durrance. he took the chair and drew it up. "does my story account for it?" asked calder. "not a bit. it was the greek musician i expected that night," he explained with a laugh. "i was curious to know what stroke of ill-luck had cast him out to play the zither for a night's lodging in a café at tewfikieh. that was all," and he added slowly, in a softer voice, "yes, that was all." "meanwhile you are forgetting your breakfast," said dawson, as he rose. "what will you have?" calder leaned ever so slightly forward with his eyes quietly resting on durrance. durrance looked round the table, and then called the mess-waiter. "moussa, get me something cold," said he, and the waiter went back into the mess-room. calder nodded his head with a faint smile, as though he understood that here was a difficulty rather cleverly surmounted. "there's tea, cocoa, and coffee," he said. "help yourself, durrance." "thanks," said durrance. "i see, but i will get moussa to bring me a brandy-and-soda, i think," and again calder nodded his head. durrance ate his breakfast and drank his brandy-and-soda, and talked the while of his journey. he had travelled farther eastward than he had intended. he had found the ababdeh arabs quiet amongst their mountains. if they were not disposed to acknowledge allegiance to egypt, on the other hand they paid no tribute to mahommed achmet. the weather had been good, ibex and antelope plentiful. durrance, on the whole, had reason to be content with his journey. and calder sat and watched him, and disbelieved every word that he said. the other officers went about their duties; calder remained behind, and waited until durrance should finish. but it seemed that durrance never would finish. he loitered over his breakfast, and when that was done he pushed his plate away and sat talking. there was no end to his questions as to what had passed at wadi halfa during the last eight weeks, no limit to his enthusiasm over the journey from which he had just returned. finally, however, he stopped with a remarkable abruptness, and said, with some suspicion, to his companion:-- "you are taking life easily this morning." "i have not eight weeks' arrears of letters to clear off, as you have, colonel," calder returned with a laugh; and he saw durrance's face cloud and his forehead contract. "true," he said, after a pause. "i had forgotten my letters." and he rose from his seat at the table, mounted the steps, and passed into the mess-room. calder immediately sprang up, and with his eyes followed durrance's movements. durrance went to a nail which was fixed in the wall close to the glass doors and on a level with his head. from that nail he took down the key of his office, crossed the room, and went out through the farther door. that door he left open, and calder could see him walk down the path between the bushes through the tiny garden in front of the mess, unlatch the gate, and cross the open space of sand towards his office. as soon as durrance had disappeared calder sat down again, and, resting his elbows on the table, propped his face between his hands. calder was troubled. he was a friend of durrance; he was the one man in wadi halfa who possessed something of durrance's confidence; he knew that there were certain letters in a woman's handwriting waiting for him in his office. he was very deeply troubled. durrance had aged during these eight weeks. there were furrows about his mouth where only faint lines had been visible when he had started out from halfa; and it was not merely desert dust which had discoloured his hair. his hilarity, too, had an artificial air. he had sat at the table constraining himself to the semblance of high spirits. calder lit his pipe, and sat for a long while by the empty table. then he took his helmet and crossed the sand to durrance's office. he lifted the latch noiselessly; as noiselessly he opened the door, and he looked in. durrance was sitting at his desk with his head bowed upon his arms and all his letters unopened at his side. calder stepped into the room and closed the door loudly behind him. at once durrance turned his face to the door. "well?" said he. "i have a paper, colonel, which requires your signature," said calder. "it's the authority for the alterations in c barracks. you remember?" "very well. i will look through it and return it to you, signed, at lunch-time. will you give it to me, please?" he held out his hand towards calder. calder took his pipe from his mouth, and, standing thus in full view of durrance, slowly and deliberately placed it into durrance's outstretched palm. it was not until the hot bowl burnt his hand that durrance snatched his arm away. the pipe fell and broke upon the floor. neither of the two men spoke for a few moments, and then calder put his arm round durrance's shoulder, and asked in a voice gentle as a woman's:-- "how did it happen?" durrance buried his face in his hands. the great control which he had exercised till now he was no longer able to sustain. he did not answer, nor did he utter any sound, but he sat shivering from head to foot. "how did it happen?" calder asked again, and in a whisper. durrance put another question:-- "how did you find out?" "you stood in the mess-room doorway listening to discover whose voice spoke from where. when i raised my head and saw you, though your eyes rested on my face there was no recognition in them. i suspected then. when you came down the steps into the verandah i became almost certain. when you would not help yourself to food, when you reached out your arm over your shoulder so that moussa had to put the brandy-and-soda safely into your palm, i was sure." "i was a fool to try and hide it," said durrance. "of course i knew all the time that i couldn't for more than a few hours. but even those few hours somehow seemed a gain." "how did it happen?" "there was a high wind," durrance explained. "it took my helmet off. it was eight o'clock in the morning. i did not mean to move my camp that day, and i was standing outside my tent in my shirt-sleeves. so you see that i had not even the collar of a coat to protect the nape of my neck. i was fool enough to run after my helmet; and--you must have seen the same thing happen a hundred times--each time that i stooped to pick it up it skipped away; each time that i ran after it, it stopped and waited for me to catch it up. and before one was aware what one was doing, one had run a quarter of a mile. i went down, i was told, like a log just when i had the helmet in my hand. how long ago it happened i don't quite know, for i was ill for a time, and afterwards it was difficult to keep count, since one couldn't tell the difference between day and night." durrance, in a word, had gone blind. he told the rest of his story. he had bidden his followers carry him back to berber, and then, influenced by the natural wish to hide his calamity as long as he could, he had enjoined upon them silence. calder heard the story through to the end, and then rose at once to his feet. "there's a doctor. he is clever, and, for a syrian, knows a good deal. i will fetch him here privately, and we will hear what he says. your blindness may be merely temporary." the syrian doctor, however, pursed up his lips and shook his head. he advised an immediate departure to cairo. it was a case for a specialist. he himself would hesitate to pronounce an opinion; though, to be sure, there was always hope of a cure. "have you ever suffered an injury in the head?" he asked. "were you ever thrown from your horse? were you wounded?" "no," said durrance. the syrian did not disguise his conviction that the case was grave; and after he had departed both men were silent for some time. calder had a feeling that any attempt at consolation would be futile in itself, and might, moreover, in betraying his own fear that the hurt was irreparable, only discourage his companion. he turned to the pile of letters and looked them through. "there are two letters here, durrance," he said gently, "which you might perhaps care to hear. they are written in a woman's hand, and there is an irish postmark. shall i open them?" "no," exclaimed durrance, suddenly, and his hand dropped quickly upon calder's arm. "by no means." calder, however, did not put down the letters. he was anxious, for private reasons of his own, to learn something more of ethne eustace than the outside of her letters could reveal. a few rare references made in unusual moments of confidence by durrance had only informed calder of her name, and assured him that his friend would be very glad to change it if he could. he looked at durrance--a man so trained to vigour and activity that his very sunburn seemed an essential quality rather than an accident of the country in which he lived; a man, too, who came to the wild, uncitied places of the world with the joy of one who comes into an inheritance; a man to whom these desolate tracts were home, and the fireside and the hedged fields and made roads merely the other places; and he understood the magnitude of the calamity which had befallen him. therefore he was most anxious to know more of this girl who wrote to durrance from donegal, and to gather from her letters, as from a mirror in which her image was reflected, some speculation as to her character. for if she failed, what had this friend of his any longer left? "you would like to hear them, i expect," he insisted. "you have been away eight weeks." and he was interrupted by a harsh laugh. "do you know what i was thinking when i stopped you?" said durrance. "why, that i would read the letters after you had gone. it takes time to get used to being blind after your eyes have served you pretty well all your life." and his voice shook ever so little. "you will have to help me to answer them, calder. so read them. please read them." calder tore open the envelopes and read the letters through and was satisfied. they gave a record of the simple doings of her mountain village in donegal, and in the simplest terms. but the girl's nature shone out in the telling. her love of the country-side and of the people who dwelt there was manifest. she could see the humour and the tragedy of the small village troubles. there was a warm friendliness for durrance moreover expressed, not so much in a sentence as in the whole spirit of the letters. it was evident that she was most keenly interested in all that he did; that, in a way, she looked upon his career as a thing in which she had a share, even if it was only a friend's share. and when calder had ended he looked again at durrance, but now with a face of relief. it seemed, too, that durrance was relieved. "after all, one has something to be thankful for," he cried. "think! suppose that i had been engaged to her! she would never have allowed me to break it off, once i had gone blind. what an escape!" "an escape?" exclaimed calder. "you don't understand. but i knew a man who went blind; a good fellow, too, before--mind that, before! but a year after! you couldn't have recognised him. he had narrowed down into the most selfish, exacting, egotistical creature it is possible to imagine. i don't wonder; i hardly see how he could help it; i don't blame him. but it wouldn't make life easier for a wife, would it? a helpless husband who can't cross a road without his wife at his elbow is bad enough. but make him a selfish beast into the bargain, full of questions, jealous of her power to go where she will, curious as to every person with whom she speaks--and what then? my god, i am glad that girl refused me. for that i am most grateful." "she refused you?" asked calder, and the relief passed from his face and voice. "twice," said durrance. "what an escape! you see, calder, i shall be more trouble even than the man i told you of. i am not clever. i can't sit in a chair and amuse myself by thinking, not having any intellect to buck about. i have lived out of doors and hard, and that's the only sort of life that suits me. i tell you, calder, you won't be very anxious for much of my society in a year's time," and he laughed again and with the same harshness. "oh, stop that," said calder; "i will read the rest of your letters to you." he read them, however, without much attention to their contents. his mind was occupied with the two letters from ethne eustace, and he was wondering whether there was any deeper emotion than mere friendship hidden beneath the words. girls refused men for all sorts of queer reasons which had no sense in them, and very often they were sick and sorry about it afterwards; and very often they meant to accept the men all the time. "i must answer the letters from ireland," said durrance, when he had finished. "the rest can wait." calder held a sheet of paper upon the desk and told durrance when he was writing on a slant and when he was writing on the blotting-pad; and in this way durrance wrote to tell ethne that a sunstroke had deprived him of his sight. calder took that letter away. but he took it to the hospital and asked for the syrian doctor. the doctor came out to him, and they walked together under the trees in front of the building. "tell me the truth," said calder. the doctor blinked behind his spectacles. "the optic nerve is, i think, destroyed," he replied. "then there is no hope?" "none, if my diagnosis is correct." calder turned the letter over and over, as though he could not make up his mind what in the world to do with it. "can a sunstroke destroy the optic nerve?" he asked at length. "a mere sunstroke? no," replied the doctor. "but it may be the occasion. for the cause one must look deeper." calder came to a stop, and there was a look of horror in his eyes. "you mean--one must look to the brain?" "yes." they walked on for a few paces. a further question was in calder's mind, but he had some difficulty in speaking it, and when he had spoken he waited for the answer in suspense. "then this calamity is not all. there will be more to follow--death or--" but that other alternative he could not bring himself to utter. here, however, the doctor was able to reassure him. "no. that does not follow." calder went back to the mess-room and called for a brandy-and-soda. he was more disturbed by the blow which had fallen upon durrance than he would have cared to own; and he put the letter upon the table and thought of the message of renunciation which it contained, and he could hardly restrain his fingers from tearing it across. it must be sent, he knew; its destruction would be of no more than a temporary avail. yet he could hardly bring himself to post it. with the passage of every minute he realised more clearly what blindness meant to durrance. a man not very clever, as he himself was ever the first to acknowledge, and always the inheritor of the other places,--how much more it meant to him than to the ordinary run of men! would the girl, he wondered, understand as clearly? it was very silent that morning on the verandah at wadi halfa; the sunlight blazed upon desert and river; not a breath of wind stirred the foliage of any bush. calder drank his brandy-and-soda, and slowly that question forced itself more and more into the front of his mind. would the woman over in ireland understand? he rose from his chair as he heard colonel dawson's voice in the mess-room, and taking up his letter, walked away to the post-office. durrance's letter was despatched, but somewhere in the mediterranean it crossed a letter from ethne, which durrance received a fortnight later at cairo. it was read out to him by calder, who had obtained leave to come down from wadi halfa with his friend. ethne wrote that she had, during the last months, considered all that he had said when at glenalla and in london; she had read, too, his letters and understood that in his thoughts of her there had been no change, and that there would be none; she therefore went back upon her old argument that she would, by marriage, be doing him an injury, and she would marry him upon his return to england. "that's rough luck, isn't it?" said durrance, when calder had read the letter through. "for here's the one thing i have always wished for, and it comes when i can no longer take it." "i think you will find it very difficult to refuse to take it," said calder. "i do not know miss eustace, but i can hazard a guess from the letters of hers which i have read to you. i do not think that she is a woman who will say 'yes' one day, and then because bad times come to you say 'no' the next, or allow you to say 'no' for her, either. i have a sort of notion that since she cares for you and you for her, you are doing little less than insulting her if you imagine that she cannot marry you and still be happy." durrance thought over that aspect of the question, and began to wonder. calder might be right. marriage with a blind man! it might, perhaps, be possible if upon both sides there was love, and the letter from ethne proved--did it not?--that on both sides there _was_ love. besides, there were some trivial compensations which might help to make her sacrifice less burdensome. she could still live in her own country and move in her own home. for the lennon house could be rebuilt and the estates cleared of their debt. "besides," said calder, "there is always a possibility of a cure." "there is no such possibility," said durrance, with a decision which quite startled his companion. "you know that as well as i do;" and he added with a laugh, "you needn't start so guiltily. i haven't overheard a word of any of your conversations about me." "then what in the world makes you think that there's no chance?" "the voice of every doctor who has encouraged me to hope. their words--yes--their words tell me to visit specialists in europe, and not lose heart, but their voices give the lie to their words. if one cannot see, one can at all events hear." calder looked thoughtfully at his friend. this was not the only occasion on which of late durrance had surprised his friends by an unusual acuteness. calder glanced uncomfortably at the letter which he was still holding in his hand. "when was that letter written?" said durrance, suddenly; and immediately upon the question he asked another, "what makes you jump?" calder laughed and explained hastily. "why, i was looking at the letter at the moment when you asked, and your question came so pat that i could hardly believe you did not see what i was doing. it was written on the fifteenth of may." "ah," said durrance, "the day i returned to wadi halfa blind." calder sat in his chair without a movement. he gazed anxiously at his companion, it seemed almost as though he were afraid; his attitude was one of suspense. "that's a queer coincidence," said durrance, with a careless laugh; and calder had an intuition that he was listening with the utmost intentness for some movement on his own part, perhaps a relaxation of his attitude, perhaps a breath of relief. calder did not move, however; and he drew no breath of relief. chapter xiii durrance begins to see ethne stood at the drawing-room window of the house in hill street. mrs. adair sat in front of her tea-table. both women were waiting, and they were both listening for some particular sound to rise up from the street and penetrate into the room. the window stood open that they might hear it the more quickly. it was half-past five in the afternoon. june had come round again with the exhilaration of its sunlight, and london had sparkled into a city of pleasure and green trees. in the houses opposite, the windows were gay with flowers; and in the street below, the carriages rolled easily towards the park. a jingle of bells rose upwards suddenly and grew loud. mrs. adair raised her head quickly. "that's a cab," she said. "yes." ethne leaned forward and looked down. "but it's not stopping here;" and the jingle grew fainter and died away. mrs. adair looked at the clock. "colonel durrance is late," she said, and she turned curiously towards ethne. it seemed to her that ethne had spoken her "yes" with much more of suspense than eagerness; her attitude as she leaned forward at the window had been almost one of apprehension; and though mrs. adair was not quite sure, she fancied that she detected relief when the cab passed by the house and did not stop. "i wonder why you didn't go to the station and meet colonel durrance?" she asked slowly. the answer came promptly enough. "he might have thought that i had come because i looked upon him as rather helpless, and i don't wish him to think that. he has his servant with him." ethne looked again out of the window, and once or twice she made a movement as if she was about to speak and then thought silence the better part. finally, however, she made up her mind. "you remember the telegram i showed to you?" "from lieutenant calder, saying that colonel durrance had gone blind?" "yes. i want you to promise never to mention it. i don't want him to know that i ever received it." mrs. adair was puzzled, and she hated to be puzzled. she had been shown the telegram, but she had not been told that ethne had written to durrance, pledging herself to him immediately upon its receipt. ethne, when she showed the telegram, had merely said, "i am engaged to him." mrs. adair at once believed that the engagement had been of some standing, and she had been allowed to continue in that belief. "you will promise?" ethne insisted. "certainly, my dear, if you like," returned mrs. adair, with an ungracious shrug of the shoulders. "but there is a reason, i suppose. i don't understand why you exact the promise." "two lives must not be spoilt because of me." there was some ground for mrs. adair's suspicion that ethne expected the blind man to whom she was betrothed, with apprehension. it is true that she was a little afraid. just twelve months had passed since, in this very room, on just such a sunlit afternoon, ethne had bidden durrance try to forget her, and each letter which she had since received had shown that, whether he tried or not, he had not forgotten. even that last one received three weeks ago, the note scrawled in the handwriting of a child, from wadi halfa, with the large unsteady words straggling unevenly across the page, and the letters running into one another wherein he had told his calamity and renounced his suit--even that proved, and perhaps more surely than its hopeful forerunners--that he had not forgotten. as she waited at the window she understood very clearly that it was she herself who must buckle to the hard work of forgetting. or if that was impossible, she must be careful always that by no word let slip in a forgetful moment she betrayed that she had not forgotten. "no," she said, "two lives shall not be spoilt because of me," and she turned towards mrs. adair. "are you quite sure, ethne," said mrs. adair, "that the two lives will not be more surely spoilt by this way of yours--the way of marriage? don't you think that you will come to feel colonel durrance, in spite of your will, something of a hindrance and a drag? isn't it possible that he may come to feel that too? i wonder. i very much wonder." "no," said ethne, decisively. "i shall not feel it, and he must not." the two lives, according to mrs. adair, were not the lives of durrance and harry feversham, but of durrance and ethne herself. there she was wrong; but ethne did not dispute the point, she was indeed rather glad that her friend was wrong, and she allowed her to continue in her wrong belief. ethne resumed her watch at the window, foreseeing her life, planning it out so that never might she be caught off her guard. the task would be difficult, no doubt, and it was no wonder that in these minutes while she waited fear grew upon her lest she should fail. but the end was well worth the effort, and she set her eyes upon that. durrance had lost everything which made life to him worth living the moment he went blind--everything, except one thing. "what should i do if i were crippled?" he had said to harry feversham on the morning when for the last time they had ridden together in the row. "a clever man might put up with it. but what should i do if i had to sit in a chair all my days?" ethne had not heard the words, but she understood the man well enough without them. he was by birth the inheritor of the other places, and he had lost his heritage. the things which delighted him, the long journeys, the faces of strange countries, the camp-fire, a mere spark of red light amidst black and empty silence, the hours of sleep in the open under bright stars, the cool night wind of the desert, and the work of government--all these things he had lost. only one thing remained to him--herself, and only, as she knew very well, herself so long as he could believe she wanted him. and while she was still occupied with her resolve, the cab for which she waited stopped unnoticed at the door. it was not until durrance's servant had actually rung the bell that her attention was again attracted to the street. "he has come!" she said with a start. durrance, it was true, was not particularly acute; he had never been inquisitive; he took his friends as he found them; he put them under no microscope. it would have been easy at any time, ethne reflected, to quiet his suspicions, should he have ever come to entertain any. but _now_ it would be easier than ever. there was no reason for apprehension. thus she argued, but in spite of the argument she rather nerved herself to an encounter than went forward to welcome her betrothed. mrs. adair slipped out of the room, so that ethne was alone when durrance entered at the door. she did not move immediately; she retained her attitude and position, expecting that the change in him would for the first moment shock her. but she was surprised; for the particular changes which she had expected were noticeable only through their absence. his face was worn, no doubt, his hair had gone grey, but there was no air of helplessness or uncertainty, and it was that which for his own sake she most dreaded. he walked forward into the room as though his eyes saw; his memory seemed to tell him exactly where each piece of the furniture stood. the most that he did was once or twice to put out a hand where he expected a chair. ethne drew silently back into the window rather at a loss with what words to greet him, and immediately he smiled and came straight towards her. "ethne," he said. "it isn't true, then," she exclaimed. "you have recovered." the words were forced from her by the readiness of his movement. "it is quite true, and i have not recovered," he answered. "but you moved at the window and so i knew that you were there." "how did you know? i made no noise." "no, but the window's open. the noise in the street became suddenly louder, so i knew that some one in front of the window had moved aside. i guessed that it was you." their words were thus not perhaps the most customary greeting between a couple meeting on the first occasion after they have become engaged, but they served to hinder embarrassment. ethne shrank from any perfunctory expression of regret, knowing that there was no need for it, and durrance had no wish to hear it. for there were many things which these two understood each other well enough to take as said. they did no more than shake hands when they had spoken, and ethne moved back into the room. "i will give you some tea," she said, "then we can talk." "yes, we must have a talk, mustn't we?" durrance answered seriously. he threw off his serious air, however, and chatted with good humour about the details of his journey home. he even found a subject of amusement in his sense of helplessness during the first days of his blindness; and ethne's apprehensions rapidly diminished. they had indeed almost vanished from her mind when something in his attitude suddenly brought them back. "i wrote to you from wadi halfa," he said. "i don't know whether you could read the letter." "quite well," said ethne. "i got a friend of mine to hold the paper and tell me when i was writing on it or merely on the blotting-pad," he continued with a laugh. "calder--of the sappers--but you don't know him." he shot the name out rather quickly, and it came upon ethne with a shock that he had set a trap to catch her. the curious stillness of his face seemed to tell her that he was listening with an extreme intentness for some start, perhaps even a checked exclamation, which would betray that she knew something of calder of the sappers. did he suspect, she asked herself? did he know of the telegram? did he guess that her letter was sent out of pity? she looked into durrance's face, and it told her nothing except that it was very alert. in the old days, a year ago, the expression of his eyes would have answered her quite certainly, however close he held his tongue. "i could read the letter without difficulty," she answered gently. "it was the letter you would have written. but i had written to you before, and of course your bad news could make no difference. i take back no word of what i wrote." durrance sat with his hands upon his knees, leaning forward a little. again ethne was at a loss. she could not tell from his manner or his face whether he accepted or questioned her answer; and again she realised that a year ago while he had his sight she would have been in no doubt. "yes, i know you. you would take nothing back," he said at length. "but there is my point of view." ethne looked at him with apprehension. "yes?" she replied, and she strove to speak with unconcern. "will you tell me it?" durrance assented, and began in the deliberate voice of a man who has thought out his subject, knows it by heart, and has decided, moreover, the order of words by which it will be most lucidly developed. "i know what blindness means to all men--a growing, narrowing egotism unless one is perpetually on one's guard. and will one be perpetually on one's guard? blindness means that to all men," he repeated emphatically. "but it must mean more to me, who am deprived of every occupation. if i were a writer, i could still dictate. if i were a business man, i could conduct my business. but i am a soldier, and not a clever soldier. jealousy, a continual and irritable curiosity--there is no paul pry like your blind man--a querulous claim upon your attention--these are my special dangers." and ethne laughed gently in contradiction of his argument. "well, perhaps one may hold them off," he acknowledged, "but they are to be considered. i have considered them. i am not speaking to you without thought. i have pondered and puzzled over the whole matter night after night since i got your letter, wondering what i should do. you know how gladly, with what gratitude, i would have answered you, 'yes, let the marriage go on,' if i dared. if i dared! but i think--don't you?--that a great trouble rather clears one's wits. i used to lie awake at cairo and think; and the unimportant trivial considerations gradually dropped away; and a few straight and simple truths stood out rather vividly. one felt that one had to cling to them and with all one's might, because nothing else was left." "yes, that i do understand," ethne replied in a low voice. she had gone through just such an experience herself. it might have been herself, and not durrance, who was speaking. she looked up at him, and for the first time began to understand that after all she and he might have much in common. she repeated over to herself with an even firmer determination, "two lives shall not be spoilt because of me." "well?" she asked. "well, here's one of the very straight and simple truths. marriage between a man crippled like myself, whose life is done, and a woman like you, active and young, whose life is in its flower, would be quite wrong unless each brought to it much more than friendship. it would be quite wrong if it implied a sacrifice for you." "it implies no sacrifice," she answered firmly. durrance nodded. it was evident that the answer contented him, and ethne felt that it was the intonation to which he listened rather than the words. his very attitude of concentration showed her that. she began to wonder whether it would be so easy after all to quiet his suspicions now that he was blind; she began to realise that it might possibly on that very account be all the more difficult. "then do you bring more than friendship?" he asked suddenly. "you will be very honest, i know. tell me." ethne was in a quandary. she knew that she must answer, and at once and without ambiguity. in addition, she must answer honestly. "there is nothing," she replied, and as firmly as before, "nothing in the world which i wish for so earnestly as that you and i should marry." it was an honest wish, and it was honestly spoken. she knew nothing of the conversation which had passed between harry feversham and lieutenant sutch in the grill-room of the criterion restaurant; she knew nothing of harry's plans; she had not heard of the gordon letters recovered from the mud-wall of a ruined house in the city of the dervishes on the nile bank. harry feversham had, so far as she knew and meant, gone forever completely out of her life. therefore her wish was an honest one. but it was not an exact answer to durrance's question, and she hoped that again he would listen to the intonation, rather than to the words. however, he seemed content with it. "thank you, ethne," he said, and he took her hand and shook it. his face smiled at her. he asked no other questions. there was not a doubt, she thought; his suspicions were quieted; he was quite content. and upon that mrs. adair came with discretion into the room. she had the tact to greet durrance as one who suffered under no disadvantage, and she spoke as though she had seen him only the week before. "i suppose ethne has told you of our plan," she said, as she took her tea from her friend's hand. "no, not yet," ethne answered. "what plan?" asked durrance. "it is all arranged," said mrs. adair. "you will want to go home to guessens in devonshire. i am your neighbour--a couple of fields separate us, that's all. so ethne will stay with me during the interval before you are married." "that's very kind of you, mrs. adair," durrance exclaimed; "because, of course, there will be an interval." "a short one, no doubt," said mrs. adair. "well, it's this way. if there's a chance that i may recover my sight, it would be better that i should seize it at once. time means a good deal in these cases." "then there is a chance?" cried ethne. "i am going to see a specialist here to-morrow," durrance answered. "and, of course, there's the oculist at wiesbaden. but it may not be necessary to go so far. i expect that i shall be able to stay at guessens and come up to london when it is necessary. thank you very much, mrs. adair. it is a good plan." and he added slowly, "from my point of view there could be no better." ethne watched durrance drive away with his servant to his old rooms in st. james's street, and stood by the window after he had gone, in much the same attitude and absorption as that which had characterised her before he had come. outside in the street the carriages were now coming back from the park, and there was just one other change. ethne's apprehensions had taken a more definite shape. she believed that suspicion was quieted in durrance for to-day, at all events. she had not heard his conversation with calder in cairo. she did not know that he believed there was no cure which could restore him to sight. she had no remotest notion that the possibility of a remedy might be a mere excuse. but none the less she was uneasy. durrance had grown more acute. not only his senses had been sharpened,--that, indeed, was to be expected,--but trouble and thought had sharpened his mind as well. it had become more penetrating. she felt that she was entering upon an encounter of wits, and she had a fear lest she should be worsted. "two lives shall not be spoilt because of me," she repeated, but it was a prayer now, rather than a resolve. for one thing she recognised quite surely: durrance saw ever so much more clearly now that he was blind. chapter xiv captain willoughby reappears during the months of july and august ethne's apprehensions grew, and once at all events they found expression on her lips. "i am afraid," she said, one morning, as she stood in the sunlight at an open window of mrs. adair's house upon a creek of the salcombe estuary. in the room behind her mrs. adair smiled quietly. "of what? that some accident happened to colonel durrance yesterday in london?" "no," ethne answered slowly, "not of that. for he is at this moment crossing the lawn towards us." again mrs. adair smiled, but she did not raise her head from the book which she was reading, so that it might have been some passage in the book which so amused and pleased her. "i thought so," she said, but in so low a voice that the words barely reached ethne's ears. they did not penetrate to her mind, for as she looked across the stone-flagged terrace and down the broad shallow flight of steps to the lawn, she asked abruptly:-- "do you think he has any hope whatever that he will recover his sight?" the question had not occurred to mrs. adair before, and she gave to it now no importance in her thoughts. "would he travel up to town so often to see his oculist if he had none?" she asked in reply. "of course he hopes." "i am afraid," said ethne, and she turned with a sudden movement towards her friend. "haven't you noticed how quick he has grown and is growing? quick to interpret your silences, to infer what you do not say from what you do, to fill out your sentences, to make your movements the commentary of your words? laura, haven't you noticed? at times i think the very corners of my mind are revealed to him. he reads me like a child's lesson book." "yes," said mrs. adair, "you are at a disadvantage. you no longer have your face to screen your thoughts." "and his eyes no longer tell me anything at all," ethne added. there was truth in both remarks. so long as durrance had had ethne's face with its bright colour and her steady, frank, grey eyes visible before him, he could hardly weigh her intervals of silence and her movements against her spoken words with the detachment which was now possible to him. on the other hand, whereas before she had never been troubled by a doubt as to what he meant or wished, or intended, now she was often in the dark. durrance's blindness, in a word, had produced an effect entirely opposite to that which might have been expected. it had reversed their positions. mrs. adair, however, was more interested in ethne's unusual burst of confidence. there was no doubt of it, she reflected. the girl, once remarkable for a quiet frankness of word and look, was declining into a creature of shifts and agitation. "there is something, then, to be concealed from him?" she asked quietly. "yes." "something rather important?" "something which at all costs i must conceal," ethne exclaimed, and was not sure, even while she spoke, that durrance had not already found it out. she stepped over the threshold of the window on to the terrace. in front of her the lawn stretched to a hedge; on the far side of that hedge a couple of grass fields lifted and fell in gentle undulations; and beyond the fields she could see amongst a cluster of trees the smoke from the chimneys of colonel durrance's house. she stood for a little while hesitating upon the terrace. on the left the lawn ran down to a line of tall beeches and oaks which fringed the creek. but a broad space had been cleared to make a gap upon the bank, so that ethne could see the sunlight on the water and the wooded slope on the farther side, and a sailing-boat some way down the creek tacking slowly against the light wind. ethne looked about her, as though she was summoning her resources, and even composing her sentences ready for delivery to the man who was walking steadily towards her across the lawn. if there was hesitation upon her part, there was none at all, she noticed, on the part of the blind man. it seemed that durrance's eyes took in the path which his feet trod, and with the stick which he carried in his hand he switched at the blades of grass like one that carries it from habit rather than for any use. ethne descended the steps and advanced to meet him. she walked slowly, as if to a difficult encounter. but there was another who only waited an opportunity to engage in it with eagerness. for as ethne descended the steps mrs. adair suddenly dropped the book which she had pretended to resume and ran towards the window. hidden by the drapery of the curtain she looked out and watched. the smile was still upon her lips, but a fierce light had brightened in her eyes, and her face had the drawn look of hunger. "something which at all costs she must conceal," she said to herself, and she said it in a voice of exultation. there was contempt too in her tone, contempt for ethne eustace, the woman of the open air who was afraid, who shrank from marriage with a blind man, and dreaded the restraint upon her freedom. it was that shrinking which ethne had to conceal--mrs. adair had no doubt of it. "for my part, i am glad," she said, and she was--fiercely glad that blindness had disabled durrance. for if her opportunity ever came, as it seemed to her now more and more likely to come, blindness reserved him to her, as no man was ever reserved to any woman. so jealous was she of his every word and look that his dependence upon her would be the extreme of pleasure. she watched ethne and durrance meet on the lawn at the foot of the terrace steps. she saw them turn and walk side by side across the grass towards the creek. she noticed that ethne seemed to plead, and in her heart she longed to overhear. and ethne was pleading. "you saw your oculist yesterday?" she asked quickly, as soon as they met. "well, what did he say?" durrance shrugged his shoulders. "that one must wait. only time can show whether a cure is possible or not," he answered, and ethne bent forward a little and scrutinised his face as though she doubted that he spoke the truth. "but must you and i wait?" she asked. "surely," he returned. "it would be wiser on all counts." and thereupon he asked her suddenly a question of which she did not see the drift. "it was mrs. adair, i imagine, who proposed this plan that i should come home to guessens and that you should stay with her here across the fields?" ethne was puzzled by the question, but she answered it directly and truthfully. "i was in great distress when i heard of your accident. i was so distressed that at the first i could not think what to do. i came to london and told laura, since she is my friend, and this was her plan. of course i welcomed it with all my heart;" and the note of pleading rang in her voice. she was asking durrance to confirm her words, and he understood that. he turned towards her with a smile. "i know that very well, ethne," he said gently. ethne drew a breath of relief, and the anxiety passed for a little while from her face. "it was kind of mrs. adair," he resumed, "but it is rather hard on you, who would like to be back in your own country. i remember very well a sentence which harry feversham--" he spoke the name quite carelessly, but paused just for a moment after he had spoken it. no expression upon his face showed that he had any intention in so pausing, but ethne suspected one. he was listening, she suspected, for some movement of uneasiness, perhaps of pain, into which she might possibly be betrayed. but she made no movement. "a sentence which harry feversham spoke a long while since," he continued, "in london just before i left london for egypt. he was speaking of you, and he said: 'she is of her country and more of her county. i do not think she could be happy in any place which was not within reach of donegal.' and when i remember that, it seems rather selfish that i should claim to keep you here at so much cost to you." "i was not thinking of that," ethne exclaimed, "when i asked why we must wait. that makes me out most selfish. i was merely wondering why you preferred to wait, why you insist upon it. for, of course, although one hopes and prays with all one's soul that you will get your sight back, the fact of a cure can make no difference." she spoke slowly, and her voice again had a ring of pleading. this time durrance did not confirm her words, and she repeated them with a greater emphasis, "it can make no difference." durrance started like a man roused from an abstraction. "i beg your pardon, ethne," he said. "i was thinking at the moment of harry feversham. there is something which i want you to tell me. you said a long time ago at glenalla that you might one day bring yourself to tell it me, and i should rather like to know now. you see, harry feversham was my friend. i want you to tell me what happened that night at lennon house to break off your engagement, to send him away an outcast." ethne was silent for a while, and then she said gently: "i would rather not. it is all over and done with. i don't want you to ask me ever." durrance did not press for an answer in the slightest degree. "very well," he said cheerily, "i won't ask you. it might hurt you to answer, and i don't want, of course, to cause you pain." "it's not on that account that i wish to say nothing," ethne explained earnestly. she paused and chose her words. "it isn't that i am afraid of any pain. but what took place, took place such a long while ago--i look upon mr. feversham as a man whom one has known well, and who is now dead." they were walking toward the wide gap in the line of trees upon the bank of the creek, and as ethne spoke she raised her eyes from the ground. she saw that the little boat which she had noticed tacking up the creek while she hesitated upon the terrace had run its nose into the shore. the sail had been lowered, the little pole mast stuck up above the grass bank of the garden, and upon the bank itself a man was standing and staring vaguely towards the house as though not very sure of his ground. "a stranger has landed from the creek," she said. "he looks as if he had lost his way. i will go on and put him right." she ran forward as she spoke, seizing upon that stranger's presence as a means of relief, even if the relief was only to last for a minute. such relief might be felt, she imagined, by a witness in a court when the judge rises for his half-hour at luncheon-time. for the close of an interview with durrance left her continually with the sense that she had just stepped down from a witness-box where she had been subjected to a cross-examination so deft that she could not quite clearly perceive its tendency, although from the beginning she suspected it. the stranger at the same time advanced to her. he was a man of the middle size, with a short snub nose, a pair of vacuous protruding brown eyes, and a moustache of some ferocity. he lifted his hat from his head and disclosed a round forehead which was going bald. "i have sailed down from kingsbridge," he said, "but i have never been in this part of the world before. can you tell me if this house is called the pool?" "yes; you will find mrs. adair if you go up the steps on to the terrace," said ethne. "i came to see miss eustace." ethne turned back to him with surprise. "i am miss eustace." the stranger contemplated her in silence. "so i thought." he twirled first one moustache and then the other before he spoke again. "i have had some trouble to find you, miss eustace. i went all the way to glenalla--for nothing. rather hard on a man whose leave is short!" "i am very sorry," said ethne, with a smile; "but why have you been put to this trouble?" again the stranger curled a moustache. again his eyes dwelt vacantly upon her before he spoke. "you have forgotten my name, no doubt, by this time." "i do not think that i have ever heard it," she answered. "oh, yes, you have, believe me. you heard it five years ago. i am captain willoughby." ethne drew sharply back; the bright colour paled in her cheeks; her lips set in a firm line, and her eyes grew very hard. she glowered at him silently. captain willoughby was not in the least degree discomposed. he took his time to speak, and when he did it was rather with the air of a man forgiving a breach of manners, than of one making his excuses. "i can quite understand that you do not welcome me, miss eustace, but none of us could foresee that you would be present when the three white feathers came into feversham's hands." ethne swept the explanation aside. "how do you know that i was present?" she asked. "feversham told me." "you have seen him?" the cry leaped loudly from her lips. it was just a throb of the heart made vocal. it startled ethne as much as it surprised captain willoughby. she had schooled herself to omit harry feversham from her thoughts, and to obliterate him from her affections, and the cry showed to her how incompletely she had succeeded. only a few minutes since she had spoken of him as one whom she looked upon as dead, and she had believed that she spoke the truth. "you have actually seen him?" she repeated in a wondering voice. she gazed at her stolid companion with envy. "you have spoken to him? and he to you? when?" "a year ago, at suakin. else why should i be here?" the question came as a shock to ethne. she did not guess the correct answer; she was not, indeed, sufficiently mistress of herself to speculate upon any answer, but she dreaded it, whatever it might be. "yes," she said slowly, and almost reluctantly. "after all, why are you here?" willoughby took a letter-case from his breast, opened it with deliberation, and shook out from one of its pockets into the palm of his hand a tiny, soiled, white feather. he held it out to ethne. "i have come to give you this." ethne did not take it. in fact, she positively shrank from it. "why?" she asked unsteadily. "three white feathers, three separate accusations of cowardice, were sent to feversham by three separate men. this is actually one of those feathers which were forwarded from his lodgings to ramelton five years ago. i am one of the three men who sent them. i have come to tell you that i withdraw my accusation. i take my feather back." "and you bring it to me?" "he asked me to." ethne took the feather in her palm, a thing in itself so light and fragile and yet so momentous as a symbol, and the trees and the garden began to whirl suddenly about her. she was aware that captain willoughby was speaking, but his voice had grown extraordinarily distant and thin; so that she was annoyed, since she wished very much to hear all that he had to say. she felt very cold, even upon that august day of sunlight. but the presence of captain willoughby, one of the three men whom she never would forgive, helped her to command herself. she would give no exhibition of weakness before any one of the detested three, and with an effort she recovered herself when she was on the very point of swooning. "come," she said, "i will hear your story. your news was rather a shock to me. even now i do not quite understand." she led the way from that open space to a little plot of grass above the creek. on three sides thick hedges enclosed it, at the back rose the tall elms and poplars, in front the water flashed and broke in ripples, and beyond the water the trees rose again and were overtopped by sloping meadows. a gap in the hedge made an entrance into this enclosure, and a garden-seat stood in the centre of the grass. "now," said ethne, and she motioned to captain willoughby to take a seat at her side. "you will take your time, perhaps. you will forget nothing. even his words, if you remember them! i shall thank you for his words." she held that white feather clenched in her hand. somehow harry feversham had redeemed his honour, somehow she had been unjust to him; and she was to learn how. she was in no hurry. she did not even feel one pang of remorse that she had been unjust. remorse, no doubt, would come afterwards. at present the mere knowledge that she had been unjust was too great a happiness to admit of abatement. she opened her hand and looked at the feather. and as she looked, memories sternly repressed for so long, regrets which she had thought stifled quite out of life, longings which had grown strange, filled all her thoughts. the devonshire meadows were about her, the salt of the sea was in the air, but she was back again in the midst of that one season at dublin during a spring five years ago, before the feathers came to ramelton. willoughby began to tell his story, and almost at once even the memory of that season vanished. ethne was in the most english of counties, the county of plymouth and dartmouth and brixham and the start, where the red cliffs of its coast-line speak perpetually of dead centuries, so that one cannot put into any harbour without some thought of the spanish main and of the little barques and pinnaces which adventured manfully out on their long voyages with the tide. up this very creek the clink of the ship-builders' hammers had rung, and the soil upon its banks was vigorous with the memories of british sailors. but ethne had no thought for these associations. the country-side was a shifting mist before her eyes, which now and then let through a glimpse of that strange wide country in the east, of which durrance had so often told her. the only trees which she saw were the stunted mimosas of the desert; the only sea the great stretches of yellow sand; the only cliffs the sharp-peaked pyramidal black rocks rising abruptly from its surface. it was part of the irony of her position that she was able so much more completely to appreciate the trials which one lover of hers had undergone through the confidences which had been made to her by the other. chapter xv the story of the first feather "i will not interrupt you," said ethne, as willoughby took his seat beside her, and he had barely spoken a score of words before she broke that promise. "i am deputy-governor of suakin," he began. "my chief was on leave in may. you are fortunate enough not to know suakin, miss eustace, particularly in may. no white woman can live in that town. it has a sodden intolerable heat peculiar to itself. the air is heavy with brine; you can't sleep at night for its oppression. well, i was sitting in the verandah on the first floor of the palace about ten o'clock at night, looking out over the harbour and the distillation works, and wondering whether it was worth while to go to bed at all, when a servant told me that a man, who refused to give his name, wished particularly to see me. the man was feversham. there was only a lamp burning in the verandah, and the night was dark, so that i did not recognise him until he was close to me." and at once ethne interrupted. "how did he look?" willoughby wrinkled his forehead and opened his eyes wide. "really, i do not know," he said doubtfully. "much like other men, i suppose, who have been a year or two in the soudan, a trifle overtrained and that sort of thing." "never mind," said ethne, with a sigh of disappointment. for five years she had heard no word of harry feversham. she fairly hungered for news of him, for the sound of his habitual phrases, for the description of his familiar gestures. she had the woman's anxiety for his bodily health, she wished to know whether he had changed in face or figure, and, if so, how and in what measure. but she glanced at the obtuse, unobservant countenance of captain willoughby, and she understood that however much she craved for these particulars, she must go without. "i beg your pardon," she said. "will you go on?" "i asked him what he wanted," willoughby resumed, "and why he had not sent in his name. 'you would not have seen me if i had,' he replied, and he drew a packet of letters out of his pocket. now, those letters, miss eustace, had been written a long while ago by general gordon in khartum. they had been carried down the nile as far as berber. but the day after they reached berber, that town surrendered to the mahdists. abou fatma, the messenger who carried them, hid them in the wall of the house of an arab called yusef, who sold rock-salt in the market-place. abou was then thrown into prison on suspicion, and escaped to suakin. the letters remained hidden in that wall until feversham recovered them. i looked over them and saw that they were of no value, and i asked feversham bluntly why he, who had not dared to accompany his regiment on active service, had risked death and torture to get them back." standing upon that verandah, with the quiet pool of water in front of him, feversham had told his story quietly and without exaggeration. he had related how he had fallen in with abou fatma at suakin, how he had planned the recovery of the letters, how the two men had travelled together as far as obak, and since abou fatma dared not go farther, how he himself, driving his grey donkey, had gone on alone to berber. he had not even concealed that access of panic which had loosened his joints when first he saw the low brown walls of the town and the towering date palms behind on the bank of the nile; which had set him running and leaping across the empty desert in the sunlight, a marrowless thing of fear. he made, however, one omission. he said nothing of the hours which he had spent crouching upon the hot sand, with his coat drawn over his head, while he drew a woman's face toward him across the continents and seas and nerved himself to endure by the look of sorrow which it wore. "he went down into berber at the setting of the sun," said captain willoughby, and it was all that he had to say. it was enough, however, for ethne eustace. she drew a deep breath of relief, her face softened, there came a light into her grey eyes, and a smile upon her lips. "he went down into berber," she repeated softly. "and found that the old town had been destroyed by the orders of the emir, and that a new one was building upon its southern confines," continued willoughby. "all the landmarks by which feversham was to know the house in which the letters were hidden had gone. the roofs had been torn off, the houses dismantled, the front walls carried away. narrow alleys of crumbling fives-courts--that was how feversham described the place--crossing this way and that and gaping to the stars. here and there perhaps a broken tower rose up, the remnant of a rich man's house. but of any sign which could tell a man where the hut of yusef, who had once sold rock-salt in the market-place, had stood, there was no hope in those acres of crumbling mud. the foxes had already made their burrows there." the smile faded from ethne's face, but she looked again at the white feather lying in her palm, and she laughed with a great contentment. it was yellow with the desert dust. it was a proof that in this story there was to be no word of failure. "go on," she said. willoughby related the despatch of the negro with the donkey to abou fatma at the wells of obak. "feversham stayed for a fortnight in berber," willoughby continued. "a week during which he came every morning to the well and waited for the return of his negro from obak, and a week during which that negro searched for yusef, who had once sold rock-salt in the market-place. i doubt, miss eustace, if you can realise, however hard you try, what that fortnight must have meant to feversham--the anxiety, the danger, the continued expectation that a voice would bid him halt and a hand fall upon his shoulder, the urgent knowledge that if the hand fell, death would be the least part of his penalty. i imagine the town--a town of low houses and broad streets of sand, dug here and there into pits for mud wherewith to build the houses, and overhead the blistering sun and a hot shadowless sky. in no corner was there any darkness or concealment. and all day a crowd jostled and shouted up and down these streets--for that is the mahdist policy to crowd the towns so that all may be watched and every other man may be his neighbour's spy. feversham dared not seek the shelter of a roof at night, for he dared not trust his tongue. he could buy his food each day at the booths, but he was afraid of any conversation. he slept at night in some corner of the old deserted town, in the acres of the ruined fives-courts. for the same reason he must not slink in the by-ways by day lest any should question him about his business; nor listen on the chance of hearing yusef's name in the public places lest other loiterers should joke with him and draw him into their talk. nor dare he in the daylight prowl about those crumbled ruins. from sunrise to sunset he must go quickly up and down the streets of the town like a man bent upon urgent business which permits of no delay. and that continued for a fortnight, miss eustace! a weary, trying life, don't you think? i wish i could tell you of it as vividly as he told me that night upon the balcony of the palace at suakin." ethne wished it too with all her heart. harry feversham had made his story very real that night to captain willoughby; so that even after the lapse of fifteen months this unimaginative creature was sensible of a contrast and a deficiency in his manner of narration. "in front of us was the quiet harbour and the red sea, above us the african stars. feversham spoke in the quietest manner possible, but with a peculiar deliberation and with his eyes fixed upon my face, as though he was forcing me to feel with him and to understand. even when he lighted his cigar he did not avert his eyes. for by this time i had given him a cigar and offered him a chair. i had really, i assure you, miss eustace. it was the first time in four years that he had sat with one of his equals, or indeed with any of his countrymen on a footing of equality. he told me so. i wish i could remember all that he told me." willoughby stopped and cudgelled his brains helplessly. he gave up the effort in the end. "well," he resumed, "after feversham had skulked for a fortnight in berber, the negro discovered yusef, no longer selling salt, but tending a small plantation of dhurra on the river's edge. from yusef, feversham obtained particulars enough to guide him to the house where the letters were concealed in the inner wall. but yusef was no longer to be trusted. possibly feversham's accent betrayed him. the more likely conjecture is that yusef took feversham for a spy, and thought it wise to be beforehand and to confess to mohammed-el-kheir, the emir, his own share in the concealment of the letters. that, however, is a mere conjecture. the important fact is this. on the same night feversham went alone to old berber." "alone!" said ethne. "yes?" "he found the house fronting a narrow alley, and the sixth of the row. the front wall was destroyed, but the two side walls and the back wall still stood. three feet from the floor and two feet from the right-hand corner the letters were hidden in that inner wall. feversham dug into the mud bricks with his knife; he made a hole wherein he could slip his hand. the wall was thick; he dug deep, stopping now and again to feel for the packet. at last his fingers clasped and drew it out; as he hid it in a fold of his jibbeh, the light of a lantern shone upon him from behind." ethne started as though she had been trapped herself. those acres of roofless fives-courts, with here and there a tower showing up against the sky, the lonely alleys, the dead silence here beneath the stars, the cries and the beating of drums and the glare of lights from the new town, harry feversham alone with the letters, with, in a word, some portion of his honour redeemed, and finally, the lantern flashing upon him in that solitary place,--the scene itself and the progress of the incidents were so visible to ethne at that moment that even with the feather in her open palm she could hardly bring herself to believe that harry feversham had escaped. "well, well?" she asked. "he was standing with his face to the wall, the light came from the alley behind him. he did not turn, but out of the corner of his eye he could see a fold of a white robe hanging motionless. he carefully secured the package, with a care indeed and a composure which astonished him even at that moment. the shock had strung him to a concentration and lucidity of thought unknown to him till then. his fingers were trembling, he remarked, as he tied the knots, but it was with excitement, and an excitement which did not flurry. his mind worked rapidly, but quite coolly, quite deliberately. he came to a perfectly definite conclusion as to what he must do. every faculty which he possessed was extraordinarily clear, and at the same time extraordinarily still. he had his knife in his hand, he faced about suddenly and ran. there were two men waiting. feversham ran at the man who held the lantern. he was aware of the point of a spear, he ducked and beat it aside with his left arm, he leaped forward and struck with his right. the arab fell at his feet; the lantern was extinguished. feversham sprang across the white-robed body and ran eastward, toward the open desert. but in no panic; he had never been so collected. he was followed by the second soldier. he had foreseen that he would be followed. if he was to escape, it was indeed necessary that he should be. he turned a corner, crouched behind a wall, and as the arab came running by he leaped out upon his shoulders. and again as he leaped he struck." captain willoughby stopped at this point of his story and turned towards ethne. he had something to say which perplexed and at the same time impressed him, and he spoke with a desire for an explanation. "the strangest feature of those few fierce, short minutes," he said, "was that feversham felt no fear. i don't understand that, do you? from the first moment when the lantern shone upon him from behind, to the last when he turned his feet eastward, and ran through the ruined alleys and broken walls toward the desert and the wells of obak, he felt no fear." this was the most mysterious part of harry feversham's story to captain willoughby. here was a man who so shrank from the possibilities of battle, that he must actually send in his papers rather than confront them; yet when he stood in dire and immediate peril he felt no fear. captain willoughby might well turn to ethne for an explanation. there had been no mystery in it to harry feversham, but a great bitterness of spirit. he had sat on the verandah at suakin, whittling away at the edge of captain willoughby's table with the very knife which he had used in berber to dig out the letters, and which had proved so handy a weapon when the lantern shone out behind him--the one glimmering point of light in that vast acreage of ruin. harry feversham had kept it carefully uncleansed of blood; he had treasured it all through his flight across the two hundred and forty odd miles of desert into suakin; it was, next to the white feathers, the thing which he held most precious of his possessions, and not merely because it would serve as a corroboration of his story to captain willoughby, but because the weapon enabled him to believe and realise it himself. a brown clotted rust dulled the whole length of the blade, and often during the first two days and nights of his flight, when he travelled alone, hiding and running and hiding again, with the dread of pursuit always at his heels, he had taken the knife from his breast, and stared at it with incredulous eyes, and clutched it close to him like a thing of comfort. he had lost his way amongst the sandhills of obak on the evening of the second day, and had wandered vainly, with his small store of dates and water exhausted, until he had stumbled and lay prone, parched and famished and enfeebled, with the bitter knowledge that abou fatma and the wells were somewhere within a mile of the spot on which he lay. but even at that moment of exhaustion the knife had been a talisman and a help. he grasped the rough wooden handle, all too small for a western hand, and he ran his fingers over the rough rust upon the blade, and the weapon spoke to him and bade him take heart, since once he had been put to the test and had not failed. but long before he saw the white houses of suakin that feeling of elation vanished, and the knife became an emblem of the vain tortures of his boyhood and the miserable folly which culminated in his resignation of his commission. he understood now the words which lieutenant sutch had spoken in the grill-room of the criterion restaurant, when citing hamlet as his example, "the thing which he saw, which he thought over, which he imagined in the act and in the consequence--that he shrank from. yet when the moment of action comes sharp and immediate, does he fail?" and remembering the words, harry feversham sat one may night, four years afterwards, in captain willoughby's verandah, whittling away at the table with his knife, and saying over and over again in a bitter savage voice: "it was an illusion, but an illusion which has caused a great deal of suffering to a woman i would have shielded from suffering. but i am well paid for it, for it has wrecked my life besides." captain willoughby could not understand, any more than general feversham could have understood, or than ethne had. but willoughby could at all events remember and repeat, and ethne had grown by five years of unhappiness since the night when harry feversham, in the little room off the hall at lennon house, had told her of his upbringing, of the loss of his mother, and the impassable gulf between his father and himself, and of the fear of disgrace which had haunted his nights and disfigured the world for him by day. "yes, it was an illusion," she cried. "i understand. i might have understood a long while since, but i would not. when those feathers came he told me why they were sent, quite simply, with his eyes on mine. when my father knew of them, he waited quite steadily and faced my father." there was other evidence of the like kind not within ethne's knowledge. harry feversham had journeyed down to broad place in surrey and made his confession no less unflinchingly to the old general. but ethne knew enough. "it was the possibility of cowardice from which he shrank, not the possibility of hurt," she exclaimed. "if only one had been a little older, a little less sure about things, a little less narrow! i should have listened. i should have understood. at all events, i should not, i think, have been cruel." not for the first time did remorse for that fourth feather which she had added to the three, seize upon her. she sat now crushed by it into silence. captain willoughby, however, was a stubborn man, unwilling upon any occasion to admit an error. he saw that ethne's remorse by implication condemned himself, and that he was not prepared to suffer. "yes, but these fine distinctions are a little too elusive for practical purposes," he said. "you can't run the world on fine distinctions; so i cannot bring myself to believe that we three men were at all to blame, and if we were not, you of all people can have no reason for self-reproach." ethne did not consider what he precisely meant by the last reference to herself. for as he leaned complacently back in his seat, anger against him flamed suddenly hot in her. occupied by his story, she had ceased to take stock of the story-teller. now that he had ended, she looked him over from head to foot. an obstinate stupidity was the mark of the man to her eye. how dare he sit in judgment upon the meanest of his fellows, let alone harry feversham? she asked, and in the same moment recollected that she herself had endorsed his judgment. shame tingled through all her blood; she sat with her lips set, keeping willoughby under watch from the corners of her eyes, and waiting to pounce savagely the moment he opened his lips. there had been noticeable throughout his narrative a manner of condescension towards feversham. "let him use it again!" thought ethne. but captain willoughby said nothing at all, and ethne herself broke the silence. "who of you three first thought of sending the feathers?" she asked aggressively. "not you?" "no; i think it was trench," he replied. "ah, trench!" ethne exclaimed. she struck one clenched hand, the hand which held the feather, viciously into the palm of the other. "i will remember that name." "but i share his responsibility," willoughby assured her. "i do not shrink from it at all. i regret very much that we caused you pain and annoyance, but i do not acknowledge to any mistake in this matter. i take my feather back now, and i annul my accusation. but that is your doing." "mine?" asked ethne. "what do you mean?" captain willoughby turned with surprise to his companion. "a man may live in the soudan and even yet not be wholly ignorant of women and their great quality of forgiveness. you gave the feathers back to feversham in order that he might redeem his honour. that is evident." ethne sprang to her feet before captain willoughby had come to the end of his sentence, and stood a little in front of him, with her face averted, and in an attitude remarkably still. willoughby in his ignorance, like many another stupid man before him, had struck with a shrewdness and a vigour which he could never have compassed by the use of his wits. he had pointed out abruptly and suddenly to ethne a way which she might have taken and had not, and her remorse warned her very clearly that it was the way which she ought to have taken. but she could rise to the heights. she did not seek to justify herself in her own eyes, nor would she allow willoughby to continue in his misconception. she recognised that here she had failed in charity and justice, and she was glad that she had failed, since her failure had been the opportunity of greatness to harry feversham. "will you repeat what you said?" she asked in a low voice; "and ever so slowly, please." "you gave the feathers back into feversham's hand--" "he told you that himself?" "yes;" and willoughby resumed, "in order that he might by his subsequent bravery compel the men who sent them to take them back, and so redeem his honour." "he did not tell you that?" "no. i guessed it. you see, feversham's disgrace was, on the face of it, impossible to retrieve. the opportunity might never have occurred--it was not likely to occur. as things happened, feversham still waited for three years in the bazaar at suakin before it did. no, miss eustace, it needed a woman's faith to conceive that plan--a woman's encouragement to keep the man who undertook it to his work." ethne laughed and turned back to him. her face was tender with pride, and more than tender. pride seemed in some strange way to hallow her, to give an unimagined benignance to her eyes, an unearthly brightness to the smile upon her lips and the colour upon her cheeks. so that willoughby, looking at her, was carried out of himself. "yes," he cried, "you were the woman to plan this redemption." ethne laughed again, and very happily. "did he tell you of a fourth white feather?" she asked. "no." "i shall tell you the truth," she said, as she resumed her seat. "the plan was of his devising from first to last. nor did i encourage him to its execution. for until to-day i never heard a word of it. since the night of that dance in donegal i have had no message from mr. feversham, and no news of him. i told him to take up those three feathers because they were his, and i wished to show him that i agreed with the accusations of which they were the symbols. that seems cruel? but i did more. i snapped a fourth white feather from my fan and gave him that to carry away too. it is only fair that you should know. i wanted to make an end for ever and ever, not only of my acquaintanceship with him, but of every kindly thought he might keep of me, of every kindly thought i might keep of him. i wanted to be sure myself, and i wanted him to be sure, that we should always be strangers now and--and afterwards," and the last words she spoke in a whisper. captain willoughby did not understand what she meant by them. it is possible that only lieutenant sutch and harry feversham himself would have understood. "i was sad and sorry enough when i had done it," she resumed. "indeed, indeed, i think i have always been sorry since. i think that i have never at any minute during these five years quite forgotten that fourth white feather and the quiet air of dignity with which he took it. but to-day i am glad." and her voice, though low, rang rich with the fulness of her pride. "oh, very glad! for this was his thought, his deed. they are both all his, as i would have them be. i had no share, and of that i am very proud. he needed no woman's faith, no woman's encouragement." "yet he sent this back to you," said willoughby, pointing in some perplexity to the feather which ethne held. "yes," she said, "yes. he knew that i should be glad to know." and suddenly she held it close to her breast. thus she sat for a while with her eyes shining, until willoughby rose to his feet and pointed to the gap in the hedge by which they had entered the enclosure. "by jove! jack durrance," he exclaimed. durrance was standing in the gap, which was the only means of entering or going out. chapter xvi captain willoughby retires ethne had entirely forgotten even colonel durrance's existence. from the moment when captain willoughby had put that little soiled feather which had once been white, and was now yellow, into her hand, she had had no thought for any one but harry feversham. she had carried willoughby into that enclosure, and his story had absorbed her and kept her memory on the rack, as she filled out with this or that recollected detail of harry's gestures, or voice, or looks, the deficiencies in her companion's narrative. she had been swept away from that august garden of sunlight and coloured flowers; and those five most weary years, during which she had held her head high and greeted the world with a smile of courage, were blotted from her experience. how weary they had been perhaps she never knew, until she raised her head and saw durrance at the entrance in the hedge. "hush!" she said to willoughby, and her face paled and her eyes shut tight for a moment with a spasm of pain. but she had no time to spare for any indulgence of her feelings. her few minutes' talk with captain willoughby had been a holiday, but the holiday was over. she must take up again the responsibilities with which those five years had charged her, and at once. if she could not accomplish that hard task of forgetting--and she now knew very well that she never would accomplish it--she must do the next best thing, and give no sign that she had not forgotten. durrance must continue to believe that she brought more than friendship into the marriage account. he stood at the very entrance to the enclosure; he advanced into it. he was so quick to guess, it was not wise that he should meet captain willoughby or even know of his coming. ethne looked about her for an escape, knowing very well that she would look in vain. the creek was in front of them, and three walls of high thick hedge girt them in behind and at the sides. there was but one entrance to this enclosure, and durrance himself barred the path to it. "keep still," she said in a whisper. "you know him?" "of course. we were together for three years at suakin. i heard that he had gone blind. i am glad to know that it is not true." this he said, noticing the freedom of durrance's gait. "speak lower," returned ethne. "it is true. he _is_ blind." "one would never have thought it. consolations seem so futile. what can i say to him?" "say nothing!" durrance was still standing just within the enclosure, and, as it seemed, looking straight towards the two people seated on the bench. "ethne," he said, rather than called; and the quiet unquestioning voice made the illusion that he saw extraordinarily complete. "it's impossible that he is blind," said willoughby. "he sees us." "he sees nothing." again durrance called "ethne," but now in a louder voice, and a voice of doubt. "do you hear? he is not sure," whispered ethne. "keep very still." "why?" "he must not know you are here," and lest willoughby should move, she caught his arm tight in her hand. willoughby did not pursue his inquiries. ethne's manner constrained him to silence. she sat very still, still as she wished him to sit, and in a queer huddled attitude; she was even holding her breath; she was staring at durrance with a great fear in her eyes; her face was strained forward, and not a muscle of it moved, so that willoughby, as he looked at her, was conscious of a certain excitement, which grew on him for no reason but her remarkable apprehension. he began unaccountably himself to fear lest he and she should be discovered. "he is coming towards us," he whispered. "not a word, not a movement." "ethne," durrance cried again. he advanced farther into the enclosure and towards the seat. ethne and captain willoughby sat rigid, watching him with their eyes. he passed in front of the bench, and stopped actually facing them. surely, thought willoughby, he sees. his eyes were upon them; he stood easily, as though he were about to speak. even ethne, though she very well knew that he did not see, began to doubt her knowledge. "ethne!" he said again, and this time in the quiet voice which he had first used. but since again no answer came, he shrugged his shoulders and turned towards the creek. his back was towards them now, but ethne's experience had taught her to appreciate almost indefinable signs in his bearing, since nowadays his face showed her so little. something in his attitude, in the poise of his head, even in the carelessness with which he swung his stick, told her that he was listening, and listening with all his might. her grasp tightened on willoughby's arm. thus they remained for the space of a minute, and then durrance turned suddenly and took a quick step towards the seat. ethne, however, by this time knew the man and his ingenuities; she was prepared for some such unexpected movement. she did not stir, there was not audible the merest rustle of her skirt, and her grip still constrained willoughby. "i wonder where in the world she can be," said durrance to himself aloud, and he walked back and out of the enclosure. ethne did not free captain willoughby's arm until durrance had disappeared from sight. "that was a close shave," willoughby said, when at last he was allowed to speak. "suppose that durrance had sat down on the top of us?" "why suppose, since he did not?" ethne asked calmly. "you have told me everything?" "so far as i remember." "and all that you have told me happened in the spring?" "the spring of last year," said willoughby. "yes. i want to ask you a question. why did you not bring this feather to me last summer?" "last year my leave was short. i spent it in the hills north of suakin after ibex." "i see," said ethne, quietly; "i hope you had good sport." "it wasn't bad." last summer ethne had been free. if willoughby had come home with his good news instead of shooting ibex on jebel araft, it would have made all the difference in her life, and the cry was loud at her heart, "why didn't you come?" but outwardly she gave no sign of the irreparable harm which willoughby's delay had brought about. she had the self-command of a woman who has been sorely tried, and she spoke so unconcernedly that willoughby believed her questions prompted by the merest curiosity. "you might have written," she suggested. "feversham did not suggest that there was any hurry. it would have been a long and difficult matter to explain in a letter. he asked me to go to you when i had an opportunity, and i had no opportunity before. to tell the truth, i thought it very likely that i might find feversham had come back before me." "oh, no," returned ethne, "there could be no possibility of that. the other two feathers still remain to be redeemed before he will ask me to take back mine." willoughby shook his head. "feversham can never persuade castleton and trench to cancel their accusations as he persuaded me." "why not?" "major castleton was killed when the square was broken at tamai." "killed?" cried ethne, and she laughed in a short and satisfied way. willoughby turned and stared at her, disbelieving the evidence of his ears. but her face showed him quite clearly that she was thoroughly pleased. ethne was a celt, and she had the celtic feeling that death was not a very important matter. she could hate, too, and she could be hard as iron to the men she hated. and these three men she hated exceedingly. it was true that she had agreed with them, that she had given a feather, the fourth feather, to harry feversham just to show that she agreed, but she did not trouble her head about that. she was very glad to hear that major castleton was out of the world and done with. "and colonel trench too?" she said. "no," willoughby answered. "you are disappointed? but he is even worse off than that. he was captured when engaged on a reconnaissance. he is now a prisoner in omdurman." "ah!" said ethne. "i don't think you can have any idea," said willoughby, severely, "of what captivity in omdurman implies. if you had, however much you disliked the captive, you would feel some pity." "not i," said ethne, stubbornly. "i will tell you something of what it does imply." "no. i don't wish to hear of colonel trench. besides, you must go. i want you to tell me one thing first," said she, as she rose from her seat. "what became of mr. feversham after he had given you that feather?" "i told him that he had done everything which could be reasonably expected; and he accepted my advice. for he went on board the first steamer which touched at suakin on its way to suez and so left the soudan." "i must find out where he is. he must come, back. did he need money?" "no. he still drew his allowance from his father. he told me that he had more than enough." "i am glad of that," said ethne, and she bade willoughby wait within the enclosure until she returned, and went out by herself to see that the way was clear. the garden was quite empty. durrance had disappeared from it, and the great stone terrace of the house and the house itself, with its striped sunblinds, looked a place of sleep. it was getting towards one o'clock, and the very birds were quiet amongst the trees. indeed the quietude of the garden struck upon ethne's senses as something almost strange. only the bees hummed drowsily about the flowerbeds, and the voice of a lad was heard calling from the slopes of meadow on the far side of the creek. she returned to captain willoughby. "you can go now," she said. "i cannot pretend friendship for you, captain willoughby, but it was kind of you to find me out and tell me your story. you are going back at once to kingsbridge? i hope so. for i do not wish colonel durrance to know of your visit or anything of what you have told me." "durrance was a friend of feversham's--his great friend," willoughby objected. "he is quite unaware that any feathers were sent to mr. feversham, so there is no need he should be informed that one of them has been taken back," ethne answered. "he does not know why my engagement to mr. feversham was broken off. i do not wish him to know. your story would enlighten him, and he must not be enlightened." "why?" asked willoughby. he was obstinate by nature, and he meant to have the reason for silence before he promised to keep it. ethne gave it to him at once very simply. "i am engaged to colonel durrance," she said. it was her fear that durrance already suspected that no stronger feeling than friendship attached her to him. if once he heard that the fault which broke her engagement to harry feversham had been most bravely atoned, there could be no doubt as to the course which he would insist upon pursuing. he would strip himself of her, the one thing left to him, and that she was stubbornly determined he should not do. she was bound to him in honour, and it would be a poor way of manifesting her joy that harry feversham had redeemed his honour if she straightway sacrificed her own. captain willoughby pursed up his lips and whistled. "engaged to jack durrance!" he exclaimed. "then i seem to have wasted my time in bringing you that feather," and he pointed towards it. she was holding it in her open hand, and she drew her hand sharply away, as though she feared for a moment that he meant to rob her of it. "i am most grateful for it," she returned. "it's a bit of a muddle, isn't it?" willoughby remarked. "it seems a little rough on feversham perhaps. it's a little rough on jack durrance, too, when you come to think of it." then he looked at ethne. he noticed her careful handling of the feather; he remembered something of the glowing look with which she had listened to his story, something of the eager tones in which she had put her questions; and he added, "i shouldn't wonder if it was rather rough on you too, miss eustace." ethne did not answer him, and they walked together out of the enclosure towards the spot where willoughby had moored his boat. she hurried him down the bank to the water's edge, intent that he should sail away unperceived. but ethne had counted without mrs. adair, who all that morning had seen much in ethne's movements to interest her. from the drawing-room window she had watched ethne and durrance meet at the foot of the terrace-steps, she had seen them walk together towards the estuary, she had noticed willoughby's boat as it ran aground in the wide gap between the trees, she had seen a man disembark, and ethne go forward to meet him. mrs. adair was not the woman to leave her post of observation at such a moment, and from the cover of the curtains she continued to watch with all the curiosity of a woman in a village who draws down the blind, that unobserved she may get a better peep at the stranger passing down the street. ethne and the man from the boat turned away and disappeared amongst the trees, leaving durrance forgotten and alone. mrs. adair thought at once of that enclosure at the water's edge. the conversation lasted for some while, and since the couple did not promptly reappear, a question flashed into her mind. "could the stranger be harry feversham?" ethne had no friends in this part of the world. the question pressed upon mrs. adair. she longed for an answer, and of course for that particular answer which would convict ethne eustace of duplicity. her interest grew into an excitement when she saw durrance, tired of waiting, follow upon ethne's steps. but what came after was to interest her still more. durrance reappeared, to her surprise alone, and came straight to the house, up the terrace, into the drawing-room. "have you seen ethne?" he asked. "is she not in the little garden by the water?" mrs. adair asked. "no. i went into it and called to her. it was empty." "indeed?" said mrs. adair. "then i don't know where she is. are you going?" "yes, home." mrs. adair made no effort to detain him at that moment. "perhaps you will come in and dine to-night. eight o'clock." "thanks, very much. i shall be pleased," said durrance, but he did not immediately go. he stood by the window idly swinging to and fro the tassel of the blind. "i did not know until to-day that it was your plan that i should come home and ethne stay with you until i found out whether a cure was likely or possible. it was very kind of you, mrs. adair, and i am grateful." "it was a natural plan to propose as soon as i heard of your ill-luck." "and when was that?" he asked unconcernedly. "the day after calder's telegram reached her from wadi halfa, i suppose." mrs. adair was not deceived by his attitude of carelessness. she realised that his expression of gratitude had deliberately led up to this question. "oh, so you knew of that telegram," she said. "i thought you did not." for ethne had asked her not to mention it on the very day when durrance returned to england. "of course i knew of it," he returned, and without waiting any longer for an answer he went out on to the terrace. mrs. adair dismissed for the moment the mystery of the telegram. she was occupied by her conjecture that in the little garden by the water's edge durrance had stood and called aloud for ethne, while within twelve yards of him, perhaps actually within his reach, she and some one else had kept very still and had given no answer. her conjecture was soon proved true. she saw ethne and her companion come out again on to the open lawn. was it feversham? she must have an answer to that question. she saw them descend the bank towards the boat, and, stepping from her window, ran. thus it happened that as willoughby rose from loosening the painter, he saw mrs. adair's disappointed eyes gazing into his. mrs. adair called to ethne, who stood by captain willoughby, and came down the bank to them. "i noticed you cross the lawn from the drawing-room window," she said. "yes?" answered ethne, and she said no more. mrs. adair, however, did not move away, and an awkward pause followed. ethne was forced to give in. "i was talking to captain willoughby," and she turned to him. "you do not know mrs. adair, i think?" "no," he replied, as he raised his hat. "but i know mrs. adair very well by name. i know friends of yours, mrs. adair--durrance, for instance; and of course i knew--" a glance from ethne brought him abruptly to a stop. he began vigorously to push the nose of his boat from the sand. "of course, what?" asked mrs. adair, with a smile. "of course i knew of you, mrs. adair." mrs. adair was quite clear that this was not what willoughby had been on the point of saying when ethne turned her eyes quietly upon him and cut him short. he was on the point of adding another name. "captain willoughby," she repeated to herself. then she said:-- "you belong to colonel durrance's regiment, perhaps?" "no, i belong to the north surrey," he answered. "ah! mr. feversham's old regiment," said mrs. adair, pleasantly. captain willoughby had fallen into her little trap with a guilelessness which provoked in her a desire for a closer acquaintanceship. whatever willoughby knew it would be easy to extract. ethne, however, had disconcerting ways which at times left mrs. adair at a loss. she looked now straight into mrs. adair's eyes and said calmly:-- "captain willoughby and i have been talking of mr. feversham." at the same time she held out her hand to the captain. "good-bye," she said. mrs. adair hastily interrupted. "colonel durrance has gone home, but he dines with us to-night. i came out to tell you that, but i am glad that i came, for it gives me the opportunity to ask your friend to lunch with us if he will." captain willoughby, who already had one leg over the bows of his boat, withdrew it with alacrity. "it's awfully good of you, mrs. adair," he began. "it is very kind indeed," ethne continued, "but captain willoughby has reminded me that his leave is very short, and we have no right to detain him. good-bye." captain willoughby gazed with a vain appeal upon miss eustace. he had travelled all night from london, he had made the scantiest breakfast at kingsbridge, and the notion of lunch appealed to him particularly at that moment. but her eyes rested on his with a quiet and inexorable command. he bowed, got ruefully into his boat, and pushed off from the shore. "it's a little bit rough on me too, perhaps, miss eustace," he said. ethne laughed, and returned to the terrace with mrs. adair. once or twice she opened the palm of her hand and disclosed to her companion's view a small white feather, at which she laughed again, and with a clear and rather low laugh. but she gave no explanation of captain willoughby's errand. had she been in mrs. adair's place she would not have expected one. it was her business and only hers. chapter xvii the musoline overture mrs. adair, on her side, asked for no explanations. she was naturally, behind her pale and placid countenance, a woman of a tortuous and intriguing mind. she preferred to look through a keyhole even when she could walk straight in at the door; and knowledge which could be gained by a little maneuvering was always more desirable and precious in her eyes than any information which a simple question would elicit. she avoided, indeed, the direct question on a perverted sort of principle, and she thought a day very well spent if at the close of it she had outwitted a companion into telling her spontaneously some trivial and unimportant piece of news which a straightforward request would have at once secured for her at breakfast-time. therefore, though she was mystified by the little white feather upon which ethne seemed to set so much store, and wondered at the good news of harry feversham which captain willoughby had brought, and vainly puzzled her brains in conjecture as to what in the world could have happened on that night at ramelton so many years ago, she betrayed nothing whatever of her perplexity all through lunch; on the contrary, she plied her guest with conversation upon indifferent topics. mrs. adair could be good company when she chose, and she chose now. but it was not to any purpose. "i don't believe that you hear a single word i am saying!" she exclaimed. ethne laughed and pleaded guilty. she betook herself to her room as soon as lunch was finished, and allowed herself an afternoon of solitude. sitting at her window, she repeated slowly the story which willoughby had told to her that morning, and her heart thrilled to it as to music divinely played. the regret that he had not come home and told it a year ago, when she was free, was a small thing in comparison with the story itself. it could not outweigh the great gladness which that brought to her--it had, indeed, completely vanished from her thoughts. her pride, which had never recovered from the blow which harry feversham had dealt to her in the hall at lennon house, was now quite restored, and by the man who had dealt the blow. she was aglow with it, and most grateful to harry feversham for that he had, at so much peril to himself, restored it. she was conscious of a new exhilaration in the sunlight, of a quicker pulsation in her blood. her youth was given back to her upon that august afternoon. ethne unlocked a drawer in her dressing-case, and took from it the portrait which alone of all harry feversham's presents she had kept. she rejoiced that she had kept it. it was the portrait of some one who was dead to her--that she knew very well, for there was no thought of disloyalty toward durrance in her breast--but the some one was a friend. she looked at it with a great happiness and contentment, because harry feversham had needed no expression of faith from her to inspire him, and no encouragement from her to keep him through the years on the level of his high inspiration. when she put it back again, she laid the white feather in the drawer with it and locked the two things up together. she came back to her window. out upon the lawn a light breeze made the shadows from the high trees dance, the sunlight mellowed and reddened. but ethne was of her county, as harry feversham had long ago discovered, and her heart yearned for it at this moment. it was the month of august. the first of the heather would be out upon the hillsides of donegal, and she wished that the good news had been brought to her there. the regret that it had not was her crumpled rose-leaf. here she was in a strange land; there the brown mountains, with their outcroppings of granite and the voices of the streams, would have shared, she almost thought, in her new happiness. great sorrows or great joys had this in common for ethne eustace, they both drew her homewards, since there endurance was more easy and gladness more complete. she had, however, one living tie with donegal at her side, for dermod's old collie dog had become her inseparable companion. to him she made her confidence, and if at times her voice broke in tears, why, the dog would not tell. she came to understand much which willoughby had omitted, and which feversham had never told. those three years of concealment in the small and crowded city of suakin, for instance, with the troops marching out to battle, and returning dust-strewn and bleeding and laurelled with victory. harry feversham had to slink away at their approach, lest some old friend of his--durrance, perhaps, or willoughby, or trench--should notice him and penetrate his disguise. the panic which had beset him when first he saw the dark brown walls of berber, the night in the ruined acres, the stumbling search for the well amongst the shifting sandhills of obak,--ethne had vivid pictures of these incidents, and as she thought of each she asked herself: "where was i then? what was i doing?" she sat in a golden mist until the lights began to change upon the still water of the creek, and the rooks wheeled noisily out from the tree-tops to sort themselves for the night, and warned her of evening. she brought to the dinner-table that night a buoyancy of spirit which surprised her companions. mrs. adair had to admit that seldom had her eyes shone so starrily, or the colour so freshly graced her cheeks. she was more than ever certain that captain willoughby had brought stirring news; she was more than ever tortured by her vain efforts to guess its nature. but mrs. adair, in spite of her perplexities, took her share in the talk, and that dinner passed with a freedom from embarrassment unknown since durrance had come home to guessens. for he, too, threw off a burden of restraint; his spirits rose to match ethne's; he answered laugh with laugh, and from his face that habitual look of tension, the look of a man listening with all his might that his ears might make good the loss of his eyes, passed altogether away. "you will play on your violin to-night, i think," he said with a smile, as they rose from the table. "yes," she answered, "i will--with all my heart." durrance laughed and held open the door. the violin had remained locked in its case during these last two months. durrance had come to look upon that violin as a gauge and test. if the world was going well with ethne, the case was unlocked, the instrument was allowed to speak; if the world went ill, it was kept silent lest it should say too much, and open old wounds and lay them bare to other eyes. ethne herself knew it for an indiscreet friend. but it was to be brought out to-night. mrs. adair lingered until ethne was out of ear-shot. "you have noticed the change in her to-night?" she said. "yes. have i not?" answered durrance. "one has waited for it, hoped for it, despaired of it." "are you so glad of the change?" durrance threw back his head. "do you wonder that i am glad? kind, friendly, unselfish--these things she has always been. but there is more than friendliness evident to-night, and for the first time it's evident." there came a look of pity upon mrs. adair's face, and she passed out of the room without another word. durrance took all of that great change in ethne to himself. mrs. adair drew up the blinds of the drawing-room, opened the window, and let the moonlight in; and then, as she saw ethne unlocking the case of her violin, she went out on to the terrace. she felt that she could not sit patiently in her company. so that when durrance entered the drawing-room he found ethne alone there. she was seated in the window, and already tightening the strings of her violin. durrance took a chair behind her in the shadows. "what shall i play to you?" she asked. "the musoline overture," he answered. "you played it on the first evening when i came to ramelton. i remember so well how you played it then. play it again to-night. i want to compare." "i have played it since." "never to me." they were alone in the room; the windows stood open; it was a night of moonlight. ethne suddenly crossed to the lamp and put it out. she resumed her seat, while durrance remained in the shadow, leaning forward, with his hands upon his knees, listening--but with an intentness of which he had given no sign that evening. he was applying, as he thought, a final test upon which his life and hers should be decided. ethne's violin would tell him assuredly whether he was right or no. would friendship speak from it or the something more than friendship? ethne played the overture, and as she played she forgot that durrance was in the room behind her. in the garden the air was still and summer-warm and fragrant; on the creek the moonlight lay like a solid floor of silver; the trees stood dreaming to the stars; and as the music floated loud out across the silent lawn, ethne had a sudden fancy that it might perhaps travel down the creek and over salcombe bar and across the moonlit seas, and strike small yet wonderfully clear like fairy music upon the ears of a man sleeping somewhere far away beneath the brightness of the southern stars with the cool night wind of the desert blowing upon his face. "if he could only hear!" she thought. "if he could only wake and know that what he heard was a message of friendship!" and with this fancy in her mind she played with such skill as she had never used before; she made of her violin a voice of sympathy. the fancy grew and changed as she played. the music became a bridge swung in mid-air across the world, upon which just for these few minutes she and harry feversham might meet and shake hands. they would separate, of course, forthwith, and each one go upon the allotted way. but these few minutes would be a help to both along the separate ways. the chords rang upon silence. it seemed to ethne that they declaimed the pride which had come to her that day. her fancy grew into a belief. it was no longer "if he should hear," but "he _must_ hear!" and so carried away was she from the discretion of thought that a strange hope suddenly sprang up and enthralled her. "if he could answer!" she lingered upon the last bars, waiting for the answer; and when the music had died down to silence, she sat with her violin upon her knees, looking eagerly out across the moonlit garden. and an answer did come, but it was not carried up the creek and across the lawn. it came from the dark shadows of the room behind her, and it was spoken through the voice of durrance. "ethne, where do you think i heard that overture last played?" ethne was roused with a start to the consciousness that durrance was in the room, and she answered like one shaken suddenly out of sleep. "why, you told me. at ramelton, when you first came to lennon house." "i have heard it since, though it was not played by you. it was not really played at all. but a melody of it and not even that really, but a suggestion of a melody, i heard stumbled out upon a zither, with many false notes, by a greek in a bare little whitewashed café, lit by one glaring lamp, at wadi halfa." "this overture?" she said. "how strange!" "not so strange after all. for the greek was harry feversham." so the answer had come. ethne had no doubt that it was an answer. she sat very still in the moonlight; only had any one bent over her with eyes to see, he would have discovered that her eyelids were closed. there followed a long silence. she did not consider why durrance, having kept this knowledge secret so long, should speak of it now. she did not ask what harry feversham was doing that he must play the zither in a mean café at wadi halfa. but it seemed to her that he had spoken to her as she to him. the music had, after all, been a bridge. it was not even strange that he had used durrance's voice wherewith to speak to her. "when was this?" she asked at length. "in february of this year. i will tell you about it." "yes, please, tell me." and durrance spoke out of the shadows of the room. chapter xviii the answer to the overture ethne did not turn towards durrance or move at all from her attitude. she sat with her violin upon her knees, looking across the moonlit garden to the band of silver in the gap of the trees; and she kept her position deliberately. for it helped her to believe that harry feversham himself was speaking to her, she was able to forget that he was speaking through the voice of durrance. she almost forgot that durrance was even in the room. she listened with durrance's own intentness, and anxious that the voice should speak very slowly, so that the message might take a long time in the telling, and she gather it all jealously to her heart. "it was on the night before i started eastward into the desert--for the last time," said durrance, and the deep longing and regret with which he dwelt upon that "last time" for once left ethne quite untouched. "yes," she said. "that was in february. the middle of the month, wasn't it? do you remember the day? i should like to know the exact day if you can tell me." "the fifteenth," said durrance; and ethne repeated the date meditatively. "i was at glenalla all february," she said. "what was i doing on the fifteenth? it does not matter." she had felt a queer sort of surprise all the time while willoughby was telling his story that morning, that she had not known, by some instinct, of these incidents at the actual moment of their occurrence. the surprise returned to her now. it was strange that she should have had to wait for this august night and this summer garden of moonlight and closed flowers before she learned of the meeting between feversham and durrance on february and heard the message. and remorse came to her because of that delay. "it was my own fault," she said to herself. "if i had kept my faith in him i should have known at once. i am well punished." it did not at all occur to her that the message could convey any but the best of news. it would carry on the good tidings which she had already heard. it would enlarge and complete, so that this day might be rounded to perfection. of this she was quite sure. "well?" she said. "go on!" "i had been busy all that day in my office finishing up my work. i turned the key in the door at ten o'clock, thinking with relief that for six weeks i should not open it, and i strolled northward out of wadi halfa along the nile bank into the little town of tewfikieh. as i entered the main street i saw a small crowd--arabs, negroes, a greek or two, and some egyptian soldiers, standing outside the café, and lit up by a glare of light from within. as i came nearer i heard the sound of a violin and a zither, both most vilely played, jingling out a waltz. i stood at the back of the crowd and looked over the shoulders of the men in front of me into the room. it was a place of four bare whitewashed walls; a bar stood in one corner, a wooden bench or two were ranged against the walls, and a single unshaded paraffin lamp swung and glared from the ceiling. a troupe of itinerant musicians were playing to that crowd of negroes and arabs and egyptians for a night's lodging and the price of a meal. there were four of them, and, so far as i could see, all four were greeks. two were evidently man and wife. they were both old, both slatternly and almost in rags; the man a thin, sallow-faced fellow, with grey hair and a black moustache; the woman fat, coarse of face, unwieldy of body. of the other two, one it seemed must be their daughter, a girl of seventeen, not good-looking really, but dressed and turned out with a scrupulous care, which in those sordid and mean surroundings lent her good looks. the care, indeed, with which she was dressed assured me she was their daughter, and to tell the truth, i was rather touched by the thought that the father and mother would go in rags so that she at all costs might be trim. a clean ribbon bound back her hair, an untorn frock of some white stuff clothed her tidily; even her shoes were neat. the fourth was a young man; he was seated in the window, with his back towards me, bending over his zither. but i could see that he wore a beard. when i came up the old man was playing the violin, though playing is not indeed the word. the noise he made was more like the squeaking of a pencil on a slate; it set one's teeth on edge; the violin itself seemed to squeal with pain. and while he fiddled, and the young man hammered at his zither, the old woman and girl slowly revolved in a waltz. it may sound comic to hear about, but if you could have seen! ... it fairly plucked at one's heart. i do not think that i have ever in my life witnessed anything quite so sad. the little crowd outside, negroes, mind you, laughing at the troupe, passing from one to the other any sort of low jest at their expense, and inside the four white people--the old woman, clumsy, heavy-footed, shining with heat, lumbering round slowly, panting with her exertions; the girl, lissom and young; the two men with their discordant, torturing music; and just above you the great planets and stars of an african sky, and just about you the great silent and spacious dignity of the moonlit desert. imagine it! the very ineptness of the entertainment actually hurt one." he paused for a moment, while ethne pictured to herself the scene which he had described. she saw harry feversham bending over his zither, and at once she asked herself, "what was he doing with that troupe?" it was intelligible enough that he would not care to return to england. it was certain that he would not come back to her, unless she sent for him. and she knew from what captain willoughby had said that he expected no message from her. he had not left with willoughby the name of any place where a letter could reach him. but what was he doing at wadi halfa, masquerading with this itinerant troupe? he had money; so much willoughby had told her. "you spoke to him?" she asked suddenly. "to whom? oh, to harry?" returned durrance. "yes, afterwards, when i found out it was he who was playing the zither." "yes, how did you find out?" ethne asked. "the waltz came to an end. the old woman sank exhausted upon the bench against the whitewashed wall; the young man raised his head from his zither; the old man scraped a new chord upon his violin, and the girl stood forward to sing. her voice had youth and freshness, but no other quality of music. her singing was as inept as the rest of the entertainment. yet the old man smiled, the mother beat time with her heavy foot, and nodded at her husband with pride in their daughter's accomplishment. and again in the throng the ill-conditioned talk, the untranslatable jests of the arabs and the negroes went their round. it was horrible, don't you think?" "yes," answered ethne, but slowly, in an absent voice. as she had felt no sympathy for durrance when he began to speak, so she had none to spare for these three outcasts of fortune. she was too absorbed in the mystery of harry feversham's presence at wadi halfa. she was listening too closely for the message which he sent to her. through the open window the moon threw a broad panel of silver light upon the floor of the room close to her feet. she sat gazing into it as she listened, as though it was itself a window through which, if she looked but hard enough, she might see, very small and far away, that lighted café blazing upon the street of the little town of tewfikieh on the frontier of the soudan. "well?" she asked. "and after the song was ended?" "the young man with his back towards me," durrance resumed, "began to fumble out a solo upon the zither. he struck so many false notes, no tune was to be apprehended at the first. the laughter and noise grew amongst the crowd, and i was just turning away, rather sick at heart, when some notes, a succession of notes played correctly by chance, suddenly arrested me. i listened again, and a sort of haunting melody began to emerge--a weak thin thing with no soul in it, a ghost of a melody, and yet familiar. i stood listening in the street of sand, between the hovels fringed by a row of stunted trees, and i was carried away out of the east to ramelton and to a summer night beneath a melting sky of donegal, when you sat by the open window as you sit now and played the musoline overture, which you have played again to-night." "it was a melody from this overture?" she exclaimed. "yes, and it was harry feversham who played the melody. i did not guess it at once. i was not very quick in those days." "but you are now," said ethne. "quicker, at all events. i should have guessed it now. then, however, i was only curious. i wondered how it was that an itinerant greek came to pick up the tune. at all events, i determined to reward him for his diligence. i thought that you would like me to." "yes," said ethne, in a whisper. "so, when he came out from the café, and with his hat in his hand passed through the jeering crowd, i threw a sovereign into the hat. he turned to me with a start of surprise. in spite of his beard i knew him. besides, before he could check himself, he cried out 'jack!'" "you can have made no mistake, then," said ethne, in a wondering voice. "no, the man who strummed upon the zither was--" the christian name was upon her lips, but she had the wit to catch it back unuttered--"was mr. feversham. but he knew no music i remember very well." she laughed with a momentary recollection of feversham's utter inability to appreciate any music except that which she herself evoked from her violin. "he had no ear. you couldn't invent a discord harsh enough even to attract his attention. he could never have remembered any melody from the musoline overture." "yet it was harry feversham," he answered. "somehow he had remembered. i can understand it. he would have so little he cared to remember, and that little he would have striven with all his might to bring clearly back to mind. somehow, too, by much practice, i suppose, he had managed to elicit from his zither some sort of resemblance to what he remembered. can't you imagine him working the scrap of music out in his brain, humming it over, whistling it uncounted times with perpetual errors and confusions, until some fine day he got it safe and sure and fixed it in his thoughts? i can. can't you imagine him, then, picking it out sedulously and laboriously on the strings? i can. indeed, i can." thus ethne got her answer, and durrance interpreted it to her understanding. she sat silent and very deeply moved by the story he had told to her. it was fitting that this overture, her favourite piece of music, should convey the message that he had not forgotten her, that in spite of the fourth white feather he thought of her with friendship. harry feversham had not striven so laboriously to learn that melody in vain. ethne was stirred as she had thought nothing would ever again have the power to stir her. she wondered whether harry, as he sat in the little bare whitewashed café, and strummed out his music to the negroes and greeks and arabs gathered about the window, had dreamed, as she had done to-night, that somehow, thin and feeble as it was, some echo of the melody might reach across the world. she knew now for very certain that, however much she might in the future pretend to forget harry feversham, it would never be more than a pretence. the vision of the lighted café in the desert town would never be very far from her thoughts, but she had no intention of relaxing on that account from her determination to pretend to forget. the mere knowledge that she had at one time been unjustly harsh to harry, made her yet more resolved that durrance should not suffer for any fault of hers. "i told you last year, ethne, at hill street," durrance resumed, "that i never wished to see feversham again. i was wrong. the reluctance was all on his side and not at all on mine. for the moment that he realised he had called out my name he tried to edge backward from me into the crowd, he began to gabble greek, but i caught him by the arm, and i would not let him go. he had done you some great wrong. that i know; that i knew. but i could not remember it then. i only remembered that years before harry feversham had been my friend, my one great friend; that we had rowed in the same college boat at oxford, he at stroke, i at seven; that the stripes on his jersey during three successive eights had made my eyes dizzy during those last hundred yards of spurt past the barges. we had bathed together in sandford lasher on summer afternoons. we had had supper on kennington island; we had cut lectures and paddled up the cher to islip. and here he was at wadi halfa, herding with that troupe, an outcast, sunk to such a depth of ill-fortune that he must come to that squalid little town and play the zither vilely before a crowd of natives and a few greek clerks for his night's lodging and the price of a meal." "no," ethne interrupted suddenly. "it was not for that reason that he went to wadi halfa." "why, then?" asked durrance. "i cannot think. but he was not in any need of money. his father had continued his allowance, and he had accepted it." "you are sure?" "quite sure. i heard it only to-day," said ethne. it was a slip, but ethne for once was off her guard that night. she did not even notice that she had made a slip. she was too engrossed in durrance's story. durrance himself, however, was not less preoccupied, and so the statement passed for the moment unobserved by either. "so you never knew what brought mr. feversham to halfa?" she asked. "did you not ask him? why didn't you? why?" she was disappointed, and the bitterness of her disappointment gave passion to her cry. here was the last news of harry feversham, and it was brought to her incomplete, like the half sheet of a letter. the omission might never be repaired. "i was a fool," said durrance. there was almost as much regret in his voice now as there had been in hers; and because of that regret he did not remark the passion with which she had spoken. "i shall not easily forgive myself. he was my friend, you see. i had him by the arm, and i let him go. i was a fool." and he knocked upon his forehead with his fist. "he tried arabic," durrance resumed, "pleading that he and his companions were just poor peaceable people, that if i had given him too much money, i should take it back, and all the while he dragged away from me. but i held him fast. i said, 'harry feversham, that won't do,' and upon that he gave in and spoke in english, whispering it. 'let me go, jack, let me go.' there was the crowd about us. it was evident that harry had some reason for secrecy; it might have been shame, for all i knew, shame at his downfall. i said, 'come up to my quarters in halfa as soon as you are free,' and i let him go. all that night i waited for him on the verandah, but he did not come. in the morning i had to start across the desert. i almost spoke of him to a friend who came to see me start, to calder, in fact--you know of him--the man who sent you the telegram," said durrance, with a laugh. "yes, i remember," ethne answered. it was the second slip she had made that night. the receipt of calder's telegram was just one of the things which durrance was not to know. but again she was unaware that she had made a slip at all. she did not even consider how durrance had come to know or guess that the telegram had ever been despatched. "at the very last moment," durrance resumed, "when my camel had risen from the ground, i stooped down to speak to him, to tell him to see to feversham. but i did not. you see i knew nothing about his allowance. i merely thought that he had fallen rather low. it did not seem fair to him that another should know of it. so i rode on and kept silence." ethne nodded her head. she could not but approve, however poignant her regret for the lost news. "so you never saw mr. feversham again?" "i was away nine weeks. i came back blind," he answered simply, and the very simplicity of his words went to ethne's heart. he was apologising for his blindness, which had hindered him from inquiring. she began to wake to the comprehension that it was really durrance who was speaking to her, but he continued to speak, and what he said drove her quite out of all caution. "i went at once to cairo, and calder came with me. there i told him of harry feversham, and how i had seen him at tewfikieh. i asked calder when he got back to halfa to make inquiries, to find and help harry feversham if he could; i asked him, too, to let me know the result. i received a letter from calder a week ago, and i am troubled by it, very much troubled." "what did he say?" ethne asked apprehensively, and she turned in her chair away from the moonlight towards the shadows of the room and durrance. she bent forward to see his face, but the darkness hid it. a sudden fear struck through her and chilled her blood, but out of the darkness durrance spoke. "that the two women and the old greek had gone back northward on a steamer to assouan." "mr. feversham remained at wadi halfa, then? that is so, isn't it?" she said eagerly. "no," durrance replied. "harry feversham did not remain. he slipped past halfa the day after i started toward the east. he went out in the morning, and to the south." "into the desert?" "yes, but the desert to the south, the enemy's country. he went just as i saw him, carrying his zither. he was seen. there can be no doubt." ethne was quite silent for a little while. then she asked:-- "you have that letter with you?" "yes." "i should like to read it." she rose from her chair and walked across to durrance. he took the letter from his pocket and gave it to her, and she carried it over to the window. the moonlight was strong. ethne stood close by the window, with a hand pressed upon her heart, and read it through once and again. the letter was explicit; the greek who owned the café at which the troupe had performed admitted that joseppi, under which name he knew feversham, had wandered south, carrying a water-skin and a store of dates, though why, he either did not know or would not tell. ethne had a question to ask, but it was some time before she could trust her lips to utter it distinctly and without faltering. "what will happen to him?" "at the best, capture; at the worst, death. death by starvation, or thirst, or at the hands of the dervishes. but there is just a hope it might be only capture and imprisonment. you see he was white. if caught, his captors might think him a spy; they would be sure he had knowledge of our plans and our strength. i think that they would most likely send him to omdurman. i have written to calder. spies go out and in from wadi halfa. we often hear of things which happen in omdurman. if feversham is taken there, sooner or later i shall know. but he must have gone mad. it is the only explanation." ethne had another, and she knew hers to be the right one. she was off her guard, and she spoke it aloud to durrance. "colonel trench," said she, "is a prisoner at omdurman." "oh, yes," answered durrance. "feversham will not be quite alone. there is some comfort in that, and perhaps something may be done. when i hear from calder i will tell you. perhaps something may be done." it was evident that durrance had misconstrued her remark. he at all events was still in the dark as to the motive which had taken feversham southward beyond the egyptian patrols. and he must remain in the dark. for ethne did not even now slacken in her determination still to pretend to have forgotten. she stood at the window with the letter clenched in her hand. she must utter no cry, she must not swoon; she must keep very still and quiet, and speak when needed with a quiet voice, even though she knew that harry feversham had gone southward to join colonel trench at omdurman. but so much was beyond her strength. for as colonel durrance began to speak again, the desire to escape, to be alone with this terrible news, became irresistible. the cool quietude of the garden, the dark shadows of the trees, called to her. "perhaps you will wonder," said durrance, "why i have told you to-night what i have up till now kept to myself. i did not dare to tell it you before. i want to explain why." ethne did not notice the exultation in his voice; she did not consider what his explanation might be; she only felt that she could not now endure to listen to it. the mere sound of a human voice had become an unendurable thing. she hardly knew indeed that durrance was speaking, she was only aware that a voice spoke, and that the voice must stop. she was close by the window; a single silent step, and she was across the sill and free. durrance continued to speak out of the darkness, engrossed in what he said, and ethne did not listen to a word. she gathered her skirts carefully, so that they should not rustle, and stepped from the window. this was the third slip which she made upon that eventful night. chapter xix mrs. adair interferes ethne had thought to escape quite unobserved; but mrs. adair was sitting upon the terrace in the shadow of the house and not very far from the open window of the drawing-room. she saw ethne lightly cross the terrace and run down the steps into the garden, and she wondered at the precipitancy of her movements. ethne seemed to be taking flight, and in a sort of desperation. the incident was singular, and remarkably singular to mrs. adair, who from the angle in which she sat commanded a view of that open window through which the moonlight shone. she had seen ethne turn out the lamp, and the swift change in the room from light to dark, with its suggestion of secrecy and the private talk of lovers, had been a torture to her. but she had not fled from the torture. she had sat listening, and the music as it floated out upon the garden with its thrill of happiness, its accent of yearning, and the low, hushed conversation which followed upon its cessation in that darkened room, had struck upon a chord of imagination in mrs. adair and had kindled her jealousy into a scorching flame. then suddenly ethne had taken flight. the possibility of a quarrel mrs. adair dismissed from her thoughts. she knew very well that ethne was not of the kind which quarrels, nor would she escape by running away, should she be entangled in a quarrel. but something still more singular occurred. durrance continued to speak in that room from which ethne had escaped. the sound of his voice reached mrs. adair's ears, though she could not distinguish the words. it was clear to her that he believed ethne to be still with him. mrs. adair rose from her seat and, walking silently upon the tips of her toes, came close to the open window. she heard durrance laugh light-heartedly, and she listened to the words he spoke. she could hear them plainly now, though she could not see the man who spoke them. he sat in the shadows. "i began to find out," he was saying, "even on that first afternoon at hill street two months ago, that there was only friendship on your side. my blindness helped me. with your face and your eyes in view i should have believed without question just what you wished me to believe. but you had no longer those defences. i on my side had grown quicker. i began in a word to see. for the first time in my life i began to see." mrs. adair did not move. durrance, upon his side, appeared to expect no answer or acknowledgment. he spoke with the voice of enjoyment which a man uses recounting difficulties which have ceased to hamper him, perplexities which have been long since unravelled. "i should have definitely broken off our engagement, i suppose, at once. for i still believed, and as firmly as ever, that there must be more than friendship on both sides. but i had grown selfish. i warned you, ethne, selfishness was the blind man's particular fault. i waited and deferred the time of marriage. i made excuses. i led you to believe that there was a chance of recovery when i knew there was none. for i hoped, as a man will, that with time your friendship might grow into more than friendship. so long as there was a chance of that, i--ethne, i could not let you go. so, i listened for some new softness in your voice, some new buoyancy in your laughter, some new deep thrill of the heart in the music which you played, longing for it--how much! well, to-night i have burnt my boats. i have admitted to you that i knew friendship limited your thoughts of me. i have owned to you that there is no hope my sight will be restored. i have even dared to-night to tell you what i have kept secret for so long, my meeting with harry feversham and the peril he has run. and why? because for the first time i have heard to-night just those signs for which i waited. the new softness, the new pride, in your voice, the buoyancy in your laughter--they have been audible to me all this evening. the restraint and the tension were gone from your manner. and when you played, it was as though some one with just your skill and knowledge played, but some one who let her heart speak resonantly through the music as until to-night you have never done. ethne, ethne!" but at that moment ethne was in the little enclosed garden whither she had led captain willoughby that morning. here she was private; her collie dog had joined her; she had reached the solitude and the silence which had become necessities to her. a few more words from durrance and her prudence would have broken beneath the strain. all that pretence of affection which during these last months she had so sedulously built up about him like a wall which he was never to look over, would have been struck down and levelled to the ground. durrance, indeed, had already looked over the wall, was looking over it with amazed eyes at this instant, but that ethne did not know, and to hinder him from knowing it she had fled. the moonlight slept in silver upon the creek; the tall trees stood dreaming to the stars; the lapping of the tide against the bank was no louder than the music of a river. she sat down upon the bench and strove to gather some of the quietude of that summer night into her heart, and to learn from the growing things of nature about her something of their patience and their extraordinary perseverance. but the occurrences of the day had overtaxed her, and she could not. only this morning, and in this very garden, the good news had come and she had regained harry feversham. for in that way she thought of willoughby's message. this morning she had regained him, and this evening the bad news had come and she had lost him, and most likely right to the very end of mortal life. harry feversham meant to pay for his fault to the uttermost scruple, and ethne cried out against his thoroughness, which he had learned from no other than herself. "surely," she thought, "he might have been content. in redeeming his honour in the eyes of one of the three he has done enough, he has redeemed it in the eyes of all." but he had gone south to join colonel trench in omdurman. of that squalid and shadowless town, of its hideous barbarities, of the horrors of its prison-house, ethne knew nothing at all. but captain willoughby had hinted enough to fill her imagination with terrors. he had offered to explain to her what captivity in omdurman implied, and she wrung her hands, as she remembered that she had refused to listen. what cruelties might not be practised? even now, at that very hour perhaps, on this night of summer--but she dared not let her thoughts wander that way.... the lapping of the tide against the banks was like the music of a river. it brought to ethne's mind one particular river which had sung and babbled in her ears when five years ago she had watched out another summer night till dawn. never had she so hungered for her own country and the companionship of its brown hills and streams. no, not even this afternoon, when she had sat at her window and watched the lights change upon the creek. donegal had a sanctity for her, it seemed when she dwelled in it to set her in a way apart from and above earthly taints; and as her heart went out in a great longing towards it now, a sudden fierce loathing for the concealments, the shifts and maneuvers which she had practised, and still must practise, sprang up within her. a great weariness came upon her, too. but she did not change from her fixed resolve. two lives were not to be spoilt because she lived in the world. to-morrow she could gather up her strength and begin again. for durrance must never know that there was another whom she placed before him in her thoughts. meanwhile, however, durrance within the drawing-room brought his confession to an end. "so you see," he said, "i could not speak of harry feversham until to-night. for i was afraid that what i had to tell you would hurt you very much. i was afraid that you still remembered him, in spite of those five years. i knew, of course, that you were my friend. but i doubted whether in your heart you were not more than that to him. to-night, however, i could tell you without fear." now at all events he expected an answer. mrs. adair, still standing by the window, heard him move in the shadows. "ethne!" he said, with some surprise in his voice; and since again no answer came, he rose, and walked towards the chair in which ethne had sat. mrs. adair could see him now. his hands felt for and grasped the back of the chair. he bent over it, as though he thought ethne was leaning forward with her hands upon her knees. "ethne," he said again, and there was in this iteration of her name more trouble and doubt than surprise. it seemed to mrs. adair that he dreaded to find her silently weeping. he was beginning to speculate whether after all he had been right in his inference from ethne's recapture of her youth to-night, whether the shadow of feversham did not after all fall between them. he leaned farther forward, feeling with his hand, and suddenly a string of ethne's violin twanged loud. she had left it lying on the chair, and his fingers had touched it. durrance drew himself up straight and stood quite motionless and silent, like a man who had suffered a shock and is bewildered. he passed his hand across his forehead once or twice, and then, without calling upon ethne again, he advanced to the open window. mrs. adair did not move, and she held her breath. there was just the width of the sill between them. the moonlight struck full upon durrance, and she saw a comprehension gradually dawn in his face that some one was standing close to him. "ethne," he said a third time, and now he appealed. he stretched out a hand timidly and touched her dress. "it is not ethne," he said with a start. "no, it is not ethne," mrs. adair answered quickly. durrance drew back a step from the window, and for a little while was silent. "where has she gone?" he asked at length. "into the garden. she ran across the terrace and down the steps very quickly and silently. i saw her from my chair. then i heard you speaking alone." "can you see her now in the garden?" "no; she went across the lawn towards the trees and their great shadows. there is only the moonlight in the garden now." durrance stepped across the window sill and stood by the side of mrs. adair. the last slip which ethne had made betrayed her inevitably to the man who had grown quick. there could be only one reason for her sudden unexplained and secret flight. he had told her that feversham had wandered south from wadi halfa into the savage country; he had spoken out his fears as to feversham's fate without reserve, thinking that she had forgotten him, and indeed rather inclined to blame her for the callous indifference with which she received the news. the callousness was a mere mask, and she had fled because she no longer had the strength to hold it up before her face. his first suspicions had been right. feversham still stood between ethne and himself and held them at arm's length. "she ran as though she was in great trouble and hardly knew what she was doing," mrs. adair continued. "did you cause that trouble?" "yes." "i thought so, from what i heard you say." mrs. adair wanted to hurt, and in spite of durrance's impenetrable face, she felt that she had succeeded. it was a small sort of compensation for the weeks of mortification which she had endured. there is something which might be said for mrs. adair; extenuations might be pleaded, even if no defence was made. for she like ethne was overtaxed that night. that calm pale face of hers hid the quick passions of the south, and she had been racked by them to the limits of endurance. there had been something grotesque, something rather horrible, in that outbreak and confession by durrance, after ethne had fled from the room. he was speaking out his heart to an empty chair. she herself had stood without the window with a bitter longing that he had spoken so to her and a bitter knowledge that he never would. she was sunk deep in humiliation. the irony of the position tortured her; it was like a jest of grim selfish gods played off upon ineffectual mortals to their hurt. and at the bottom of all the thoughts rankled that memory of the extinguished lamp, and the low, hushed voices speaking one to the other in darkness. therefore she spoke to give pain and was glad that she gave it, even though it was to the man whom she coveted. "there's one thing which i don't understand," said durrance. "i mean the change which we both noticed in ethne to-night. i mistook the cause of it, that's evident. i was a fool. but there must have been a cause. the gift of laughter had been restored to her. her gravity, her air of calculation, had vanished. she became just what she was five years ago." "exactly," mrs. adair answered. "just what she was before mr. feversham disappeared from ramelton. you are so quick, colonel durrance. ethne had good news of mr. feversham this morning." durrance turned quickly towards her, and mrs. adair felt a pleasure at his abrupt movement. she had provoked the display of some emotion, and the display of emotion was preferable to his composure. "are you quite sure?" he asked. "as sure as that you gave her the worst of news to-night," she replied. but durrance did not need the answer. ethne had made another slip that evening, and though unnoticed at the time, it came back to durrance's memory now. she had declared that feversham still drew an allowance from his father. "i heard it only to-day," she had said. "yes, ethne heard news of feversham to-day," he said slowly. "did she make a mistake five years ago? there was some wrong thing harry feversham was supposed to have done. but was there really more misunderstanding than wrong? did she misjudge him? has she to-day learnt that she misjudged him?" "i will tell you what i know. it is not very much. but i think it is fair that you should know it." "wait a moment, please, mrs. adair," said durrance, sharply. he had put his questions rather to himself than to his companion, and he was not sure that he wished her to answer them. he walked abruptly away from her and leaned upon the balustrade with his face towards the garden. it seemed to him rather treacherous to allow mrs. adair to disclose what ethne herself evidently intended to conceal. but he knew why ethne wished to conceal it. she wished him never to suspect that she retained any love for harry feversham. on the other hand, however, he did not falter from his own belief. marriage between a man crippled like himself and a woman active and vigorous like ethne could never be right unless both brought more than friendship. he turned back to mrs. adair. "i am no casuist," he said. "but here disloyalty seems the truest loyalty of all. tell me what you know, mrs. adair. something might be done perhaps for feversham. from assouan or suakin something might be done. this news--this good news came, i suppose, this afternoon when i was at home." "no, this morning when you were here. it was brought by a captain willoughby, who was once an officer in mr. feversham's regiment." "he is now deputy-governor of suakin," said durrance. "i know the man. for three years we were together in that town. well?" "he sailed down from kingsbridge. you and ethne were walking across the lawn when he landed from the creek. ethne left you and went forward to meet him. i saw them meet, because i happened to be looking out of this window at the moment." "yes, ethne went forward. there was a stranger whom she did not know. i remember." "they spoke for a few moments, and then ethne led him towards the trees, at once, without looking back--as though she had forgotten," said mrs. adair. that little stab she had not been able to deny herself, but it evoked no sign of pain. "as though she had forgotten me, you mean," said durrance, quietly completing her sentence. "no doubt she had." "they went together into the little enclosed garden on the bank," and durrance started as she spoke. "yes, you followed them," continued mrs. adair, curiously. she had been puzzled as to how durrance had missed them. "they were there then," he said slowly, "on that seat, in the enclosure, all the while." mrs. adair waited for a more definite explanation of the mystery, but she got none. "well?" he asked. "they stayed there for a long while. you had gone home across the fields before they came outside into the open. i was in the garden, and indeed happened to be actually upon the bank." "so you saw captain willoughby. perhaps you spoke to him?" "yes. ethne introduced him, but she would not let him stay. she hurried him into his boat and back to kingsbridge at once." "then how do you know captain willoughby brought good news of harry feversham?" "ethne told me that they had been talking of him. her manner and her laugh showed me no less clearly that the news was good." "yes," said durrance, and he nodded his head in assent. captain willoughby's tidings had begotten that new pride and buoyancy in ethne which he had so readily taken to himself. signs of the necessary something more than friendship--so he had accounted them, and he was right so far. but it was not he who had inspired them. his very penetration and insight had led him astray. he was silent for a few minutes, and mrs. adair searched his face in the moonlight for some evidence that he resented ethne's secrecy. but she searched in vain. "and that is all?" said durrance. "not quite. captain willoughby brought a token from mr. feversham. ethne carried it back to the house in her hand. her eyes were upon it all the way, her lips smiled at it. i do not think there is anything half so precious to her in all the world." "a token?" "a little white feather," said mrs. adair, "all soiled and speckled with dust. can you read the riddle of that feather?" "not yet," durrance replied. he walked once or twice along the terrace and back, lost in thought. then he went into the house and fetched his cap from the hall. he came back to mrs. adair. "it was kind of you to tell me this," he said. "i want you to add to your kindness. when i was in the drawing-room alone and you came to the window, how much did you hear? what were the first words?" mrs. adair's answer relieved him of a fear. ethne had heard nothing whatever of his confession. "yes," he said, "she moved to the window to read a letter by the moonlight. she must have escaped from the room the moment she had read it. consequently she did not hear that i had no longer any hope of recovering my sight, and that i merely used the pretence of a hope in order to delay our marriage. i am glad of that, very glad." he shook hands with mrs. adair, and said good-night. "you see," he added absently, "if i hear that harry feversham is in omdurman, something might perhaps be done--from suakin or assouan, something might be done. which way did ethne go?" "over to the water." "she had her dog with her, i hope." "the dog followed her," said mrs. adair. "i am glad," said durrance. he knew quite well what comfort the dog would be to ethne in this bad hour, and perhaps he rather envied the dog. mrs. adair wondered that at a moment of such distress to him he could still spare a thought for so small an alleviation of ethne's trouble. she watched him cross the garden to the stile in the hedge. he walked steadily forward upon the path like a man who sees. there was nothing in his gait or bearing to reveal that the one thing left to him had that evening been taken away. chapter xx west and east durrance found his body-servant waiting up for him when he had come across the fields to his own house of "guessens." "you can turn the lights out and go to bed," said durrance, and he walked through the hall into his study. the name hardly described the room, for it had always been more of a gun-room than a study. he sat for some while in his chair and then began to walk gently about the room in the dark. there were many cups and goblets scattered about the room, which durrance had won in his past days. he knew them each one by their shape and position, and he drew a kind of comfort from the feel of them. he took them up one by one and touched them and fondled them, wondering whether, now that he was blind, they were kept as clean and bright as they used to be. this one, a thin-stemmed goblet, he had won in a regimental steeple-chase at colchester; he could remember the day with its clouds and grey sky and the dull look of the ploughed fields between the hedges. that pewter, which stood upon his writing table and which had formed a convenient holder for his pens, when pens had been of use, he had acquired very long ago in his college "fours," when he was a freshman at oxford. the hoof of a favourite horse mounted in silver made an ornament upon the mantelpiece. his trophies made the room a gigantic diary; he fingered his records of good days gone by and came at last to his guns and rifles. he took them down from their racks. they were to him much what ethne's violin was to her and had stories for his ear alone. he sat with a remington across his knee and lived over again one long hot day in the hills to the west of berenice, during which he had stalked a lion across stony, open country, and killed him at three hundred yards just before sunset. another talked to him, too, of his first ibex shot in the khor baraka, and of antelope stalked in the mountains northward of suakin. there was a little greener gun which he had used upon midwinter nights in a boat upon this very creek of the salcombe estuary. he had brought down his first mallard with that, and he lifted it and slid his left hand along the under side of the barrel and felt the butt settle comfortably into the hollow of his shoulder. but his weapons began to talk over loudly in his ears, even as ethne's violin, in the earlier days after harry feversham was gone and she was left alone, had spoken with too penetrating a note to her. as he handled the locks, and was aware that he could no longer see the sights, the sum of his losses was presented to him in a very definite and incontestable way. he put his guns away, and was seized suddenly with a desire to disregard his blindness, to pretend that it was no hindrance and to pretend so hard that it should prove not to be one. the desire grew and shook him like a passion and carried him winged out of the countries of dim stars straight to the east. the smell of the east and its noises and the domes of its mosques, the hot sun, the rabble in its streets, and the steel-blue sky overhead, caught at him till he was plucked from his chair and set pacing restlessly about his room. he dreamed himself to port said, and was marshalled in the long procession of steamers down the waterway of the canal. the song of the arabs coaling the ship was in his ears, and so loud that he could see them as they went at night-time up and down the planks between the barges and the deck, an endless chain of naked figures monotonously chanting and lurid in the red glare of the braziers. he travelled out of the canal, past the red headlands of the sinaitic peninsula, into the chills of the gulf of suez. he zigzagged down the red sea while the great bear swung northward low down in the sky above the rail of the quarterdeck, and the southern cross began to blaze in the south; he touched at tor and at yambo; he saw the tall white houses of yeddah lift themselves out of the sea, and admired the dark brine-withered woodwork of their carved casements; he walked through the dusk of its roofed bazaars with the joy of the homesick after long years come home; and from yeddah he crossed between the narrowing coral-reefs into the land-locked harbour of suakin. westward from suakin stretched the desert, with all that it meant to this man whom it had smitten and cast out--the quiet padding of the camels' feet in sand; the great rock-cones rising sheer and abrupt as from a rippleless ocean, towards which you march all day and get no nearer; the gorgeous momentary blaze of sunset colours in the west; the rustle of the wind through the short twilight when the west is a pure pale green and the east the darkest blue; and the downward swoop of the planets out of nothing to the earth. the inheritor of the other places dreamed himself back into his inheritance as he tramped to and fro, forgetful of his blindness and parched with desire as with a fever--until unexpectedly he heard the blackbirds and the swallows bustling and piping in the garden, and knew that outside his windows the world was white with dawn. he waked from his dream at the homely sound. there were to be no more journeys for him; affliction had caged him and soldered a chain about his leg. he felt his way by the balustrade up the stairs to his bed. he fell asleep as the sun rose. * * * * * but at dongola, on the great curve of the nile southwards of wadi halfa, the sun was already blazing and its inhabitants were awake. there was sport prepared for them this morning under the few palm trees before the house of the emir wad el nejoumi. a white prisoner captured a week before close to the wells of el agia on the great arbain road, by a party of arabs, had been brought in during the night and now waited his fate at the emir's hands. the news spread quick as a spark through the town; already crowds of men and women and children flocked to this rare and pleasant spectacle. in front of the palm trees an open space stretched to the gateway of the emir's house; behind them a slope of sand descended flat and bare to the river. harry feversham was standing under the trees, guarded by four of the ansar soldiery. his clothes had been stripped from him; he wore only a torn and ragged jibbeh upon his body and a twist of cotton on his head to shield him from the sun. his bare shoulders and arms were scorched and blistered. his ankles were fettered, his wrists were bound with a rope of palm fibre, an iron collar was locked about his neck, to which a chain was attached, and this chain one of the soldiers held. he stood and smiled at the mocking crowd about him and seemed well pleased, like a lunatic. that was the character which he had assumed. if he could sustain it, if he could baffle his captors, so that they were at a loss whether he was a man really daft or an agent with promises of help and arms to the disaffected tribes of kordofan--then there was a chance that they might fear to dispose of him themselves and send him forward to omdurman. but it was hard work. inside the house the emir and his counsellors were debating his destiny; on the river-bank and within his view a high gallows stood out black and most sinister against the yellow sand. harry feversham was very glad of the chain about his neck and the fetters on his legs. they helped him to betray no panic, by assuring him of its futility. these hours of waiting, while the sun rose higher and higher and no one came from the gateway, were the worst he had ever as yet endured. all through that fortnight in berber a hope of escape had sustained him, and when that lantern shone upon him from behind in the ruined acres, what had to be done must be done so quickly there was no time for fear or thought. here there was time and too much of it. he had time to anticipate and foresee. he felt his heart sinking till he was faint, just as in those distant days when he had heard the hounds scuffling and whining in a covert and he himself had sat shaking upon his horse. he glanced furtively towards the gallows, and foresaw the vultures perched upon his shoulders, fluttering about his eyes. but the man had grown during his years of probation. the fear of physical suffering was not uppermost in his mind, nor even the fear that he would walk unmanfully to the high gallows, but a greater dread that if he died now, here, at dongola, ethne would never take back that fourth feather, and his strong hope of the "afterwards" would never come to its fulfilment. he was very glad of the collar about his neck and the fetters on his legs. he summoned his wits together and standing there alone, without a companion to share his miseries, laughed and scraped and grimaced at his tormentors. an old hag danced and gesticulated before him, singing the while a monotonous song. the gestures were pantomimic and menaced him with abominable mutilations; the words described in simple and unexpurgated language the grievous death agonies which immediately awaited him, and the eternity of torture in hell which he would subsequently suffer. feversham understood and inwardly shuddered, but he only imitated her gestures and nodded and mowed at her as though she was singing to him of paradise. others, taking their war-trumpets, placed the mouths against the prisoner's ears and blew with all their might. "do you hear, kaffir?" cried a child, dancing with delight before him. "do you hear our ombeyehs? blow louder! blow louder!" but the prisoner only clapped his hands, and cried out that the music was good. finally there came to the group a tall warrior with a long, heavy spear. a cry was raised at his approach, and a space was cleared. he stood before the captive and poised his spear, swinging it backward and forward, to make his arm supple before he thrust, like a bowler before he delivers a ball at a cricket match. feversham glanced wildly about him, and seeing no escape, suddenly flung out his breast to meet the blow. but the spear never reached him. for as the warrior lunged from the shoulder, one of the four guards jerked the neck chain violently from behind, and the prisoner was flung, half throttled, upon his back. three times, and each time to a roar of delight, this pastime was repeated, and then a soldier appeared in the gateway of nejoumi's house. "bring him in!" he cried; and followed by the curses and threats of the crowd, the prisoner was dragged under the arch across a courtyard into a dark room. for a few moments feversham could see nothing. then his eyes began to adapt themselves to the gloom, and he distinguished a tall, bearded man, who sat upon an angareb, the native bedstead of the soudan, and two others, who squatted beside him on the ground. the man on the angareb was the emir. "you are a spy of the government from wadi halfa," he said. "no, i am a musician," returned the prisoner, and he laughed happily, like a man that has made a jest. nejoumi made a sign, and an instrument with many broken strings was handed to the captive. feversham seated himself upon the ground, and with slow, fumbling fingers, breathing hard as he bent over the zither, he began to elicit a wavering melody. it was the melody to which durrance had listened in the street of tewfikieh on the eve of his last journey into the desert; and which ethne eustace had played only the night before in the quiet drawing-room at southpool. it was the only melody which feversham knew. when he had done nejoumi began again. "you are a spy." "i have told you the truth," answered feversham, stubbornly, and nejoumi took a different tone. he called for food, and the raw liver of a camel, covered with salt and red pepper, was placed before feversham. seldom has a man had smaller inclination to eat, but feversham ate, none the less, even of that unattractive dish, knowing well that reluctance would be construed as fear, and that the signs of fear might condemn him to death. and, while he ate, nejoumi questioned him, in the silkiest voice, about the fortifications of cairo and the strength of the garrison at assouan, and the rumours of dissension between the khedive and the sirdar. but to each question feversham replied:-- "how should a greek know of these matters?" nejoumi rose from his angareb and roughly gave an order. the soldiers seized upon feversham and dragged him out again into the sunlight. they poured water upon the palm-rope which bound his wrists, so that the thongs swelled and bit into his flesh. "speak, kaffir. you carry promises to kordofan." feversham was silent. he clung doggedly to the plan over which he had so long and so carefully pondered. he could not improve upon it, he was sure, by any alteration suggested by fear, at a moment when he could not think clearly. a rope was flung about his neck, and he was pushed and driven beneath the gallows. "speak, kaffir," said nejoumi; "so shall you escape death." feversham smiled and grimaced, and shook his head loosely from side to side. it was astonishing to him that he could do it, that he did not fall down upon his knees and beg for mercy. it was still more astonishing to him that he felt no temptation so to demean himself. he wondered whether the oft repeated story was true, that criminals in english prisons went quietly and with dignity to the scaffold, because they had been drugged. for without drugs he seemed to be behaving with no less dignity himself. his heart was beating very fast, but it was with a sort of excitement. he did not even think of ethne at that moment; and certainly the great dread that his strong hope would never be fulfilled did not trouble him at all. he had his allotted part to play, and he just played it; and that was all. nejoumi looked at him sourly for a moment. he turned to the men who stood ready to draw away from feversham the angareb on which he was placed:-- "to-morrow," said he, "the kaffir shall go to omdurman." feversham began to feel then that the rope of palm fibre tortured his wrists. chapter xxi ethne makes another slip mrs. adair speculated with some uneasiness upon the consequences of the disclosures which she had made to durrance. she was in doubt as to the course which he would take. it seemed possible that he might frankly tell ethne of the mistake which he had made. he might admit that he had discovered the unreality of her affection for him, and the reality of her love for feversham; and if he made that admission, however carefully he tried to conceal her share in his discovery, he would hardly succeed. she would have to face ethne, and she dreaded the moment when her companion's frank eyes would rest quietly upon hers and her lips demand an explanation. it was consequently a relief to her at first that no outward change was visible in the relations of ethne and durrance. they met and spoke as though that day on which willoughby had landed at the garden, and the evening when ethne had played the musoline overture upon the violin, had been blotted from their experience. mrs. adair was relieved at first, but when the sense of personal danger passed from her, and she saw that her interference had been apparently without effect, she began to be puzzled. a little while, and she was both angry and disappointed. durrance, indeed, quickly made up his mind. ethne wished him not to know; it was some consolation to her in her distress to believe that she had brought happiness to this one man whose friend she genuinely was. and of that consolation durrance was aware. he saw no reason to destroy it--for the present. he must know certainly whether a misunderstanding or an irreparable breach separated ethne from feversham before he took the steps he had in mind. he must have sure knowledge, too, of harry feversham's fate. therefore he pretended to know nothing; he abandoned even his habit of attention and scrutiny, since for these there was no longer any need; he forced himself to a display of contentment; he made light of his misfortune, and professed to find in ethne's company more than its compensation. "you see," he said to her, "one can get used to blindness and take it as the natural thing. but one does not get used to you, ethne. each time one meets you, one discovers something new and fresh to delight one. besides, there is always the possibility of a cure." he had his reward, for ethne understood that he had laid aside his suspicions, and she was able to set off his indefatigable cheerfulness against her own misery. and her misery was great. if for one day she had recaptured the lightness of heart which had been hers before the three white feathers came to ramelton, she had now recaptured something of the grief which followed upon their coming. a difference there was, of course. her pride was restored, and she had a faint hope born of durrance's words that harry after all might perhaps be rescued. but she knew again the long and sleepless nights and the dull hot misery of the head as she waited for the grey of the morning. for she could no longer pretend to herself that she looked upon harry feversham as a friend who was dead. he was living, and in what straits she dreaded to think, and yet thirsted to know. at rare times, indeed, her impatience got the better of her will. "i suppose that escape is possible from omdurman," she said one day, constraining her voice to an accent of indifference. "possible? yes, i think so," durrance answered cheerfully. "of course it is difficult and would in any case take time. attempts, for instance, have been made to get trench out and others, but the attempts have not yet succeeded. the difficulty is the go-between." ethne looked quickly at durrance. "the go-between?" she asked, and then she said, "i think i begin to understand," and pulled herself up abruptly. "you mean the arab who can come and go between omdurman and the egyptian frontier?" "yes. he is usually some dervish pedlar or merchant trading with the tribes of the soudan, who slips into wadi halfa or assouan or suakin and undertakes the work. of course his risk is great. he would have short shrift in omdurman if his business were detected. so it is not to be wondered at that he shirks the danger at the last moment. as often as not, too, he is a rogue. you make your arrangements with him in egypt, and hand him over the necessary money. in six months or a year he comes back alone, with a story of excuses. it was summer, and the season unfavourable for an escape. or the prisoners were more strictly guarded. or he himself was suspected. and he needs more money. his tale may be true, and you give him more money; and he comes back again, and again he comes back alone." ethne nodded her head. "exactly." durrance had unconsciously explained to her a point which till now she had not understood. she was quite sure that harry feversham aimed in some way at bringing help to colonel trench, but in what way his own capture was to serve that aim she could not determine. now she understood: he was to be his own go-between, and her hopes drew strength from this piece of new knowledge. for it was likely that he had laid his plans with care. he would be very anxious that the second feather should come back to her, and if he could fetch trench safely out of omdurman, he would not himself remain behind. ethne was silent for a little while. they were sitting on the terrace, and the sunset was red upon the water of the creek. "life would not be easy, i suppose, in the prison of omdurman," she said, and again she forced herself to indifference. "easy!" exclaimed durrance; "no, it would not be easy. a hovel crowded with arabs, without light or air, and the roof perhaps two feet above your head, into which you were locked up from sundown to morning; very likely the prisoners would have to stand all night in that foul den, so closely packed would they be. imagine it, even here in england, on an evening like this! think what it would be on an august night in the soudan! especially if you had memories, say, of a place like this, to make the torture worse." ethne looked out across that cool garden. at this very moment harry feversham might be struggling for breath in that dark and noisome hovel, dry of throat and fevered with the heat, with a vision before his eyes of the grass slopes of ramelton and with the music of the lennon river liquid in his ears. "one would pray for death," said ethne, slowly, "unless--" she was on the point of adding "unless one went there deliberately with a fixed thing to do," but she cut the sentence short. durrance carried it on:-- "unless there was a chance of escape," he said. "and there is a chance--if feversham is in omdurman." he was afraid that he had allowed himself to say too much about the horrors of the prison in omdurman, and he added: "of course, what i have described to you is mere hearsay and not to be trusted. we have no knowledge. prisoners may not have such bad times as we think;" and thereupon he let the subject drop. nor did ethne mention it again. it occurred to her at times to wonder in what way durrance had understood her abrupt disappearance from the drawing-room on the night when he had told her of his meeting with harry feversham. but he never referred to it himself, and she thought it wise to imitate his example. the noticeable change in his manner, the absence of that caution which had so distressed her, allayed her fears. it seemed that he had found for himself some perfectly simple and natural explanation. at times, too, she asked herself why durrance had told her of that meeting in wadi halfa, and of feversham's subsequent departure to the south. but for that she found an explanation--a strange explanation, perhaps, but it was simple enough and satisfactory to her. she believed that the news was a message of which durrance was only the instrument. it was meant for her ears, and for her comprehension alone, and durrance was bound to convey it to her by the will of a power above him. his real reason she had not stayed to hear. during the month of september, then, they kept up the pretence. every morning when durrance was in devonshire he would come across the fields to ethne at the pool, and mrs. adair, watching them as they talked and laughed without a shadow of embarrassment or estrangement, grew more angry, and found it more difficult to hold her peace and let the pretence go on. it was a month of strain and tension to all three, and not one of them but experienced a great relief when durrance visited his oculist in london. and those visits increased in number, and lengthened in duration. even ethne was grateful for them. she could throw off the mask for a little while; she had an opportunity to be tired; she had solitude wherein to gain strength to resume her high spirits upon durrance's return. there came hours when despair seized hold of her. "shall i be able to keep up the pretence when we are married, when we are always together?" she asked herself. but she thrust the question back unanswered; she dared not look forward, lest even now her strength should fail her. after the third visit durrance said to her:-- "do you remember that i once mentioned a famous oculist at wiesbaden? it seems advisable that i should go to him." "you are recommended to go?" "yes, and to go alone." ethne looked up at him with a shrewd, quick glance. "you think that i should be dull at wiesbaden," she said. "there is no fear of that. i can rout out some relative to go with me." "no; it is on my own account," answered durrance. "i shall perhaps have to go into a home. it is better to be quite quiet and to see no one for a time." "you are sure?" ethne asked. "it would hurt me if i thought you proposed this plan because you felt i would be happier at glenalla." "no, that is not the reason," durrance answered, and he answered quite truthfully. he felt it necessary for both of them that they should separate. he, no less than ethne, suffered under the tyranny of perpetual simulation. it was only because he knew how much store she set upon carrying out her resolve that two lives should not be spoilt because of her, that he was able to hinder himself from crying out that he knew the truth. "i am returning to london next week," he added, "and when i come back i shall be in a position to tell you whether i am to go to wiesbaden or not." durrance had reason to be glad that he had mentioned his plan before the arrival of calder's telegram from wadi halfa. ethne was unable to connect his departure from her with the receipt of any news about feversham. the telegram came one afternoon, and durrance took it across to the pool in the evening and showed it to ethne. there were only four words to the telegram:-- "feversham imprisoned at omdurman." durrance, with one of the new instincts of delicacy which had been born in him lately by reason of his sufferings and the habit of thought, had moved away from ethne's side as soon as he had given it to her, and had joined mrs. adair, who was reading a book in the drawing-room. he had folded up the telegram, besides, so that by the time ethne had unfolded it and saw the words, she was alone upon the terrace. she remembered what durrance had said to her about the prison, and her imagination enlarged upon his words. the quiet of a september evening was upon the fields, a light mist rose from the creek and crept over the garden bank across the lawn. already the prison doors were shut in that hot country at the junction of the niles. "he is to pay for his fault ten times over, then," she cried, in revolt against the disproportion. "and the fault was his father's and mine too more than his own. for neither of us understood." she blamed herself for the gift of that fourth feather. she leaned upon the stone balustrade with her eyes shut, wondering whether harry would outlive this night, whether he was still alive to outlive it. the very coolness of the stones on which her hands pressed became the bitterest of reproaches. "something can now be done." durrance was coming from the window of the drawing-room, and spoke as he came, to warn her of his approach. "he was and is my friend; i cannot leave him there. i shall write to-night to calder. money will not be spared. he is my friend, ethne. you will see. from suakin or from assouan something will be done." he put all the help to be offered to the credit of his own friendship. ethne was not to believe that he imagined she had any further interest in harry feversham. she turned to him suddenly, almost interrupting him. "major castleton is dead?" she said. "castleton?" he exclaimed. "there was a castleton in feversham's regiment. is that the man?" "yes. he is dead?" "he was killed at tamai." "you are sure--quite sure?" "he was within the square of the second brigade on the edge of the great gulley when osman digna's men sprang out of the earth and broke through. i was in that square, too. i saw castleton killed." "i am glad," said ethne. she spoke quite simply and distinctly. the first feather had been brought back by captain willoughby. it was just possible that colonel trench might bring back the second. harry feversham had succeeded once under great difficulties, in the face of great peril. the peril was greater now, the difficulties more arduous to overcome; that she clearly understood. but she took the one success as an augury that another might follow it. feversham would have laid his plans with care; he had money wherewith to carry them out; and, besides, she was a woman of strong faith. but she was relieved to know that the sender of the third feather could never be approached. moreover, she hated him, and there was an end of the matter. durrance was startled. he was a soldier of a type not so rare as the makers of war stories wish their readers to believe. hector of troy was his ancestor; he was neither hysterical in his language nor vindictive in his acts; he was not an elderly schoolboy with a taste for loud talk, but a quiet man who did his work without noise, who could be stern when occasion needed and of an unflinching severity, but whose nature was gentle and compassionate. and this barbaric utterance of ethne eustace he did not understand. "you disliked major castleton so much?" he exclaimed. "i never knew him." "yet you are glad that he is dead?" "i am quite glad," said ethne, stubbornly. she made another slip when she spoke thus of major castleton, and durrance did not pass it by unnoticed. he remembered it, and thought it over in his gun-room at guessens. it added something to the explanation which he was building up of harry feversham's disgrace and disappearance. the story was gradually becoming clear to his sharpened wits. captain willoughby's visit and the token he had brought had given him the clue. a white feather could mean nothing but an accusation of cowardice. durrance could not remember that he had ever detected any signs of cowardice in harry feversham, and the charge startled him perpetually into incredulity. but the fact remained. something had happened on the night of the ball at lennon house, and from that date harry had been an outcast. suppose that a white feather had been forwarded to lennon house, and had been opened in ethne's presence? or more than one white feather? ethne had come back from her long talk with willoughby holding that white feather as though there was nothing so precious in all the world. so much mrs. adair had told him. it followed, then, that the cowardice was atoned, or in one particular atoned. ethne's recapture of her youth pointed inevitably to that conclusion. she treasured the feather because it was no longer a symbol of cowardice but a symbol of cowardice atoned. but harry feversham had not returned, he still slunk in the world's by-ways. willoughby, then, was not the only man who had brought the accusation; there were others--two others. one of the two durrance had long since identified. when durrance had suggested that harry might be taken to omdurman, ethne had at once replied, "colonel trench is in omdurman." she needed no explanation of harry's disappearance from wadi halfa into the southern soudan. it was deliberate; he had gone out to be captured, to be taken to omdurman. moreover, ethne had spoken of the untrustworthiness of the go-between, and there again had helped durrance in his conjectures. there was some obligation upon feversham to come to trench's help. suppose that feversham had laid his plans of rescue, and had ventured out into the desert that he might be his own go-between. it followed that a second feather had been sent to ramelton, and that trench had sent it. to-night durrance was able to join major castleton to trench and willoughby. ethne's satisfaction at the death of a man whom she did not know could mean but the one thing. there would be the same obligation resting upon feversham with regard to major castleton if he lived. it seemed likely that a third feather had come to lennon house, and that major castleton had sent it. durrance pondered over the solution of the problem, and more and more he found it plausible. there was one man who could have told him the truth and who had refused to tell it, who would no doubt still refuse to tell it. but that one man's help durrance intended to enlist, and to this end he must come with the story pat upon his lips and no request for information. "yes," he said, "i think that after my next visit to london i can pay a visit to lieutenant sutch." chapter xxii durrance lets his cigar go out captain willoughby was known at his club for a bore. he was a determined raconteur of pointless stories about people with whom not one of his audience was acquainted. and there was no deterring him, for he did not listen, he only talked. he took the most savage snub with a vacant and amicable face; and, wrapped in his own dull thoughts, he continued his copious monologue. in the smoking-room or at the supper-table he crushed conversation flat as a steam-roller crushes a road. he was quite irresistible. trite anecdotes were sandwiched between aphorisms of the copybook; and whether anecdote or aphorism, all was delivered with the air of a man surprised by his own profundity. if you waited long enough, you had no longer the will power to run away, you sat caught in a web of sheer dulness. only those, however, who did not know him waited long enough; the rest of his fellow-members at his appearance straightway rose and fled. it happened, therefore, that within half an hour of his entrance to his club, he usually had one large corner of the room entirely to himself; and that particular corner up to the moment of his entrance had been the most frequented. for he made it a rule to choose the largest group as his audience. he was sitting in this solitary state one afternoon early in october, when the waiter approached him and handed to him a card. captain willoughby took it with alacrity, for he desired company, and his acquaintances had all left the club to fulfil the most pressing and imperative engagements. but as he read the card his countenance fell. "colonel durrance!" he said, and scratched his head thoughtfully. durrance had never in his life paid him a friendly visit before, and why should he go out of his way to do so now? it looked as if durrance had somehow got wind of his journey to kingsbridge. "does colonel durrance know that i am in the club?" he asked. "yes, sir," replied the waiter. "very well. show him in." durrance had, no doubt come to ask questions, and diplomacy would be needed to elude them. captain willoughby had no mind to meddle any further in the affairs of miss ethne eustace. feversham and durrance must fight their battle without his intervention. he did not distrust his powers of diplomacy, but he was not anxious to exert them in this particular case, and he looked suspiciously at durrance as he entered the room. durrance, however, had apparently no questions to ask. willoughby rose from his chair, and crossing the room, guided his visitor over to his deserted corner. "will you smoke?" he said, and checked himself. "i beg your pardon." "oh, i'll smoke," durrance answered. "it's not quite true that a man can't enjoy his tobacco without seeing the smoke of it. if i let my cigar out, i should know at once. but you will see, i shall not let it out." he lighted his cigar with deliberation and leaned back in his chair. "i am lucky to find you, willoughby," he continued, "for i am only in town for to-day. i come up every now and then from devonshire to see my oculist, and i was very anxious to meet you if i could. on my last visit mather told me that you were away in the country. you remember mather, i suppose? he was with us in suakin." "of course, i remember him quite well," said willoughby, heartily. he was more than willing to talk about mather; he had a hope that in talking about mather, durrance might forget that other matter which caused him anxiety. "we are both of us curious," durrance continued, "and you can clear up the point we are curious about. did you ever come across an arab called abou fatma?" "abou fatma," said willoughby, slowly, "one of the hadendoas?" "no, a man of the kabbabish tribe." "abou fatma?" willoughby repeated, as though for the first time he had heard the name. "no, i never came across him;" and then he stopped. it occurred to durrance that it was not a natural place at which to stop; willoughby might have been expected to add, "why do you ask me?" or some question of the kind. but he kept silent. as a matter of fact, he was wondering how in the world durrance had ever come to hear of abou fatma, whose name he himself had heard for the first and last time a year ago upon the verandah of the palace at suakin. for he had spoken the truth. he never had come across abou fatma, although feversham had spoken of him. "that makes me still more curious," durrance continued. "mather and i were together on the last reconnaissance in ' , and we found abou fatma hiding in the bushes by the sinkat fort. he told us about the gordon letters which he had hidden in berber. ah! you remember his name now." "i was merely getting my pipe out of my pocket," said willoughby. "but i do remember the name now that you mention the letters." "they were brought to you in suakin fifteen months or so back. mather showed me the paragraph in the _evening standard_. and i am curious as to whether abou fatma returned to berber and recovered them. but since you have never come across him, it follows that he was not the man." captain willoughby began to feel sorry that he had been in such haste to deny all acquaintance with abou fatma of the kabbabish tribe. "no; it was not abou fatma," he said, with an awkward sort of hesitation. he dreaded the next question which durrance would put to him. he filled his pipe, pondering what answer he should make to it. but durrance put no question at all for the moment. "i wondered," he said slowly. "i thought that abou fatma would hardly return to berber. for, indeed, whoever undertook the job undertook it at the risk of his life, and, since gordon was dead, for no very obvious reason." "quite so," said willoughby, in a voice of relief. it seemed that durrance's curiosity was satisfied with the knowledge that abou fatma had not recovered the letters. "quite so. since gordon was dead, for no reason." "for no obvious reason, i think i said," durrance remarked imperturbably. willoughby turned and glanced suspiciously at his companion, wondering whether, after all, durrance knew of his visit to kingsbridge and its motive. durrance, however, smoked his cigar, leaning back in his chair with his face tilted up towards the ceiling. he seemed, now that his curiosity was satisfied, to have lost interest in the history of the gordon letters. at all events, he put no more questions upon that subject to embarrass captain willoughby, and indeed there was no need that he should. thinking over the possible way by which harry feversham might have redeemed himself in willoughby's eyes from the charge of cowardice, durrance could only hit upon this recovery of the letters from the ruined wall in berber. there had been no personal danger to the inhabitants of suakin since the days of that last reconnaissance. the great troop-ships had steamed between the coral reefs towards suez, and no cry for help had ever summoned them back. willoughby risked only his health in that white palace on the red sea. there could not have been a moment when feversham was in a position to say, "your life was forfeit but for me, whom you call coward." and durrance, turning over in his mind all the news and gossip which had come to him at wadi halfa or during his furloughs, had been brought to conjecture whether that fugitive from khartum, who had told him his story in the glacis of the silent ruined fort of sinkat during one drowsy afternoon of may, had not told it again at suakin within feversham's hearing. he was convinced now that his conjecture was correct. willoughby's reticence was in itself a sufficient confirmation. willoughby, without doubt, had been instructed by ethne to keep his tongue in a leash. colonel durrance was prepared for reticence, he looked to reticence as the answer to his conjecture. his trained ear, besides, had warned him that willoughby was uneasy at his visit and careful in his speech. there had been pauses, during which durrance was as sure as though he had eyes wherewith to see, that his companion was staring at him suspiciously and wondering how much he knew, or how little. there had been an accent of wariness and caution in his voice, which was hatefully familiar to durrance's ears, for just with that accent ethne had been wont to speak. moreover, durrance had set traps,--that remark of his "for no obvious reason, i think i said," had been one,--and a little start here, or a quick turn there, showed him that willoughby had tumbled into them. he had no wish, however, that willoughby should write off to ethne and warn her that durrance was making inquiries. that was a possibility, he recognised, and he set himself to guard against it. "i want to tell you why i was anxious to meet you," he said. "it was because of harry feversham;" and captain willoughby, who was congratulating himself that he was well out of an awkward position, fairly jumped in his seat. it was not durrance's policy, however, to notice his companion's agitation, and he went on quickly: "something happened to feversham. it's more than five years ago now. he did something, i suppose, or left something undone,--the secret, at all events, has been closely kept,--and he dropped out, and his place knew him no more. now you are going back to the soudan, willoughby?" "yes," willoughby answered, "in a week's time." "well, harry feversham is in the soudan," said durrance, leaning towards his companion. "you know that?" exclaimed willoughby. "yes, for i came across him this spring at wadi halfa," durrance continued. "he had fallen rather low," and he told willoughby of their meeting outside of the café of tewfikieh. "it's strange, isn't it?--a man whom one knew very well going under like that in a second, disappearing before your eyes as it were, dropping plumb out of sight as though down an oubliette in an old french castle. i want you to look out for him, willoughby, and do what you can to set him on his legs again. let me know if you chance on him. harry feversham was a friend of mine--one of my few real friends." "all right," said willoughby, cheerfully. durrance knew at once from the tone of his voice that suspicion was quieted in him. "i will look out for feversham. i remember he was a great friend of yours." he stretched out his hand towards the matches upon the table beside him. durrance heard the scrape of the phosphorus and the flare of the match. willoughby was lighting his pipe. it was a well-seasoned piece of briar, and needed a cleaning; it bubbled as he held the match to the tobacco and sucked at the mouthpiece. "yes, a great friend," said durrance. "you and i dined with him in his flat high up above st. james's park just before we left england." and at that chance utterance willoughby's briar pipe ceased suddenly to bubble. a moment's silence followed, then willoughby swore violently, and a second later he stamped upon the carpet. durrance's imagination was kindled by this simple sequence of events, and he straightway made up a little picture in his mind. in one chair himself smoking his cigar, a round table holding a match-stand on his left hand, and on the other side of the table captain willoughby in another chair. but captain willoughby lighting his pipe and suddenly arrested in the act by a sentence spoken without significance, captain willoughby staring suspiciously in his slow-witted way at the blind man's face, until the lighted match, which he had forgotten, burnt down to his fingers, and he swore and dropped it and stamped it out upon the floor. durrance had never given a thought to that dinner till this moment. it was possible it might deserve much thought. "there were you and i and feversham present," he went on. "feversham had asked us there to tell us of his engagement to miss eustace. he had just come back from dublin. that was almost the last we saw of him." he took a pull at his cigar and added, "by the way, there was a third man present." "was there?" asked willoughby. "it's so long ago." "yes--trench." "to be sure, trench was present. it will be a long time, i am afraid, before we dine at the same table with poor old trench again." the carelessness of his voice was well assumed; he leaned forwards and struck another match and lighted his pipe. as he did so, durrance laid down his cigar upon the table edge. "and we shall never dine with castleton again," he said slowly. "castleton wasn't there," willoughby exclaimed, and quickly enough to betray that, however long the interval since that little dinner in feversham's rooms, it was at all events still distinct in his recollections. "no, but he was expected," said durrance. "no, not even expected," corrected willoughby. "he was dining elsewhere. he sent the telegram, you remember." "ah, yes, a telegram came," said durrance. that dinner party certainly deserved consideration. willoughby, trench, castleton--these three men were the cause of harry feversham's disgrace and disappearance. durrance tried to recollect all the details of the evening; but he had been occupied himself on that occasion. he remembered leaning against the window above st. james's park; he remembered hearing the tattoo from the parade-ground of wellington barracks--and a telegram had come. durrance made up another picture in his mind. harry feversham at the table reading and re-reading his telegram, trench and willoughby waiting silently, perhaps expectantly, and himself paying no heed, but staring out from the bright room into the quiet and cool of the park. "castleton was dining with a big man from the war office that night," durrance said, and a little movement at his side warned him that he was getting hot in his search. he sat for a while longer talking about the prospects of the soudan, and then rose up from his chair. "well, i can rely on you, willoughby, to help feversham if ever you find him. draw on me for money." "i will do my best," said willoughby. "you are going? i could have won a bet off you this afternoon." "how?" "you said that you did not let your cigars go out. this one's stone cold." "i forgot about it; i was thinking of feversham. good-bye." he took a cab and drove away from the club door. willoughby was glad to see the last of him, but he was fairly satisfied with his own exhibition of diplomacy. it would have been strange, after all, he thought, if he had not been able to hoodwink poor old durrance; and he returned to the smoking-room and refreshed himself with a whiskey and potass. durrance, however, had not been hoodwinked. the last perplexing question had been answered for him that afternoon. he remembered now that no mention had been made at the dinner which could identify the sender of the telegram. feversham had read it without a word, and without a word had crumpled it up and tossed it into the fire. but to-day willoughby had told him that it had come from castleton, and castleton had been dining with a high official of the war office. the particular act of cowardice which had brought the three white feathers to ramelton was easy to discern. almost the next day feversham had told durrance in the row that he had resigned his commission, and durrance knew that he had not resigned it when the telegram came. that telegram could have brought only one piece of news, that feversham's regiment was ordered on active service. the more durrance reflected, the more certain he felt that he had at last hit upon the truth. nothing could be more natural than that castleton should telegraph his good news in confidence to his friends. durrance had the story now complete, or rather, the sequence of facts complete. for why feversham should have been seized with panic, why he should have played the coward the moment after he was engaged to ethne eustace--at a time, in a word, when every manly quality he possessed should have been at its strongest and truest, remained for durrance, and indeed, was always to remain, an inexplicable problem. but he put that question aside, classing it among the considerations which he had learnt to estimate as small and unimportant. the simple and true thing--the thing of real importance--emerged definite and clear: harry feversham was atoning for his one act of cowardice with a full and an overflowing measure of atonement. "i shall astonish old sutch," he thought, with a chuckle. he took the night mail into devonshire the same evening, and reached his home before midday. chapter xxiii mrs. adair makes her apology within the drawing-room at the pool, durrance said good-bye to ethne. he had so arranged it that there should be little time for that leave-taking, and already the carriage stood at the steps of guessens, with his luggage strapped upon the roof and his servant waiting at the door. ethne came out with him on to the terrace, where mrs. adair stood at the top of the flight of steps. durrance held out his hand to her, but she turned to ethne and said:-- "i want to speak to colonel durrance before he goes." "very well," said ethne. "then we will say good-bye here," she added to durrance. "you will write from wiesbaden? soon, please!" "the moment i arrive," answered durrance. he descended the steps with mrs. adair, and left ethne standing upon the terrace. the last scene of pretence had been acted out, the months of tension and surveillance had come to an end, and both were thankful for their release. durrance showed that he was glad even in the briskness of his walk, as he crossed the lawn at mrs. adair's side. she, however, lagged, and when she spoke it was in a despondent voice. "so you are going," she said. "in two days' time you will be at wiesbaden and ethne at glenalla. we shall all be scattered. it will be lonely here." she had had her way; she had separated ethne and durrance for a time at all events; she was no longer to be tortured by the sight of them and the sound of their voices; but somehow her interference had brought her little satisfaction. "the house will seem very empty after you are all gone," she said; and she turned at durrance's side and walked down with him into the garden. "we shall come back, no doubt," said durrance, reassuringly. mrs. adair looked about her garden. the flowers were gone, and the sunlight; clouds stretched across the sky overhead, the green of the grass underfoot was dull, the stream ran grey in the gap between the trees, and the leaves from the branches were blown russet and yellow about the lawns. "how long shall you stay at wiesbaden?" she asked. "i can hardly tell. but as long as it's advisable," he answered. "that tells me nothing at all. i suppose it was meant not to tell me anything." durrance did not answer her, and she resented his silence. she knew nothing whatever of his plans; she was unaware whether he meant to break his engagement with ethne or to hold her to it, and curiosity consumed her. it might be a very long time before she saw him again, and all that long time she must remain tortured with doubts. "you distrust me?" she said defiantly, and with a note of anger in her voice. durrance answered her quite gently:-- "have i no reason to distrust you? why did you tell me of captain willoughby's coming? why did you interfere?" "i thought you ought to know." "but ethne wished the secret kept. i am glad to know, very glad. but, after all, you told me, and you were ethne's friend." "yours, too, i hope," mrs. adair answered, and she exclaimed: "how could i go on keeping silence? don't you understand?" "no." durrance might have understood, but he had never given much thought to mrs. adair, and she knew it. the knowledge rankled within her, and his simple "no" stung her beyond bearing. "i spoke brutally, didn't i?" she said. "i told you the truth as brutally as i could. doesn't that help you to understand?" again durrance said "no," and the monosyllable exasperated her out of all prudence, and all at once she found herself speaking incoherently the things which she had thought. and once she had begun, she could not stop. she stood, as it were, outside of herself, and saw that her speech was madness; yet she went on with it. "i told you the truth brutally on purpose. i was so stung because you would not see what was so visible had you only the mind to see. i wanted to hurt you. i am a bad, bad woman, i suppose. there were you and she in the room talking together in the darkness; there was i alone upon the terrace. it was the same again to-day. you and ethne in the room, i alone upon the terrace. i wonder whether it will always be so. but you will not say--you will not say." she struck her hands together with a gesture of despair, but durrance had no words for her. he walked silently along the garden path towards the stile, and he quickened his pace a little, so that mrs. adair had to walk fast to keep up with him. that quickening of the pace was a sort of answer, but mrs. adair was not deterred by it. her madness had taken hold of her. "i do not think i would have minded so much," she continued, "if ethne had really cared for you; but she never cared more than as a friend cares, just a mere friend. and what's friendship worth?" she asked scornfully. "something, surely," said durrance. "it does not prevent ethne from shrinking from her friend," cried mrs. adair. "she shrinks from you. shall i tell you why? because you are blind. she is afraid. while i--i will tell you the truth--i am glad. when the news first came from wadi halfa that you were blind, i was glad; when i saw you in hill street, i was glad; ever since, i have been glad--quite glad. because i saw that she shrank. from the beginning she shrank, thinking how her life would be hampered and fettered," and the scorn of mrs. adair's voice increased, though her voice itself was sunk to a whisper. "i am not afraid," she said, and she repeated the words passionately again and again. "i am not afraid. i am not afraid." to durrance it seemed that in all his experience nothing so horrible had ever occurred as this outburst by the woman who was ethne's friend, nothing so unforeseen. "ethne wrote to you at wadi halfa out of pity," she went on, "that was all. she wrote out of pity; and, having written, she was afraid of what she had done; and being afraid, she had not courage to tell you she was afraid. you would not have blamed her, if she had frankly admitted it; you would have remained her friend. but she had not the courage." durrance knew that there was another explanation of ethne's hesitations and timidities. he knew, too, that the other explanation was the true one. but to-morrow he himself would be gone from the salcombe estuary, and ethne would be on her way to the irish channel and donegal. it was not worth while to argue against mrs. adair's slanders. besides, he was close upon the stile which separated the garden of the pool from the fields. once across that stile, he would be free of mrs. adair. he contented himself with saying quietly:-- "you are not just to ethne." at that simple utterance the madness of mrs. adair went from her. she recognised the futility of all that she had said, of her boastings of courage, of her detractions of ethne. her words might be true or not, they could achieve nothing. durrance was always in the room with ethne, never upon the terrace with mrs. adair. she became conscious of her degradation, and she fell to excuses. "i am a bad woman, i suppose. but after all, i have not had the happiest of lives. perhaps there is something to be said for me." it sounded pitiful and weak, even in her ears; but they had reached the stile, and durrance had turned towards her. she saw that his face lost something of its sternness. he was standing quietly, prepared now to listen to what she might wish to say. he remembered that in the old days when he could see, he had always associated her with a dignity of carriage and a reticence of speech. it seemed hardly possible that it was the same woman who spoke to him now, and the violence of the contrast made him ready to believe that there must be perhaps something to be said on her behalf. "will you tell me?" he said gently. "i was married almost straight from school. i was the merest girl. i knew nothing, and i was married to a man of whom i knew nothing. it was my mother's doing, and no doubt she thought that she was acting for the very best. she was securing for me a position of a kind, and comfort and release from any danger of poverty. i accepted what she said blindly, ignorantly. i could hardly have refused, indeed, for my mother was an imperious woman, and i was accustomed to obedience. i did as she told me and married dutifully the man whom she chose. the case is common enough, no doubt, but its frequency does not make it easier of endurance." "but mr. adair?" said durrance. "after all, i knew him. he was older, no doubt, than you, but he was kind. i think, too, he cared for you." "yes. he was kindness itself, and he cared for me. both things are true. the knowledge that he did care for me was the one link, if you understand. at the beginning i was contented, i suppose. i had a house in town and another here. but it was dull," and she stretched out her arms. "oh, how dull it was! do you know the little back streets in a manufacturing town? rows of small houses, side by side, with nothing to relieve them of their ugly regularity, each with the self-same windows, the self-same door, the self-same door-step. overhead a drift of smoke, and every little green thing down to the plants in the window dirty and black. the sort of street whence any crazy religious charlatan who can promise a little colour to their grey lives can get as many votaries as he wants. well, when i thought over my life, one of those little streets always came into my mind. there are women, heaps of them, no doubt, to whom the management of a big house, the season in london, the ordinary round of visits, are sufficient. i, worse luck, was not one of them. dull! you, with your hundred thousand things to do, cannot conceive how oppressively dull my life was. and that was not all!" she hesitated, but she could not stop midway, and it was far too late for her to recover her ground. she went on to the end. "i married, as i say, knowing nothing of the important things. i believed at the first that mine was just the allotted life of all women. but i began soon to have my doubts. i got to know that there was something more to be won out of existence than mere dulness; at least, that there was something more for others, though not for me. one could not help learning that. one passed a man and a woman riding together, and one chanced to look into the woman's face as one passed; or one saw, perhaps, the woman alone and talked with her for a little while, and from the happiness of her looks and voice one knew with absolute certainty that there was ever so much more. only the chance of that ever so much more my mother had denied to me." all the sternness had now gone from durrance's face, and mrs. adair was speaking with a great simplicity. of the violence which she had used before there was no longer any trace. she did not appeal for pity, she was not even excusing herself; she was just telling her story quietly and gently. "and then you came," she continued. "i met you, and met you again. you went away upon your duties and you returned; and i learnt now, not that there was ever so much more, but just what that ever so much more was. but it was still, of course, denied to me. however, in spite of that i felt happier. i thought that i should be quite content to have you for a friend, to watch your progress, and to feel pride in it. but you see--ethne came, too, and you turned to her. at once--oh, at once! if you had only been a little less quick to turn to her! in a very short while i was sad and sorry that you had ever come into my life." "i knew nothing of this," said durrance. "i never suspected. i am sorry." "i took care you should not suspect," said mrs. adair. "but i tried to keep you; with all my wits i tried. no match-maker in the world ever worked so hard to bring two people together as i did to bring together ethne and mr. feversham, and i succeeded." the statement came upon durrance with a shock. he leaned back against the stile and could have laughed. here was the origin of the whole sad business. from what small beginnings it had grown! it is a trite reflection, but the personal application of it is apt to take away the breath. it was so with durrance as he thought himself backwards into those days when he had walked on his own path, heedless of the people with whom he came in touch, never dreaming that they were at that moment influencing his life right up to his dying day. feversham's disgrace and ruin, ethne's years of unhappiness, the wearying pretences of the last few months, all had their origin years ago when mrs. adair, to keep durrance to herself, threw feversham and ethne into each other's company. "i succeeded," continued mrs. adair. "you told me that i had succeeded one morning in the row. how glad i was! you did not notice it, i am sure. the next moment you took all my gladness from me by telling me you were starting for the soudan. you were away three years. they were not happy years for me. you came back. my husband was dead, but ethne was free. ethne refused you, but you went blind and she claimed you. you can see what ups and downs have fallen to me. but these months here have been the worst." "i am very sorry," said durrance. mrs. adair was quite right, he thought. there was indeed something to be said on her behalf. the world had gone rather hardly with her. he was able to realise what she had suffered, since he was suffering in much the same way himself. it was quite intelligible to him why she had betrayed ethne's secret that night upon the terrace, and he could not but be gentle with her. "i am very sorry, mrs. adair," he repeated lamely. there was nothing more which he could find to say, and he held out his hand to her. "good-bye," she said, and durrance climbed over the stile and crossed the fields to his house. mrs. adair stood by that stile for a long while after he had gone. she had shot her bolt and hit no one but herself and the man for whom she cared. she realised that distinctly. she looked forward a little, too, and she understood that if durrance did not, after all, keep ethne to her promise and marry her and go with her to her country, he would come back to guessens. that reflection showed mrs. adair yet more clearly the folly of her outcry. if she had only kept silence, she would have had a very true and constant friend for her neighbour, and that would have been something. it would have been a good deal. but, since she had spoken, they could never meet without embarrassment, and, practise cordiality as they might, there would always remain in their minds the recollection of what she had said and he had listened to on the afternoon when he left for wiesbaden. chapter xxiv on the nile it was a callous country inhabited by a callous race, thought calder, as he travelled down the nile from wadi halfa to assouan on his three months' furlough. he leaned over the rail of the upper deck of the steamer and looked down upon the barge lashed alongside. on the lower deck of the barge among the native passengers stood an angareb,[ ] whereon was stretched the motionless figure of a human being shrouded in a black veil. the angareb and its burden had been carried on board early that morning at korosko by two arabs, who now sat laughing and chattering in the stern of the barge. it might have been a dead man or a dead woman who lay still and stretched out upon the bedstead, so little heed did they give to it. calder lifted his eyes and looked to his right and his left across glaring sand and barren rocks shaped roughly into the hard forms of pyramids. the narrow meagre strip of green close by the water's edge upon each bank was the only response which the soudan made to spring and summer and the beneficent rain. a callous country inhabited by a callous people. [footnote : the native bedstead of matting woven across a four-legged frame.] calder looked downwards again to the angareb upon the barge's deck and the figure lying upon it. whether it was man or woman he could not tell. the black veil lay close about the face, outlining the nose, the hollows of the eyes and the mouth; but whether the lips wore a moustache and the chin a beard, it did not reveal. the slanting sunlight crept nearer and nearer to the angareb. the natives seated close to it moved into the shadow of the upper deck, but no one moved the angareb, and the two men laughing in the stern gave no thought to their charge. calder watched the blaze of yellow light creep over the black recumbent figure from the feet upwards. it burnt at last bright and pitiless upon the face. yet the living creature beneath the veil never stirred. the veil never fluttered above the lips, the legs remained stretched out straight, the arms lay close against the side. calder shouted to the two men in the stern. "move the angareb into the shadow," he cried, "and be quick!" the arabs rose reluctantly and obeyed him. "is it a man or woman?" asked calder. "a man. we are taking him to the hospital at assouan, but we do not think that he will live. he fell from a palm tree three weeks ago." "you give him nothing to eat or drink?" "he is too ill." it was a common story and the logical outcome of the belief that life and death are written and will inevitably befall after the manner of the writing. that man lying so quiet beneath the black covering had probably at the beginning suffered nothing more serious than a bruise, which a few simple remedies would have cured within a week. but he had been allowed to lie, even as he lay upon the angareb, at the mercy of the sun and the flies, unwashed, unfed, and with his thirst unslaked. the bruise had become a sore, the sore had gangrened, and when all remedies were too late, the egyptian mudir of korosko had discovered the accident and sent the man on the steamer down to assouan. but, familiar though the story was, calder could not dismiss it from his thoughts. the immobility of the sick man upon the native bedstead in a way fascinated him, and when towards sunset a strong wind sprang up and blew against the stream, he felt an actual comfort in the knowledge that the sick man would gain some relief from it. and when his neighbour that evening at the dinner table spoke to him with a german accent, he suddenly asked upon an impulse:-- "you are not a doctor by any chance?" "not a doctor," said the german, "but a student of medicine at bonn. i came from cairo to see the second cataract, but was not allowed to go farther than wadi halfa." calder interrupted him at once. "then i will trespass upon your holiday and claim your professional assistance." "for yourself? with pleasure, though i should never have guessed you were ill," said the student, smiling good-naturedly behind his eyeglasses. "nor am i. it is an arab for whom i ask your help." "the man on the bedstead?" "yes, if you will be so good. i will warn you--he was hurt three weeks ago, and i know these people. no one will have touched him since he was hurt. the sight will not be pretty. this is not a nice country for untended wounds." the german student shrugged his shoulders. "all experience is good," said he, and the two men rose from the table and went out on to the upper deck. the wind had freshened during the dinner, and, blowing up stream, had raised waves so that the steamer and its barge tossed and the water broke on board. "he was below there," said the student, as he leaned over the rail and peered downwards to the lower deck of the barge alongside. it was night, and the night was dark. above that lower deck only one lamp, swung from the centre of the upper deck, glimmered and threw uncertain lights and uncertain shadows over a small circle. beyond the circle all was black darkness, except at the bows, where the water breaking on board flung a white sheet of spray. it could be seen like a sprinkle of snow driven by the wind, it could be heard striking the deck like the lash of a whip. "he has been moved," said the german. "no doubt he has been moved. there is no one in the bows." calder bent his head downwards and stared into the darkness for a little while without speaking. "i believe the angareb is there," he said at length. "i believe it is." followed by the german, he hurried down the stairway to the lower deck of the steamer and went to the side. he could make certain now. the angareb stood in a wash of water on the very spot to which at calder's order it had been moved that morning. and on the angareb the figure beneath the black covering lay as motionless as ever, as inexpressive of life and feeling, though the cold spray broke continually upon its face. "i thought it would be so," said calder. he got a lantern and with the german student climbed across the bulwarks on to the barge. he summoned the two arabs. "move the angareb from the bows," he said; and when they had obeyed, "now take that covering off. i wish my friend who is a doctor to see the wound." the two men hesitated, and then one of them with an air of insolence objected. "there are doctors in assouan, whither we are taking him." calder raised the lantern and himself drew the veil away from off the wounded man. "now if you please," he said to his companion. the german student made his examination of the wounded thigh, while calder held the lantern above his head. as calder had predicted, it was not a pleasant business; for the wound crawled. the german student was glad to cover it up again. "i can do nothing," he said. "perhaps, in a hospital, with baths and dressings--! relief will be given at all events; but more? i do not know. here i could not even begin to do anything at all. do these two men understand english?" "no," answered calder. "then i can tell you something. he did not get the hurt by falling out of any palm tree. that is a lie. the injury was done by the blade of a spear or some weapon of the kind." "are you sure?" "yes." calder bent down suddenly towards the arab on the angareb. although he never moved, the man was conscious. calder had been looking steadily at him, and he saw that his eyes followed the spoken words. "you understand english?" said calder. the arab could not answer with his lips, but a look of comprehension came into his face. "where do you come from?" asked calder. the lips tried to move, but not so much as a whisper escaped from them. yet his eyes spoke, but spoke vainly. for the most which they could tell was a great eagerness to answer. calder dropped upon his knee close by the man's head and, holding the lantern close, enunciated the towns. "from dongola?" no gleam in the arab's eyes responded to that name. "from metemneh? from berber? from omdurman? ah!" the arab answered to that word. he closed his eyelids. calder went on still more eagerly. "you were wounded there? no. where then? at berber? yes. you were in prison at omdurman and escaped? no. yet you were wounded." calder sank back upon his knee and reflected. his reflections roused in him some excitement. he bent down to the arab's ear and spoke in a lower key. "you were helping some one to escape? yes. who? el kaimakam trench? no." he mentioned the names of other white captives in omdurman, and to each name the arab's eyes answered "no." "it was effendi feversham, then?" he said, and the eyes assented as clearly as though the lips had spoken. but this was all the information which calder could secure. "i too am pledged to help effendi feversham," he said, but in vain. the arab could not speak, he could not so much as tell his name, and his companions would not. whatever those two men knew or suspected, they had no mind to meddle in the matter themselves, and they clung consistently to a story which absolved them from responsibility. kinsmen of theirs in korosko, hearing that they were travelling to assouan, had asked them to take charge of the wounded man, who was a stranger to them, and they had consented. calder could get nothing more explicit from them than this statement, however closely he questioned them. he had under his hand the information which he desired, the news of harry feversham for which durrance asked by every mail, but it was hidden from him in a locked book. he stood beside the helpless man upon the angareb. there he was, eager enough to speak, but the extremity of weakness to which he had sunk laid a finger upon his lips. all that calder could do was to see him safely bestowed within the hospital at assouan. "will he recover?" calder asked, and the doctors shook their heads in doubt. there was a chance perhaps, a very slight chance; but at the best, recovery would be slow. calder continued upon his journey to cairo and europe. an opportunity of helping harry feversham had slipped away; for the arab who could not even speak his name was abou fatma of the kabbabish tribe, and his presence wounded and helpless upon the nile steamer between korosko and assouan meant that harry feversham's carefully laid plan for the rescue of colonel trench had failed. chapter xxv lieutenant sutch comes off the half-pay list at the time when calder, disappointed at his failure to obtain news of feversham from the one man who possessed it, stepped into a carriage of the train at assouan, lieutenant sutch was driving along a high white road of hampshire across a common of heather and gorse; and he too was troubled on harry feversham's account. like many a man who lives much alone, lieutenant sutch had fallen into the habit of speaking his thoughts aloud. and as he drove slowly and reluctantly forward, more than once he said to himself: "i foresaw there would be trouble. from the beginning i foresaw there would be trouble." the ridge of hill along which he drove dipped suddenly to a hollow. sutch saw the road run steeply down in front of him between forests of pines to a little railway station. the sight of the rails gleaming bright in the afternoon sunlight, and the telegraph poles running away in a straight line until they seemed to huddle together in the distance, increased sutch's discomposure. he reined his pony in, and sat staring with a frown at the red-tiled roof of the station building. "i promised harry to say nothing," he said; and drawing some makeshift of comfort from the words, repeated them, "i promised faithfully in the criterion grill-room." the whistle of an engine a long way off sounded clear and shrill. it roused lieutenant sutch from his gloomy meditations. he saw the white smoke of an approaching train stretch out like a riband in the distance. "i wonder what brings him," he said doubtfully; and then with an effort at courage, "well, it's no use shirking." he flicked the pony with his whip and drove briskly down the hill. he reached the station as the train drew up at the platform. only two passengers descended from the train. they were durrance and his servant, and they came out at once on to the road. lieutenant sutch hailed durrance, who walked to the side of the trap. "you received my telegram in time, then?" said durrance. "luckily it found me at home." "i have brought a bag. may i trespass upon you for a night's lodging?" "by all means," said sutch, but the tone of his voice quite clearly to durrance's ears belied the heartiness of the words. durrance, however, was prepared for a reluctant welcome, and he had purposely sent his telegram at the last moment. had he given an address, he suspected that he might have received a refusal of his visit. and his suspicion was accurate enough. the telegram, it is true, had merely announced durrance's visit, it had stated nothing of his object; but its despatch was sufficient to warn sutch that something grave had happened, something untoward in the relations of ethne eustace and durrance. durrance had come, no doubt, to renew his inquiries about harry feversham, those inquiries which sutch was on no account to answer, which he must parry all this afternoon and night. but he saw durrance feeling about with his raised foot for the step of the trap, and the fact of his visitor's blindness was brought home to him. he reached out a hand, and catching durrance by the arm, helped him up. after all, he thought, it would not be difficult to hoodwink a blind man. ethne herself had had the same thought and felt much the same relief as sutch felt now. the lieutenant, indeed, was so relieved that he found room for an impulse of pity. "i was very sorry, durrance, to hear of your bad luck," he said, as he drove off up the hill. "i know what it is myself to be suddenly stopped and put aside just when one is making way and the world is smoothing itself out, though my wound in the leg is nothing in comparison to your blindness. i don't talk to you about compensations and patience. that's the gabble of people who are comfortable and haven't suffered. _we_ know that for a man who is young and active, and who is doing well in a career where activity is a necessity, there are no compensations if his career's suddenly cut short through no fault of his." "through no fault of his," repeated durrance. "i agree with you. it is only the man whose career is cut short through his own fault who gets compensations." sutch glanced sharply at his companion. durrance had spoken slowly and very thoughtfully. did he mean to refer to harry feversham, sutch wondered. did he know enough to be able so to refer to him? or was it merely by chance that his words were so strikingly apposite? "compensations of what kind?" sutch asked uneasily. "the chance of knowing himself for one thing, for the chief thing. he is brought up short, stopped in his career, perhaps disgraced." sutch started a little at the word. "yes, perhaps--disgraced," durrance repeated. "well, the shock of the disgrace is, after all, his opportunity. don't you see that? it's his opportunity to know himself at last. up to the moment of disgrace his life has all been sham and illusion; the man he believed himself to be, he never was, and now at the last he knows it. once he knows it, he can set about to retrieve his disgrace. oh, there are compensations for such a man. you and i know a case in point." sutch no longer doubted that durrance was deliberately referring to harry feversham. he had some knowledge, though how he had gained it sutch could not guess. but the knowledge was not to sutch's idea quite accurate, and the inaccuracy did harry feversham some injustice. it was on that account chiefly that sutch did not affect any ignorance as to durrance's allusion. the passage of the years had not diminished his great regard for harry; he cared for him indeed with a woman's concentration of love, and he could not endure that his memory should be slighted. "the case you and i know of is not quite in point," he argued. "you are speaking of harry feversham." "who believed himself a coward, and was not one. he commits the fault which stops his career, he finds out his mistake, he sets himself to the work of retrieving his disgrace. surely it's a case quite in point." "yes, i see," sutch agreed. "there is another view, a wrong view as i know, but i thought for the moment it was your view--that harry fancied himself to be a brave man and was suddenly brought up short by discovering that he was a coward. but how did you find out? no one knew the whole truth except myself." "i am engaged to miss eustace," said durrance. "she did not know everything. she knew of the disgrace, but she did not know of the determination to retrieve it." "she knows now," said durrance; and he added sharply, "you are glad of that--very glad." sutch was not aware that by any movement or exclamation he had betrayed his pleasure. his face, no doubt, showed it clearly enough, but durrance could not see his face. lieutenant sutch was puzzled, but he did not deny the imputation. "it is true," he said stoutly. "i am very glad that she knows. i can quite see that from your point of view it would be better if she did not know. but i cannot help it. i am very glad." durrance laughed, and not at all unpleasantly. "i like you the better for being glad," he said. "but how does miss eustace know?" asked sutch. "who told her? i did not, and there is no one else who could tell her." "you are wrong. there is captain willoughby. he came to devonshire six weeks ago. he brought with him a white feather which he gave to miss eustace, as a proof that he withdrew his charge of cowardice against harry feversham." sutch stopped the pony in the middle of the road. he no longer troubled to conceal the joy which this good news caused him. indeed, he forgot altogether durrance's presence at his side. he sat quite silent and still, with a glow of happiness upon him, such as he had never known in all his life. he was an old man now, well on in his sixties; he had reached an age when the blood runs slow, and the pleasures are of a grey sober kind, and joy has lost its fevers. but there welled up in his heart a gladness of such buoyancy as only falls to the lot of youth. five years ago on the pier of dover he had watched a mail packet steam away into darkness and rain, and had prayed that he might live until this great moment should come. and he had lived and it had come. his heart was lifted up in gratitude. it seemed to him that there was a great burst of sunlight across the world, and that the world itself had suddenly grown many-coloured and a place of joys. ever since the night when he had stood outside the war office in pall mall, and harry feversham had touched him on the arm and had spoken out his despair, lieutenant sutch had been oppressed with a sense of guilt. harry was muriel feversham's boy, and sutch just for that reason should have watched him and mothered him in his boyhood since his mother was dead, and fathered him in his youth since his father did not understand. but he had failed. he had failed in a sacred trust, and he had imagined muriel feversham's eyes looking at him with reproach from the barrier of the skies. he had heard her voice in his dreams saying to him gently, ever so gently: "since i was dead, since i was taken away to where i could only see and not help, surely you might have helped. just for my sake you might have helped,--you whose work in the world was at an end." and the long tale of his inactive years had stood up to accuse him. now, however, the guilt was lifted from his shoulders, and by harry feversham's own act. the news was not altogether unexpected, but the lightness of spirit which he felt showed him how much he had counted upon its coming. "i knew," he exclaimed, "i knew he wouldn't fail. oh, i am glad you came to-day, colonel durrance. it was partly my fault, you see, that harry feversham ever incurred that charge of cowardice. i could have spoken--there was an opportunity on one of the crimean nights at broad place, and a word might have been of value--and i held my tongue. i have never ceased to blame myself. i am grateful for your news. you have the particulars? captain willoughby was in peril, and harry came to his aid?" "no, it was not that exactly." "tell me! tell me!" he feared to miss a word. durrance related the story of the gordon letters, and their recovery by feversham. it was all too short for lieutenant sutch. "oh, but i am glad you came," he cried. "you understand at all events," said durrance, "that i have not come to repeat to you the questions i asked in the courtyard of my club. i am able, on the contrary, to give you information." sutch spoke to the pony and drove on. he had said nothing which could reveal to durrance his fear that to renew those questions was the object of his visit; and he was a little perplexed at the accuracy of durrance's conjecture. but the great news to which he had listened hindered him from giving thought to that perplexity. "so miss eustace told you the story," he said, "and showed you the feather?" "no, indeed," replied durrance. "she said not a word about it, she never showed me the feather, she even forbade willoughby to hint of it, she sent him away from devonshire before i knew that he had come. you are disappointed at that," he added quickly. lieutenant sutch was startled. it was true he was disappointed; he was jealous of durrance, he wished harry feversham to stand first in the girl's thoughts. it was for her sake that harry had set about his difficult and perilous work. sutch wished her to remember him as he remembered her. therefore he was disappointed that she did not at once come with her news to durrance and break off their engagement. it would be hard for durrance, no doubt, but that could not be helped. "then how did you learn the story?" asked sutch. "some one else told me. i was told that willoughby had come, and that he had brought a white feather, and that ethne had taken it from him. never mind by whom. that gave me a clue. i lay in wait for willoughby in london. he is not very clever; he tried to obey ethne's command of silence, but i managed to extract the information i wanted. the rest of the story i was able to put together by myself. ethne now and then was off her guard. you are surprised that i was clever enough to find out the truth by the exercise of my own wits?" said durrance, with a laugh. lieutenant sutch jumped in his seat. it was mere chance, of course, that durrance continually guessed with so singular an accuracy; still it was uncomfortable. "i have said nothing which could in any way suggest that i was surprised," he said testily. "that is quite true, but you are none the less surprised," continued durrance. "i don't blame you. you could not know that it is only since i have been blind that i have begun to see. shall i give you an instance? this is the first time that i have ever come into this neighbourhood or got out at your station. well, i can tell you that you have driven me up a hill between forests of pines, and are now driving me across open country of heather." sutch turned quickly towards durrance. "the hill, of course, you would notice. but the pines?" "the air was close. i knew there were trees. i guessed they were pines." "and the open country?" "the wind blows clear across it. there's a dry stiff rustle besides. i have never heard quite that sound except when the wind blows across heather." he turned the conversation back to harry feversham and his disappearance, and the cause of his disappearance. he made no mention, sutch remarked, of the fourth white feather which ethne herself had added to the three. but the history of the three which had come by the post to ramelton he knew to its last letter. "i was acquainted with the men who sent them," he said, "trench, castleton, willoughby. i met them daily in suakin, just ordinary officers, one rather shrewd, the second quite commonplace, the third distinctly stupid. i saw them going quietly about the routine of their work. it seems quite strange to me now. there should have been some mark set upon them, setting them apart as the particular messengers of fate. but there was nothing of the kind. they were just ordinary prosaic regimental officers. doesn't it seem strange to you, too? here were men who could deal out misery and estrangement and years of suffering, without so much as a single word spoken, and they went about their business, and you never knew them from other men until a long while afterwards some consequence of what they did, and very likely have forgotten, rises up and strikes you down." "yes," said sutch. "that thought has occurred to me." he fell to wondering again what object had brought durrance into hampshire, since he did not come for information; but durrance did not immediately enlighten him. they reached the lieutenant's house. it stood alone by the roadside looking across a wide country of downs. sutch took durrance over his stable and showed him his horses, he explained to him the arrangement of his garden and the grouping of his flowers. still durrance said nothing about the reason of his visit; he ceased to talk of harry feversham and assumed a great interest in the lieutenant's garden. but indeed the interest was not all pretence. these two men had something in common, as sutch had pointed out at the moment of their meeting--the abrupt termination of a promising career. one of the two was old, the other comparatively young, and the younger man was most curious to discover how his elder had managed to live through the dragging profitless years alone. the same sort of lonely life lay stretched out before durrance, and he was anxious to learn what alleviations could be practised, what small interests could be discovered, how best it could be got through. "you don't live within sight of the sea," he said at last as they stood together, after making the round of the garden, at the door. "no, i dare not," said sutch, and durrance nodded his head in complete sympathy and comprehension. "i understand. you care for it too much. you would have the full knowledge of your loss presented to your eyes each moment." they went into the house. still durrance did not refer to the object of his visit. they dined together and sat over their wine alone. still durrance did not speak. it fell to lieutenant sutch to recur to the subject of harry feversham. a thought had been gaining strength in his mind all that afternoon, and since durrance would not lead up to its utterance, he spoke it out himself. "harry feversham must come back to england. he has done enough to redeem his honour." harry feversham's return might be a little awkward for durrance, and lieutenant sutch with that notion in his mind blurted out his sentences awkwardly, but to his surprise durrance answered him at once. "i was waiting for you to say that. i wanted you to realise without any suggestion of mine that harry must return. it was with that object that i came." lieutenant sutch's relief was great. he had been prepared for an objection, at the best he only expected a reluctant acquiescence, and in the greatness of his relief he spoke again:-- "his return will not really trouble you or your wife, since miss eustace has forgotten him." durrance shook his head. "she has not forgotten him." "but she kept silence, even after willoughby had brought the feather back. you told me so this afternoon. she said not a word to you. she forbade willoughby to tell you." "she is very true, very loyal," returned durrance. "she has pledged herself to me, and nothing in the world, no promise of happiness, no thought of harry, would induce her to break her pledge. i know her. but i know too that she only plighted herself to me out of pity, because i was blind. i know that she has not forgotten harry." lieutenant sutch leaned back in his chair and smiled. he could have laughed outright. he asked for no details, he did not doubt durrance's words. he was overwhelmed with pride in that harry feversham, in spite of his disgrace and his long absence,--harry feversham, his favourite, had retained this girl's love. no doubt she was very true, very loyal. sutch endowed her on the instant with all the good qualities possible to a human being. the nobler she was, the greater was his pride that harry feversham still retained her heart. lieutenant sutch fairly revelled in this new knowledge. it was not to be wondered at after all, he thought; there was nothing astonishing in the girl's fidelity to any one who was really acquainted with harry feversham, it was only an occasion of great gladness. durrance would have to get out of the way, of course, but then he should never have crossed harry feversham's path. sutch was cruel with the perfect cruelty of which love alone is capable. "you are very glad of that," said durrance, quietly. "very glad that ethne has not forgotten him. it is a little hard on me, perhaps, who have not much left. it would have been less hard if two years ago you had told me the whole truth, when i asked it of you that summer evening in the courtyard of the club." compunction seized upon lieutenant sutch. the gentleness with which durrance had spoken, and the quiet accent of weariness in his voice, brought home to him something of the cruelty of his great joy and pride. after all, what durrance said was true. if he had broken his word that night at the club, if he had related feversham's story, durrance would have been spared a great deal. "i couldn't!" he exclaimed. "i promised harry in the most solemn way that i would tell no one until he came back himself. i was sorely tempted to tell you, but i had given my word. even if harry never came back, if i obtained sure knowledge that he was dead, even then i was only to tell his father, and even his father not all that could be told on his behalf." he pushed back his chair and went to the window. "it is hot in here," he said. "do you mind?" and without waiting for an answer he loosed the catch and raised the sash. for some little while he stood by the open window, silent, undecided. durrance plainly did not know of the fourth feather broken off from ethne's fan, he had not heard the conversation between himself and feversham in the grill-room of the criterion restaurant. there were certain words spoken by harry upon that occasion which it seemed fair durrance should now hear. compunction and pity bade sutch repeat them, his love of harry feversham enjoined him to hold his tongue. he could plead again that harry had forbidden him speech, but the plea would be an excuse and nothing more. he knew very well that were harry present, harry would repeat them, and lieutenant sutch knew what harm silence had already done. he mastered his love in the end and came back to the table. "there is something which it is fair you should know," he said. "when harry went away to redeem his honour, if the opportunity should come, he had no hope, indeed he had no wish, that miss eustace should wait for him. she was the spur to urge him, but she did not know even that. he did not wish her to know. he had no claim upon her. there was not even a hope in his mind that she might at some time be his friend--in this life, at all events. when he went away from ramelton, he parted from her, according to his thought, for all his mortal life. it is fair that you should know that. miss eustace, you tell me, is not the woman to withdraw from her pledged word. well, what i said to you that evening at the club i now repeat. there will be no disloyalty to friendship if you marry miss eustace." it was a difficult speech for lieutenant sutch to utter, and he was very glad when he had uttered it. whatever answer he received, it was right that the words should be spoken, and he knew that, had he refrained from speech, he would always have suffered remorse for his silence. none the less, however, he waited in suspense for the answer. "it is kind of you to tell me that," said durrance, and he smiled at the lieutenant with a great friendliness. "for i can guess what the words cost you. but you have done harry feversham no harm by speaking them. for, as i told you, ethne has not forgotten him; and i have my point of view. marriage between a man blind like myself and any woman, let alone ethne, could not be fair or right unless upon both sides there was more than friendship. harry must return to england. he must return to ethne, too. you must go to egypt and do what you can to bring him back." sutch was relieved of his suspense. he had obeyed his conscience and yet done harry feversham no disservice. "i will start to-morrow," he said. "harry is still in the soudan?" "of course." "why of course?" asked sutch. "willoughby withdrew his accusation; castleton is dead--he was killed at tamai; and trench--i know, for i have followed all these three men's careers--trench is a prisoner in omdurman." "so is harry feversham." sutch stared at his visitor. for a moment he did not understand, the shock had been too sudden and abrupt. then after comprehension dawned upon him, he refused to believe. the folly of that refusal in its turn became apparent. he sat down in his chair opposite to durrance, awed into silence. and the silence lasted for a long while. "what am i to do?" he said at length. "i have thought it out," returned durrance. "you must go to suakin. i will give you a letter to willoughby, who is deputy-governor, and another to a greek merchant there whom i know, and on whom you can draw for as much money as you require." "that's good of you, durrance, upon my word," sutch interrupted; and forgetting that he was talking to a blind man he held out his hand across the table. "i would not take a penny if i could help it; but i am a poor man. upon my soul it's good of you." "just listen to me, please," said durrance. he could not see the outstretched hand, but his voice showed that he would hardly have taken it if he had. he was striking the final blow at his chance of happiness. but he did not wish to be thanked for it. "at suakin you must take the greek merchant's advice and organise a rescue as best you can. it will be a long business, and you will have many disappointments before you succeed. but you must stick to it until you do." upon that the two men fell to a discussion of the details of the length of time which it would take for a message from suakin to be carried into omdurman, of the untrustworthiness of some arab spies, and of the risks which the trustworthy ran. sutch's house was searched for maps, the various routes by which the prisoners might escape were described by durrance--the great forty days' road from kordofan on the west, the straight track from omdurman to berber and from berber to suakin, and the desert journey across the belly of stones by the wells of murat to korosko. it was late before durrance had told all that he thought necessary and sutch had exhausted his questions. "you will stay at suakin as your base of operations," said durrance, as he closed up the maps. "yes," answered sutch, and he rose from his chair. "i will start as soon as you give me the letters." "i have them already written." "then i will start to-morrow. you may be sure i will let both you and miss eustace know how the attempt progresses." "let me know," said durrance, "but not a whisper of it to ethne. she knows nothing of my plan, and she must know nothing until feversham comes back himself. she has her point of view, as i have mine. two lives shall not be spoilt because of her. that's her resolve. she believes that to some degree she was herself the cause of harry feversham's disgrace--that but for her he would not have resigned his commission." "yes." "you agree with that? at all events she believes it. so there's one life spoilt because of her. suppose now i go to her and say: 'i know that you pretend out of your charity and kindness to care for me, but in your heart you are no more than my friend,' why, i hurt her, and cruelly. for there's all that's left of the second life spoilt too. but bring back feversham! then i can speak--then i can say freely: 'since you are just my friend, i would rather be your friend and nothing more. so neither life will be spoilt at all.'" "i understand," said sutch. "it's the way a man should speak. so till feversham comes back the pretence remains. she pretends to care for you, you pretend you do not know she thinks of harry. while i go eastwards to bring him home, you go back to her." "no," said durrance, "i can't go back. the strain of keeping up the pretence was telling too much on both of us. i go to wiesbaden. an oculist lives there who serves me for an excuse. i shall wait at wiesbaden until you bring harry home." sutch opened the door, and the two men went out into the hall. the servants had long since gone to bed. a couple of candlesticks stood upon a table beside a lamp. more than once lieutenant sutch had forgotten that his visitor was blind, and he forgot the fact again. he lighted both candles and held out one to his companion. durrance knew from the noise of sutch's movements what he was doing. "i have no need of a candle," he said with a smile. the light fell full upon his face, and sutch suddenly remarked how tired it looked and old. there were deep lines from the nostrils to the corners of the mouth, and furrows in the cheeks. his hair was grey as an old man's hair. durrance had himself made so little of his misfortune this evening that sutch had rather come to rate it as a small thing in the sum of human calamities, but he read his mistake now in durrance's face. just above the flame of the candle, framed in the darkness of the hall, it showed white and drawn and haggard--the face of an old worn man set upon the stalwart shoulders of a man in the prime of his years. "i have said very little to you in the way of sympathy," said sutch. "i did not know that you would welcome it. but i am sorry. i am very sorry." "thanks," said durrance, simply. he stood for a moment or two silently in front of his host. "when i was in the soudan, travelling through the deserts, i used to pass the white skeletons of camels lying by the side of the track. do you know the camel's way? he is an unfriendly, graceless beast, but he marches to within an hour of his death. he drops and dies with the load upon his back. it seemed to me, even in those days, the right and enviable way to finish. you can imagine how i must envy them that advantage of theirs now. good night." he felt for the bannister and walked up the stairs to his room. chapter xxvi general feversham's portraits are appeased lieutenant sutch, though he went late to bed, was early astir in the morning. he roused the household, packed and repacked his clothes, and made such a bustle and confusion that everything to be done took twice its ordinary time in the doing. there never had been so much noise and flurry in the house during all the thirty years of lieutenant sutch's residence. his servants could not satisfy him, however quickly they scuttled about the passages in search of this or that forgotten article of his old travelling outfit. sutch, indeed, was in a boyish fever of excitement. it was not to be wondered at, perhaps. for thirty years he had lived inactive--on the world's half-pay list, to quote his own phrase; and at the end of all that long time, miraculously, something had fallen to him to do--something important, something which needed energy and tact and decision. lieutenant sutch, in a word, was to be employed again. he was feverish to begin his employment. he dreaded the short interval before he could begin, lest some hindrance should unexpectedly occur and relegate him again to inactivity. "i shall be ready this afternoon," he said briskly to durrance as they breakfasted. "i shall catch the night mail to the continent. we might go up to london together; for london is on your way to wiesbaden." "no," said durrance, "i have just one more visit to pay in england. i did not think of it until i was in bed last night. you put it into my head." "oh," observed sutch, "and whom do you propose to visit?" "general feversham," replied durrance. sutch laid down his knife and fork and looked with surprise at his companion. "why in the world do you wish to see him?" he asked. "i want to tell him how harry has redeemed his honour, how he is still redeeming it. you said last night that you were bound by a promise not to tell him anything of his son's intention, or even of his son's success until the son returned himself. but i am bound by no promise. i think such a promise bears hardly on the general. there is nothing in the world which could pain him so much as the proof that his son was a coward. harry might have robbed and murdered. the old man would have preferred him to have committed both these crimes. i shall cross into surrey this morning and tell him that harry never was a coward." sutch shook his head. "he will not be able to understand. he will be very grateful to you, of course. he will be very glad that harry has atoned his disgrace, but he will never understand why he incurred it. and, after all, he will only be glad because the family honour is restored." "i don't agree," said durrance. "i believe the old man is rather fond of his son, though to be sure he would never admit it. i rather like general feversham." lieutenant sutch had seen very little of general feversham during the last five years. he could not forgive him for his share in the responsibility of harry feversham's ruin. had the general been capable of sympathy with and comprehension of the boy's nature, the white feathers would never have been sent to ramelton. sutch pictured the old man sitting sternly on his terrace at broad place, quite unaware that he was himself at all to blame, and on the contrary, rather inclined to pose as a martyr, in that his son had turned out a shame and disgrace to all the dead fevershams whose portraits hung darkly on the high walls of the hall. sutch felt that he could never endure to talk patiently with general feversham, and he was sure that no argument would turn that stubborn man from his convictions. he had not troubled at all to consider whether the news which durrance had brought should be handed on to broad place. "you are very thoughtful for others," he said to durrance. "it's not to my credit. i practise thoughtfulness for others out of an instinct of self-preservation, that's all," said durrance. "selfishness is the natural and encroaching fault of the blind. i know that, so i am careful to guard against it." he travelled accordingly that morning by branch lines from hampshire into surrey, and came to broad place in the glow of the afternoon. general feversham was now within a few months of his eightieth year, and though his back was as stiff and his figure as erect as on that night now so many years ago when he first presented harry to his crimean friends, he was shrunken in stature, and his face seemed to have grown small. durrance had walked with the general upon his terrace only two years ago, and blind though he was, he noticed a change within this interval of time. old feversham walked with a heavier step, and there had come a note of puerility into his voice. "you have joined the veterans before your time, durrance," he said. "i read of it in a newspaper. i would have written had i known where to write." if he had any suspicion of durrance's visit, he gave no sign of it. he rang the bell, and tea was brought into the great hall where the portraits hung. he asked after this and that officer in the soudan with whom he was acquainted, he discussed the iniquities of the war office, and feared that the country was going to the deuce. "everything through ill-luck or bad management is going to the devil, sir," he exclaimed irritably. "even you, durrance, you are not the same man who walked with me on my terrace two years ago." the general had never been remarkable for tact, and the solitary life he led had certainly brought no improvement. durrance could have countered with a _tu quoque_, but he refrained. "but i come upon the same business," he said. feversham sat up stiffly in his chair. "and i give you the same answer. i have nothing to say about harry feversham. i will not discuss him." he spoke in his usual hard and emotionless voice. he might have been speaking of a stranger. even the name was uttered without the slightest hint of sorrow. durrance began to wonder whether the fountains of affection had not been altogether dried up in general feversham's heart. "it would not please you, then, to know where harry feversham has been, and how he has lived during the last five years?" there was a pause--not a long pause, but still a pause--before general feversham answered:-- "not in the least, colonel durrance." the answer was uncompromising, but durrance relied upon the pause which preceded it. "nor on what business he has been engaged?" he continued. "i am not interested in the smallest degree. i do not wish him to starve, and my solicitor tells me that he draws his allowance. i am content with that knowledge, colonel durrance." "i will risk your anger, general," said durrance. "there are times when it is wise to disobey one's superior officer. this is one of the times. of course you can turn me out of the house. otherwise i shall relate to you the history of your son and my friend since he disappeared from england." general feversham laughed. "of course, i can't turn you out of the house," he said; and he added severely, "but i warn you that you are taking an improper advantage of your position as my guest." "yes, there is no doubt of that," durrance answered calmly; and he told his story--the recovery of the gordon letters from berber, his own meeting with harry feversham at wadi halfa, and harry's imprisonment at omdurman. he brought it down to that very day, for he ended with the news of lieutenant sutch's departure for suakin. general feversham heard the whole account without an interruption, without even stirring in his chair. durrance could not tell in what spirit he listened, but he drew some comfort from the fact that he did listen and without argument. for some while after durrance had finished, the general sat silent. he raised his hand to his forehead and shaded his eyes as though the man who had spoken could see, and thus he remained. even when he did speak, he did not take his hand away. pride forbade him to show to those portraits on the walls that he was capable even of so natural a weakness as joy at the reconquest of honour by his son. "what i don't understand," he said slowly, "is why harry ever resigned his commission. i could not understand it before; i understand it even less now since you have told me of his great bravery. it is one of the queer inexplicable things. they happen, and there's all that can be said. but i am very glad that you compelled me to listen to you, durrance." "i did it with a definite object. it is for you to say, of course, but for my part i do not see why harry should not come home and enter in again to all that he lost." "he cannot regain everything," said feversham. "it is not right that he should. he committed the sin, and he must pay. he cannot regain his career for one thing." "no, that is true; but he can find another. he is not yet so old but that he can find another. and that is all that he will have lost." general feversham now took his hand away and moved in his chair. he looked quickly at durrance; he opened his mouth to ask a question, but changed his mind. "well," he said briskly, and as though the matter were of no particular importance, "if sutch can manage harry's escape from omdurman, i see no reason, either, why he should not come home." durrance rose from his chair. "thank you, general. if you can have me driven to the station, i can catch a train to town. there's one at six." "but you will stay the night, surely," cried general feversham. "it is impossible. i start for wiesbaden early to-morrow." feversham rang the bell and gave the order for a carriage. "i should have been very glad if you could have stayed," he said, turning to durrance. "i see very few people nowadays. to tell the truth i have no great desire to see many. one grows old and a creature of customs." "but you have your crimean nights," said durrance, cheerfully. feversham shook his head. "there have been none since harry went away. i had no heart for them," he said slowly. for a second the mask was lifted and his stern features softened. he had suffered much during these five lonely years of his old age, though not one of his acquaintances up to this moment had ever detected a look upon his face or heard a sentence from his lips which could lead them so to think. he had shown a stubborn front to the world; he had made it a matter of pride that no one should be able to point a finger at him and say, "there's a man struck down." but on this one occasion and in these few words he revealed to durrance the depth of his grief. durrance understood how unendurable the chatter of his friends about the old days of war in the snowy trenches would have been. an anecdote recalling some particular act of courage would hurt as keenly as a story of cowardice. the whole history of his lonely life at broad place was laid bare in that simple statement that there had been no crimean nights for he had no heart for them. the wheels of the carriage rattled on the gravel. "good-bye," said durrance, and he held out his hand. "by the way," said feversham, "to organise this escape from omdurman will cost a great deal of money. sutch is a poor man. who is paying?" "i am." feversham shook durrance's hand in a firm clasp. "it is my right, of course," he said. "certainly. i will let you know what it costs." "thank you." general feversham accompanied his visitor to the door. there was a question which he had it in his mind to ask, but the question was delicate. he stood uneasily on the steps of the house. "didn't i hear, durrance," he said with an air of carelessness, "that you were engaged to miss eustace?" "i think i said that harry would regain all that he had lost except his career," said durrance. he stepped into the carriage and drove off to the station. his work was ended. there was nothing more for him now to do, except to wait at wiesbaden and pray that sutch might succeed. he had devised the plan, it remained for those who had eyes wherewith to see to execute it. general feversham stood upon the steps looking after the carriage until it disappeared among the pines. then he walked slowly back into the hall. "there is no reason why he should not come back," he said. he looked up at the pictures. the dead fevershams in their uniforms would not be disgraced. "no reason in the world," he said. "and, please god, he will come back soon." the dangers of an escape from the dervish city remote among the sands began to loom very large on his mind. he owned to himself that he felt very tired and old, and many times that night he repeated his prayer, "please god, harry will come back soon," as he sat erect upon the bench which had once been his wife's favourite seat, and gazed out across the moonlit country to the sussex downs. chapter xxvii the house of stone these were the days before the great mud wall was built about the house of stone in omdurman. only a thorn zareeba as yet enclosed that noisome prison and the space about it. it stood upon the eastern border of the town, surely the most squalid capital of any empire since the world began. not a flower bloomed in a single corner. there was no grass nor the green shade of any tree. a brown and stony plain, burnt by the sun, and, built upon it a straggling narrow city of hovels crawling with vermin and poisoned with disease. between the prison and the nile no houses stood, and at this time the prisoners were allowed, so long as daylight lasted, to stumble in their chains down the half-mile of broken sloping earth to the nile bank, so that they might draw water for their use and perform their ablutions. for the native or the negro, then, escape was not so difficult. for along that bank the dhows were moored and they were numerous; the river traffic, such as there was of it, had its harbour there, and the wide foreshore made a convenient market-place. thus the open space between the river and the house of stone was thronged and clamorous all day, captives rubbed elbows with their friends, concerted plans of escape, or then and there slipped into the thickest of the crowd and made their way to the first blacksmith, with whom the price of iron outweighed any risk he took. but even on their way to the blacksmith's shop, their fetters called for no notice in omdurman. slaves wore them as a daily habit, and hardly a street in all that long brown treeless squalid city was ever free from the clink of a man who walked in chains. but for the european escape was another matter. there were not so many white prisoners but that each was a marked man. besides relays of camels stationed through the desert, much money, long preparations, and above all, devoted natives who would risk their lives, were the first necessities for their evasion. the camels might be procured and stationed, but it did not follow that their drivers would remain at the stations; the long preparations might be made and the whip of the gaoler overset them at the end by flogging the captive within an inch of his life, on a suspicion that he had money; the devoted servant might shrink at the last moment. colonel trench began to lose all hope. his friends were working for him, he knew. for at times the boy who brought his food into the prison would bid him be ready; at times, too, when at some parade of the khalifa's troops he was shown in triumph as an emblem of the destiny of all the turks, a man perhaps would jostle against his camel and whisper encouragements. but nothing ever came of the encouragements. he saw the sun rise daily beyond the bend of the river behind the tall palm trees of khartum and burn across the sky, and the months dragged one after the other. on an evening towards the end of august, in that year when durrance came home blind from the soudan, he sat in a corner of the enclosure watching the sun drop westwards towards the plain with an agony of anticipation. for however intolerable the heat and burden of the day, it was as nothing compared with the horrors which each night renewed. the moment of twilight came and with it idris es saier, the great negro of the gawaamah tribe, and his fellow-gaolers. "into the house of stone!" he cried. praying and cursing, with the sound of the pitiless whips falling perpetually upon the backs of the hindmost, the prisoners jostled and struggled at the narrow entrance to the prison house. already it was occupied by some thirty captives, lying upon the swamped mud floor or supported against the wall in the last extremities of weakness and disease. two hundred more were driven in at night and penned there till morning. the room was perhaps thirty feet square, of which four feet were occupied by a solid pillar supporting the roof. there was no window in the building; a few small apertures near the roof made a pretence of giving air, and into this foul and pestilent hovel the prisoners were packed, screaming and fighting. the door was closed upon them, utter darkness replaced the twilight, so that a man could not distinguish even the outlines of the heads of the neighbours who wedged him in. colonel trench fought like the rest. there was a corner near the door which he coveted at that moment with a greater fierceness of desire than he had ever felt in the days when he had been free. once in that corner, he would have some shelter from the blows, the stamping feet, the bruises of his neighbour's shackles; he would have, too, a support against which to lean his back during the ten interminable hours of suffocation. "if i were to fall! if i were to fall!" that fear was always with him when he was driven in at night. it worked in him like a drug producing madness. for if a man once went down amid that yelling, struggling throng, he never got up again--he was trampled out of shape. trench had seen such victims dragged from the prison each morning; and he was a small man. therefore he fought for his corner in a frenzy like a wild beast, kicking with his fetters, thrusting with his elbows, diving under this big man's arm, burrowing between two others, tearing at their clothes, using his nails, his fists, and even striking at heads with the chain which dangled from the iron ring about his neck. he reached the corner in the end, streaming with heat and gasping for breath; the rest of the night he would spend in holding it against all comers. "if i were to fall!" he gasped. "o god, if i were to fall!" and he shouted aloud to his neighbour--for in that clamour nothing less than a shout was audible--"is it you, ibrahim?" and a like shout answered him, "yes, effendi." trench felt some relief. between ibrahim, a great tall arab of the hadendoas, and trench, a friendship born of their common necessities had sprung up. there were no prison rations at omdurman; each captive was dependent upon his own money or the charity of his friends outside. to trench from time to time there came money from his friends, brought secretly into the prison by a native who had come up from assouan or suakin; but there were long periods during which no help came to him, and he lived upon the charity of the greeks who had sworn conversion to the mahdist faith, or starved with such patience as he could. there were times, too, when ibrahim had no friend to send him his meal into the prison. and thus each man helped the other in his need. they stood side by side against the wall at night. "yes, effendi, i am here," and groping with his hand in the black darkness, he steadied trench against the wall. a fight of even more than common violence was raging in an extreme corner of the prison, and so closely packed were the prisoners that with each advance of one combatant and retreat of the other, the whole jostled crowd swayed in a sort of rhythm, from end to end, from side to side. but they swayed, fighting to keep their feet, fighting even with their teeth, and above the din and noise of their hard breathing, the clank of their chains, and their imprecations, there rose now and then a wild sobbing cry for mercy, or an inhuman shriek, stifled as soon as uttered, which showed that a man had gone down beneath the stamping feet. missiles, too, were flung across the prison, even to the foul earth gathered from the floor, and since none knew from what quarter they were flung, heads were battered against heads in the effort to avoid them. and all these things happened in the blackest darkness. for two hours trench stood in that black prison ringing with noise, rank with heat, and there were eight hours to follow before the door would be opened and he could stumble into the clean air and fall asleep in the zareeba. he stood upon tiptoe that he might lift his head above his fellows, but even so he could barely breathe, and the air he breathed was moist and sour. his throat was parched, his tongue was swollen in his mouth and stringy like a dried fig. it seemed to him that the imagination of god could devise no worse hell than the house of stone on an august night in omdurman. it could add fire, he thought, but only fire. "if i were to fall!" he cried, and as he spoke his hell was made perfect, for the door was opened. idris es saier appeared in the opening. "make room," he cried, "make room," and he threw fire among the prisoners to drive them from the door. lighted tufts of dried grass blazed in the darkness and fell upon the bodies of the prisoners. the captives were so crowded they could not avoid the missiles; in places, even, they could not lift their hands to dislodge them from their shoulders or their heads. "make room," cried idris. the whips of his fellow-gaolers enforced his command, the lashes fell upon all within reach, and a little space was cleared within the door. into that space a man was flung and the door closed again. trench was standing close to the door; in the dim twilight which came through the doorway he had caught a glimpse of the new prisoner, a man heavily ironed, slight of figure, and bent with suffering. "he will fall," he said, "he will fall to-night. god! if i were to!" and suddenly the crowd swayed against him, and the curses rose louder and shriller than before. the new prisoner was the cause. he clung to the door with his face against the panels, through the chinks of which actual air might come. those behind plucked him from his vantage, jostled him, pressed him backwards that they might take his place. he was driven as a wedge is driven by a hammer, between this prisoner and that, until at last he was flung against colonel trench. the ordinary instincts of kindness could not live in the nightmare of that prison house. in the daytime, outside, the prisoners were often drawn together by their bond of a common misery; the faithful as often as not helped the infidel. but to fight for life during the hours of darkness without pity or cessation was the one creed and practice of the house of stone. colonel trench was like the rest. the need to live, if only long enough to drink one drop of water in the morning and draw one clean mouthful of fresh air, was more than uppermost in his mind. it was the only thought he had. "back!" he cried violently, "back, or i strike!"--and, as he wrestled to lift his arm above his head that he might strike the better, he heard the man who had been flung against him incoherently babbling english. "don't fall," cried trench, and he caught his fellow-captive by the arm. "ibrahim, help! god, if he were to fall!" and while the crowd swayed again and the shrill cries and curses rose again, deafening the ears, piercing the brain, trench supported his companion, and bending down his head caught again after so many months the accent of his own tongue. and the sound of it civilised him like the friendship of a woman. he could not hear what was said; the din was too loud. but he caught, as it were, shadows of words which had once been familiar to him, which had been spoken to him, which he had spoken to others--as a matter of course. in the house of stone they sounded most wonderful. they had a magic, too. meadows of grass, cool skies, and limpid rivers rose in grey quiet pictures before his mind. for a moment he was insensible to his parched throat, to the stench of that prison house, to the oppressive blackness. but he felt the man whom he supported totter and slip, and again he cried to ibrahim:-- "if he were to fall!" ibrahim helped as only he could. together they fought and wrestled until those about them yielded, crying:-- "shaitan! they are mad!" they cleared a space in that corner and, setting the englishman down upon the ground, they stood in front of him lest he should be trampled. and behind him upon the ground trench heard every now and then in a lull of the noise the babble of english. "he will die before morning," he cried to ibrahim, "he is in a fever!" "sit beside him," said the hadendoa. "i can keep them back." trench stooped and squatted in the corner, ibrahim set his legs well apart and guarded trench and his new friend. bending his head, trench could now hear the words. they were the words of a man in delirium, spoken in a voice of great pleading. he was telling some tale of the sea, it seemed. "i saw the riding lights of the yachts--and the reflections shortening and lengthening as the water rippled--there was a band, too, as we passed the pier-head. what was it playing? not the overture--and i don't think that i remember any other tune...." and he laughed with a crazy chuckle. "i was always pretty bad at appreciating music, wasn't i? except when you played," and again he came back to the sea. "there was the line of hills upon the right as the boat steamed out of the bay--you remember there were woods on the hillside--perhaps you have forgotten. then came bray, a little fairyland of lights close down by the water at the point of the ridge ... you remember bray, we lunched there once or twice, just you and i, before everything was settled ... it seemed strange to be steaming out of dublin bay and leaving you a long way off to the north among the hills ... strange and somehow not quite right ... for that was the word you used when the morning came behind the blinds--it is not right that one should suffer so much pain ... the engines didn't stop, though, they just kept throbbing and revolving and clanking as though nothing had happened whatever ... one felt a little angry about that ... the fairyland was already only a sort of golden blot behind ... and then nothing but sea and the salt wind ... and the things to be done." the man in his delirium suddenly lifted himself upon an elbow, and with the other hand fumbled in his breast as though he searched for something. "yes, the things to be done," he repeated in a mumbling voice, and he sank to unintelligible whisperings, with his head fallen upon his breast. trench put an arm about him and raised him up. but he could do nothing more, and even to him, crouched as he was close to the ground, the noisome heat was almost beyond endurance. in front, the din of shrill voices, the screams for pity, the swaying and struggling, went on in that appalling darkness. in one corner there were men singing in a mad frenzy, in another a few danced in their fetters, or rather tried to dance; in front of trench ibrahim maintained his guard; and beside trench there lay in the house of stone, in the town beyond the world, a man who one night had sailed out of dublin bay, past the riding lanterns of the yachts, and had seen bray, that fairyland of lights, dwindle to a golden blot. to think of the sea and the salt wind, the sparkle of light as the water split at the ship's bows, the illuminated deck, perhaps the sound of a bell telling the hour, and the cool dim night about and above, so wrought upon trench that, practical unimaginative creature as he was, for very yearning he could have wept. but the stranger at his side began to speak again. "it is funny that those three faces were always the same ... the man in the tent with the lancet in his hand, and the man in the back room off piccadilly ... and mine. funny and not quite right. no, i don't think that was quite right either. they get quite big, too, just when you are going to sleep in the dark--quite big, and they come very close to you and won't go away ... they rather frighten one...." and he suddenly clung to trench with a close, nervous grip, like a boy in an extremity of fear. and it was in the tone of reassurance that a man might use to a boy that trench replied, "it's all right, old man, it's all right." but trench's companion was already relieved of his fear. he had come out of his boyhood, and was rehearsing some interview which was to take place in the future. "will you take it back?" he asked, with a great deal of hesitation and timidity. "really? the others have, all except the man who died at tamai. and you will too!" he spoke as though he could hardly believe some piece of great good fortune which had befallen him. then his voice changed to that of a man belittling his misfortunes. "oh, it hasn't been the best of times, of course. but then one didn't expect the best of times. and at the worst, one had always the afterwards to look forward to ... supposing one didn't run.... i'm not sure that when the whole thing's balanced, it won't come out that you have really had the worst time. i know you ... it would hurt you through and through, pride and heart and everything, and for a long time just as much as it hurt that morning when the daylight came through the blinds. and you couldn't do anything! and you hadn't the afterwards to help you--you weren't looking forward to it all the time as i was ... it was all over and done with for you ..." and he lapsed again into mutterings. colonel trench's delight in the sound of his native tongue had now given place to a great curiosity as to the man who spoke and what he said. trench had described himself a long while ago as he stood opposite the cab-stand in the southwest corner of st. james's square: "i am an inquisitive, methodical person," he had said, and he had not described himself amiss. here was a life history, it seemed, being unfolded to his ears, and not the happiest of histories, perhaps, indeed, with something of tragedy at the heart of it. trench began to speculate upon the meaning of that word "afterwards," which came and went among the words like the _motif_ in a piece of music and very likely was the life _motif_ of the man who spoke them. in the prison the heat became stifling, the darkness more oppressive, but the cries and shouts were dying down; their volume was less great, their intonation less shrill; stupor and fatigue and exhaustion were having their effect. trench bent his head again to his companion and now heard more clearly. "i saw your light that morning ... you put it out suddenly ... did you hear my step on the gravel?... i thought you did, it hurt rather," and then he broke out into an emphatic protest. "no, no, i had no idea that you would wait. i had no wish that you should. afterwards, perhaps, i thought, but nothing more, upon my word. sutch was quite wrong.... of course there was always the chance that one might come to grief oneself--get killed, you know, or fall ill and die--before one asked you to take your feather back; and then there wouldn't even have been a chance of the afterwards. but that is the risk one had to take." the allusion was not direct enough for colonel trench's comprehension. he heard the word "feather," but he could not connect it as yet with any action of his own. he was more curious than ever about that "afterwards"; he began to have a glimmering of its meaning, and he was struck with wonderment at the thought of how many men there were going about the world with a calm and commonplace demeanour beneath which were hidden quaint fancies and poetic beliefs, never to be so much as suspected, until illness deprived the brain of its control. "no, one of the reasons why i never said anything that night to you about what i intended was, i think, that i did not wish you to wait or have any suspicion of what i was going to attempt." and then expostulation ceased, and he began to speak in a tone of interest. "do you know, it has only occurred to me since i came to the soudan, but i believe that durrance cared." the name came with something of a shock upon trench's ears. this man knew durrance! he was not merely a stranger of trench's blood, but he knew durrance even as trench knew him. there was a link between them, they had a friend in common. he knew durrance, had fought in the same square with him, perhaps, at tokar, or tamai, or tamanieb, just as trench had done! and so trench's curiosity as to the life history in its turn gave place to a curiosity as to the identity of the man. he tried to see, knowing that in that black and noisome hovel sight was impossible. he might hear, though, enough to be assured. for if the stranger knew durrance, it might be that he knew trench as well. trench listened; the sound of the voice, high pitched and rambling, told him nothing. he waited for the words, and the words came. "durrance stood at the window, after i had told them about you, ethne," and trench repeated the name to himself. it was to a woman, then, that his new-found compatriot, this friend of durrance, in his delirium imagined himself to be speaking--a woman named ethne. trench could recall no such name; but the voice in the dark went on. "all the time when i was proposing to send in my papers, after the telegram had come, he stood at the window of my rooms with his back to me, looking out across the park. i fancied he blamed me. but i think now he was making up his mind to lose you.... i wonder." trench uttered so startled an exclamation that ibrahim turned round. "is he dead?" "no, he lives, he lives." it was impossible, trench argued. he remembered quite clearly durrance standing by a window with his back to the room. he remembered a telegram coming which took a long while in the reading--which diffused among all except durrance an inexplicable suspense. he remembered, too, a man who spoke of his betrothal and of sending in his papers. but surely this could not be the man. was the woman's name ethne? a woman of donegal--yes; and this man had spoken of sailing out of dublin bay--he had spoken, too, of a feather. "good god!" whispered trench. "was the name ethne? was it? was it?" but for a while he received no answer. he heard only talk of a mud-walled city, and an intolerable sun burning upon a wide round of desert, and a man who lay there all the day with his linen robe drawn over his head, and slowly drew one face towards him across three thousand miles, until at sunset it was near, and he took courage and went down into the gate. and after that, four words stabbed trench. "three little white feathers," were the words. trench leaned back against the wall. it was he who had devised that message. "three little white feathers," the voice repeated. "this afternoon we were under the elms down by the lennon river--do you remember, harry?--just you and i. and then came three little white feathers; and the world's at an end." trench had no longer any doubts. the man was quoting words, and words, no doubt, spoken by this girl ethne on the night when the three feathers came. "harry," she had said. "do you remember, harry?" trench was certain. "feversham!" he cried. "feversham!" and he shook the man whom he held in his arms and called to him again. "under the elms by the lennon river--" visions of green shade touched with gold, and of the sunlight flickering between the leaves, caught at trench and drew him like a mirage in that desert of which feversham had spoken. feversham had been under the elms of the lennon river on that afternoon before the feathers came, and he was in the house of stone at omdurman. but why? trench asked himself the question and was not spared the answer. "willoughby took his feather back"--and upon that feversham broke off. his voice rambled. he seemed to be running somewhere amid sandhills which continually shifted and danced about him as he ran, so that he could not tell which way he went. he was in the last stage of fatigue, too, so that his voice in his delirium became querulous and weak. "abou fatma!" he cried, and the cry was the cry of a man whose throat is parched, and whose limbs fail beneath him. "abou fatma! abou fatma!" he stumbled as he ran, picked himself up, ran and stumbled again; and about him the deep soft sand piled itself into pyramids, built itself into long slopes and ridges, and levelled itself flat with an extraordinary and a malicious rapidity. "abou fatma!" cried feversham, and he began to argue in a weak obstinate voice. "i know the wells are here--close by--within half a mile. i know they are--i know they are." the clue to that speech trench had not got. he knew nothing of feversham's adventure at berber; he could not tell that the wells were the wells of obak, or that feversham, tired with the hurry of his travelling, and after a long day's march without water, had lost his way among the shifting sandhills. but he did know that willoughby had taken back his feather, and he made a guess as to the motive which had brought feversham now to the house of stone. even on that point, however, he was not to remain in doubt; for in a while he heard his own name upon feversham's lips. remorse seized upon colonel trench. the sending of the feathers had been his invention and his alone. he could not thrust the responsibility of his invention upon either willoughby or castleton; it was just his doing. he had thought it rather a shrewd and clever stroke, he remembered at the time--a vengeance eminently just. eminently just, no doubt, it was, but he had not thought of the woman. he had not imagined that she might be present when the feathers came. he had indeed almost forgotten the episode, he had never speculated upon the consequences, and now they rose up and smote the smiter. and his remorse was to grow. for the night was not nearly at its end. all through the dark slow hours he supported feversham and heard him talk. now feversham was lurking in the bazaar at suakin and during the siege. "during the siege," thought trench. "while we were there, then, he was herding with the camel-drivers in the bazaar learning their tongues, watching for his chance. three years of it!" at another moment feversham was slinking up the nile to wadi halfa with a zither, in the company of some itinerant musicians, hiding from any who might remember him and accuse him with his name. trench heard of a man slipping out from wadi halfa, crossing the nile and wandering with the assumed manner of a lunatic southwards, starving and waterless, until one day he was snapped up by a mahdist caravan and dragged to dongola as a spy. and at dongola things had happened of which the mere mention made trench shake. he heard of leather cords which had been bound about the prisoner's wrists, and upon which water had been poured until the cords swelled and the wrists burst, but this was among the minor brutalities. trench waited for the morning as he listened, wondering whether indeed it would ever come. he heard the bolts dragged back at the last; he saw the door open and the good daylight. he stood up and with ibrahim's help protected this new comrade until the eager rush was past. then he supported him out into the zareeba. worn, wasted in body and face, with a rough beard straggled upon his chin, and his eyes all sunk and very bright, it was still harry feversham. trench laid him down in a corner of the zareeba where there would be shade; and in a few hours shade would be needed. then with the rest he scrambled to the nile for water and brought it back. as he poured it down feversham's throat, feversham seemed for a moment to recognise him. but it was only for a moment, and the incoherent tale of his adventures began again. thus, after five years, and for the first time since trench had dined as feversham's guest in the high rooms overlooking st. james's park, the two men met in the house of stone. chapter xxviii plans of escape for three days feversham rambled and wandered in his talk, and for three days trench fetched him water from the nile, shared his food with him, and ministered to his wants; for three nights, too, he stood with ibrahim and fought in front of feversham in the house of stone. but on the fourth morning feversham waked to his senses and, looking up, with his own eyes saw bending over him the face of trench. at first the face seemed part of his delirium. it was one of those nightmare faces which had used to grow big and had come so horribly close to him in the dark nights of his boyhood as he lay in bed. he put out a weak arm and thrust it aside. but he gazed about him. he was lying in the shadow of the prison house, and the hard blue sky above him, the brown bare trampled soil on which he lay, and the figures of his fellow-prisoners dragging their chains or lying prone upon the ground in some extremity of sickness gradually conveyed their meaning to him. he turned to trench, caught at him as if he feared the next moment would snatch him out of reach, and then he smiled. "i am in the prison at omdurman," he said, "actually in the prison! this is umm hagar, the house of stone. it seems too good to be true." he leaned back against the wall with an air of extreme relief. to trench the words, the tone of satisfaction in which they were uttered, sounded like some sardonic piece of irony. a man who plumed himself upon indifference to pain and pleasure--who posed as a being of so much experience that joy and trouble could no longer stir a pulse or cause a frown, and who carried his pose to perfection--such a man, thought trench, might have uttered feversham's words in feversham's voice. but feversham was not that man; his delirium had proved it. the satisfaction, then, was genuine, the words sincere. the peril of dongola was past, he had found trench, he was in omdurman. that prison house was his longed-for goal, and he had reached it. he might have been dangling on a gibbet hundreds of miles away down the stream of the nile with the vultures perched upon his shoulders, the purpose for which he lived quite unfulfilled. but he was in the enclosure of the house of stone in omdurman. "you have been here a long while," he said. "three years." feversham looked round the zareeba. "three years of it," he murmured. "i was afraid that i might not find you alive." trench nodded. "the nights are the worst, the nights in there. it's a wonder any man lives through a week of them, yet i have lived through a thousand nights." and even to him who had endured them his endurance seemed incredible. "a thousand nights of the house of stone!" he exclaimed. "but we may go down to the nile by daytime," said feversham, and he started up with alarm as he gazed at the thorn zareeba. "surely we are allowed so much liberty. i was told so. an arab at wadi halfa told me." "and it's true," returned trench. "look!" he pointed to the earthen bowl of water at his side. "i filled that at the nile this morning." "i must go," said feversham, and he lifted himself up from the ground. "i must go this morning," and since he spoke with a raised voice and a manner of excitement, trench whispered to him:-- "hush. there are many prisoners here, and among them many tale-bearers." feversham sank back on to the ground as much from weakness as in obedience to trench's warning. "but they cannot understand what we say," he objected in a voice from which the excitement had suddenly gone. "they can see that we talk together and earnestly. idris would know of it within the hour, the khalifa before sunset. there would be heavier fetters and the courbatch if we spoke at all. lie still. you are weak, and i too am very tired. we will sleep, and later in the day we will go together down to the nile." trench lay down beside feversham and in a moment was asleep. feversham watched him, and saw, now that his features were relaxed, the marks of those three years very plainly in his face. it was towards noon before he awoke. "there is no one to bring you food?" he asked, and feversham answered:-- "yes. a boy should come. he should bring news as well." they waited until the gate of the zareeba was opened and the friends or wives of the prisoners entered. at once that enclosure became a cage of wild beasts. the gaolers took their dole at the outset. little more of the "aseeda"--that moist and pounded cake of dhurra which was the staple diet of the town--than was sufficient to support life was allowed to reach the prisoners, and even for that the strong fought with the weak, and the group of four did battle with the group of three. from every corner men gaunt and thin as skeletons hopped and leaped as quickly as the weight of their chains would allow them towards the entrance. here one weak with starvation tripped and fell, and once fallen lay prone in a stolid despair, knowing that for him there would be no meal that day. others seized upon the messengers who brought the food, and tore it from their hands, though the whips of the gaolers laid their backs open. there were thirty gaolers to guard that enclosure, each armed with his rhinoceros-hide courbatch, but this was the one moment in each day when the courbatch was neither feared, nor, as it seemed, felt. among the food-bearers a boy sheltered himself behind the rest and gazed irresolutely about the zareeba. it was not long, however, before he was detected. he was knocked down, and his food snatched from his hands; but the boy had his lungs, and his screams brought idris-es-saier himself upon the three men who had attacked him. "for whom do you come?" asked idris, as he thrust the prisoners aside. "for joseppi, the greek," answered the boy, and idris pointed to the corner where feversham lay. the boy advanced, holding out his empty hands as though explaining how it was that he brought no food. but he came quite close, and squatting at feversham's side continued to explain with words. and as he spoke he loosed a gazelle skin which was fastened about his waist beneath his jibbeh, and he let it fall by feversham's side. the gazelle skin contained a chicken, and upon that feversham and trench breakfasted and dined and supped. an hour later they were allowed to pass out of the zareeba and make their way to the nile. they walked slowly and with many halts, and during one of these trench said:-- "we can talk here." below them, at the water's edge, some of the prisoners were unloading dhows, others were paddling knee-deep in the muddy water. the shore was crowded with men screaming and shouting and excited for no reason whatever. the gaolers were within view, but not within ear-shot. "yes, we can talk here. why have you come?" "i was captured in the desert, on the arbain road," said feversham, slowly. "yes, masquerading as a lunatic musician who had wandered out of wadi halfa with a zither. i know. but you were captured by your own deliberate wish. you came to join me in omdurman. i know." "how do you know?" "you told me. during the last three days you have told me much," and feversham looked about him suddenly in alarm, "very much," continued trench. "you came to join me because five years ago i sent you a white feather." "and was that all i told you?" asked feversham, anxiously. "no," trench replied, and he dragged out the word. he sat up while feversham lay on his side, and he looked towards the nile in front of him, holding his head between his hands, so that he could not see or be seen by feversham. "no, that was not all--you spoke of a girl, the same girl of whom you spoke when willoughby and durrance and i dined with you in london a long while ago. i know her name now--her christian name. she was with you when the feathers came. i had not thought of that possibility. she gave you a fourth feather to add to our three. i am sorry." there was a silence of some length, and then feversham replied slowly:-- "for my part i am not sorry. i mean i am not sorry that she was present when the feathers came. i think, on the whole, that i am rather glad. she gave me the fourth feather, it is true, but i am glad of that as well. for without her presence, without that fourth feather snapped from her fan, i might have given up there and then. who knows? i doubt if i could have stood up to the three long years in suakin. i used to see you and durrance and willoughby and many men who had once been my friends, and you were all going about the work which i was used to. you can't think how the mere routine of a regiment to which one had become accustomed, and which one cursed heartily enough when one had to put up with it, appealed as something very desirable. i could so easily have run away. i could so easily have slipped on to a boat and gone back to suez. and the chance for which i waited never came--for three years." "you saw us?" said trench. "and you gave no sign?" "how would you have taken it if i had?" and trench was silent. "no, i saw you, but i was careful that you should not see me. i doubt if i could have endured it without the recollection of that night at ramelton, without the feel of the fourth feather to keep the recollection actual and recent in my thoughts. i should never have gone down from obak into berber. i should certainly never have joined you in omdurman." trench turned quickly towards his companion. "she would be glad to hear you say that," he said. "i have no doubt she is sorry about her fourth feather, sorry as i am about the other three." "there is no reason that she should be, or that you either should be sorry. i don't blame you, or her," and in his turn feversham was silent and looked towards the river. the air was shrill with cries, the shore was thronged with a motley of arabs and negroes, dressed in their long robes of blue and yellow and dirty brown; the work of unloading the dhows went busily on; across the river and beyond its fork the palm trees of khartum stood up against the cloudless sky; and the sun behind them was moving down to the west. in a few hours would come the horrors of the house of stone. but they were both thinking of the elms by the lennon river and a hall of which the door stood open to the cool night and which echoed softly to the music of a waltz, while a girl and a man stood with three white feathers fallen upon the floor between them; the one man recollected, the other imagined, the picture, and to both of them it was equally vivid. feversham smiled at last. "perhaps she has now seen willoughby; perhaps she has now taken his feather." trench held out his hand to his companion. "i will take mine back now." feversham shook his head. "no, not yet," and trench's face suddenly lighted up. a hope which had struggled up in his hopeless breast during the three days and nights of his watch, a hope which he had striven to repress for very fear lest it might prove false, sprang to life. "not yet,--then you _have_ a plan for our escape," and the anxiety returned to feversham's face. "i said nothing of it," he pleaded, "tell me that! when i was delirious in the prison there, i said nothing of it, i breathed no word of it? i told you of the four feathers, i told you of ethne, but of the plan for your escape i said nothing." "not a single word. so that i myself was in doubt, and did not dare to believe," and feversham's anxiety died away. he had spoken with his hand trembling upon trench's arm, and his voice itself had trembled with alarm. "you see if i spoke of that in the house of stone," he exclaimed, "i might have spoken of it in dongola. for in dongola as well as in omdurman i was delirious. but i didn't, you say--not here, at all events. so perhaps not there either. i was afraid that i should--how i was afraid! there was a woman in dongola who spoke some english--very little, but enough. she had been in the 'kauneesa' of khartum when gordon ruled there. she was sent to question me. i had unhappy times in dongola." trench interrupted him in a low voice. "i know. you told me things which made me shiver," and he caught hold of feversham's arm and thrust the loose sleeve back. feversham's scarred wrists confirmed the tale. "well, i felt myself getting light-headed there," he went on. "i made up my mind that of your escape i must let no hint slip. so i tried to think of something else with all my might, when i was going off my head." and he laughed a little to himself. "that was why you heard me talk of ethne," he explained. trench sat nursing his knees and looking straight in front of him. he had paid no heed to feversham's last words. he had dared now to give his hopes their way. "so it's true," he said in a quiet wondering voice. "there will be a morning when we shall not drag ourselves out of the house of stone. there will be nights when we shall sleep in beds, actually in beds. there will be--" he stopped with a sort of shy air like a man upon the brink of a confession. "there will be--something more," he said lamely, and then he got up on to his feet. "we have sat here too long. let us go forward." they moved a hundred yards nearer to the river and sat down again. "you have more than a hope. you have a plan of escape?" trench asked eagerly. "more than a plan," returned feversham. "the preparations are made. there are camels waiting in the desert ten miles west of omdurman." "now?" exclaimed trench. "now?" "yes, man, now. there are rifles and ammunition buried near the camels, provisions and water kept in readiness. we travel by metemneh, where fresh camels wait, from metemneh to berber. there we cross the nile; camels are waiting for us five miles from berber. from berber we ride in over the kokreb pass to suakin." "when?" exclaimed trench. "oh, when, when?" "when i have strength enough to sit a horse for ten miles, and a camel for a week," answered feversham. "how soon will that be? not long, trench, i promise you not long," and he rose up from the ground. "as you get up," he continued, "glance round. you will see a man in a blue linen dress, loitering between us and the gaol. as we came past him, he made me a sign. i did not return it. i shall return it on the day when we escape." "he will wait?" "for a month. we must manage on one night during that month to escape from the house of stone. we can signal him to bring help. a passage might be made in one night through that wall; the stones are loosely built." they walked a little farther and came to the water's edge. there amid the crowd they spoke again of their escape, but with the air of men amused at what went on about them. "there is a better way than breaking through the wall," said trench, and he uttered a laugh as he spoke and pointed to a prisoner with a great load upon his back who had fallen upon his face in the water, and encumbered by his fetters, pressed down by his load, was vainly struggling to lift himself again. "there is a better way. you have money?" "ai, ai!" shouted feversham, roaring with laughter, as the prisoner half rose and soused again. "i have some concealed on me. idris took what i did not conceal." "good!" said trench. "idris will come to you to-day or to-morrow. he will talk to you of the goodness of allah who has brought you out of the wickedness of the world to the holy city of omdurman. he will tell you at great length of the peril of your soul and of the only means of averting it, and he will wind up with a few significant sentences about his starving family. if you come to the aid of his starving family and bid him keep for himself fifteen dollars out of the amount he took from you, you may get permission to sleep in the zareeba outside the prison. be content with that for a night or two. then he will come to you again, and again you will assist his starving family, and this time you will ask for permission for me to sleep in the open too. come! there's idris shepherding us home." it fell out as trench had predicted. idris read feversham an abnormally long lecture that afternoon. feversham learned that now god loved him; and how hicks pasha's army had been destroyed. the holy angels had done that, not a single shot was fired, not a single spear thrown by the mahdi's soldiers. the spears flew from their hands by the angels' guidance and pierced the unbelievers. feversham heard for the first time of a most convenient spirit, nebbi khiddr, who was the khalifa's eyes and ears and reported to him all that went on in the gaol. it was pointed out to feversham that if nebbi khiddr reported against him, he would have heavier shackles riveted upon his feet, and many unpleasant things would happen. at last came the exordium about the starving children, and feversham begged idris to take fifteen dollars. trench's plan succeeded. that night feversham slept in the open, and two nights later trench lay down beside him. overhead was a clear sky and the blazing stars. "only three more days," said feversham, and he heard his companion draw in a long breath. for a while they lay side by side in silence, breathing the cool night air, and then trench said:-- "are you awake?" "yes." "well," and with some hesitation he made that confidence which he had repressed on the day when they sat upon the foreshore of the nile. "each man has his particular weak spot of sentiment, i suppose. i have mine. i am not a marrying man, so it's not sentiment of that kind. perhaps you will laugh at it. it isn't merely that i loathe this squalid, shadeless, vile town of omdurman, or the horrors of its prison. it isn't merely that i hate the emptiness of those desert wastes. it isn't merely that i am sick of the palm trees of khartum, or these chains or the whips of the gaolers. but there's something more. i want to die at home, and i have been desperately afraid so often that i should die here. i want to die at home--not merely in my own country, but in my own village, and be buried there under the trees i know, in the sight of the church and the houses i know, and the trout stream where i fished when i was a boy. you'll laugh, no doubt." feversham was not laughing. the words had a queer ring of familiarity to him, and he knew why. they never had actually been spoken to him, but they might have been and by ethne eustace. "no, i am not laughing," he answered. "i understand." and he spoke with a warmth of tone which rather surprised trench. and indeed an actual friendship sprang up between the two men, and it dated from that night. it was a fit moment for confidences. lying side by side in that enclosure, they made them one to the other in low voices. the shouts and yells came muffled from within the house of stone, and gave to them both a feeling that they were well off. they could breathe; they could see; no low roof oppressed them; they were in the cool of the night air. that night air would be very cold before morning and wake them to shiver in their rags and huddle together in their corner. but at present they lay comfortably upon their backs with their hands clasped behind their heads and watched the great stars and planets burn in the blue dome of sky. "it will be strange to find them dim and small again," said trench. "there will be compensations," answered feversham, with a laugh; and they fell to making plans of what they would do when they had crossed the desert and the mediterranean and the continent of europe, and had come to their own country of dim small stars. fascinated and enthralled by the pictures which the simplest sentence, the most commonplace phrase, through the magic of its associations was able to evoke in their minds, they let the hours slip by unnoticed. they were no longer prisoners in that barbarous town which lay a murky stain upon the solitary wide spaces of sand; they were in their own land, following their old pursuits. they were standing outside clumps of trees, guns in their hands, while the sharp cry, "mark! mark!" came to their ears. trench heard again the unmistakable rattle of the reel of his fishing-rod as he wound in his line upon the bank of his trout stream. they talked of theatres in london, and the last plays which they had seen, the last books which they had read six years ago. "there goes the great bear," said trench, suddenly. "it is late." the tail of the constellation was dipping behind the thorn hedge of the zareeba. they turned over on their sides. "three more days," said trench. "only three more days," feversham replied. and in a minute they were neither in england nor the soudan; the stars marched to the morning unnoticed above their heads. they were lost in the pleasant countries of sleep. chapter xxix colonel trench assumes a knowledge of chemistry "three more days." both men fell asleep with these words upon their lips. but the next morning trench waked up and complained of a fever; and the fever rapidly gained upon him, so that before the afternoon had come he was light-headed, and those services which he had performed for feversham, feversham had now to perform for him. the thousand nights of the house of stone had done their work. but it was no mere coincidence that trench should suddenly be struck down by them at the very moment when the door of his prison was opening. the great revulsion of joy which had come to him so unexpectedly had been too much for his exhausted body. the actual prospect of escape had been the crowning trial which he could not endure. "in a few days he will be well," said feversham. "it is nothing." "it is _umm sabbah_," answered ibrahim, shaking his head, the terrible typhus fever which had struck down so many in that infected gaol and carried them off upon the seventh day. feversham refused to believe. "it is nothing," he repeated in a sort of passionate obstinacy; but in his mind there ran another question, "will the men with the camels wait?" each day as he went to the nile he saw abou fatma in the blue robe at his post; each day the man made his sign, and each day feversham gave no answer. meanwhile with ibrahim's help he nursed trench. the boy came daily to the prison with food; he was sent out to buy tamarinds, dates, and roots, out of which ibrahim brewed cooling draughts. together they carried trench from shade to shade as the sun moved across the zareeba. some further assistance was provided for the starving family of idris, and the forty-pound chains which trench wore were consequently removed. he was given vegetable marrow soaked in salt water, his mouth was packed with butter, his body anointed and wrapped close in camel-cloths. the fever took its course, and on the seventh day ibrahim said:-- "this is the last. to-night he will die." "no," replied feversham, "that is impossible. 'in his own parish,' he said, 'beneath the trees he knew.' not here, no." and he spoke again with a passionate obstinacy. he was no longer thinking of the man in the blue robe outside the prison walls, or of the chances of escape. the fear that the third feather would never be brought back to ethne, that she would never have the opportunity to take back the fourth of her own free will, no longer troubled him. even that great hope of "the afterwards" was for the moment banished from his mind. he thought only of trench and the few awkward words he had spoken in the corner of the zareeba on the first night when they lay side by side under the sky. "no," he repeated, "he must not die here." and through all that day and night he watched by trench's side the long hard battle between life and death. at one moment it seemed that the three years of the house of stone must win the victory, at another that trench's strong constitution and wiry frame would get the better of the three years. for that night, at all events, they did, and the struggle was prolonged. the dangerous seventh day was passed. even ibrahim began to gain hope; and on the thirteenth day trench slept and did not ramble during his sleep, and when he waked it was with a clear head. he found himself alone, and so swathed in camel-cloths that he could not stir; but the heat of the day was past, and the shadow of the house of stone lay black upon the sand of the zareeba. he had not any wish to stir, and he lay wondering idly how long he had been ill. while he wondered he heard the shouts of the gaolers, the cries of the prisoners outside the zareeba and in the direction of the river. the gate was opened, and the prisoners flocked in. feversham was among them, and he walked straight to trench's corner. "thank god!" he cried. "i would not have left you, but i was compelled. we have been unloading boats all day." and he dropped in fatigue by trench's side. "how long have i lain ill?" asked trench. "thirteen days." "it will be a month before i can travel. you must go, feversham. you must leave me here, and go while you still can. perhaps when you come to assouan you can do something for me. i could not move at present. you will go to-morrow?" "no, i should not go without you in any case," answered feversham. "as it is, it is too late." "too late?" trench repeated. he took in the meaning of the words but slowly; he was almost reluctant to be disturbed by their mere sound; he wished just to lie idle for a long time in the cool of the sunset. but gradually the import of what feversham had said forced itself into his mind. "too late? then the man in the blue gown has gone?" "yes. he spoke to me yesterday by the river. the camel men would wait no longer. they were afraid of detection, and meant to return whether we went with them or not." "you should have gone with them," said trench. for himself he did not at that moment care whether he was to live in the prison all his life, so long as he was allowed quietly to lie where he was for a long time; and it was without any expression of despair that he added, "so our one chance is lost." "no, deferred," replied feversham. "the man who watched by the river in the blue gown brought me paper, a pen, and some wood-soot mixed with water. he was able to drop them by my side as i lay upon the ground. i hid them beneath my jibbeh, and last night--there was a moon last night--i wrote to a greek merchant who keeps a _café_ at wadi halfa. i gave him the letter this afternoon, and he has gone. he will deliver it and receive money. in six months, in a year at the latest, he will be back in omdurman." "very likely," said trench. "he will ask for another letter, so that he may receive more money, and again he will say that in six months or a year he will be back in omdurman. i know these people." "you do not know abou fatma. he was gordon's servant over there before khartum fell; he has been mine since. he came with me to obak, and waited there while i went down to berber. he risked his life in coming to omdurman at all. within six months he will be back, you may be very sure." trench did not continue the argument. he let his eyes wander about the enclosure, and they settled at last upon a pile of newly turned earth which lay in one corner. "what are they digging?" he asked. "a well," answered feversham. "a well?" said trench, fretfully, "and so close to the nile! why? what's the object?" "i don't know," said feversham. indeed he did not know, but he suspected. with a great fear at his heart he suspected the reason why the well was being dug in the enclosure of the prison. he would not, however, reveal his suspicion until his companion was strong enough to bear the disappointment which belief in it would entail. but within a few days his suspicion was proved true. it was openly announced that a high wall was to be built about the house of stone. too many prisoners had escaped in their fetters along the nile bank. henceforward they were to be kept from year's beginning to year's end within the wall. the prisoners built it themselves of mud-bricks dried in the sun. feversham took his share in the work, and trench, as soon almost as he could stand, was joined with him. "here's our last hope gone," he said; and though feversham did not openly agree, in spite of himself his heart began to consent. they piled the bricks one upon the other and mortised them. each day the wall rose a foot. with their own hands they closed themselves in. twelve feet high the wall stood when they had finished it--twelve feet high, and smooth and strong. there was never a projection from its surface on which a foot could rest; it could not be broken through in a night. trench and feversham contemplated it in despair. the very palm trees of khartum were now hidden from their eyes. a square of bright blue by day, a square of dark blue by night, jewelled with points of silver and flashing gold, limited their world. trench covered his face with his hands. "i daren't look at it," he said in a broken voice. "we have been building our own coffin, feversham, that's the truth of it." and then he cast up his arms and cried aloud: "will they never come up the nile, the gunboats and the soldiers? have they forgotten us in england? good god! have they forgotten us?" "hush!" replied feversham. "we shall find a way of escape, never fear. we must wait six months. well, we have both of us waited years. six months,--what are they?" but, though he spoke stoutly for his comrade's sake, his own heart sank within him. the details of their life during the six months are not to be dwelt upon. in that pestilent enclosure only the myriad vermin lived lives of comfort. no news filtered in from the world outside. they fed upon their own thoughts, so that the sight of a lizard upon the wall became an occasion for excitement. they were stung by scorpions at night; they were at times flogged by their gaolers by day. they lived at the mercy of the whims of idris-es-saier and that peculiar spirit nebbi khiddr, who always reported against them to the khalifa just at the moment when idris was most in need of money for his starving family. religious men were sent by the khalifa to convert them to the only true religion; and indeed the long theological disputations in the enclosure became events to which both men looked forward with eagerness. at one time they would be freed from the heavier shackles and allowed to sleep in the open; at another, without reason, those privileges would be withdrawn, and they struggled for their lives within the house of stone. the six months came to an end. the seventh began; a fortnight of it passed, and the boy who brought feversham food could never cheer their hearts with word that abou fatma had come back. "he will never come," said trench, in despair. "surely he will--if he is alive," said feversham. "but is he alive?" the seventh month passed, and one morning at the beginning of the eighth there came two of the khalifa's bodyguard to the prison, who talked with idris. idris advanced to the two prisoners. "verily god is good to you, you men from the bad world," he said. "you are to look upon the countenance of the khalifa. how happy you should be!" trench and feversham rose up from the ground in no very happy frame of mind. "what does he want with us? is this the end?" the questions started up clear in both their minds. they followed the two guards out through the door and up the street towards the khalifa's house. "does it mean death?" said feversham. trench shrugged his shoulders and laughed sourly. "it is on the cards that nebbi khiddr has suggested something of the kind," he said. they were led into the great parade-ground before the mosque, and thence into the khalifa's house, where another white man sat in attendance upon the threshold. within the khalifa was seated upon an angareb, and a grey-bearded greek stood beside him. the khalifa remarked to them that they were both to be employed upon the manufacture of gunpowder, with which the armies of the turks were shortly to be overwhelmed. feversham was on the point of disclaiming any knowledge of the process, but before he could open his lips he heard trench declaring in fluent arabic that there was nothing connected with gunpowder which he did not know about; and upon his words they were both told they were to be employed at the powder factory under the supervision of the greek. for that greek both prisoners will entertain a regard to their dying day. there was in the world a true samaritan. it was out of sheer pity, knowing the two men to be herded in the house of stone, that he suggested to the khalifa their employment, and the same pity taught him to cover the deficiencies of their knowledge. "i know nothing whatever about the making of gunpowder except that crystals are used," said trench. "but we shall leave the prison each day, and that is something, though we return each night. who knows when a chance of escape may come?" the powder factory lay in the northward part of the town, and on the bank of the nile just beyond the limits of the great mud wall and at the back of the slave market. every morning the two prisoners were let out from the prison door, they tramped along the river-bank on the outside of the town wall, and came into the powder factory past the storehouses of the khalifa's bodyguard. every evening they went back by the same road to the house of stone. no guard was sent with them, since flight seemed impossible, and each journey that they made they looked anxiously for the man in the blue robe. but the months passed, and may brought with it the summer. "something has happened to abou fatma," said feversham. "he has been caught at berber perhaps. in some way he has been delayed." "he will not come," said trench. feversham could no longer pretend to hope that he would. he did not know of a sword-thrust received by abou fatma, as he fled through berber on his return from omdurman. he had been recognised by one of his old gaolers in that town, and had got cheaply off with the one thrust in his thigh. from that wound he had through the greater part of this year been slowly recovering in the hospital at assouan. but though feversham heard nothing of abou fatma, towards the end of may he received news that others were working for his escape. as trench and he passed in the dusk of one evening between the storehouses and the town wall, a man in the shadow of one of the narrow alleys which opened from the storehouses whispered to them to stop. trench knelt down upon the ground and examined his foot as though a stone had cut it, and as he kneeled the man walked past them and dropped a slip of paper at their feet. he was a suakin merchant, who had a booth in the grain market of omdurman. trench picked up the paper, hid it in his hand and limped on, with feversham at his side. there was no address or name upon the outside, and as soon as they had left the houses behind, and had only the wall upon their right and the nile upon their left, trench sat down again. there was a crowd about the water's edge, men passed up and down between the crowd and them. trench took his foot into his lap and examined the sole. but at the same time he unfolded the paper in the hollow of his hand and read the contents aloud. he could hardly read them, his voice so trembled. feversham could hardly hear them, the blood so sang in his ears. "a man will bring to you a box of matches. when he comes trust him.--sutch." and he asked, "who is sutch?" "a great friend of mine," said feversham. "he is in egypt, then! does he say where?" "no; but since mohammed ali, the grain merchant, dropped the paper, we may be sure he is at suakin. a man with a box of matches! think, we may meet him to-night!" but it was a month later when, in the evening, an arab pushed past them on the river-bank and said: "i am the man with the matches. to-morrow by the storehouse at this hour." and as he walked past them he dropped a box of coloured matches on the ground. feversham stooped instantly. "don't touch them," said trench, and he pressed the box into the ground with his foot and walked on. "sutch!" exclaimed feversham. "so he comes to our help! how did he know that i was here?" trench fairly shook with excitement as he walked. he did not speak of the great new hope which so suddenly came to them, for he dared not. he tried even to pretend to himself that no message at all had come. he was afraid to let his mind dwell upon the subject. both men slept brokenly that night, and every time they waked it was with a dim consciousness that something great and wonderful had happened. feversham, as he lay upon his back and gazed upwards at the stars, had a fancy that he had fallen asleep in the garden of broad place, on the surrey hills, and that he had but to raise his head to see the dark pines upon his right hand and his left, and but to look behind to see the gables of the house against the sky. he fell asleep towards dawn, and within an hour was waked up by a violent shaking. he saw trench bending over him with a great fear on his face. "suppose they keep us in the prison to-day," he whispered in a shaking voice, plucking at feversham. "it has just occurred to me! suppose they did that!" "why should they?" answered feversham; but the same fear caught hold of him, and they sat dreading the appearance of idris, lest he should have some such new order to deliver. but idris crossed the yard and unbolted the prison door without a look at them. fighting, screaming, jammed together in the entrance, pulled back, thrust forwards, the captives struggled out into the air, and among them was one who ran, foaming at the mouth, and dashed his head against the wall. "he is mad!" said trench, as the gaolers secured him; and since trench was unmanned that morning he began to speak rapidly and almost with incoherence. "that's what i have feared, feversham, that i should go mad. to die, even here, one could put up with that without overmuch regret; but to go mad!" and he shivered. "if this man with the matches proves false to us, feversham, i shall be near to it--very near to it. a man one day, a raving, foaming idiot the next--a thing to be put away out of sight, out of hearing. god, but that's horrible!" and he dropped his head between his hands, and dared not look up until idris crossed to them and bade them go about their work. what work they did in the factory that day neither knew. they were only aware that the hours passed with an extraordinary slowness, but the evening came at last. "among the storehouses," said trench. they dived into the first alley which they passed, and turning a corner saw the man who had brought the matches. "i am abdul kader," he began at once. "i have come to arrange for your escape. but at present flight is impossible;" and trench swayed upon his feet as he heard the word. "impossible?" asked feversham. "yes. i brought three camels to omdurman, of which two have died. the effendi at suakin gave me money, but not enough. i could not arrange for relays, but if you will give me a letter to the effendi telling him to give me two hundred pounds, then i will have everything ready and come again within three months." trench turned his back so that his companion might not see his face. all his spirit had gone from him at this last stroke of fortune. the truth was clear to him, appallingly clear. abdul kader was not going to risk his life; he would be the shuttle going backwards and forwards between omdurman and suakin as long as feversham cared to write letters and sutch to pay money. but the shuttle would do no weaving. "i have nothing with which to write," said feversham, and abdul kader produced them. "be quick," he said. "write quickly, lest we be discovered." and feversham wrote; but though he wrote as abdul suggested, the futility of his writing was as clear to him as to trench. "there is the letter," he said, and he handed it to abdul, and, taking trench by the arm, walked without another word away. they passed out of the alley and came again to the great mud wall. it was sunset. to their left the river gleamed with changing lights--here it ran the colour of an olive, there rose pink, and here again a brilliant green; above their heads the stars were coming out, in the east it was already dusk; and behind them in the town, drums were beginning to beat with their barbaric monotone. both men walked with their chins sunk upon their breasts, their eyes upon the ground. they had come to the end of hope, they were possessed with a lethargy of despair. feversham thought not at all of the pine trees on the surrey hills, nor did trench have any dread that something in his head would snap and that which made him man be reft from him. they walked slowly, as though their fetters had grown ten times their weight, and without a word. so stricken, indeed, were they that an arab turned and kept pace beside them, and neither noticed his presence. in a few moments the arab spoke:-- "the camels are ready in the desert, ten miles to the west." but he spoke in so low a voice, and those to whom he spoke were so absorbed in misery, that the words passed unheard. he repeated them, and feversham looked up. quite slowly their meaning broke in on feversham's mind; quite slowly he recognised the man who uttered them. "abou fatma!" he said. "hoosh!" returned abou fatma, "the camels are ready." "now?" "now." trench leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, and the face of a sick man. it seemed that he would swoon, and feversham took him by the arm. "is it true?" trench asked faintly; and before feversham could answer abou fatma went on:-- "walk forwards very slowly. before you reach the end of the wall it will be dusk. draw your cloaks over your heads, wrap these rags about your chains, so that they do not rattle. then turn and come back, go close to the water beyond the storehouses. i will be there with a man to remove your chains. but keep your faces well covered and do not stop. he will think you slaves." with that he passed some rags to them, holding his hands behind his back, while they stood close to him. then he turned and hurried back. very slowly feversham and trench walked forwards in the direction of the prison; the dusk crept across the river, mounted the long slope of sand, enveloped them. they sat down and quickly wrapped the rags about their chains and secured them there. from the west the colours of the sunset had altogether faded, the darkness gathered quickly about them. they turned and walked back along the road they had come. the drums were more numerous now, and above the wall there rose a glare of light. by the time they had reached the water's edge opposite the storehouses it was dark. abou fatma was already waiting with his blacksmith. the chains were knocked off without a word spoken. "come," said abou. "there will be no moon to-night. how long before they discover you are gone?" "who knows? perhaps already idris has missed us. perhaps he will not till morning. there are many prisoners." they ran up the slope of sand, between the quarters of the tribes, across the narrow width of the city, through the cemetery. on the far side of the cemetery stood a disused house; a man rose up in the doorway as they approached, and went in. "wait here," said abou fatma, and he too went into the house. in a moment both men came back, and each one led a camel and made it kneel. "mount," said abou fatma. "bring its head round and hold it as you mount." "i know the trick," said trench. feversham climbed up behind him, the two arabs mounted the second camel. "ten miles to the west," said abou fatma, and he struck the camel on the flanks. behind them the glare of the lights dwindled, the tapping of the drums diminished. chapter xxx the last of the southern cross the wind blew keen and cold from the north. the camels, freshened by it, trotted out at their fastest pace. "quicker," said trench, between his teeth. "already idris may have missed us." "even if he has," replied feversham, "it will take time to get men together for a pursuit, and those men must fetch their camels, and already it is dark." but although he spoke hopefully, he turned his head again and again towards the glare of light above omdurman. he could no longer hear the tapping of the drums, that was some consolation. but he was in a country of silence, where men could journey swiftly and yet make no noise. there would be no sound of galloping horses to warn him that pursuit was at his heels. even at that moment the ansar soldiers might be riding within thirty paces of them, and feversham strained his eyes backwards into the darkness and expected the glimmer of a white turban. trench, however, never turned his head. he rode with his teeth set, looking forwards. yet fear was no less strong in him than in feversham. indeed, it was stronger, for he did not look back towards omdurman because he did not dare; and though his eyes were fixed directly in front of him, the things which he really saw were the long narrow streets of the town behind him, the dotted fires at the corners of the streets, and men running hither and thither among the houses, making their quick search for the two prisoners escaped from the house of stone. once his attention was diverted by a word from feversham, and he answered without turning his head:-- "what is it?" "i no longer see the fires of omdurman." "the golden blot, eh, very low down?" trench answered in an abstracted voice. feversham did not ask him to explain what his allusion meant, nor could trench have disclosed why he had spoken it; the words had come back to him suddenly with a feeling that it was somehow appropriate that the vision which was the last thing to meet feversham's eyes as he set out upon his mission he should see again now that that mission was accomplished. they spoke no more until two figures rose out of the darkness in front of them, at the very feet of their camels, and abou fatma cried in a low voice:-- "instanna!" they halted their camels and made them kneel. "the new camels are here?" asked abou fatma, and two of the men disappeared for a few minutes and brought four camels up. meanwhile the saddles were unfastened and removed from the camels trench and his companion had ridden out of omdurman. "they are good camels?" asked feversham, as he helped to fix the saddles upon the fresh ones. "of the anafi breed," answered abou fatma. "quick! quick!" and he looked anxiously to the east and listened. "the arms?" said trench. "you have them? where are they?" and he bent his body and searched the ground for them. "in a moment," said abou fatma, but it seemed that trench could hardly wait for that moment to arrive. he showed even more anxiety to handle the weapons than he had shown fear that he would be overtaken. "there is ammunition?" he asked feverishly. "yes, yes," replied abou fatma, "ammunition and rifles and revolvers." he led the way to a spot about twenty yards from the camels, where some long desert grass rustled about their legs. he stooped and dug into the soft sand with his hands. "here," he said. trench flung himself upon the ground beside him and scooped with both hands, making all the while an inhuman whimpering sound with his mouth, like the noise a foxhound makes at a cover. there was something rather horrible to feversham in his attitude as he scraped at the ground on his knees, at the action of his hands, quick like the movements of a dog's paws, and in the whine of his voice. he was sunk for the time into an animal. in a moment or two trench's fingers touched the lock and trigger of a rifle, and he became man again. he stood up quietly with the rifle in his hands. the other arms were unearthed, the ammunition shared. "now," said trench, and he laughed with a great thrill of joy in the laugh. "now i don't mind. let them follow from omdurman! one thing is certain now: i shall never go back there; no, not even if they overtake us," and he fondled the rifle which he held and spoke to it as though it lived. two of the arabs mounted the old camels and rode slowly away to omdurman. abou fatma and the other remained with the fugitives. they mounted and trotted northeastwards. no more than a quarter of an hour had elapsed since they had first halted at abou fatma's word. all that night they rode through halfa grass and mimosa trees and went but slowly, but they came about sunrise on to flat bare ground broken with small hillocks. "are the effendi tired?" asked abou fatma. "will they stop and eat? there is food upon the saddle of each camel." "no; we can eat as we go." dates and bread and a draught of water from a zamsheyeh made up their meal, and they ate it as they sat their camels. these, indeed, now that they were free of the long desert grass, trotted at their quickest pace. and at sunset that evening they stopped and rested for an hour. all through that night they rode and the next day, straining their own endurance and that of the beasts they were mounted on, now ascending on to high and rocky ground, now traversing a valley, and now trotting fast across plains of honey-coloured sand. yet to each man the pace seemed always as slow as a funeral. a mountain would lift itself above the rim of the horizon at sunrise, and for the whole livelong day it stood before their eyes, and was never a foot higher or an inch nearer. at times, some men tilling a scanty patch of sorghum would send the fugitives' hearts leaping in their throats, and they must make a wide detour; or again a caravan would be sighted in the far distance by the keen eyes of abou fatma, and they made their camels kneel and lay crouched behind a rock, with their loaded rifles in their hands. ten miles from abu klea a relay of fresh camels awaited them, and upon these they travelled, keeping a day's march westward of the nile. thence they passed through the desert country of the ababdeh, and came in sight of a broad grey tract stretching across their path. "the road from berber to merowi," said abou fatma. "north of it we turn east to the river. we cross that road to-night; and if god wills, to-morrow evening we shall have crossed the nile." "if god wills," said trench. "if only he wills," and he glanced about him in a fear which only increased the nearer they drew towards safety. they were in a country traversed by the caravans; it was no longer safe to travel by day. they dismounted, and all that day they lay hidden behind a belt of shrubs upon some high ground and watched the road and the people like specks moving along it. they came down and crossed it in the darkness, and for the rest of that night travelled hard towards the river. as the day broke abou fatma again bade them halt. they were in a desolate open country, whereon the smallest protection was magnified by the surrounding flatness. feversham and trench gazed eagerly to their right. somewhere in that direction and within the range of their eyesight flowed the nile, but they could not see it. "we must build a circle of stones," said abou fatma, "and you must lie close to the ground within it. i will go forward to the river, and see that the boat is ready and that our friends are prepared for us. i shall come back after dark." they gathered the stones quickly and made a low wall about a foot high; within this wall feversham and trench laid themselves down upon the ground with a water-skin and their rifles at their sides. "you have dates, too," said abou fatma. "yes." "then do not stir from the hiding-place till i come back. i will take your camels, and bring you back fresh ones in the evening." and in company with his fellow-arab he rode off towards the river. trench and feversham dug out the sand within the stones and lay down, watching the horizon between the interstices. for both of them this perhaps was the longest day of their lives. they were so near to safety and yet not safe. to trench's thinking it was longer than a night in the house of stone, and to feversham longer than even one of those days six years back when he had sat in his rooms above st. james's park and waited for the night to fall before he dared venture out into the streets. they were so near to berber, and the pursuit must needs be close behind. feversham lay wondering how he had ever found the courage to venture himself in berber. they had no shade to protect them; all day the sun burnt pitilessly upon their backs, and within the narrow circle of stones they had no room wherein to move. they spoke hardly at all. the sunset, however, came at the last, the friendly darkness gathered about them, and a cool wind rustled through the darkness across the desert. "listen!" said trench; and both men as they strained their ears heard the soft padding of camels very near at hand. a moment later a low whistle brought them out of their shelter. "we are here," said feversham, quietly. "god be thanked!" said abou fatma. "i have good news for you, and bad news too. the boat is ready, our friends are waiting for us, camels are prepared for you on the caravan track by the river-bank to abu hamed. but your escape is known, and the roads and the ferries are closely watched. before sunrise we must have struck inland from the eastern bank of the nile." they crossed the river cautiously about one o'clock of the morning, and sank the boat upon the far side of the stream. the camels were waiting for them, and they travelled inland and more slowly than suited the anxiety of the fugitives. for the ground was thickly covered with boulders, and the camels could seldom proceed at any pace faster than a walk. and all through the next day they lay hidden again within a ring of stones while the camels were removed to some high ground where they could graze. during the next night, however, they made good progress, and, coming to the groves of abu hamed in two days, rested for twelve hours there and mounted upon a fresh relay. from abu hamed their road lay across the great nubian desert. nowadays the traveller may journey through the two hundred and forty miles of that waterless plain of coal-black rocks and yellow sand, and sleep in his berth upon the way. the morning will show to him, perhaps, a tent, a great pile of coal, a water tank, and a number painted on a white signboard, and the stoppage of the train will inform him that he has come to a station. let him put his head from the window, he will see the long line of telegraph poles reaching from the sky's rim behind him to the sky's rim in front, and huddling together, as it seems, with less and less space between them the farther they are away. twelve hours will enclose the beginning and the end of his journey, unless the engine break down or the rail be blocked. but in the days when feversham and trench escaped from omdurman progression was not so easy a matter. they kept eastward of the present railway and along the line of wells among the hills. and on the second night of this stage of their journey trench shook feversham by the shoulders and waked him up. "look," he said, and he pointed to the south. "to-night there's no southern cross." his voice broke with emotion. "for six years, for every night of six years, until this night, i have seen the southern cross. how often have i lain awake watching it, wondering whether the night would ever come when i should not see those four slanting stars! i tell you, feversham, this is the first moment when i have really dared to think that we should escape." both men sat up and watched the southern sky with prayers of thankfulness in their hearts; and when they fell asleep it was only to wake up again and again with a fear that they would after all still see that constellation blazing low down towards the earth, and to fall asleep again confident of the issue of their desert ride. at the end of seven days they came to shof-el-ain, a tiny well set in a barren valley between featureless ridges, and by the side of that well they camped. they were in the country of the amrab arabs, and had come to an end of their peril. "we are safe," cried abou fatma. "god is good. northwards to assouan, westwards to wadi halfa, we are safe!" and spreading a cloth upon the ground in front of the kneeling camels, he heaped dhurra before them. he even went so far in his gratitude as to pat one of the animals upon the neck, and it immediately turned upon him and snarled. trench reached out his hand to feversham. "thank you," he said simply. "no need of thanks," answered feversham, and he did not take the hand. "i served myself from first to last." "you have learned the churlishness of a camel," cried trench. "a camel will carry you where you want to go, will carry you till it drops dead, and yet if you show your gratitude it resents and bites. hang it all, feversham, there's my hand." feversham untied a knot in the breast of his jibbeh and took out three white feathers, two small, the feathers of a heron, the other large, an ostrich feather broken from a fan. "will you take yours back?" "yes." "you know what to do with it." "yes. there shall be no delay." feversham wrapped the remaining feathers carefully away in a corner of his ragged jibbeh and tied them safe. "we shake hands, then," said he; and as their hands met he added, "to-morrow morning we part company." "part company, you and i--after the year in omdurman, the weeks of flight?" exclaimed trench. "why? there's no more to be done. castleton's dead. you keep the feather which he sent, but he is dead. you can do nothing with it. you must come home." "yes," answered feversham, "but after you, certainly not with you. you go on to assouan and cairo. at each place you will find friends to welcome you. i shall not go with you." trench was silent for a while. he understood feversham's reluctance, he saw that it would be easier for feversham if he were to tell his story first to ethne eustace, and without feversham's presence. "i ought to tell you no one knows why you resigned your commission, or of the feathers we sent. we never spoke of it. we agreed never to speak, for the honour of the regiment. i can't tell you how glad i am that we all agreed and kept to the agreement," he said. "perhaps you will see durrance," said feversham; "if you do, give him a message from me. tell him that the next time he asks me to come and see him, whether it is in england or wadi halfa, i will accept the invitation." "which way will you go?" "to wadi halfa," said feversham, pointing westwards over his shoulder. "i shall take abou fatma with me and travel slowly and quietly down the nile. the other arab will guide you into assouan." they slept that night in security beside the well, and the next morning they parted company. trench was the first to ride off, and as his camel rose to its feet, ready for the start, he bent down towards feversham, who passed him the nose rein. "ramelton, that was the name? i shall not forget." "yes, ramelton," said feversham; "there's a ferry across lough swilly to rathmullen. you must drive the twelve miles to ramelton. but you may not find her there." "if not there, i shall find her somewhere else. make no mistake, feversham, i shall find her." and trench rode forward, alone with his arab guide. more than once he turned his head and saw feversham still standing by the well; more than once he was strongly drawn to stop and ride back to that solitary figure, but he contented himself with waving his hand, and even that salute was not returned. feversham, indeed, had neither thought nor eyes for the companion of his flight. his six years of hard probation had come this morning to an end, and yet he was more sensible of a certain loss and vacancy than of any joy. for six years, through many trials, through many falterings, his mission had strengthened and sustained him. it seemed to him now that there was nothing more wherewith to occupy his life. ethne? no doubt she was long since married ... and there came upon him all at once a great bitterness of despair for that futile, unnecessary mistake made by him six years ago. he saw again the room in london overlooking the quiet trees and lawns of st. james's park, he heard the knock upon the door, he took the telegram from his servant's hand. he roused himself finally with the recollection that, after all, the work was not quite done. there was his father, who just at this moment was very likely reading his _times_ after breakfast upon the terrace of broad place among the pine trees upon the surrey hills. he must visit his father, he must take that fourth feather back to ramelton. there was a telegram, too, which must be sent to lieutenant sutch at suakin. he mounted his camel and rode slowly with abou fatma westwards towards wadi halfa. but the sense of loss did not pass from him that day, nor his anger at the act of folly which had brought about his downfall. the wooded slopes of ramelton were very visible to him across the shimmer of the desert air. in the greatness of his depression harry feversham upon this day for the first time doubted his faith in the "afterwards." chapter xxxi feversham returns to ramelton on an august morning of the same year harry feversham rode across the lennon bridge into ramelton. the fierce suns of the soudan had tanned his face, the years of his probation had left their marks; he rode up the narrow street of the town unrecognised. at the top of the hill he turned into the broad highway which, descending valleys and climbing hills, runs in one straight line to letterkenny. he rode rather quickly in a company of ghosts. the intervening years had gradually been dropping from his thoughts all through his journey across egypt and the continent. they were no more than visionary now. nor was he occupied with any dream of the things which might have been but for his great fault. the things which had been, here, in this small town of ireland, were too definite. here he had been most happy, here he had known the uttermost of his misery; here his presence had brought pleasure, here too he had done his worst harm. once he stopped when he was opposite to the church, set high above the road upon his right hand, and wondered whether ethne was still at ramelton--whether old dermod was alive, and what kind of welcome he would receive. but he waked in a moment to the knowledge that he was sitting upon his horse in the empty road and in the quiet of an august morning. there were larks singing in the pale blue above his head; a landrail sent up its harsh cry from the meadow on the left; the crow of a cock rose clear from the valley. he looked about him, and rode briskly on down the incline in front of him and up the ascent beyond. he rode again with his company of ghosts--phantoms of people with whom upon this road he had walked and ridden and laughed, ghosts of old thoughts and recollected words. he came to a thick grove of trees, a broken fence, a gateway with no gate. inattentive to these evidences of desertion, he turned in at the gate and rode along a weedy and neglected drive. at the end of it he came to an open space before a ruined house. the aspect of the tumbling walls and unroofed rooms roused him at last completely from his absorption. he dismounted, and, tying his horse to the branch of a tree, ran quickly into the house and called aloud. no voice answered him. he ran from deserted room to deserted room. he descended into the garden, but no one came to meet him; and he understood now from the uncut grass upon the lawn, the tangled disorder of the flowerbeds, that no one would come. he mounted his horse again, and rode back at a sharp trot. in ramelton he stopped at the inn, gave his horse to the ostler, and ordered lunch for himself. he said to the landlady who waited upon him:-- "so lennon house has been burned down? when was that?" "five years ago," the landlady returned, "just five years ago this summer." and she proceeded, without further invitation, to give a voluminous account of the conflagration and the cause of it, the ruin of the eustace family, the inebriety of bastable, and the death of dermod eustace at glenalla. "but we hope to see the house rebuilt. it's likely to be, we hear, when miss eustace is married," she said, in a voice which suggested that she was full of interesting information upon the subject of miss eustace's marriage. her guest, however, did not respond to the invitation. "and where does miss eustace live now?" "at glenalla," she replied. "halfway on the road to rathmullen there's a track leads up to your left. it's a poor mountain village is glenalla, and no place for miss eustace, at all, at all. perhaps you will be wanting to see her?" "yes. i shall be glad if you will order my horse to be brought round to the door," said the man; and he rose from the table to put an end to the interview. the landlady, however, was not so easily dismissed. she stood at the door and remarked:-- "well, that's curious--that's most curious. for only a fortnight ago a gentleman burnt just as black as yourself stayed a night here on the same errand. he asked for miss eustace's address and drove up to glenalla. perhaps you have business with her?" "yes, i have business with miss eustace," the stranger returned. "will you be good enough to give orders about my horse?" while he was waiting for his horse he looked through the leaves of the hotel book, and saw under a date towards the end of july the name of colonel trench. "you will come back, sir, to-night?" said the landlady, as he mounted. "no," he answered, "i do not think i shall come again to ramelton." and he rode down the hill, and once more that day crossed the lennon bridge. four miles on he came to the track opposite a little bay of the lough, and, turning into it, he rode past a few white cottages up to the purple hollow of the hills. it was about five o'clock when he came to the long, straggling village. it seemed very quiet and deserted, and built without any plan. a few cottages stood together, then came a gap of fields, beyond that a small plantation of larches and a house which stood by itself. beyond the house was another gap, through which he could see straight down to the water of the lough, shining in the afternoon sun, and the white gulls poising and swooping above it. and after passing that gap he came to a small grey church, standing bare to the winds upon its tiny plateau. a pathway of white shell-dust led from the door of the church to the little wooden gate. as he came level with the gate a collie dog barked at him from behind it. the rider looked at the dog, which was very grey about the muzzle. he noticed its marking, and stopped his horse altogether. he glanced towards the church, and saw that the door stood open. at once he dismounted; he fastened his horse to the fence, and entered the churchyard. the collie thrust its muzzle into the back of his knee, sniffed once or twice doubtfully, and suddenly broke into an exuberant welcome. the collie dog had a better memory than the landlady of the inn. he barked, wagged his tail, crouched and sprang at the stranger's shoulders, whirled round and round in front of him, burst into sharp, excited screams of pleasure, ran up to the church door and barked furiously there, then ran back and jumped again upon his friend. the man caught the dog as it stood up with its forepaws upon his chest, patted it, and laughed. suddenly he ceased laughing, and stood stock-still with his eyes towards the open door of the church. in the doorway ethne eustace was standing. he put the dog down and slowly walked up the path towards her. she waited on the threshold without moving, without speaking. she waited, watching him, until he came close to her. then she said simply:-- "harry." she was silent after that; nor did he speak. all the ghosts and phantoms of old thoughts in whose company he had travelled the whole of that day vanished away from his mind at her simple utterance of his name. six years had passed since his feet crushed the gravel on the dawn of a june morning beneath her window. and they looked at one another, remarking the changes which those six years had brought. and the changes, unnoticed and almost imperceptible to those who had lived daily in their company, sprang very distinct to the eyes of these two. feversham was thin, his face was wasted. the strain of life in the house of stone had left its signs about his sunken eyes and in the look of age beyond his years. but these were not the only changes, as ethne noticed; they were not, indeed, the most important ones. her heart, although she stood so still and silent, went out to him in grief for the great troubles which he had endured; but she saw, too, that he came back without a thought of anger towards her for that fourth feather snapped from her fan. but she was clear-eyed even at this moment. she saw much more. she understood that the man who stood quietly before her now was not the same man whom she had last seen in the hall of ramelton. there had been a timidity in his manner in those days, a peculiar diffidence, a continual expectation of other men's contempt, which had gone from him. he was now quietly self-possessed; not arrogant; on the other hand, not diffident. he had put himself to a long, hard test; and he knew that he had not failed. all that she saw; and her face lightened as she said:-- "it is not all harm which has come of these years. they were not wasted." but feversham thought of her lonely years in this village of glenalla--and thought with a man's thought, unaware that nowhere else would she have chosen to live. he looked into her face, and saw the marks of the years upon it. it was not that she had aged so much. her big grey eyes shone as clearly as before, the colour was still as bright upon her cheeks. but there was more of character. she had suffered; she had eaten of the tree of knowledge. "i am sorry," he said. "i did you a great wrong six years ago, and i need not." she held out her hand to him. "will you give it me, please?" and for a moment he did not understand. "that fourth feather," she said. he drew his letter-case from his coat, and shook two feathers out into the palm of his hand. the larger one, the ostrich feather, he held out to her. but she said:-- "both." there was no reason why he should keep castleton's feather any longer. he handed them both to her, since she asked for them, and she clasped them, and with a smile treasured them against her breast. "i have the four feathers now," she said. "yes," answered feversham; "all four. what will you do with them?" ethne's smile became a laugh. "do with them!" she cried in scorn. "i shall do nothing with them. i shall keep them. i am very proud to have them to keep." she kept them, as she had once kept harry feversham's portrait. there was something perhaps in durrance's contention that women so much more than men gather up their experiences and live upon them, looking backwards. feversham, at all events, would now have dropped the feathers then and there and crushed them into the dust of the path with his heel; they had done their work. they could no longer reproach, they were no longer needed to encourage, they were dead things. ethne, however, held them tight in her hand; to her they were not dead. "colonel trench was here a fortnight ago," she said. "he told me you were bringing it back to me." "but he did not know of the fourth feather," said feversham. "i never told any man that i had it." "yes. you told colonel trench on your first night in the house of stone at omdurman. he told me. i no longer hate him," she added, but without a smile and quite seriously, as though it was an important statement which needed careful recognition. "i am glad of that," said feversham. "he is a great friend of mine." ethne was silent for a moment or two. then she said:-- "i wonder whether you have forgotten our drive from ramelton to our house when i came to fetch you from the quay? we were alone in the dog-cart, and we spoke--" "of the friends whom one knows for friends the first moment, and whom one seems to recognise even though one has never seen them before," interrupted feversham. "indeed i remember." "and whom one never loses whether absent or dead," continued ethne. "i said that one could always be sure of such friends, and you answered--" "i answered that one could make mistakes," again feversham interrupted. "yes, and i disagreed. i said that one might seem to make mistakes, and perhaps think so for a long while, but that in the end one would be proved not to have made them. i have often thought of those words. i remembered them very clearly when captain willoughby brought to me the first feather, and with a great deal of remorse. i remember them again very clearly to-day, although i have no room in my thoughts for remorse. i was right, you see, and i should have clung firmly to my faith. but i did not." her voice shook a little, and pleaded as she went on: "i was young. i knew very little. i was unaware how little. i judged hastily; but to-day i understand." she opened her hand and gazed for a while at the white feathers. then she turned and went inside the church. feversham followed her. chapter xxxii in the church at glenalla ethne sat down in the corner of a pew next to the aisle, and feversham took his stand beside her. it was very quiet and peaceful within that tiny church. the afternoon sun shone through the upper windows and made a golden haze about the roof. the natural murmurs of the summer floated pleasantly through the open door. "i am glad that you remembered our drive and what we said," she continued. "it is rather important to me that you should remember. because, although i have got you back, i am going to send you away from me again. you will be one of the absent friends whom i shall not lose because you are absent." she spoke slowly, looking straight in front of her without faltering. it was a difficult speech for her to deliver, but she had thought over it night and day during this last fortnight, and the words were ready to her lips. at the first sight of harry feversham, recovered to her after so many years, so much suspense, so much suffering, it had seemed to her that she never would be able to speak them, however necessary it was that they should be spoken. but as they stood over against one another she had forced herself to remember that necessity until she actually recognised and felt it. then she had gone back into the church and taken a seat, and gathered up her strength. it would be easier for both of them, she thought, if she should give no sign of what so quick a separation cost her. he would know surely enough, and she wished him to know; she wished him to understand that not one moment of his six years, so far as she was concerned, had been spent in vain. but that could be understood without the signs of emotion. so she spoke her speech looking steadily straight forward and speaking in an even voice. "i know that you will mind very much, just as i do. but there is no help for it," she resumed. "at all events you are at home again, with the right to be at home. it is a great comfort to me to know that. but there are other, much greater reasons from which we can both take comfort. colonel trench told me enough of your captivity to convince me that we both see with the same eyes. we both understand that this second parting, hard as it is, is still a very slight, small thing compared with the other, our first parting over at the house six years ago. i felt very lonely after that, as i shall not feel lonely now. there was a great barrier between us then separating us forever. we should never have met again here or afterwards. i am quite sure of that. but you have broken the barrier down by all your pain and bravery during these last years. i am no less sure of that. i am absolutely confident about it, and i believe you are too. so that although we shall not see one another here and as long as we live, the afterwards is quite sure for us both. and we can wait for that. you can. you have waited with so much strength all these years since we parted. and i can too, for i get strength from your victory." she stopped, and for a while there was silence in that church. to feversham her words were gracious as rain upon dry land. to hear her speak them uplifted him so that those six years of trial, of slinking into corners out of the sight of his fellows, of lonely endurance, of many heart-sinkings and much bodily pain, dwindled away into insignificance. they had indeed borne their fruit to him. for ethne had spoken in a gentle voice just what his ears had so often longed to hear as he lay awake at night in the bazaar at suakin, in the nile villages, in the dim wide spaces of the desert, and what he had hardly dared to hope she ever would speak. he stood quite silently by her side, still hearing her voice though the voice had ceased. long ago there were certain bitter words which she had spoken, and he had told sutch, so closely had they clung and stung, that he believed in his dying moments he would hear them again and so go to his grave with her reproaches ringing in his ears. he remembered that prediction of his now and knew that it was false. the words he would hear would be those which she had just uttered. for ethne's proposal that they should separate he was not unprepared. he had heard already that she was engaged, and he did not argue against her wish. but he understood that she had more to say to him. and she had. but she was slow to speak it. this was the last time she was to see harry feversham; she meant resolutely to send him away. when once he had passed through that church door, through which the sunlight and the summer murmurs came, and his shadow gone from the threshold, she would never talk with him or set her eyes on him until her life was ended. so she deferred the moment of his going by silences and slow speech. it might be so very long before that end came. she had, she thought, the right to protract this one interview. she rather hoped that he would speak of his travels, his dangers; she was prepared to discuss at length with him even the politics of the soudan. but he waited for her. "i am going to be married," she said at length, "and immediately. i am to marry a friend of yours, colonel durrance." there was hardly a pause before feversham answered:-- "he has cared for you a long while. i was not aware of it until i went away, but, thinking over everything, i thought it likely, and in a very little time i became sure." "he is blind." "blind!" exclaimed feversham. "he, of all men, blind!" "exactly," said ethne. "he--of all men. his blindness explains everything--why i marry him, why i send you away. it was after he went blind that i became engaged to him. it was before captain willoughby came to me with the first feather. it was between those two events. you see, after you went away one thought over things rather carefully. i used to lie awake and think, and i resolved that two men's lives should not be spoilt because of me." "mine was not," feversham interrupted. "please believe that." "partly it was," she returned, "i know very well. you would not own it for my sake, but it was. i was determined that a second should not be. and so when colonel durrance went blind--you know the man he was, you can understand what blindness meant to him, the loss of everything he cared for--" "except you." "yes," ethne answered quietly, "except me. so i became engaged to him. but he has grown very quick--you cannot guess how quick. and he sees so very clearly. a hint tells him the whole hidden truth. at present he knows nothing of the four feathers." "are you sure?" suddenly exclaimed feversham. "yes. why?" asked ethne, turning her face towards him for the first time since she had sat down. "lieutenant sutch was at suakin while i was at omdurman. he knew that i was a prisoner there. he sent messages to me, he tried to organise my escape." ethne was startled. "oh," she said, "colonel durrance certainly knew that you were in omdurman. he saw you in wadi halfa, and he heard that you had gone south into the desert. he was distressed about it; he asked a friend to get news of you, and the friend got news that you were in omdurman. he told me so himself, and--yes, he told me that he would try to arrange for your escape. no doubt he has done that through lieutenant sutch. he has been at wiesbaden with an oculist; he only returned a week ago. otherwise he would have told me about it. very likely he was the reason why lieutenant sutch was at suakin, but he knows nothing of the four feathers. he only knows that our engagement was abruptly broken off; he believes that i have no longer any thought of you at all. but if you come back, if you and i saw anything of each other, however calmly we met, however indifferently we spoke, he would guess. he is so quick he would be sure to guess." she paused for a moment, and added in a whisper, "and he would guess right." feversham saw the blood flush her forehead and deepen the colour of her cheeks. he did not move from his position, he did not bend towards her, or even in voice give any sign which would make this leave-taking yet more difficult to carry through. "yes, i see," he said. "and he must not guess." "no, he must not," returned ethne. "i am so glad you see that too, harry. the straight and simple thing is the only thing for us to do. he must never guess, for, as you said, he has nothing left but me." "is durrance here?" asked feversham. "he is staying at the vicarage." "very well," he said. "it is only fair that i should tell you i had no thought that you would wait. i had no wish that you should; i had no right to such a wish. when you gave me that fourth feather in the little room at ramelton, with the music coming faintly through the door, i understood your meaning. there was to be a complete, an irrevocable end. we were not to be the merest acquaintances. so i said nothing to you of the plan which came clear and definite into my mind at the very time when you gave me the feathers. you see, i might never have succeeded. i might have died trying to succeed. i might even perhaps have shirked the attempt. it would be time enough for me to speak if i came back. so i never formed any wish that you should wait." "that was what colonel trench told me." "i told him that too?" "on your first night in the house of stone." "well, it's just the truth. the most i hoped for--and i did hope for that every hour of every day--was that, if i did come home, you would take back your feather, and that we might--not renew our friendship here, but see something of one another afterwards." "yes," said ethne. "then there will be no parting." ethne spoke very simply, without even a sigh, but she looked at harry feversham as she spoke and smiled. the look and the smile told him what the cost of the separation would be to her. and, understanding what it meant now, he understood, with an infinitely greater completeness than he had ever reached in his lonely communings, what it must have meant six years ago when she was left with her pride stricken as sorely as her heart. "what trouble you must have gone through!" he cried, and she turned and looked him over. "not i alone," she said gently. "i passed no nights in the house of stone." "but it was my fault. do you remember what you said when the morning came through the blinds? 'it's not right that one should suffer so much pain.' it was not right." "i had forgotten the words--oh, a long time since--until colonel trench reminded me. i should never have spoken them. when i did i was not thinking they would live so in your thoughts. i am sorry that i spoke them." "oh, they were just enough. i never blamed you for them," said feversham, with a laugh. "i used to think that they would be the last words i should hear when i turned my face to the wall. but you have given me others to-day wherewith to replace them." "thank you," she said quietly. there was nothing more to be said, and feversham wondered why ethne did not rise from her seat in the pew. it did not occur to him to talk of his travels or adventures. the occasion seemed too serious, too vital. they were together to decide the most solemn issue in their lives. once the decision was made, as now it had been made, he felt that they could hardly talk on other topics. ethne, however, still kept him at her side. though she sat so calmly and still, though her face was quiet in its look of gravity, her heart ached with longing. just for a little longer, she pleaded to herself. the sunlight was withdrawing from the walls of the church. she measured out a space upon the walls where it still glowed bright. when all that space was cold grey stone, she would send harry feversham away. "i am glad that you escaped from omdurman without the help of lieutenant sutch or colonel durrance. i wanted so much that everything should be done by you alone without anybody's help or interference," she said, and after she had spoken there followed a silence. once or twice she looked towards the wall, and each time she saw the space of golden light narrowed, and knew that her minutes were running out. "you suffered horribly at dongola," she said in a low voice. "colonel trench told me." "what does it matter now?" feversham answered. "that time seems rather far away to me." "had you anything of mine with you?" "i had your white feather." "but anything else? any little thing which i had given you in the other days?" "nothing." "i had your photograph," she said. "i kept it." feversham suddenly leaned down towards her. "you did!" ethne nodded her head. "yes. the moment i went upstairs that night i packed up your presents and addressed them to your rooms." "yes, i got them in london." "but i put your photograph aside first of all to keep. i burnt all your letters after i had addressed the parcel and taken it down to the hall to be sent away. i had just finished burning your letters when i heard your step upon the gravel in the early morning underneath my windows. but i had already put your photograph aside. i have it now. i shall keep it and the feathers together." she added after a moment:-- "i rather wish that you had had something of mine with you all the time." "i had no right to anything," said feversham. there was still a narrow slip of gold upon the grey space of stone. "what will you do now?" she asked. "i shall go home first and see my father. it will depend upon the way we meet." "you will let colonel durrance know. i would like to hear about it." "yes, i will write to durrance." the slip of gold was gone, the clear light of a summer evening filled the church, a light without radiance or any colour. "i shall not see you for a long while," said ethne, and for the first time her voice broke in a sob. "i shall not have a letter from you again." she leaned a little forward and bent her head, for the tears had gathered in her eyes. but she rose up bravely from her seat, and together they went out of the church side by side. she leaned towards him as they walked so that they touched. feversham untied his horse and mounted it. as his foot touched the stirrup ethne caught her dog close to her. "good-bye," she said. she did not now even try to smile, she held out her hand to him. he took it and bent down from his saddle close to her. she kept her eyes steadily upon him though the tears brimmed in them. "good-bye," he said. he held her hand just for a little while, and then releasing it, rode down the hill. he rode for a hundred yards, stopped and looked back. ethne had stopped, too, and with this space between them and their faces towards one another they remained. ethne made no sign of recognition or farewell. she just stood and looked. then she turned away and went up the village street towards her house alone and very slowly. feversham watched her till she went in at the gate, but she became dim and blurred to his vision before even she had reached it. he was able to see, however, that she did not look back again. he rode down the hill. the bad thing which he had done so long ago was not even by his six years of labour to be destroyed. it was still to live, its consequence was to be sorrow till the end of life for another than himself. that she took the sorrow bravely and without complaint, doing the straight and simple thing as her loyal nature bade her, did not diminish harry feversham's remorse. on the contrary it taught him yet more clearly that she least of all deserved unhappiness. the harm was irreparable. other women might have forgotten, but not she. for ethne was of those who neither lightly feel nor lightly forget, and if they love cannot love with half a heart. she would be alone now, he knew, in spite of her marriage, alone up to the very end and at the actual moment of death. chapter xxxiii ethne again plays the musoline overture the incredible words were spoken that evening. ethne went into her farm-house and sat down in the parlour. she felt cold that summer evening and had the fire lighted. she sat gazing into the bright coals with that stillness of attitude which was a sure sign with her of tense emotion. the moment so eagerly looked for had come, and it was over. she was alone now in her remote little village, out of the world in the hills, and more alone than she had been since willoughby sailed on that august morning down the salcombe estuary. from the time of willoughby's coming she had looked forward night and day to the one half-hour during which harry feversham would be with her. the half-hour had come and passed. she knew now how she had counted upon its coming, how she had lived for it. she felt lonely in a rather empty world. but it was part of her nature that she had foreseen this sense of loneliness; she had known that there would be a bad hour for her after she had sent harry feversham away, that all her heart and soul would clamour to her to call him back. and she forced herself, as she sat shivering by the fire, to remember that she had always foreseen and had always looked beyond it. to-morrow she would know again that they had not parted forever, to-morrow she would compare the parting of to-day with the parting on the night of the ball at lennon house, and recognise what a small thing this was to that. she fell to wondering what harry feversham would do now that he had returned, and while she was building up for him a future of great distinction she felt dermod's old collie dog nuzzling at her hand with his sure instinct that his mistress was in distress. ethne rose from her chair and took the dog's head between her hands and kissed it. he was very old, she thought; he would die soon and leave her, and then there would be years and years, perhaps, before she lay down in her bed and knew the great moment was at hand. there came a knock upon the door, and a servant told her that colonel durrance was waiting. "yes," she said, and as he entered the room she went forward to meet him. she did not shirk the part which she had allotted to herself. she stepped out from the secret chamber of her grief as soon as she was summoned. she talked with her visitor as though no unusual thing had happened an hour before, she even talked of their marriage and the rebuilding of lennon house. it was difficult, but she had grown used to difficulties. only that night durrance made her path a little harder to tread. he asked her, after the maid had brought in the tea, to play to him the musoline overture upon her violin. "not to-night," said ethne. "i am rather tired." and she had hardly spoken before she changed her mind. ethne was determined that in the small things as well as in the great she must not shirk. the small things with their daily happenings were just those about which she must be most careful. "still i think that i can play the overture," she said with a smile, and she took down her violin. she played the overture through from the beginning to the end. durrance stood at the window with his back towards her until she had ended. then he walked to her side. "i was rather a brute," he said quietly, "to ask you to play that overture to-night." "i wasn't anxious to play," she answered as she laid the violin aside. "i know. but i was anxious to find out something, and i knew no other way of finding it out." ethne turned up to him a startled face. "what do you mean?" she asked in a voice of suspense. "you are so seldom off your guard. only indeed at rare times when you play. once before when you played that overture you were off your guard. i thought that if i could get you to play it again to-night--the overture which was once strummed out in a dingy café at wadi halfa--to-night again i should find you off your guard." his words took her breath away and the colour from her cheeks. she got up slowly from her chair and stared at him wide-eyed. he could not know. it was impossible. he did not know. but durrance went quietly on. "well? did you take back your feather? the fourth one?" these to ethne were the incredible words. durrance spoke them with a smile upon his face. it took her a long time to understand that he had actually spoken them. she was not sure at the first that her overstrained senses were not playing her tricks; but he repeated his question, and she could no longer disbelieve or misunderstand. "who told you of any fourth feather?" she asked. "trench," he answered. "i met him at dover. but he only told me of the fourth feather," said durrance. "i knew of the three before. trench would never have told me of the fourth had i not known of the three. for i should not have met him as he landed from the steamer at dover. i should not have asked him, 'where is harry feversham?' and for me to know of the three was enough." "how do you know?" she cried in a kind of despair, and coming close to her he took gently hold of her arm. "but since i know," he protested, "what does it matter how i know? i have known a long while, ever since captain willoughby came to the pool with the first feather. i waited to tell you that i knew until harry feversham came back, and he came to-day." ethne sat down in her chair again. she was stunned by durrance's unexpected disclosure. she had so carefully guarded her secret, that to realise that for a year it had been no secret came as a shock to her. but, even in the midst of her confusion, she understood that she must have time to gather up her faculties again under command. so she spoke of the unimportant thing to gain the time. "you were in the church, then? or you heard us upon the steps? or you met--him as he rode away?" "not one of the conjectures is right," said durrance, with a smile. ethne had hit upon the right subject to delay the statement of the decision to which she knew very well that he had come. durrance had his vanities like others; and in particular one vanity which had sprung up within him since he had become blind. he prided himself upon the quickness of his perception. it was a delight to him to make discoveries which no one expected a man who had lost his sight to make, and to announce them unexpectedly. it was an additional pleasure to relate to his puzzled audience the steps by which he had reached his discovery. "not one of your conjectures is right, ethne," he said, and he practically asked her to question him. "then how did you find out?" she asked. "i knew from trench that harry feversham would come some day, and soon. i passed the church this afternoon. your collie dog barked at me. so i knew you were inside. but a saddled horse was tied up beside the gate. so some one else was with you, and not any one from the village. then i got you to play, and that told me who it was who rode the horse." "yes," said ethne, vaguely. she had barely listened to his words. "yes, i see." then in a definite voice, which showed that she had regained all her self-control, she said:-- "you went away to wiesbaden for a year. you went away just after captain willoughby came. was that the reason why you went away?" "i went because neither you nor i could have kept up the game of pretences we were playing. you were pretending that you had no thought for harry feversham, that you hardly cared whether he was alive or dead. i was pretending not to have found out that beyond everything in the world you cared for him. some day or other we should have failed, each one in turn. i dared not fail, nor dared you. i could not let you, who had said 'two lives must not be spoilt because of me,' live through a year thinking that two lives had been spoilt. you on your side dared not let me, who had said 'marriage between a blind man and a woman is only possible when there is more than friendship on both sides,' know that upon one side there was only friendship, and we were so near to failing. so i went away." "you did not fail," said ethne, quietly; "it was only i who failed." she blamed herself most bitterly. she had set herself, as the one thing worth doing, and incumbent on her to do, to guard this man from knowledge which would set the crown on his calamities, and she had failed. he had set himself to protect her from the comprehension that she had failed, and he had succeeded. it was not any mere sense of humiliation, due to the fact that the man whom she had thought to hoodwink had hoodwinked her, which troubled her. but she felt that she ought to have succeeded, since by failure she had robbed him of his last chance of happiness. there lay the sting for her. "but it was not your fault," he said. "once or twice, as i said, you were off your guard, but the convincing facts were not revealed to me in that way. when you played the musoline overture before, on the night of the day when willoughby brought you such good news, i took to myself that happiness of yours which inspired your playing. you must not blame yourself. on the contrary, you should be glad that i have found out." "glad!" she exclaimed. "yes, for my sake, glad." and as she looked at him in wonderment he went on: "two lives should not be spoilt because of you. had you had your way, had i not found out, not two but three lives would have been spoilt because of you--because of your loyalty." "three?" "yours. yes--yes, yours, feversham's, and mine. it was hard enough to keep the pretence during the few weeks we were in devonshire. own to it, ethne! when i went to london to see my oculist it was a relief; it gave you a pause, a rest wherein to drop pretence and be yourself. it could not have lasted long even in devonshire. but what when we came to live under the same roof, and there were no visits to the oculist, when we saw each other every hour of every day? sooner or later the truth must have come to me. it might have come gradually, a suspicion added to a suspicion and another to that until no doubt was left. or it might have flashed out in one terrible moment. but it would have been made clear. and then, ethne? what then? you aimed at a compensation; you wanted to make up to me for the loss of what i love--my career, the army, the special service in the strange quarters of the world. a fine compensation to sit in front of you knowing you had married a cripple out of pity, and that in so doing you had crippled yourself and foregone the happiness which is yours by right. whereas now--" "whereas now?" she repeated. "i remain your friend, which i would rather be than your unloved husband," he said very gently. ethne made no rejoinder. the decision had been taken out of her hands. "you sent harry away this afternoon," said durrance. "you said good-bye to him twice." at the "twice" ethne raised her head, but before she could speak durrance explained:-- "once in the church, again upon your violin," and he took up the instrument from the chair on which she had laid it. "it has been a very good friend, your violin," he said. "a good friend to me, to us all. you will understand that, ethne, very soon. i stood at the window while you played it. i had never heard anything in my life half so sad as your farewell to harry feversham, and yet it was nobly sad. it was true music, it did not complain." he laid the violin down upon the chair again. "i am going to send a messenger to rathmullen. harry cannot cross lough swilly to-night. the messenger will bring him back to-morrow." it had been a day of many emotions and surprises for ethne. as durrance bent down towards her, he became aware that she was crying silently. for once tears had their way with her. he took his cap and walked noiselessly to the door of the room. as he opened it, ethne got up. "don't go for a moment," she said, and she left the fireplace and came to the centre of the room. "the oculist at wiesbaden?" she asked. "he gave you a hope?" durrance stood meditating whether he should lie or speak the truth. "no," he said at length. "there is no hope. but i am not so helpless as at one time i was afraid that i should be. i can get about, can't i? perhaps one of these days i shall go on a journey, one of the long journeys amongst the strange people in the east." he went from the house upon his errand. he had learned his lesson a long time since, and the violin had taught it him. it had spoken again that afternoon, and though with a different voice, had offered to him the same message. the true music cannot complain. chapter xxxiv the end in the early summer of next year two old men sat reading their newspapers after breakfast upon the terrace of broad place. the elder of the two turned over a sheet. "i see osman digna's back at suakin," said he. "there's likely to be some fighting." "oh," said the other, "he will not do much harm." and he laid down his paper. the quiet english country-side vanished from before his eyes. he saw only the white city by the red sea shimmering in the heat, the brown plains about it with their tangle of halfa grass, and in the distance the hills towards khor gwob. "a stuffy place suakin, eh, sutch?" said general feversham. "appallingly stuffy. i heard of an officer who went down on parade at six o'clock of the morning there, sunstruck in the temples right through a regulation helmet. yes, a town of dank heat! but i was glad to be there--very glad," he said with some feeling. "yes," said feversham, briskly; "ibex, eh?" "no," replied sutch. "all the ibex had been shot off by the english garrison for miles round." "no? something to do, then. that's it?" "yes, that's it, feversham. something to do." and both men busied themselves again over their papers. but in a little while a footman brought to each a small pile of letters. general feversham ran over his envelopes with a quick eye, selected one letter, and gave a grunt of satisfaction. he took a pair of spectacles from a case and placed them upon his nose. "from ramelton?" asked sutch, dropping his newspaper on to the terrace. "from ramelton," answered feversham. "i'll light a cigar first." he laid the letter down on the garden table which stood between his companion and himself, drew a cigar-case from his pocket, and in spite of the impatience of lieutenant sutch, proceeded to cut and light it with the utmost deliberation. the old man had become an epicure in this respect. a letter from ramelton was a luxury to be enjoyed with all the accessories of comfort which could be obtained. he made himself comfortable in his chair, stretched out his legs, and smoked enough of his cigar to assure himself that it was drawing well. then he took up his letter again and opened it. "from him?" asked sutch. "no; from her." "ah!" general feversham read the letter through slowly, while lieutenant sutch tried not to peep at it across the table. when the general had finished he turned back to the first page, and began it again. "any news?" said sutch, with a casual air. "they are very pleased with the house now that it's rebuilt." "anything more?" "yes. harry's finished the sixth chapter of his history of the war." "good!" said sutch. "you'll see, he'll do that well. he has imagination, he knows the ground, he was present while the war went on. moreover, he was in the bazaars, he saw the under side of it." "yes. but you and i won't read it, sutch," said feversham. "no; i am wrong. you may, for you can give me a good many years." he turned back to his letter and again sutch asked:-- "anything more?" "yes. they are coming here in a fortnight." "good," said sutch. "i shall stay." he took a turn along the terrace and came back. he saw feversham sitting with the letter upon his knees and a frown of great perplexity upon his face. "you know, sutch, i never understood," he said. "did you?" "yes, i think i did." sutch did not try to explain. it was as well, he thought, that feversham never would understand. for he could not understand without much self-reproach. "do you ever see durrance?" asked the general, suddenly. "yes, i see a good deal of durrance. he is abroad just now." feversham turned towards his friend. "he came to broad place when you went to suakin, and talked to me for half an hour. he was harry's best man. well, that too i never understood. did you?" "yes, i understood that as well." "oh!" said general feversham. he asked for no explanations, but, as he had always done, he took the questions which he did not understand and put them aside out of his thoughts. but he did not turn to his other letters. he sat smoking his cigar, and looked out across the summer country and listened to the sounds rising distinctly from the fields. sutch had read through all of his correspondence before feversham spoke again. "i have been thinking," he said. "have you noticed the date of the month, sutch?" and sutch looked up quickly. "yes," said he, "this day next week will be the anniversary of our attack upon the redan, and harry's birthday." "exactly," replied feversham. "why shouldn't we start the crimean nights again?" sutch jumped up from his chair. "splendid!" he cried. "can we muster a tableful, do you think?" "let's see," said feversham, and ringing a handbell upon the table, sent the servant for the army list. bending over that army list the two veterans may be left. but of one other figure in this story a final word must be said. that night, when the invitations had been sent out from broad place, and no longer a light gleamed from any window of the house, a man leaned over the rail of a steamer anchored at port said and listened to the song of the arab coolies as they tramped up and down the planks with their coal baskets between the barges and the ship's side. the clamour of the streets of the town came across the water to his ears. he pictured to himself the flare of braziers upon the quays, the lighted port-holes, and dark funnels ahead and behind in the procession of the anchored ships. attended by a servant, he had come back to the east again. early the next morning the steamer moved through the canal, and towards the time of sunset passed out into the chills of the gulf of suez. kassassin, tel-el-kebir, tamai, tamanieb, the attack upon mcneil's zareeba--durrance lived again through the good years of his activity, the years of plenty. within that country on the west the long preparations were going steadily forward which would one day roll up the dervish empire and crush it into dust. upon the glacis of the ruined fort of sinkat, durrance had promised himself to take a hand in that great work, but the desert which he loved had smitten and cast him out. but at all events the boat steamed southwards into the red sea. three nights more, and though he would not see it, the southern cross would lift slantwise into the sky. * * * * * by a. e. w. mason the courtship of maurice buckler _a romance_ being a record of the growth of an english gentleman, during the years of - , under strange and difficult circumstances, written some while afterward in his own hand, and now edited by a. e. w. mason philadelphia evening bulletin: in spirit and color it reminds us of the very remarkable books of mr. conon doyle. the author has measurably caught the fascinating diction of the seventeenth century, and the strange adventures with which the story is filled are of a sufficiently perilous order to entertain the most homeric mind. boston courier: in this elaborately ingenious narrative the adventures recorded are various and exciting enough to suit the most exacting reader. the incidents recited are of extreme interest, and are not drawn out into noticeable tenuity. the outlook: "the courtship of maurice buckler" is not only full of action and stimulating to curiosity, but tells a quite original plot in a clever way. perhaps in its literary kinship it approaches more closely to "the prisoner of zenda" than to any other recent novel, but there is no evidence of imitation; the resemblance is in the spirit and dash of the narrative. the merit of this story is not solely in its grasp on the reader's attention and its exciting situations; it is written in excellent english, the dialogue is natural and brisk, the individual characters stand out clearly, and the flavor of the time is well preserved. none [transcriber's note: henryk sienkiewicz ( - ), _in desert and wilderness_ ( ), edition. the original title is: w pustyni i w puszczy. there was also a french edition: le gouffre noir.] in desert and wilderness by henryk sienkiewicz author of "with fire and sword," "quo vadis," "whirlpools," etc. _translated from the polish by_ max a. drezmal boston little, brown, and company _copyright_, , by little, brown, and company. _all rights reserved_ printers s. j. parkbill & co., boston, u.s.a. part first in desert and wilderness i "do you know, nell," said stas tarkowski to his friend, a little english girl, "that yesterday the police came and arrested the wife of smain, the overseer, and her three children,--that fatma who several times called at the office to see your father and mine." and little nell, resembling a beautiful picture, raised her greenish eyes to stas and asked with mingled surprise and fright: "did they take her to prison?" "no, but they will not let her go to the sudân and an official has arrived who will see that she does not move a step out of port said." "why?" stas, who was fourteen years old and who loved his eight-year-old companion very much, but looked upon her as a mere child, said with a conceited air: "when you reach my age, you will know everything which happens, not only along the canal from port said to suez, but in all egypt. have you ever heard of the mahdi?" "i heard that he is ugly and naughty." the boy smiled compassionately. "i do not know whether he is ugly. the sudânese claim that he is handsome. but the word 'naughty' about a man who has murdered so many people, could be used only by a little girl, eight years old, in dresses--oh--reaching the knees." "papa told me so and papa knows best." "he told you so because otherwise you would not understand. he would not express himself to me in that way. the mahdi is worse than a whole shoal of crocodiles. do you understand? that is a nice expression for me. 'naughty!' they talk that way to babes." but, observing the little girl's clouded face, he became silent and afterwards said: "nell, you know i did not want to cause you any unpleasantness. the time will come when you will be fourteen. i certainly promise you that." "aha!" she replied with a worried look, "but if before that time the mahdi should dash into port said and eat me." "the mahdi is not a cannibal, so he does not eat people. he only kills them. he will not dash into port said, but even if he did and wanted to murder you, he would first have to do with me." this declaration with the sniff with which stas inhaled the air through his nose, did not bode any good for the mahdi and considerably quieted nell as to her own person. "i know," she answered, "you would not let him harm me. but why do they not allow fatma to leave port said?" "because fatma is a cousin of the mahdi. her husband, smain, made an offer to the egyptian government at cairo to go to the sudân, where the mahdi is staying, and secure the liberty of all europeans who have fallen into his hands." "then smain is a good man?" "wait! your papa and my papa, who knew smain thoroughly, did not have any confidence in him and warned nubar pasha not to trust him. but the government agreed to send smain and smain remained over half a year with the mahdi. the prisoners not only did not return, but news has come from khartûm that the mahdists are treating them more and more cruelly, and that smain, having taken money from the government, has become a traitor. he joined the mahdi's army and has been appointed an emir. the people say that in that terrible battle in which general hicks fell, smain commanded the mahdi's artillery and that he probably taught the mahdists how to handle the cannon, which before that time they, as savage people, could not do. but now smain is anxious to get his wife and children out of egypt. so when fatma, who evidently knew in advance what smain was going to do, wanted secretly to leave port said, the government arrested her with the children." "but what good are fatma and her children to the government?" "the government will say to the mahdi,--'give us the prisoners and we will surrender fatma'--" for the time the conversation was interrupted because the attention of stas was attracted by birds flying from the direction of echtum om farag towards lake menzaleh. they flew quite low and in the clear atmosphere could be plainly seen some pelicans with curved napes, slowly moving immense wings. stas at once began to imitate their flight. so with head upraised, he ran a score of paces along the dyke, waving his outstretched arms. "look!" suddenly exclaimed nell. "flamingoes are also flying." stas stood still in a moment, as actually behind the pelicans, but somewhat higher, could be seen, suspended in the sky, two great red and purple flowers, as it were. "flamingoes! flamingoes! before night they return to their haunts on the little islands," the boy said. "oh, if i only had a rifle!" "why should you want to shoot at them?" "girls don't understand such things. but let us go farther; we may see more of them." saying this he took the girl's hand and together they strolled towards the first wharf beyond port said. dinah, a negress and at one time nurse of little nell, closely followed them. they walked on the embankment which separated the waters of lake menzaleh from the canal, through which at that time a big english steamer, in charge of a pilot, floated. the night was approaching. the sun still stood quite high but was rolling in the direction of the lake. the salty waters of the latter began to glitter with gold and throb with the reflection of peacock feathers. on the arabian bank as far as the eye could reach, stretched a tawny, sandy desert--dull, portentous, lifeless. between the glassy, as if half-dead, heaven and the immense, wrinkled sands there was not a trace of a living being. while on the canal life seethed, boats bustled about, the whistles of steamers resounded, and above menzaleh flocks of mews and wild ducks scintillated in the sunlight, yonder, on the arabian bank, it appeared as if it were the region of death. only in proportion as the sun, descending, became ruddier and ruddier did the sands begin to assume that lily hue which the heath in polish forests has in autumn. the children, walking towards the wharf, saw a few more flamingoes, which pleased their eyes. after this dinah announced that nell must return home. in egypt, after days which even in winter are often scorching, very cold nights follow, and as nell's health demanded great care, her father, mr. rawlinson, would not allow her to be near the water after sunset. they, therefore, returned to the city, on the outskirts of which, near the canal, stood mr. rawlinson's villa, and by the time the sun plunged into the sea they were in the house. soon, the engineer tarkowski, stas' father, who was invited to dinner arrived, and the whole company, together with a french lady, nell's teacher, madame olivier, sat at the table. mr. rawlinson, one of the directors of the suez canal company, and ladislaus tarkowski, senior engineer of the same company, lived for many years upon terms of the closest intimacy. both were widowers, but pani tarkowski, by birth a french lady, died at the time stas came into the world, while nell's mother died of consumption in helwan when the girl was three years old. both widowers lived in neighboring houses in port said, and owing to their duties met daily. a common misfortune drew them still closer to each other and strengthened the ties of friendship previously formed. mr. rawlinson loved stas as his own son, while pan tarkowski would have jumped into fire and water for little nell. after finishing their daily work the most agreeable recreation for them was to talk about the children, their education and future. during such conversations it frequently happened that mr. rawlinson would praise the ability, energy, and bravery of stas and pan tarkowski would grow enthusiastic over the sweetness and angelic countenance of nell. and the one and the other spoke the truth. stas was a trifle conceited and a trifle boastful, but diligent in his lessons, and the teachers in the english school in port said, which he attended, credited him with uncommon abilities. as to courage and resourcefulness, he inherited them from his father, for pan tarkowski possessed these qualities in an eminent degree and in a large measure owed to them his present position. in the year he fought for eleven months without cessation. afterwards, wounded, taken into captivity, and condemned to siberia, he escaped from the interior of russia and made his way to foreign lands. before he entered into the insurrection he was a qualified engineer; nevertheless he devoted a year to the study of hydraulics. later he secured a position at the canal and in the course of a few years, when his expert knowledge, energy, and industry became known, he assumed the important position of senior engineer. stas was born, bred, and reached his fourteenth year in port said on the canal; in consequence of which the engineers called him the child of the desert. at a later period, when he was attending school, he sometimes, during the vacation season and holidays, accompanied his father or mr. rawlinson on trips, which their duty required them to make from port said to suez to inspect the work on the embankment or the dredging of the channel of the canal. he knew everybody--the engineers and custom-house officials as well as the laborers, arabs and negroes. he bustled about and insinuated himself everywhere, appearing where least expected; he made long excursions on the embankment, rowed in a boat over menzaleh, venturing at times far and wide. he crossed over to the arabian bank and mounting the first horse he met, or in the absence of a horse, a camel, or even a donkey, he would imitate farys* [* farys, the hero of adam mickiewicz's oriental poem of the same name.--_translator's note_.] on the desert; in a word, as pan tarkowski expressed it, "he was always popping up somewhere," and every moment free from his studies he passed on the water. his father did not oppose this, as he knew that rowing, horseback riding, and continual life in the fresh air strengthened his health and developed resourcefulness within him. in fact, stas was taller and stronger than most boys of his age. it was enough to glance at his eyes to surmise that in case of any adventure he would sin more from too much audacity than from timidity. in his fourteenth year, he was one of the best swimmers in port said, which meant not a little, for the arabs and negroes swim like fishes. shooting from carbines of a small caliber, and only with cartridges, for wild ducks and egyptian geese, he acquired an unerring eye and steady hand. his dream was to hunt the big animals sometime in central africa. he therefore eagerly listened to the narratives of the sudânese working on the canal, who in their native land had encountered big, thick-skinned, and rapacious beasts. this also had its advantage, for at the same time he learned their languages. it was not enough to excavate the suez canal; it was necessary also to maintain it, as otherwise the sands of the deserts, lying on both banks, would fill it up in the course of a year. the grand work of de lesseps demands continual labor and vigilance. so, too, at the present day, powerful machines, under the supervision of skilled engineers, and thousands of laborers are at work, dredging the channel. at the excavation of the canal, twenty-five thousand men labored. to-day, owing to the completion of the work and improved new machinery, considerably less are required. nevertheless, the number is great. among them the natives of the locality predominate. there is not, however, a lack of nubians, sudânese, somalis, and various negroes coming from the white and blue niles, that is, from the region which previous to the mahdi's insurrection was occupied by the egyptian government. stas lived with all on intimate terms and having, as is usual with poles, an extraordinary aptitude for languages he became, he himself not knowing how and when, acquainted with many of their dialects. born in egypt, he spoke arabian like an arab. from the natives of zanzibar, many of whom worked as firemen on the steam dredges, he learned kiswahili, a language widely prevalent all over central africa. he could even converse with the negroes of the dinka and shilluk tribes, residing on the nile below fashoda. besides this, he spoke fluently english, french, and also polish, for his father, an ardent patriot, was greatly concerned that his son should know the language of his forefathers. stas in reality regarded this language as the most beautiful in the world and taught it, not without some success, to little nell. one thing only he could not accomplish, that she should pronounce his name stas, and not "stes." sometimes, on account of this, a misunderstanding arose between them, which continued until small tears began to glisten in the eyes of the girl. then "stes" would beg her pardon and became angry at himself. he had, however, an annoying habit of speaking slightingly of her eight years and citing by way of contrast his own grave age and experience. he contended that a boy who is finishing his fourteenth year, if he is not fully matured, at least is not a mere child, but on the contrary, is capable of performing all kinds of heroic deeds, especially if he has polish and french blood. he craved most ardently that sometime an opportunity would occur for such deeds, particularly in defense of nell. both invented various dangers and stas was compelled to answer her questions as to what he would do if, for instance, a crocodile, ten yards long, or a scorpion as big as a dog, should crawl through the window of her home. to both it never occurred for a moment that impending reality would surpass all their fantastic suppositions. ii in the meantime, in the house, good news awaited them during the dinner. messrs. rawlinson and tarkowski, as skilled engineers, had been invited a few weeks before, to examine and appraise the work carried on in connection with the whole net-work of canals in the province of el-fayûm, in the vicinity of the city of medinet near lake karûn, as well as along the yûsuf and nile rivers. they were to stay there for about a month and secured furloughs from their company. as the christmas holidays were approaching, both gentlemen, not desiring to be separated from the children, decided that stas and nell should also go to medinet. hearing this news the children almost leaped out of their skins from joy. they had already visited the cities lying along the canal, particularly ismailia and suez, and while outside the canal, alexandria and cairo, near which they viewed the great pyramids and the sphinx. but these were short trips, while the expedition to medinet el-fayûm required a whole day's travel by railway, southward along the nile and then westward from el-wasta towards the libyan desert. stas knew medinet from the narratives of younger engineers and tourists who went there to hunt for various kinds of water-fowls as well as desert wolves and hyenas. he knew that it was a separate, great oasis lying off the west bank of the nile but not dependent upon its inundations and having its water system formed by lake karûn through bahr yûsuf and a whole chain of small canals. those who had seen this oasis said that although that region belonged to egypt, nevertheless, being separated from it by a desert, it formed a distinct whole. only the yûsuf river connects, one might say with a thin blue thread, that locality with the valley of the nile. the great abundance of water, fertility of soil, and luxuriant vegetation made an earthly paradise of it, while the extensive ruins of the city of crocodilopolis drew thither hundreds of curious tourists. stas, however, was attracted mainly by the shores of lake karûn, with its swarms of birds and its wolf-hunts on the desert hills of gebel el-sedment. but his vacation began a few days later, and as the inspection of the work on the canals was an urgent matter and the gentlemen could not lose any time, it was arranged that they should leave without delay, while the children, with madame olivier, were to depart a week later. nell and stas had a desire to leave at once, but stas did not dare to make the request. instead they began to ask questions about various matters relative to the journey, and with new outbursts of joy received the news that they would not live in uncomfortable hotels kept by greeks, but in tents furnished by the cook tourists' agency. this is the customary arrangement of tourists who leave cairo for a lengthy stay at medinet. cook furnishes tents, servants, cooks, supplies of provisions, horses, donkeys, camels, and guides; so the tourist does not have to bother about anything. this, indeed, is quite an expensive mode of traveling; but messrs. tarkowski and rawlinson did not have to take that into account as all expenses were borne by the egyptian government, which invited them, as experts, to inspect and appraise the work on the canals. nell, who, above everything in the world, loved riding on a camel, obtained a promise from her father that she should have a separate "hump-backed saddle horse" on which, together with madame olivier, or dinah, and sometimes with stas, she could participate in the excursions to the nearer localities of the desert and to karun. pan tarkowski promised stas that he would allow him some nights to go after wolves, and if he brought a good report from school he would get a genuine english short rifle and the necessary equipment for a hunter. as stas was confident that he would succeed, he at once began to regard himself as the owner of a short rifle and promised himself to perform various astonishing and immortal feats with it. on such projects and conversation the dinner passed for the overjoyed children. but somewhat less eagerness for the contemplated journey was displayed by madame olivier who was loath to leave the comfortable villa in port said and who was frightened at the thought of living for several weeks in a tent, and particularly at the plan of excursions on camel-back. it happened that she had already tried this mode of riding several times and these attempts ended unfortunately. once the camel rose too soon, before she was well seated in the saddle, and as a result she rolled off his back onto the ground. another time, the dromedary, not belonging to the light-footed variety, jolted her so that two days elapsed before she recovered; in a word, although nell, after two or three pleasure-rides which mr. rawlinson permitted her to take, declared that there was nothing more delightful in the world, in the same measure only painful recollections remained for madame olivier. she said that this was good enough for arabs or for a chit like nell, who could not be jolted any more than a fly which should alight upon a camel's hump, but not for persons dignified, and not too light, and having at the same time a certain proneness to unbearable sea-sickness. but as to medinet el-fayûm she had other fears. now in port said as well as in alexandria, cairo, and in the whole of egypt nothing was the subject of more discussion than the mahdi's insurrection and the cruelties of the dervishes. madame olivier, not knowing exactly where medinet was situated, became alarmed as to whether it was not too near the mahdists, and finally began to question mr. rawlinson about it. but he only smiled and said: "the mahdi at this moment is besieging khartûm in which general gordon is defending himself. does madame know how far it is from medinet to khartûm?" "i have no idea." "about as far as from here to sicily," explained pan tarkowski. "just about," corroborated stas. "khartûm lies where the white and blue niles meet and form one river. we are separated from it by the immense expanse of egypt and the whole of nubia." afterwards he wanted to add that even if medinet should be closer to the regions overrun by the insurgents, he, of course, would be there with his short rifle; but recalling that for similar bragging he sometimes received a sharp reproof from his father, he became silent. the older members of the party, however, began to talk of the mahdi and the insurrection, for this was the most important matter affecting egypt. the news from khartûm was bad. the wild hordes already had been besieging the city for a month and a half and the egyptian and english governments were acting slowly. the relief expedition had barely started and it was generally feared that notwithstanding the fame, bravery, and ability of gordon this important city would fall into the hands of the barbarians. this was the opinion of pan tarkowski, who suspected that england in her soul desired that the mahdi should wrest it from egypt in order to retake it later from him and make this vast region an english possession. he did not, however, share this suspicion with mr. rawlinson as he did not want to offend his patriotic feelings. towards the close of the dinner stas began to ask why the egyptian government had annexed all the country lying south of nubia, particularly kordofân, darfur, and the sudân as far as lake albert nyanza and deprived the natives there of their liberty. mr. rawlinson explained that whatever was done by the egyptian government was done at the request of england which extended a protectorate over egypt and in reality ruled her as egypt herself desired. "the egyptian government did not deprive anybody of his liberty," he said, "but restored it to hundreds of thousands and perhaps to millions of people. in kordofân, in darfur and in the sudân there were not during the past years any independent states. only here and there some petty ruler laid claim to some lands and took possession of them by force in spite of the will of the residents. they were mainly inhabited by independent arab-negro tribes, that is, by people having the blood of both races. these tribes lived in a state of incessant warfare. they attacked each other and seized horses, camels, cattle, and, above all, slaves; besides, they perpetrated numerous atrocities. but the worst were the ivory and slave hunters. they formed a separate class, to which belonged nearly all the chiefs of the tribes and the richer traders. they made armed expeditions into the interior of africa, appropriating everywhere ivory tusks, and carried away thousands of people: men, women, and children. in addition they destroyed villages and settlements, devastated fields, shed streams of blood, and slaughtered without pity all who resisted. in the southern portion of the sudân, darfur, and kordofân, as well as the region beyond the upper nile as far as the lake they depopulated some localities entirely. but the arabian bands made their incursions farther and farther so that central africa became a land of tears and blood. now england which, as you know, pursues slave-dealers all over the world, consented that the egyptian government should annex kordofân, darfur, and the sudân. this was the only method to compel these pillagers to abandon their abominable trade and the only way to hold them in restraint. the unfortunate negroes breathed more freely; the depredations ceased and the people began to live under tolerable laws. but such a state of affairs did not please the traders, so when mohammed ahmed, known to-day as 'the mahdi,' appeared among them and proclaimed a holy war on the pretext that the true faith of mahomet was perishing, all rushed like one man to arms; and so that terrible war has been kindled in which thus far the egyptians have met with such poor success. the mahdi has defeated the forces of the government in every battle. he has occupied kordofân, darfur, and the sudân; his hordes at present are laying a siege to khartûm and are advancing to the north as far as the frontiers of nubia." "can they advance as far as egypt?" asked stas. "no," answered mr. rawlinson. "the mahdi announces, indeed, that he will conquer the whole world, but he is a wild man who has no conception of anything. he never will take egypt, as england would not permit it." "if, however, the egyptian troops are completely routed?" "then would appear the english armies which no one has ever overcome." "and why did england permit the mahdi to occupy so much territory?" "how do you know that she has permitted it?" replied mr. rawlinson. "england is never in a hurry because she is eternal." further conversation was interrupted by a negro servant, who announced that fatma smain had arrived and begged for an audience. women in the east are occupied exclusively with household affairs and seldom leave the harems. only the poorer ones go to the market or work in the fields, as the wives of the fellahs, the egyptian peasants, do; but these at such times veil their faces. though in the sudân, from which region fatma came, this custom was not observed, and though she had come to mr. rawlinson's office previously, nevertheless, her arrival, particularly at such a late hour and at a private house, evoked surprise. "we shall learn something new about smain," said pan tarkowski. "yes," answered mr. rawlinson, giving at the same time a signal to the servant to usher fatma in. accordingly, after a while there entered a tall, young sudânese woman with countenance entirely unveiled, complexion very dark, and eyes beautiful but wild, and a trifle ominous. entering, she at once prostrated herself, and when mr. rawlinson ordered her to rise, she raised herself but remained on her knees. "sidi," she said, "may allah bless thee, thy posterity, thy home, and thy flocks!" "what do you want?" asked the engineer. "mercy, help, and succor in misfortune, oh, sir! i am imprisoned in port said and destruction hangs over me and my children." "you say that you are imprisoned, and yet you could come here, and in the night-time at that." "i have been escorted by the police who day and night watch my house, and i know that they have an order to cut off our heads soon!" "speak like a rational woman," answered mr. rawlinson, shrugging his shoulders. "you are not in the sudân, but in egypt where no one is executed without a trial. so you may be certain that not a hair will fall from your head or the heads of your children." but she began to implore him to intercede for her yet once more with the government, to procure permission for her to go to smain. "englishmen as great as you are, sir," she said, "can do everything. the government in cairo thinks that smain is a traitor, but that is false. there visited me yesterday arabian merchants, who arrived from suâkin, and before that they bought gums and ivory in the sudân, and they informed me that smain is lying sick at el-fasher and is calling for me and the children to bless them--" "all this is your fabrication, fatma," interrupted mr. rawlinson. but she began to swear by allah that she spoke the truth, and afterwards said that if smain got well, he undoubtedly would ransom all the christian captives; and if he should die, she, as a relative of the leader of the dervishes, could obtain access to him easily and would secure whatever she wished. let them only allow her to leave, for her heart will leap out of her bosom from longing for her husband. in what had she, ill-fated woman, offended the government or the khedive? was it her fault or could she be held accountable because she was the relative of the dervish, mohammed ahmed? fatma did not dare in the presence of the "english people" to call her relative "the mahdi," as that meant the redeemer of the world. she knew that the egyptian government regarded him as a rebel and an imposter. but continually striking her forehead and invoking heaven to witness her innocence and unhappy plight, she began to weep and at the same time wail mournfully as women in the east do after losing husbands or sons. afterwards she again flung herself with face on the ground, or rather on the carpet with which the inlaid floor was covered, and waited in silence. nell, who towards the close of the dinner felt a little sleepy, became thoroughly aroused and, having an upright little heart, seized her father's hand, and kissing it again and again, began to beg for fatma. "let papa help her! do please, papa!" fatma, evidently understanding english, exclaimed amidst her sobs, not removing her face from the carpet: "may allah bless thee, bird of paradise, with the joys of omayya, oh, star without a blemish!" however implacable stas in his soul was towards the mahdists, he was moved by fatma's entreaties and grief. besides, nell interceded for her and he in the end always wanted that which nell wished. so after a while he spoke out, as if to himself but so that all could hear him: "if i were the government, i would allow fatma to go." "but as you are not the government," pan tarkowski said to him, "you would do better not to interfere in that which does not concern you." mr. rawlinson also had a compassionate soul and was sensible of fatma's situation, but certain statements which she made struck him as being downright falsehoods. having almost daily relations with the custom-house at ismailia, he well knew that no new cargoes of gums or ivory were being transported lately through the canal. the trade in those wares had ceased almost entirely. arabian traders, moreover, could not return from the city of el-fasher which lay in the sudân, as the mahdists, as a rule, barred all traders from their territories, and those whom they captured were despoiled and kept in captivity. and it was almost a certainty that the statement about smain's sickness was a falsehood. but as nell's little eyes were still looking at her papa appealingly, he, not desiring to sadden the little girl, after a while said to fatma: "fatma, i already have written at your request to the government, but without result. and now listen. to-morrow, with this mehendis (engineer) whom you see here, i leave for medinet el-fayûm; on the way we shall stop one day in cairo, for the khedive desires to confer with us about the canals leading from bahr yûsuf and give us a commission as to the same. during the conference i shall take care to present your case and try to secure for you his favor. but i can do nothing more, nor shall i promise more." fatma rose and, extending both hands in sign of gratitude, exclaimed: "and so i am safe." "no, fatma," answered mr. rawlinson, "do not speak of safety for i already told you that death threatens neither you nor your children. but that the khedive will consent to your departure i do not guarantee, for smain is not sick but is a traitor, who, having taken money from the government, does not at all think of ransoming the captives from mohammed ahmed." "smain is innocent, sir, and lies in el-fasher," reiterated fatma, "but if even he broke his faith with the government, i swear before you, my benefactor, that if i am allowed to depart i will entreat mohammed ahmed until i secure the deliverance of your captives." "very well. i promise you once more that i will intercede for you with the khedive." fatma began to prostrate herself. "thank you, sidi! you are not only powerful, but just. and now i entreat that you permit me to serve you as a slave." "in egypt no one can be a slave," answered mr. rawlinson with a smile. "i have enough servants and cannot avail myself of your services; for, as i told you, we all are leaving for medinet and perhaps will remain there until ramazan." "i know, sir, for the overseer, chadigi, told me about that. i, when i heard of it, came not only to implore you for help, but also to tell you that two men of my dongola tribe, idris and gebhr, are camel drivers in medinet and will prostrate themselves before you when you arrive, submitting to your commands themselves and their camels." "good, good," answered the director, "but that is the affair of the cook agency, not mine." fatma, having kissed the hands of the two engineers and the children, departed blessing nell particularly. both gentlemen remained silent for a while, after which mr. rawlinson said: "poor woman! but she lies as only in the east they know how to lie, and even in her declaration of gratitude there is a sound of some false note." "undoubtedly," answered pan tarkowski; "but to tell the truth, whether smain betrayed or did not, the government has no right to detain her in egypt, as she cannot be held responsible for her husband." "the government does not now allow any sudânese to leave for suâkin or nubia without a special permit; so the prohibition does not affect fatma alone. many of them are found in egypt for they come here for gain. among them are some who belong to the dongolese tribe; that is the one from which the mahdi comes. there are, for instance, besides fatma, chadigi and those two camel drivers in medinet. the mahdists call the egyptians turks and are carrying on a war with them, but among the local arabs can be found a considerable number of adherents of the mahdi, who would willingly join him. we must number among them all the fanatics, all the partisans of arabi pasha, and many among the poorer classes. they hold it ill of the government that it yielded entirely to english influence and claim that the religion suffers by it. god knows how many already have escaped across the desert, avoiding the customary sea route to suâkin. so the government, having learned that fatma also wanted to run away, ordered her to be put under surveillance. for her and her children only, as relatives of the mahdi himself, can an exchange of the captives be effected." "do the lower classes in egypt really favor the mahdi?" "the mahdi has followers even in the army, which perhaps for that reason fights so poorly." "but how can the sudânese fly across the desert? why, that is a thousand miles." "nevertheless, by that route slaves were brought into egypt." "i should judge that fatma's children could not endure such a journey." "that is why she wants to shorten it and ride by way of the sea to suâkin." "in any case, she is a poor woman." with this the conversation concluded. twelve hours later "the poor woman," having carefully closeted herself in her house with the son of the overseer chadigi, whispered to him with knitted brows and a grim glance of her beautiful eyes: "chamis, son of chadigi, here is the money. go even to-day to medinet and give to idris this writing, which the devout dervish bellali, at my request, wrote to him. the children of the mehendes are good, but if i do not obtain a permit, then there is no other alternative. i know you will not betray me. remember that you and your father too come from the dongolese tribe in which was born the great mahdi." iii both engineers left the following night for cairo where they were to visit the british minister plenipotentiary and hold an audience with the viceroy. stas calculated that this would require two days, and his calculation appeared accurate, for on the third day at night he received from his father, who was already at medinet, the following message: "the tents are ready. you are to leave the moment your vacation begins. inform fatma through chadigi that we could not accomplish anything for her." a similar message was also received by madame olivier who at once, with the assistance of the negress dinah, began to make preparations for the journey. the sight of these preparations gladdened the hearts of the children. but suddenly an accident occurred which deranged their plans and seemed likely to prevent their journey. on the day on which stas' winter vacation began and on the eve of their departure a scorpion stung madame olivier during her afternoon nap in the garden. these venomous creatures in egypt are not usually very dangerous, but in this case the sting might become exceptionally baleful. the scorpion had crawled onto the head-rest of the linen chair and stung madame olivier in the neck at a moment when she leaned her head against the rest. as she had suffered lately from erysipelas in the face, fear was entertained that the sickness might recur. a physician was summoned at once, but he arrived two hours later as he had engagements elsewhere. the neck and even the face were already swollen, after which fever appeared, with the usual symptoms of poisoning. the physician announced that under the circumstances there could not be any talk of a journey and ordered the patient to bed. in view of this it seemed highly probable that the children would be compelled to pass the christmas holidays at home. in justice to nell it must be stated that in the first moments particularly she thought more of the sufferings of her teacher than of the lost pleasures in medinet. she only wept in corners at the thought of not seeing her father for a few weeks. stas did not accept the accident with the same resignation. he first forwarded a dispatch and afterwards mailed a letter with an inquiry as to what they were to do. the reply came in two days. mr. rawlinson first communicated with the physician; having learned from him that immediate danger was removed and that only a fear of the recurrence of erysipelas prevented madame olivier's departure from port said, he, above all, took precaution that she should have proper care and nursing, and afterwards sent the children permission to travel with dinah. but as dinah, notwithstanding her extreme attachment for nell, was not able to take care of herself on the railways and in the hotels, the duties of guide and paymaster during this trip devolved upon stas. it can easily be understood how proud he was of this role and with what chivalrous spirit he assured little nell that not a hair would fall from her head, as if in reality the road to cairo and to medinet presented any difficulties or dangers. all preparations having been completed, the children started that very day for ismailia by way of the canal. from ismailia they were to travel by rail to cairo, where they were to pass the night. on the following day they were to ride to medinet. leaving ismailia they saw lake timsâh which stas already knew, as pan tarkowski, being an ardent sportsman, in moments free from his duties had taken stas along with him to hunt for aquatic birds. afterwards the road ran along wâdi tûmilât close to the fresh-water canal leading from the nile to ismailia and suez. this canal had been dug before the suez canal, so that the workingmen working on de lesseps' grand achievement would not be deprived entirely of water fit for drinking purposes. but its excavation had yet another fortunate result, for this region, which before was a sterile desert, bloomed anew when through it coursed a strong and life-bringing stream of fresh water. the children could observe on the left side from the windows of the coach a wide belt of verdure composed of meadows on which were pastured horses, camels, and sheep, and of tilled fields, diversified with maize, millet, alfalfa, and other varieties of plants used for fodder. on the bank of the canal could be seen all kinds of wells in the shape of large wheels with buckets attached, or in the usual form of well-sweeps, drawing water, which fellahs laboriously carried to the garden-beds or conveyed in barrels, on wagons drawn by buffaloes. over the sprouting grain pigeons soared, and at times a whole covey of quails sprang up. on the canal banks, storks and cranes gravely stalked. in the distance, above the mud hovels of the fellahs towered, like plumes of feathers, the crowns of date palms. on the other hand, on the north side of the railway there stretched a stark desert, but unlike the one which lay on the other side of the suez canal. that one looked as level as would the bottom of the sea, from which the water had disappeared and only wrinkled sand remained, while here the sand was more yellowish, heaped up as if in great knolls, covered on the sides with tufts of gray vegetation. between those knolls, which here and there changed into high hills, lay wide valleys in which from time to time caravans could be seen moving. from the windows of the car the children could catch sight of heavily loaded camels, walking in a long string, one after another, over the sandy expanse. in front of each camel was an arab in a black mantle, with a white turban on his head. little nell was reminded of the pictures in the bible, which she had seen at home, representing the israelites entering egypt during the times of joseph. they were exactly the same. unfortunately she could not see the caravans very well as at the windows on that side of the car sat two english officers, who obstructed her view. but she had scarcely told this to stas, when he turned to the officers with a very grave mien and, touching his hat with his finger, said: "gentlemen, could you kindly make room for this little miss who wishes to look at the camels?" both officers accepted the suggestion with the same gravity, and one of them not only surrendered his place to the curious miss but lifted her and placed her in a seat near the window. and stas began his lecture: "this is the ancient land of goshen, which pharaoh gave to joseph for his brother israelites. at one time in far antiquity a canal of fresh water ran here so that this new one is but a reconstruction of the old. but later it fell into ruin and the country became a desert. now the soil again is fertile." "how does the gentleman know this?" asked one of the officers. "at my age, we know such things," answered stas; "and besides, not long ago professor sterling gave us a lecture on wâdi tûmilât." though stas spoke english quite fluently, his slightly different accent attracted the attention of the other officer, who asked: "is the little gentleman an englishman?" "miss nell, whose father entrusted her to my care on this journey, is little. i am not an englishman but a pole and the son of an engineer at the canal." the officer, hearing the answer of the pert boy, smiled and said: "i esteem the poles. i belong to a regiment of cavalry, which during the times of napoleon several times fought with the polish uhlans, and that tradition until the present day forms its glory and honor."* [* those regiments of english cavalry which during the times of napoleon met the polish cavalry actually pride themselves with that fact at the present time, and every officer speaking of his regiment never fails to say, "we fought with the poles." see chevrillon, "aux indes."] "i am pleased to form your acquaintance," answered stas. the conversation easily proceeded farther, for the officers were evidently amused. it appeared that both were also riding from port said to cairo to see the british minister plenipotentiary and to receive final instructions for a long journey which soon awaited them. the younger one was an army surgeon, while the one who spoke to stas, captain glenn, had an order from his government to proceed from cairo, via suez, to mombasa and assume the government of the entire region adjoining that port and extending as far as the unknown samburu country. stas, who with deep interest read about travels in africa, knew that mombasa was situated a few degrees beyond the equator and that the adjoining country, though already conceded to be within the sphere of english interests, was yet in truth little known; it was utterly wild, full of elephants, giraffes, rhinoceroses, buffaloes, and all kinds of antelopes, which the military, missionary, and trading expeditions always encountered. he also envied captain glenn with his whole soul and promised to visit him in mombasa and go hunting with him for lions and buffaloes. "good, but i shall invite you to make the visit with that little miss," replied captain glenn, laughing and pointing at nell who at that moment left the window and sat beside him. "miss rawlinson has a father," answered stas, "and i am only her guardian during this journey." at this the other officer turned quickly around and asked: "rawlinson? is he not one of the directors of the canal and has he not a brother in bombay?" "my uncle lives in bombay," answered nell, raising her little finger upwards. "then your uncle, darling, is married to my sister. my name is clary. we are related, and i am really delighted that i met and became acquainted with you, my little dear." and the surgeon was really delighted. he said that immediately after his arrival at port said he inquired for mr. rawlinson, but in the offices of the directory he was informed that he had left for the holidays. he expressed also his regret that the steamer which he with captain glenn was to take for mombasa left suez in a few days, in consequence of which he could not make a hurried visit to medinet. he therefore requested nell to convey his compliments to her father, and promised to write to her from mombasa. both officers now engaged mainly in a conversation with nell, so that stas remained a little on the side. at all stations they had a plentiful supply of mandarin oranges, dates, and exquisite sherbet, and, besides by stas and nell, these dainties were shared by dinah, who with all her good qualities was known for her uncommon gluttony. in this manner the trip to cairo passed quickly for the children. at the leave-taking the officers kissed nell's little hands and face, and squeezed stas' right hand, and at the same time, captain glenn, whom the resolute boy pleased very much, said half-jokingly and half-seriously: "listen, my boy! who knows where, when, and under what circumstances we may yet meet in life. remember, however, that you can always rely upon my good will and assistance." "and you may likewise rely upon me," stas answered with a bow full of dignity. iv pan tarkowski, as well as mr. rawlinson, who loved nell better than his life, was delighted at the arrival of the children. the young pair greeted their parents joyfully, and at once began to look about the tents, which internally were completely fitted up and were ready for the reception of the beloved guests. the tents appeared superb to them; they were double, one was lined with blue and the other with red flannel, overlaid at the bottom with saddle-cloths, and they were as spacious as large rooms. the agency which was concerned about the opinion of the high officials of the canal company had spared no effort for their comfort. at first mr. rawlinson feared that a lengthy stay under tents might prove injurious to nell's health, and if he agreed to the arrangement, it was because they could always move to a hotel in case of bad weather. now, however, having fully investigated everything on the place, he came to the conclusion that days and nights passed in the fresh air would be a hundredfold more beneficial for his only child than a stay in the musty rooms of the small local hotels. beautiful weather favored this. medinet, or rather el-medineh, surrounded by the sandy hills of the libyan desert, has a much better climate than cairo and is not in vain called "the land of roses." owing to its sheltered position and the plentiful moisture in the air, nights there are not so cold as in other parts of egypt, even those lying further south. winter is simply delightful, and from november the greatest development of the vegetation begins. date palms, olive-trees, which on the whole are scarce in egypt, fig, orange, mandarin trees, giant castor-oil plants, pomegranate and various other southern plants cover this delightful oasis as with a forest. the gardens are overflowing, as it were, with a gigantic wave of acacias, elders, and roses, so that at night every breeze carries their intoxicating scent. here one breathes with full breast and "does not wish to die," as the residents of the place say. a similar climate is possessed only by helwan lying on the other side of the nile and considerably farther north, but helwan lacks such luxuriant vegetation. but helwan awoke sad recollections for mr. rawlinson, for there nell's mother had died. for this reason he preferred medinet, and gazing at present at the glowing countenance of the little girl, he promised to himself in his soul soon to purchase here land with a garden; to erect upon it a comfortable english house and spend in these blissful parts all vacations which he could secure, and after finishing his service on the canal, perhaps even to reside here permanently. but these were plans of the distant future and not yet wholly matured. in the meantime the children from the moment of their arrival moved about everywhere like flies, desiring even before dinner to see all the tents as well as the donkeys and camels hired at the place by the cook agency. it appeared that the animals were on a distant pasture and that they could not see them until the morrow. however, near mr. rawlinson's tent they observed with pleasure chamis, the son of chadigi, their good acquaintance in port said. he was not in the employ of cook, and mr. rawlinson was somewhat surprised to meet him in medinet, but as he had previously employed him to carry his implements, he engaged him at present to run errands and perform all other small services. the evening dinner was excellent, as the old copt, who for many years was a cook in the employment of the cook agency, was anxious to display his culinary skill. the children told about the acquaintance they made with the two officers on the way, which was particularly interesting to mr. rawlinson, whose brother richard was married to dr. clary's sister and had resided in india for many years. as it was a childless marriage, this uncle greatly loved his little niece, whom he knew only from photographs, and he had inquired about her in all his letters. both fathers were also amused at the invitation which stas had received from captain glenn to visit mombasa. the boy took it seriously and positively promised himself that sometime he must pay a visit to his new friend beyond the equator. pan tarkowski then had to explain to him that english officials never remain long in the same locality on account of the deadly climate of africa, and that before stas grew up the captain already would hold his tenth position in rotation or would not be on earth at all. after dinner the whole company went out in front of the tents, where the servants placed the cloth folding-chairs, and for the older gentlemen brought a siphon of soda-water with brandy. it was already night but unusually warm; as there happened to be full moon it was as bright as in daytime. the white walls of the city buildings opposite the tents shone greenly; the stars glowed in the sky, and in the air was diffused the scent of roses, acacias, and heliotropes. the city already was asleep. in the silence of the night at times could be heard only the loud cries of cranes, herons, and flamingoes flying from beyond the nile in the direction of lake karûn. suddenly, however, there resounded the deep bass bark of a dog which astonished stas and nell, for it appeared to come from a tent which they had not visited and which was assigned for saddles, implements, and various traveling paraphernalia. "that must be an awfully big dog. let us go and see him," said stas. pan tarkowski began to laugh and mr. rawlinson shook off the ashes of his cigar and said, also laughing: "well, it did not do any good to lock him up." after which he addressed the children: "remember, to-morrow is christmas eve, and that dog was intended by pan tarkowski to be a surprise for nell, but as the surprise has started to bark, i am compelled to announce it to-day." hearing this, nell climbed in a trice on pan tarkowski's knees and embraced his neck and afterwards jumped onto her father's lap. "papa, how happy i am! how happy i am!" of hugs and kisses there was no end. finally nell, finding herself on her own feet, began to gaze in pan tarkowski's eyes: "pan tarkowski--" "what is it, nell?" "--as i already know that he is there, can i see him to-night?" "i knew," exclaimed mr. rawlinson, feigning indignation, "that this little fly would not be content with the news itself." and pan tarkowski, turning to the son of chadigi, said: "chamis, bring the dog." the young sudânese disappeared behind the kitchen tent and after a while reappeared, leading a big dog by the collar. nell retreated. "oh," she exclaimed, seizing her father's hand. on the other hand, stas grew enthusiastic. "but that is a lion, not a dog," he said. "he is called saba (lion)," answered pan tarkowski. "he belongs to the breed of mastiffs; these are the biggest dogs in the world. this one is only two years old but really is exceedingly large. don't be afraid, nell, as he is as gentle as a lamb. only be brave. let him go, chamis." chamis let go of the collar with which he had restrained the dog, and the latter, feeling that he was free, began to wag his tail, fawn before pan tarkowski with whom he was already well acquainted, and bark joyfully. the children gazed in the moonlight with admiration on his large round head with hanging lips, on his bulky paws, on his powerful frame, reminding one, in truth, of a lion with the tawny-yellowish color of his body. "with such a dog one could safely go through africa," exclaimed stas. "ask him whether he could retrieve a rhinoceros," said pan tarkowski. saba could not, indeed, answer that question, but instead wagged his tail more and more joyfully and drew near to the group so ingratiatingly that nell at once ceased to fear him and began to pat him on his head. "saba, nice, dear saba." mr. rawlinson leaned over him, raised his head towards the face of the little girl, and said: "saba, look at this little lady. she is your mistress. you must obey and guard her. do you understand?" "wow!" was the basso response of saba, as if he actually understood what was wanted. and he understood even better than might have been expected, for taking advantage of the fact that his head was on a level with the little girl's face, as a mark of homage he licked her little nose and cheeks with his broad tongue. this provoked a general outburst of laughter. nell had to go to the tent to wash herself. returning after a quarter of an hour she saw saba with paws upon the shoulders of stas, who bent under the weight; the dog was higher by a head. the time for sleep was approaching, but the little one asked for yet half an hour of play in order to get better acquainted with her new friend. in fact, the acquaintance proceeded so easily that pan tarkowski soon placed her in lady fashion on saba's back and, holding her from fear that she might fall, ordered stas to lead the dog by the collar. she rode thus a score of paces, after which stas tried to mount this peculiar "saddle-horse," but the dog sat on his hind legs so that stas unexpectedly found himself on the sand near the tail. the children were about to retire when in the distance on the market place, illumined by the moon, appeared two white figures walking towards the tents. the hitherto gentle saba began to growl hollowly and threateningly so that chamis, at mr. rawlinson's order, again had to take hold of the collar, and in the meantime two men dressed in white burnooses stood before the tent. "who is there?" asked pan tarkowski. "camel drivers," answered one of the arrivals. "ah, idris and gebhr? what do you want?" "we come to ask whether you will need us to-morrow." "no. to-morrow and the day after are great holidays, during which it is not proper to make excursions. come on the morning of the third day." "thank you, effendi." "have you good camels?" asked mr. rawlinson. "bismillah!" answered idris; "real saddle-horses with fat humps and as gentle as ha'-ga (lambs). otherwise cook would not have employed us." "do they jolt much?" "gentlemen, you can place a handful of kidney-beans on their backs and not a grain will fall during the fullest speed." "if one is to exaggerate, then exaggerate after the arabian fashion," said pan tarkowski, laughing. "or after the sudânese," added mr. rawlinson. in the meantime idris and gebhr continued to stand like two white columns, gazing attentively at stas and nell. the moon illumined their very dark faces, and in its luster they looked as if cast of bronze. the whites of their eyes glittered greenishly from under the turbans. "good night to you," said mr. rawlinson. "may allah watch over you, effendi, in night and in day." saying this, they bowed and went away. they were accompanied by a hollow growl, similar to distant thunder, from saba, whom the two sudânese apparently did not please. v during the following days there were no excursions. instead, on christmas eve, when the first star appeared in heaven, a little tree in mr. rawlinson's tent, intended for nell, was illuminated with hundreds of candles. to serve as a christmas tree there had been taken an arbor vitae, cut in one of the gardens in medinet; nevertheless, among its branchlets nell found a profusion of dainties and a splendid doll, which her father had brought from cairo for her, and stas, his much desired english short rifle. in addition he received from his father packages containing various hunters' supplies, and a saddle for horseback riding. nell could not contain herself for joy, while stas, although he thought that whoever owned a genuine short rifle ought to possess a corresponding dignity, could not restrain himself, and selecting the time when no one was about, walked around the tent on his hands. this knack, taught to him at the port said school, he possessed to a surprising degree and with it often amused nell, who, besides, sincerely envied it in him. christmas eve and the first day of the holidays were passed by the children partly in church services, partly in inspecting the gifts they had received, and in training saba. the new friend appeared to possess intelligence beyond all expectations. on the very first day he learned to give his paw, retrieve handkerchiefs, which, however, he would not surrender without some resistance, and he understood that cleaning nell's face with his tongue was an act unworthy of a gentlemanly dog. nell, holding her fingers at her little nose, gave him various instructions, while he, concurring with motions of his tail, gave her in this manner to understand that he heard with becoming attention and took her lessons to heart. during their strolls over the sandy city square the fame of saba in medinet grew with each hour and, even as all fame, began to have its disagreeable side, for it drew a whole swarm of arabian children. in the beginning they kept at a distance; afterwards, however, emboldened by the gentleness of the "monster," they approached more and more closely, and in the end sat around the tent so that no one could move about with any freedom. besides, as every arabian child sucks sugar-cane from morning to night, the children always attract after them legions of flies, which besides being loathsome are noxious, for they spread the egyptian infection of inflammation of the eyes. for this reason the servants attempted to disperse the children, but nell stood in their defense and, what is more, distributed among the youngest "helou," that is, sweetmeats, which gained for her their great love but also increased their number. after three days the joint excursions began; partly on the narrow-gauge railways of which the english had built quite a number in medinet el-fayûm, partly on donkeys, and sometimes on camels. it appeared that in the praises bestowed on those animals by idris there was indeed a great deal of exaggeration, for not merely kidney-beans but even people could not easily keep on the saddles; but there was also some truth. the camels in reality belonged to the variety known as "hegin," that is, for carrying passengers, and were fed with good durra (the local or syrian maize) so that the humps were fat and they appeared so willing to speed that it was necessary to check them. the sudânese, idris and gebhr, gained, notwithstanding the wild glitter of their eyes, the confidence and hearts of the company, and this through their great willingness to serve and their extraordinary care over nell. gebhr always had a cruel and a trifle bestial expression of face, but idris, quickly perceiving that that little personage was the eye in the head of the whole company, declared at every opportunity that he cared more for her than for his own soul. mr. rawlinson conjectured indeed, that, through nell, idris wanted to reach his pocket, but believing at the same time that there was not in the world a person who could not but love his only child, he was grateful to him and did not stint himself in giving "bakshish." in the course of five days the party visited the near by ruins of the ancient city of crocodilopolis, where at one time the egyptians worshipped a deity called sobk, which had a human form with the head of a crocodile. afterwards an excursion was made to the hanar pyramids and the remains of the labyrinth. the longest trip was on camel-back to lake karûn. its northern shore was a stark desert, on which there were ruins of former egyptian cities, but no trace of life. on the other hand, on the southern shore stretched a fertile country, magnificent, with shores overgrown by heather and reeds and teeming with pelicans, flamingoes, herons, wild geese, and ducks. only here did stas find an opportunity for displaying his marksmanship. the shooting from a common rifle as well as from the short rifle was so extraordinary that after every shot could be heard the astonished smacking of the lips of idris and the arabian rowers, and the falling of the birds into the water was accompanied by exclamations of "bismillah" and "mashallah." the arabians assured them that on the opposite desert-shore were many wolves and hyenas, and that by tossing amid the sand dunes the carcass of a sheep one might get within shooting range. in consequence of these assurances pan tarkowski and stas passed two nights on the desert near the ruins of dima. but the first sheep was stolen by bedouins as soon as the hunters left it; while the second lured only a lame jackal, which stas brought down. further hunting had to be postponed as the time had arrived for both engineers to inspect the works conducted at bahr yûsuf near el-lahûn, southeast from medinet. mr. rawlinson waited only for the arrival of madame olivier. unfortunately, in place of her, came a letter from the physician informing them that the former erysipelas in the face had recurred after the bite, and that the patient for a long time would be unable to leave port said. the situation actually became distressing. it was impossible to take with them the children, old dinah, the tents, and all the servants, if only for the reason that the engineers were to be one day here, another there, and might receive requests to go as far as the great canal of ibrâhimiyeh. in view of this, after a short consultation mr. rawlinson decided to leave nell under the care of old dinah and stas, together with the italian consular agent and the local "mudir" (governor) with whom he had previously become acquainted. he promised also to nell, who grieved to part from her father, that from all the nearer localities he would with pan tarkowski rush to medinet, or if they found some noteworthy sight, would summon the children to them. "we shall take with us, chamis," he said, "whom in a certain case we shall send for you. let dinah always keep nell's company, but as nell does with her whatever she pleases, do you, stas, watch over both." "you may be sure, sir," answered stas, "that i shall watch over nell, as over my own sister. she has saba, and i a short rifle, so let any one try to harm her--" "it is not about that that i am concerned," said mr. rawlinson. "saba and the short rifle will certainly not be necessary for you. you will be so good as to protect her from fatigue and at the same time take care she does not catch cold. i have asked the consul in case she feels unwell to summon a doctor from cairo immediately. we shall send chamis here for news as frequently as possible. the mudir will also visit you. i expect, besides, that our absence will never be very long." pan tarkowski also was not sparing in his admonitions to stas. he told him that nell did not require his defense as there was not in medinet nor in the whole province of el-fayûm any savage people or wild animals. to think of such things would be ridiculous and unworthy of a boy who had begun his fourteenth year. so he was to be solicitous and heedful only that they did not undertake anything on their own account, and more particularly excursions with nell on camels, on which a ride was fatiguing. but nell, hearing this, made such a sad face that pan tarkowski had to placate her. "certainly," he said, stroking her hair, "you will ride camels, but with us or towards us, if we send chamis for you." "but when alone are we not allowed to make an excursion, even though such a tiny bit of a one?" asked the girl. and she began to show on her finger about how little an excursion she was concerned. the parents in the end agreed that they could ride on donkeys, not on camels, and not to ruins, where they might easily fall into some hole, but over roads of adjacent fields and towards the gardens beyond the city. the dragoman, together with other cook servants, was always to accompany the children. after this both gentlemen departed, but they left for a place near by, hanaret el-matka, so that after ten hours they returned to pass the night in medinet. this was repeated the succeeding few days until they had inspected all the nearest work. afterwards, when their employment required their presence at more distant places, chamis arrived in the night time, and early in the following morning took stas and nell to those little cities, in which their parents wanted to show them something of interest. the children spent the greater part of the day with their parents and before sunset returned to the camp at medinet. there were, however, days on which chamis did not come, and then nell, notwithstanding the society of stas, and saba in whom she continually discovered some new traits, looked with longing for a messenger. in this manner the time passed until twelfth night, on the day of which festival both engineers returned to medinet. two days later they went away again, announcing that they left this time for a longer period and in all probability would reach as far as benisueif, and from there to el-fachn, where a canal of the same name begins, going far south alongside of the nile. great, therefore, was the astonishment of the children, when on the third day at eleven o'clock in the morning chamis appeared in medinet. stas met him first as he went to the pasturage to look at the camels. chamis conversed with idris, and only told stas that he came for him and nell and that he would come immediately to the camp to inform them where they, at the request of the older gentlemen, were to go. stas ran at once with the good news to nell, whom he found playing with saba before the tent. "do you know--chamis is here!" he cried from a distance. and nell began at once to hop, holding both feet together, as little girls do when skipping the rope. "we shall go! we shall go!" "yes. we shall go, and far." "where?" she asked, brushing aside with her little hands a tuft of hair which fell over her eyes. "i don't know. chamis said that in a moment he would come here and tell us." "how do you know it is far?" "because i heard idris say that he and gebhr would start at once with the camels. that means that we shall go by rail and shall find the camels at the place where our parents will be, and from there we shall make some kind of an excursion." the tuft of hair, owing to the continual hops, covered again not only nell's eyes but her whole face, her feet bounding as if they were made of india rubber. a quarter of an hour later, chamis came and bowed to both. "khanage (young master)," he said, "we leave after three hours by the first train." "where are we going?" "to gharak el-sultani, and from there with the older gentlemen on camel-back to wâdi rayân." stas' heart beat with joy, but at the same time chamis' words surprised him. he knew that wâdi rayân was a great valley among sandy hills rising on the libyan desert on the south and southwest of medinet, while on the other hand pan tarkowski and mr. rawlinson announced on their departure that they were going in a directly opposite direction, towards the nile. "what has happened?" asked stas. "then my father and mr. rawlinson are not in benisueif but in el-gharak?" "it happened thus," replied chamis. "but they ordered us to write to them at el-fachn." "in a letter the senior effendi explains why they are in el-gharak." and for a while he searched on his person for the letter, after which he exclaimed: "oh, nabi! (prophet) i left the letter in a pouch with the camels. i will run at once before idris and gebhr depart." and he ran towards the camels. in the meantime the children, with dinah, began to prepare for the journey. as it looked as if the excursion would be a long one, dinah packed several dresses, some linen, and warmer clothing for nell. stas thought of himself, and especially did not forget about the short rifle and cartridges, hoping that among the sand dunes of wâdi rayân he might encounter wolves and hyenas. chamis did not return until an hour later; he was covered with perspiration and so fatigued that for a while he could not catch his breath. "i did not find the camels," he said. "i chased after them, but in vain. but that does not matter as we shall find the letter and the effendis themselves in el-gharak. is dinah to go with you?" "why not?" "perhaps it would be better if she remained. the older gentlemen said nothing about her." "but they announced on leaving that dinah was always to accompany the little lady. so she shall ride now." chamis bowed, placing his hand on his heart and said: "let us hasten, sir, for otherwise the katr (train) will set off." the baggage was ready, so they were at the station on time. the distance between medinet and gharak is not more than nineteen miles, but the trains on the branch line which connects those localities move slowly and the stops were uncommonly frequent. if stas had been alone he undoubtedly would have preferred to ride camel-back as he calculated that idris and gebhr, having started two hours before the train, would be earlier in el-gharak. but for nell such a ride would be too long; and the little guardian, who took very much to heart the warnings of both parents, did not want to expose the little girl to fatigue. after all the time passed for both so quickly that they scarcely noticed when they stopped in gharak. the little station, from which englishmen usually make excursions to wâdi rayân, was almost entirely deserted. they found only a few veiled women, with baskets of mandarin oranges, two unknown bedouin camel drivers, together with idris and gebhr, with seven camels, one of which was heavily packed. of pan tarkowski and mr. rawlinson there was no trace. but idris in this manner explained their absence. "the older gentlemen went into the desert to pitch the tents which they brought with them from etsah, and ordered us to follow them." "and how shall we find them among the sand-hills?" asked stas. "they sent guides who will lead us to them." saying this he pointed to the bedouins. the older of them bowed, rubbed with his finger the one eye which he possessed, and said: "our camels are not so fat but are not less speedy than yours. after an hour we shall be there." stas was glad that he would pass the night on the desert, but nell felt a certain disappointment, for she had been certain that she would meet her papa in gharak. in the meantime the station-master, a sleepy egyptian with a red fez and dark spectacles, approached them, and, not having anything else to do, began to stare at the european children. "these are the children of those englishmen who rode this morning with rifles to the desert," said idris, placing nell on the saddle. stas, handing his short rifle to chamis, sat beside her, for the saddle was wide and had the shape of a palanquin without a roof. dinah sat behind chamis, the others took separate camels, and the party started. if the station-master had stared at them longer he might perhaps have wondered that those englishmen, of whom idris spoke, rode directly to the ruins on the south, while this party at once directed its movements towards talei, in a different direction. but the station-master before that time had returned home as no other train arrived that day at gharak. the hour was five in the afternoon. the weather was splendid. the sun had already passed on that side of the nile and declined over the desert, sinking into the golden and purple twilight glowing on the western side of the sky. the atmosphere was so permeated with the roseate luster that the eyes blinked from its superfluity. the fields assumed a lily tint, while the distant sand-hills, strongly relieved against the background of the twilight, had a hue of pure amethyst. the world lost the traits of reality and appeared to be one play of supernal lights. while they rode over a verdant and cultivated region, the guide, a bedouin, conducted the caravan with a moderate pace. but with the moment that the hard sand creaked under the feet of the camels, everything changed. "yalla! yalla!" suddenly yelled wild voices. and simultaneously could be heard the swish of whips and the camels, having changed from an ambling pace into a full gallop, began to speed like the whirlwind, throwing up with their feet the sand and gravel of the desert. "yalla! yalla!" the ambling pace of a camel jolts more, while the gallop with which this animal seldom runs, swings more; so the children enjoyed this mad ride. but it is known that even in a swing, too much rapid movement causes dizziness. accordingly, after a certain time, when the speed did not cease, nell began to get dizzy and her eyes grew dim. "stas, why are we flying so?" she exclaimed, turning to her companion. "i think that they allowed them to get into too much of a gallop and now cannot check them," answered stas. but observing that the little girl's face was becoming pale, he shouted at the bedouins, running ahead, to slacken their pace. his calls, however, had only this result: that again resounded the cries of "yalla," and the animals increased their speed. the boy thought at first that the bedouins did not hear him, but when on his repeated orders there was no response and when gebhr, who was riding behind him, did not cease lashing the camel on which he sat with nell, he thought it was not the camels that were so spirited but that the men for some reason unknown to him were in a great hurry. it occurred to him that they might have taken the wrong road and that, desiring to make up for lost time, they now were speeding from fear that the older gentlemen might scold them because of a late arrival. but after a while he understood that such could not be the case, as mr. rawlinson would have been more angered for unnecessarily fatiguing nell. then what did it mean? and why did they not obey his commands? in the heart of the boy anger and fear for nell began to rise. "stop!" he shouted with his whole strength, addressing gebhr. "ouskout! (be silent)!" the sudânese yelled in reply; and they sped on. in egypt night falls about six o'clock, so the twilight soon became extinct and after a certain time the great moon, ruddy from the reflection of the twilight, rolled on and illuminated the desert with a gentle light. in the silence could be heard only the heavy breathing of the camels, the rapid hoof-beats on the sand, and at times the swish of whips. nell was so tired that stas had to hold her on the saddle. every little while she asked how soon they would reach then destination, and evidently was buoyed up only by the hope of an early meeting with her father. but in vain both children gazed around. one hour passed, then another; neither tents nor camp-fires could be seen. then the hair rose on stas' head, for he realized that they were kidnapped. vi messrs. rawlinson and tarkowski actually expected the children, not amidst the sand-hills of wâdi rayân, where they had no need or desire to ride, but in an entirely different direction, in the city of el-fachn on a canal of the same name at which they were examining the work finished before the end of the year. the distance between el-fachn and medinet in a straight line is almost twenty-eight miles. as, however, there is no direct connection and it is necessary to ride to el-wasta, which doubles the distance, mr. rawlinson, after looking over the railway guide, made the following calculations. "chamis left the night before last," he said to pan tarkowski, "and in el-wasta he caught the train from cairo; he was therefore in medinet yesterday. it would take an hour to pack up. leaving at noon they would have to wait for the night train running along the nile, and as i do not permit nell to ride at night, they would leave this morning and will be here immediately after sunset." "yes," said pan tarkowski, "chamis must rest a little, and though stas is indeed impulsive, nevertheless, where nell is concerned you may always depend upon him. moreover, i sent him a postal card not to ride during the night." "a brave lad, and i trust him," answered mr. rawlinson. "to tell the truth, so do i. stas with his various faults has an upright character and never lies, for he is brave, and only a coward lies. he also does not lack energy and if in time he acquires a calm judgment, i think he will be able to take care of himself in this world." "certainly. as to judgment, were you judicious at his age?" "i must confess that i was not," replied pan tarkowski, laughing, "but i was not so self-confident as he." "that will pass. meanwhile, be happy that you have such a boy." "and you that you have such a sweet and dear creature as nell." "may god bless her!" answered mr. rawlinson with emotion. the two friends warmly shook hands, after which they sat down to examine the plans and the report of expenditures connected with the work. at this occupation the time passed until evening. about six o'clock, when night fell, they were at the station, strolling along the walk, and resumed their conversation about the children. "superb weather, but cool," said mr. rawlinson. "i wonder if nell took some warm clothing with her." "stas will think of that, and dinah also." "i regret, nevertheless, that instead of bringing them here, we did not go to medinet." "you will recollect that that is just what i advised." "i know, and if it were not that we are to go from here farther south, i would have agreed. i calculated, however, that the trip would take too much time and on the whole it would be best to have the children here. finally, i will confess to you that chamis suggested the idea to me. he announced that he prodigiously yearned for them and would be happy if i sent for both. i am not surprised that he should be so attached to them." further conversation was interrupted by signals announcing the approach of the train. after an interval the fiery eyes of the locomotive appeared in the darkness, and at the same time could be heard its puffs and whistle. a row of lighted coaches drew alongside the platform, quivered, and stood still. "i did not see them in any window," said mr. rawlinson. "perhaps they are seated further inside and surely will come out immediately." the passengers began to alight, but they were mainly arabs, as el-fachn has nothing interesting to see except beautiful groves of palms and acacias. the children did not arrive. "chamis either did not make connections in el-wasta," declared pan tarkowski, with a shade of ill-humor, "or after a night of travel overslept himself, and they will not arrive until to-morrow." "that may be," answered mr. rawlinson, with uneasiness, "but it also may be possible that one of them is sick." "in that case stas would have telegraphed." "who knows but that we may find a despatch in the hotel?" "let us go." but in the hotel no news awaited them. mr. rawlinson became more and more uneasy. "what do you think could have happened?" said pan tarkowski. "if chamis overslept himself, he would not admit it to the children and would come to them to-day and tell them that they are to leave to-morrow. to us he will excuse himself by claiming that he misunderstood our orders. in any event, i shall telegraph to stas." "and i to the mudir of fayûm." after a while the despatches were sent. there was indeed no cause for uneasiness; nevertheless, in waiting for an answer the engineers passed a bad night, and early morning found them on their feet. the answer from the mudir came about ten o'clock and was as follows: "verified at station. children left yesterday for gharak el-sultani." it can easily be understood what amazement and anger possessed the parents at this unexpected intelligence. for some time they gazed at each other, as if they did not understand the words of the despatch; after which pan tarkowski, who was an impulsive person, struck the table with his hand and said: "that was stas' whim, but i will cure him of such whims." "i did not expect that of him," answered nell's father. but after a moment he asked: "but what of chamis?" "he either did not find them and does not know what to do or else rode after them." "yes, i think so." an hour later they started for medinet. in camp they ascertained that the camels were gone, and at the station it was confirmed that chamis left with the children for el-gharak. the affair became darker and darker and it could be cleared up only in el-gharak. in fact, only at that station did the dreadful truth begin to dawn. the station-master, the same sleepy one with dark spectacles and red fez, told them that he saw a boy about fourteen years old and an eight-year-old girl with an old negress, who rode towards the desert. he did not remember whether there were eight or nine camels altogether, but observed that one was heavily packed as if for a long journey, and the two bedouins also had big pack-saddles. he recollected also that when he stared at the caravan one of the camel drivers, a sudânese, said to him that those were the children of the englishmen who before that had gone to wâdi rayân. "did those englishmen return?" asked pan tarkowski. "yes. they returned yesterday with two slain wolves," answered the station-master; "and i was astonished that they did not return with the children. but i did not ask the reason as that was not my affair." saying this he left to attend to his duties. during this narrative mr. rawlinson's face became white as paper. gazing at his friend with a wild look, he took off his hat, pressed his hand to his forehead, covered with perspiration, and staggered as if he were about to fall. "be a man, rawlinson!" exclaimed pan tarkowski. "our children are kidnapped. it is necessary to rescue them." "nell! nell!" repeated the unhappy englishman. "nell and stas! it was not stas' fault. both were enticed by trickery and kidnapped. who knows why? perhaps for a ransom. chamis undoubtedly is in the plot, and idris and gebhr also." here he recalled what fatma had said about both sudânese belonging to the dongolese tribe, in which the mahdi was born, and that chadigi, the father of chamis, came from the same tribe. at this recollection his heart for a moment became inert in his breast for he understood that the children were abducted not for a ransom but as an exchange for smain's family. "but what will the tribesmen of the ill-omened prophet do with them? they cannot hide them on the desert or anywhere on the banks of the nile, for they all would die of hunger and thirst on the desert, and they certainly would be apprehended on the nile. perhaps they will try to join the mahdi." and this thought filled pan tarkowski with dismay, but the energetic ex-soldier soon recovered and began in his mind to review all that happened and at the same time seek means of rescue. "fatma," he reasoned, "had no cause to revenge herself either upon us or our children. if they have been kidnapped it was evidently for the purpose of placing them in the hands of smain. in no case does death threaten them. and this is a fortune in misfortune; still a terrible journey awaits them which might be disastrous for them." and at once he shared these thoughts with his friend, after which he spoke thus: "idris and gebhr, like savage and foolish men, imagine that followers of the mahdi are not far, while khartûm, which the mahdi reached, is about one thousand two hundred and forty miles from here. this journey they must make along the nile and not keep at a distance from it as otherwise the camels and people would perish from thirst. ride at once to cairo and demand of the khedive that despatches be sent to all the military outposts and that a pursuit be organized right and left along the river. offer a large reward to the sheiks near the banks for the capture of the fugitives. in the villages let all be detained who approach for water. in this manner idris and gebhr must fall into the hands of the authorities and we shall recover the children." mr. rawlinson had already recovered his composure. "i shall go," he said. "those miscreants forgot that wolseley's english army, hurrying to gordon's relief, is already on the way and will cut them off from the mahdi. they will not escape. they cannot escape. i shall send a despatch to our minister in a moment, and afterwards go myself. what do you intend to do?" "i shall telegraph for a furlough, and not waiting for an answer, shall follow then trail by way of the nile to nubia, to attend to the pursuit." "then we shall meet, as from cairo i shall do the same." "good! and now to work!" "with god's help!" answered mr. rawlinson. vii in the meantime the camels swept like a hurricane over the sands glistening in the moonlight. a deep night fell. the moon, at the beginning as big as a wheel and ruddy, became pale and rolled on high. the distant desert hills were enveloped with silvery vapors like muslin which, not veiling their view, transformed them as if into luminous phenomena. from time to time from beyond the rocks scattered here and there came the piteous whining of jackals. another hour passed. stas held nell in his arms and supported her, endeavoring in this way to allay the fatiguing jolts of the mad ride. the little girl began more and more frequently to ask him why they were speeding so and why they did not see the tents and their papas. stas finally determined to tell her the truth, which sooner or later he would have to disclose. "nell," he said, "pull off a glove and drop it, unobserved, on the ground." "why, stas?" and he pressed her to himself and answered with a kind of tenderness unusual to him: "do what i tell you." nell held stas with one hand and feared to let him go, but she overcame the difficulty in this manner: she began to pull the glove with her teeth, each finger separately, and, finally taking it off entirely, she dropped it on the ground. "after a time, throw the other," again spoke stas. "i already have dropped mine, but yours will be easier to observe for they are bright." and observing that the little girl gazed at him with an inquiring look, he continued: "don't get frightened, nell. it may be that we will not meet your or my father at all--and that these foul people have kidnapped us. but don't fear--for if it is so, then pursuers will follow them. they will overtake them and surely rescue us. i told you to drop the gloves so that the pursuers may find clews. in the meanwhile we can do nothing, but later i shall contrive something--surely, i shall contrive something; only do not fear, and trust me." but nell, learning that she should not see her papa and that they are flying somewhere, far in the desert, began to tremble from fright and cry, clinging at the same time close to stas and asking him amid her sobs why they kidnapped them and where they were taking them. he comforted her as well as he could--almost in the same words with which his father comforted mr. rawlinson. he said that their parents themselves would follow in pursuit and would notify all the garrisons along the nile. in the end he assured her that whatever might happen, he would never abandon her and would always defend her. but her grief and longing for her father were stronger even than fear; so for a long time she did not cease to weep--and thus they flew, both sad, on a bright night, over the pale sands of the desert. sorrow and fear not only oppressed stas' heart, but also shame. he was not indeed to blame for what had happened, yet he recalled the former boastfulness for which his father so often had rebuked him. formerly he was convinced that there was no situation to which he was not equal; he considered himself a kind of unvanquished swashbuckler, and was ready to challenge the whole world. now he understood that he was a small boy, with whom everybody could do as he pleased, and that he was speeding in spite, of his will on a camel merely because that camel was driven from behind by a half-savage sudânese. he felt terribly humiliated and did not see any way of resisting. he had to admit to himself that he plainly feared those men and the desert, and what he and nell might meet. he promised sincerely not only to her but to himself that he would watch over and defend her even at the cost of his own life. nell, weary with weeping and the mad ride, which had lasted already six hours, finally began to doze, and at times fell asleep. stas, knowing that whoever fell from a galloping camel might be killed on the spot, tied her to himself with a rope which he found on the saddle. but after some time it seemed to him that the speed of the camels became less rapid, though now they flew over smooth and soft sands. in the distance could be seen only the shifting hills, while on the plain began the nocturnal illusions common to the desert. the moon shone in the heaven more and more palely and in the meantime there appeared before them, creeping low, strange rosy clouds, entirely transparent, woven only from light. they formed mysteriously and moved ahead as if pushed by the light breeze. stas saw how the burnooses of the bedouins and the camels became roseate when they rode into that illuminated space, and afterwards the whole caravan was enveloped in a delicate, rosy luster. at times the clouds assumed an azure hue and thus it continued until the hills were reached. near the hills the speed of the camels slackened yet more. all about could be seen rocks protruding from sandy knolls or strewn in wild disorder amidst the sand dunes. the ground became stony. they crossed a few hollows, sown with stone and resembling the dried-up beds of rivers. at times their road was barred by ravines about which they had to make a detour. the animals began to step carefully, moving their legs with precision as if in a dance, among the dry and hard bushes formed by roses of jericho with which the dunes and rocks were abundantly covered. time and again some of the camels would stumble and it was apparent that it was due to them to give them rest. accordingly the bedouins stopped in a sunken pass, and dismounting from the saddles, proceeded to untie the packs. idris and gebhr followed their example. they began to attend to the camels, to loosen the saddle-girths, remove the supplies of provisions, and seek flat stones on which to build a fire. there was no wood or dried dung, which arabs use, but chamis, son of chadigi, plucked roses of jericho and built of them a big pile to which he set fire. for some time, while the sudânese were engaged with the camels, stas and nell and her nurse, old dinah, found themselves together, somewhat apart. but dinah was more frightened than the children and could not say a word. she only wrapped nell in a warm plaid and sitting close to her began with a moan to kiss her little hands. stas at once asked chamis the meaning of what had happened, but he, laughing, only displayed his white teeth, and went to gather more roses of jericho. idris, questioned afterwards, answered with these words: "you will see!" and threatened him with his finger. when the fire of roses, which smoldered more than blazed, finally glowed they all surrounded it in a circle, except gebhr who remained with the camels, and they began to eat cakes of maize, and dried mutton and goats' meat. the children, famished by the long journey, also ate, though at the same time nell's eyes were closed by sleepiness. but in the meantime, in the faint light of the fire, appeared dark-skinned gebhr and with glittering eyes he held up two bright little gloves and asked: "whose are these?" "mine," answered nell with a sleepy and tired voice. "yours, little viper?" the sudânese hissed through set teeth. "then you mark the road so that your father can know where to pursue us." saying this, he struck her with a courbash, a terrible arabian whip, which cuts even the hide of a camel. nell, though she was wrapped in a thick plaid, shrieked from pain and fright, but gebhr was unable to strike her a second time, for at that moment stas leaped like a wildcat, butted gebhr's breast with his head, and afterwards clutched him by the throat. it happened so unexpectedly that the sudânese fell upon his back and stas on top of him, and both began to roll on the ground. the boy was exceptionally strong for his age, nevertheless gebhr soon overcame him. he first pulled his hands from his throat, after which he turned him over with face to the ground and, pressing heavily on his neck with his fist, he began to lash his back with the courbash. the shrieks and tears of nell, who seizing the hand of the savage at the same time begged him "to forgive" stas, would not have availed if idris had not unexpectedly come to the boy's assistance. he was older than gebhr and from the beginning of the flight from gharak el-sultani all complied with his orders. now he snatched the courbash from his brother's hand and, pushing him away, exclaimed: "away, you fool!" "i'll flog that scorpion!" answered gebhr, gnashing his teeth. but at this, idris seized his cloak at the breast and gazing into his eyes began to say in a threatening though quiet voice: "the noble* [* all relatives of the mahdi were termed "noble."] fatma forbade us to do any harm to those children, for they interceded for her--" "i'll flog him!" iterated gebhr. "and i tell you that you shall not raise the courbash at either of them. if you do, for every blow, i shall give you ten." and he began to shake him like a bough of a palm, after which he thus continued: "those children are the property of smain and if either of them does not reach him alive, the mahdi himself (may god prolong his days infinitely!) would command you to be hung. do you understand, you fool?" the name of the mahdi created such a great impression upon all his believers that gebhr drooped his head at once and began to repeat as if with fear: "allah akbar! allah akbar!"* [* this cry means, "god is great"; but arabs utter it in moments of fear, summoning aid.] stas rose, panting and whipped, but felt that if his father could have seen and heard him at that moment he would have been proud of him, for he had not only leaped to save nell, without thinking, but now, though the blows of the courbash burnt him like fire, he did not think of his own pain but instead began to console and ask the little girl whether the blow had injured her. and afterwards he said: "whatever i got, i got, but he will never attack you. oh, if i only had some weapon!" the little woman entwined his neck with her arms and dampening his cheeks with tears began to assure him that it did not pain her very much and that she was crying not from pain but from sorrow for him. at this stas put his lips to her ear and whispered: "nell, i swear that, not because he whipped me, but because he struck you, i shall not forgive him." with that the incident closed. after a certain time gebhr and idris, becoming reconciled, spread out their cloaks upon the ground and lay upon them, and chamis soon followed their example. the bedouins poured out durra for the camels, after which, having mounted two unengaged camels, they rode in the direction of the nile. nell, supporting her head on old dinah's knee, fell asleep. the fire was dying out and soon could be heard only the grinding of the durra in the camels' teeth. on high rolled small clouds which at times veiled the moon, but the night was clear. beyond the rocks resounded the mournful whining of jackals. after two hours the bedouins returned with the camels bearing leather bags filled with water. having fed the fire, they sat on the sand and commenced to eat. their arrival awoke stas, who previously had been dozing, as well as chamis, son of chadigi, and the two sudânese. then at the camp-fire began the following conversation: "can we start?" idris asked. "no, because we must rest;--we and our camels." "did any one see you?" "nobody. we reached the river between two villages. in the distance dogs barked." "it will be necessary always to go for water at midnight and draw it at deserted places. only let us get past the first 'challa' (cataract); beyond that the villages are farther apart and they are more friendly to the prophet. a pursuing party will undoubtedly follow us." at this chamis turned over, with his back up, and resting his face on his hands said: "the mehendes will first wait for the children in el-fachn during the whole night and until the following train; later they will go to fayûm and from there to gharak. only there will they understand what has happened and then they will have to return to medinet to send words flying over the copper wire to cities on the nile and to the camel-corps which will pursue us. all that will take at least three days. therefore we do not need to tire our camels and can peacefully 'drink smoke' from pipe-stems." saying this, he pulled out a sprig of a rose of jericho and lit his pipe with it, while idris began, according to the arabian habit, to smack his lips with satisfaction. "you arranged it well, son of chadigi," he said, "but it is necessary for us to take advantage of the time and to drive during those three days and nights as far as possible southward. i shall breathe freely only when we shall cross the desert between the nile and kharga (a great oasis west of the nile). god grant that the camels hold out." "they will hold out," declared one of the bedouins. "people also say," interposed chamis, "that the army of the mahdi--may god prolong his life--has already reached assuan." here stas, who did not lose a word of this conversation and remembered also what idris had said to gebhr, rose and said: "the army of the mahdi is below khartûm." "la! la! (no! no!)" chamis contradicted. "don't pay any attention to his words," stas replied, "for he not only has a dark skin but also a dark brain. although you bought fresh camels every three days and rushed as you have done this day, you would not reach khartûm for a month. and perhaps you do not know that an english, not an egyptian, army bars the road to you." these words created a certain impression and stas, observing this, continued: "before you find yourselves between the nile and the great oasis all the roads on the desert will be picketed by a line of army sentinels. words over the copper wire speed quicker than camels. how will you be able to slip through?" "the desert is wide," answered one of the bedouins. "but you must keep close to the nile." "we can cross over, and when they seek us on this side we shall be on the other." "words speeding over the copper wire will reach cities and villages on both banks of the river." "the mahdi will send us an angel, who will place a finger on the eyes of the englishmen and the turks (egyptians) and will screen us with his wings." "idris," said stas, "i do not address chamis whose head is like an empty gourd, nor gebhr who is a vile jackal, but you. i already know that you want to carry us to the mahdi and deliver us to smain. but if you are doing this for money, then know that the father of this little 'bint' (girl) is richer than all the sudânese put together." "and what of it?" interrupted idris. "what of it? return voluntarily and the great mehendi will not spare money for you, nor will my father either." "but they will give us up to the government, which will order us to be hung." "no, idris. you undoubtedly will hang, but only in case they capture you in the flight; and that surely will happen. but if you return, no punishment will be meted out to you, and besides you will be wealthy to the end of your life. you know that the white people of europe always keep their word. now i give you the word for both mehendes that it will be as i say." and stas in reality was confident that his father and mr. rawlinson would prefer to fulfil the promise made by him than expose both of them, and especially nell, to the terrible journey and yet more terrible life among the savage and maddened hordes of the mahdi. so with palpitating heart, he waited for the reply of idris who was plunged in silence and only after a long interval said: "you say that the father of the little 'bint' and yours will give us a great deal of money?" "yes." "but can all their money open for us the gates of paradise which only the blessing of the mahdi can do?" "bismillah!" shouted both bedouins together with chamis and gebhr. stas at once lost all hope, for he knew that howsoever much the people in the east are greedy and venal, nevertheless when a true mohammedan views any matter from the standpoint of faith, there are not any treasures in the world with which he can be tempted. idris, encouraged by the shouts, continued, and evidently not for the purpose of replying to stas, but with a view of gaining greater esteem and praise from his companions. "we have the good fortune not only to belong to that tribe which gave the holy prophet, but the noble fatma and her children are his relatives and the great mahdi loves them. if we deliver you and the little 'bint' to him, he will exchange you for fatma and her sons and will bless us. know that even the water, in which every morning according to the precepts of the koran he makes his ablutions, heals the sick and eliminates sins; and think what his blessing can accomplish!" "bismillah!" reiterated the sudânese and bedouins. but stas, clutching at the last plank for help, said: "then take me and let the bedouins return with the little 'bint' for me they will surrender fatma and her sons." "it is yet more certain that they will surrender her for you two." at this the boy addressed chamis: "your father shall answer for your conduct." "my father is already in the desert, on his way to the prophet," retorted chamis. "then they will capture and hang him." here, however, idris deemed it proper to give encouragement to his companions. "those vultures," he said, "which will pick the flesh from our bones may not yet be hatched. we know what threatens us, but we are not children, and we know the desert of old. these men (here he pointed at the bedouins) were many times in berber and are acquainted with roads over which only gazelles roam. there nobody will find us and nobody will seek us. we must indeed turn for water to the bahr yûsuf and later to the nile, but will do that in the night. besides, do you think that on the river there are no secret friends of the mahdi? and i tell you that the farther south we go the more of them we will find. there, tribes and their sheiks are only waiting for the favorable moment to seize the sword in defense of the true faith. these alone will supply water, food, and camels, and lead astray the pursuit. in truth, we know that it is far to the mahdi, but we know also that every day brings us nearer to the sheep's hide on which the holy prophet kneels to pray." "bismillah!" shouted his companions for the third tune. it was apparent that idris' importance grew among them considerably. stas understood that all was lost; so, desiring at least to protect nell from the malice of the sudânese, he said: "after six hours the little lady reached here barely alive. how can you think that she can endure such a journey? if she should die, i also will die, and then with what will you come to the mahdi?" now idris could not find an answer. stas, perceiving this, continued thus: "and how will the mahdi and smain receive you when they learn that for your folly fatma and her children must pay with their lives?" but the sudânese had recovered himself and replied: "i saw how you grasped gebhr's throat. by allah! you are a lion's whelp and will not die and she--" here he gazed at the little head of the sleeping girl resting on the knees of old dinah and finished in a kind of strangely gentle voice: "for her we will weave on the camel's hump a nest, as for a bird, that she may not at all feel fatigue and that she may sleep on the road as peacefully as she is sleeping now." saying this he walked towards the camels and with the bedouins began to make a seat for the little girl on the back of the best dromedary. at this they chattered a great deal and quarrelled among themselves but finally, with the aid of ropes, shaggy coverlets, and short bamboo poles they made something in the shape of a deep, immovable basket in which nell could sit or lie down, but from which she could not fall. above this seat, so broad that dinah also could be accommodated in it, they stretched a linen awning. "you see," said idris to stas, "quail's eggs could not crack in those housings. the old woman will ride with the little lady to serve her day and night.--you will sit with me, but can ride near her and watch over her." stas was glad that he had secured even this much. pondering over the situation, he came to the conclusion that in all probability they would be captured before they reached the first cataract, and this thought gave him hope. in the meantime he wanted above all things to sleep; so he promised himself that he would tie himself with some kind of rope to the saddle, and, as he would not have to hold nell, he could take a nap for a few hours. the night already became paler and the jackals ceased their whining amid the passes. the caravan was to start immediately, but the sudânese, observing the dawn, went to a rock, a few paces away, and there, conformably with the precepts of the koran, began their morning ablutions, using, however, sand instead of water, which they desired to save. afterwards resounded voices, saying the "soubhg," or morning prayer. amidst the deep silence plainly could be heard their words: "in the name of the compassionate and merciful god. glory to the lord, the sovereign of the world, compassionate and merciful on the day of judgment. thee we worship and profess. thee we implore for aid. lead us over the road of those to whom thou dost not spare benefactions and grace and not over the paths of sinners who have incurred thy wrath and who err. amen." and stas, hearing these voices, raised his eyes upwards and in that distant region, amidst tawny, gloomy sands, began the prayer: "we fly to thy patronage, o holy mother of god." viii the night faded. the men already had the saddles on the camels, when suddenly they observed a desert wolf, which, with tail curled beneath it, rushed across the pass, about a hundred paces from the caravan, and reaching the opposite table-land, dashed ahead showing signs of fright as if it fled before some enemy. on the egyptian deserts there are no wild animals before which wolves could feel any fear and for that reason this sight greatly alarmed the sudânese arabs. what could this be? was the pursuing party already approaching? one of the bedouins quickly climbed on a rock, but he had barely glanced when he slipped down yet more quickly. "by the prophet!" he exclaimed, confused and frightened, "a lion is rushing towards us and is already close by!" and then from beyond the rocks came a bass "wow" after which stas and nell shouted together: "saba! saba!" as in the arabian language this means a lion, the bedouins became frightened yet more, but chamis burst out laughing and said: "i know that lion." saying this he whistled drawlingly and in a moment the gigantic mastiff dashed among the camels. seeing the children he leaped towards them. from joy he overturned nell who extended her hands to him; he reared himself on stas; afterwards whining and barking he ran round both a few times, again overturned nell, again reared himself on stas, and finally lying down at their feet began to pant. his sides were sunken, from his lolling tongue fell clots of froth; nevertheless he wagged his tail and raised his eyes full of love at nell as if he wanted to say: "your father ordered me to watch over you, so here i am." the children sat close to him, one on each side, and began to pat him. the two bedouins, who never before saw a creature like this, gazed at him with astonishment, repeating: "on allah! o kelb kebir!" ("by god! that is a big dog!") while he for some time lay quietly. afterwards he raised his head, inhaled the air through his black nose resembling a big truffle, scented, and jumped towards the extinct camp-fire, near which lay the remnants of food. in the same moment goat's and lamb's bones began to crack and crumble as straw in his powerful teeth. after eight people, counting old dinah and nell, there was enough for such "kelb kebir." but the sudânese were worried by his arrival and the two camel drivers, calling chamis to one side, began to speak to him with uneasiness and even with indignation. "iblis* [* iblis, one of the names of the devil in the koran.--_translator's note_.] brought that dog here," exclaimed gebhr, "but in what manner did he find the children, since they came to gharak by rail?" "surely by the camel tracks," answered chamis. "it happened badly. everybody who sees him with us will remember our caravan and will point out where we went. we positively must get rid of him." "but how?" asked chamis. "we have a rifle, so take it and shoot him in the head." in a case of urgency, chamis might be able, for stas had several times opened and closed his weapon before him, but he was sorry for the dog of whom he was fond, having taken care of him before the arrival of the children at medinet. he knew perfectly that the sudânese had no idea how to handle a weapon of the latest model and would be at a loss what to do with it. "if you don't know how," he said, with a crafty smile, "that little 'nouzrani' (christian) could kill the dog, but that rifle can fire several times in succession; so i do not advise you to put it in his hands." "god forbid!" replied idris; "he would shoot us like quails." "we have knives," observed gebhr. "try it, but remember that you have a throat which the dog will pull to pieces before you stab him." "then what is to be done?" chamis shrugged his shoulder. "why do you want to kill the dog? if you should afterwards bury him in the sand, the hyenas will dig him out; the pursuers will find his bones and will know that we did not cross the nile but made off in this direction. let him follow us. as often as the bedouins go for water and we hide in the passes, you may be sure that the dog will stay with the children. allah! it is better that he came now, for otherwise he would lead the pursuing party on our tracks as far as berber. you do not need to feed him, for if our leavings are not sufficient it will not be difficult for him to get a hyena or jackal. leave him in peace, i tell you, and do not lose any time in idle talk." "perhaps you are right," said idris. "if i am right, then i will give him water, so that he shall not run to the nile and show himself in the villages." in this manner was decided the fate of saba who, having somewhat rested himself and eaten his fill, in the twinkling of an eye lapped up a bowl of water and started with renewed strength after the caravan. they now rode on high, level ground, on which the wind wrinkled the sand and from which could be seen on both sides the immense expanse of the desert. heaven assumed the tint of a pearl shell. light little clouds gathered in the east and changed like opals, after which they suddenly became dyed with gold. one ray darted, afterwards another, and the sun--as is usual in southern countries, in which there are scarcely any twilight and dawn--did not ascend, but burst from behind the clouds like a pillar of fire and flooded the horizon with a bright light. it enlivened heaven, it enlivened the earth, and the immeasurable sandy expanse was unveiled to the eyes of men. "we must hasten," said idris, "for here we can be seen from a distance." accordingly the rested and satiated camels sped on with the celerity of gazelles. saba remained behind, but there was no fear that he would get lost and not appear at the first short halt for refreshments. the dromedary on which idris rode with stas ran close to the one on which nell was mounted, so that the children could easily converse with each other. the seat which the sudânese had made appeared splendid and the little girl really looked like a bird in a nest. she could not fall, even sleeping, and the ride fatigued her far less than during the night. the bright daylight gave courage to both children. in stas' heart the hope entered that since saba had overtaken them, the pursuers might do the same. this hope he at once shared with nell, who smiled at him for the first time since their abduction. "when will they overtake us?" she asked in french in order that idris should not understand them. "i do not know. it may be to-day; perhaps to-morrow; perhaps after two or three days." "but we will not ride back on camels?" "no. we will ride only as far as the nile, and afterwards go by way of the nile to el-wasta." "that is good! oh, good!" poor nell, who had previously loved these rides, had evidently now had enough of them. "by way of the nile--to el-wasta and to papa!" she began to repeat in a sleepy voice. as at the previous stop she did not enjoy a full sound sleep, she now fell into that deep sleep which after fatigue comes towards morning. in the meantime the bedouins drove the camels without a rest and stas observed that they were making their way towards the interior of the desert. so, desiring to shake idris' confidence that he would be able to elude the pursuit, and at the same time to show him that he himself relied upon it as a dead certainty, he said: "you are driving away from the nile and from bahr yûsuf, but that won't help you, for of course they will not seek you on the banks where villages lie side by side, but in the interior of the desert." and idris asked: "how do you know that we are driving away from the nile, since the banks cannot be seen from here?" "because the sun, which is in the eastern part of heaven, is warming our backs; that means we have turned to the west." "you are a wise boy," said idris with esteem. after a while he added: "but the pursuing party will not overtake us nor will you escape." "no," answered stas, "i shall not escape--unless with her." and he pointed to the sleeping girl. until noon they sped almost without pausing for breath, but when the sun rose high in the sky and began to scorch, the camels, which by nature perspire but little, were covered with sweat, and their pace slackened considerably. the caravan again was surrounded by rocks and dunes. the ravines, which during the rainy season are changed into channels of streams, or so-called "khors," came to view more and more frequently. the bedouins finally halted in one of them which was entirely concealed amid the rocks. but they had barely dismounted from the camels when they raised a cry and dashed ahead, bending over every little while and throwing stones ahead of them. stas, who had not yet alighted from the saddle, beheld a strange sight. from among the dry bushes overgrowing the bed of the "khor," a big snake emerged and, gliding sinuously with the rapidity of lightning among the fragments of rocks, escaped to some hiding-place known to itself. the bedouins chased it furiously and gebhr rushed to their aid with a knife. but owing to the unevenness of the ground it was difficult either to hit the snake with a stone or to pin it with a knife. soon all three returned with terror visible on their faces. and the cries, customary with arabs, resounded: "allah!" "bismillah!" "mashallah!" afterwards both sudânese began to look with a kind of strange and, at the same time, searching and inquiring gaze at stas who could not understand what was the matter. in the meantime nell also dismounted from her camel, and though she was less tired than during the night, stas spread for her a saddle-cloth in the shade on a level spot and told her to lie down, in order, as he said, that she might straighten out her little feet. the arabs prepared their noon meal, which consisted of biscuits and dates, together with a gulp of water. the camels were not watered for they had drank during the night. the faces of idris, gebhr and the bedouins were still dejected, and the stop was made in silence. finally idris called stas aside, and began to question him with a countenance at once mysterious and perturbed. "did you see the snake?" "i did." "did you conjure it to appear before us?" "no." "some ill-luck awaits us as those fools did not succeed in killing it." "the gallows awaits you." "be silent! is your father a sorcerer?" "he is," answered stas without any hesitation, for he understood in a moment that those savage and superstitious men regarded the appearance of a reptile as an evil omen and an announcement that the flight would not succeed. "so then your father sent it to us," answered idris, "but he ought to understand that we can avenge ourselves for his charms upon you." "you will not do anything to me as the sons of fatma would have to suffer for any injury to me." "and you already understand this? but remember that if it was not for me, your blood would have flowed under gebhr's courbash--yours and that little 'bint's' also." "i therefore shall intercede for you only; but gebhr shall swing on the rope." at this idris gazed at him for a while as if with astonishment and said: "our lives are not yet in your hands and you already talk to us as our lord--" after a while he added: "you are a strange 'uled' (boy), and such a one i have not yet seen. thus far i have been kind to you, but take heed and do not threaten." "god punishes treachery," answered stas. it was apparent, however, that the assurance with which the boy spoke in connection with the evil omen in the form of a snake which succeeded in escaping, disquieted idris in a high degree. having already mounted the camel he repeated several times: "yes, i was kind to you," as if in any event he wished to impress this upon stas' memory, and afterwards he began to finger the beads of a rosary made of the shells of "dum" nuts, and pray. about two o'clock, though it was in the winter season, the heat became unusual. in the sky there was not a cloudlet, but the horizon's border was disfigured. above the caravan hovered a few vultures whose widely outstretched wings cast moving, black shadows on the tawny sands. in the heated air could be smelt an odor like the gas exhaled from burning charcoal. the camels, not ceasing to run, began to grunt strangely. one of the bedouins approached idris. "some evil is brewing?" "what, do you think?" asked the sudânese. "wicked spirits awoke the wind slumbering on the western desert, and he rose from the sands and is rushing upon us." idris raised himself on the saddle, gazed into the distance, and replied: "that is so. he is coming from the west and south but is not as furious as a khamsin."* [* a southwest wind which blows in the spring.] "three years ago near abu-hamed he buried a whole caravan and did not sweep the sand away until last winter. ualla! he may have enough strength to stuff the nostrils of the camels and dry up the water in the bags." "it is necessary that we speed so that he strike us only with a wing." "we are flying in his eyes and are not able to avoid him." "the quicker he comes, the quicker he will pass away." saying this, idris struck his camel with a courbash and his example was followed by the others. for some time could be heard the dull blows of the thick whips, resembling the clapping of hands, and the cries of "yalla." on the southwest the horizon, previously whitish, darkened. the heat continued and the sun scorched the heads of the riders. the vultures soared very high evidently, for their shadows grew smaller and smaller, and they finally vanished entirely. it became sultry. the arabs yelled at the camels until their throats became parched, after which they were silent and a funereal quiet ensued, interrupted only by the groaning of the animals. two very small foxes* [* an animal smaller than our foxes, called "fennec."] with big ears stole by the caravan, running in an opposite direction. the same bedouin, who had previously conversed with idris, spoke out again in a strange and as if not his own voice: "this will not be a usual wind. evil charms are pursuing us. the snake is to blame for all--" "i know," answered idris. "look! the air quivers. that does not happen in winter." in fact the heated air began to quiver, and in consequence of an illusion of the eyes it seemed to the riders that the sands quivered. the bedouin took his sweaty cowl from his head and said: "the heart of the desert beats with terror." and at this the other bedouin, riding in the lead as a guide of the camels, turned around and began to shout: "he is already coming!--he is coming!" and in truth the wind came up. in the distance appeared as it were dark clouds which in their eyes grew higher and higher and approached the caravan. the nearest waves of air all around became agitated and sudden gusts of wind began to spin the sand. here and there funnels were formed as if someone had drilled the surface of the desert with a cane. at places rose swift whirlpools resembling pillars, thin at the bottom and outspread on top like plumes of feathers. all this lasted but the twinkling of an eye. the cloud which the camel-guide first espied came flying towards them with an inconceivable velocity. it struck the people and beasts like the wing of a gigantic bird. in one moment the eyes and mouths of the riders were filled with sand. clouds of dust hid the sky, hid the sun, and the earth became dusky. the men began to lose sight of one another and even the nearest camel appeared indistinctly as if in a fog. not the rustle--for on the desert there are no trees--but the roar of the whirlwind drowned the calls of the guide and the bellowing of the animals. in the atmosphere could be smelt an odor such as coal smoke gives. the camels stood still and, turning away from the wind, they stretched their long necks downward so that their nostrils almost touched the sand. the sudânese, however, did not wish to allow a stop, as caravans which halt during a hurricane are often buried in sand. at such times it is best to speed with the whirlwind, but idris and gebhr could not do this, for in thus doing they would return to fayûm from where they expected a pursuit. so when the first gale passed they again drove the camels. a momentary stillness ensued but the ruddy dusk dissipated very slowly for the sun could not pierce through the clouds of dust suspended in the air. the thicker and heavier particles of sand began to fall. sand filled all the cracks and punctures in the saddles and clung to the folds of the clothes. the people with each breath inhaled dust which irritated their lungs and grated their teeth. besides, the whirlwind might break out again and hide the whole world. it occurred to stas that if at the time of such darkness he was with nell on the same camel, he might turn around and escape with the wind northward. who knows whether they would be observed amidst the dusk and confusion of the elements, and, if they succeeded in reaching any village on bahr yûsuf near the nile, idris and gebhr would not dare to pursue them for they would at once fall into the hands of the local "police." stas, weighing all this, jostled idris' shoulder and said: "give me the gourd with water." idris did not refuse for howsoever much that morning they had turned into the interior of the desert and quite far from the river, they had enough of water, and the camels drank copiously during the time of their night stop. besides this, as a man acquainted with the desert, he knew that after a hurricane, rain usually follows and the dried-up "khors" change temporarily into streams. stas in reality was thirsty, so he took a good drink, after which, not returning the gourd, he again jostled idris' arm. "halt the caravan." "why?" asked the sudânese. "because i want to sit on the camel with the little 'bint' and give her water." "dinah has a bigger gourd than mine." "but she is greedy and surely has emptied it. a great deal of sand must have fallen into her saddle which you made like a basket. dinah will be helpless." "the wind will break out after a while and will refill it." "that is the more reason why she will require help." idris lashed the camel with his whip and for a while they rode in silence. "why don't you answer?" stas asked. "because i am considering whether it would be better to tie you to the saddle or tie your hands behind." "you have become insane." "no. i have guessed what you intended to do." "the pursuers will overtake us anyway; so i would not have to do it." "the desert is in the hands of god." they became silent again. the thicker sand fell entirely; there remained in the air a subtile red dust, something of the nature of pollen, through which the sun shone like a copper plate. but already they could see ahead. before the caravan stretched level ground at the borders of which the keen eyes of the arabs again espied a cloud. it was higher than the previous one and, besides this, there shot from it what seemed like pillars, or gigantic chimneys expanding at the top. at this sight the hearts of the arabs and bedouins quailed for they recognized the great sandy whirlpools. idris raised his hands and drawing his palms towards his ears began to prostrate himself to the approaching whirlwind. his faith in one god evidently did not prevent his worship and fear of others for stas distinctly heard him say: "lord! we are thy children; therefore do not devour us." but the "lord" just dashed at them and assailed the camels with a force so terrible that they almost fell to the ground. the animals now formed a compact pack with heads turned to the center towards each other. whole masses of sand were stirred. the caravan was enveloped by a dusk deeper than before and in that dusk there flew beside the riders dark and indistinct objects, as though gigantic birds or camels were dispersed with the hurricane. fear seized the arabs, to whom it seemed that these were the spirits of animals and men who had perished under the sands. amid the roar and howling could be heard strange voices similar to sobs, to laughter, to cries for help. but these were delusions. the caravan was threatened by real danger, a hundredfold greater. the sudânese well knew that if any one of the great whirlpools, forming incessantly in the bosom of the hurricane, should catch them in its whirls, it would hurl the riders to the ground and disperse the camels, and if it should break and fall upon them then in the twinkling of an eye an immense sandy mound would cover them in which they would remain until the next hurricane, blowing away the sand, should reveal their skeletons. stas' head swam, his lungs seemed choked, and the sand blinded him. but at times it seemed to him that he heard nell crying and calling; so he thought only of her. taking advantage of the fact that the camels stood in a close pack and that idris might not observe him, he determined to creep over quietly to the girl's camel, not for the purpose of escaping, but to give her assistance and encouragement. but he had barely extended his limbs from under him and stretched out his hands to grasp the edge of nell's saddle, when the giant hand of idris grabbed him. the sudânese snatched him like a feather, laid him before him and began to tie him with a palm rope, and after binding his hands, placed him across the saddle. stas pressed his teeth and resisted as well as he could, but in vain. having a parched throat and a mouth filled with sand he could not convince idris that he desired only to go to the girl's assistance and did not want to escape. after a while, however, feeling that he was suffocating, he began to shout in a stifled voice: "save the little 'bint'! save the little 'bint'!" but the arabs preferred to think of their own lives. the blasts became so terrible that they could not sit on the camels nor could the camels stand in their places. the two bedouins with chamis and gebhr leaped to the ground, in order to hold the animals by cords attached to the mouthpieces under their lower jaws. idris, shoving stas to the rear of the saddle, did the same. the animals spread out their legs as widely as possible in order to resist the furious whirlwind, but they lacked strength, and the caravan, scourged by gravel which cut like hundreds of whips and the sand which pricked like pins, began now slowly, then hurriedly, to turn about and retreat under the pressure. at times the whirlwind tore holes under their feet, then again the sand and gravel bounding from the sides of the camels would form, in the twinkling of an eye, mounds reaching to their knees and higher. in this manner hour passed after hour. the danger became more and more terrible. idris finally understood that the only salvation was to remount the camels and fly with the whirlwind. but this would be returning in the direction of fayûm, where egyptian courts and the gallows were waiting for them. "ha! it cannot be helped," thought idris. "the hurricane will also stop the pursuit and when it ceases, we will again proceed southward." and he began to shout that they should resume their seats on the camels. but at this moment something happened which entirely changed the situation. suddenly, the dusky, almost black, clouds of sand were illumined with a livid light. the darkness then became still deeper, but at the same time there arose, slumbering on high and awakened by the whirlwind, thunder; it began to roll between the arabian and libyan deserts,--powerful, threatening, one might say, angry. it seemed as if from the heavens, mountains and rocks were tumbling down. the deafening peal intensified, grew, shook the world, began to roam all over the whole horizon; in places it burst with a force as terrible as if the shattered vault of heaven had fallen upon earth and afterwards it again rolled with a hollow, continual rumble; again it burst forth, again broke, it blinded with lightning, and struck with thunderbolts, descended, rose, and pealed continuously.* [* the author heard in the vicinity of aden thunder which lasted without intermission for half an hour. see "letters from africa."] the wind subsided as if overawed, and when after a long time somewhere in the immeasurable distance the chain-bolt of heaven rattled, a deadly stillness followed the thunder. but after a while in that silence the voice of the guide resounded. "god is above the whirlwind and the storm. we are saved." they started. but they were enveloped by a night so impenetrable that though the camels ran close together, the men could not see each other and had to shout aloud every little while in order not to lose one another. from time to time glaring lightning, livid or red, illuminated the sandy expanse, but afterwards fell a darkness so thick as to be almost palpable. notwithstanding the hope, which the voice of the guide poured into the hearts of the sudânese, uneasiness did not yet leave them, because they moved blindly, not knowing in truth in which direction they were going;--whether they were moving around in a circle or were returning northward. the animals stumbled against each other every little while and could not run swiftly, and besides they panted strangely, and so loudly that it seemed to the riders that the whole desert panted from fear. finally fell the first drops of rain, which almost always follows a hurricane, and at the same time the voice of the guide broke out amidst the darkness: "khor!" they were above a ravine. the camels paused at the brink; after which they began to step carefully towards the bottom. ix the khor was wide, covered on the bottom with stones among which grew dwarfish, thorny shrubs. a high rock full of crevices and fissures formed its southern wall. the arabs discerned all this by the light of quiet but more and more frequent lightning flashes. soon they also discovered in the rocky wall a kind of shallow cave or, rather, a broad niche, in which people could easily be harbored and, in case of a great downpour, could find shelter. the camels also could be comfortably lodged upon a slight elevation close by the niche. the bedouins and two sudânese removed from them their burdens and saddles, so that they might rest well, and chamis, son of chadigi, occupied himself in the meantime with pulling thorny shrubs for a fire. big single drops fell continually but the downpour began only when the party lay down to sleep. at first it was like strings of water, afterwards ropes, and in the end it seemed as if whole rivers were flowing from invisible clouds. such rains, which occur only once in several years, swell, even in winter time, the water of the canals and the nile, and in aden fill immense cisterns, without which the city could not exist at all. stas never in his life had seen anything like it. at the bottom of the khor the stream began to rumble; the entrance to the niche was veiled as if by a curtain of water; around could be heard only splashing and spluttering. the camels stood on an elevation and the downpour at most would give them a bath; nevertheless the arabs peered out every little while to see if any danger threatened the animals. to the others it was agreeable to sit in the cave, safe from danger, by the bright fire of brushwood, which was not yet soaked. on their faces joy was depicted. idris, who immediately after their arrival had untied stas' hands so that he could eat, now turned to him and smiling contemptuously said: "the mahdi is greater than all white sorcerers. he subdued the hurricane and sent rain." stas did not reply for he was occupied with nell, who was barely alive. first he shook the sand from her hair, afterwards directed old dinah to unpack the things which she, in the belief that the children were going to their parents, brought with her from fayûm. he took a towel, wet it, and wiped the little girl's eyes and face with it. dinah could not do this as seeing but poorly with one eye only, she lost her sight almost entirely during the hurricane and washing her heated eyelids did not bring her any relief. nell submitted passively to all of stas' efforts; she only gazed at him like an exhausted bird, and only when he removed her shoes to spill out the sand and afterwards when he smoothed out the saddle-cloths did she throw her arms around his neck. his heart overflowed with great pity. he felt that he was a guardian, an older brother, and at that time nell's only protector, and he felt at the same time that he loved this little sister immensely, far more than ever before. he loved her indeed in port said, but he regarded her as a "baby"; so, for instance, it never even occurred to him to kiss her hand in bidding her good night. if any one had suggested such an idea to him he would have thought that a bachelor, who had finished his thirteenth year, could not without derogation to his dignity and age do anything like that. but, at present, a common distress awoke in him dormant tenderness; so he kissed not one but both hands of the little girl. lying down, he continued to think of her and determined to perform some extraordinary deed to snatch her from captivity. he was prepared for everything, even for wounds and death; only with this little reservation secreted in his heart, that the wounds should not be too painful, and that the death should not be an inevitable and real death, as in such case he could not witness the happiness of nell when liberated. afterwards he began to ponder upon the most heroic manner of saving her, but his thoughts became confused. for a while it seemed to him that whole clouds of sand were burying him; afterwards that all the camels were piling on his head,--and he fell asleep. the arabs, exhausted by the battle with the hurricane, after attending to the camels, also fell into a sound sleep. the fire became extinct and a dusk prevailed in the niche. soon the snores of the men resounded, and from outside came the splash of the downpour and the roar of the waters clashing over the stones on the bottom of the khor. in this manner the night passed. but before dawn stas was awakened from a heavy sleep by a feeling of cold. it appeared that water which accumulated in the fissures on the top of the rock slowly passed through some cleft in the vault of the cave and began finally to trickle onto his head. the boy sat up on the saddle-cloth and for some time struggled with sleep; he did not realize where he was and what had happened to him. after a while, however, consciousness returned to him. "aha!" he thought, "yesterday there was a hurricane and we are kidnapped, and this is a cave in which we sought shelter from the rain." and he began to gaze around. at first he observed with astonishment that the rain had passed away and that it was not at all dark in the cave, as it was illuminated by the moon which was about to set. in its pale beams could be seen the whole interior of that wide but shallow niche. stas saw distinctly the arabs lying beside each other, and under the other wall of the cave the white dress of nell who was sleeping close to dinah. and again great tenderness possessed his heart. "sleep, nell--sleep," he said to himself; "but i do not sleep, and must save her." after this, glancing at the arabs, he added in his soul: "ah! i do want to have all these rogues--" suddenly he trembled. his gaze fell upon the leather case containing the short rifle presented to him as a christmas gift, and the cartridge boxes lying between him and chamis, so near that it would suffice for him to stretch out his hand. and his heart began to beat like a hammer. if he could secure the rifle and boxes he would certainly be the master of the situation. it would be enough in that case to slip noiselessly out of the niche, hide about fifty paces away, among the rocks, and from there watch the exit of the sudânese and bedouins. he thought that if they awakened and observed his absence they would rush out of the cave together but at that time he could with two bullets shoot down the first two and, before the others could reach him, the rifle could be reloaded. chamis would remain but he could take care of him. here he pictured to himself four corpses lying in a pool of blood, and fright and horror seized his breast. to kill four men! indeed they were knaves, but even so it was a horrifying affair. he recollected that at one time he saw a laborer--a fellah--killed by the crank of a steam dredge, and what a horrible impression his mortal remains, quivering in a red puddle, made upon him! he shuddered at the recollection. and now four would be necessary! four! the sin and the horror! no, no, he was incapable of that. he began to struggle with his thoughts. for himself, he would not do that--no! but nell was concerned; her protection, her salvation, and her life were involved, for she could not endure all this, and certainly would die either on the road or among the wild and brutalized hordes of dervishes. what meant the blood of such wretches beside the life of nell, and could any one in such a situation hesitate? "for nell! for nell!" but suddenly a thought flew like a whirlwind through stas' mind and caused the hair to rise on his head. what would happen if any one of the outlaws placed a knife at nell's breast, and announced that he would murder her if he--stas--did not surrender and return the rifle to them. "then," answered the boy to himself, "i should surrender at once." and with a realization of his helplessness he again flung himself impotently upon the saddle-cloth. the moon now peered obliquely through the opening of the cave and it became less dark. the arabs snored continually. some time passed and a new idea began to dawn in stas' head. if, slipping out with the weapon and hiding among the rocks, he should kill not the men but shoot the camels? it would be too bad and a sad ending for the innocent animals;--that is true, but what was to be done? why, people kill animals not only to save life but for broth and roast meat. now it was a certainty that if he succeeded in killing four, and better still five camels, further travel would be impossible. no one in the caravan would dare to go to the villages near the banks to purchase new camels. and in such a case stas, in the name of his father, would promise the men immunity from punishment and even a pecuniary reward and--nothing else would remain to do but to return. yes, but if they should not give him time to make such a promise and should kill him in the first transports of rage? they must give him time and hear him for he would hold the rifle in his hand; he would be able to hold them at bay until he stated everything. when he had done, they would understand that their only salvation would be to surrender. then he would be in command of the caravan and lead it directly to bahr yûsuf and the nile. to be sure, at present they are quite a distance from it, perhaps one or two days' journey, as the arabs through caution had turned considerably into the interior of the desert. but that did not matter; there would remain, of course, a few camels and on one of them nell would ride. stas began to gaze attentively at the arabs. they slept soundly, as people exceedingly tired do, but as the night was waning, they might soon awaken. it was necessary to act at once. the taking of the cartridge boxes did not present any difficulties as they lay close by. a more difficult matter was to get the rifle, which chamis had placed at his further side. stas hoped that he would succeed in purloining it, but he decided to draw it out of the case and put the stock and the barrels together when he should be about fifty paces from the cave, as he feared that the clank of the iron against iron would wake the sleepers. the moment arrived. the boy bent like an arch over chamis and, seizing the case by the handle, began to transfer it to his side. his heart and pulse beat heavily, his eyes grew dim, his breathing became rapid, but he shut his teeth and tried to control his emotions. nevertheless when the straps of the case creaked lightly, drops of cold perspiration stood on his forehead. that second seemed to him an age. but chamis did not even stir. the case described an arch over him and rested silently beside the box with cartridges. stas breathed freely. one-half of the work was done. now it was necessary to slip out of the cave noiselessly and run about fifty paces; afterwards to hide in a fissure, open the case, put the rifle together, load it, and fill his pockets with cartridges. the caravan then would be actually at his mercy. stas' black silhouette was outlined on the brighter background of the cave's entrance. a second more and he would be on the outside, and would hide in the rocky fissure. and then, even though one of the outlaws should wake, before he realized what had happened and before he aroused the others it would be too late. the boy, from fear of knocking down some stone, of which a large number lay at the threshold of the niche, shoved out one foot and began to seek firm ground with his step. and already his head leaned out of the opening and he was about to slip out wholly when suddenly something happened which turned the blood in his veins to ice. amid the profound stillness pealed like a thunderbolt the joyous bark of saba; it filled the whole ravine and awoke the echoes reposing in it. the arabs as one man were startled from their sleep, and the first object which struck their eyes was the sight of stas with the case in one hand and the cartridge box in the other. ah, saba! what have you done? x with cries of horror, all in a moment rushed at stas; in the twinkling of an eye they wrested the rifle and cartridges from him and threw him on the ground, tied his hands and feet, striking and kicking him all the time, until finally idris, from fear of the boy's life, drove them off. afterwards they began to converse in disjointed words, as people do over whom had impended a terrible danger and whom only an accident had saved. "that is satan incarnate," exclaimed idris, with face pallid with fright and emotion. "he would have shot us like wild geese for food," added gebhr. "ah, if it was not for that dog." "god sent him." "and you wanted to kill him?" said chamis. "from this time no one shall touch him." "he shall always have bones and water." "allah! allah!" repeated idris, not being able to compose himself. "death was upon us. ugh!" and they began to stare at stas lying there, with hatred but with a certain wonder that one small boy might have been the cause of their calamity and destruction. "by the prophet!" spoke out one of the bedouins, "it is necessary to prevent this son of iblis from twisting our necks. we are taking a viper to the mahdi. what do you intend to do with him?" "we must cut off his right hand!" exclaimed gebhr. the bedouins did not answer, but idris would not consent to this proposition. it occurred to him that if the pursuers should capture them, a more terrible punishment would be meted to them for the mutilation of the boy. finally, who could guarantee that stas would not die after such an operation? in such a case for the exchange of fatma and her children only nell would remain. so when gebhr pulled out his knife with the intention of executing his threat, idris seized him by the wrist and held it. "no!" he said. "it would be a disgrace for five of the mahdi's warriors to fear one christian whelp so much as to cut off his fist; we will bind him for the night, and for that which he wanted to do, he shall receive ten lashes of the courbash." gebhr was ready to execute the sentence at once but idris again pushed him away and ordered the flogging to be done by one of the bedouins, to whom he whispered not to hit very hard. as chamis, perhaps out of regard for his former service with the engineers or perhaps from some other reason, did not want to mix in the matter, the other bedouin turned stas over with his back up and the punishment was about to take place, when at that moment an unexpected obstacle came. at the opening of the niche nell appeared with saba. occupied with her pet, who, dashing into the cave, threw himself at once at her little feet, she had heard the shouts of the arabs, but, as in egypt arabs as well as bedouins yell on every occasion as if they are about to annihilate each other, she did not pay any attention to them. not until she called stas and received no reply from him, did she go out to see whether he was not already seated on the camels. with terror she saw in the first luster of the morning stas lying on the ground and above him a bedouin with a courbash in his hand. at the sight of this she screamed with all her strength and stamped with her little feet, and when the bedouin, not paying any attention to this, aimed the first blow, she flung herself forward and covered the boy with her body. the bedouin hesitated, as he did not have an order to strike the little girl, and in the meantime her voice resounded full of despair and horror: "saba! saba!" and saba understood what was the matter and in one leap was in the niche. the hair bristled on his neck and back, his eyes flamed redly, in his breast and powerful throat there was a rumble as if of thunder. and afterwards, the lips of his wrinkled jaws rose slowly upward and the teeth as well as the white fangs, an inch long, appeared as far as the bloody gums. the giant mastiff now began to turn his head to the right and to the left as if he wanted to display well his terrible equipment to the sudânese and bedouins and tell them: "look! here is something with which i shall defend the children!" they, on the other hand, retreated hurriedly for they knew in the first place that saba had saved their lives and again that it was a clear thing that whoever approached nell at that moment would have the fangs of the infuriated mastiff sunk at once in his throat. so they stood irresolute, staring with an uncertain gaze and as if asking one another what in the present situation had better be done. their hesitation continued so long that nell had sufficient time to summon old dinah and order her to cut stas' bonds. then the boy, placing his hand on saba's head, turned to his assailants: "i did not want to kill you--only the camels," he said through his set teeth. but this information so startled the arabs that they undoubtedly would have again rushed at stas were it not for saba's flaming eyes and bristling hair. gebhr even started to dash towards him, but one hollow growl riveted him to the spot. a moment of silence followed, after which idris' loud voice resounded: "to the road! to the road!" xi a day passed, a night, and yet another day and they drove constantly southward, halting only for a brief time in the khors in order not to fatigue the camels too much, to water and feed them, and also to divide their provisions and water. from fear of the pursuit they turned yet farther to the west, for they did not have to concern themselves about water for some time. the downpour had lasted indeed not more than seven hours, but it was as tremendous as if a cloud-burst had occurred on the desert. idris and gebhr as well as the bedouins knew that on the beds of the khors and in those places where the rocks formed natural cavities and wells they would, for a few days, find enough water to suffice not only for their and the camels' immediate wants but even for replenishing their supplies. after the great rain, as usual, splendid weather followed. the sky was cloudless, and the air so transparent that the view reached over an immeasurable distance. at night the heaven, studded with stars, twinkled and sparkled as if with thousands of diamonds. from the desert sands came a refreshing coolness. the camel-humps already grew smaller but the animals, being well-fed, were, according to the arabian expression, "harde," that is, they were unimpaired in strength and ran so willingly that the caravan advanced but little slower than on the first day after their departure from gharak el-sultani. stas with astonishment observed that in some of the khors, in rocky fissures protected from rain, were supplies of durra and dates. he inferred from this that, before their abduction, certain preparations were made and everything was pre-arranged between fatma, idris, and gebhr on one side and the bedouins on the other. it was also easy to surmise that both the bedouins were mahdist adherents and believers, who wanted to join their leader, and for that reason were easily drawn into the plot by the sudânese. in the neighborhood of fayûm and ground gharak el-sultani there were quite a number of bedouins who with their children and camels led a migratory life on the desert and came to medinet and the railway stations for gain. stas, however, had never seen these two before, and they also could not have been in medinet, for it appeared they did not know saba. the idea of attempting to bribe them occurred to the boy, but recollecting their shouts, full of fervor, whenever the name of the mahdi was mentioned by them, he deemed this an impossibility. nevertheless, he did not submit passively to the events, for in that boyish soul there was imbedded a really astonishing energy, which was inflamed by the past failures. "everything which i have undertaken," he soliloquized, "ended in my getting a whipping. but even if they flog me with that courbash every day and even kill me, i will not stop thinking of rescuing nell and myself from the hands of these villains. if the pursuers capture them, so much the better. i, however, will act as if i did not expect them." and at the recollection of what he had met at the thought of those treacherous and cruel people who, after snatching away the rifle, had belabored him with fists and kicked him, his heart rebelled and rancor grew. he felt not only vanquished but humiliated by them in his pride as a white man. above all, however, he felt nell's wrong and this feeling, with the bitterness which intensified within him after the last failure, changed into an inexorable hatred of both sudânese. he had often heard, indeed, from his father that hatred blinds, and that only such souls yield to it as are incapable of anything better; but for the time being he could not subdue it within him, and did not know how to conceal it. he did not know to what extent idris had observed it and had begun to get uneasy, understanding that, in case the pursuing party should capture them, he could not depend upon the boy's intercession. idris was always ready for the most audacious deed, but as a man not deprived of reason, he thought that it was necessary to provide for everything and in case of misfortune to leave some gate of salvation open. for this reason, after the last occurrence he wanted in some manner to conciliate stas and, with this object, at the first stop, he began the following conversation with him. "after what you wanted to do," he said, "i had to punish you as otherwise they would have killed you, but i ordered the bedouin not to strike you hard." and when he received no reply, he, after a while, continued thus: "listen! you yourself have said that the white people always keep their oath. so if you will swear by your god and by the head of that little 'bint' that you will do nothing against us, then i will not order you to be bound for the night." stas did not answer a single word to this and only from the glitter of his eyes did idris perceive that he spoke in vain. nevertheless, notwithstanding the urging of gebhr and the bedouins, he did not order him to be bound for the night, and when gebhr did not cease his importunities, he replied with anger: "instead of going to sleep, you will to-night stand on guard. i have decided that from this time one of us shall watch during the sleep of the others." and in reality a change of guards was introduced permanently from that day. this rendered more difficult and completely frustrated all plans of stas to whom every sentinel paid watchful attention. but on the other hand the children were left in greater freedom so that they could approach each other and converse without hindrance. immediately after the first stop stas sat close to nell for he was anxious to thank her for her aid. but though he felt great gratitude to her he did not know how to express himself, either in a lofty style or tenderly; so he merely began to shake both of her little hands. "nell!" he said, "you are very good and i thank you; and besides this i frankly say that you acted like a person of at least thirteen years." on stas' lips words like these were the highest praise; so the heart of the little woman was consumed with joy and pride. it seemed to her at that moment that nothing was impossible. "wait till i grow up, then they will see!" she replied, throwing a belligerent glance in the direction of the sudânese. but as she did not understand the cause of the trouble and why all the arabs rushed at stas, the boy told her how he had determined to purloin the rifle, kill the camels, and force all to return to the river. "if i had succeeded," he said, "we would now be free." "but they awoke?" asked the little girl with palpitating heart. "they did. that was caused by saba, who came running toward me, barking loud enough to awaken the dead." then her indignation was directed against saba. "nasty saba! nasty! for this when he comes running up to me i won't speak a word to him and will tell him that he is horrid." at this stas, though he was not in a laughing mood, laughed and asked: "how will you be able not to say a word to him and at the same time tell him he is horrid?" nell's eyebrows rose and her countenance reflected embarrassment, after which she said: "he will know that from my looks." "perhaps. but he is not to blame, for he could not know what was happening. remember also that afterwards he came to our rescue." this recollection placated nell's anger a little. she did not, however, want to grant pardon to the culprit at once. "that is very well," she said, "but a real gentleman ought not to bark on greeting." stas burst out laughing again. "neither does a real gentleman bark on leave-taking unless he is a dog, and saba is one." but after a while sorrow dimmed the boy's eyes; he sighed once, then again; after which he rose from the stone on which they sat and said: "the worst is that i could not free you." and nell raised herself on her little toes and threw her arms around his neck. she wanted to cheer him; she wanted, with her little nose close to his face, to whisper her gratitude, but, as she could not find appropriate words, she only squeezed his neck yet more tightly and kissed his ear. in the meantime saba, always late--not so much because he was unable to keep pace with the camels, but because he hunted for jackals on the way, or drove away vultures perched on the crests of rocks with his barking--came rushing up, making his customary noise. the children at the sight of him forgot about everything, and notwithstanding their hard situation began their usual caresses and play until they were interrupted by the arabs. chamis gave the dog food and water, after which all mounted the camels and started with the greatest speed southward. xii it was their longest journey, for they rode with small interruption for eighteen hours. only real saddle-camels, having a good supply of water in their stomachs, could endure such a drive. idris did not spare them, for he really feared the pursuit. he understood that it must have started long ago, and he assumed that both engineers would be at its head and would not lose any time. danger threatened from the direction of the river, for it was certain that immediately after the abduction telegraphic orders were despatched to all settlements on the banks directing the sheiks to start expeditions into the interior of the desert on both sides of the nile, and to detain all parties riding southward. chamis assured the others that the government and engineers must have offered a large reward for their capture and that in consequence of this the desert was undoubtedly swarming with searching parties. the only course to pursue would be to turn as far as possible to the west; but on the west lay the great oasis of kharga, to which despatches also could reach, and besides, if they rode too far west they would lack water after a few days, and death from thirst would await them. and the question of food became a vital one. the bedouins in the course of the two weeks preceding the abduction of the children had placed in hiding-places, supplies of durra, biscuits, and dates, but only for a distance of four days' journey from medinet. idris, with fear, thought that when provisions should be lacking it would be imperatively necessary to send men to purchase supplies at the villages on the river banks, and then these men, in view of the aroused vigilance and reward offered for the capture of the fugitives, might easily fall into the hands of the local sheiks,--and betray the whole caravan. the situation was indeed difficult, almost desperate, and idris each day perceived more plainly upon what an insane undertaking he had ventured. "if we could only pass assuan! if we could only pass assuan!" he said to himself with alarm and despair in his soul. he did not indeed believe chamis who claimed that the mahdi's warriors had already reached assuan, as stas denied this. idris long since perceived that the white "uled" knew more than all of them. but he supposed that beyond the first cataract, where the people were wilder and less susceptible to the influences of englishmen and the egyptian government, he would find more adherents of the prophet, who in a case of emergency would give them succor, and would furnish food and camels. but it was, as the bedouins reckoned, about five days' journey to assuan over a road which became more and more desolate, and every stop visibly diminished their supplies for man and beast. fortunately they could urge the camels and drive with the greatest speed, for the heat did not exhaust their strength. during daytime, at the noon hour, the sun, indeed, scorched strongly but the air was continually invigorating and the nights so cool that stas, with the consent of idris, changed his seat to nell's camel, desiring to watch over her and protect her from catching cold. but his fears were vain, as dinah, whose eyes, or rather, eye, improved considerably, watched with great solicitude over her little lady. the boy was even surprised that the little one's health thus far did not suffer any impairment and that she bore the journey, with everdecreasing stops, as well as himself. grief, fear, and the tears which she shed from longing for her papa evidently did not harm her much. perhaps her slightly emaciated and bright little countenance was tanned by the wind, but in the later days of the journey she felt far less fatigued than at the beginning. it is true that idris gave her the easiest carrying camel and had made an excellent saddle so that she could sleep in it lying down; nevertheless the desert air, which she breathed day and night, mainly gave her strength to endure the hardships and irregular hours. stas not only watched over her but intentionally surrounded her with a worship which, notwithstanding his immense attachment to his little sister, he did not at all feel for her. he observed, however, that this affected the arabs and that they involuntarily were fortified in the conviction that they were bearing something of unheard-of value, some exceptionally important female captive, with whom it was necessary to act with the greatest possible care. idris had been accustomed to this while at medinet; so now all treated her well. they did not spare water and dates for her. the cruel gebhr would not now have dared to raise his hand against her. perhaps the extraordinarily fine stature of the little girl contributed to this, and also that there was in her something of the nature of a flower and of a bird, and this charm even the savage and undeveloped souls of the arabs could not resist. often also, when at a resting place she stood by the fire fed by the roses of jericho or thorns, rosy from the flame and silvery in the moonlight, the sudânese as well as the bedouins could not tear their eyes from her, smacking their lips from admiration, according to their habit, and murmuring: "allah! mashallah! bismillah!" the second day at noon after that long rest, stas and nell who rode this time on the same camel, had a moment of joyful emotion. immediately after sunrise a light and transparent mist rose over the desert, but it soon fell. afterwards when the sun ascended higher, the heat became greater than during the previous days. at moments when the camels halted there could not be felt the slightest breeze, so that the air as well as the sands seemed to slumber in the warmth, in the light, and in the stillness. the caravan had just ridden upon a great monotonous level ground, unbroken by khors, when suddenly a wonderful spectacle presented itself to the eyes of the children. groups of slender palms and pepper trees, plantations of mandarins, white houses, a small mosque with projecting minaret, and, lower, walls surrounding gardens, all these appeared with such distinctness and at distance so close that one might assume that after the lapse of half an hour the caravan would be amid the trees of the oasis. "what is this?" exclaimed stas. "nell, nell! look!" nell rose, and for a time was silent with astonishment, but after a while began to cry with joy: "medinet! to papa! to papa!" and stas turned pale from emotion. "truly--perhaps that is kharga--but no! that is medinet perhaps--i recognize the minaret and even see the windmills above the wells--" in fact, in the distance the highly elevated american windmills resembling great white stars, actually glistened. on the verdant background of the trees they could be seen so perfectly that stas' keen sight could distinguish the borders of the vanes painted red. "that is medinet!--" stas knew from books and narratives that there were on the desert phantasms known as "fata morgana" and that sometimes travelers happen to see oases, cities, tufts of trees and lakes, which are nothing more than an illusion, a play of light, and a reflection of real distant objects. but this time the phenomenon was so distinct, so well-nigh palpable that he could not doubt that he saw the real medinet. there was the turret upon the mudir's house, there the circular balcony near the summit of the minaret from which the muezzin called to prayers, there that familiar group of trees, and particularly those windmills. no,--that must be the reality. it occurred to the boy that the sudânese, reflecting upon their situation, had come to the conclusion that they could not escape and, without saying anything to him, had turned back to fayûm. but their calmness suggested to him the first doubts. if that really was fayûm, would they gaze upon it so indifferently? they, of course, saw the phenomenon and pointed it out to each other with their fingers, but on their faces could not be seen the least perplexity or emotion. stas gazed yet once more and perhaps this indifference of the arabs caused the picture to seem fainter to him. he also thought that, if in truth they were returning, the caravan would be grouped together, and the men, though only from fear, would ride in a body. but, in the meanwhile, the bedouins, who, by idris' order, for the past few days drove considerably in advance, could not be seen at all; while chamis, riding as a rear guard, appeared at a distance not greater than the vulture lying on the ground. "fata morgana," said stas to himself. in the meantime idris approached him and shouted: "heigh! speed your camel! you see medinet!" he evidently spoke jokingly and there was so much spite in his voice that the last hope that the real medinet was before him vanished in the boy's heart. and with sorrow in his heart he turned to nell to dispel her delusion, when unexpectedly an incident occurred which drew the attention of all in another direction. at first a bedouin appeared, running towards them at full speed and brandishing from afar a long arabian rifle which no one in the caravan possessed before that time. reaching idris, he exchanged a few hurried words with him, after which the caravan turned precipitately into the interior of the desert. but, after a time, the other bedouin appeared leading by a rope a fat she-camel, with a saddle on its hump and leather bags hanging on its sides. a short conversation commenced, of which stas could not catch a word. the caravan in full speed made for the west. it halted only when they chanced upon a narrow khor full of rocks scattered in wild disorder, and of fissures and caverns. one of these was so spacious that the sudânese hid the people and camels in it. stas, although he conjectured more or less what had happened, lay beside idris and pretended to sleep, hoping that the arabs, who thus far had exchanged but a few words about the occurrence, would now begin to speak about it. in fact, his hope was not disappointed, for immediately after pouring out fodder for the camels, the bedouins and the sudânese with chamis sat down for a consultation. "henceforth we can ride only in the night; in the daytime we will have to hide!" spoke out the one-eyed bedouin. "there will be many khors now and in each one of them we will find a safe hiding-place." "are you sure that he was a sentinel?" asked idris. "allah! we spoke with him. luckily there was only one. he stood hidden by a rock, so that we could not see him, but we heard from a distance the cry of his camel. then we slackened our speed and rode up so quietly that he saw us only when we were a few paces away. he became very frightened and wanted to aim his rifle at us. if he had fired, though he might not have killed any of us, the other sentinels would have heard the shot; so, as hurriedly as possible, i yelled to him: 'halt! we are pursuing men who kidnapped two white children, and soon the whole pursuit will be here!' the boy was young and foolish, so he believed us; only he ordered us to swear on the koran that such was the case. we got off our camels and swore--" "the mahdi will absolve us--" "and bless you," said idris. "speak! what did you do afterwards?" "now," continued the bedouin, "when we swore, i said to the boy: 'but who can vouch that you yourself do not belong to the outlaws who are running away with the white children, and whether they did not leave you here to hold back the pursuit?' and i ordered him also to take an oath. to this he assented and this caused him to believe us all the more. we began to ask him whether any orders had come over the copper wire to the sheiks and whether a pursuit was organized. he replied: 'yes!' and told us that a great reward was offered, and that all khors at a two days' distance from the river were guarded, and that the great 'baburs' (steamers), with englishmen and troops are continually floating over the river." "neither the 'baburs' nor the troops can avail against the might of allah and the prophet--" "may it be as you say!" "tell us how you finished with the boy?" the one-eyed bedouin pointed at his companion. "abu-anga," he said, "asked him whether there was not another sentinel near-by, and the sentinel replied that there was not; then abu-anga thrust his knife into the sentinel's throat so suddenly that he did not utter a word. we threw him into a deep cleft and covered him with stones and thorns. in the village they will think that he ran away to the mahdi, for he told us that this does happen." "may god bless those who run away as he blessed you," answered idris. "yes! he did bless us," retorted abu-anga, "for we now know that we will have to keep at a three days' distance from the river, and besides we captured a rifle which we needed and a milch she-camel." "the gourds," added the one-eyed, "are filled with water and there is considerable millet in the sacks; but we found but little powder." "chamis is carrying a few hundred cartridges for the white boy's rifle, from which we cannot shoot. powder is always the same and can be used in ours." saying this, idris nevertheless pondered, and heavy anxiety was reflected in his dark face, for he understood that when once a corpse had fallen to the ground, stas' intercession would not secure immunity for them from trial and punishment, if they should fall into the hands of the egyptian government. stas listened with palpitating heart and strained attention. in that conversation there were some comforting things, especially that a pursuit was organized, that a reward was offered, and that the sheiks of the tribes on the river banks had received orders to detain caravans going southward. the boy was comforted also by the intelligence about steamers filled with english troops plying on the upper river. the dervishes of the mahdi might cope with the egyptian army and even defeat it, but it was an entirely different matter with english people, and stas did not doubt for a moment that the first battle would result in the total rout of the savage multitude. so, with comfort in his soul, he soliloquized thus: "even though they wish to bring us to the mahdi, it may happen that before we reach his camp there will not be any mahdi or his dervishes." but this solace was embittered by the thought that in such case there awaited them whole weeks of travel, which in the end must exhaust nell's strength, and during all this time they would be forced to remain in the company of knaves and murderers. at the recollection of that young arab, whom the bedouins had butchered like a lamb, fear and sorrow beset stas. he decided not to speak of it to nell in order not to frighten her and augment the sorrow she felt after the disappearance of the illusory picture of the oasis of fayûm and the city of medinet. he saw before their arrival at the ravine that tears were involuntarily surging to her eyes; therefore, when he had learned everything which he wished to know from the bedouins' narratives, he pretended to awake and walked towards her. she sat in a corner near dinah, eating dates, moistened a little with her tears. but seeing stas, she recollected that not long before he declared that her conduct was worthy of a person of at least thirteen years; so, not desiring to appear again as a child, she bit the kernel of a date with the full strength of her little teeth, so as to suppress her sobs. "nell," said the boy, "medinet--that was an illusion, but i know for a certainty that we are being pursued; so don't grieve, and don't cry." at this the little girl raised towards him her tearful pupils and replied in a broken voice: "no, stas--i do not want to cry--only my eyes--perspire so." but at that moment her chin began to quiver; from under her closed eyelashes big tears gushed and she wept in earnest. however, as she was ashamed of her tears and expected a rebuke for them from stas, a little from shame and a little from fear she hid her head on his bosom, wetting his clothes copiously. but he at once consoled her. "nell, don't be a fountain. you saw that they took away from some arab a rifle and a she-camel. do you know what that means? it means that the desert is full of soldiers. once these wretches succeeded in trapping a sentinel, but the next time they themselves will get caught. a large number of steamboats are plying over the nile also--why, of course, nell, we will return. we will return, and in a steamer to boot. don't be afraid." and he would have comforted her further in this manner, were not his attention attracted by a strange sound coming from the outside, from the sand-drifts, which the hurricane blew onto the bottom of the ravine. it was something resembling the thin, metallic notes of a reed pipe. stas broke off the conversation and began to listen. after a while these very thin and mournful sounds came from many sides simultaneously. through the boy's mind the thought flashed that these might be arabian guards surrounding the ravine and summoning aid with whistles. his heart began to beat. he glanced once and again at the sudânese, hoping that he would behold consternation on their faces; but no! idris, gebhr and the two bedouins calmly chewed biscuits, only chamis appeared a little surprised. the sounds continued. after a while idris rose and looked out of the cavern; returning, he stopped near the children, and said: "the sands are beginning to sing." stas' curiosity was so aroused that he forgot that he had determined not to speak to idris any more and asked: "sands? what does it mean?" "it happens thus, and means that for a long time there will be no rain. but the heat will not distress us, since as far as assuan we will ride only during the night." and no more could be learned from him. stas and nell listened long to these peculiar sounds which continued until the sun descended in the west, after which night fell and the caravan started on its further journey. xiii in the daytime they hid in places concealed and difficult of access, amid rocks and chasms, and during the night they hurried, without respite, until they passed the first cataract. when finally the bedouins discerned from the situation and form of the khors that assuan was behind them, a great burden fell off idris' breast. as they suffered already from want of water they drew nearer to the river a half day's distance. there idris, concealing the caravan, sent all the camels with the bedouins to the nile in order to water them well and for a longer time. beyond assuan the fertile belt along the river was narrower. in some places the desert reached the river; the villages lay at a considerable distance from each other. the bedouins, therefore, returned successfully, unseen by any one, with a considerable supply of water. it was necessary now to think of provisions. as the animals had been fed sparingly during the past week they grew lean; their necks lengthened, their humps sank, and their legs became weak. the durra and the supplies for the people, with the greatest stint, would suffice for two days more. idris thought, however, that they might, if not during daytime then at night, approach the pastures on the river banks and perhaps buy biscuits and dates in some village. saba already was given nothing at all to eat or drink, and the children hid leavings of food for him, but he somehow managed to take care of himself and came running to the stopping places with bleeding jaws and marks of bites on his neck and breast. whether the victim of these fights was a jackal, or a hyena, or perhaps a desert fox or a gazelle no one knew; it was enough that there were no signs of great hunger on him. at times also his black lips were moist as if he drank. the bedouins surmised that he must have dug deep holes at the bottom of the ravines, and in this manner reached water which he scented under the ground. in this manner travelers who get lost dig the bottoms of chasms and, if they do not often find water, they almost always reach damp sand and, sucking it, cheat in this way the pangs of thirst. in saba, however, considerable changes took place. he still had a powerful breast and neck, but his sides were sunken, through which he appeared taller. in his eyes, about the reddened whites, there was now something savage and threatening. to nell and to stas he was as attached as previously and permitted them to do with him whatever they pleased. he still at times wagged his tail at chamis, but he growled at the bedouins and sudânese or snapped with his terrible teeth, which at such times clashed against each other like steel nails. idris and gebhr plainly began to fear and hate him to the extent that they would have killed him with the captured rifle, were it not that they desired to bring this extraordinary animal to smain, and were it not also that they had already passed assuan. they had passed assuan! stas thought of this continually, and doubt that the pursuit would ever overtake them stole gradually into his soul. he knew, indeed, that not only egypt proper, which ends at wâdi haifa, that is, at the second cataract, but the whole of nubia was up to that time in the hands of the egyptian government, but he also understood that beyond assuan and particularly wâdi haifa the pursuit would be more difficult and the commands of the government would be executed carelessly. his only hope was that his father with mr. rawlinson, after making arrangements for the pursuit from fayûm, would go to wâdi haifa by steamer, and there securing troops of the camel-corps, would endeavor to intercept the caravan from the south. the boy reasoned that if he were in their place he would do just this, and for that reason he assumed that his supposition was very probable. he did not, however, abandon the thought of a rescue on his own account. the sudânese wanted to have powder for the captured rifle and with this object decided to disjoin a score of the rifle cartridges, so he told them that he alone was able to do that, and that if any one of them should undertake the task unskilfully, the cartridge would explode in his fingers and tear off his hands. idris, fearing english inventions and unknown things generally, determined finally to entrust the boy with this undertaking. stas went at it willingly, hoping in the first place that the powerful english powder at the first shot would burst the old arabian rifle to pieces, and, again, that he might be able to hide a few cartridges. in fact, he succeeded more easily than he expected. apparently they watched him at the work, but the arabs began at once to talk among themselves and soon they were more occupied with their conversation than with their supervision. finally this loquacity and inbred carelessness permitted stas to conceal in his bosom seven cartridges. now all that was necessary was to secure the rifle. the boy judged that beyond wâdi haifa, the second cataract, this would not be a very difficult matter as he foresaw that as they drew nearer to their destination the arabs' vigilance would relax. the thought that he would have to kill the sudânese, the bedouins, and even chamis, always caused him to shudder, but after the murder which the bedouins had committed, he did not have any scruples. he said to himself that the defense, liberty, and life of nell were involved, and in view of this the lives of his adversaries did not deserve any consideration, especially if they did not surrender and it came to a fight. but he was anxious about the short rifle. stas resolved to secure it by stratagem, whenever the opportunity presented itself, and not to wait until they reached wâdi haifa, but perform the deed as soon as possible. accordingly he did not wait. two days had elapsed since they passed assuan, and idris finally at the dawn of the third day was forced to despatch the bedouins for provisions, which were totally lacking. in view of the diminished number of adversaries stas said to himself: "now or never!" and immediately turned to the sudânese with the following question: "idris, do you know that the country which begins not far beyond wâdi haifa is really nubia?" "i know. i was fifteen years old and gebhr eight, when my father took us from the sudân to fayûm, and i remember that we rode at that time on camels over the whole of nubia. but this country belongs still to the turks (egyptians)." "yes. the mahdi is only before khartûm and you see how foolishly chamis chattered when he told you that the army of dervishes reached as far as assuan. however, i shall ask you something else. now i have read that in nubia there are many wild animals and many brigands who do not serve any one and who attack alike the egyptians and the faithful mahdists. with what will you defend yourself, if wild animals or brigands attack you?" stas purposely exaggerated in speaking of wild animals, but, on the other hand, highway robberies in nubia, from the time of the war, occurred quite frequently, particularly in the southern part of the country bordering upon the sudân. idris pondered for a while over the question, which surprised him, as heretofore he had not thought of these new dangers, and replied: "we have knives and a rifle." "such a rifle is good for nothing." "i know. yours is better, but we do not know how to shoot from it, and we will not place it in your hands." "even unloaded?" "yes, for it may be bewitched." stas shrugged his shoulders. "idris, if gebhr said that, i would not be surprised, but i thought that you had more sense. from an unloaded rifle even your mahdi could not fire--" "silence!" interrupted idris sternly. "the mahdi is able to fire even from his finger." "then you also can fire in that way." the sudânese looked keenly into the boy's eyes. "why do you want me to give you the rifle?" "i want to teach you how to fire from it." "why should that concern you?" "a great deal, for if the brigands attack us they might kill us all. but if you are afraid of the rifle and of me then it does not matter." idris was silent. in reality he was afraid, but did not want to admit it. he was anxious, however, to get acquainted with the english weapon, for its possession and skill in its use would increase his importance in the mahdists' camp, to say nothing of the fact that it would be easier for him to defend himself in case of an attack. so after a brief consideration he said: "good. let chamis hand you the rifle-case and you can take it out." chamis indifferently performed the order, which gebhr could not oppose, as he was occupied at some distance with the camels. stas with quivering hands took out the stock and afterwards the barrels, and handed them to idris. "you see they are empty." idris took the barrels and peered upwards through them. "yes, there is nothing in them." "now observe," said stas. "this is the way to put a rifle together" (and saying this he united the barrel and stock). "this is the way to open it. do you see? i will take it apart again and you can put it together." the sudânese, who watched stas' motions with great attention, tried to imitate him. at first it was not easy for him, but as arabians are well known for their skilfulness, the rifle, after a while, was put together. "open!" commanded stas. idris opened the rifle easily. "close." this was done yet more easily. "now give me two empty shells. i will teach you how to load the cartridges." the arabs had kept the empty cartridges as they had a value for them as brass; so idris handed two of them to stas and the instruction began anew. the sudânese at first was frightened a little by the crack of the caps of the shells, but finally became convinced that no one was able to fire from empty barrels and empty shells. in addition, his trust in stas returned because the boy handed the weapon to him every little while. "yes," said stas, "you already know how to put a rifle together, you know how to open, to close, and to pull the trigger. but now it is necessary for you to learn to aim. that is the most difficult thing. take that empty water gourd and place it at a hundred paces--on those stones, and afterwards return to me; i will show you how to aim." idris took the gourd and without the slightest hesitation walked to the place by the stones which stas had indicated. but before he made the first hundred steps, stas extracted the empty shells and substituted loaded cartridges. not only his heart but the arteries in his temples began to throb with such a force that he thought that his head would burst. the decisive moment arrived--the moment of freedom for nell and himself--the moment of victory--terrible and at the same time desirable. now idris' life was in his hands. one pull of the trigger and the traitor who had kidnapped nell would fall a corpse. but stas, who had in his veins both polish and french blood, suddenly felt that for nothing in the world could he be capable of shooting a man in the back. let him at least turn around and face death in the eye. and after that, what? after that, gebhr would come rushing up, and before he ran ten paces he also would bite the dust. chamis would remain. but chamis would lose his head, and even though he should not lose it, there would be time to insert new cartridges in the barrels. when the bedouins arrived, they would find three corpses, and meet a fate they richly deserved. after that he would only have to guide the camels to the river. all these thoughts and pictures flew like a whirlwind through stas' brain. he felt that what was to happen after a few minutes was at the same time horrible and imperative. the pride of a conqueror surged in his breast with a feeling of aversion for the dreadful deed. there was a moment when he hesitated, but he recalled the tortures which the white prisoners endured; he recalled his father, mr. rawlinson, nell, also gebhr, who struck the little girl with a courbash, and hatred burst out in him with renewed force. "it is necessary!" he said through his set teeth, and inflexible determination was reflected on his countenance, which became as if carved out of stone. in the meantime idris placed the gourd on a stone about a hundred paces distant and turned around. stas saw his smiling face and his whole tall form upon the plain. for the last time the thought flashed through his mind that this living man would fall after a moment upon the ground, clutching the sand with his fingers in the last convulsions of the throes of death. but the hesitation of the boy ended, and when idris sauntered fifty paces toward him, he began slowly to raise the weapon to his eye. but before he touched the trigger with his finger, from beyond the dunes, about a few hundred paces distant, could be heard tumultuous cheers, and in the same minute about twenty riders on horses and camels debouched on the plain. idris became petrified at the sight. stas was amazed no less, but at once amazement gave way to insane joy. the expected pursuit at last! yes! that could not be anything else. evidently the bedouins had been captured in a village and were showing where the rest of the caravan was concealed! idris thought the same. when he collected himself he ran to stas, with face ashen from terror, and, kneeling at his feet, began to repeat in a voice out of breath: "sir, i was kind to you! i was kind to the little 'bint'! remember that!" stas mechanically extracted the cartridges from the barrels and gazed. the riders drove horses and camels at the fullest speed, shouting from joy and flinging upwards their long arabian rifles, which they caught while in full gallop with extraordinary dexterity. in the bright transparent air they could be seen perfectly. in the middle, at the van, ran the two bedouins waving their hands and burnooses as if possessed. after a few minutes the whole band dashed to the caravan. some of the riders leaped off the horses and camels; some remained on their saddles, yelling at the top of their voices. amid these shouts only two words could be distinguished. "khartûm! gordon! gordon! khartûm!" finally one of the bedouins--the one whom his companion called abu-anga--ran up to idris cringing at stas' feet, and began to exclaim: "khartûm is taken! gordon is killed! the mahdi is victorious!" idris stood erect but did not yet believe his ears. "and these men?" he asked with quivering lips. "these men were to seize us, but now are going together with us to the prophet." stas' head swam. xiv it was evident that the last hope of escaping during the journey had become extinct. stas now knew that his schemes would avail nothing; that the pursuit would not overtake them, and that if they endured the hardships of the journey they would reach the mahdi and would be surrendered to smain. the only consolation now was the thought that they were kidnapped so that smain might exchange them for his children. but when would that happen, and what would they encounter before that time? what dreadful misfortune awaited them among the savage hordes intoxicated with blood? would nell be able to endure all these fatigues and privations? this no one could answer. on the other hand, it was known that the mahdi and his dervishes hated christians, and europeans in general; so in the soul of the boy there was bred a fear that the influence of smain might not be sufficient to shield them from indignities, from rough treatment, from the cruelties and the rage of the mahdist believers, who even murdered mohammedans loyal to the government. for the first time since the abduction deep despair beset the boy, and at the same time some kind of vague notion that an untoward fate was persecuting them. why, the idea itself of abducting them from fayûm and conveying them to khartûm was sheer madness which could be committed only by such wild and foolish men as idris and gebhr, not understanding that they would have to traverse thousands of kilometers over a country subject to the egyptian government or, more properly, english people. with proper methods they ought to have been caught on the second day, and nevertheless everything combined so that now they were not far from the second cataract and none of the preceding pursuing parties had overtaken them, and the last one which could have detained them joined the kidnappers and, from this time, would aid them. to stas' despair, to his fears about little nell's fate, was linked a feeling of humiliation that he was unequal to the situation and, what was more, was unable now to devise anything, for even if they returned the rifle and cartridges to him, he could not, of course, shoot all the arabs composing the caravan. and he was gnawed all the more by these thoughts because deliverance had been already so near. if khartûm had not fallen, or if it had fallen only a few days later, these same men, who went over to the side of the mahdi, would have seized their captors and delivered them to the government. stas, sitting on the camel behind idris and listening to their conversation, became convinced that this undoubtedly would have happened. for, immediately after they proceeded upon their further journey, the leader of the pursuing party began to relate to idris what induced them to commit treason to the khedive. they knew previously that a great army--not an egyptian now but an english one--had started southward against the dervishes under the command of general wolseley. they saw a multitude of steamers, which carried formidable english soldiers from assuan to wâdi haifa, from whence a railroad was built for them to abu hâmed. for a long time all the sheiks on the river banks,--those who remained loyal to the government as well as those who in the depth of their souls favored the mahdi,--were certain that the destruction of the dervishes and their prophet was inevitable, for no one had ever vanquished the englishmen. "akbar allah!" interrupted idris, raising his hands upwards. "nevertheless, they have been vanquished." "no," replied the leader of the pursuing party. "the mahdi sent against them the tribes of jaalin, barabra, and janghey, nearly thirty thousand in all of his best warriors, under the command of musa, the son of helu. at abu klea a terrible battle took place in which god awarded the victory to the unbelievers.--yes, it is so. musa, the son of helu, fell, and of his soldiers only a handful returned to the mahdi. the souls of the others are in paradise, while their bodies lie upon the sands, awaiting the day of resurrection. news of this spread rapidly over the nile. then we thought that the english would go farther south and relieve khartûm. the people repeated, 'the end! the end!' and in the meantime god disposed otherwise." "how? what happened?" asked idris feverishly. "what happened?" said the leader with a brightened countenance. "why, in the meantime the mahdi captured khartûm, and during the assault gordon's head was cut off. and as the englishmen were concerned only about gordon, learning of his death, they returned to the north. allah! we again saw the steamers with the stalwart soldiers floating down the river, but did not understand what it meant. the english publish good news immediately and suppress bad. some of our people said that the mahdi had already perished. but finally the truth came to the surface. this region belongs yet to the government. in wâdi haifa and farther, as far as the third and perhaps the fourth cataract, the soldiers of the khedive can be found; nevertheless, after the retirement of the english troops, we believe now that the mahdi will subdue not only nubia and egypt, not only mecca and medina, but the whole world. for that reason instead of capturing you and delivering you to the hands of the government we are going together with you to the prophet." "so orders came to capture us?" "to all the villages, to all the sheiks, to the military garrisons. wherever the copper wire, over which fly the commands of the khedive, does not reach, there came the 'zabdis' (gendarmes) with the announcement that whoever captures you will receive one thousand pounds reward. mashallah!--that is great wealth!--great!" idris glanced suspiciously at the speaker. "but you prefer the blessing of the mahdi?" "yes. he captured such immense booty and so much money in khartûm that he measures the egyptian pounds in fodder sacks and distributes them among his faithful--" "nevertheless, if the egyptian troops are yet in wâdi haifa, and further, they may seize us on the way." "no. it is necessary only to hurry before they recover their wits. now since the retreat of the englishmen they have lost their heads entirely--the sheiks, the loyal to the government, as well as the soldiers and 'zabdis.' all think that the mahdi at any moment will arrive; for that reason those of us who in our souls favored him are now running to him boldly, and nobody is pursuing us, for in the first moments no one is issuing orders and no one knows whom to obey." "yes," replied idris, "you say truly that it is necessary to hurry, before they recover their wits, since khartûm is yet far--" for an instant a faint gleam of hope glimmered again for stas. if the egyptian soldiers up to that time occupied various localities on the banks in nubia, then in view of the fact that the english troops had taken all the steamers, they would have to retreat before the mahdi's hordes by land. in such case it might happen that the caravan would encounter some retreating detachment and might be surrounded. stas reckoned also that before the news of the capture of khartûm circulated among the arabian tribes north of wâdi haifa, considerable time would elapse; the more so as the egyptian government and the english people suppressed it. he therefore assumed that the panic which must have prevailed among the egyptians in the first moment must have already passed away. to the inexperienced boy it never occurred that in any event the downfall of khartûm and the death of gordon would cause people to forget about everything else, and that the sheiks loyal to the government as well as the local authorities would now have something else to do than to think of rescuing two white children. and in fact the arabs who joined the caravan did not fear the pursuit very much. they rode with great haste and did not spare the camels, but they kept close to the nile and often during the night turned to the river to water the animals and to fill the leather bags with water. at times they ventured to ride to villages even in daytime. for safety they sent in advance for scouting a few men who, under the pretext of buying provisions, inquired for news of the locality; whether there were any egyptian troops near-by and whether the inhabitants belonged to "the loyal turks." if they met residents secretly favoring the mahdi, then the entire caravan would visit the village, and often it happened that it was increased by a few or even a dozen or more young arabs who also wanted to fly to the mahdi. idris learned also that almost all the egyptian detachments were stationed on the side of the nubian desert, therefore on the right, the eastern side of the nile. in order to avoid an encounter with them it was necessary only to keep to the left bank and to pass by the larger cities and settlements. this indeed lengthened their route a great deal, for the river, beginning at wâdi haifa, forms a gigantic arch inclining far towards the south and afterwards again curving to the northeast as far as abu hâmed, where it takes a direct southern course, but on the other hand this left bank, particularly from the oasis of selimeh, was left almost entirely unguarded. the journey passed merrily for the sudânese in an increased company with an abundance of water and supplies. passing the third cataract, they ceased even to hurry, and rode only at night, hiding during the day among sandy hills and ravines with which the whole desert was intersected. a cloudless sky now extended over them, gray at the horizon's edges, bulging in the center like a gigantic cupola, silent and calm. with each day, however, the heat, in proportion to their southward advance, became more and more terrible, and even in the ravines, in the deep shade, it distressed the people and the beasts. on the other hand, the nights were very cool; they scintillated with twinkling stars which formed, as it were, greater and smaller clusters. stas observed that they were not the same constellations which shone at night over port said. at times he had dreamed of seeing sometime in his life the southern cross, and finally beheld it beyond el-ordeh. but at present its luster proclaimed to him his own misfortune. for a few nights there shone for him the pale, scattered, and sad zodiacal light, which, after the waning of the evening twilight, silvered until a late hour the western side of the sky. xv in two weeks after starting from the neighborhood of wâdi haifa the caravan entered upon the region subdued by the mahdi. they speedily crossed the hilly jesira desert, and near shendi, where previously the english forces had completely routed musa, uled of helu, they rode into a locality entirely unlike the desert. neither sands nor dunes could be seen here. as far as the eye could reach stretched a steppe overgrown in part by green grass and in part by a jungle amid which grew clusters of thorny acacias, yielding the well-known sudânese gum; while here and there stood solitary gigantic nabbuk trees, so expansive that under their boughs a hundred people could find shelter from the sun. from time to time the caravan passed by high, pillar-like hillocks of termites or white ants, with which tropical africa is strewn. the verdure of the pasture and the acacias agreeably charmed the eyes after the monotonous, tawny-hued sands of the desert. in the places where the steppe was a meadow, herds of camels pastured, guarded by the armed warriors of the mahdi. at the sight of the caravan they started up suddenly, like birds of prey; rushed towards it, surrounded it from all sides; and shaking their spears and at the same time yelling at the top of their voices they asked the men from whence they came, why they were going southward, and whither they were bound? at times they assumed such a threatening attitude that idris was compelled to reply to their questions in the greatest haste in order to avoid attack. stas, who had imagined that the inhabitants of the sudân differed from other arabs residing in egypt only in this, that they believed in the mahdi and did not want to acknowledge the authority of the khedive, perceived that he was totally mistaken. the greater part of those who every little while stopped the caravan had skins darker than even idris and gebhr, and in comparison with the two bedouins were almost black. the negro blood in them predominated over the arabian. their faces and breasts were tattooed and the prickings represented various designs, or inscriptions from the koran. some were almost naked; others wore "jubhas" or wrappers of cotton texture sewed out of patches of various colors. a great many had twigs of coral or pieces of ivory in their pierced nostrils, lips and ears. the heads of the leaders were covered with caps of the same texture as the wrappers, and the heads of common warriors were bare, but not shaven like those of the arabs in egypt. on the contrary, they were covered with enormous twisted locks, often singed red with lime, with which they rubbed their tufts of hair for protection against vermin. their weapons were mainly spears, terrible in their hands; but they did not lack remington carbines which they had captured in their victorious battles with the egyptian army and after the fall of khartûm. the sight of them was terrifying and their behavior toward the caravan was hostile, for they suspected that it consisted of egyptian traders, whom the mahdi, in the first moments after the victory, prohibited from entering the sudân. having surrounded the caravan, they pointed the spears with tumult and menace at the breasts of the people, or aimed carbines at them. to this hostile demonstration idris answered with a shout that he and his brother belonged to the dongolese tribe, the same as that of the mahdi, and that they were conveying to the prophet two white children as slaves; this alone restrained the savages from violence. in stas, when he came in contact with this dire reality, the spirit withered at the thought of what awaited them on the ensuing days. idris, also, who previously had lived long years in a civilized community, had never imagined anything like this. he was pleased when one night they were surrounded by an armed detachment of the emir nur el-tadhil and conducted to khartûm. nur el-tadhil, before he ran away to the mahdi, was an egyptian officer in a negro regiment of the khedive: so he was not so savage as the other mahdists and idris could more easily make himself understood. but here disappointment awaited him. he imagined that his arrival at the mahdi's camp with the white children would excite admiration, if only on account of the extraordinary hardships and dangers of the journey. he expected that the mahdists would receive him with ardor, with open arms, and lead him in triumph to the prophet, who would lavish gold and praises upon him as a man who had not hesitated to expose his head in order to serve his relative fatma. in the meantime the mahdists placed spears at the breasts of members of the caravan, and nur el-tadhil heard quite indifferently his narrative of the journey, and finally to the question, whether he knew smain, the husband of fatma, answered: "no. in omdurmân and khartûm there are over one hundred thousand warriors, so it is easy not to meet one another, and not all the officers are acquainted with each other. the domain of the prophet is immense; therefore many emirs rule in distant cities in sennâr, in kordofân, and darfur, and around fashoda. it may be that this smain, of whom you speak, is not at present at the prophet's side." idris was nettled by the slighting tone with which nur spoke of "this smain," so he replied with a shade of impatience: "smain is married to a first cousin of the mahdi, and therefore smain's children are relatives of the prophet." nur el-tadhil shrugged his shoulders. "the mahdi has many relatives and cannot remember all of them." for some time they rode in silence; after which idris again asked: "how soon shall we arrive at khartûm?" "before midnight," replied el-tadhil, gazing at the stars which began to appear in the eastern part of the heavens. "shall we at that late hour be able to obtain food and fodder? since our last rest at noon we have not eaten anything." "you will pass this night with me and i shall feed you in my house, but to-morrow in omdurmân you will have to seek for food yourself, and i warn you in advance that this will not be an easy matter." "why?" "because we have a war. the people for the past few years have not tilled the fields and have lived solely upon meat; so when finally cattle were lacking, famine came. there is famine in all the sudân, and a sack of durra today costs more than a slave." "allah akbar!" exclaimed idris with surprise, "i saw nevertheless herds of camels and cattle on the steppes." "they belong to the prophet, to the 'noble,'* [* the noble brothers and relatives of the mahdi.] and to the caliphs.--yes--the dongolese, from which tribe the mahdi came and the baggara, whose leader is the chief caliph, abdullahi, have still quite numerous herds, but for other tribes it has become more and more difficult to live in the world." here nur el-tadhil patted his stomach, and said: "in the service of the prophet i have a higher rank, more money, and a greater authority, but i had a fuller stomach in the khedive's service." but, realizing that he might have said too much, after a while he added: "but all this will change when the true faith conquers." idris, hearing these words, involuntarily thought that nevertheless in fayûm, in the service of the englishmen, he had never suffered from hunger, and gains could be more easily secured; so he was cast into a deep gloom. after which he began to ask further: "are you going to transport us to-morrow to omdurmân?" "yes. khartûm by command of the prophet is to be abandoned and very few reside there. they are razing the large buildings and conveying the bricks with the other booty to omdurmân. the prophet does not wish to live in a place polluted by unbelievers." "i shall beat my forehead before him to-morrow, and he will command that i be supplied with provisions and fodder." "ha! if in truth you belong to the dongolese, then perhaps you might be admitted to his presence. but know this, that his house is guarded day and night by a hundred men equipped with courbashes, and these do not spare blows to those who crave to see the mahdi without permission. otherwise the swarm would not give the holy man a moment of rest--allah! i saw even dongolese with bloody welts on their backs--" idris with each moment was possessed by greater disillusionment. "so the faithful do not see the prophet?" he asked. "the faithful see him daily at the place of prayer where, kneeling on the sheep's hide, he raises his hands to god, or when he instructs the swarm and strengthens them in the true faith. but it is difficult to reach and speak with him, and whoever attains that happiness is envied by all, for upon him flows the divine grace which wipes away his former sins." a deep night fell and with it came a piercing chill. in the ranks resounded the snorting of horses; the sudden change from the daily heat to cold was so strong that the hides of the steeds began to reek, and the detachment rode as if in a mist. stas, behind idris, leaned towards nell and asked: "do you feel cold?" "no," answered the little girl, "but no one will protect us now--" and tears stifled her further words. this time he did not find any comfort for her, for he himself was convinced that there was no salvation for them. now they rode over a region of wretchedness, famine, bestial cruelties, and blood. they were like two poor little leaves in a storm which bore death and annihilation not only to the heads of individuals, but to whole towns and entire tribes. what hand could snatch from it and save two small, defenseless children? the moon rolled high in the heaven and changed, as if into silvery feathers, the mimosa and acacia twigs. in the dense jungles resounded here and there the shrill and, at the same time, mockingly mirthful laugh of the hyenas, which in that gory region found far too many corpses. from time to time the detachment conducting the caravan encountered other patrols and exchanged with them the agreed countersign. they came to the hills on the river banks and through a long pass reached the nile. the people and the camels embarked upon wide and flat "dahabeahs," and soon the heavy oars began with measured movements to break and ruffle the smooth river's depth, strewn with starry diamonds. after the lapse of half an hour, on the southern side, on which dahabeahs floated upon the water, flashed lights which, as crafts approached them, changed into sheaves of red luster lying on the water. nur el-tadhil shook idris' arm, after which, stretching out his hand before him, he said: "khartûm!" xvi they stopped at the city's limits in a house which formerly was the property of a rich italian merchant, and after his murder during the assault upon the city, had fallen to tadhil at the division of the spoils. the wives of the emir in quite a humane manner took charge of nell who was barely alive after the rough treatment, and, though in all khartûm could be felt a want of provisions, they found for the little "jan"* [* "jan," an expression of endearment, like "little lamb."] a few dried dates and a little rice with honey; after which they led her upstairs and put her to bed. stas, who passed the night among the camels and horses in the courtyard, had to be content with one biscuit; on the other hand, he did not lack water, for the fountain in the garden, by a strange chance, was not wrecked. notwithstanding great weariness, he could not sleep; first on account of scorpions creeping incessantly over the saddle-cloth on which he lay, and again on account of a mortal dread that they would separate him from nell, and that he would not be able to watch over her personally. this uneasiness was evidently shared by saba, who scented about and from time to time howled, all of which enraged the soldiers. stas quieted him as well as he could from fear that some injury might be done to him. fortunately the giant mastiff aroused such admiration in the emir himself and in all the dervishes that no one lifted a hand against him. idris also did not sleep. from the previous day he had felt unwell and, besides, after the conversation with nur el-tadhil he lost many of his delusions, and gazed at the future as though through a thick veil. he was glad that on the morrow they would be transported to omdurmân, which was separated from khartûm only by the width of the white nile; he had a hope that he would find smain there, but what further? during the journey everything had presented itself to him somewhat more distinctly and far more splendidly. he sincerely believed in the prophet and his heart was drawn all the more to him because both came from the same tribe. but in addition he was, like almost every arab, covetous and ambitious. he had dreamed that he would be loaded with gold and made an emir at least; he had dreamed of military expeditions against the "turks," of captured cities and spoils. now, after what he had heard from el-tadhil, he began to fear whether in the presence of far greater events, all his acts would not fade into insignificance, just as a drop of rain disappears in the sea. "perhaps," he thought with bitterness, "nobody will pay attention to what i have accomplished, and smain will not even be pleased that i have brought those children to him;" and he was gnawed by this thought. the morrow was to dispel or confirm those fears; so he awaited it with impatience. the sun rose at six o'clock, and the bustle among the dervishes began. nur el-tadhil soon appeared and ordered them to prepare for the journey. he declared at the same time that they would go to the ferry on foot, beside his horse. to stas' great joy, dinah led nell from an upper floor; after which they proceeded on the rampart, skirting the whole city, as far as the place at which the ferry boats stopped. nur el-tadhil rode ahead on horseback. stas escorted nell by the hand; after them came idris, gebhr, and chamis, with dinah and saba, as well as thirty of the emir's soldiers. the rest of the caravan remained in khartûm. stas, gazing around, could not understand how a city so strongly fortified, and lying in a fork formed by the white and blue niles, and therefore surrounded on three sides by water and accessible only from the south, could fall. only later did he learn from a christian slave that the river at that time had subsided and left a wide sandy strip, which facilitated access to the ramparts. the garrison, losing hope of relief and reduced by hunger, could not repel the assault of the infuriated savages, and the city was captured; after which a massacre of the inhabitants took place. traces of the battle, though a month had already elapsed since the assault, could everywhere be seen along the ramparts; on the inside protruded the ruins of razed buildings against which the first impetus of the victors had been directed and on the outside the moat was full of corpses, which no one thought of burying. before they reached the ferry stas counted over four hundred. they did not, however, infect the air as the sudânese sun dried them up like mummies; all had the hue of gray parchment, and were so much alike that the bodies of the europeans, egyptians, and negroes could not be distinguished from each other. amid the corpses swarmed small gray lizards, which, at the approach of men, quickly hid under those human remains and often in the mouths or between the dried-up ribs. stas walked with nell in such a manner as to hide this horrible sight from her, and told her to look in the direction of the city. but from the side of the city many things transpired which struck the eyes and soul of the little girl with terror. the sight of the "english" children, taken into captivity, and of saba led with a leash by chamis attracted a throng, which as the procession proceeded to the ferry increased with each moment. the throng after a certain time became so great that it was necessary to halt. from all sides came threatening outcries. frightfully tattooed faces leaned over stas and over nell. some of the savages burst out into laughter at the sight of them and from joy slapped their hips with the palms of their hands; others cursed them; some roared like wild beasts, displaying their white teeth and rolling their eyes; finally they began to threaten and reach out towards them with knives. nell, partly unconscious from fright, clung to stas, while he shielded her as well as he knew how, in the conviction that their last hour was approaching. fortunately this persistent molestation of the brutal swarm at last disgusted even nur el-tadhil. by his command between ten and twenty soldiers surrounded the children, while the others began, without mercy, to scourge the howling mob with courbashes. the concourse dispersed hurriedly, but on the other hand a mob began to gather behind the detachment and amid wild shrieks accompanied it to the boat. the children breathed more freely during the passage over the river. stas comforted nell with the statement that when the dervishes became accustomed to the sight of them they would cease their threats, and he assured her that smain would protect and defend both of them, and particularly her, for if any evil should befall them he would not have any one to exchange for his children. this was the truth, but the little girl was so terror-stricken by the previous assaults that, having seized stas' hand, she did not want to let go of it for a moment, repeating continually, as if in a fever: "i am afraid! i am afraid!" he with his whole soul wished to get as soon as possible into the hands of smain, who knew them of old, and who in port said had displayed great friendship towards them, or at least had pretended to display it. at any rate he was not so wild as the other dongolese of the sudân, and captivity in his house would be more endurable. the only concern now was whether they would find him in omdurmân. of this idris spoke with nur el-tadhil, who at last recollected that a year before, while tarrying by the order of the caliph abdullahi in kordofân, far from khartûm, he had heard of a certain smain, who taught the dervishes how to fire from the cannons captured from the egyptians, and afterwards became a slave hunter. nur suggested to idris the following method of finding him: "at noon, when you hear the sounds of the umbajas,* [* umbajas--big trumpets of ivory tusk.] be with the children at the place of prayer, to which the mahdi repairs daily to edify the faithful with an example of piety and to fortify them in the faith. there besides the sacred person of the mahdi you will behold all the 'nobles' and also the three caliphs as well as the pashas and emirs; among the emirs you may find smain." "but what am i to do and where shall i stay until the time of the afternoon prayer?" "you will remain with my soldiers." "and will you, nur el-tadhil, leave us?" "i am going for orders to the caliph abdullahi." "is he the greatest of caliphs? i come from far and though the names of the commanders have reached my ears, nevertheless you may instruct me more definitely about them." "abdullahi my commander is the mahdi's sword." "may allah make him the son of victory." for some time the boat floated in silence. there could be heard only the grating of the oars on the boat's edges and once in a while a splash of water by a crocodile struck in the tail. many of these ugly reptiles had swam down from the south to khartûm, where they found an abundance of food, for the river teemed with corpses, not only of the people who were slaughtered after the capture of the city, but also of those who died of diseases which raged amidst the mahdists and particularly among the slaves. the commands of the caliphs prohibited, indeed, "the contamination of the water," but they were not heeded, and the bodies which the crocodiles did not devour floated with the water, face downward, to the sixth cataract and even as far as beber. but idris thought of something else, and after a while said: "this morning we did not get anything to eat. i do not know whether we can hold out from hunger until the hour of prayer, and who will feed us later?" "you are not a slave," replied tadhil, "and can go to the market-place where merchants display their supplies. there you can obtain dried meat and sometimes dochnu (millet), but for a high price; as i told you, famine reigns in omdurmân." "but in the meantime wicked people will seize and kill those children." "the soldiers will protect them, and if you give money to any one of them, he will willingly go for provisions." this advice did not please idris who had a greater desire to take money than to give it to any one, but before he was able to make reply the boat touched the bank. to the children omdurmân appeared different from khartûm. in the latter place there were houses of several stories built of brick and stone; there was a "mudirya," that is, a governor's palace in which the heroic gordon had perished; there were a church, a hospital, missionary buildings, an arsenal, great barracks for the troops and a large number of greater and smaller gardens with magnificent tropical plants. omdurmân, on the other hand, seemed rather a great encampment of savages. the fort which stood on the northern side of the settlement had been razed by command of gordon. as a whole, as far as the eye could reach the city consisted of circular conical huts of dochnu straw. narrow, thorny little fences separated these huts from each other and from the streets. here and there could be seen tents, evidently captured from the egyptians. elsewhere a few palm mats under a piece of dirty linen stretched upon bamboo constituted the entire residence. the population sought shelter under the roofs during rain or exceptional heat; for the rest they passed their time, built fires, cooked food, lived, and died out-of-doors. so the streets were so crowded that in places the detachment with difficulty forced its way through the multitude. formerly omdurmân was a wretched village; at present, counting the ives, over two hundred thousand people were huddled in it. even the mahdi and his caliphs were perturbed by this vast concourse, which was threatened with famine and disease. they continually despatched to the north expeditions to subjugate localities and cities, loyal yet to the egyptian government. at the sight of the white children here also resounded unfriendly cries, but at least the rabble did not threaten with death. it may be that they did not dare to, being so close to the prophet's side, and perhaps because they were more accustomed to the sight of prisoners who were all transported to omdurmân immediately after the capture of khartûm. stas and nell, however, saw hell on earth. they saw europeans and egyptians lashed with courbashes until they bled; hungry, thirsty, bending under burdens which they were commanded to carry or under buckets of water. they saw european women and children, who were reared in affluence, at present begging for a handful of durra or a shred of meat; covered with rags, emaciated, resembling specters, with faces swarthy from want, on which dismay and despair had settled, and with a bewildered stare. they saw how the savages burst into laughter at the sight of these unfortunates; how they pushed and beat them. on all the streets and alleyways there were not lacking sights from which the eyes turned away with horror and aversion. in omdurmân, dysentery and typhoid fever, and, above all, small-pox raged in a virulent form. the sick, covered with sores, lay at the entrances of the hovels, infecting the air. the prisoners carried, wrapped in linen, the bodies of the newly dead to bury them in the sand beyond the city, where the real charge of the funeral was assumed by hyenas. above the city hovered flocks of vultures from whose wings fell melancholy shadows upon the illuminated sand. stas, witnessing all this, thought that the best for him and nell would be to die as soon as possible. nevertheless, in this sea of human wretchedness and malice there bloomed at times compassion, as a pale flower blooms in a putrid marsh. in omdurmân there were a few greeks and copts whom the mahdi had spared because he needed them. these not only walked about freely, but engaged in trade and various affairs, and some, especially those who pretended to change their faith, were even officers of the mahdi, and this gave them considerable importance among the wild dervishes. one of these greeks stopped the detachment and began to question the children as to how they happened to be there. learning with amazement that they had just arrived, and that they had been kidnapped from far-away fayûm, he promised to speak about them to the mahdi and to inquire about them in the future. in the meantime he nodded his head compassionately at nell and gave to each a few handfuls of dried wild figs and a silver dollar with an image of maria theresa. after which he admonished the soldiers not to dare to do any harm to the little girl, and he left, repeating in english: "poor little bird!" xvii through tortuous little streets they finally arrived at the market-place which was situated in the center of the city. on the way they saw many men with a hand or foot cut off. they were thieves or transgressors who had concealed booty. the punishment meted by the caliphs for disobedience or violation of the laws promulgated by the prophet was horrible, and even for a trivial offense, such as smoking tobacco, the delinquent was whipped with courbashes until he bled or became unconscious. but the caliphs themselves observed these commands only seemingly; at home they indulged in everything, so that the penalties fell upon the poor, who at one blow were despoiled of all their goods. afterwards there remained for them nothing to do but beg; and as in omdurmân there was a scarcity of provisions they died of starvation. a large number of beggars also swarmed around the provision stalls. the first object, however, which attracted the attention of the children was a human head fastened on a high bamboo set up in the center of the market-place. the face of this head was dried up and almost black, while the hair on the skull and the chin was as white as milk. one of the soldiers explained to idris that that was gordon's head. stas, when he heard this, was seized by fathomless sorrow, indignation, and a burning desire for revenge; at the same time terror froze the blood in his veins. thus had perished that hero, that knight without fear and without reproach; a man, just and kind, who was loved even in the sudân. and the english people had not come in time to his aid, and later retired, leaving his remains without a christian burial, to be thus dishonored! stas at that moment lost his faith in the english people. heretofore he naïvely believed that england, for an injury to one of her citizens, was always ready to declare war against the whole world. at the bottom of his soul there had lain a hope that in behalf of rawlinson's daughter, after the unsuccessful pursuit, formidable english hosts would be set in motion even as far as khartûm and farther. now he became convinced that khartûm and that whole region was in the hands of the mahdi, and that the egyptian government and england were thinking rather of preserving egypt from further conquests than of delivering the european prisoners from captivity. he understood that he and nell had fallen into an abyss from which there was no escape, and these thoughts, linked with the horrors which he witnessed on the streets of omdurmân, disheartened him completely. his customary energy gave way to total passive submission to fate and a dread of the future. in the meantime he began aimlessly to gaze about the market-place and at the stalls at which idris was bargaining for provisions. the hucksters, mainly sudânese women and negresses, sold jubhas here, that is, white linen gowns, pieced together with many colored patches, acacia gum, hollow gourds, glass beads, sulphur and all kinds of mats. there were a few stalls with provisions and around all of them the throng pressed. the mahdists bought at high prices principally dried strips of meat of domestic animals; likewise of buffaloes, antelopes and giraffes. dates, figs, manioc, and durra were totally lacking. they sold here and there water and honey of wild bees, and grains of dochnu soaked in a decoction of tamarind fruit. idris fell into despair, for it appeared that in view of the prevailing market-prices he would soon exhaust all the money he had received from fatma smain for living expenses and afterwards would, in all probability, have to beg. his only hope now was in smain, and strangely enough stas also relied solely upon smain's assistance. after a lapse of an hour nur el-tadhil returned from the caliph abdullahi. evidently he had met with some kind of disagreeable mishap there, for he returned in a bad humor. so when idris asked him if he had learned anything about smain, he replied testily: "fool, do you think that the caliph and i have nothing better to do than to seek smain for you?" "well, what are you going to do with me?" "do what you please. i gave you a night's lodging in my house and a few words of good advice, and now i do not want to know anything more about you." "that is well, but where shall i find shelter?" "it is all the same to me." saying this he took the soldiers and went away. with great difficulty idris prevailed upon him to send to the market-place the camels and the rest of the caravan, including those arabs who had joined it between assuan and wâdi haifa. these people did not come until the afternoon, and it appeared that none of them knew what they were going to do. the two bedouins began to quarrel with idris and gebhr, claiming that they had promised them an entirely different reception and that they had cheated them. after a long dispute and much deliberation they finally decided to erect at the outskirts of the city huts of dochnu boughs and reeds as shelter during the night, and for the rest to depend upon the will of providence, and wait. after the erection of the huts, which employment does not require much time from sudânese and negroes, all, excepting chamis, who was to prepare the supper, repaired to the place of public prayer. it was easy for them to find it, as the swarm of all omdurmân was bound thither. the place was spacious, encircled partly by a thorny fence and partly by a clay enclosure which was being built. in the center stood a wooden platform. the prophet ascended it whenever he desired to instruct the people. in front of the platform were spread upon the ground sheep hides for the mahdi, the caliphs, and eminent sheiks. planted at the sides were the flags of emirs, which fluttered in the air, displaying all colors and looking like great flowers. the four sides were surrounded by the compact ranks of dervishes. around could be seen a bold, numberless forest of spears, with which almost all the warriors were armed. it was real good fortune for idris and gebhr, and for the other members of the caravan, that they were taken for a retinue of one of the emirs. for that reason they could press forward to the first rows of the assembled throng. the arrival of the mahdi was announced by the beautiful and solemn notes of umbajas, but when he appeared there resounded the shrill notes of fifes, the beating of drums, the rattle of stones shaken in empty gourds, and whistling on elephants' teeth, all of which combined created an infernal din. the swarm was swept by an indescribable fervor. some threw themselves on their knees; others shouted with all their strength: "oh! messenger of god!" "oh! victorious!" "oh! merciful!" "oh! gracious!" this continued until the mahdi entered the pulpit. then a dead stillness fell while he raised his hands, placed his big fingers to his ears, and for some time prayed. the children did not stand far away, and could see him well. he was a middle-aged man, prodigiously obese as though bloated, and almost black. stas, who had an unusually keen sight, perceived that his face was tattooed. in one ear he wore a big ivory ring. he was dressed in a white jubha and had a white cap on his head. his feet were bare, as on mounting the platform he shook off red half-boots and left them on the sheep's hide on which he was afterwards to pray. there was not the least luxury in his clothing. only at times the wind carried a strong sandal* [* from sandal wood, from which in the east a fragrant oil is derived.] scent which the faithful present inhaled eagerly through their nostrils; at the same time they rolled their eyes from joy. on the whole stas had pictured differently this terrible prophet, plunderer, and murderer of so many thousand people, and looking now at the fat face with its mild look, with eyes suffused with tears, and with a smile, as though grown to those lips, he could not overcome his astonishment. he thought that such a man ought to bear on his shoulders the head of a hyena or a crocodile, and instead he saw before him a chubby-faced gourd, resembling drawings of a full moon. but the prophet began his instruction. his deep and resonant voice could be heard perfectly all over the place, so that his words reached the ears of all the faithful. he first spoke of the punishments which god meted out to those who disobey the commands of the mahdi, and hide booty, get intoxicated upon merissa, spare the enemy in battles, and smoke tobacco. on account of these crimes allah sends upon the sinners famine and that disease which changes the face into a honey-comb (small-pox). temporal life is like a leaky leather bottle. riches and pleasure are absorbed in the sand which buries the dead. only faith is like a cow which gives sweet milk. but paradise will open only for the victorious. whoever vanquishes the enemy wins for himself salvation. whoever dies for the faith will rise from the dead for eternity. happy, a hundredfold more happy are those who already have fallen. "we want to die for the faith!" answered the swarm in one tumultuous shout. and for a while an infernal uproar again prevailed. the umbajas and drums sounded. the warriors struck sword against sword, spear against spear. the martial ardor spread like a flame. some cried: "the faith is victorious!" others: "to paradise through death!" stas now understood why the egyptian army could not cope with this wild host. when the hubbub had somewhat subsided, the prophet resumed his address. he told them of his visions and of the mission which he had received from god. allah commanded him to purify the faith and spread it over the entire world. whoever does not acknowledge him as the mahdi, the redeemer, is condemned to damnation. the end of the world is already near, but before that time it is the duty of the faithful to conquer egypt, mecca, and all those regions beyond the seas where the gentiles dwell. such is the divine will which nothing can change. a great deal of blood will flow yet; many warriors will not return to their wives and children under their tents, but the happiness of those who fall no human tongue can describe. after which he stretched out his arms towards the assembled throng and concluded thus: "therefore i, the redeemer and servant of god, bless this holy war and you warriors. i bless your toils, wounds, death; i bless victory, and weep over you like a father who has conceived an affection for you." and he burst into a flood of tears. when he descended from the pulpit a roar and a clamor resounded. weeping became general. below, the two caliphs abdullahi and ali uled helu took the prophet under the arms and escorted him to the sheep hide on which he knelt. during this brief moment idris asked stas feverishly whether smain was not among the emirs. "no!" replied the boy, who vainly sought the familiar face with his eyes. "i do not see him anywhere. perhaps he fell at the capture of khartûm." the prayers lasted long. during these the mahdi threw his arms and legs about like a buffoon or raised his eyes in rapture, repeating "lo! it is he!" "lo! it is he!" and the sun began to decline towards the west, when he rose and left for his home. the children now could be convinced with what reverence the dervishes surrounded their prophet, for crowds eagerly followed him and scratched up the places which his feet touched. they even quarreled and came to blows for they believed that such earth protected the healthy and healed the sick. the place of prayer was vacated gradually. idris himself did not know what to do and was about to return with the children and his whole party to the huts and to chamis for the night, when unexpectedly there stood before them that same greek who in the morning had given stas and nell each a dollar and a handful of wild figs. "i spoke with the mahdi about you," he said in arabian, "and the prophet desires to see you." "thanks to allah and to you, sir," exclaimed idris. "shall we find smain at the prophet's side." "smain is in fashoda," answered the greek. after which he addressed stas in the english language. "it may be that the prophet will take you under his protection as i endeavored to persuade him to do. i told him that the fame of his mercy would then spread among all the white nations. here terrible things are taking place and without his protection you will perish from starvation and want of comforts, from sickness or at the hands of madmen. but you must reconcile him and that depends upon you." "what am i to do?" stas asked. "in the first place, when you appear before him throw yourself upon your knees, and if he should tender his hand, kiss it with reverence and beseech him to take you two under his wings." here the greek broke off and asked: "do any of these men understand english?" "no. idris and gebhr understand only a few simple words and the others not even that." "that is well. so listen further, for it is necessary to anticipate everything. now the mahdi will in all probability ask you whether you are ready to accept his faith. answer at once that you are and that at the sight of him, from the first glance of the eye an unknown light of grace flowed upon you. remember, 'an unknown light of grace.' that will flatter him and he will enroll you among his muzalems, that is, among his personal servants. you will then enjoy plenty and all the comforts which will shield you from sickness. if you should act otherwise you would endanger yourself, that poor little creature, and even me, who wishes your good. do you understand?" stas set his teeth and did not reply, but his face was icy and his eyes flashed up sullenly. seeing which the greek continued thus: "i know, my boy, that this is a disagreeable matter, but it cannot be helped. all of those who were saved after the massacre in khartûm accepted the mahdi's doctrines. only a few catholic missionaries and nuns did not assent to it, but that is a different matter. the koran prohibits the slaughter of priests, so though their fate is horrible, they are not at least threatened with death. for the secular people, however, there was no other salvation. i repeat, they all accepted mohammedism; the germans, italians, englishmen, copts, greeks--i myself." and here, though stas had assured him that no one in that crowd understood english, he nevertheless lowered his voice. "besides, i need not tell you that this is no denial of faith, no treason, no apostasy. in his soul every one remained what he was and god saw it. before superior force it is necessary to bend, though seemingly. it is the duty of man to preserve life and it would be madness, and even a sin, to jeopardize it--for what? for appearances, for a few words, which at the same time you may disavow in your soul? and remember that you hold in your hands not only your life but the life of your little companion which it is not permissible for you to dispose of. in truth, i can guarantee to you if ever god saves you from these hands then you will not have anything to reproach yourself with, nor will any one find fault with you, as this is the case with all of us." the greek, speaking in this manner, perhaps deceived his own conscience, but stas' silence deceived him also for in the end he mistook it for fear. he determined therefore to give the boy courage. "these are the houses of the mahdi," he said. "he prefers to live in the wooden sheds of omdurmân rather than in khartûm, though there he could occupy gordon's palace. well then, bravely! don't lose your head! to the question reply firmly. they prize courage here. also do not imagine that the mahdi will at once roar at you like a lion! no! he always smiles, even when contemplating nothing good." and saying this he began to shout at the crowd standing in front of the house to make way for the prophet's "guests." xviii when they entered the room, the mahdi lay on a soft cot, surrounded by his wives, two of whom fanned him with great ostrich feathers and the other two lightly scratched the soles of his feet. besides his wives, there were present only the caliph abdullahi and the sheref caliph, as the third, ali uled helu, was despatching at that time troops to the north, particularly to beber and abu hâmed, which already had been captured by the dervishes. at sight of the arrivals the prophet dismissed his wives and sat up on the cot. idris, gebhr, and the two bedouins fell on their faces and afterwards knelt with hands crossed on their breasts. the greek beckoned to stas to do the same, but the boy, pretending not to see the gesture, only bowed and remained standing erect. his face was pale, but his eyes shone strongly and from his whole posture and head, haughtily upraised, from his tightly compressed lips it could easily be seen that something had taken an ascendancy over him, that uncertainty and fear had passed away, that he had adopted an inflexible resolution from which he would not recede for anything. the greek evidently understood this, as great uneasiness was reflected on his features. the mahdi observed both children with a fleeting glance, brightened his fat face with his customary smile, after which he first addressed idris and gebhr: "you came from the distant north," he said. idris struck the ground with his forehead. "yes, oh mahdi! we belong to the tribe of dongola; therefore we abandoned our homes in fayûm in order to kneel at your blessed feet." "i beheld you in the desert. that was a terrible journey but i sent an angel to guard and shield you from death at the hands of the infidels. you did not see this, but he watched over you." "thanks to thee, redeemer." "and you brought those children to smain to exchange them for his own, that the turks imprisoned together with fatma in port said." "thee we desired to serve." "whoever serves me serves his own salvation; therefore you have opened for yourselves the path to paradise. fatma is my relative. but verily i say unto you that when we subjugate the whole of egypt, then my relative and her posterity will anyway regain liberty." "and therefore do with these children whatever thou desirest--oh blessed one." the mahdi closed his eyelids, after which he opened them, smiling kindly, and nodded at stas. "approach, boy." stas advanced a few paces with an energetic, as if soldierly, stride; he bowed a second time after which he straightened as a chord and, looking straight into the mahdi's eyes, waited. "are you delighted that you came to me?" the mahdi asked. "no, prophet. we were abducted in spite of our wills from our parents." this plain answer created a certain sensation upon the ruler accustomed to flattery, and upon those present. caliph abdullahi frowned, the greek gnawed his mustache, and began to wring his hands. the mahdi, however, did not cease to smile. "but," he said, "you are at the fountain of truth. do you want to drink at that fountain?" a moment of silence followed; so the mahdi, thinking the boy did not understand the question, repeated it more plainly. "do you desire to accept my doctrines?" to this stas imperceptibly made a sign of the holy cross with his hand which he held at his breast, as though he was about to leap from a sinking ship into a watery chaos. "prophet," he said, "your doctrines i do not know; therefore if i accepted them, i would do it out of fear like a coward and a base man. are you anxious that your faith should be professed by cowards and base people?" and speaking thus he looked steadfastly in the eyes of the mahdi. it became so quiet that only the buzz of flies could be heard. but at the same time something extraordinary had happened. the mahdi became confused, and for the nonce did not know what reply to make. the smile vanished from his face, on which was reflected perplexity and displeasure. he stretched out his hand, took hold of the gourd, filled it with water and honey, and began to drink, but obviously only to gain time and to conceal his confusion. and the brave boy, a worthy descendant of the defenders of christianity, of the true blood of the victors at khoczim and vienna, stood with upraised head, awaiting his doom. on his emaciated cheeks, tanned by the desert winds, bloomed bright blushes, his eyes glittered, and his body quivered with the thrill of ardor. "all others," he soliloquized, "accepted his doctrines, but i have denied neither my faith nor my soul." and fear before what might and was to follow at that moment was subdued in his heart, and joy and pride overflowed it. in the meantime the mahdi replaced the gourd and asked: "so, you reject my doctrines?" "i am a christian like my father." "whoever closes his eyes to the voice of god," said the mahdi slowly in a changed voice, "is only fuel for the flames." at this the caliph abdullahi, notorious for his ferocity and cruelty, displayed his white teeth like a savage animal and spoke out: "the speech of this boy is insolent; therefore punish him, lord, or permit me to punish him." "it has happened!" stas thought. but the mahdi always desired that the fame of his mercy should spread not only among the dervishes but over the whole world; therefore he thought that a too severe sentence, particularly upon a small boy, might injure that fame. for a while he fingered the rosary beads and meditated, and afterwards said: "no. these children were abducted for smain; so, though i do not want to enter into any negotiations with the infidels, it is necessary to send them to smain. such is my will." "it shall be obeyed," answered the caliph. but the mahdi pointed to idris, gebhr, and the bedouins and said: "reward these men for me, oh abdullahi, for they made a long and dangerous journey to serve god and me." after which he nodded in sign that the audience was ended and at the same time ordered the greek to leave also. the latter, when they found themselves in the darkness on the place of prayer, seized stas' arm and began to shake it with anger and despair. "accursed! you have sealed the doom of that innocent child," he said, pointing at nell. "you have ruined yourself and perhaps me." "i could not do otherwise," answered stas. "you could not? know that you are condemned to a journey a hundredfold worse than the first. and that is death,--do you understand? in fashoda the fever will kill you in the course of a week. the mahdi knew why he sent you to smain." "in omdurmân we also would perish." "that is not true! you would not have perished in the house of the mahdi, in plenty and comfort. and he was ready to take you under his wings. i know that he was. you also repaid me nicely for interceding for you. but do what you wish, abdullahi will despatch the camel-post to fashoda in about a week and during that time do whatever you please! you will not see me any more!" saying this he went away, but after a while returned. he, like all greeks, was loquacious, and it was necessary for him to tell everything he had to say. he wanted to pour upon stas' head all the bile which had accumulated within him. he was not cruel and did not possess a bad heart; he desired, however, that the boy should understand more thoroughly the awful responsibility which he had assumed in not heeding his advice and warnings. "who would have prevented you from remaining a christian in your soul?" he said. "do you think that i am not one? but i am not a fool. you on the other hand preferred to make a parade of your false heroism. heretofore i have rendered great services to the white prisoners, but now i shall not be able to aid them for the mahdi has become incensed at me. all will perish. and your little companion in misfortune also: you have killed her! in fashoda even adult europeans die of the fever like flies, and what of such a child? and if they order you to go on foot beside the horses and camels, she will fall the first day. you did all this. enjoy yourself now--you christian!" and he left them while they turned from the place of prayer towards the huts. they walked long, as the city was spread over an immense space. nell, worn out by fatigue, hunger, fright, and the horrible impressions of the whole day, began to lag. idris and gebhr urged her to walk faster. but after a time her limbs became entirely numb. then stas, without reflection, took her in his arms and carried her. on the way he wanted to speak to her; he wanted to justify himself, but ideas were torpid, as if they were dead in his mind; so he only repeated in a circle, "nell! nell! nell!" and he clasped her to his bosom, not being able to say anything more. after a few score paces nell fell asleep in his arms from exhaustion; so he walked in silence amid the quiet of the slumbering little streets, interrupted only by the conversation of idris and gebhr, whose hearts overflowed with joy. this was fortunate for stas, as otherwise they would have punished him for his insolent reply to the mahdi. they were, however, so occupied with what they had seen that they could not think of anything else. "i felt sick," said idris, "but the sight of the prophet healed me." "he is like a palm in the desert, and like cool water on a scorching day, and his words are like ripe dates," answered gebhr. "nur el-tadhil lied when he said that he would not permit us to be admitted to his presence. he admitted us, blessed us, and ordered abdullahi to lavish gifts upon us." "who will munificently enrich us, for the wish of the mahdi is sacred." "bismillah! may it be as you say!" spoke out one of the bedouins. and gebhr began to dream of whole herds of camels, horned cattle, and bags full of piastres. from these dreams he was awakened by idris who, pointing at stas carrying the sleeping girl, asked: "what shall we do with that hornet and that fly?" "ha! smain ought to reward us for them, separately." "since the prophet says that he will not permit any negotiations with the infidels, smain will have no interest in them." "in such case i regret that they did not get into the hands of the caliph, who would have taught that whelp what it is to bark against the truth and the elect of the lord." "the mahdi is merciful," answered idris. after which he pondered for a while and said: "nevertheless, smain having both in his hands will be certain that neither the turks nor the english people will kill his children and fatma." "so he may reward us?" "yes. let abdullahi's post take them to fashoda. a weight will fall off our heads, and when smain returns here we will demand recompense from him." "you say then that we will remain in omdurmân?" "allah! have you not had enough in the journey from fayûm to khartûm? the time for rest has come." the huts were now not far off. stas, however, slackened his pace for his strength began to wane. nell, though light, seemed heavier and heavier. the sudânese, who were anxious to go to sleep, shouted at him to hurry and afterwards drove him on, striking him on the head with their fists. gebhr even pricked him painfully in the shoulder with a knife. the boy endured all this in silence, protecting above all his little sister, and not until one of the bedouins shoved him so that he almost fell, did he say to them through his set teeth: "we are to arrive at fashoda alive." and these words restrained the arabs, for they feared to violate the commands of the mahdi. a yet more effective restraint, however, was the fact that idris suddenly became so dizzy that he had to lean on gebhr's arm. after an interval the dizziness passed away, but the sudânese became frightened and said: "allah! something ails me. has not some sickness taken hold of me?" "you have seen the mahdi, so you will not fall sick," answered gebhr. they finally reached the huts. stas, hurrying with the remnants of his strength, delivered sleeping nell to the hands of old dinah, who, though unwell also, nevertheless made a comfortable bed for her little lady. the sudânese and the bedouins, swallowing a few strips of raw meat, flung themselves, like logs, on the saddle-cloth. stas was not given anything to eat, but old dinah shoved into his hand a fistful of soaked durra, a certain amount of which she had stolen from the camels. but he was not in the mood for eating or sleeping, for the load which weighed on his shoulders was in truth too heavy. he felt that in rejecting the favor of the mahdi, for which it was necessary to pay with denial of faith and soul, he had acted as he should have done; he felt that his father would have been proud and happy at his conduct, but at the same time he thought that he had caused the destruction of nell, his companion in misfortune, his little beloved sister, for whom he would willingly have sacrificed his last drop of blood. so when all had fallen asleep he burst into a flood of tears, and, lying on a piece of saddle-cloth, he wept long, like the child which, after all, he still was. xix the visit to the mahdi and the interview with him evidently did not heal idris, as during the night he grew worse and in the morning became unconscious. chamis, gebhr, and the two bedouins were summoned to the caliph who detained them some hours and praised their courage. but they returned in the worst humor and with rage in their souls for they had expected the lord knows what rewards, and in the meantime abdullahi gave each one an egyptian pound* [* about five dollars.--_translator's note_.] and a horse. the bedouins began a quarrel with gebhr which almost resulted in a fight; in the end they announced that they would ride together with the camel-post to fashoda to demand payment from smain. they were joined by chamis who expected that the patronage of smain would be more beneficial to him than a sojourn in omdurmân. for the children a week of hunger and misery began, for gebhr did not think of feeding them. fortunately stas had the two dollars with the effigy of maria theresa, which he got from the greek; so he went to the city to buy dates and rice. the sudânese did not oppose this trip as they knew that he could not escape from omdurmân and that under no circumstances would he desert the little "bint." this experience did not pass without some adventures, however, for the sight of a boy in european dress buying provisions at the market-place, again attracted a crowd of semi-savage dervishes, who received him with laughter and yells. fortunately many knew that he had been at the mahdi's the previous day, and they restrained those who wanted to assault him. only children threw sand and stones at him, but he paid no attention to them. at the market-place the prices were too high. stas could not obtain any dates at all and a considerable part of the rice was taken away from him by gebhr for "his sick brother." the boy resisted with all his strength, in consequence of which a scuffle and fight ensued, in which the really weaker one came out with numerous contusions and bruises. in addition the cruelty of chamis became manifest. the latter evinced an attachment for saba and fed him with raw meat; on the other hand, at the distress of the children, whom he knew of old and who had always been kind to him, he looked with the utmost indifference, and when stas addressed him with a request that he should at least give nell a morsel of food, he replied, laughing: "go and beg." and it finally came to the pass that stas during the following days, desiring to save nell from death by starvation, begged. nor was he always unsuccessful. at times some former soldier or officer of the egyptian khedive gave him a few piastres or a few dried figs, and promised to aid him on the following day. once he happened to meet a missionary and a sister of charity, who, hearing his story, bemoaned the fate of both children, and though they themselves were wasted with hunger, shared with him everything which they had. they also promised to visit them in the huts and did actually come the next day in the hope that they might succeed in taking the children with them until the time of the departure of the post. but gebhr with chamis drove them away with courbashes. on the following day stas met them again and received from them a little measure of rice together with two quinine powders, which the missionary instructed him to save most carefully in the expectation that in fashoda fever inevitably awaited both. "you will ride now," he said, "alongside of the dense floating masses in the white nile or the so-called 'sudds'. the river, not being able to flow freely across the barriers composed of vegetation and weeds which the current of the water carries and deposits in the more shallow places, forms there extensive and infectious swamps, amid which the fever does not spare even the negroes. beware particularly of sleeping on the bare ground without a fire." "we already wish to die," answered stas, almost with a moan. at this the missionary raised his haggard face and for a while prayed; after which he made the sign of the cross over the boy and said: "trust in god. you did not deny him; so his mercy and care will be over you." stas tried not only to beg, but to work. a certain day, seeing a crowd of men laboring at the place of prayer, he joined them, and began to carry clay for the palisade with which the place was to be surrounded. they jeered at and jostled him, but at evening the old sheik, who superintended the work, gave him twelve dates. stas was immensely overjoyed at this compensation, for dates with rice formed the only wholesome nourishment for nell and became more and more difficult to obtain in omdurmân. so he brought them with pride to his little sister, to whom he gave everything which he could secure; he sustained himself for a week almost exclusively upon durra taken from the camels. nell was greatly delighted at the sight of her favorite fruit but wanted him to share it with her. so, tiptoeing, she placed her hands on his shoulders, and turning up her head, began to gaze into his eyes and plead: "stas! eat a half, eat--" to this he replied: "i have already eaten. i have eaten. i have eaten my fill." and he smiled, but immediately began to bite his lips in order not to weep, as he really was hungry. he promised himself that the following day he would go again and earn some more; but it happened otherwise. in the morning a muzalem from abdullahi came with the announcement that the camel-post was to leave at night for fashoda, and with the caliph's command that idris, gebhr, chamis, and the two bedouins should prepare to go with the children. this command amazed and aroused the indignation of gebhr; so he declared that he would not go as his brother was sick and there was no one to attend to him, and even if he were well, both had decided to remain in omdurmân. but the muzalem replied: "the mahdi has only one will, and abdullahi, his caliph and my master, never alters commands. your brother can be attended by a slave, while you will depart for fashoda." "then i shall go and inform him that i will not depart." "to the caliph are admitted only those whom he himself desires to see. and if you without permission, and through violence, should force yourself into his presence, i will lead you to the gallows." "allah akbar! then tell me plainly that i am a slave!" "be silent and obey orders!" answered the muzalem. the sudânese had seen in omdurmân gallows breaking under the weight of hanging men. by order of the ferocious abdullahi these gallows were daily decorated with new bodies. gebhr became terror-stricken. that which the muzalem told him, that the mahdi commanded but once, was reiterated by all the dervishes. there was therefore no help; it was necessary to ride. "i shall see idris no more!" thought gebhr. in his tigerish heart was concealed a sort of attachment for his older brother, so that at the thought that he would have to leave him in sickness he was seized by despair. in vain did chamis and the bedouins represent to him that they might fare better in fashoda than in omdurmân, and that smain in all probability would reward them more bountifully than the caliph had done. no words could assuage gebhr's grief and rage, and the rage rebounded mainly upon stas. it was indeed a day of martyrdom for the boy. he was not permitted to go to the market-place, so he could not earn anything or beg, and was compelled to work as a slave at the pack-saddles, which were being prepared for the journey. this became a more difficult matter as from hunger and torture he weakened very much. he was certain that he would die on the road; if not under gebhr's courbash, then from exhaustion. fortunately the greek, who had a good heart, came in at the evening to visit the children and to bid them farewell, and at the same time to provide for them on the way. he brought a few quinine powders, and besides these a few glass beads and a little food. finally, learning of idris' sickness, he turned to gebhr, chamis, and the bedouins. "know this," he said. "i come here by the mahdi's command." and when they heard this they smote with their foreheads and he continued: "you are to feed the children on the way and treat them well. they are to render a report of your behavior to smain. smain shall write of this to the prophet. if any complaint against you comes here, the next post will carry a death sentence for you." a new bow was the only reply to these words; in addition gebhr and chamis had the miens of dogs on which muzzles are placed. the greek then ordered them away, after which he thus spoke to the children in english: "i fabricated all this, for the mahdi did not issue any new orders. but as he said that you were to go to fashoda, it is necessary that you should reach there alive. i also reckoned upon this, that none of them will see either the mahdi or the caliph before their departure." after which to stas: "i took umbrage at you, boy, and feel it yet. do you know that you almost ruined me? the mahdi was offended at me, and to secure his forgiveness i was forced to surrender to abdullahi a considerable portion of my estate, and besides, i do not know for how long a time i have saved myself. in any case i shall not be able to assist the captives as i have heretofore done. but i felt sorry for you, particularly for her (and here he pointed at nell). i have a daughter of the same age, whom i love more than my own life, and for her sake i have done everything which i have done. christ will judge me for this--up to this time she wears under her dress, on her breast, a silver cross.--her name is the same as yours, little one. were it not for her, i would have preferred to die rather than to live in this hell." he was deeply moved. for a while he was silent, after which he rubbed his forehead with his hand and began to speak of something else. "the mahdi sends you to fashoda with the idea that there you will die. in this manner he will revenge himself upon you for your stubbornness, boy, which touched him deeply, and he will not lose his fame for 'mercy.' he always acts thus. but who knows who is destined to die first? abdullahi suggested to him the idea that he should order the dogs who kidnapped you, to go with you. he rewarded them miserably, and now he fears that they may publish it. besides, they both preferred that the people should not be told that there are still in egypt troops, cannons, money, and englishmen.--it will be a hard road and distant. you will go into a country desolate and unhealthy. so guard, as the eye in the head, those powders which i gave to you." "sir, order gebhr once more not to dare to starve or hit nell," said stas. "do not fear. i commended you to the old sheik who has charge of the post. he is an old acquaintance of mine. i gave him a watch and with that i gained his protection for you." saying this, he began to bid them farewell. taking nell in his arms, he pressed her to his bosom and repeated: "may god bless you, my child." in the meantime the sun descended and the night became starry. in the dusk resounded the snorting of horses and the groans of the heavily loaded camels. xx the old sheik hatim faithfully kept his promise given to the greek and watched over the children with great solicitude. the journey up the white nile was difficult. they rode through keteineh, ed-dueim, and kawa; afterwards they passed abba, a woody nile island, on which before the war the mahdi dwelt, in a hollow tree as a dervish hermit. the caravan often was compelled to make a detour around extensive floating masses overgrown with pyrus, or so-called "sudds," from which the breeze brought the poisoned odor of decomposed leaves carried by the current of water. english engineers had previously cut through these barriers, and formerly steamboats could ascend from khartûm to fashoda and farther. at present the river was blocked again and, being unable to run freely, overflowed on both sides. the right and left banks of this region were covered by a high jungle amid which stood hillocks of termites and solitary gigantic trees; here and there the forest reached the river. in dry places grew groves of acacias. during the first week they saw arabian settlements and towns composed of houses with strange conical roofs made of dochnu straw, but beyond abba, from the settlement of gôz abu guma they rode in the country of the blacks. it was nearly desolate, for the dervishes had almost totally carried away the local negro population and sold it in the markets of khartûm, omdurmân, fasher, dar, el-obeid, and other cities in the sudân, darfur, and kordofân. those inhabitants who succeeded in escaping slavery in thickets in the forests were exterminated by starvation and small-pox, which raged with unusual virulence along the white and blue niles. the dervishes themselves said that whole nations had died of it. the former plantations of sorghum, manioc, and bananas were covered by a jungle. only wild beasts, not pursued by any one, multiplied plentifully. sometimes before the evening twilight the children saw from a distance great herds of elephants, resembling movable rocks, walking with slow tread to watering places known only to themselves. at the sight of them hatim, a former ivory dealer, smacked his lips, sighed, and spoke thus to stas in confidence: "mashallah! how much wealth there is here! but now it is not worth while to hunt, for the mahdi has prohibited egyptian traders from coming to khartûm, and there is no one to sell the tusks to, unless to the emirs for umbajas." they met also giraffes, which, seeing the caravan, escaped hurriedly with heavy ambling pace, swinging their long necks as if they were lame. beyond gôz abu guma appeared, more and more frequently, buffaloes and whole herds of antelopes. the people of the caravan when they lacked fresh meat hunted for them, but almost always in vain, for the watchful and fleet animals would not allow themselves to be approached or surrounded. provisions were generally scarce, as owing to the depopulation of the region they could not obtain either millet or bananas, or fish, which in former times were furnished by the shilluk and dinka tribes who exchanged them willingly for glass beads and brass wire. hatim, however, did not permit the children to die of starvation, and what is more he kept a strict control over gebhr; and once, when the latter at about bed-time struck stas while removing saddles from the camels, he ordered the sudânese to be stretched upon the ground and whipped thirty times on each heel with a bamboo. for two days the cruel sudânese could walk only on his toes and cursed the hour when he left fayûm, and revenged himself upon a young slave named kali, who had been presented to him. stas at the beginning was almost pleased that he had left infected omdurmân and that he saw a country of which he always had dreamed. his strong constitution thus far endured perfectly the toils of the journey and the abundant food restored his energy. several times during the journey and at the stops he whispered to his little sister that it was possible to escape even from beyond the white nile, and that he did not at all abandon that design. but her health disquieted him. three weeks after the day of their departure from omdurmân nell had not indeed succumbed to the fever, but her face grew thinner and instead of being tanned it became more and more transparent, and her little hands looked as if they were moulded of wax. she did not lack care and even such comforts as stas and dinah with the aid of hatim could provide, but she lacked the salubrious desert air. the moist and torrid climate united with the hardships of the journey more and more undermined the strength of the child. stas, beginning at gôz abu guma, gave her daily a half powder of quinine and worried terribly at the thought that this remedy, which could be obtained nowhere later, would not last him long. but it could not be helped, for it was necessary above all things to prevent the fever. at moments despair possessed him. he deluded himself, however, with the hope that smain, if he desired to exchange them for his own children, would have to seek for them a more salubrious place than the neighborhood of fashoda. but misfortune seemed continually to pursue its victims. on the day before the arrival at fashoda, dinah, who while in omdurmân felt weak, fainted suddenly at the untying of the small luggage with nell's things taken from fayûm, and fell from the camel. stas and chamis revived her with the greatest difficulty. she did not, however, regain consciousness, or rather she regained it at the evening only to bid a tearful farewell to her beloved little lady, and to die. after her death gebhr insisted upon cutting off her ears in order to show them to smain as proof that she died during the journey, and to demand of him a separate payment for her abduction. this was done with a slave who expired during the journey. but hatim, at the entreaties of stas and nell, would not consent to this; so they buried her decently and her mound was safeguarded against hyenas with the assistance of stones and thorns. the children felt yet more lonely for they realized that in her they had lost the only near and devoted soul. this was a terrible blow, particularly for nell, so stas endeavored to comfort her throughout the whole night and the following day. the sixth week of the journey arrived. on the next day at noon the caravan reached fashoda, but they found only a pyre. the mahdists bivouacked under the bare heaven or in huts hurriedly built of grass and boughs. three days previously the settlement had been burnt down. there remained only the clay walls of the round hovels, blackened with smoke, and, standing close by the water, a great wooden shed, which during the egyptian times served as a storage-place for ivory; in it at present lived the commander of the dervishes, emir seki tamala. he was a distinguished personage among the mahdists, a secret enemy of abdullahi, but on the other hand a personal friend of hatim. he received the old sheik and the children hospitably, but immediately at the introduction told them unfavorable news. smain was not in fashoda. two days before he had gone southeast from the nile on an expedition for slaves, and it was not known when he would return, as the nearer localities were so depopulated that it was necessary to seek for human chattels very far. near fashoda, indeed, lay abyssinia, with which the dervishes likewise waged war. but smain having only three hundred men did not dare to cross its borders, guarded vigilantly, at present, by king john's warlike inhabitants and soldiers. in view of this seki tamala and hatim began to deliberate as to what was to be done with the children. the consultation was held mainly at supper, to which the emir invited stas and nell. "i," he said to hatim, "must soon start with all the men upon a distant expedition against emin pasha,* [* emin pasha, by birth a german jew, was after the occupation by egypt of the region around albert nyanza, governor of the equatorial provinces. his headquarters were at wadelai. the mahdists attacked it a number of times. he was rescued by stanley, who conducted him with a greater part of his troops to bagamoyo, on the indian ocean.] who is located at lado, having steamers and troops there. such is the command which you, hatim, brought me. therefore you must return to omdurmân, for in fashoda there will not remain a single living soul. here there is no place in which to live, there is nothing to eat, and sickness is raging. i know, indeed, that the white people do not catch small-pox, but fever will kill those children within a month." "i was ordered to bring them to fashoda," replied hatim, "so i brought them, and need not trouble myself about them any more. but they were recommended to me by my friend, the greek kaliopuli; for that reason i would not want them to perish." "and this will surely happen." "then what is to be done?" "instead of leaving them in desolate fashoda, send them to smain together with those men who brought them to omdurmân. smain went to the mountains, to a dry and high region where the fever does not kill the people as on the river." "how will they find smain?" "by the trail of fire. he will set fire to the jungle, first, in order to drive the game to the rocky ravines in which it will be easy to surround and slaughter it, and then in order to scare out of the thickets the heathens, who hid in them before pursuit. smain will not be hard to find--" "will they, however, overtake him?" "he will at times pass a week in one locality to cure meat. even though he rode away two or three days ago they surely will overtake him." "but why should they chase after him? he will return to fashoda anyway." "no. if the slave-hunt is successful, he will take the slaves to the cities to sell them--" "what is to be done?" "remember that both of us must leave fashoda. the children, even though the fever does not kill them, will die of starvation." "by the prophet! that is true." and there really remained nothing else to do but to despatch the children upon a new wandering life. hatim, who appeared to be a very good man, was only troubled about this: whether gebhr, with whose cruel disposition he had become acquainted during the journey, would not treat them too harshly. but the stern seki tamala, who aroused fear even in his own soldiers, commanded the sudânese to be summoned, and announced to him that he was to convey the children alive and in good health to smain, and at the same time to treat them kindly, as otherwise he would be hung. the good hatim entreated the emir to present to little nell a female slave, who would serve her and take care of her during the journey and in smain's camp. nell was delighted greatly with this gift as it appeared that the slave was a young dinka girl with pleasant features and a sweet facial expression. stas knew that fashoda was death, so he did not at all beg hatim that he should not send them upon a new journey, the third in rotation. in his soul, he thought also that riding in an easterly and southerly direction, he must approach the abyssinian boundaries and that he might escape. he had a hope that upon the dry tableland nell would be safeguarded against the fever, and for these reasons he willingly and zealously entered into the preparation for the journey. gebhr, chamis, and the two bedouins also were not opposed to the expedition, reckoning that at smain's side they would succeed in capturing a considerable number of slaves, and afterwards sell them profitably in the markets. they knew that slave-dealers in time amass great fortunes; in any case they preferred to ride rather than to remain at that place under the immediate control of hatim and seki tamala. the preparations, however, consumed considerable time, particularly as the children had to recuperate. the camels were unavailable now for this journey, so the arabs, and stas and nell were to ride on horseback. kali, gebhr's slave, and nell's maid, called mea upon stas' suggestion, were to go on foot beside the horses. hatim also procured a donkey to carry a tent intended for the little girl and provisions for three days for the children. more seki tamala could not give them. for nell, something in the nature of a ladies' saddle, made of saddle-cloth, palm, and bamboo mats was constructed. the children passed three days in fashoda to rest, but the countless number of mosquitoes above the river made their stay unendurable. during the daytime appeared swarms of big blue flies, which did not indeed bite, but were so vexing that they crept into the ears, filled the eyes, and fell even into the mouths. stas had heard while in port said that the mosquitoes and flies spread fever and an infection of the inflammation of the eyes. finally he himself entreated seki tamala to hurry the expedition, particularly as the rainy spring season was approaching. xxi "stas, why are we riding and speeding and have not yet reached smain?" "i do not know. he undoubtedly is moving rapidly ahead, in order to reach as quickly as possible the region in which he can catch negroes. are you anxious that we should join his detachment?" the little girl nodded her pale-yellow little head in sign that she was very much concerned about it. "why should you be so anxious?" asked stas. "because perhaps gebhr will not dare in smain's company to beat that poor kali so cruelly." "smain probably is no better. they all have no mercy for their slaves." "is that so?" and two little tears coursed over her emaciated cheeks. it was the ninth day of the journey. gebhr, who was now the leader of the caravan, in the beginning easily discovered traces of smain's march. his way was indicated by a trail of burnt jungle and camping grounds strewn with picked bones and various remnants. but after the lapse of five days they came upon a vast expanse of burnt steppe, on which the wind had carried the fire in all directions. the trails became deceptive and confusing, as, apparently, smain had divided his detachment into ten or more small divisions, in order to facilitate the surrounding of the game and the capture of provisions. gebhr did not know in which direction to go, and often it happened that the caravan, after moving long in a circle, returned to the same place from which it started. afterwards they chanced upon forests, and after passing through them they entered upon a rocky country where the ground was covered by smooth rocks or small stones, scattered over the immense expanse so thickly that the children were reminded of city pavements. the vegetation there was scant. only here and there, in the crannies of rocks, grew euphorbias, mimosas, and thorny and scrubby plants and, more infrequently yet, a slender, light green tree, which kali in the kiswahili language called "m'ti" and with the leaves of which the horses were fed. in this locality little rivers and streams were lacking, but fortunately from time to time the rain began to fall, so they found water in the hollows and excavations of the rocks. the game was driven away by smain's detachment and the caravan would have died of starvation, were it not for a multitude of guinea-fowls which every little while started from under the horses' legs, and at evening encumbered the trees so thickly that it was sufficient to shoot in their direction to cause a few to fall to the ground. in addition they were not timid and permitted a close approach, and they rose so heavily and indolently that saba, rushing ahead of the caravan, seized and choked some of them almost every day. chamis killed about a score of them daily with an old shotgun which he had bartered from one of the dervishes serving under hatim during the trip from omdurmân to fashoda. he did not, however, have shot for more than twenty charges and he became uneasy at the thought of what would happen when the supply was exhausted. indeed, notwithstanding the scaring away of the game, there appeared at times amidst the rocks herds of ariels, beautiful antelopes common in all central africa, but it was necessary to shoot at the ariels with the short rifle, while they did not know how to use stas' gun and gebhr did not want to place it in his hands. the sudânese likewise began to grow uneasy at the long journey. at times it occurred to him to return to fashoda, because in case he and smain should miss each other they might stray in wild regions in which, not to speak of starvation, they were in danger of attacks of wild animals, and savage negroes panting for revenge for the hunt which had been despatched against them. but as he did not know that seki tamala was preparing an expedition against emin, for the conversation about this was not held in his presence, he was seized with terror at the thought of appearing before the face of the puissant emir, who had commanded him to convey the children to smain and had given him a letter addressed to him and in addition had announced that if he did not acquit himself properly of his duty, he would be hung. all of this taken together filled his soul with bitterness and rage. he did not dare, however, to revenge himself for his disappointments upon stas and nell; instead the back of poor kali was covered with blood under the courbash. the young slave approached his cruel master always trembling and in fear. in vain he embraced his feet and kissed his hands; in vain he fell upon his face before him. the stony heart was not moved either by humility or by groans, and the courbash gashed the body of the unhappy boy upon the most trivial cause and often for none whatever. at night his feet were placed in a wooden board with an opening to prevent him from running away. during the day he walked tied with a rope fastened to a horse; this amused chamis very much. nell shed tears over kali's plight. stas' heart raged and a number of times he passionately interceded for him, but when he perceived that this inflamed gebhr still more, he set his teeth and remained silent. but kali understood that those two interceded for him, and he began to love them deeply with his afflicted heart. for two days they rode in a stony ravine lined with high steep rocks. from the stones heaped and scattered in disorder it was easy to perceive that during the rainy season the ravine was filled with water, but at present its bed was entirely dry. on the walls, on both sides, grew small patches of grass, a great many thorns, and here and there even a tree. gebhr directed his way by this stony gullet because it went continually upwards; so he thought that it would lead him to some eminence from which he could descry smoke during the daytime and smain's camp-fires at night. in some places the ravine became so narrow that only two horses could go side by side; in other places it widened into small, round valleys, surrounded as if by high stone walls, on which sat big baboons, playing with each other, barking, and displaying their teeth at the caravan. it was five o'clock in the afternoon. the sun already lowered towards the west. gebhr thought of a resting place; he wanted only to reach some small valley in which he could construct a zareba, that is, enclose the caravan and horses with a fence of thorny mimosa and acacias, for protection against attacks of wild animals. saba rushed ahead, barking at the baboons which at sight of him shook uneasily, and all of a sudden disappeared in the bend of the ravine. echo repeated loudly his barking. suddenly, however, he became silent and after a while he came rushing to the horses with hair bristling on his back and tail curled under him. the bedouins and gebhr understood that something must have frightened him, but staring at each other and desiring to ascertain what it could be, they proceeded farther. but riding around a small bend, the horses shied and stood still in one moment as if thunderstruck by the sight which met their eyes. on a fair-sized rock situated in the middle of the ravine, which was quite wide at that place, lay a lion. at most, a hundred paces separated him from them. the powerful beast, seeing the riders and horses, rose on his fore paws and began to gaze at them. the sun, which now stood low, illumined his huge head and shaggy breasts, and in that ruddy luster he was like one of those sphinxes which ornament the entrances to ancient egyptian temples. the horses began to sit upon their haunches, to wince and draw back. the amazed and frightened riders did not know what to do; so from mouth to mouth there flowed only the fearsome and helpless words, "allah! bismillah! allah akbar!" and the king of the wilderness gazed at them from above, motionless as if cast of bronze. gebhr and chamis had heard from traders, who came to egypt from the sudân with ivory and gum, that lions sometimes lie down in the paths of caravans, which, on account of this, must turn aside. but here there was no place which they could turn to. it behoved them perhaps to turn about and fly. yes! but in such case it was a certainty that the dreadful beast would rush after them in pursuit. again resounded the feverish interrogations: "what is to be done?" "allah! perhaps he will step aside." "no, he will not." and again a silence fell. only the snorting of the horses and the quickened breathing of the human breasts could be heard. "untie kali!" chamis suddenly exclaimed to gebhr, "and we will escape on the horses; the lion will first overtake him, and kill him only." "do that," repeated the bedouins. but gebhr surmised that in such a case kali, in the twinkling of an eye, would climb on the rocky wall and the lion would chase after the horses; therefore another horrible idea suggested itself to him. he would kill the boy with his knife and fling his body ahead of him and then the lion, dashing after them, would see on the ground the bleeding corpse and stop to devour it. so he dragged kali by the rope to the saddle and had already raised his knife, when in the same second stas clutched the wide sleeve of his jubha. "villain! what are you doing?" gebhr began to tug and, if the boy had seized him by the hand, he would have freed it at once, but it was not so easy with the sleeve; so he began to tug, and splutter with a voice stifled with fury. "dog! if he is not enough, i shall stab you both! allah! i shall stab you! i shall stab you!" and stas paled mortally, for like lightning the thought flashed through his mind that the lion chasing after the horses above all might actually overlook kali, and in such case gebhr with the greatest certainty would stab them both in turn. so pulling the sleeve with redoubled strength he shouted: "give me the short rifle! i will kill the lion!" these words astonished the bedouins, but chamis, who had witnessed stas' shooting in port said, began at once to cry: "give him the rifle! he will kill the lion." gebhr recollected at once the shots on lake karûn and in view of the horrible danger, assented. with great haste he gave the boy the short rifle and chamis, as quick as a thought, opened the cartridge box, from which stas took a large fistful of cartridges, after which he leaped off his horse, inserted the cartridges in the barrels, and moved forward. for the first few steps he was as though stupefied and saw only himself and nell with throats cut by gebhr's knife. but soon the nearer and more horrible danger commanded him to forget about everything else. he had a lion before him! at the sight of the animal his eyes grew dim. he felt a chill on his cheeks and nose, he felt that he had feet as if made of lead and he could scarcely breathe. plainly he feared. in port said he had read during the recitation time of lion-hunts, but it was one thing to examine pictures in books and another to stand eye to eye with the monster, who now gazed at him as if with amazement, wrinkling his broad forehead which resembled a shield. the arabs held the breath in their breasts, for never in their lives had they seen anything like this. on the one side was a small boy, who amid the steep rocks appeared yet smaller, on the other a powerful beast, golden in the sun's rays, magnificent, formidable--"the lord with the great head," as the sudânese say. stas overcame with the whole force of his will the inertness of his limbs and advanced farther. for a while yet it seemed to him that his heart had leaped up into his throat, and this feeling continued until he raised the rifle to his face. then it was necessary to think of something else. whether to approach nearer or to fire at once; where to aim. the smaller the distance the surer the shot--therefore nearer and nearer!--forty paces, too many yet;--thirty!--twenty! already the breeze carried the pungent animal odor. the boy stood. "a bullet between the eyes, or it will be all over with me," he thought. "in the name of the father and of the son--!" and the lion rose, stretched his body, and lowered his head. his lips began to open, his brows to contract over his eyes. this mite of being had dared to approach too closely--so he prepared for a leap, sitting with haunches quivering on his hind legs. but stas, during the twinkling of an eye, perceived that the bead of the rifle was in a direct line with the forehead of the animal--and pulled the trigger. the shot pealed. the lion reared so that for a while he straightened out to his full height; after which he toppled over on his back with his four paws up. and in the final convulsions he rolled off the rock onto the ground. stas for several minutes covered him with his rifle, but seeing that the quivering ceased and that the tawny body was stretched out inertly, he opened the rifle and inserted another cartridge. the stony walls reverberated yet with the thunderous echo. gebhr, chamis, and the bedouins could not at once descry what had happened, as on the previous night rain had fallen, and owing to the dampness of the weather the smoke veiled everything in the narrow ravine. only when the smoke abated, did they shout with joy, and wanted to rush towards the boy, but in vain, as no power could force the horses to move ahead. and stas turned around, took in the four arabs with his gaze and fixed his eyes on gebhr. "ah! there has been enough of this!" he said through his set teeth. "you have exceeded the measure. you shall not torment nell or any one else any more." and suddenly he felt that his nose and cheeks turned pale, but this was a different chill, caused not by fright, but by a terrible and inflexible resolution from which the heart in the bosom becomes, for the time being, iron. "yes! it is imperative! these are mere villains, executioners, murderers, and nell is in their hands!" "you shall not murder her!" he repeated. he approached them--again stood, and suddenly with the rapidity of lightning raised the rifle to his face. two shots, one after the other, jarred the ravine with an echo. gebhr tumbled upon the ground, and chamis swayed in the saddle and struck his horse's neck with his bleeding forehead. the two bedouins uttered a horrified cry of consternation and, springing from the horses, dashed at stas. a bend was not far behind them, and if they had run in the other direction, which stas in his soul desired, they could have saved their lives. but blinded by terror and fury they thought that they would reach the boy before he would be able to change the cartridges, and cut him to pieces with their knives. fools! they ran barely a dozen paces when again the ill-omened rifle cracked; the ravine resounded with the echo of new shots and both fell with faces on the ground, flouncing about like fishes taken out of water. one of them, who in the haste was hurt the least, raised himself and propped himself on his hands, but at that moment saba sunk his fangs in his throat. and mortal silence ensued. it was broken only by the moans of kali, who threw himself on his knees and, stretching out his hands, exclaimed in the broken kiswahili tongue: "bwana kubwa! (great master!) kill the lion! kill bad people, but do not kill kali!" stas, however, paid no heed to his cries. for some time he stood as if dazed; after which, observing nell's pallid face and half-conscious eyes, opened widely from terror, he ran towards her. "nell, do not fear!--nell, we are free!" in fact they actually were free, but astray in a wild, uninhabited region, in the heart of the land of the blacks. part second i before stas and the young negro dragged the slain arabs and the lion's heavy body to the side of the ravine the sun had descended still more and night was soon to fall. but it was impossible to sleep in the vicinity of the corpses; so, though kali stroked his stomach and repeated, smacking with his tongue, "msuri niama" (good meat), stas did not permit him to busy himself with the "niama," and instead ordered him to catch the horses, which ran away after the shooting. the black boy did this with extraordinary skill. instead of running after them in the ravine, in which case they would have sped away farther and farther, he climbed to the top and, shortening his way by avoiding the bends, he intercepted the startled steeds from the front. in this manner he easily caught two; and two more he drove towards stas. only gebhr's and chamis' horses could not be found, but at any rate four remained, not counting the lap-eared creature, loaded with the tent and things, who, in view of the tragic occurrences, displayed a true philosophical calm. they found him beyond a bend, cropping closely and without any haste the grass growing on the bottom of the ravine. the medium-sized sudânese horses are accustomed generally to the sight of wild animals, but they fear lions, so it was with considerable difficulty that they were led past the rock which was blackened with a puddle of blood. the horses snorted, dilating their nostrils and stretching their necks towards the blood-stained stones; nevertheless, when the donkey, only pricking his ears a little, passed by calmly, they also passed on. night had already fallen; they nevertheless rode over half a mile, and halted only in a place where the ravine widened again into a small amphitheatrical vale, overgrown with dense thorns and prickly mimosa trees. "master," said the young negro, "kali will make a fire--a big fire." and taking the broad sudânese sword, which he had removed from gebhr's corpse, he began to cut with it thorns and even little trees. after building the fire, he continued to cut until he secured a supply which would suffice for the whole night, after which with stas he pitched the tent for nell, under a steep perpendicular wall of the ravine, and later they surrounded it with a semi-circular, broad and prickly fence, or a so-called zareba. stas knew from descriptions of african travels that travelers in this manner safeguarded themselves against the attacks of wild animals. the horses could not be placed within the fence; so the boy, unsaddling them and removing the tin utensils and bags, only hobbled them so that they should not stray too far in seeking grass or water. mea finally found water near-by in a stony cavity, forming as it were a little basin under the opposite rocks. there was so copious a supply that it sufficed for the horses and the cooking of the guinea-fowls which were shot that morning by chamis. in the pack-saddles, which the donkey bore, they also found about three pots of durra, a few fistfuls of salt, and a bunch of dried manioc roots. this sufficed for a bounteous supper. kali and mea mainly took advantage of it. the young negro whom gebhr had starved in a cruel manner ate such an amount of food as would have sated two men. but for this he was grateful with his whole heart to his new master and mistress, and immediately after supper he fell on his face before stas and nell in token that he desired to remain their slave to the end of his life, and afterwards he also prostrated himself with due humility before stas' short rifle, understanding that it was the best policy to conciliate so formidable a weapon. after this he announced that during the slumber of the "great master" and the "bibi" he, alternately with mea, would watch that the fire should not go out, and squatted near it, mumbling quietly something in the nature of a song, in which every little while was repeated the refrain, "simba kufa, simba kufa," which in the kiswahili language means, "the lion is killed." but the "great master" and the little "bibi" were not inclined to sleep. nell, at stas' urgent request, barely swallowed a few pieces of guinea-fowl and a few grains of boiled durra. she said that she did not care to eat or sleep but only to drink. a fear seized stas that she might be suffering from fever, but he soon became satisfied that her hands were cool and even too cold. he persuaded her to enter the tent where he prepared bedding for her, first searching carefully in the grass for scorpions. he himself sat upon a stone with short rifle in hand to defend her from attacks by wild beasts, if the fire did not afford sufficient protection. he was beset by great fatigue and exhaustion. in his soul he repeated to himself, "i killed gebhr and chamis; i killed the bedouins; i killed the lion, and we are free." but it was as if those words were whispered to him by some one else and as if he himself did not comprehend their full meaning. he had not a feeling that they were free, but that something awful at the same time had happened which filled him with uneasiness and weighed upon his bosom like a heavy stone. finally his thoughts began to grow blunt. for a long time he gazed at the big moths hovering above the flame and in the end he nodded and dozed. kali also dozed, but awoke every little while and threw twigs into the fire. the night became dark and, what is a rare occurrence under the tropics, very still. they could hear only the cracking of the burning thorns and the hissing of flames which illumined the overhanging rocks forming a semi-circle. the moon did not shine into the depths of the ravine, but above twinkled a swarm of unknown stars. the air became so cool that stas shook off his drowsiness and began to worry whether the chill would not incommode little nell. but he became reassured, when he recollected that he left her under the tent upon the plaid cloth, which dinah took with her from fayûm. it also occurred to him that riding continuously from the nile upwards, though imperceptibly, they must have ridden, through so many days, quite high; therefore to a region which was not threatened with fever as are the low river banks. the penetrating night chill appeared to confirm this supposition. and this thought encouraged him. he went for a moment to nell's tent to listen whether she slept peacefully; after which he returned, sat nearer the fire, and again began to doze and even fell into a sound slumber. suddenly he was awakened by the growling of saba, who previously had lain down to sleep close by his feet. kali awoke also and both began to look about uneasily at the mastiff, who, stretching out like a chord, pricked his ears, and with quivering nostrils scented in the direction from which they had come, gazed fixedly at the same time into the darkness. the hair bristled on his neck and back and his breasts heaved from air which during the growling he inhaled into his lungs. the young slave flung dry twigs into the fire as speedily as possible. "master," he whispered. "take the rifle! take the rifle!" stas took the rifle and moved before the fire to see better in the dusky depth of the ravine. saba's growls changed into barks. for a long time nothing could be heard, after which, however, from the distance there reached the ears of kali and stas a hollow, clattering sound as if some great animals were rushing in the direction of the fire. this sound reverberated in the stillness with an echo against the stony walls, and became louder and louder. stas realized that a dire danger was drawing near. but what could it be? buffaloes, perhaps? perhaps a pair of rhinoceroses seeking an exit from the ravine? in such case if the report of the shot did not scare them and turn them back, nothing could save the caravan, for those animals, not less ferocious and aggressive than rapacious beasts, do not fear fire and tread under foot everything in their way. if, however, it should be a division of smain's forces who, having encountered the corpses in the ravine, are pursuing the murderers? stas did not know which would be better--a sudden death or new captivity? in addition it flitted through his mind that if smain himself was in the division, he might spare them, but if he was not, then the dervishes would at once kill them or, what is worse, torture them in a horrible manner before their death. "ah," he thought, "god grant that these are animals, not men!" in the meantime the clatter increased and changed into a thunder of hoof-beats until finally there emerged out of the darkness glittering eyes, dilated nostrils, and wind-tossed manes. "horses!" cried kali. in fact they were gebhr's and chamis' horses. they came running, driven evidently by fright, but dashing into the circle of light and seeing their fettered companions, they reared on their hind legs; after which, snorting, they implanted their hoofs in the ground and remained for a while motionless. but stas did not lower his rifle. he was certain that at any moment after the horses a shaggy-haired lion or a flat-skulled panther would appear. but he waited in vain. the horses quieted slowly, and what was more, saba after a certain time ceased to scent. instead, he turned about a few times on the spot as dogs usually do, lay down, rolled himself into a ball and closed his eyes. apparently, if any rapacious animal had chased the horses, then, having smelt the smoke or seen the reflection of the fire on the rocks, it had retreated into the distance. "something must have frightened them badly," stas said to kali, "since they did not fear to rush by the body of the lion and the men's corpses." "master," answered the boy, "kali can guess what happened. many, many hyenas and jackals entered the ravine to get at the corpses. the horses ran before them, but the hyenas are not chasing them, for they are eating gebhr and those others--" "that may be, but do you now unsaddle the horses; remove the utensils and bags and bring them here. do not fear, for the rifle will protect you." "kali does not fear," answered the boy. and pushing aside the thorns close by the rocks, he slipped out of the zareba. in the meantime nell came out of the tent. saba rose at once and, pressing his nose close to her, claimed his usual caress. but she, extending at first her hand, withdrew it at once as if with aversion. "stas, what has happened?" she asked. "nothing. those two horses came running up. did their hoof-beats awaken you?" "i was awake before then and even wanted to come out of the tent, but--" "but what?" "i thought that you might get angry." "i? at you?" and nell raised her eyes and began to gaze at him with a peculiar look with which she had never eyed him before. great astonishment stole over stas' face, for in her words and gaze he plainly read fear. "she fears me," he thought. and in the first moment he felt something like a gleam of satisfaction. he was flattered by the thought that, after what he had accomplished, even nell regarded him not only as a man fully matured, but as a formidable warrior spreading alarm about. but this lasted only a short time, for misfortune had developed in him an observing mind and talent; he discerned, therefore, that in those uneasy eyes of the little girl could be seen, besides fright, abhorrence, as it were, of what had happened, of the bloodshed and the horrors which she that day had witnessed. he recalled how, a few moments before, she withdrew her hand, not wishing to pat saba, who had finished, by strangling, one of the bedouins. yes! stas himself felt an incubus on his breast. it was one thing to read in port said about american trappers, killing in the far west red-skinned indians by the dozens, and another to accomplish that personally and see men, alive a short while before, struggling in their death-throes, in a pool of blood. yes, nell's heart undoubtedly was full of fear and at the same time aversion which would always remain with her. "she will fear me," stas thought, "and in the depths of her heart, involuntarily, she will not cease holding it ill of me, and this will be my reward for all that i have done for her." at this thought great bitterness swelled in his bosom, for it was apparent to him that if it were not for nell he would either have been killed or would have escaped. for her he suffered all that he had endured; and those tortures and that hunger resulted only in this, that she now stood before him frightened, as if she was not the same little sister, and lifted her eyes towards him not with former trustfulness, but with a strange fear. stas suddenly felt very unhappy. for the first time in his life he understood what it was to be moved to tears. in spite of his will tears flowed to his eyes and were it not for the fact that it did not under any circumstances become "a formidable warrior" to weep, he might perhaps have shed tears. he restrained himself, however, and, turning to the little girl, asked: "do you fear, nell?" and she replied in a low voice: "somehow--it is so horrible!" at this stas ordered kali to bring the saddle-cloths from a saddle and, covering with one of them a rock on which he had previously dozed, he spread the other upon the ground and said: "sit here beside me near the fire. how chilly the night is! if sleep overcomes you, rest your head upon me and you will fall asleep." but nell repeated: "somehow--it is so horrible!" stas wrapped her carefully in plaids and for some time they sat in silence, supporting each other and illuminated by a rosy luster which crept over the rocks and sparkled on the mica plates with which the stony fissures were bespangled. beyond the zareba could be heard the snorting of horses and the crunching of grass in their teeth. "listen, nell," stas spoke out. "i had to do that--gebhr threatened that he would stab us both if the lion would not be content with kali and should continue to pursue them. didn't you hear him? think of it; he threatened by that not only me, but you. and he would have done it. i tell you sincerely that if it were not for that threat, though formerly i already was thinking of it, i would not have shot at them. i think i could not--but he exceeded the measure. you saw how cruelly before that time he treated kali. and chamis? how vilely he betrayed us. besides, do you know what would have happened if they did not find smain? gebhr would likewise have vented his anger upon us--upon you. it is dreadful to think that he would have whipped you daily with the courbash, and would have tortured us both to death, and after our death he would return to fashoda and say that we died of fever. nell, i did not do that from fiendishness, but i had to think of this, how to save you--i was concerned only about you--" and his face plainly reflected that affliction which overflowed in his heart. nell evidently understood this, as she pressed yet more closely to him, while he, momentarily mastering his emotions, continued thus: "i, of course, shall not change, and shall guard and watch over you as before. as long as they lived there was no hope of rescue. now we may fly to abyssinia. the abyssinians are black and wild, but christians and foes of the dervishes. if you only retain your health, we shall succeed, for it is not so very far to abyssinia. and even though we do not succeed, though we fall into smain's hand, do not think that he will revenge himself upon us. he never in his life saw either gebhr or the bedouins; he knew only chamis, but what was chamis to him? besides, we need not tell smain that chamis was with us. if we succeed in reaching abyssinia, then we are saved, and if not, you will not fare any worse, but better, for tyrants worse than those men probably cannot be found in the world. do not fear me, nell." and desiring to win her confidence and at the same time cheer her, he began to stroke her little yellow head. the little maid listened, raising timidly her eyes to him. evidently she wanted to say something but hesitated and feared. finally she leaned her head so that her hair entirely covered her face and asked in a yet lower and slightly quivering voice: "stas--" "what is it, dear?" "they will not come here?" "who?" stas asked with amazement. "those--killed." "what are you talking about, nell?" "i am afraid! i am afraid!" and her pallid lips began to quiver. silence ensued. stas did not believe that the slain could rise from the dead, but as it was night and their bodies lay not far away, he became depressed in spirit; a chill passed over his back. "what are you saying, nell?" he repeated. "then dinah taught you to fear ghosts--the dead do not--" and he did not finish, for at that moment something awe-inspiring occurred. amid the stillness of the night, in the depths of the ravine, from the direction in which the corpses lay suddenly resounded a kind of inhuman, frightful laughter in which quivered despair, and joy, and cruelty, and suffering, and pain, and sobbing, and derision; the heart-rending and spasmodic laughter of the insane or condemned. nell screamed, and with her whole strength embraced stas with her arms. stas' hair stood on end. saba started up suddenly and began to growl. but kali, sitting at some distance, quietly raised his head and said almost gleefully: "those are hyenas gloating over gebhr and the lion--" ii the great events of the preceding day and the sensations of the night so tired out stas and nell that when finally slumber overcame them they fell into a deep sleep, and the little girl did nor appear outside the tent until about noon-time. stas rose somewhat earlier from a saddle-cloth spread near the camp-fire, and in expectation of his little companion he ordered kali to prepare a breakfast, which in view of the late hour was to form at the same time their dinner. the bright light of the day dispelled the terrors of the night; both awoke not only well rested, but refreshed in spirit. nell looked better and felt stronger. as both wanted to ride away as far as possible from the place where the slain sudânese were lying, immediately after the refreshments they mounted their horses and moved ahead. at that time of the day all travelers in africa stop for the noon rest, and even caravans composed of negroes seek shelter under the shade of great trees; for they are the so-called white hours, hours of heat and silence, during which the sun broils unmercifully and, looking from above, seems to seek whom to slay. every beast at such times burrows itself in the greatest thicket, the song of birds ceases, the buzz of insects stops, and all nature falls into silence, secreting itself as if desirous of guarding against the eye of a wicked divinity. but they rode on in the ravine in which one of the walls cast a deep shadow, enabling them to proceed without exposing themselves to the scorching heat. stas did not want to leave the ravine, firstly, because, above, they might be espied from a distance by smain's detachments, and then it was easier to find, in rocky crevices, water, which in uncovered places soaked into the ground or under the influence of the sun's rays was transformed into steam. the road continuously but imperceptibly led upwards. on the rocky walls could be seen from time to time yellow traces of sulphur. the water in the clefts was saturated with its odor, which reminded both children unpleasantly of omdurmân and the mahdists, who smeared their heads with fat mixed with sulphur powder. in some places muskcats could be smelt; but there, where from high, overhanging rocks magnificent cascades of lianas fell to the bottom of the ravine, came an intoxicating scent of vanilla. the little wanderers willingly stopped in the shade of these tapestries embroidered with purple flowers and lilies, which with the leaves provided food for the horses. animals could not be seen; only from time to time on the crests of rocks monkeys squatted, resembling on the blue background those fantastic idols which in india adorn the borders of temples. big males with long manes displayed their teeth at saba or stretched out their jaws in sign of amazement and rage, and at the same time jumped about, blinking with their eyes and scratching their sides. but saba, accustomed already to the sight of them, did not pay much heed to their menaces. they rode briskly. joy at recovering liberty drove away from stas' breast that incubus which had throttled him during the night. his mind was now occupied with the thought of what was to be done farther; how to lead nell and himself from a locality in which they were threatened by new captivity with the dervishes; what measures to adopt during the long journey through the wilderness in order not to die of hunger and thirst, and finally, whither to go? he knew already from hatim that the abyssinian boundary in a direct line from fashoda was not more than five days' journey, and he calculated that this would be about one hundred english miles. now from their departure from fashoda almost two weeks had elapsed; so it was clear that they had not gone by the shortest route, but in seeking smain must have turned considerably towards the south. he recollected that on the sixth day they crossed a river which was not the nile, and that afterwards, before the country began to rise, they rode around great swamps. at school in port said, the geography of africa was taught very thoroughly and in stas' memory remained the name of ballor, designating an expansion of the little-known river sobat, a tributary of the nile. he was not indeed certain whether they had passed that expansion, but assumed that they had. it occurred to him that smain, desiring to capture slaves, could not seek for them directly west of fashoda, as that country was already entirely depopulated by dervishes and small-pox; but that he would have to go to localities which heretofore were not visited by an expedition. stas deduced from this that they were following smain's trail, and the thought frightened him in the first moments. he therefore reflected whether it would not be better to abandon the ravine which turned more and more plainly towards the south and go directly eastward. but after a moment's consideration he relinquished the plan. on the contrary, to follow the tracks of smain's band at two or three days' distance appeared to him to be the safest course as it was very improbable that smain would return with his human wares by way of the same circuitous route instead of making his way directly for the nile. stas understood also that abyssinia could be reached only from the southern side where that country borders on a great wilderness and not from the eastern boundary which was carefully guarded by dervishes. as a result of these thoughts he determined to venture as far as possible towards the south. they might encounter negroes, either refugees from the banks of the white nile or natives. but of the two evils stas preferred to have dealings with the blacks rather than with mahdists. he reckoned too that in the event of meeting refugees or natives kali and mea might prove useful. it was enough to glance at the young negress to surmise that she belonged to the dinka or shilluk tribe, for she had uncommonly long and thin limbs, so characteristic of both of those tribes, dwelling on the banks of the nile and wading like cranes and storks, during its inundation. kali, on the other hand, though under gebhr's hand he became like a skeleton, had an entirely different stature. he was short and thick and strongly built; he had powerful shoulders and his feet in comparison with mea's feet were relatively small. as he did not speak arabian at all and spoke poorly the kiswahili language with which one can converse almost anywhere in africa and which stas had learned fairly well from the natives of zanzibar, working on the canal, it was evident that he came from some distant region. stas determined to sound him upon this point. "kali, what is the name of your people?" he asked. "wahima," answered the young negro. "is that a great nation?" "great, which is making war upon the bad samburus and takes their cattle." "is that country like this?" "no. there are mountains and great water." "how is that water called?" "we call it 'the dark water.'" stas thought that the boy might come from the neighborhood of the albert nyanza, which up to that time had been in the hands of emin pasha; so, desiring to confirm this, he asked further: "does not a white chief live there who has black smoking boats and troops?" "no, the old men with us say that they saw white men, (here kali parted his fingers) one, two, three. yes. there were three of them in long white dresses. they were looking for tusks. kali did not see them for he was not in the world, but kali's father received them and gave them many cows." "what is your father?" "the king of wahima." stas was flattered a little by the idea that he had a prince royal for a servant. "would you like to see your father?" "kali wants to see his mother." "what would you do if we met the wahimas, and what would they do?" "the wahimas would fall on their faces before kali." "lead us to them; then you shall remain with them and rule after your father, and we will go farther to the sea." "kali cannot find the way to them, and cannot remain, for kali loves the great master and the daughter of the moon." stas turned merrily to his companion and said: "nell, you have become the daughter of the moon." but, glancing at her, he saddened suddenly, for it occurred to him that the emaciated girl actually looked with her pale and transparent countenance more like a lunar than an earthly being. the young negro became silent for a while; then he repeated: "kali loves bwana kubwa, for bwana kubwa did not kill kali, only gebhr, and gives kali a great deal to eat." and he began to stroke his breast, repeating with evident delight: "a great deal of meat! a great deal of meat!" stas wanted to ascertain how kali became the slave of the dervishes; it appeared that from the night when he was caught in a pit, dug for zebras, he had gone through so many hands that stas could not tell from his statements what countries he had passed through and by what route he had been conducted to fashoda. stas was much impressed by what he said about the "dark water," for if he came from the region of albert nyanza, albert edward nyanza, or even victoria nyanza, near which lay the kingdoms of the unyoro and the uganda, he would undoubtedly have heard something about emin pasha, about his troops, and about the steamers, which aroused the wonder and fear of the negroes. tanganyika was too far away; there remained only the supposition that kali's nation had its seat somewhere nearer. for this reason their meeting with the wahimas was not an utter improbability. after a few hours' ride, the sun began to descend. the heat decreased considerably. they chanced upon a wide valley in which they found water and a score or more of wild fig trees. so they stopped to rest their horses and partake of provisions. as the rocky walls at that place were lower, stas ordered kali to climb to the top and ascertain whether smoke could not be seen in the vicinity. kali complied with the order and in the twinkling of an eye reached the edge of the rocks. peering around carefully in all directions he slid down a thick liana stalk and announced that there was no smoke, but that there were "niama." it was easy to surmise that he was speaking not of guinea-fowl but of some bulkier game, for he pointed at stas' short rifle and afterwards put his fingers on his head to indicate horned game. stas in turn climbed up and, leaning his head carefully over the edge, began to look ahead. nothing obstructed his view of the expanse, as the old, high jungle was burnt away and the new, which had already sprouted from the blackened ground, was barely a few inches high. as far as the eye could reach could be seen sparsely growing great trees, with trunks singed by the fire. under the shade of one of them grazed a flock of antelopes which from the shape of their bodies resembled horses, and from their heads buffaloes. the sun penetrating through the baobab leaves cast quivering bright spots upon their brown backs. there were ten of them. the distance was not more than one hundred paces, but the wind blew from the animals towards the ravine, so they grazed quietly, not suspecting any danger. stas, desiring to replenish his supplies with meat, shot at the nearest one, which tumbled on the ground as if struck by lightning. the rest of the flock ran away, and with them a great buffalo, which he did not perceive before, as he lay hidden behind a stone. the boy, not from necessity, but from a sporting vein, choosing the moment when the animal turned his side somewhat, sent a bullet after him. the buffalo staggered greatly after the shot, drew in his haunches, but rushed away, and before stas was able to reload disappeared in the unevenness of the ground. before the smoke blew away, kali sat upon the antelope and cut open its abdomen with gebhr's knife. stas walked towards him, desiring to inspect more closely the animal, and great was his surprise when after a while the young negro with blood-stained hands handed to him the reeking liver of the antelope. "why are you giving me that?" he asked. "msuri, msuri! bwana kubwa eat at once." "eat it yourself," replied stas, indignant at the proposition. kali did not allow this command to be repeated, but immediately began to tear the liver with his teeth, and greedily gulp down the raw pieces; seeing that stas gazed at him with loathing he did not cease between one gulp and another to repeat: "msuri! msuri!" in this manner he ate over half of the liver; after which he started to dress the antelope. he did this with uncommon quickness and skill, so that soon the hide was flayed and the haunches were separated from the backbone. then stas, somewhat surprised that saba was not present at this work, whistled for him to come to a bounteous feast of the fore parts of the animal. but saba did not appear at all. instead, kali, who was bending over the antelope, raised his head and said: "the big dog ran after the buffalo." "did you see him?" stas asked. "kali saw." saying this, he placed the loin of the antelope on his head and the two haunches on his shoulders and started for the ravine. stas whistled a few times more and waited, but seeing that he was doing this in vain, followed kali. in the ravine mea was already engaged in cutting the thorns for a zareba, while nell, picking with her little fingers the last guinea-fowl, asked: "did you whistle for saba? he ran after you." "he ran after a buffalo which i wounded with a shot, and i am worried," stas answered. "those animals are terribly ferocious and so powerful that even a lion fears to attack them. saba may fare badly if he begins a fight with such an adversary." hearing this nell became alarmed and declared that she would not go to sleep until saba returned. stas, seeing her grief, was angry at himself because he had not concealed the danger from her and began to comfort her: "i would go after them with the rifle," he said, "but they must now be very far away, and soon the night will fall and the tracks will be invisible. the buffalo is badly wounded, and i have a hope that he will fall. in any case he will weaken through loss of blood, and if he should rush at saba, saba will be able to run away. yes! he may return during the night, but he surely will return." although he said this, he did not greatly believe his own words, for he remembered what he had read of the extraordinarily revengeful nature of the african buffalo, which, though heavily wounded, will run about in a circuit and lie in ambush near a path over which the hunter goes and afterwards attack him unexpectedly, pin him on its horns, and toss him into the air. something similar might happen to saba; not to speak of other dangers which threatened him on the return to the camp during the night. in fact night soon fell. kali and mea put up a zareba, built a fire, and prepared supper. saba did not return. nell became more and more worried and finally began to cry. stas with difficulty persuaded her to lie down, promising her that he would wait for saba, and as soon as the day should break, he himself would search for the dog and bring him back. nell indeed entered the tent, but at intervals she put out her little head from under its folds, asking whether the dog had not returned. sleep overcame her only after midnight, when mea came out to relieve kali, who watched the fire. "why does the daughter of the moon weep?" the young negro asked stas, when both lay down on the saddle-cloths. "kali does not want that." "she is sorry for saba, whom the buffalo has surely killed." "but perhaps he did not kill him," replied the black boy. after this they became silent and stas fell into a deep sleep. it was still dark, however, when he awoke, for the chill began to incommode him. the fire was partly extinct. mea, who was to watch the fire, dozed and after a time had ceased throwing fuel upon the flames. the saddle-cloth on which kali slept was unoccupied. stas himself threw brushwood onto the fire, after which he shook the negress and asked: "where is kali?" for a time she stared at him unconsciously; afterwards coming to her senses, she said: "kali took gebhr's sword and went beyond the zareba. i thought he wanted to cut more brushwood, but he did not return at all." "did he go long ago?" "long." stas waited for some time, but as the negro did not return, he involuntarily propounded to himself the question: "did he run away?" and his heart was oppressed by the disagreeable feeling which human ingratitude always arouses. why! he had interceded for this kali and defended him when gebhr vented his rage upon him for whole days, and afterwards he had saved the slave's life. nell was always kind to him and had wept over his unhappy lot, and both treated him in the best possible manner. now he ran away! he himself had said that he did not know in which direction the wahima settlements were situated, and though he would be unable to find them, he nevertheless ran away. stas again recollected those "african travels" in port said, and the narratives of travelers about the stupidity of negroes, who, throwing away packages, run away although in their escape they are threatened by inevitable death. in fact, kali, having as his only weapon gebhr's sudânese sword, must die of starvation, or if he did not fall again into the captivity of the dervishes would become the prey of wild animals. ah! ingrate and fool! stas then began to meditate over this;--how far more difficult and vexatious the journey without kali would be for them, and how much heavier the work. to water the horses and fetter them for the night, to pitch the tent, build zarebas, watch during the journey that none of the supplies and packets with things were lost, to flay and dress the slain animals, all this for want of the young negro was to fall upon him and he admitted in his soul that as to some of these employments, flaying the hides of animals, for instance, he did not have the slightest knowledge. "ha! it will be hard," he said, "but necessary." in the meantime the sun emerged from beyond the horizon and, as usually happens in the tropics, in a moment it was day. somewhat later the water for bathing, which mea had prepared during the night for the little lady, began to splash, which meant that nell had risen and was dressing herself. in fact, she soon appeared, already dressed, with a comb in her hand and her hair still unkempt. "and saba?" she asked. "he has not come yet." the lips of the little girl at once began to quiver. "he may yet return," said stas. "you remember that on the desert sometimes he was not seen for two days, and afterwards he always overtook us." "you said that you would go and search for him." "i cannot." "why, stas?" "i cannot leave you in the ravine alone with mea." "and kali?" "kali is not here." stas was silent, not knowing whether to tell her the whole truth; but as the matter could not be concealed he thought it best to divulge it at once. "kali took gebhr's sword," he said, "and in the night went away; i do not know where. who knows whether he has not run away? the negroes often do that, even to their own destruction. i am sorry for him--but he may understand that he has acted like a fool and--" further words were interrupted by saba's joyful barking which filled the whole ravine. nell threw the comb on the ground and wanted to rush out to meet him. she was prevented, however, by the thorns of the zareba. stas, with the greatest haste, began to scatter them about, but before he had opened a passage saba appeared and after him kali, as shiny and wet from the dew as if after the greatest rain. immense joy possessed both children, and when kali, out of breath from fatigue, came inside the enclosure, nell flung her white hands around his black neck and hugged him with all her strength. and he said: "kali did not want to see the 'bibi' cry, so kali found the dog." "good boy, kali!" answered stas, slapping him on the shoulders. "did you not fear in the night that you would meet a lion or a panther?" "kali feared, but kali went," answered the boy. these words gained still more the hearts of the children. stas, at nell's request, took out from one of the small pieces of luggage a string of glass beads with which they had been provided by the greek, kaliopuli, on their departure from omdurmân; with it he decorated kali's splendid throat; while the latter, overjoyed with the gift, glanced at once with pride at mea and said: "mea has no beads and kali has, for kali is 'the great world.'" in this manner was the devotion of the black boy rewarded. on the other hand saba received a sharp rebuke, from which, for the second time in nell's service, he learned that he was perfectly horrid, and that if he once more did anything like that he would be led by a string like a puppy. he heard this, wagging his tail in quite an equivocal manner. nell, however, claimed that it could be seen from his eyes that he was ashamed and that he certainly blushed; only this could not be seen because his mouth was covered with hair. after this followed breakfast, consisting of excellent wild figs and a rump of venison. during the breakfast kali related his adventures, while stas interpreted them in english for nell who did not understand the kiswahili language. the buffalo, as it appeared, fled far. it was difficult for kali to find the tracks as it was a moonless night. fortunately, rain had fallen two days before and the ground was not too hard; in consequence of this the heavy animal's hoofs left deep imprints upon it. kali sought them with the aid of his toes and walked a long distance. the buffalo finally fell and must have dropped dead as there was no sign of a fight between him and saba. when kali found them saba already had devoured the greater part of the fore quarter of the buffalo, and although he was fully sated he would not permit the approach of two hyenas and about a dozen of jackals, which stood waiting until the more powerful rapacious creature finished his feast and left. the boy complained that the dog also growled at him, but he then threatened him with the anger of the "great master" and the "bibi," after which he grabbed him by the collar and dragged him from the buffalo, and did not let go of him until they reached the ravine. with this ended the narrative of kali's nocturnal adventures, after which all in good humor mounted their horses and proceeded on their journey. one alone, long-limbed mea, though quiet and meek, gazed with envy at the young negro's necklace and saba's collar, and with sorrow in her heart thought: "both of them are 'the great world,' and i have only a brass ring on one leg." iii during the following three days they rode continuously in the ravine and always upwards. the days were as a rule scorching, the nights alternately cool or sultry; the rainy season was approaching. from beyond the horizon here and there emerged clouds, white as milk but deep and heavy. at the sides could already be seen stripes of rain and distant rainbows. towards the morning of the third day one of these clouds burst above their heads like a barrel from which the hoops had flown off and sprinkled them with a warm and copious rain which fortunately was of brief duration. afterwards the weather became fine and they could ride farther. guinea-fowls again appeared in such numbers that stas shot at them without dismounting from his horse, and in this manner got five, which more than sufficed for one meal, even counting saba. travel in the refreshed air was not burdensome, and the abundance of game and water removed fears of hunger and thirst. on the whole everything passed more easily than they had anticipated. so then good humor did not desert stas, and, riding beside the little girl, he chattered merrily with her and at times even joked. "do you know, nell," he said, when for a while he stopped the horses under a great bread-fruit tree from which kali and mea cut off fruit resembling huge melons, "at times it seems to me that i am a knight-errant." "and what is a knight-errant?" asked nell, turning her pretty head towards him. "long, long ago in the mediaeval days there were knights who rode over the world, looking for adventure. they fought with giants and dragons, and do you know that each one had his lady, whom he protected and defended?" "and am i such a lady?" stas pondered for a while, after which he replied: "no, you are too small. all those others were grown up." and it never occurred to him that probably no knight-errant had ever performed as much for his lady as he had done for his little sister. plainly it appeared to him that whatever he had done was done as a matter of course. but nell felt aggrieved at his words; so with a pout she said: "and you once said in the desert that i acted like a person of thirteen. aha!" "well, that was once. but you are eight." "then after ten years i shall be eighteen." "a great thing! and i shall be twenty-four! at such age a man does not think of any ladies for he has something else to do; that is self-evident." "and what will you do?" "i shall be an engineer or a sailor or, if there is a war in poland, i shall go to fight, just as my father did." while she asked uneasily: "but you will return to port said?" "we both must return there first." "to papa!" the little girl replied. and her eyes were dimmed with sorrow and longing. fortunately there flew at that moment a small flock of wonderfully fine parrots, gray, with rosy heads, and a rosy lining under their wings. the children at once forgot about their previous conversation and began to follow the flight with their eyes. the little flock circled about a group of euphorbias and lighted upon sycamores, growing at some distance, amidst the branches of which resounded voices similar to a wordy conference or a quarrel. "those are parrots which are very easily taught to talk," stas said. "when we stop at a place for a length of time, i will try to catch one for you." "oh, stas, thank you!" answered nell gleefully. "i will call it daisy." in the meantime mea and kali, having cut off fruit from the bread-fruit tree, loaded the horses with it, and the little caravan proceeded. in the afternoon it began to cloud and at times brief showers occurred, filling the crevices and the depressions in the earth. kali predicted a great downpour, so it occurred to stas that the ravine, which was becoming narrower and narrower, would not be a safe shelter for the night, for it could change into a torrent. for this reason he determined to pass the night above, and this decision delighted nell, particularly when kali, who was sent to reconnoitre, returned and announced that not far away was a small grove composed of various trees, and in it many monkeys, not as ugly as the baboons which up to that time they had met. chancing thereafter upon a place at which the rocky walls were low and sloped gradually, he led the horses out, and before it grew dark they built a barricade for the night. nell's tent stood on a high and dry spot close to a big white-ant hillock, which barred the access from one side and for that reason lessened the labor of building the zareba. near-by stood a large tree with widely spread boughs which, covered by dense foliage, furnished shelter against rain. in front of the zareba grew single clumps of trees and further a thick forest entangled with climbing plants, beyond which loftily shot out crowns of strange palm trees resembling gigantic fans or outspread peacock tails. stas learned from kali that before the second rainy season, that is, in autumn, it was dangerous to pass the night under these palm trees, for the huge-fruit, at that time ripe, breaks off unexpectedly and falls from a considerable distance with such force that it can kill a person or even a horse. at present, however, the fruit was in bud, and in the distance before the sun set there could be seen, under the crowns, agile little monkeys, which, leaping gaily, chased each other. stas, with kali, prepared a great supply of wood, sufficient for the whole night, and, as at times strong blasts of hot air broke out, they reinforced the zareba with pickets which the young negro whittled with gebhr's sword and stuck in the ground. this precaution was not at all superfluous, as a powerful whirlwind could scatter the thorny boughs with which the zareba was constructed and facilitate an attack by beasts of prey. however, immediately after sunset the wind ceased, and instead, the air became sultry and heavy. through the rifts in the clouds the stars glittered here and there, but afterwards the night became so utterly dark that one could not see a step ahead. the little wanderers grouped about the fire, while their ears were assailed by the loud cries and shrieks of monkeys who in the adjacent forest created a veritable bedlam. this was accompanied by the whining of jackals and by various other voices in which could be recognized uneasiness and fright before something which under the cover of darkness threatened every living being in the wilderness. suddenly the voices subsided for in the dusky depths resounded the groans of a lion. the horses, which were pastured at some distance on the young jungle, began to approach the fire, starting up suddenly on their fettered fore legs, while the hair on saba, who usually was so brave, bristled, and with tail curled under him, he nestled close to the people, evidently seeking their protection. the groaning again resounded, as though it came from under the ground; deep, heavy, strained, as if the beast with difficulty drew it from its powerful lungs. it proceeded lowly over the ground, alternately increased and subsided, passing at times into a hollow, prodigiously mournful moan. "kali, throw fuel into the fire," commanded stas. the negro threw upon the camp-fire an armful of boughs so hastily that at first whole sheaves of sparks burst out, after which a high flame shot up. "stas, the lion will not attack us, will he?" whispered nell, pulling the boy by the sleeve. "no, he will not attack us. see how high the zareba is." and speaking thus, he actually believed that danger did not threaten them, but he was alarmed about the horses, which pressed more and more closely to the fence and might trample it down. in the meantime the groans changed into the protracted, thunderous roar by which all living creatures are struck with terror, and the nerves of people, who do not know what fear is, shake, just as the window-panes rattle from distant cannonading. stas cast a fleeting glance at nell, and seeing her quivering chin and moist eyes, said: "do not fear; don't cry." and she answered as if with difficulty: "i do not want to cry--only my eyes perspire--oh!" the last ejaculation burst from her lips because at that moment from the direction of the forest thundered a second roar even stronger than the first for it was nearer. the horses began to push upon the zareba and were it not for the long and hard-as-steel thorns of the acacia branches, they would have demolished it. saba growled and at the same time trembled like a leaf, while kali began to repeat with a broken voice: "master, two! two! two!" and the lions, aware of each other's presence, did not cease roaring, and the horrible concert continued in the darkness incessantly, for when one beast became silent the other began again. stas soon could not distinguish from where the sounds came, as the echoes repeated them in the ravine; rock sent them back to rock, they ascended and descended, filling the forest and the jungle, and the entire darkness with thunder and fear. to the boy one thing seemed certain, and that was that they approached nearer and nearer. kali perceived likewise that the lions ran about the encampment making a smaller circle each moment, and that, prevented from making an attack only by the glare of the flames, they were expressing their dissatisfaction and fear by their roar. evidently, however, he thought that danger threatened only the horses, as, spreading his fingers, he said: "the lions will kill one, two, not all! not all!" "throw wood into the fire," repeated stas. a livelier flame burst forth; the roars suddenly ceased. but kali, raising his head and gazing upwards, began to listen. "what is it?" stas asked. "rain," replied the negro. stas in turn listened. the branches of the tree mantled the tent and the whole zareba so that not a drop of rain fell upon the ground, but above could be heard the rustle of leaves. as the sultry air was not stirred by the slightest breeze, it was easy to surmise that it was the rain which began to murmur in the jungle. the rustle increased with each moment and after a time the children saw drops flowing from the leaves, similar in the luster of the fire to ruddy pearls. as kali had forecast, a downpour began. the rustle changed into a roar. ever-increasing drops fell, and finally through the dense foliage whole streams of water began to penetrate. the camp-fire darkened. in vain kali threw whole armfuls into it. on the surface the wet boughs smoked only, and below, the burning wood began to hiss and the flame, however much it was replenished, began to be extinguished. "when the downpour quenches the fire, the zareba will defend us," stas said to pacify nell. after which he conducted the little girl into the tent and wrapped her in plaids, but he himself went out as quickly as possible as the briefly interrupted roars had broken out again. this time they sounded considerably nearer and as if they were gleeful. the downpour intensified with each moment. the rain pattered on the hard leaves and splashed. if the camp-fire had not been under the shelter of the boughs, it would have been quenched at once, but as it was there hovered over it mainly smoke, amid which narrow, blue little flames glittered. kali gave up the task and did not add any more deadwood. instead he flung a rope around the tree and with its aid climbed higher and higher on the trunk. "what are you doing?" stas asked. "kali climbs the tree." "what for?" shouted the boy, indignant at the negro's selfishness. bright, dreadful flashes of lightning rent the darkness and kali's reply was drowned by a peal of thunder which shook heaven and the wilderness. simultaneously a whirlwind broke out, tugged the boughs of the tree, swept away in the twinkling of an eye the camp-fire, seized the embers, still burning under the ashes, and carried them with sheaves of sparks into the jungle. impenetrable darkness temporarily encompassed the camp. a terrible tropical storm raged on earth and in the sky. thunder followed thunder, lightning, lightning. the gory zigzags of thunderbolts rent the sky, black as a pall. on the neighboring rocks appeared strange blue balls, which sometimes rolled along the ravine and then burst with a blinding light and broke out with a peal so terrible that it seemed as if the rocks would be reduced to powder from the shock. afterwards darkness again followed. stas became alarmed about nell and went groping in the darkness to the tent. the tent, protected by the white-ant hillock and the giant tree-trunk, stood yet, but the first strong buffet of the whirlwind might pull out the ropes and carry it the lord knows where. and the whirlwind subsided, then broke out again with a fury, carrying waves of rain, and clouds of leaves, and branches broken off in the adjacent forest. stas was beset with despair. he did not know whether to leave nell in the tent or lead her out of it. in the first case she might get entangled in the ropes and be seized with the linen folds, and in the other she would get a thorough drenching and also would be carried away, as stas, though beyond comparison stronger, with the greatest difficulty could keep on his feet. the problem was solved by the whirlwind which a moment later carried away the top of the tent. the linen walls now did not afford any shelter. nothing else remained to do but to wait in the darkness in which the lions lurked, until the storm passed away. stas conjectured that probably the lions had sought shelter from the tempest in the neighboring forest, but he was certain that after the storm they would return. the danger of the situation increased because the wind had totally swept away the zareba. everything was threatened with destruction. the rifle could not avail for anything, nor could his energy. in the presence of the storm, thunderbolts, hurricane, rain, darkness, and the lions, which might be concealed but a few paces away, he felt disarmed and helpless. the linen walls tugged by the wind splashed them with water from all sides, so, enclosing nell in his arms, he led her from the tent; after which both nestled close to the trunk of the tree, awaiting death or divine mercy. at this moment, between one blow of the wind and another, kali's voice reached them, barely audible amidst the splashing of the rain. "great master! up the tree! up the tree!" and simultaneously the end of a wet rope, lowered from above, touched the boy's shoulder. "tie the 'bibi,' and kali will pull her up!" the negro continued to shout. stas did not hesitate a moment. wrapping nell in a saddle-cloth in order that the rope should not cut her body, he tied a girdle around her; after which he lifted her and shouted: "pull!" the first boughs of the tree were quite low so nell's aerial journey was brief. kali soon seized her with his powerful arms and placed her between the trunk and a giant bough, where there was sufficient room for half a dozen of such diminutive beings. no wind could blow her away from there and in addition, even although water flowed all over the tree, the trunk, about fifteen feet thick, shielded her at least from new waves of rain borne obliquely by the wind. having attended to the safety of the little "bibi," the negro again lowered the rope for stas, but he, like a captain who is the last to leave a sinking ship, ordered mea to go ahead of him. kali did not at all need to pull her as in a moment she climbed the rope with skill and agility as if she were the full sister of a chimpanzee. for stas it was considerably more difficult, but he was too well-trained an athlete not to overcome the weight of his own body together with the rifle and a score of cartridges with which he filled his pockets. in this manner all four found themselves in the tree. stas was so accustomed to think of nell in every situation that now he was occupied, above all, in ascertaining whether she was not in danger of falling, whether she had sufficient room and whether she could lie down comfortably. satisfied in this respect, he began to wrack his brains as to how to protect her from the rain. but for this there was no help. it would have been easy to construct during the daytime some kind of roof over her head, but now they were enveloped in such darkness that they could not see each other at all. if the storm at last passed away and if they succeeded in starting the fire again, they might dry nell's dress! stas, with despair, thought that the little girl, soaked to the skin, would undoubtedly on the following day suffer from the first attack of fever. he feared that towards the morning, after the storm, it would be as cool as it was on the previous night. thus far the wind was rather warm and the rain as though heated. stas was surprised at its persistence as he knew that the more strongly a storm raged the shorter was its duration. after a long time the thunder abated and the buffets of the wind weakened, but the rain continued to fall, less copious, indeed, than before, but so heavy and thick that the leaves did not afford any protection against it. from below came the murmur of water as if the whole jungle were transformed into a lake. stas thought that in the ravine certain death would have awaited them. immense sorrow possessed him at the thought of what might have become of saba, and he did not dare to speak of him to nell. he, nevertheless, had a slight hope that the intelligent dog would find a safe haven among the rocks projecting above the ravine. there was not, however, a possibility of going to him with any aid. they sat, therefore, one beside the other amid the expanding boughs, drenched and waiting for the day. after the lapse of a few more hours the air began to cool and the rain finally ceased. the water too flowed down the slope to a lower place as they could not hear a splash or a murmur. stas had observed on the previous days that kali understood how to stir up a fire with wet twigs, so it occurred to him to order the negro to descend and try whether he would not succeed this time. but at the moment in which he turned to him something happened which froze the blood in the veins of all four. the deep silence of the night was rent suddenly by the squeaking of horses, horrible, shrill, full of pain, fears, and mortal dismay. some mischief was afoot in the darkness; there resounded short rattlings in the throat, afterwards hollow groans, a snorting, a second squeak yet more penetrating, after which all was quiet. "lions, great master! lions killing horses!" whispered kali. there was something so horrible in this night attack, in the superior force of the monsters, and in the sudden slaughter of the defenseless animals that stas for a time was struck with consternation, and forgot about the rifle. what, after all, would it have availed him to shoot in such darkness? unless for this, that those midnight assassins, if the flash and report should frighten them, would abandon the horses already killed, and start after those which were scared away and had run from the camp as far as their fettered legs would permit them. stas' flesh began to creep at the thought of what would have happened if they had remained below. nell, nestling close to him, shook as if she already were suffering the first attack of fever, but the tree at least protected them from an attack of lions. kali plainly had saved their lives. it was, however, a horrible night--the most horrible in the entire journey. they sat like drenched birds on a twig, listening to what was happening below. and there for some time a deep silence continued, but soon came a peculiar sound as though of lapping, smacking of torn-off pieces of flesh, together with the horses' heavy breathing and the groans of the monsters. the odor of the raw meat and blood reached up to the tree, as the lions feasted not farther than twenty paces from the zareba. and they feasted so long that in the end anger seized stas. he seized the rifle and fired in the direction of the sounds. but he was answered only by a broken, irritated roar, after which resounded the cracking of bones, rattling in powerful jaws. in the depths glared the blue and red eyes of hyenas and jackals waiting for their turn. and thus the long hours of the night passed away. iv the sun finally rose and illuminated the jungle, groups of trees, and the forest. the lions had disappeared before the first ray began to gleam on the horizon. stas commanded kali to build a fire. mea was ordered to take nell's clothes out of the leather bag in which they were packed, to dry them, and to dress anew the little girl as soon as possible; while stas himself, taking his rifle, proceeded to visit the camp and at the same time to view the devastation wrought by the storm and the two midnight assassins. immediately beyond the zareba, of which only the pickets remained, lay the first horse almost half devoured; about a hundred paces farther the second, barely touched, and immediately behind him the third, disemboweled, and with crushed head. all presented a horrible sight; their eyes were open, full of settled terror, and their teeth were bared. the ground was trampled upon; in the depressions were whole puddles of blood. stas was seized with such rage that at the moment he almost wished that the shaggy head of a marauder, sluggish after the nocturnal feast, would emerge from some cluster of trees that he might put a bullet in him. but he had to postpone his revenge to a later time for at present he had something else to do. it was necessary to find and capture the remaining horses. the boy assumed that they must have sought shelter in the forest, and that the same was true of saba, whose body was nowhere to be seen. the hope that the faithful companion in misfortune had not fallen a victim to the predaceous beasts pleased stas so much that he gained more courage. his happiness was yet augmented by the discovery of the donkey. it appeared that the sagacious, long-eared creature did not wish to fatigue himself by a too distant flight. he had ensconced himself outside of the zareba in a corner formed by the white-ant hillock and the tree and there, having his head and sides protected, had awaited developments, prepared in an emergency to repel an attack by kicking heroically with his heels. but the lions, apparently, did not perceive him at all, so when the sun rose and danger passed away he deemed it proper to lie down and rest after the dramatic sensations of the night. stas, strolling about the camp, finally discovered upon the softened ground the imprint of horses' hoofs. the tracks led in the direction of the forest and afterwards turned towards the ravine. this was a favorable circumstance for the capture of the horses in the ravine did not present any great difficulties. between ten and twenty paces farther he found in the grass the fetters which one of the horses had broken in his escape. this one must have run away so far that for the time being he must be regarded as lost. on the other hand, the two espied by stas were behind a low rock, not in the hollow itself, but on the brink. one of them was rolling about, while the other was cropping the new light-green grass. both looked unusually exhausted, as if after a long journey. but the daylight had banished fear from their hearts, so they greeted stas with a short, friendly neigh. the horse which was rolling about started to his feet. the boy observed that this one also had freed himself from his fetters, but fortunately he apparently preferred to remain with his companion instead of running away wherever his eyes should lead him. stas left both horses near the rock and went to the brink of the ravine to ascertain whether a farther journey by way of it was feasible. and he saw that owing to the great declivity the water had flowed away and the bottom was almost dry. after a while his attention was attracted to a white object entangled in the climbing plants in the recess of the opposite rocky wall. it appeared that it was the top of the tent which the wind had carried as far as that and driven into the thicket so that the water could not carry it away. the tent, at any rate, assured nell of a better protection than a hut hurriedly constructed of boughs; so its recovery greatly delighted stas. but his joy increased still more when from a lower recess partly hidden by lianas saba sprang out, holding in his teeth some kind of animal whose head and tail hung from his jaws. the powerful dog, in the twinkling of an eye, reached the top, and laid at stas' feet a striped hyena with broken back and gnawed foot. after which he began to wag his tail and bark joyfully as if he wanted to say: "i admit that i behaved like a coward before the lions, but to tell the truth, you sat perched on the tree like guinea-fowls. look, however! i did not waste the night altogether." and he was so proud of himself that stas was barely able to induce him to leave the bad-smelling animal on the spot and not to carry it as a gift to nell. when they both returned a good fire was burning in the camp; water was bubbling in the utensils in which boiled durra grain, two guinea-fowls, and smoked strips of venison. nell was already attired in a dry dress but looked so wretched and pale that stas became alarmed about her, and, taking her hand to ascertain whether she had a fever, asked: "nell, what ails you?" "nothing, stas; only i do want to sleep so much." "i believe you! after such a night! thank god, your hands are cool. ah, what a night it was! no wonder you want to sleep. i do also. but don't you feel sick?" "my head aches a little." stas placed his palm on her head. her little head was as cold as her hands; this, however, only proved great exhaustion and weakness, so the boy sighed and said: "eat something warm and immediately afterwards lie down to sleep and you will sleep until the evening. to-day, at least, the weather is fine and it will not be as it was yesterday." and nell glanced at him with fear. "but we will not pass the night here." "no, not here, for there lie the gnawed remains of the horses; we will select some other tree, or will go to the ravine and there will build a zareba such as the world has not seen. you will sleep as peacefully as in port said." but she folded her little hands and began to beg him with tears that they should ride farther, as in that horrible place she would not be able to close her eyes and surely would become ill. and in this way she begged him, in this way she repeated, gazing into his eyes, "what, stas? well?" so that he agreed to everything. "then we shall ride by way of the ravine," he said, "for there is shade there. only promise me that if you feel weak or sick, you will tell me." "i am strong enough. tie me to the saddle and i will sleep easily on the road." "no. i shall place you on my horse and i shall hold you. kali and mea will ride on the other and the donkey will carry the tent and things." "very well! very well!" "immediately after breakfast you must take a nap. we cannot start anyway before noon. it is necessary to catch the horses, to fold the tent, to rearrange the packs. part of the things we shall leave here for now we have but two horses altogether. this will require a few hours and in the meantime you will sleep and refresh yourself. to-day will be hot, but shade will not be lacking under the tree." "and you--and mea and kali? i am so sorry that i alone shall sleep while you will be tiring yourselves--" "on the contrary, we shall have time to nap. don't worry about me. in port said during examination time i often did not sleep whole nights; of which my father knew nothing. my classmates also did not sleep. but a man is not a little fly like you. you have no idea how you look to-day--just like glass. there remain only eyes and tufts of hair; there is no face at all." he said this jestingly, but in his soul he feared, as by the strong daylight nell plainly had a sickly countenance and for the first time he clearly understood that if it continued thus the poor child not only might, but must, die. at this thought his legs trembled for he suddenly felt that in case of her death he would not have anything to live for, or a reason for returning to port said. "for what would i then have to do?" he thought. for a while he turned away in order that nell might not observe the grief and fear in his eyes, and afterwards went to the things deposited under the tree. he threw aside the saddle-cloth with which the cartridge box was covered, opened it, and began to search for something. he had hidden there in a small glass bottle the last of the quinine powders and had guarded it like an "eye in the head" for "the black hour," that is, for the emergency when nell should be fever-stricken. but now he was almost certain that after such a night the first attack would come, so he determined to prevent it. he did this with a heavy heart, thinking of what would happen later, and were it not that it did not become a man and the leader of a caravan to weep, he would have burst into tears over this last powder. so, desiring to conceal his emotion, he assumed a very stern mien and, addressing the little girl, said: "nell, before you eat, take the rest of the quinine." she, on the other hand, asked: "but if you catch the fever?" "then i will shiver. take it, i tell you." she took it without further resistance, for from the time he killed the sudânese she feared him a little, notwithstanding all his efforts for her comfort and the kindness he evinced towards her. afterwards they sat down to breakfast, and after the fatigue of the night, the hot broth of guinea-fowl tasted delicious. nell fell asleep immediately after the refreshment and slept for several hours. stas, kali, and mea during that time put the caravan in order. they brought from the ravine the top of the tent, saddled the horses, and put the packages on the donkey and buried under the roots of the tree those things which they could not take with them. drowsiness terribly assailed them at the work, and stas, from fear that they should fall asleep, permitted himself and them to take short naps in turn. it was perhaps two o'clock when they started on their further journey. stas held nell before him; kali rode with mea on the other horse. they did not ride at once down the ravine, but proceeded between its brink and the forest. the young jungle had grown considerably during the rainy night; the soil under it, however, was black and bore traces of fire. it was easy to surmise that smain had passed that way with his division, or that the fire driven from far by a strong gale had swept over the dry jungle and, finally encountering a damp forest, had passed on by a not very wide track between it and the ravine. stas wanted to ascertain whether traces of smain's camp or imprints of hoofs could not be found on this track; and with pleasure he became convinced that nothing resembling them could be seen. kali, who was well versed in such matters, claimed positively that the fire must have been borne by the wind and that since that time at least a fortnight must have elapsed. "this proves," observed stas, "that smain, with his mahdists, is already the lord knows where, and in no case shall we fall into his hands." afterwards he and nell began to gaze curiously at the vegetation, as thus far they had not ridden so close to a tropical forest. they rode now along its very edge in order to have the shade over their heads. the soil here was moist and soft, overgrown with dark-green grass, moss, and ferns. here and there lay decomposed trunks, covered as though with a carpet of most beautiful orchids, with flowers brightly colored like butterflies and brightly colored cups in the center of the crown. wherever the sun reached, the ground was gilded by other odd orchids, small and yellow, in which two petals protruding on the sides of a third petal created a resemblance to the head of a little animal with big ears ending abruptly. in some places the forest was lined with bushes of wild jasmine draped in garlands with thin, climbing plants, blooming rose-colored. the shallow hollows and depressions were overgrown with ferns, compressed into one impenetrable thicket, here low and expansive, there high, entwined with climbing plants, as though distaffs, reaching up to the first boughs of the trees and spreading under them in delicate green lace. in the depths there was a great variety of trees; date, raffia, fan-palm, sycamore, bread-fruit, euphorbia, immense varieties of senna, acacia; trees with foliage dark and glittering and light or red as blood grew side by side, trunk by trunk, with entangled branches from which shot yellow and purple flowers resembling candlesticks. in some groups the tree-tops could not be seen as the climbing plants covered them from top to bottom, and leaping from trunk to trunk formed the letters w and m and hung in form of festoons, portières, and whole curtains. caoutchouc lianas just strangled the trees with thousands of serpentine tendrils and transformed them into pyramids, buried with white flowers like snow. about the greater lianas the smaller entwined and the medley became so thick that it formed a wall through which neither man nor animal could penetrate. only in places where the elephants, whose strength nothing can resist, forced their way, were there beaten down in the thicket deep and winding passageways, as it were. the song of birds which so pleasantly enlivens the european forest could not be heard at all; instead, on the tree-tops resounded the strangest calls, similar to the sound of a saw, to the beating of a drum, to the clatter of a stork, to the squeaking of old doors, to the clapping of hands, to caterwauling, or even to the loud, excited talk of men. from time to time soared above the trees flocks of parrots, gray, green, white, or a small bevy of gaudily plumaged toucans in a quiet, wavy flight. on the snowy background of the rubber climbing plants glimmered like sylvan sprites, little monkey-mourners, entirely black with the exception of white tails, a white girdle on the sides, and white whiskers enveloping faces of the hue of coal. the children gazed with admiration at this virgin forest which the eyes of a white man perhaps had never beheld. saba every little while plunged into the thicket from which came his happy barks. the quinine, breakfast, and sleep had revived little nell. her face was animated and assumed bright colors, her eyes sparkled. every moment she asked stas the names of various trees and birds and he answered as well as he could. finally she announced that she wanted to dismount from the horse and pluck a bunch of flowers. but the boy smiled and said: "the siafu would eat you at once." "what is a siafu? is it worse than a lion?" "worse and not worse. they are ants which bite terribly. there are a great many of them on the branches from which they fall on people's backs like a rain of fire. but they also walk on the ground. dismount from the horse and try merely to walk a little in the forest and at once you will begin to jump and whine like a monkey. it is easier to defend one's self against a lion. at times they move in immense ranks and then everything gives way to them." "and would you be able to cope with them?" "i? of course. with the help of fire or boiling water." "you always know how to take care of yourself," she said with deep conviction. these words flattered stas greatly; so he replied conceitedly and at the same time merrily: "if you were only well, then as to the rest depend upon me." "my head does not even ache now." "thank god! thank god!" speaking thus they passed the forest, but one flank of which reached the hollow way. the sun was still high in the heaven and broiled intensely, as the weather cleared and in the sky not a cloud could be seen. the horses were covered with sweat and nell began to complain of the heat. for this reason stas, having selected a suitable place, turned to the ravine in which the western wall cast a deep shadow. it was cool there, and the water remaining in the depressions after the downpour was also comparatively cool. over the little travelers' heads continually flew from one brink of the ravine to the other toucans with purple heads, blue breasts and yellow wings; so the boy began to tell nell what he knew from books about their habits. "do you know," he said, "there are certain toucans which during the breeding season seek hollows in trees; there the female lays eggs and sits upon them, while the male pastes the opening with clay so that only her head is visible, and not until the young are hatched does the male begin to peck with his long beak and free the mother." "and what does she eat during that time?" "the male feeds her. he continually flies about and brings her all kind of berries." "and does he permit her to sleep?" she asked in a sleepy voice. stas smiled. "if mrs. toucan has the same desire that you have at this moment, then he permits her." in fact, in the cold ravine an unconquerable drowsiness oppressed the little girl, as from morning until early in the afternoon she had rested but little. stas had a sincere desire to follow her example, but could not as he had to hold her, fearing that she might fall; besides, it was immensely uncomfortable for him to sit man-fashion on the flat and wide saddle which hatim and seki tamala had provided for the little one in fashoda. he did not dare to move and rode the horse as slowly as possible in order not to awaken her. she, in the meantime, leaning backwards, supported her little head upon his shoulder and slept soundly. but she breathed so regularly and calmly that stas ceased to regret the last quinine powder. he felt that danger of fever was removed and commenced to reason thus: "the ravine continually leads upwards and even now is quite steep. we are higher and the country is drier and drier. it is necessary only to find some sort of elevation, well shaded, near some swift stream, and there establish quarters and give the little one a few weeks' rest, and perhaps wait through the whole massica (the spring rainy season). not every girl could endure even one tenth of these hardships, but it is necessary that she should rest! after such a night another girl would have been stricken with fever and she--how soundly she sleeps!--thank god!" and these thoughts brought him into a good humor; so looking down at nell's little head resting on his bosom, he said to himself merrily and at the same time with certain surprise: "it is odd, however, how fond i am of this little fly! to tell the truth, i always liked her, but now more and more." and not knowing how to explain such a strange symptom he came to the following conclusion: "it is because we have passed together through so much and because she is under my protection." in the meantime he held that "fly" very carefully with his right hand around her waist in order that she should not slip from the saddle and bruise her little nose. they advanced slowly in silence; only kali hummed under his nose--a song in praise of stas. "great master kills gebhr, kills a lion and a buffalo! yah! yah! much meat! much meat! yah! yah!" "kali," stas asked in a low tone, "do the wahimas hunt lions?" "the wahimas fear lions but the wahimas dig pits and if in the night time the lion falls in, then the wahimas laugh." "what do you then do?" "the wahimas hurl lot of spears until lion is like a hedgehog. then they pull him out of the pit and eat him. lion is good." and according to his habit, he stroked his stomach. stas did not like this method of hunting; so he began to ask what other game there was in the wahima country and they conversed further about antelopes, ostriches, giraffes, and rhinoceroses until the roar of a waterfall reached them. "what is that?" stas exclaimed. "are there a river and waterfall ahead of us?" kali nodded his head in sign that obviously such was the fact. and for some time they rode more quickly, listening to the roar which each moment became more and more distinct. "a waterfall!" repeated stas, whose curiosity was aroused. but they had barely passed one or two bends when their way was barred by an impassable obstruction. nell, whom the motion of the horse had lulled to sleep, awoke at once. "are we already stopping for the night?" she asked. "no, but look! a rock closes the ravine." "then what shall we do?" "it is impossible to slip beside it for it is too close there; so it will be necessary that we turn back a little, get on top, and ride around the obstruction; but it is yet two hours to night; therefore we have plenty of time. let us rest the horses a little. do you hear the waterfall?" "i do." "we will stop near it for the night." after which he turned to kali, ordered him to climb to the brink of the ridge and see whether, beyond, the ravine was not filled with similar obstructions; he himself began to examine the rock carefully, and after a while he exclaimed: "it broke off and tumbled down not long ago. nell, do you see that fragment? look how fresh it is. there is no moss on it, nor vegetation. i already understand, i understand!" and with his hand he pointed at a baobab tree growing on the brink of the ravine whose huge roots hung over the wall and were parallel with the fragment. "that root grew in a crevice between the wall and the rock, and growing stronger, it finally split the rock. that is a singular matter for stone is harder than wood; i know, however, that in mountains this often happens. after that anything can shake such a stone which barely keeps its place, and the stone falls off." "but what could shake it?" "it is hard to say. maybe some former storm, perhaps yesterday's." at this moment saba, who previously had remained behind the caravan, came running up; he suddenly stood still as if pulled from behind by the tail, scented; afterwards squeezed into the narrow passage between the wall and the detached rock, but immediately began to retreat with bristling hair. stas dismounted from the horse to see what could have scared the dog. "stas, don't go there," nell begged; "a lion might be there." the boy, who was something of a swashbuckler and who from the previous day had taken extraordinary offense at lions, replied: "a great thing. a lion in daylight!" however, before he approached the passageway, kali's voice resounded from above: "bwana kubwa! bwana kubwa!" "what is it?" stas asked. the negro slid down the stalk of the climbing plant in the twinkling of an eye. from his face it was easy to perceive that he brought some important news. "an elephant!" he shouted. "an elephant?" "yes," answered the young negro, waving his hands; "there thundering water, here a rock. the elephant cannot get out. great master kill the elephant and kali will eat him. oh, eat, eat!" and at this thought he was possessed by such joy that he began to leap, slapping his knees with his palms and laughing as if insane, in addition rolling his eyes and displaying his white teeth. stas at first did not understand why kali said that the elephant could not get out of the ravine. so, desiring to see what had happened, he mounted his horse and entrusting nell to mea in order to have his hands free in an emergency, he ordered kali to sit behind him; after which they all turned back and began to seek a place by which they could reach the top. on the way stas questioned him how the elephant got into such a place and from kali's replies he ascertained more or less what had happened. the elephant evidently ran before the fire by way of the ravine during the burning of the jungle; on the way he forcibly bumped against a loosened rock, which tumbled down and cut off his retreat. after that, having reached the end of the hollow, he found himself on the edge of a precipice below which a river ran, and in this manner was imprisoned. after a while they discovered an outlet but so steep that it was necessary to dismount from the horses and lead them after. as the negro assured them that the river was very near they proceeded on foot. they finally reached a promontory, bounded on one side by a river, on the other by the hollow, and glancing downward they beheld on the bottom of a dell an elephant. the huge beast was lying on its stomach and to stas' great surprise did not start up at the sight of them. only when saba came running to the brink of the dell and began to bark furiously did he for a moment move his enormous ears and raise his trunk, but he dropped it at once. the children, holding hands, gazed long at him in silence, which finally was broken by kali. "he is dying of hunger," he exclaimed. the elephant was really so emaciated that his spine protruded, his sides were shrunken, his ribs were distinctly outlined notwithstanding the thickness of his hide, and it was easy to conjecture that he did not rise because he did not now have sufficient strength. the ravine, which was quite wide at its opening, changed into a dell, locked in on two sides by perpendicular rocks, and on its bottom a few trees grew. these trees were broken; their bark was peeled and on the branches there was not a leaf. the climbing plants hanging from the rocks were torn to pieces and gnawed, and the grass in the dell was cropped to the last blade. stas, examining the situation thoroughly, began to share his observations with nell, but being impressed with the inevitable death of the huge beast he spoke in a low tone as if he feared to disturb the last moments of its life. "yes, he really is dying of starvation. he certainly has been confined here at least two weeks, that is, from the time when the old jungle was burnt. he ate everything that there was to eat and now is enduring torments; particularly as, here above, bread-fruit trees and acacias with great pods are growing, and he sees them but cannot reach them." and for a while they again gazed in silence. the elephant from time to time turned towards them his small, languid eyes and something in the nature of a gurgle escaped from his throat. "indeed," the boy declared, "it is best to cut short his pangs." saying this, he raised the rifle to his face, but nell clutched his jacket and, braced upon both of her little feet, began to pull him with all her strength away from the brink of the hollow. "stas! don't do that! stas, let us give him something to eat! he is so wretched! i don't want you to kill him! i don't want it! i don't!" and stamping with her little feet, she did not cease pulling him, and he looked at her with great astonishment and, seeing her eyes filled with tears, said: "but, nell!--" "i don't want it. i won't let him be killed! i shall get the fever if you kill him." for stas this threat was sufficient to make him forego his murderous design in regard to the elephant before them and in regard to anything else in the world. for a time he was silent, not knowing what reply to make to the little one, after which he said: "very well! very well! i tell you it is all right! nell, let go of me!" and nell at once hugged him and through her tear-dimmed eyes a smile gleamed. now she was concerned only about giving the elephant something to eat as quickly as possible. kali and mea were greatly astonished when they learned that the bwana kubwa not only would not kill the elephant, but that they were to pluck at once as many melons from the bread-fruit trees, as many acacia pods, and as much of all kinds of weeds as they were able. gebhr's two-edged sudânese sword was of great use to kali at this labor, and were it not for that the work would not have proceeded so easily. nell, however, did not want to wait for its completion and when the first melon fell from the tree she seized it with both her hands and, carrying it to the ravine, she repeated rapidly as if from fear that some one else might want to supplant her: "i! i! i!" but stas did not in the least think of depriving her of this pleasure, but from fear that through too much zeal she might fall over with the melon, he seized her by the belt and shouted: "throw!" the huge fruit rolled over the steep declivity and fell close to the elephant's feet, while the latter in the twinkling of an eye stretched out his trunk and seized it; afterwards he bent his trunk as if he wanted to place the melon under his throat and this much the children saw of him. "he ate it!" exclaimed the happy girl. "i suppose so," answered stas, laughing. and the elephant stretched out his trunk towards them as if he wanted to beg for more and emitted in a powerful tone: "hruumf!" "he wants more!" "i suppose so!" repeated stas. the second melon followed in the track of the first and in the same manner afterwards disappeared in a moment a third, fourth, tenth; later acacia pods and whole bundles of grass and great leaves began to fly down. nell did not allow any one to take her place, and when her little hands grew tired from the work, she shoved new supplies with her little feet; while the elephant ate and, raising his trunk, from time to time trumpeted his thunderous "hruumf" as a sign that he wanted to eat still more, but nell claimed that it was a sign of gratitude. but kali and mea finally were fatigued with the work which they performed with great alacrity under the impression that bwana kubwa wanted first to fatten the elephant and afterwards to kill him. at last, however, bwana kubwa ordered them to stop, as the sun was setting and it was time to start the construction of the zareba. fortunately this was not a difficult matter, for two sides of the triangular promontory were utterly inaccessible, so that it was necessary only to fence in the third. acacias with big thorns also were not lacking. nell did not retire a step from the ravine and, squatting upon its brink, announced from a distance to stas what the elephant was doing. at frequent intervals her thin little voice resounded: "he is searching about with his trunk!" or: "he is moving his ears. what big ears he has!" "stas! stas! he is getting up! oh!" stas approached hurriedly and seized nell's hand. the elephant actually rose, and now the children could observe his immense size. they had previously seen huge elephants which were carried on vessels through the suez canal bound from india to europe, but not one of them could compare with this colossus, who actually looked like a huge slate-colored rock walking on four feet. he differed from the others in the size of his tusks which reached five or more feet and, as nell already observed, his ears, which were of fabulous proportions. his fore legs were high but comparatively thin, which was undoubtedly due to the fast of many days. "oh, that is a lilliputian!" laughed stas. "if he should rear himself and stretch out his trunk, he might catch you by the feet." but the colossus did not think of rearing or catching any one by the feet. with an unsteady gait he approached the egress of the ravine, gazed for a while over the precipice, at the bottom of which water was seething; afterwards he turned to the wall close to the waterfall, directed his trunk towards it, and, having immersed it as best he could, began to drink. "it is his good fortune," stas said, "that he can reach the water with his trunk. otherwise he would have died." the elephant drank so long that finally the little girl became alarmed. "stas, won't he harm himself?" she asked. "i don't know," he replied, laughing, "but since you have taken him under your care, warn him now." so nell leaned over the edge and cried: "enough, dear elephant, enough!" and the dear elephant, as if he understood what was the matter, stopped drinking at once, and instead, began to splash water over himself. first he splashed water on his feet, then on his back, and afterwards on both sides. but in the meantime it grew dark; so stas conducted the little girl to the zareba where supper already awaited them. both were in excellent humor--nell because she had saved the elephant's life and stas because he saw her eyes sparkling like two stars and her gladdened face which was ruddier and healthier than it had been at any time since their departure from khartûm. a promise of a quiet and perfect night also conduced to the boy's contentment. the two inaccessible sides of the promontory absolutely secured them from attacks from those directions, and on the third side kali and mea reared so high a wall of thorny branches of acacias and of passion flowers that there could be no thought of any predacious beasts being able to surmount such a barrier. in addition the weather was fine and the heavens immediately after sunset were studded with countless stars. the air, which was cool, owing to the proximity of the waterfall, and which was saturated with the odor of the jungle and newly broken branches, was agreeable to breathe. "this fly will not get the fever here," stas thought joyfully. afterwards they commenced to converse about the elephant, as nell was incapable of talking of anything else and did not cease going into transports over his stature, trunk, and tusks, which in reality were prodigious. finally she asked: "honestly, stas, isn't he wise?" "as solomon," answered stas. "but what makes you think so?" "because when i asked him not to drink any more, he obeyed me at once." "if before that time he had not taken any lessons in english and nevertheless understands it, that really is miraculous." nell perceived that stas was making merry with her, so she gave him a scolding; after which she said: "say what you wish, but i am sure that he is very intelligent and will become tame at once." "whether at once i don't know, but he may be tamed. the african elephants are indeed more savage than the asiatic; nevertheless, i think that hannibal, for instance, used african elephants." "and who was hannibal?" stas glanced at her indulgently and with pity. "really," he said, "at your age, you are not supposed to know such things. hannibal was a great carthaginian commander, who used elephants in his war with the romans, and as carthage was in africa, he must have used african--" further conversation was interrupted by the resounding roar of the elephant, who, having eaten and drunk his fill, began to trumpet; it could not be known whether from joy or from longing for complete freedom. saba started up and began to bark, while stas said: "there you have it! now he is calling companions. we will be in a nice predicament if he attracts a whole herd here." "he will tell them that we were kind to him," nell responded hastily. but stas, who indeed was not alarmed, as he reckoned that even if a herd should rush towards them, the glare of the fire would frighten them away, smiled spitefully and said: "very well! very well! but if the elephants appear, you won't cry, oh no! your eyes will only perspire as they did twice before." and he began to tease her: "i do not cry, only my eyes perspire--" nell, however, seeing his happy mien, conjectured that no immediate danger threatened them. "when he gets tame," she said, "my eyes will not perspire, though ten lions should roar." "why?" "for he will defend us." stas quieted saba, who would not stop replying to the elephant; after which he deliberated somewhat and spoke thus: "you did not think of one thing, nell. of course, we will not stay here for ages but will proceed farther; i do not say at once. on the contrary, the place is good and healthy; i have decided to stop here--a week, perhaps,--perhaps two, for you, and all of us as well, are entitled to a rest. well, very good! as long as we stay here we will feed the elephant, though that will be a big task for us all. but he is locked up and we cannot take him with us. well then, what later? we shall go and he will remain here and again will endure the pangs of hunger until he dies. then we shall be all the more sorry for him." nell saddened very much and for some time sat in silence, evidently not knowing what reply to make to these just remarks, but after a while she raised her head and, brushing aside the tufts of hair which fell over her eyes, turned her gaze, full of confidence, on the boy. "i know," she said, "that if you want to, you will get him out of the ravine." "i?" and she stretched out her little finger, touched stas' hand with it, and repeated: "you." the sly little woman understood that her confidence would flatter the boy and from that moment he would ponder on how to free the elephant. v the night passed quietly and though, on the southern side of the sky, big clouds gathered, the morning was beautiful. by stas' orders, kali and mea, immediately after breakfast, began to gather melons and acacia pods as well as fresh leaves and all kinds of fodder, which they deposited upon the brink of the ravine. as nell firmly insisted upon feeding her new friend herself, stas cut for her from a young bifurcated fig tree something in the shape of a pitchfork in order to make it easier for her to shove down the supplies to the bottom of the ravine. the elephant trumpeted from morn, evidently calling for his refreshments, and when afterwards he beheld on the brink that same little white being who had fed him the previous day, he greeted her with a joyful gurgle and at once stretched out his trunk towards her. in the morning light he appeared to the children still more prodigious than on the preceding day. he was lean but already looked brisker and turned his small eyes almost joyfully on nell. nell even claimed that his fore legs had grown thicker during the night, and began to shove fodder with such zeal that stas had to restrain her and in the end when she got out of breath too much, take her place at the work. both enjoyed themselves immensely; the elephant's "whims" amused them especially. in the beginning he ate everything which fell at his feet, but soon, having satisfied the first cravings of hunger, he began to grow fastidious. chancing upon a plant which was not to his taste, he beat it over his fore leg and afterwards tossed it upwards with his trunk, as if he wanted to say, "eat this dainty yourselves;" finally, after having appeased his hunger and thirst, he began to fan with his prodigious ears with evident contentment. "i am sure," said nell, "that if we went down to him he would not hurt us." and she began to call to him: "elephant, dear elephant, isn't it true you would not do any harm to us?" and when the elephant nodded his trunk in reply she turned to stas: "there, you see he says 'yes.'" "that may be," stas replied. "elephants are very intelligent animals and this one undoubtedly understands that we both are necessary to him. who knows whether he does not feel a little gratitude towards us? but it would be better not to try yet, and particularly not to let saba try, as the elephant surely would kill him. but with time they become even friendly." further transports over the elephant were interrupted by kali who, foreseeing that he should have to work every day to feed the gigantic beast, approached stas with an ingratiating smile and said: "great master, kill the elephant, and kali will eat him instead of gathering grass and branches." but the "great master" was now a hundred miles from a desire to kill the elephant and, as in addition he was impulsive, he retorted: "you are a donkey." unfortunately he forgot the kiswahili word for donkey and said it in english. kali, not understanding english, evidently took it for some kind of compliment or praise for himself, as a moment later the children heard how he, addressing mea, boastfully said: "mea has a dark skin and dark brain, but kali is a donkey." after which he added with pride: "the great master himself said that kali is a donkey." in the meantime stas, ordering both to tend the little lady as the eye in the head and in case of any accident to summon him at once, took the rifle and went to the detached rock which blocked the ravine. arriving at the place he inspected if attentively, examined all its cracks, inserted a stick into a crevice which he found near the bottom, and carefully measured its depths; afterwards he returned slowly to the camp and, opening the cartridge box, began to count the cartridges. he had barely counted three hundred when from a baobab tree growing about fifty paces from the tent mea's voice resounded. "master! master!" stas approached the giant tree, whose trunk, hollowed through decay near the ground, looked like a tower, and asked: "what do you want?" "not far away can be seen zebras, and further on antelopes are feeding." "good! i will take a rifle and go, for it is necessary to cure meat. but why did you climb the tree, and what are you doing there?" the girl answered in her sad, melodious voice: "mea saw a nest of gray parrots and wanted to bring a young one to the little lady, but the nest is empty, so mea will not get any beads for her neck." "you will get them because you love the little lady." the young negress came down the rugged bark as quickly as possible, and with eyes glistening with joy began to repeat: "oh! yes! yes! mea loves her very much--and beads also." stas gently stroked her head, after which he took the rifle, closed the cartridge box, and started in the direction in which the zebras were pastured. after a half hour the report of a shot reached the camp, and an hour later the young hunter returned with the good news that he had killed a young zebra and that the locality was full of game; that he saw from a height besides zebras, a numerous herd of ariel antelopes as well as a group of water-bucks pasturing in the vicinity of the river. afterwards he ordered kali to take a horse, and despatched him for the slaughtered game, while he himself began to inspect carefully the gigantic baobab trunk, walk around it, and knock the rugged bark with the barrel of his rifle. "what are you doing?" nell asked him. he replied: "look what a giant! fifteen men holding each other's hands could not encircle that tree, which perhaps remembers the times of the pharaohs. but the trunk at the bottom is decayed and hollow. do you see that opening? through it one can easily reach the middle. we can there arrange a room in which we all can live. this occurred to me when i saw mea among the branches, and afterwards when i stalked the zebra i was continually thinking of it." "why, we are to escape to abyssinia." "yes. nevertheless it is necessary to recuperate, and i told you yesterday that i had decided to remain here a week, or even two. you do not want to leave your elephant, and i fear for you during the rainy season, which has already commenced and during which fever is certain. to-day the weather is fine; you see, however, that the clouds are gathering thicker and thicker and who knows whether it will not pour before night? the tent will not protect you sufficiently and in the baobab tree if it is not rotten to the top, we can laugh at the greatest downpour. it will be also safer in it than in the tent for if in the evening we protect this opening with thorns and make a little window to afford us light, then as many lions as want to may roar and hover around. the spring rainy season does not last longer than a month and i am more and more inclined to think that it will be necessary to wait through it. and if so, it is better here than elsewhere, and better still in that gigantic tree than under the tent." nell always agreed to everything that stas wanted; so she agreed now; the more so, as the thought of remaining near the elephant and dwelling in a baobab tree pleased her immensely. she began now to think of how she would arrange the rooms, how she would furnish them, and how they would invite each other to "five o'clocks" and dinners. in the end they both were amused greatly and nell wanted at once to inspect her new dwelling, but stas, who with each day acquired more experience and prudence, restrained her from too sudden housekeeping. "before we live there," he said, "it is first necessary to bid the present tenants to move out, if any such are found there." saying this, he ordered mea to throw into the interior of the baobab tree a few lighted boughs, which smoked profusely because the branches were fresh. in fact, it appeared that he did well as the gigantic tree was occupied by housekeepers upon whose hospitality no reliance could be placed. vi there were two apertures in the tree, one large, about a half a yard from the ground; the other smaller, and about as high as the first story of a city residence. mea had scarcely thrown the lighted, smoking branches into the lower one when immediately out of the upper one big bats began to fly; squeaking and blinded by the luster of the sun, they flew aimlessly about the tree. but after a while from the lower opening there stole out, like lightning, a real tenant, in the person of a monstrous boa, who evidently, digesting the remnants of the last feast in a semi-somnolent state, had not become aroused and did not think of safety until the smoke curled in his nostrils. at the sight of the strong body, which, like a monstrous spring, darted out of the smoking interior of the tree, stas grabbed nell in his arms and began to run with her in the direction of the open jungle. but the reptile, itself terror-stricken, did not think of pursuing them; instead, winding in the grass and among the scattered packages, it slid away with unheard-of speed in the direction of the ravine, seeking to hide amid the rocky fissures and crannies. the children recovered their composure. stas placed nell on the ground and rushed for his rifle, and afterwards pursued the snake in the direction of the ravine, nell following him. but after going a score of paces such an extraordinary spectacle struck their eyes that they stood still as if thunderstruck. now high above the ravine appeared in the twinkling of an eye the body of the snake, and, describing a zigzag in the air, it fell again to the bottom. after a while it appeared a second time and again fell. the children, reaching the brink, saw with amazement that their new friend, the elephant, was amusing himself in this manner, for having first despatched the snake twice upon an aerial journey, at present he was crushing its head with his prodigious foot which resembled a log. having finished this operation, he again lifted the still quivering body with his trunk; this time, however, he did not toss it upwards, but directly into the waterfall. after this, nodding both ways and fanning himself with his ears, he began to gaze keenly at nell, and finally stretched out his trunk towards her as if claiming a reward for his heroic and, at the same time, sensible deed. nell ran at once to the tent and returning with a box full of wild figs, began to throw a few at a time to him, while he searched for them in the grass and placed one after another in his mouth. those which fell in deeper crevices, he blew out with such force that, with the figs, stones the size of a man's fist flew up. the children received this exhibition with applause and laughter. nell went back several times for new supplies, not ceasing to contend with each fig that the elephant was entirely tamed and that they could even at that moment go down to him. "you see, stas; we now shall have a defender. for he is afraid of nobody in the desert--neither lion, nor snake, nor crocodile. and he is very good and surely loves us." "if he is tamed," said stas, "and if i can leave you under his care, then really i can go hunting in perfect peace, for a better defender for you i could not find in all africa." after a while he added: "the elephants of this place are wild, but i have read that asiatic elephants, for instance, have a strange weakness for children. it has never occurred in india that an elephant has harmed a child, and if one falls in a rage, as sometimes happens, the native keepers send children to pacify him." "ah, you see! you see!" "in any case you did well in not allowing me to kill him." at this nell's pupils flashed with joy like two little greenish flames. standing on tiptoe, she placed both her hands on stas' shoulders and, tilting her head backward, asked, gazing into his eyes: "i acted as if i had how many years? tell me! as if i had how many years?" and he replied: "at least seventy." "you are always joking." "get angry, get angry, but who will free the elephant?" hearing this, nell began at once to fawn like a little kitten. "you--and i shall love you very much and he will also." "i am thinking of that," stas said, "but it will be hard work and i shall not do it at once, but only when we are ready to start upon a farther journey." "why?" "because if we should free him before he is entirely tame and becomes attached to us, he would go away at once." "oh! he won't go away from me." "you think that he already is like me," retorted stas with impatience. further conversation was checked by the arrival of kali, who brought with him the slain zebra and its colt, which had been partly devoured by saba. it was the good fortune of the mastiff that he rushed after kali, and was not present at the encounter with the python for he would have chased after him and, overtaking him, would have perished in his murderous coils before stas could come to his aid. for eating the zebra he received, however, from nell a tongue-lashing which after all he did not take too much to heart as he did not even hide his lolling tongue, with which he came running in from the hunt. stas announced in the meantime to kali that he intended to arrange a dwelling in the interior of the tree and related to him what had occurred during the smoking out of the trunk, as well as how the elephant had handled the snake. the idea of living in the baobab tree, which would afford a protection not only against the rain but also against the wild animals, pleased the negro very much; but on the other hand the conduct of the elephant did not meet his approval. "the elephant is foolish," he said, "so he threw the nioka (snake) into the thundering water, but kali knows that nioka is good; so he will search for it in the thundering waters, and bake it as kali is wise--and is a donkey." "it is agreed that you are a donkey," stas answered, "but of course you will not eat the snake." "nioka is good," repeated kali. and pointing at the slain zebra, he added: "better than that niama." after which both went into the baobab tree and occupied themselves in arranging the dwelling. kali, having found on the river-side a flat stone the size of a sieve, placed it in the trunk, heaped burning coals upon it, and afterwards continually added more fuel, watching only that the decayed wood on the inside did not ignite and cause the conflagration of the whole tree. he said that he did this in order that "nothing should bite the great master and the bibi." in fact it appeared that this was not a useless precaution, for as soon as smoke filled the interior of the tree and spread even on the outside there began to creep out of the cracks in the bark a great variety of creatures; scarabees, black and cherry-colored, shaggy spiders big as plums, caterpillars of the thickness of a finger, covered as though with thorns, and loathsome and at the same time venomous scolopendras whose bite may even cause death. in view of what was occurring on the outside of the trunk it was easy to surmise how many similar creatures must have perished from the fumes of the smoke on the inside. those which fell from the bark and lower branches upon the grass were crushed unmercifully with a stone by kali, who was continually gazing at the upper and lower openings as if he feared that at any moment something strange might appear in either of them. "why are you looking so?" stas asked. "do you think that another snake is hiding in the tree?" "no, kali fears mzimu!" "what is a mzimu?" "an evil spirit." "did you ever in your life see a mzimu?" "no, but kali has heard the horrible noise which mzimu makes in the huts of fetish-men." "nevertheless your fetish-men do not fear him." "the fetish-men know how to exorcise him, and afterwards go to the huts and say that mzimu is angry; so the negroes bring them bananas, honey, pombe (beer made of sorghum plant), eggs, and meat in order to propitiate the mzimu." stas shrugged his shoulders. "i see that it is a good thing to be a fetish-man among your people. perhaps that snake was mzimu?" kali shook his head. "in such case the elephant could not kill the mzimu, but the mzimu would kill the elephant. mzimu is death." some kind of strange crash and rumble within the tree suddenly interrupted his reply. from the lower aperture there burst out a strange ruddy dust, after which there resounded a second crash, louder than the former one. kali threw himself in the twinkling of an eye upon his face and began to cry shrilly: "aka! mzimu! aka! aka! aka!" stas at first stepped back, but soon recovered his composure, and when nell with mea came running up he began to explain what might have happened. "in all probability," he said, "a whole mass of decayed wood in the interior of the trunk, expanding from the heat, finally tumbled down and buried the burning wood. and he thinks that it was mzimu. let mea, however, pour water a few times through the opening; if the live embers are not extinct for want of air and the decayed wood is kindled, the tree might be consumed by fire." after which, seeing that kali continued lying down and did not cease repeating with terror, "aka! aka!" he took the rifle with which he usually shot at guinea-fowl and, firing into the opening, said, shoving the boy with the barrel: "your mzimu is killed. do not fear." and kali raised his body, but remained on his knees. "oh, great master! great! you do not even fear mzimu!" "aka! aka!" exclaimed stas, mimicking the negro. and he began to laugh. the negro became calm after a time and when he sat down to partake of the food prepared by mea, it appeared that the temporary fright had not at all deprived him of his appetite, for besides a portion of smoked meat he consumed the raw liver of the zebra colt, not counting the wild figs, which a sycamore growing in the neighborhood furnished in great abundance. afterwards with stas they returned to the tree, about which there was yet a good deal of work to do. the removal of the decayed wood and the ashes, with hundreds of broiled scarabees and centipedes, together with a score of baked bats occupied over two hours' time. stas was also surprised that the bats could live in the immediate neighborhood of the snake. he surmised, however, that the gigantic python either despised such trifling game or, not being able to wind himself around anything in the interior of the trunk, could not reach them. the glowing coals, having caused the fall of layers of decayed wood, cleaned out the interior splendidly, and its appearance delighted stas, for it was as wide as a large room and could have given shelter not merely to four persons, but to ten men. the lower opening formed a doorway and the upper a window, thanks to which in the huge trunk it was neither dark nor stifling. stas thought of dividing the whole, by means of the tent canvas, into two rooms, of which one was to be assigned to nell and mea and the other to himself, kali, and saba. the tree was not decayed to the top of the trunk; the rain, therefore, could not leak to the center, but in order to be protected completely, it was sufficient to raise and prop bark above both openings in such manner that it should form two eaves. the bottom of the interior he determined to strew with sand from the river bank which had been grilled by the sun, and to carpet its surface with dry moss. the work was really hard, especially for kali, for he had, in addition, to cure the meat, water the horses, and think of fodder for the elephant who was incessantly trumpeting for it. but the young negro proceeded to work about the new abode with great willingness and even ardor; the reason for this he explained the same day to stas in the following manner: "when the great master and the 'bibi,'" he said, holding his arms akimbo, "live in the tree, kali will not have to build big zarebas for the night and he can be idle every night." "then you like to be idle?" stas asked. "kali is a man, so kali loves to be idle, as only women ought to work." "but you see, however, that i work for the 'bibi.'" "but because when the 'bibi' grows up she will have to work for the great master, and, if she does not want to, the great master will whip her." but stas, at the very thought of whipping the "bibi," jumped as if scalded and shouted in anger: "fool, do you know who the 'bibi' is?" "i do not," replied the black boy with fear. "bibi--is--is--a good mzimu." and kali cowered. after finishing his work he approached nell bashfully; then he fell on his face and began to repeat, not indeed in a terror-stricken, but in an entreating voice: "aka! aka! aka!" and the "good mzimu" stared at him, with her beautiful, sea-green eyes wide open, not understanding what had happened nor what was the matter with kali. vii the new abode, which stas named "cracow," was completed in the course of three days. but before that time the principal luggage was deposited in the "men's quarters" and during great downpours the young quartette staid in the gigantic trunk, perfectly sheltered. the rainy season began in earnest but it was not one of our long autumn rains during which the heavens are heavy with dark clouds and the tedious, vexatious bad weather lasts for weeks. there, about a dozen times during the day, the wind drives over the sky the swollen clouds, which water the earth copiously, after which the sun shines brightly, as if freshly bathed, and floods with a golden luster the rocks, the river, the trees, and the entire jungle. the grass grew almost before their eyes. the trees were clad with more abundant leaves, and, before the old fruit fell, buds of the new germinated. the air, owing to the tiny drops of water suspended in it, grew so transparent that even distant objects became entirely distinct and the view extended into the immeasurably far expanse. on the sky hung charming, seven-colored rainbows and the waterfall was almost continually attired with them. the brief dawn and twilight played with thousands of lights of such brilliance that the children had not seen anything like it, even on the libyan desert. the lower clouds, those nearest the earth, were dyed cherry-colored, the upper, better illuminated, overflowed in the shape of a lake of purple and gold, and the tiny woolly cloudlets changed colors like rubies, amethysts, and opals. during the night time, between one downpour of rain and another, the moon transformed into diamonds the drops of dew which clung on the mimosa and acacia leaves, and the zodiacal light shone in the refreshed transparent air more brightly than at any other season of the year. from the overflow which the river formed below the waterfall came the uneasy croaking of frogs and the doleful piping of toads, and fireflies, resembling shooting stars, flew from bank to bank amid the clumps of bamboo and arum. but when clouds covered the starry heaven and the rain began to fall it became very dusky and the interior of the baobab tree was as dark as in a cellar. desiring to avoid this, stas ordered mea to melt the fat of the killed game and make a lamp of a small plate, which he placed beneath the upper opening, which was called a window by the children. the light from this window, visible from a distance in the darkness, drove away the wild animals, but on the other hand attracted bats and even birds so much that kali finally was compelled to construct in the opening something in the nature of a screen of thorns similar to the one with which he closed the lower opening for the night. however, in daytime, during fair weather, the children left "cracow" and strolled over the promontory. stas started after antelope-ariels and ostriches, of which numerous flocks appeared near the river below, while nell went to her elephant, who in the beginning trumpeted only for food and later trumpeted when he felt lonesome without his little friend. he always greeted her with sheer delight and pricked his enormous ears as soon as he heard from the distance her voice or her footsteps. once, when stas went hunting and kali angled for fish beyond the waterfall, nell decided to go to the rock which closed the ravine, to see whether stas had done anything about its removal. mea, occupied with preparations for dinner, did not observe her departure; while on the way, the little maid, gathering flowers, particularly begonia which grew abundantly in the rocky clefts, approached the declivity by which they at one time left the ravine and descending found herself near the rock. the great stone, detached from its native walls, obstructed the ravine as it had previously done. nell, however, noticed that between the rock and the wall there was a passage so wide that even a grown-up person could pass through it with ease. for a while she hesitated, then she went in and found herself on the other side. but there was a bend there, which it was necessary to pass in order to reach the wide egress of the locked-in waterfall. nell began to meditate. "i will go yet a little farther. i will peer from behind the rocks; i will take just one look at the elephant who will not see me at all, and i will return." thus meditating, she advanced step by step farther and farther, until finally she reached a place where the ravine widened suddenly into a small dell and she saw the elephant. he stood with his back turned towards her, with trunk immersed in the waterfall, and drank. this emboldened her, so pressing closely to the wall, she advanced a few steps, and a few more yet, and then the huge beast, desiring to splash his sides, turned his head, saw the little maid, and, beholding her, moved at once towards her. nell became very much frightened, but as there was no time now for retreat, pressing knee to knee, she curtsied to the elephant as best she could; after which she stretched out her little hand with the begonias and spoke in a slightly quivering voice. "good day, dear elephant. i know you won't harm me; so i came to say good day--and i have only these flowers--" and the colossus approached, stretched out his trunk, and picked the bunch of begonias out of nell's little fingers, and putting them into his mouth he dropped them at once as evidently neither the rough leaves nor the flowers were to his taste. nell now saw above her the trunk like a huge black snake which stretched and bent; it touched one of her little hands and then the other; afterwards both shoulders and finally descending it began to swing gently to and fro. "i knew that you would not harm me," the little girl repeated, though fear did not leave her. meanwhile the elephant drew back his fabulous ears, winding and unwinding alternately his trunk and gurgling joyfully as he always gurgled when the little girl approached the brink of the ravine. and as at one time stas and the lion, so now these two stood opposite each other--he, an enormity, resembling a house or a rock, and she a mite whom he could crush with one motion, not indeed in rage but through inadvertence. but the good and prudent animal did not make angry or inadvertent motions, but evidently was pleased and happy at the arrival of the little guest. nell gained courage gradually and finally raised her eyes upwards and, looking as though onto a high roof she asked timidly, raising her little hand: "may i stroke your trunk?" the elephant did not, indeed, understand english, but from the motion of her hand discerned at once what she wanted and shoved under her palm the end of his trunk, which was over two yards in length. nell began to stroke the trunk; at first carefully with one hand, afterwards with both, and finally embraced it with both arms and hugged it with perfectly childish trust. the elephant stepped from one foot to the other and continually gurgled from joy. after a while he wound the diminutive body of the girl with his trunk and, lifting her up, began to swing her lightly right and left. "more! more!" cried nell, intensely amused. and the play lasted quite a long time and afterwards the little girl, now entirely bold, invented a new one. finding herself on the ground, she tried to climb on the elephant's fore legs, as on a tree, or, hiding behind them, she asked whether he could find her. but at these frolics she observed one thing, namely, that numerous thorns were stuck in his hind legs; from these the powerful beast could not free himself, first because he could not conveniently reach his hind legs with his trunk, and again because he evidently feared to wound the finger with which the trunk ended and without which he would lose his skill and cleverness. nell was not at all aware that such thorns in the feet are a real plague to elephants in india and still more in the african jungles composed mainly of thorny plants. as, however, she felt sorry for the honest giant, without any thought, having squatted near his foot, she began to extract delicately at first the bigger splinters and afterwards the smaller, at which work she did not cease to babble and assure the elephant that she would not leave a single one. he understood excellently what she was concerned with, and bending his legs at the knee showed in this manner that on the soles between the hoofs covering his toes there were also thorns which caused him still greater pain. in the meantime stas came from the hunt and at once asked mea where the little lady was. receiving a reply that she undoubtedly was in the tree, he was about to enter the interior of the baobab tree when at that moment it seemed to him that he heard nell's voice in the depth of the ravine. not believing his own ears, he rushed at once to the edge and, glancing down, was astounded. the little girl sat near the foot of the colossus which stood so quietly that if he did not move the trunk and ears, one would think that he was hewed out of stone. "nell!" stas shouted. and she, engaged with her work, answered merrily: "at once! at once!" to this the boy, who was not accustomed to hesitate in the presence of danger, lifted his rifle with one hand in the air and with the other grabbed a dry liana stalk, which was stripped of its bark, and, winding his legs about it, slid to the bottom of the ravine. the elephant moved his ears uneasily, but at that moment nell rose and, hugging his trunk, cried hurriedly: "don't be afraid, elephant! that is stas." stas perceived at once that she was in no danger, but his legs yet trembled under him, his heart palpitated violently, and before he recovered from the sensation, he began to speak in a choking voice, full of grief and anger: "nell! nell! how could you do this?" and she began to explain that she did not do anything wrong, for the elephant was good and was already entirely tamed; that she wanted to take only one look at him and return, but he stopped her and began to play with her, that he swung her very carefully, and if stas wanted he would swing him also. saying this, she took hold of the end of the trunk with one hand and drew it to stas, while she waved the other hand right and left, saying at the same time to the elephant: "elephant! swing stas also." the wise animal surmised from her gesture what she wanted of him, and stas, caught by the belt of his trousers, in one moment found himself in mid-air. in this there was such a strange and amusing contrast between his still angry mien and this rocking above the earth that the little "mzimu" began to laugh until the tears came, clapping all the time her hands and shouting as before: "more! more!" and as it is impossible to preserve an appropriate dignity and deliver a lecture on deportment at a time when one is suspended from the end of an elephant's trunk and involuntarily goes through the motions of a pendulum, the boy in the end began to laugh also. but after a certain time, noticing that the motions of the trunk were slackening and the elephant intended to deposit him on the ground, a new idea unexpectedly occurred to him, and, taking advantage of the moment at which he found himself close to the prodigious ear, he grabbed it with both hands and in the twinkling of an eye climbed over it onto the head and sat on the elephant's neck. "aha!" he exclaimed from above to nell; "let him understand that he must obey me." and he began to stroke the elephant's head with his palm with the mien of a ruler and master. "good!" cried nell from below, "but how will you get down now?" "that is small trouble," stas answered. and slinging his legs over the elephant's forehead, he entwined the trunk with them and slid over it as if down a tree. "that is how i come down." after which both began to pick out the rest of the thorns from the legs of the elephant who submitted with the greatest patience. in the meantime the first drops of rain fell; so stas decided to escort nell to "cracow"; but here an unexpected obstacle presented itself. the elephant did not want to part from her and every time she attempted to go away he turned her about with his trunk and drew her towards him. the situation became disagreeable, and the merry play in view of the stubbornness of the elephant might have ended unfortunately. the boy did not know what to do as the rain became each moment heavier and a downpour threatened them. both withdrew, indeed, somewhat towards the egress, but gradually, and the elephant followed them. finally stas stood between him and nell. he fixed his gaze upon the elephant's eyes and at the same time said to nell in an undertone: "don't run, but continually draw back to the narrow passageway." "and you, stas?" the little maid asked. "draw back!" repeated stas with emphasis, "otherwise i shall have to shoot the elephant." the little maid, under the influence of this threat, obeyed the command; the more so as, having already unbounded confidence in the elephant, she was sure that under no circumstances would he do any harm to stas. but the boy stood about four paces from the giant, not removing his eyes from him for a moment. in this manner a few minutes passed; a moment full of danger followed. the ears of the elephant moved a score of times, his little eyes glittered strangely, and suddenly his trunk was raised. stas felt that he was turning pale. "death!" he thought. but the colossus turned his trunk unexpectedly toward the brink where he was accustomed to see nell and began to trumpet more mournfully than he had ever done before. stas went peacefully to the passageway and behind the rock found nell, who did not want to return to the tree without him. the boy had an uncontrollable desire to say to her: "see what you have done! on account of you i might have been killed." but there was no time for reproof as the rain changed into a downpour and it was necessary to return as quickly as possible. nell was drenched to the skin though stas wrapped her in his clothing. in the interior of the tree he ordered the negress to change nell's dress while he himself unleashed saba, whom previously he had tied from fear that in following his tracks he might scare away the game; afterwards he began to ransack all the clothing and luggage in the hope that he might find some overlooked pinch of quinine. but he did not find anything. only at the bottom of the small gallipot which the missionary had given him in khartûm there lay a little white powder which would scarcely suffice for whitening the tip of a finger. he nevertheless determined to fill the gallipot with hot water and give this gargle to nell to drink. then when the downpour had passed away and the sun began to shine again, he left the tree to look at the fish which kali had brought. the negro had caught about twenty upon a line of thin wire. most of them were small, but there were three about a foot long, silver speckled and surprisingly light. mea, who was bred upon the banks of the blue nile, was conversant with these fishes; she said that they were good to eat and towards evening they leap very high above the water. in fact, at the scaling and cleaning of the first it appeared that they were so light because they had big air bladders. stas took one of them about the size of an apple and brought it to show to nell. "look!" he said. "this was in the fish. we could make a pane for our window from about a dozen of these." and he pointed at the upper opening in the tree. but reflecting for a time he added: "and even something more." "what is it?" asked nell. "a kite." "such as you used to send up in port said? oh good! do." "i will. with thin, cut pieces of bamboo i will make a frame and i will use these membranes instead of paper for they are lighter and the rain will not soak them. such a kite will go away up in the air and with a powerful wind will fly the lord knows where--" here he suddenly struck his forehead. "i have an idea." "what is it?" "you shall see. as soon as i figure it out better, i will tell you. now that elephant of yours is making such a racket that one cannot even talk." indeed, the elephant, from longing for nell, and perhaps for both children, trumpeted so that the whole ravine shook, together with the adjacent trees. "we must show ourselves to him," nell said. "that will quiet him." and they strolled to the ravine. but stas, entirely absorbed in his thoughts, began in an undertone to say: "'nelly rawlinson and stanislas tarkowski of port said, having escaped from the dervishes in fashoda, are at--'" and stopping abruptly, he asked: "how to designate the place?" "what, stas?" "nothing, nothing. i already know,--'are about a month's journey west of the blue nile and beg for immediate aid.' when the wind blows to the north or to the west i will send twenty, fifty, a hundred of such kites and you, nell, shall help me to paste them." "kites?" "yes, and i tell you that they can be of greater service to us than ten elephants." in the meantime they reached the brink. and now began the shuffling of the elephant's feet, the nodding, the movements of the ears, the gurgling, and again the mournful trumpeting when nell attempted to retire even for a moment. in the end the little maid began to explain to the "dear elephant" that she could not be with him all the time, for, of course, she had to sleep, eat, work, and keep house in "cracow." but he became quiet only when she shoved down to him with a pitchfork provisions prepared by kali; at night he again began to trumpet. the children that same evening named him "the king," as nell was sure that before he got caught in the ravine he undoubtedly was the king of all the elephants in africa. viii during the few days following nell passed all the moments during which the rain did not fall with the king, who did not oppose her departure, having understood that the little maiden would return a few times daily. kali, who as a rule feared elephants, gazed at this one with amazement but in the end came to the conclusion that the mighty, "good mzimu" had bewitched the giant, so he began to visit him also. the king was well disposed in his behavior towards kali as well as towards mea, but nell alone could do with him whatever she pleased, so that after a week she ventured even to bring saba to him. for stas this was a great relief as he could with perfect peace leave nell under the protection, or, as he expressed it, "under the trunk of the elephant," and without any fear he went hunting and even at times took kali with him. he was certain now that the noble animal would not desert them under any circumstances and began to consider how to free him from his confinement. and to speak properly, he long ago had discovered a way, but it required such sacrifices that he wrestled with his thoughts as to whether he would use it and afterwards postponed doing it from day to day. as he had no one to speak to about this, he finally decided to acquaint nell with his intentions, though he regarded her as a mere child. "the rock can be blasted with powder, but for that it is necessary to spoil a great number of cartridges; that is, to extract the bullets, pour out the powder, and make one big charge out of it all. such a charge i will insert in the deepest fissure which i can find in the middle; afterwards i will plug it and light a fire. then the rock will burst into a few or even a score of pieces and we can lead the king out." "but if there is a great explosion, will he not get scared?" "let him get scared," answered stas quickly. "that bothers me the least. really, it is not worth while to talk to you seriously." nevertheless he continued, or rather thought aloud: "but if i do not use enough cartridges the rock will not burst and i shall waste them in vain; if i use a sufficient number, then not many will remain. and if i should be in want of them before the end of the journey, death clearly threatens us. for with what will i hunt, with what will i defend you in case of an attack? you well know, of course, that if it were not for this rifle and the cartridges we would have perished long ago, either at gebhr's hands or from starvation. and it is very fortunate too that we have horses for without them we could not have carried all these things and the cartridges." at this nell raised her finger and declared with great positiveness: "when i tell the king, he will carry everything." "how will he carry the cartridges, if very few of them remain?" "as to that, he will defend us." "but he won't fire from his trunk as i do from the rifle." "then we can eat figs and big gourds which grow on the trees, and kali will catch fish." "that is, as long as we stay near the river. we still have to pass the rainy season here, as these continual downpours would surely prostrate you with the fever. remember, however, that later we shall start upon a further journey and we might chance upon a desert." "such as sahara?" nell asked in alarm. "no; one where there are neither rivers, nor fruit-trees, and only low acacias and mimosas grow. there one can live only upon what is secured by hunting. the king will find grass there and i antelopes, but if i do not have anything to shoot them with, then the king will not catch them." and stas, in reality, had something to worry about, as by that time, when the elephant was already tamed and had become friendly it was impossible to abandon him and doom him to death by starvation; and to liberate him meant the loss of a greater portion of the ammunition and exposing themselves to unavoidable destruction. so stas postponed the work from day to day, repeating to himself in his soul each evening: "perhaps to-morrow i may devise some other scheme". in the meantime to this trouble others were added. at first kali was stung at the river below by wild bees to which he was led by a small gray-greenish bird, well-known in africa and called bee-guide. the black boy, through indolence, did not smoke out the bees sufficiently and returned with honey, but so badly stung and swollen that an hour later he lost all consciousness. the "good mzimu," with mea's aid, extracted stings from him until night and afterwards plastered him with earth upon which stas poured water. nevertheless, towards morning it seemed as if the poor negro were dying. fortunately, the nursing and his strong constitution overcame the danger; he did not, however, recover his health until the lapse of ten days. the second mishap was met by the horses. stas, who during kali's sickness had to fetter the horses and lead them to water, observed that they began to grow terribly lean. this could not be explained by a lack of fodder as in consequence of the rains grass shot up high and there was excellent pasturage near the ford. and yet the horses wasted away. after a few days their hair bristled, their eyes became languid, and from their nostrils a thick slime flowed. in the end they ceased to eat and instead drank eagerly, as if fever consumed them. when kali regained his health they were merely two skeletons. but he only glanced at them and understood at once what had happened. "tsetse!" he said, addressing stas. "they must die." stas also understood, for while in port said he had often heard of the african fly, called "tsetse," which is such a terrible plague in some regions that wherever it has its permanent habitat the negroes do not possess any cattle at all, and wherever, as a result of temporary favorable conditions it multiplies unexpectedly, cattle perish. a horse, ox, or donkey bitten by a tsetse wastes and dies in the course of a fortnight or even in a few days. the local animals understand the danger which threatens them, for it happens that whole herds of oxen, when they hear its hum near a waterfall, are thrown into a wild stampede and scamper in all directions. stas' horses were bitten; these horses and the donkey kali now rubbed daily with some kind of plant, the odor of which resembled that of onions and which he found in the jungles. he said that the odor would drive away the tsetse, but notwithstanding this preventative remedy the horses grew thinner. stas, with dread, thought of what might happen if all the animals should succumb; how then could he convey nell, the saddle-cloth, the tent, the cartridges and the utensils? there was so much of them that only the king could carry them all. but to liberate the king it was necessary to sacrifice at least two-thirds of the cartridges. ever-increasing troubles gathered over stas' head like the clouds which did not cease to water the jungle with rain. finally came the greatest calamity, in the presence of which all the others dwindled--fever! ix one night at supper nell, having raised a piece of smoked meat to her lips, suddenly pushed it away, as if with loathing, and said: "i cannot eat to-day." stas, who had learned from kali where the bees were and had smoked them out daily in order to get their honey, was certain that the little one had eaten during the day too much honey, and for that reason he did not pay any attention to her lack of appetite. but she after a while rose and began to walk hurriedly about the camp-fire describing an ever larger circle. "do not get away too far, for something might seize you," the boy shouted at her. he really, however, did not fear anything, for the elephant's presence, which the wild animals scented, and his trumpeting, which reached their vigilant ears, held them at a respectable distance. it assured safety alike to the people and to the horses, for the most ferocious beasts of prey in the jungle, the lion, the panther, and the leopard, prefer to have nothing to do with an elephant and not to approach too near his tusks and trunk. nevertheless, when the little maid continued to run around, more and more hurriedly, stas followed her and asked: "say, little moth! why are you flying like that about the fire?" he asked still jestingly, but really was uneasy and his uneasiness increased when nell answered: "i don't know. i can't sit down in any place." "what is the matter with you?" "i feel so strangely--" and then suddenly she rested her head on his bosom and as though confessing a fault, exclaimed in a meek voice, broken by sobs: "stas, perhaps i am sick--" "nell!" then he placed his palm upon her forehead which was dry and icy. so he took her in his arms and carried her to the camp-fire. "are you cold?" he asked on the way. "cold and hot, but more cold--" in fact her little teeth chattered and chills continually shook her body. stas now did not have the slightest doubt that she had a fever. he at once ordered mea to conduct her to the tree, undress her and place her on the ground, and afterwards to cover her with whatever she could find, for he had seen in khartûm and fashoda that fever-stricken people were covered with sheeps' hide in order to perspire freely. he determined to sit at nell's side the whole night and give her hot water with honey to drink. but she in the beginning did not want to drink. by the light of the little lamp hung in the interior of the tree he observed her glittering eyes. after a while she began to complain of the heat and at the same time shook under the saddle-cloth and plaids. her hands and forehead continued cold, but had stas known anything about febrile disorders, he would have seen by her extraordinary restlessness that she must have a terrible fever. with fear he observed that when mea entered with hot water the little girl gazed at her as though with a certain amazement and even fear and did not seem to recognize her. with him she spoke consciously. she said to him that she could not lie down and begged him to permit her to rise and run about; then again she asked whether he was not angry at her because she was sick, and when he assured her that he was not, her eyelashes were suffused with the tears which surged to her eyes, and she assured him that on the morrow she would be entirely well. that evening, or that night, the elephant was somehow strangely disturbed and continually trumpeted so as to awake saba and cause him to bark. stas observed that this irritated the patient; so he left the tree to quiet them. he silenced saba easily, but as it was a harder matter to bid the elephant to be silent, he took with him a few melons to throw to him, and stuff his trunk at least for a time. returning, he observed, by the light of the camp-fire, kali who, with a piece of smoked meat on his shoulders, was going in the direction of the river. "what are you doing there, and where are you going?" he asked the negro. and the black boy stopped, and when stas drew near to him said with a mysterious countenance: "kali is going to another tree to place meat for the wicked mzimu." "why?" "that the wicked mzimu should not kill the 'good mzimu.'" stas wanted to say something in reply, but suddenly grief seized his bosom; so he only set his teeth and walked away in silence. when he returned to the tree nell's eyes were closed, her hands, lying on the saddle-cloth, quivered indeed strongly, but it seemed that she was slumbering. stas sat down near her, and from fear of waking her he sat motionless. mea, sitting on the other side, readjusted every little while pieces of ivory protruding out of her ears, in order to defend herself in this manner from drowsiness. it became still; only from the river below, from the direction of the overflow, came the croaking of frogs and the melancholy piping of toads. suddenly nell sat up on the bedding. "stas!" "i am here, nell." and she, shaking like a leaf in the breeze, began to seek his hands and repeat hurriedly: "i am afraid! i am afraid! give me your hand!" "don't fear. i am with you." and he grasped her palm which this time was heated as if on fire; not knowing what to do he began to cover that poor, emaciated hand with kisses. "don't be afraid, nell! don't be afraid!" after which he gave her water with honey to drink, which by that time had cooled. this time nell drank eagerly and clung to the hand with the utensil when he tried to take it away from her lips. the cool drink seemed to soothe her. silence ensued. but after the lapse of half an hour nell again sat up on the bedding and in her wide-open eyes could be seen terrible fright. "stas!" "what is it, dear?" "why," she asked in a broken voice, "do gebhr and chamis walk around the tree and peer at me?" to stas in an instant it seemed as if thousands of ants were crawling over him. "what are you saying, nell?" he said. "there is nobody here. that is kali walking around the tree." but she, staring at the dark opening, cried with chattering teeth: "and the bedouins too! why did you kill them?" stas clasped her with his arms and pressed her to his bosom. "you know why! don't look there! don't think of that! that happened long ago!" "to-day! to-day!" "no, nell, long ago." in fact it was long ago, but it had returned like a wave beaten back from the shore and again filled with terror the thoughts of the sick child. all words of reassurance appeared in vain. nell's eyes widened more and more. her heart palpitated so violently that it seemed that it would burst at any moment. she began to throw herself about like a fish taken out of the water, and this continued almost until morning. only towards the morning was her strength exhausted and her head dropped upon the bedding. "i am weak, weak," she repeated. "stas, i am flying somewhere down below." after which she closed her eyes. stas at first became terribly alarmed for he thought that she had died. but this was only the end of the first paroxysm of the dreadful african fever, termed deadly, two attacks of which strong and healthy people can resist, but the third no one thus far had been able to withstand. travelers had often related this in port said in mr. rawlinson's home, and yet more frequently catholic missionaries returning to europe, whom pan tarkowski received hospitably. the second attack comes after a few days or a fortnight, while if the third does not come within two weeks it is not fatal as it is reckoned as the first in the recurrence of the sickness. stas knew that the only medicine which could break or keep off the attack was quinine in big doses, but now he did not have an atom of it. for the time being, however, seeing that nell was breathing, he became somewhat calm and began to pray for her. but in the meantime the sun leaped from beyond the rocks of the ravine and it was day. the elephant already demanded his breakfast and from the direction of the overflow which the river made resounded the cries of aquatic birds. desiring to kill a brace of guinea-fowl for broth for nell, the boy took his gun and strolled along the river towards a clump of shrubs on which these birds usually perched for the night. but he felt the effect of lack of sleep so much and his thoughts were so occupied with the little girl's illness that a whole flock of guinea-fowl passed close by him in a trot, one after another, bound for the watering place, and he did not observe them at all. this happened also because he was continually praying. he thought of the slaying of gebhr, chamis, and the bedouins, and lifting his eyes upwards he said with a voice choking with tears: "i did this for nell, oh lord, for nell! for i could not free her otherwise; but if it is a sin, punish me, but let her regain her health." on the way he met kali, who had gone to see whether the wicked mzimu ate the meat offered to him the previous night. the young negro, loving the little "bibi," prayed also for her, but he prayed in an entirely different fashion. he particularly told the wicked mzimu that if the "bibi" recovered her health he would bring him a piece of meat every day, but if she died, though he feared him and though he might afterwards perish, he would first so flay his hide that the wicked mzimu would remember it for ages. he felt greatly encouraged when the meat deposited the previous night disappeared. it might indeed have been carried away by some jackal, but the mzimu might assume the shape of a jackal. kali informed stas of this propitious incident; the latter, however, stared at him as if he did not understand him at all and went on further. passing a clump of shrubs in which he did not find any guinea-fowl, he drew nearer the river. its banks were overgrown with tall trees from which were suspended like long stockings the nests of titmice, beautiful little yellow birds with black wings, and also wasps' nests resembling big roses, but colored like gray blotting-paper. in one place the river formed an expansion a few score paces wide, overgrown in part by papyrus. on this expansion aquatic birds always swarmed. there were storks just like our european storks, and storks with thick bills ending with a hook, and birds black as velvet, with legs red as blood, and flamingoes and ibises, and white spoon-bills with bills like spoons, and cranes with crowns on their heads, and a multitude of curlews, variegated and gray as mice, flying quickly back and forth as if they were tiny sylvan sprites on long, thin, snipe-like legs. stas killed two large ducks, beautiful, cinnamon colored, and treading upon dead butterflies, of which thousands strewed the bank, he first looked around carefully to see whether there were any crocodiles in the shallows, after which he waded into the water and lifted his quarry. the shots had dispersed the birds; there remained only two marabous, standing between ten and twenty paces away and plunged in reverie. they were like two old men with bald heads pressed between the shoulders. they did not move at all. the boy gazed for a while at the loathsome fleshy pouches hanging from their breasts, and afterwards, observing that the wasps were beginning to circle around him more and more frequently, he returned to the camping place. nell still slept; so handing the ducks to mea, he flung himself upon a saddle-cloth and fell into a sound sleep. they did not wake until the afternoon--he first and nell later. the little girl felt somewhat stronger and the strong broth revived her strength still more; she rose and left the tree, desiring to look at the king and at the sun. but only now in the daylight could be seen what havoc that one night's fever had wrought in her. her complexion was yellow and transparent; her lips were black; there were circles furrowed under her eyes, and her face was as though it had aged. even the pupils of her eyes appeared paler than usual. it appeared also, despite her assurances to stas that she felt quite strong and notwithstanding the large cup of broth which she drank immediately after awakening, that she could barely reach the ravine unaided. stas thought with despair of the second attack and that he had neither medicine nor any remedy by which he could prevent it. in the meantime the rain poured a dozen or more times a day, increasing the humidity of the air. x days of suspense, heavy and full of fear, began. the second attack did not come until a week after and was not so strong as the first, but after it nell felt still weaker. she wasted and grew so thin that she no longer was a little girl, but the shadow of a little girl. the flame of her life flickered so faintly that it appeared sufficient to blow at it to extinguish it. stas understood that death did not have to wait for a third attack to take her and he expected it any day or any hour. he himself became emaciated and black, for misfortune exceeded his strength and his reason. so, gazing on her waxen countenance, he said to himself each day: "for this i guarded her like the eye in the head; in order to bury her here in the jungle." and he did not understand why it should be so. at times he reproached himself that he had not guarded her enough, that he had not been sufficiently kind to her, and at such moments such sorrow seized his heart that he wanted to gnaw his own fingers. clearly there was too much of woe. and nell now slept almost continuously and it may be that this kept her alive. stas woke her a few times a day to give her nourishment. then, as often as it did not rain, she begged him to carry her into the open air for now she could not stand on her own feet. it happened, moreover, that she fell asleep in his arms. she knew now that she was very sick and might at any moment die. in moments of greater animation she spoke of this to stas, and always with tears, for she feared death. once she said: "i shall not now return to papa, but tell him that i was very, very sorry--and beg him to come to me." "you will return," stas answered. and he could not say anything more as he wanted to wail. and nell continued in a scarcely audible, dreamy voice: "and papa will come and you will come sometime, will you not?" at this thought a smile brightened the little wan face, but after a while she said in a still lower tone: "but i am so sorry!" saying this she rested her little head upon his shoulder and began to weep. he mastered his pain, pressed her to his bosom, and replied with animation: "nell, i will not return without you--and i do not at all know what i would do in this world without you." silence followed, during which nell again fell asleep. stas carried her to the tree, but he had barely gone outside when from the summit of the promontory kali came running and waving his hands; he began to shout, with an agitated and frightened face: "great master! great master!" "what do you want?" stas asked. and the negro, stretching out his hand and pointing to the south, said: "smoke!" stas shaded his eyes with his palm and straining his sight in the direction indicated really saw in the ruddy luster of the sun, which now stood low, a streak of smoke rising far in the jungle, amid the top of two still more distant hills which were quite high. kali trembled all over, for he well remembered his horrible slavery with the dervishes; he was certain that this was their camping place. to stas, also, it seemed that this could not be any one else than smain, and at first he too became terribly frightened. only this was wanting! besides nell's fatal disease, the dervishes! and again slavery, and again a return to fashoda or to khartûm, under the hand of the mahdi or the lash of abdullahi. if they caught them nell would die at once, while he would remain a slave the rest of the days of his life; and if he did escape of what use was liberty to him without nell? how could he look into the eyes of his father or mr. rawlinson, if the dervishes after her death should fling her to the hyenas. he himself would not even be able to say where her grave was. such thoughts flitted through his head like lightning. suddenly he felt an insurmountable desire to look at nell, and directed his steps towards the tree. on the way he instructed kali to extinguish the fire and not to dare to light it during the night, after which he entered the tree. nell was not sleeping and felt better. she at once communicated this news to stas. saba lay close to her and warmed her with his huge body, while she stroked his head lightly, smiling when he caught with his jaws the subtile dust of the decayed wood floating in the streak of light which the last rays of the setting sun formed in the tree. she apparently was in a better frame of mind, as after a while she addressed stas with quite a lively mien. "and perhaps i may not die." "you surely will not die," stas replied; "since after the second attack you feel stronger, the third will not come at all." but she began to blink with her eyelids as if she were meditating over something and said: "if i had bitter powders like that which made me feel so well after the night with the lions--do you remember?--then i would not think the least bit of dying not even so much!" and she indicated upon her little finger just how little in that case she would be prepared to die. "ah!" stas declared, "i do not know what i would not give for a pinch of quinine." and he thought that if he had enough of it, he would at once treat nell with two powders, even, and then he would wrap her in plaids, seat her before him on a horse, and start immediately in a direction opposite to the one in which the camp of the dervishes was located. in the meantime the sun set and the jungle was suddenly plunged in darkness. the little girl chattered yet for half an hour, after which she fell asleep and stas meditated further about the dervishes and quinine. his distressed but resourceful mind began to labor and form plans, each one bolder and more audacious than the other. first he began to ponder over whether that smoke in the southern direction necessarily came from smain's camp. it might indeed be dervishes, but it also might be arabs from the ocean coast, who made great expeditions into the interior for ivory and slaves. these had nothing in common with the dervishes who injured their trade. the smoke might also be from a camp of abyssinians or from some negro village at the foot-hills which the slave hunters had not yet reached. would it not be proper for him to satisfy himself upon this point? the arabs from zanzibar, from the vicinity of bagamoyo, from witu and from mombasa, and in general from the territory bordering on the ocean, were people who continuously came in contact with white men; so who knows whether for a great reward they would not conduct them to the nearest port? stas knew perfectly well that he could promise such a reward and that they would believe his promise. there occurred to him another idea which touched him to the depth. in khartûm he saw that many of the dervishes, particularly those from nubia, suffered fever almost as badly as the white people and that they cured themselves with quinine which they stole from the europeans, and if it were hidden by renegade greeks or copts they purchased it for its weight in gold. so it might be expected that the arabs from the coast would be certain to have it. "i shall go," stas said to himself, "i shall go, for nell." and pondering more and more strongly upon the situation he, in the end, came to the conclusion that even if that was smain's division, it was incumbent for him to go. he recollected that on account of the complete rupture of relations between egypt and the sudân, smain in all probability knew nothing about their abduction from fayûm. fatma could not have had an understanding with him; therefore that abduction was her individual scheme, executed with the aid of chamis, son of chadigi, together with idris, gebhr, and the two bedouins. now these men did not concern smain for the simple reason that among them he knew only chamis, and the others he never saw in his life. he was concerned only about his own children and fatma. but he might long for them now, and might be glad to return to them, particularly if in the service of the mahdi he apparently did not meet with great fortune, since instead of commanding powerful troops or governing some vast region he was compelled to catch slaves the lord knew where--far beyond fashoda. "i will say to him," stas thought, "that if you will lead us to any seaport on the indian ocean and return with us to egypt, the government will pardon all your offenses; you will rejoin fatma and the children, and besides, mr. rawlinson will make you rich; if not you will never again see your children and fatma in your life." and he was certain that smain would consider well before he rejected such an arrangement. of course this was not altogether safe; it might even prove disastrous, but it might become a plank of rescue from that african whirlpool. stas in the end began to wonder why the possibility of meeting with smain should have frightened him at first and, as he was anxious for quick relief for nell, he determined to go, even that night. it was easier, however, to say than to do it; it is one thing to sit at night in the jungle near a good fire behind a thorny zareba, and another to set forth amid darkness, in high grass, in which at such a time the lion, panther, and leopard, not to speak of hyenas and jackals, are seeking their prey. the boy, however, recollected the words of the young negro at the time when he went during the night to search for saba and, having returned, said to him, "kali feared but kali went." and he repeated to himself, "i shall fear, but i will go." he waited, however, until the moon rose, as the night was extraordinarily dark, and only when the jungle was silvered by her luster did he call kali and say: "kali, take saba into the tree, close the entrance with thorns, and guard the little lady with mea as the eye in your head, while i go and see what kind of people are in that camp." "great master, take kali with you and the rifle which kills bad animals. kali does not want to stay." "you shall stay!" stas said firmly. "and i forbid you to go with me." after which he became silent, but presently said in a somewhat hollow voice: "kali, you are faithful and prudent, so i am confident that you will do what i tell you. if i should not return and the little lady should die, you will leave her in the tree, but around the tree you will build a high zareba and on the bark you will carve a great sign like this." and taking two bamboos, he formed them into a cross, after which he continued thus: "if, however, i do not return and the 'bibi' does not die you shall honor her and serve her faithfully, and afterwards you shall conduct her to your people, and tell the wahima warriors that they should go continually to the east until they reach the great sea. there you will find white men who will give you many rifles, much powder, beads, and wire, and as much cloth as you are able to carry. do you understand?" and the young negro threw himself on his knees, embraced stas' limbs, and began to repeat mournfully: "bwana kubwa! you will return! you will return!" stas was deeply touched by the black boy's devotion, so he leaned over him, placed his hand on his head, and said: "go into the tree, kali--and may god bless you!" remaining alone, he deliberated for a while whether to take the donkey with him. this was the safer course, for lions in africa as well as the tigers in india, in case they meet a man riding a horse or donkey, always charge at the animal and not at the man. but he propounded to himself the question, who in such case will carry nell's tent and on what will she herself ride? after this observation he rejected at once the idea of taking the donkey and set off on foot in the jungle. the moon already rose higher in the heavens; it was therefore considerably lighter. nevertheless, the difficulties began as soon as the boy plunged into the grass, which grew so high that a man on horseback could easily be concealed in it. even in the daytime one could not see a step ahead in it, and what of the night, when the moon illuminated only the heights, and below everything was steeped in a deep shade? under such conditions it was easy to stray and walk around in a circle instead of moving forward. stas, nevertheless, was cheered by the thought that in the first place the camp, towards which he went, was at most three or four english miles distant from the promontory, and again that it appeared between the tops of two lofty hills; therefore, by keeping the hills in sight, one could not stray. but the grass, mimosa, and acacias veiled everything. fortunately every few score of paces there stood white-ant hillocks, sometimes between ten and twenty feet high. stas carefully placed the rifle at the bottom of each hillock; afterwards climbed to the top, and descrying the hills blackly outlined on the background of the sky, descended and proceeded farther. fear seized him only at the thought of what would happen if clouds should veil the moon and the sky, for then he would find himself as though in a subterranean cavern. but this was not the only danger. the jungle in the night time, when, amidst the stillness can be heard every sound, every step, and almost the buzz which the insects creeping over the grass make, is downright terrifying. fear and terror hover over it. stas had to pay heed to everything, to listen, watch, look around in every direction, have his head on screws, as it were, and have the rifle ready to fire at any second. every moment it seemed to him that something was approaching, skulking, hiding in ambush. from time to time he heard the grass stir and the sudden clatter of animals running away. he then conjectured that he had scared some antelopes which, notwithstanding posted guards, sleep watchfully, knowing that many yellow, terrible hunters are seeking them at that hour in the darkness. but now something big is darkly outlined under the umbrella-like acacia. it may be a rock and it may be a rhinoceros or a buffalo which, having scented a man, will wake from a nap and rush at once to attack him. yonder again behind a black bush can be seen two glittering dots. heigh! rifle to face! that is a lion! no! vain alarm! those are fireflies for one dim light rises upwards and flies above the grass like a star shooting obliquely. stas climbed onto ant-hillocks, not always to ascertain whether he was going in the right direction, but to wipe the cold perspiration from his brow, to recover his breath, and to wait until his heart, palpitating too rapidly, calmed. in addition he was already so fatigued that he was barely able to stand on his feet. but he proceeded because he felt that he must do so, to save nell. after two hours he got to a place, thickly strewn with stones, where the grass was lower and it was considerably lighter. the lofty hills appeared as distant as before; on the other hand nearer were the rocky ridges running transversely, beyond which the second, higher hill arose, while both evidently enclosed some kind of valley or ravine similar to the one in which the king was confined. suddenly, about three or four hundred paces on the right, he perceived on the rocky wall the rosy reflection of a flame. he stood still. his heart again beat so strongly that he almost heard it amid the stillness of the night. whom would he see below? arabs from the eastern coast? smain's dervishes, or savage negroes who, escaping from their native villages, sought protection from the dervishes in the inaccessible thickets of the hills? would he find death, or slavery, or salvation for nell? it was imperative to ascertain this. he could not retreat now, nor did he desire to. after a while he stepped in the direction of the fire, moving as quietly as possible and holding the breath in his bosom. having proceeded thus about a hundred paces he unexpectedly heard from the direction of the jungle the snorting of horses and again stopped. in the moonlight he counted five horses. for the dervishes this would not be enough, but he assumed that the rest were concealed in the high grass. he was only surprised that there were no guards near them nor had these guards lighted any fires above to scare away the wild animals. but he thanked the lord that it was so, as he could proceed farther without detection. the luster on the rocks became more and more distinct. before a quarter of an hour passed, stas found himself at a place at which the opposite rock was most illuminated, which indicated that at its base a fire must be burning. then, crawling slowly, he crept to the brink and glanced below. the first object which struck his eyes was a big white tent; before the tent stood a canvas field bed, and on it lay a man attired in a white european dress. a little negro, perhaps twelve years old, was adding dry fuel to the fire which illumined the rocky wall and a row of negroes sleeping under it on both sides of the tent. stas in one moment slid down the declivity to the bottom of the ravine. xi for some time from exhaustion and emotion he could not utter a word, and stood panting heavily before the man lying on the bed, who also was silent and stared at him with an amazement bordering almost upon unconsciousness. finally the latter exclaimed: "nasibu! are you there?" "yes, master," answered the negro lad. "do you see any one any one standing there before me?" but before the boy was able to reply stas recovered his speech. "sir," he said, "my name is stanislas tarkowski. with little miss rawlinson i have escaped from dervish captivity and we are hiding in the jungle. but nell is terribly sick; and for her sake i beg for help." the unknown continued to stare at him, blinking with his eyes, and then rubbed his brow with his hand. "i not only see but hear!" he said to himself. "this is no illusion! what? help? i myself am in need of help. i am wounded." suddenly, however, he shook himself as though out of a wild dream or torpor, gazed more consciously, and, with a gleam of joy in his eyes, said: "a white boy!--i again see a white one! i welcome you whoever you are. did you speak of some sick girl? what do you want of me?" stas repeated that the sick girl was nell, the daughter of mr. rawlinson, one of the directors of the canal; that she already had suffered from two attacks of fever and must die if he did not obtain quinine to prevent the third. "two attacks--that is bad!" answered the unknown. "but i can give you as much quinine as you want. i have several jars of it which are of no use to me now." speaking thus, he ordered little nasibu to hand him a big tin box, which apparently was a small traveling drug store; he took out of it two rather large jars filled with a powder and gave them to stas. "this is half of what i have. it will last you for a year even." stas had a desire to shout from sheer delight, so he began to thank him with as much rapture as if his own life were involved. the unknown nodded his head several times, and said: "good, good, my name is linde; i am a swiss from zurich. two days ago i met with an accident. a wart-hog wounded me severely." afterwards he addressed the lad: "nasibu, fill my pipe." then he said to stas: "in the night-time the fever is worse and my mind becomes confused. but a pipe clears my thoughts. truly, did you say that you had escaped from dervish captivity and are hiding in the jungle? is it so?" "yes, sir. i said it." "and what do you intend to do?" "fly to abyssinia." "you will fall into the hands of the mahdists; whose divisions are prowling all along the boundary." "we cannot, however, undertake anything else." "ah, a month ago i could still have given you aid. but now i am alone--dependent only upon divine mercy and that black lad." stas gazed at him with astonishment. "and this camp?" "it is the camp of death." "and those negroes?" "those negroes are sleeping and will not awaken any more." "i do not understand--" "they are suffering from the sleeping sickness.* [* recent investigations have demonstrated that this disease is inoculated in people by the bite of the same fly "tsetse" which kills oxen and horses. nevertheless its bite causes the sleeping sickness only in certain localities. during the time of the mahdist rebellion the cause of the disease was unknown.] those are men from beyond the great lakes where this terrible disease is continually raging and all fell prey to it, excepting those who previously died of small-pox. only that boy remains to me." stas, just before, was struck by the fact that at the time when he slid into the ravine not a negro stirred or even quivered, and that during the whole conversation all slept--some with heads propped on the rock, others with heads drooping upon their breasts. "they are sleeping and will not awaken any more?" he asked, as though he had not yet realized the significance of what he had heard. and linde said: "ah! this africa is a charnel house." but further conversation was interrupted by the stamping of the horses, which, startled at something in the jungle, came jumping with fettered legs to the edge of the valley, desiring to be nearer to the men and the light. "that is nothing--those are horses," the swiss said. "i captured them from the mahdists whom i routed a few weeks ago. there were three hundred of them; perhaps more. but they had principally spears, and my men remingtons, which now are stacked under that wall, absolutely useless. if you need arms or ammunition take all that you want. take a horse also; you will return sooner to your patient--how old is she?" "eight," stas replied. "then she is still a child-- let nasibu give you tea, rice, coffee, and wine for her. take of the supplies whatever you want, and to-morrow come for more." "i shall surely return to thank you once more from my whole heart and help you in whatever i can." and linde said: "it is good even to gaze at a european face. if you had come earlier i would have been more conscious. now the fever is taking hold of me, for i see double. are there two of you above me? no, i know that you are alone and that this is only the fever. ah! this africa!" and he closed his eyes. a quarter of an hour later stas started to return from this strange camp of sleep and death, but this time on horseback. the night was still dark, but now he paid no heed to any dangers which he might encounter in the high grass. he kept, however, more closely to the river, assuming that both ravines must lead to it. after all it was considerably easier to return, as in the stillness of the night came from a distance the roar of the waterfall; the clouds in the western sky were scattered and, besides the moon, the zodiacal light shone strongly. the boy pricked the horse on the flanks with the broad arabian stirrups and rode at almost breakneck speed, saying in his soul: "what are lions and panthers to me? i have quinine for my little one!" and from time to time he felt the jars with his hand, as if he wanted to assure himself that he actually possessed them and that it was not all a dream. various thoughts and pictures flitted through his brain. he saw the wounded swiss to whom he felt immense gratitude and whom he pitied so heartily that, at first, during their conversation, he took him for a madman; he saw little nasibu with skull as round as a ball, and the row of sleeping "pagahs," and the barrels of the remingtons stacked against the rock and glistening in the fire. he was almost certain that the battle which linde mentioned was with smain's division, and it seemed strange to him to think that smain might have fallen. with these visions mingled the constant thought of nell. he pictured to himself how surprised she would be to behold on the morrow a whole jar of quinine, and that she probably would take him for a performer of miracles. "ah," he said to himself, "if i had acted like a coward and had not gone to ascertain where that smoke came from i would not have forgiven myself during the rest of my life." after the lapse of a little less than an hour the roar of the waterfall became quite distinct and, from the croaking of frogs, he conjectured that he already was near the expansion where he had previously shot aquatic birds. in the moon's luster he even recognized in the distance the trees standing above it. now it was necessary to exercise greater caution, as that overflow formed at the same time a watering place to which all the animals of the locality came, for the banks of the river elsewhere were steep and inaccessible. but it was already late and the beasts of prey evidently hid in rocky dens after their nocturnal quests. the horse snorted a little, scenting the recent tracks of lions or panthers; nevertheless, stas rode on happily, and a moment later saw on the high promontory the big black silhouette of "cracow." for the first time in africa he had a sensation as if he had arrived at home. he reckoned that he would find all asleep, but he reckoned without saba, who began to bark loud enough to awaken even the dead. kali also appeared before the tree and exclaimed: "bwana kubwa! on horseback!" in his voice there was, however, more joy than surprise, as he believed in stas' powers so much that if the latter had even created a horse, the black boy would not have been very much surprised. but as joy in negroes manifests itself in laughter, he began to slap his thighs with his palms and laugh like a madman. "tie this horse," stas said. "remove the supplies from him, build a fire, and boil water." after this he entered the tree. nell awoke also and began to call him. stas, drawing aside the canvas wall, saw by the light of the fire-pot her pale face, and thin, white hands lying on the plaids with which she was covered. "how do you feel, little one?" he asked merrily. "good, and i slept well until saba awoke me. but why do you not sleep?" "because i rode away." "where?" "to a drug store." "to a drug store?" "yes, for quinine." the little girl did not indeed relish very much the taste of the quinine powders which she had taken before, but, as she regarded them as an infallible remedy for all the diseases in the world, she sighed and said: "i know that you have not got any quinine." stas raised one of the jars towards the fire-pot and asked with pride and joy: "and what is this?" nell could scarcely believe her eyes, while he said hurriedly, with beaming countenance: "now you will be well! i shall wrap up at once a large dose in a fresh fig peel and you must swallow it. and you shall see with what you will drink it down. why are you staring at me like at a green cat? yes! i have a second jar. i got both from a white man, whose camp is about four miles from here. i have just returned from him. his name is linde and he is wounded; nevertheless, he gave me a lot of good things. i went to him on foot, but i returned on horseback. you may think it is pleasant to go through the jungle at night. brr! i would not go a second time for anything, unless i again needed quinine." saying this, he left the astonished little maid while he went to the "men's quarters," selected from a supply of figs the smallest one, hollowed it out, and filled the center with quinine, taking care that the dose should not be greater than those powders which he had received in khartûm. after which he left the tree, poured tea into a utensil with water, and returned to nell with the remedy. and during that time she reflected upon everything which had happened. she was immensely curious as to who that white man was. from whence did stas get the information about him? would he come to them, and would he travel along with them? she did not doubt that since stas had secured the quinine she would regain her health. but stas during the night-time went through the jungle as if it were nothing. nell, notwithstanding her admiration for him, had considered, not reflecting much over it, that everything he did for her was to be taken as a matter of course, for it is a plain thing that an older boy ought to protect a little girl. but now it occurred to her that she would have perished long ago; that he cared for her immensely; that he gratified her and defended her as no other boy of his age would have done or knew how to do. so great gratitude overflowed in her little heart, and when stas entered again and leaned over her with the remedy she threw her thin arms around his neck and hugged him heartily. "stas, you are very kind to me." while he replied: "and to whom am i to be kind? why, i like that! take this medicine!" nevertheless he was happy; as his eyes glistened with satisfaction and again with joy and pride, he called, turning to the opening: "mea, serve the 'bibi' with tea, now!" xii stas did not start for linde's camp the following day until noon, for he had to rest after the previous night's adventure. on the way, anticipating that the sick man might need fresh meat, he killed two guinea-fowl, which were really accepted with gratitude. linde was very weak but fully conscious. immediately after the greeting he inquired about nell, after which he warned stas that he should not regard quinine as an entirely sure cure for the fever and that he should guard the little one from the sun, from getting wet, from staying during the night in low and damp places, and finally from bad water. afterwards stas related to him, at his request, his own and nell's history from the beginning to the arrival in khartûm and the visit to the mahdi; and afterwards from fashoda to their liberation from gebhr's hands, and their further wanderings. the swiss gazed during the time of this narration with growing interest, often with evident admiration, and when the narrative reached an end he lit his pipe, surveyed stas from head to foot, and said as if in a reverie: "if in your country there are many boys like you, then they will not be able to manage you very easily." and after a moment of silence he continued: "the best proof of the truth of your words is this, that you are here, that you are standing before me. and believe what i tell you: your situation is terrible; the road, in any direction, is likewise terrible; who knows, however, whether such a boy as you will not save yourself and that child from this gulf." "if nell only will be well, then i shall do whatever i can," exclaimed stas. "but spare yourself, for the task which you have before you is beyond the strength of a mature person. do you know where you are at present?" "no, i remember that after our departure from fashoda we crossed, near a great settlement called deng, some kind of a river." "sobat," interrupted linde. "in deng there were quite a number of dervishes and negroes. but beyond sobat we entered into a region of jungles and proceeded whole weeks until we reached the ravine, in which you know what happened--" "i know. afterwards you went along the ravine until you reached this river. now listen to me; it appears that after crossing the sobat with the sudânese you turned to the southeast, but more to the south. you are at present in a locality unknown to travelers and geographers. the river, near which we are at present, runs northwest, and in all probability falls into the nile. i say in all probability, for i myself do not know and now cannot satisfy myself upon that point, though i turned from the karamojo mountains to investigate its source. after the battle, i heard from the dervish prisoners that it is called ogeloguen, but even they were not certain, as they venture into this region only for slaves. the shilluk tribe occupy this generally sparsely settled country, but at present the region is desolate, as the population partly died of smallpox, partly was swept away by the mahdists, and partly sought refuge in the karamojo mountains. in africa it often happens that a region thickly settled to-day becomes desolate to-morrow. according to my calculations you are a hundred and eighty-six miles, more or less, from lado. you might escape to the south to emin, but as emin himself is in all probability besieged by the dervishes, that is not to be thought of." "and to abyssinia?" stas asked. "that is also about the same distance away. yet you must bear in mind that the mahdi is waging war against the whole world and, therefore, against abyssinia. i know also from the prisoners that along the western and southern frontiers greater or smaller hordes of dervishes are prowling and you might therefore easily fall into their hands. abyssinia indeed is a christian empire, but the savage southern tribes are either pagan or profess islam and for that reason secretly favor the mahdi,--no, you will not get through that way." "well, what am i to do, and where shall i go with nell?" stas asked. "i told you that your situation is extremely difficult," linde said. saying this he put both hands to his head and for a long time lay in silence. "the ocean," he finally said, "is over five hundred and sixty miles from here; you would have to cross mountains, go among savage peoples, and even pass over deserts, for it is probable that there are waterless localities. but the country nominally belongs to england. you might chance upon transports of ivory to kismayu, to lamu and mombasa--perhaps upon missionary expeditions. realizing that on account of the dervishes i would not be able to explore the course of this river because it turns to the nile, i, too, wanted to go eastward to the ocean." "then we shall return together," stas exclaimed. "i shall never return. the wart-hog has so badly torn my muscles and veins that an infection of the blood must set in. only a surgeon could save me by amputating my leg. now everything has coagulated and become numb, but during the first days i bit my hands from pain--" "you surely will get well." "no, my brave lad, i surely will die and you will cover me well with stones, so that the hyenas cannot dig me out. to the dead it may be all the same, but during life it is unpleasant to think of it. it is hard to die so far away from your own--" here his eyes were dimmed as though with a mist, after which he continued thus: "but i already have become resigned to the idea--so let us speak about you, not about me. i will give you this advice. there remains for you only the road to the east, to the ocean. but take a good rest before starting and gain strength, otherwise your little companion will die in the course of a few weeks. postpone the journey until the end of the rainy season, and even longer. the first summer months, when the rain ceases to fall and the water still covers the marshes, are the healthiest. here, where we are, is a plateau lying about twenty-two hundred and eighty-nine feet above the sea. at the height of forty-two hundred and fifty feet the fever does not exist and when brought from the lower places its course is weaker. take the little english girl up into the mountains." talking apparently fatigued him very much, so he again broke off and for some time impatiently brushed away the big blue flies; the same kind as those which stas saw among the burnt débris of fashoda. after this he continued thus: "pay close attention to what i tell you. about a day's journey towards the south there is an isolated mountain, not higher than twenty-six hundred and twenty feet; it looks like a pan turned upside down. its sides are steep, and the only way of reaching it is by a rocky ridge so narrow that in some places two horses can barely proceed on it side by side. on its flat top, which is about thirty-five hundred feet wide, there was a negro village, but the mahdists slaughtered and carried away the residents. it may be that this was done by that same smain whom i defeated, but those slaves i did not capture because he had previously despatched them under an escort to the nile. settle on that mountain. there is a spring of excellent water, a few manioc fields, and a multitude of bananas. in the huts you will find a great many human bones, but do not fear infection from the corpses, as after the dervishes there were ants there, which drove us from the place. and now, not a living creature! remain in that village a month or two. at such a height there is no fever. nights are cool. there your little one will recover her health, and you will gain new strength." "and what am i to do afterwards, and where shall i go?" "after that it will be as god disposes. try to get through to abyssinia in places situated farther than where the dervishes have reached, or ride to the east--i heard that the coast arabs are reaching some kind of lake in their search for ivory which they purchase from the samburu and wahima tribes." "wahima? kali comes from the wahima tribe." here stas began to narrate to linde the manner in which he inherited kali after gebhr's death and that kali had told him that he was the son of the ruler of all the wahimas. but linde received this information more indifferently than stas expected. "so much the better," he said, "as he may be helpful to you. among the blacks there are honest souls, though as a rule you cannot depend upon their gratitude; they are children who forget what happened the day before." "kali will not forget that i rescued him from gebhr's hands, i am sure of that." "perhaps," linde said, and pointing at nasibu added: "he also is a good child; take him with you after my death." "do not speak of death, sir." "my dear boy," answered the swiss, "i desire it--if it would only come without great agony; consider that now i am completely unarmed, and if any one of the mahdists whom i routed should accidentally stray to this hollow, alone he could stab me like a sheep." here he pointed to the sleeping negroes. "they will not wake any more, or rather--i speak incorrectly--all of them awake for a short time before their death and in their mental aberration fly to the jungle, from which they never more return. of two hundred men, sixty remained to me. many ran away, many died of smallpox, and some fell asleep in other ravines." stas with pity and awe began to gaze at the sleepers. their bodies were ashen-hued, which in negroes indicates paleness. some had their eyes closed, others half open; but these latter slept deeply, for their eyeballs were not susceptible to the light. the knees of some were swollen. all were frightfully thin, so that their ribs could be counted through their skins. their hands and feet quivered without cessation very rapidly. the big blue flies swarmed thickly on their eyes and lips. "is there no help for them?" stas asked. "there is none. on victoria nyanza this disease depopulates whole villages. sometimes more severely, sometimes less. it most frequently takes hold of the people of the villages situated in the underwood on the banks." the sun had passed to the western sky, but still before night linde had related to stas his history. he was a son of a merchant of zurich. his family came from karlsruhe, but from the year had resided in switzerland. his father amassed a great fortune in the silk trade. he educated his son for an engineer, but young henry was attracted from early youth by travel. after completing his studies in a polytechnical school, having inherited his father's entire fortune, he undertook his first journey to egypt. it was before the mahdi's time, so he reached as far as khartûm, and hunted with dongolese in the sudân. after that he devoted himself to the geography of africa and acquired such an expert knowledge of it that many geographical societies enrolled him among their members. this last journey, which was to end so disastrously for him, began in zanzibar. he had reached as far as the great lakes and intended to penetrate into abyssinia along the karamojo mountains, which up to that time were unknown, and from there to proceed to the ocean coast. but the natives of zanzibar refused to go any farther. fortunately, or unfortunately, there was a war between the kings of uganda and unyoro. linde rendered important services to the king of uganda, who in exchange for them presented him with over two hundred bodyguards. this greatly facilitated the journey and the visit to the karamojo mountains, but afterwards smallpox appeared in the ranks, after that the dreadful sleeping sickness, and finally the wreck of the caravan. linde possessed considerable supplies of various kinds of preserved food, but from fear of the scurvy he hunted every day for fresh meat. he was an excellent shot but not a sufficiently careful sportsman, and it happened that when a few days before he thoughtlessly drew near a wild boar which had fallen from his shot, the beast started up and tore his legs frightfully, and afterwards trampled upon his loins. this happened near the camp and in the sight of nasibu, who, tearing his shirt and making bandages of it, was able to check the flow of blood and lead the wounded man to the tent. in the foot, however, coagulum was formed from the internal flow of blood and gangrene threatened the patient. stas insisted upon dressing his wounds and announced that he would come daily, or, so as not to leave nell only under the care of the two blacks, he proposed to convey him to "cracow," on saddle-cloth, stretched between two horses. linde agreed to the dressing of the wounds, but would not agree to the removal. "i know," he said, pointing at the negroes, "that those men must die, but until they die, i cannot doom them to be torn to pieces alive by hyenas, which during the night-time are held back by the fire." and he began to repeat feverishly: "i cannot! i cannot! i cannot!" but he became calm immediately, and continued in a strange voice: "come here to-morrow morning--i have a request to make of you, and if you can perform it, god may lead you out of this african gulf, and grant me an easy death. i wished to postpone this request until to-morrow, but as i may be unconscious to-morrow i make it to-day. take water in some utensil, stop before each one of those poor sleeping fellows, sprinkle water over him, and say these words: 'i baptize thee, in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy ghost!'" here emotion checked his speech and he became silent. "i reproach myself," he said after a while, "that i did not take leave in that manner of those who died of small-pox and of those who fell into their final slumber. but now death is hovering over me, and i desire to go together with even that remnant of my caravan upon the last great journey." saying this he pointed with his hand at the ruddy sky, and two tears coursed slowly over his cheeks. stas wept like a beaver. xiii the next morning's sun illuminated a strange spectacle. stas walked along the rocky walls, stopped before each negro, moistened his forehead with water, and pronounced over him the sacramental words. and they slept with quivering hands and limbs, with heads drooping on their breasts or tilted upwards, still alive but already resembling corpses. and thus took place this baptism of the sleepers--in the morning stillness, in the luster of the sun, in the desert gloom. the sky that day was cloudless, a grayish blue, and as though sad. linde was still conscious, but grew weaker and weaker. after the wounds were dressed, he handed to stas papers enclosed in a tin case, entrusted them to his care, and said nothing more. he could not eat, but thirst tormented him terribly. before sunset he became delirious. he shouted at some imaginary children not to sail too far away on some unknown lake, and afterwards fell into chills, and clasped his head with both hands. on the following day he did not recognize stas at all, and at noon, three days later, he died without recovering consciousness. stas mourned for him sincerely, and afterwards with kali carried him to a neighboring narrow cave, the opening of which they closed with thorns and stones. stas took little nasibu to "cracow," while kali was ordered to watch the supplies at the camp and keep a big fire burning near the sleepers. stas bustled continually between the two ravines, conveying luggage and particularly the rifle cartridges, from which he extracted powder and made a mine for the purpose of blasting the rock which imprisoned the king. happily nell's health improved considerably after daily doses of quinine, and the greater variety of food increased her strength. stas left her reluctantly and with fear, and on riding away would not permit her to leave the tree and closed the opening with thorny acacia boughs. owing to the pressure of work which devolved upon him, he had to leave her, however, to the care of mea, nasibu, and saba, upon whom after all he depended the most. rather than to leave her alone for any length of time, he preferred to ride a score of times each day to linde's camp for the luggage. he also overworked himself terribly, but his iron constitution endured all toil. nevertheless, not until the tenth day were all the packs distributed; those of less value were hidden in caves, and those of more importance were brought to "cracow"; the horses, too, were led onto the promontory and a considerable number of remington rifles were carried by them, which rifles were to be borne later by the king. during that time in linde's camp, from time to time, some of the sleeping negroes would start up in an ante-mortem paroxysm of the disease, fly into the jungle, and return no more; there were some who died on the spot, and others, rushing blindly, crushed their heads on the rocks in the camp itself or in the neighborhood. these kali had to bury. after two weeks only one remained, but that one soon died in his sleep from exhaustion. finally the time arrived for blasting the rock and the liberation of the king. he was so tame now that at stas' order he seized him with his trunk and placed him on his neck. he also had become accustomed to bearing things which kali pulled on his back over a bamboo ladder. nell insisted that he was too heavily burdened, but in truth to him it was like a fly, and only the luggage inherited from linde could form a respectable load for him. with saba, at the sight of whom in the beginning he displayed uneasiness, he became quite friendly, and played with him in this manner: he would overturn him on the ground with his trunk, and saba would pretend that he was biting. at times, however, he would unexpectedly souse the dog with water, which act was regarded by the latter as a joke of the poorest taste. the children were principally pleased because the beast, being quick of comprehension and seriously minded, understood everything that was wanted of him and seemed to comprehend, not only every order, but even every nod. in this respect elephants surpass immeasurably all other domesticated animals, and the king, beyond comparison, surpassed saba, who wagged his tail to all of nell's admonitions and afterwards did whatever he pleased. the king discerned perfectly, for instance, that the person whom it was most necessary to obey was stas, and that the person about whom all cared the most was nell. so he most carefully complied with stas' orders, and loved nell the most. to kali he paid less heed and mea he slighted entirely. stas, after making the mine, inserted it in the deepest fissure, after which he plastered it wholly with clay, leaving only a small opening through which hung a fuse twisted of dry palm fiber and rubbed with fine powder. the decisive moment finally arrived. stas personally lit the powdered rope, after which he ran as far as his legs could carry him to the tree in which previously he had fastened all the others. nell was afraid that the king might be frightened too much, but the boy calmed her first with the statement that he had selected a day on which the morning was accompanied by a thunderstorm, and then with the assurance that wild elephants often hear the peal of thunder when the heavenly elements are unfettered over the jungle. they sat, however, with palpitating hearts, counting minute after minute. a terrific roar so agitated the atmosphere that the sturdy baobab tree shook from top to bottom and remnants of the unscraped decayed wood poured upon their heads. stas, at that moment, jumped out of the tree and, avoiding the bends of the ravine, ran to the passageway. the results of the explosion appeared extraordinary. one half of the lime rock was reduced to minute fragments; the other half had burst into about a score of greater or smaller pieces, which the force of the explosion scattered to quite a distance. the elephant was free. the overjoyed boy now rushed to the edge of the ravine, where he found nell with mea and kali. the king was startled a little and, retreating to the very brink of the ravine, stood with uplifted trunk, gazing in the direction from which came the sound of such unusual thunder. but when nell began to call to him, when she came to him through the passageway, already opened, he became entirely quiet. more startled than the king were the horses, of which two dashed into the jungle, and it was not until sunset that kali caught them. that very same day nell led the king "out into the world." the colossus followed her obediently, like a little puppy, and afterwards bathed in the river, and alone secured his supper in this singular manner: bracing his head against a big sycamore tree, he broke it like a feeble reed and afterwards carefully nibbled the fruit and the leaves. towards evening he returned, however, to the tree, and shoving, every little while, his enormous nose through an opening, sought for nell so zealously and persistently that stas finally was compelled to give his trunk a sound smack. kali, however, was the most overjoyed with the result of that day, for upon his shoulders had fallen the work of gathering provisions for the giant, which was by no means an easy task. so then stas and nell heard him, while lighting the fire for supper, sing a new hymn of joy, composed of the following words: "the great master kills men and lions. yah! yah! the great master crushes rocks. yah! yah! the elephant, himself, breaks trees and kali can be idle and eat. yah! yah!" the rainy season, or the so-called "massica," was drawing to an end. there were yet cloudy and rainy days, but there were also days entirely clear. stas decided to remove to the mountain indicated to him by linde, and this purpose he carried out soon after the king's liberation. nell's health did not present any obstacles now, as she felt decidedly better. selecting, therefore, a clear day, they started at noon. they were not afraid now that they would stray, as the boy had inherited from linde, among various articles, a compass and an excellent field-glass, through which it was easy to descry distant localities. besides saba and the donkey they were accompanied by five pack-horses and the elephant. the latter, besides the luggage on his back, on his neck bore nell, who between his two enormous ears looked as though she were sitting in a big arm-chair. stas without regret abandoned the promontory and the baobab tree, for it was associated with the recollection of nell's illness. on the other hand, the little girl gazed with sad eyes at the rocks, at the trees, at the waterfall, and announced that she would return there when she should be "big." sadder still was little nasibu, who had loved sincerely his former master, and, at present riding on the donkey in the rear, he turned around every little while and looked with tears in his eyes towards the place where poor linde would remain until the day of the great judgment. the wind blew from the north and the day was unusually cool. thanks to this they did not have to stop and wait from ten to three, until the greatest heat was over, and they could travel a longer distance than is customary with caravans. the road was not long, and a few hours before sunset stas espied the mountain towards which they were bound. in the distance on the background of the sky was outlined a long chain of other peaks, and this mountain rose nearer and lonely, like an island in a jungle sea. when they rode closer it appeared that its steep sides were washed by a loop of the river near which they previously had settled. the top was perfectly flat, and seen from below appeared to be covered by one dense forest. stas computed that since the promontory, on which their baobab tree grew, was about twenty-three hundred feet high and the mountain about twenty-six hundred feet, they would dwell at an elevation of about forty-nine hundred feet and in a climate not much warmer, therefore, than that of egypt. this thought encouraged him and urged him to take possession of this natural fortress as quickly as possible. they easily found the only rocky ridge which led to it and began the ascent. after the lapse of half an hour they stood on the summit. that forest seen from below was really a forest--but of bananas. the sight of them delighted all exceedingly, not excepting the king, and stas was particularly pleased, for he knew that there is not in africa a more nourishing and healthy food nor a better preventative of all ailments than the flour of dried banana fruit. there were so many of them that they would suffice even for a year. amidst the immense leaves of these plants was hidden the negro village; most of the huts had been burned or ruined at the time of the attack, but some were still whole. in the center stood the largest, belonging at one time to the king of the village; it was prettily made of clay, with a wide roof forming around the walls a sort of veranda. before the huts lay here and there human bones and skeletons, white as chalk, for they had been cleaned by the ants of whose invasion linde spoke. from the time of the invasion many weeks had already elapsed; nevertheless, in the huts could be smelt the leaven of ants, and one could find in them neither the big black cock-roaches, which usually swarm in all negro hovels, nor spiders nor scorpions nor the smallest of insects. everything had been cleaned out by the terrible "siafu." it was also a certainty that there was not on the whole mountain-top a single snake, as even boas fall prey to these invincible little warriors. after conducting nell and mea into the chief's hut, stas ordered kali and nasibu to remove the human bones. the black boys carried out this order by flinging them into the river, which carried them farther. while thus employed, however, they found that linde was mistaken in declaring that they would not find a living creature on the mountain. the silence which reigned after the seizure of the people by the dervishes and the sight of the bananas had allured a great number of chimpanzees which built for themselves, on the loftier trees, something like umbrellas or roofs, for protection against rain. stas did not want to kill them, but decided to drive them away, and with this object in view he fired a shot into the air. this produced a general panic, which increased still more when after the shot saba's furious bass barking resounded, and the king, incited by the noise, trumpeted threateningly. but the apes, to make a retreat, did not need to seek the rocky ridge; they dashed over the broken rocks towards the river and the trees growing near it with such rapidity that saba's fangs could not reach any of them. the sun had set. kali and nasibu built a fire to prepare for supper. stas, after unpacking the necessary articles for the night, repaired to the king's hut, which was occupied by nell. it was light and cheerful in the hut, for mea had lit, not the fire-pot which had illuminated the interior of the baobab tree, but a large traveling lamp inherited from linde. nell did not at all feel fatigued from the journey in a day so cool, and fell into perfect good humor, especially when stas announced that the human bones, which she feared, had been taken away. "how nice it is here!" she exclaimed. "look, even the floor is covered with resin. it will be fine here." "to-morrow i shall fully examine our possessions," he answered; "judging, however, by what i have seen to-day, one could dwell here all his life." "if our papas were here, then we could. but how will you name this possession?" "the mountain ought to be called mount linde in geographies; and let this village be named after you, nell." "then i shall be in the geographies?" asked she with great glee. "you will, you will," stas replied in all seriousness. xiv the next day it rained a little, but there were hours when the weather was clear, so stas early in the morning started to visit his possessions and at noon had viewed thoroughly all the nooks. the inspection on the whole created a favorable impression. first, in respect to safety, mount linde was as though the chosen spot of all africa. its sides were accessible only to chimpanzees. neither lions nor panthers could climb over its precipitous sides. as to the rocky ridge, it was sufficient to place the king at its entrances to be able to sleep safely on both ears. stas came to the conclusion that there he could repulse even a small division of dervishes, as the road leading to the mountain was so narrow that the king could barely pass on it and a man armed with a good weapon need not permit a living soul to reach the top. in the middle of the "island" gushed a spring, cool and pure as crystal, which changed into a stream and, running sinuously amid the banana groves, finally fell over the steep hanging rocks to the river, forming a narrow waterfall resembling a white tape. on the southern side of the "island" lay a field, covered abundantly with manioc, the roots of which supply the negroes with their favorite food, and beyond the fields towered immeasurably high cocoa palms with crowns in the shape of magnificent plumes of feathers. the "island" was surrounded by a sea of jungle and the view from it extended over an immense expanse. from the east loomed lividly the karamojo mountain chain. on the south could also be seen considerable elevations, which, to judge from their dark hue, were covered with forests. on the other hand, on the western side the view ran as far as the horizon's boundary, at which the jungle met the sky. stas descried, however, with the help of the field-glass, numerous hollows and, scattered sparsely, mighty trees rising above the grass like churches. in places, where the grasses had not yet shot up too high, could be perceived even with the naked eye whole herds of antelopes and zebras or groups of elephants and buffaloes. here and there giraffes cut through the dark green surface of the sea of grass. close by the river a dozen or more water-bucks disported and others every little while thrust their horny heads out of the depths. in one place where the water was calm, fishes like those which kali had caught leaped every little while out of the water, and, twinkling in the air like silvery stars, fell again into the river. stas promised to himself to bring nell there when the weather had settled and show her this whole menagerie. on the "island," on the other hand, there were none of the larger animals; instead there were a great number of butterflies and birds. big parrots, white as snow, with black beaks and yellow crests flew above the bushes of the grove; tiny, wonderfully plumaged widow-birds swung on the thin manioc stalks, changing color and glittering like jewels, and from the high cocoa trees came the sounds of the african cuckoos and the gentle cooing of the turtle-dove. stas returned from his inspection trip with joy in his soul. "the climate," he said, "is healthy; the security is perfect, the provisions are abundant, and the place is as beautiful as paradise." returning to nell's hut he learned to his surprise that there were larger animals on the "island"; two, in fact, for little nasibu had discovered in a banana thicket while stas was absent a goat with a kid, which the dervishes had overlooked. the goat was a little wild, but the kid at once became friendly with nasibu, who was immeasurably proud of his discovery and of the fact that through his instrumentality "bibi" would now have excellent fresh milk daily. "what shall we do now, stas?" nell asked one day, when she had settled down for good to her housekeeping on the "island." "there is plenty of work to do," the boy answered, after which, spreading out the fingers of one hand, he began to count on them all the work awaiting them. "in the first place kali and mea are pagans, and nasibu, as a native of zanzibar, is a mohammedan. it is necessary to enlighten them, teach them the faith, and baptize them. then, it is necessary to smoke meat for our future journey and therefore i must go hunting; thirdly, having a good supply of rifles and cartridges, i want to teach kali to shoot in order that there shall be two of us to defend you; and fourthly--you probably forgot about the kites?" "about the kites?" "yes, those which you will glue, or better still, you will sew. that shall be your work." "i don't want to play only." "that won't be all play, but work most useful for all. don't think that it will end with one kite for you must be ready for fifty or more." "but why so many?" asked the girl, whose curiosity was aroused. so stas began to explain his plans and hopes. he would write on each kite their names, how they had escaped from the hands of the dervishes, where they were, and whither they were bound. he would also inscribe a request for help and that a message be despatched to port said. after that he would fly these kites every time the wind was blowing from the west to the east. "many of them," he said, "will fall not far off; many will be stopped by the mountains, but let only one of them fly to the coast and fall into european hands--then we are saved." nell was enchanted with the idea and announced that in comparison with the wisdom of stas not even that of the king could be mentioned. she also was quite certain that a multitude of the kites would fly even to their papas, and she promised to glue them from morning until night. her joy was so great that stas, from fear that she might get a fever, was compelled to restrain her ardor. and from that time the work that stas spoke of began in earnest. kali, who was ordered to catch as many leaping fish as possible, ceased to catch them on a line and instead made a high fence of thin bamboo, or rather something in the nature of a trellis, and this sluice he pulled across the river. in the middle of the trellis was a big opening through which the fishes had to swim in order to get into the free water. in this opening kali placed a strong net plaited of tough palm ropes, and in this manner was assured of a bountiful catch. he drove fish into the treacherous net with the help of the king, who, led into the water, muddied and stirred it so that not only those silvery leapers but all other creatures vanished as far as they could to an unmuddied depth. on account of this, some damage also occurred, as several times escaping crocodiles overturned the trellis, or at times the king did this himself; cherishing for crocodiles some sort of inbred hatred, he pursued them, and when they were in shallow waters he seized them with his trunk, tossed them onto the bank, and trampled upon them furiously. they found also in the nets tortoises, from which the young exiles made an excellent broth. kali dressed the fish and dried them in the sun, while the bladders were taken to nell, who cut them open, stretched them upon a board, and changed them into sheets as large as the palms of two hands. she was assisted at this by stas and mea, as the work was not at all easy. the membranes were thicker, indeed, than that of the bladders of our river fish, but after drying up they became very frail. stas after some time discovered that they ought to be dried in the shade. at times, however, he lost patience, and if he did not abandon the design of making kites from the membranes it was because he regarded them as lighter than paper and of better proof against rain. the dry season of the year was already approaching, but he was uncertain whether rain did not fall during the summer particularly in the mountains. however, he glued kites with paper, of which a large amount was found among linde's effects. the first one, big and light, was let go in a western wind; it shot up at once very high, and when stas cut the string, flew, carried by a powerful current of air, to the karamojo mountain chain. stas watched its flight with the aid of the field-glass until it became as small as a butterfly, a little speck, and until finally it dissolved in the pale azure of the sky. the following day he let go others made of fish bladder, which shot up still higher, but on account of the transparency of the membranes soon disappeared entirely from view. nell worked, however, with extraordinary zeal, and in the end her little fingers acquired such skill that neither stas nor mea could keep up with her work. she did not lack strength now. the salubrious climate of mount linde simply regenerated her. the period during which the fatal third attack could come, had definitely passed. that day stas hid himself in a banana thicket and wept from joy. after a fortnight's stay on the mountain he observed that the "good mzimu" looked entirely different from what she did below in the jungle. her cheeks were plumper, her complexion from yellow and transparent became rosy again, and from under the abundant tufts of hair, merry eyes full of luster gazed upon the world. the boy blessed the cool nights, the translucent spring-water, the flour of dried bananas, and, above all, linde. he himself became lean and swarthy, which was evidence that the fever would not take hold of him, as sufferers from that disease do not tan from the sun--and he was growing up and becoming manly. activity and physical labor intensified his bravery and strength. the muscles of his hands and limbs became like steel. indeed, he was already a hardened african traveler. hunting daily and shooting only with bullets, he became also a matchless shot. he did not at all fear the wild animals, for he understood that it was more dangerous for the shaggy-haired and the spotted hunters of the jungle to meet him than for him to meet them. once he killed with a single shot a big rhinoceros, which, aroused from a light nap under an acacia, charged at him unexpectedly. he treated with indifference the aggressive african buffaloes, which at times disperse whole caravans. aside from the gluing of kites and other daily engagements, he and nell also began the work of converting kali, mea, and nasibu. but it was harder than they expected. the black trio listened most willingly to the instructions, but received them in their own negro way. when stas told them of the creation of the world, about paradise and about the snake, the teaching proceeded fairly well, but when he related how cain killed abel, kali involuntarily stroked his stomach and asked quite calmly: "did he eat him afterwards?" the black boy always claimed, indeed, that the wahimas never ate people, but evidently memory of that custom still lingered among them as a national tradition. he likewise could not understand why god did not kill the wicked "mzimu," and many similar things. his conception of good and evil was too african; in consequence of which there once occurred between the teacher and pupil this colloquy: "tell me," asked stas, "what is a wicked deed?" "if any one takes away kali's cow," he answered after a brief reflection, "that then is a wicked deed." "excellent!" exclaimed stas, "and what is a good one?" this time the answer came without any reflection: "if kali takes away the cow of somebody else, that is a good deed." stas was too young to perceive that similar views of evil and good deeds were enunciated in europe not only by politicians but by whole nations. nevertheless, slowly, very slowly, the light dawned in their benighted minds, and that which they could not comprehend with their heads they understood with their warm hearts. after a time they were fitted for the baptismal rites, which were performed with great solemnity. the god-parents gave to each child sixteen yards of white percale and a string of blue beads. mea, nevertheless, felt somewhat disappointed, for in the simplicity of her soul she thought that after the baptism her skin would at once turn white, and great was her astonishment when she observed that she remained as black as before. nell comforted her, however, with the assurance that now she possessed a white soul. xv stas instructed kali also how to shoot from a remington rifle, and this instruction proceeded more easily than the teaching of the catechism. after ten days' shooting at a mark and at crocodiles which slept on the sandy river banks, the young negro killed a big antelope cob; after that a few ariels and finally a wart-hog. the encounter with the latter, however, almost resulted in the same kind of accident which befell linde, for the wart-hog, which kali approached carelessly after the shot, started up suddenly and charged at him with tail upraised. kali, flinging away the rifle, sought refuge in a tree, where he sat until his cries brought stas, who, however, found the wild boar already dead. stas did not yet permit the boy to hunt for buffaloes, lions, and rhinoceroses. he himself did not shoot at the elephants which came to the watering place, because he had promised nell that he would never kill one. when, however, in the morning or during the afternoon hours, from above he espied, through the field-glass, herds of zebras, hartbeests, ariels, or springboks grazing in the jungle, he took kali with him. during these excursions he often questioned the boy about the wahima and samburu nations, with which, desiring to go eastward, to the ocean coast, they necessarily must come in contact. "do you know, kali," he asked a certain day, "that after twenty days on horseback we could reach your country?" "kali does not know where the wahimas live," the young negro answered, sadly shaking his head. "but i know that they live in the direction in which the sun rises in the morning, near some great water." "yes! yes!" exclaimed the boy with amazement and joy; "basso-narok! that in our language means, great and black water. the great master knows everything." "no, for i do not know how the wahimas would receive us if we came to them." "kali would command them to fall on their faces before the great master and before the 'good mzimu.'" "and would they obey?" "kali's father wears a leopard's hide--and kali, too." stas understood this to mean that kali's father was a king, and that kali was his oldest son and the future ruler of the wahimas. so he continued to ask further: "you told me that white travelers visited you and that the older people remember them." "yes, and kali has heard that they had a great deal of percale on their heads." "ah!" thought stas, "so those were not europeans, but arabs, whom the negroes on account of their lighter complexion and white dress mistook for white men." inasmuch, however, as kali did not remember them and could not give any more specific details about them, stas propounded to him other questions. "have not the wahimas killed any of these men dressed in white?" "no! neither the wahimas nor the samburus can do that." "why?" "for they said that if their blood should soak into the ground the rain would cease to fall." "i am glad to hear that they believe so." stas thought for a while, after which he asked: "would the wahimas go with us to the sea, if i promised them a big quantity of percale, beads, and rifles?" "kali goes and the wahimas also, but the great master would first have to subdue the samburus, who are settled on the other side of the water." "and who lives beyond the samburus?" "beyond the samburus there are no mountains, and there is a jungle, and in it lions." with this the conversation ended. stas more and more frequently thought of the great journey towards the east, remembering that linde had said that they might meet coast arabs trading in ivory, and perhaps a missionary expedition. he knew that such a journey would be a series of terrible hardships for nell and full of new dangers, but he realized that they could not remain all their lives on mount linde and it was necessary to start soon on the journey. the time, after the rainy season, when water covers the pestilential swamps, and is to be found everywhere, was the most suitable for the purpose. the heat could not yet be felt on the high table-land; the nights were so cool still that it was necessary to be well covered. but in the jungle below it was considerably hotter, and he knew well that intense heat would soon come. the rain now seldom bedewed the earth and the water level in the river lowered daily. stas assumed that in summer the river would change into one of those "khors," of which he saw many in the libyan desert, and that only in the very middle of it would flow a narrow stream of water. nevertheless, he postponed the departure from day to day. on mount linde it was so well with all, themselves as well as the animals! nell not only was rid of the fever but of anaemia also; stas' head never ached; kali's and mea's skins began to shine like black satin; nasibu looked like a melon walking on thin legs, and the king, no less than the horses and the donkey, grew fat. stas well knew that they would not until the end of the journey find another island like this amidst the jungle sea. and he viewed the future with fear; moreover, they had in the king great assistance and in case of necessity a defense. thus a week more elapsed before they commenced preparations for the journey. in moments free from packing their effects they did not cease, however, to send out kites with the announcement that they were going eastward towards some lake, and towards the ocean. they continued to fly them because they were favored by a strong western wind, resembling at times a hurricane, which seized and carried them to the mountains and far beyond the mountains. in order to protect nell from the scorching heat, stas constructed from pieces of a tent a palanquin in which the little maid was to ride on the elephant. the king, after a few trials, became accustomed to this not great burden, as well as to the fastening of the palanquin on his back with strong palm ropes. this load after all was a feather in comparison to others with which it was intended to burden him and upon the distribution and tying of which kali and mea were engaged. little nasibu was commissioned to dry bananas and grind them into flour between two flat stones. at the plucking of the heavy bunches of fruit he was assisted by the king, at which work they overfed themselves to such an extent that, in the neighborhood of the huts, bananas were soon entirely gone, and they had to go to another plantation lying on the opposite extremity of the table-land. saba, who had nothing to do, most frequently accompanied them on these excursions. but nasibu, for his zeal, almost paid with his life, or at least with captivity of a singular kind. for it happened that once when he was plucking bananas above the brink of a steep hanging rock he suddenly beheld in the rocky gap a hideous face, covered with black hair, blinking at him with its eyes, and displaying white fangs as though smiling. the boy was stupefied from terror at first and then began to scurry away as fast as his legs could carry him. he ran between ten and twenty paces when a hairy arm wound around him, he was lifted off his feet, and the monster, black as night, began to fly with him to the precipice. fortunately the gigantic ape, having seized the boy, could run only on two feet, in consequence of which saba, who was in the vicinity, easily overtook it and buried his fangs in its back. a horrible fight began, in which the dog, notwithstanding his powerful stature and strength, would surely have had to succumb, for a gorilla vanquishes even a lion. simians as a rule, however, do not relinquish their quarry even though their lives and liberty are in danger. the gorilla, being caught from behind, could not easily reach saba; nevertheless, having grabbed him by the neck with its left hand it had already raised him, when the ground gave a dull sound under heavy steps and the king appeared. one light thwack with the trunk sufficed to prostrate with a shattered skull and neck the terrible "forest demon," as the negroes call the gorilla. the king, however, for greater certainty or through inborn fury, pinned the gorilla with his tusks to the ground and afterwards did not cease to wreak his vengeance upon it until stas, disquieted by the roar and howling, came running up with a rifle and ordered him to stop. the huge gorilla, with the whites of the eyes rolled up and fangs displayed, terrible still, though not alive, lay in a puddle of blood which saba lapped and which crimsoned the king's tusks. the elephant trumpeted triumphantly and nasibu, ashen from terror, related to stas what had happened. the latter pondered for a while whether or not to bring nell and show her this monstrous ape, but abandoned the intention, for suddenly he was seized by fear. of course, nell often strolled alone over the island. so something similar might befall her. it appeared, therefore, that mount linde was not so safe a shelter as it seemed in the first instance. stas returned to the hut and related the incident to nell, while she listened with curiosity and fear, opening wide her eyes and repeating every little while: "you see what would have happened without the king." "true! with such a nurse one need not fear about a child. so then, until we leave, do not move a step without him." "when shall we leave?" "the supplies are ready; the packs distributed; so it is necessary only to load the animals and we can start even to-morrow." "to our papas!" "if god permits," stas answered gravely. xvi nevertheless, they did not start until several days after this conversation. the departure, after a short prayer in which they warmly commended themselves to god, took place at daybreak, six o'clock in the morning. stas rode at the head, on horseback, preceded by saba. after him the king ambled gravely, moving his ears and bearing on his powerful back a canvas palanquin and in the palanquin nell with mea; they were followed by linde's horses one after another, tied together with a long palm rope and carrying numerous packs; and the procession closed with little nasibu on the donkey, as fat as himself. on account of the early hour, the heat was not at first oppressive, though the day was clear and from beyond the karamojo mountains the sun rolled magnificently, not shaded by a cloudlet. but an eastern breeze mollified the intense heat of its rays. at moments there rose quite a strong wind, under whose breath the grass lay low and the whole jungle became wavy like the sea. after the copious rains all vegetation grew so exuberantly that, in lower places especially, not only the horses were hidden in the grass, but even the king; so that above the waving green surface could be seen only the white palanquin, which moved forward like a launch on a lake. after an hour's journey, on a dry, not high elevation, they chanced upon gigantic thistles having stems as thick as the trunk of a tree and flowers the size of a man's head. on the sides of some mountains which from a distance appeared barren they saw furze-bushes about twenty-six feet high. other plants which in europe belong to the smallest varieties assumed here proportions corresponding to the thistles and furze-bushes; and gigantic, isolated trees rose above the jungle, looking like churches. particularly prominent were fig-trees, called "daro," whose weeping boughs, touching the ground and changing into new trunks, covered immense spaces, so that each tree formed as it were a separate grove. this region, from a distance, seemed like one forest; nearer, however, it appeared that the great trees grew a dozen or even some score paces apart. in the northern direction very few of them could be seen and the region assumed the character of a mountainous steppe, covered with an even jungle over which rose only umbrella-like acacias. the grass there was more greenish, shorter, and evidently better for pasturage, for nell from the king's back and stas from heights on which he rode, saw far greater herds of antelopes than up to that time they had met elsewhere. the animals sometimes grazed alone and at times mingled together; gnus, cobs, ariels, antelope-cows, hartbeests, springboks, and great kudus. zebras and giraffes also were not lacking. the herds, at the sight of the caravan, stopped feeding, raised their heads, and pricking their ears, gazed at the white palanquin with extraordinary amazement, after which in a moment they scampered away, and having run between ten and twenty paces they again stood still, staring at this object unknown to them, until, having gratified their curiosity, they began to graze calmly. from time to time a rhinoceros started up suddenly before the caravan with a crash and in a rage, but in spite of its impetuous nature and its readiness to attack everything which comes within range of its vision, it ran away shamefully at the sight of the king, whom only the commands of stas restrained from pursuit. an african elephant detests a rhinoceros, and if he finds its fresh tracks, trusting to superior strength, he follows until he finds his adversary and commences a combat in which the rhinoceros is almost always the victim. it was not easy for the king, who undoubtedly was already responsible for the death of many, to renounce this habit, but now he was so tame and was so accustomed to regard stas as his master, that hearing his voice and observing the threatening look in his eyes, he dropped his uplifted trunk and walked ahead quietly. stas did not lack a desire to witness a fight between giants, but he feared for nell. if the elephant started on a full run, the palanquin might be wrecked, and what is worse, the huge beast might bump it against a bough, and then nell's life would be in terrible danger. stas knew from descriptions of hunts which he had read in port said that the tiger-hunters in india fear, more than the tigers, that the elephant in a panic or in pursuit may dash the howdah against a tree. finally, the full run of the giant is so heavy that no one without impairment of his health could long endure such rides. on the other hand, the presence of the king removed a multitude of dangers. the malignant and bold buffaloes, which they met that day bound for the little lake at which all the animals of the vicinity gathered at evening, also scampered away at sight of him and, making a circuit of the whole lake, drank on the other side. at night the king, with one hind leg tied to a tree, guarded the tent in which nell slept. this was a watch so secure that though stas ordered a fire to be built, he regarded the erection of a zareba as a superfluous precaution, though he knew that the lions would not be missing in a region abounding with such numerous herds of antelopes. in fact, it happened that very night that some lions began to roar among the gigantic junipers* [*junipers in the karamojo mountains in abyssinia attain the height of one hundred and sixty feet. see elisée reclus.] growing on the hillsides. notwithstanding the blazing fire the lions, allured by the odor of horses, drew nearer to the camp; but, when the king became tired of hearing their voices and suddenly, amid the stillness, his threatening, thunder-like clarion tones resounded, they hushed as though abashed, apparently understanding that with such an individual it was best not to have any direct dealings. the children slept excellently the balance of the night, and only at daybreak did they proceed upon their further journey. but for stas anxiety and worry again began. in the first place, he perceived that they were traveling slowly and that they could not make more than six miles a day. proceeding in this manner they would be able indeed to reach the abyssinian frontier after a month, but as stas was determined to follow linde's advice in every respect, and linde had positively claimed that they would not be able to go through to abyssinia, there remained only the road to the ocean. but according to the calculation of the swiss they were over six hundred and twenty miles from the ocean, and that in a direct line; then mombasa being situated farther south, the goal was still further; therefore, the entire journey would require over three months. with alarm stas thought that it would be three months of excessive heat, toil, and dangers from negro tribes which they might encounter. they were still in a desolate country from which the population had been driven by the smallpox and news of the dervish raids; but africa, on the whole, is quite populous, so sooner or later they must reach localities inhabited by unknown races, ruled usually by savage and cruel petty kings. it was an uncommon task to extricate one's self with life and liberty from such difficulties. stas relied simply upon this: that if he chanced upon the wahima people, he would drill a few tens of warriors in shooting, and afterwards induce them by great promises to accompany him to the ocean. but kali had no idea where the wahimas lived; neither could linde, who had heard something of the tribe, indicate the way to them, nor could he designate specifically the locality occupied by them. linde had mentioned some great lake, of which he knew only from narratives, and kali contended with positiveness that one side of that lake, which he called basso-narok, was occupied by the wahimas, and the other by the samburus. now stas was troubled by this: that in the geography of africa, which in the school in port said was taught very thoroughly, there was no mention made of such a lake. if kali only had spoken of it, he would have assumed that it was victoria nyanza, but linde could not err for he had just come from victoria, northward, along the karamojo mountains, and, from reports of natives of those mountains, he had come to the conclusion that this mysterious lake was situated further east and north. stas did not know what to think of it all; he feared, however, that he might not chance upon the wahimas at the lake; he feared also the savage tribes, the waterless jungle, the insurmountable mountains, the tsetse flies which destroy animals; he feared the sleeping sickness, the fever for nell, the heat, and that immeasurable expanse which still separated them from the ocean. but after leaving mount linde, naught else remained to do than to go ahead continually eastward. linde indeed had said that this journey was beyond the strength of an experienced and energetic traveler, but stas had already acquired a great deal of experience, and as to energy, why, as nell was concerned, he determined to use as much of it as might be necessary. in the meantime it was essential to spare the strength of the little girl; so he decided to travel only from six until ten o'clock in the forenoon, and to make the second march from three to six in the afternoon only in case that at the first stopping place there was no water. but in the meantime, as the rain fell during the massica quite copiously, they found water everywhere. the little lakes, formed by the downpours in the valleys, were still well filled, and from the mountains flowed here and there streams, pouring crystalline, cool water in which bathing was excellent and at the same time absolutely safe, for crocodiles live only in the greater waters in which fish, which form their usual food, are to be found. stas, however, did not permit the little girl to drink crude water as he had inherited from linde a filter whose action always filled kali and mea with amazement. both seeing how the filter, immerged in a turbid, whitish liquid, admitted to the reservoir only pure and translucent water, lay down with laughter and slapped their knees with the palms of their hands in sign of surprise and joy. on the whole, the journey at the beginning progressed easily. they had from linde considerable supplies of coffee, tea, sugar, bouillon, various preserves, and all kinds of medicine. stas did not have to save his packs for there were more of them than they could take along; they did not lack also various implements, weapons of all calibers, and sky-rockets, which on encountering negroes might prove very useful. the country was fertile; game, therefore fresh meat, was everywhere in abundance, likewise fruit. here and there in the low lands they chanced upon marshes, but still covered with water, therefore not infecting the air with their noxious exhalations. on the table-land there were none of the mosquitoes which inoculate the blood with fever. the heat from ten o'clock in the morning became unbearable but the little travelers stopped during the so-called "white hours" in the deep shade of great trees, through the dense foliage of which not a ray of the sun could penetrate. perfect health also favored nell, stas, and the negroes. xvii on the fifth day stas rode with nell on the king, for they had chanced upon a wide belt of acacias, growing so densely that the horses could move only on a path beaten down by the elephant. the hour was early, the morning radiant and dewy. the children conversed about the journey and the fact that each day brought them nearer to the ocean and to their fathers, for whom both continually longed. this, from the moment of their abduction from fayûm, was the inexhaustible subject of all their conversations, which always moved them to tears. and they incessantly repeated in a circle that their papas thought that they already were dead and both were grieving and in spite of hope were despatching arabs to khartûm for news while they were now far away, not only from khartûm but from fashoda, and after five days would be still farther until finally they would reach the ocean, or perhaps before that time, some kind of place from which they could send despatches. the only person in the whole caravan who knew what still awaited them was stas;--nell, on the other hand, was most profoundly convinced that there was nothing in the world which "stes" could not accomplish and she was quite certain that he would conduct her to the coast. so many times, anticipating events, she pictured to herself in her little head what would happen when the first news of them arrived and, chirping like a little bird, related it to stas. "our papas are sitting," she said, "in port said and weeping, when in comes a boy with a despatch. what is it? my papa or your papa opens it and looks at the signatures and reads 'stas and nell.' then they will rejoice! then they will start up to prepare to meet us! then there will be joy in the whole house and our papas will rejoice and everybody will rejoice and they will praise you and they will come and i shall hug tightly papa's neck, and after that we shall always be--together and--" and it ended in this: that her chin commenced to quiver, the beautiful eyes changed into two fountains, and in the end she leaned her head on stas' arm and wept from sorrow, longing, and joy at the thought of the future meeting. and stas, allowing his imagination to roam into the future, divined that his father would be proud of him; that he would say to him: "you behaved as became a pole;" and intense emotion possessed him and in his heart was bred a longing, ardor, and courage as inflexible as steel. "i must," he said to himself, "rescue nell. i must live to see that moment." and at such moments it seemed to him that there were no dangers which he was not able to overcome nor obstacles which he could not surmount. but it was yet far to the final victory. in the meantime they were making their way through the acacia grove. the long thorns of these trees even made white marks upon the king's hide. finally the grove became thinner and across the branches of the scattered trees could be seen in the distance a green jungle. stas, notwithstanding that the heat was very oppressive, slipped out of the palanquin and sat on the elephant's neck to see whether there were any herds of antelopes or zebras within view, for he wished to replenish his supply of meat. in fact, on the right side he espied a herd of ariels, composed of a few head, and among them two ostriches, but when they passed the last clump of trees and the elephant turned to the left, a different sight struck the eyes of the boy. at the distance of about a third of a mile he observed a large manioc field and at the border of the field between ten and twenty black forms apparently engaged at work in the field. "negroes!" he exclaimed, turning to nell. and his heart began to beat violently. for a while, he hesitated as to whether he should turn back and hide again in the acacias, but it occurred to him that, sooner or later, he would have to meet the natives in populated districts and enter into relations with them, and that the fate of the whole traveling party might depend upon how those relations were formed; so, after brief reflection, he guided the elephant towards the field. at the same moment kali approached and, pointing his hand at a clump of trees, said: "great master! that is a negro village and there are women working at the manioc. shall i ride to them?" "we will ride together," stas answered, "and then you shall tell them that we come as friends." "i know what to tell them, master," exclaimed the young negro with great self-assurance. and turning the horses towards the workers, he placed the palms of his hands around his lips and began to shout: "yambo, he yambo sana!" at this sound, the women engaged in hoeing the manioc field started up suddenly and stood as if thunderstruck, but this lasted only the twinkling of an eye, for afterwards, flinging away in alarm the hoes and baskets, they began to run away, screaming, to the trees amidst which the village was concealed. the little travelers approached slowly and calmly. in the thicket resounded the yelling of some hundred voices, after which silence fell. it was interrupted finally by the hollow but loud rumble of a drum, which did not cease even for a moment. it was evidently a signal of the warriors for battle, for three hundred of them suddenly emerged from the thicket. all stood in a long row before the village. stas stopped the king at the distance of one hundred paces and began to gaze at them. the sun illuminated their well-shaped forms, wide breasts, and powerful arms. they were armed with bows and spears. around their thighs some had short skirts of heath, and some of monkey skin. their heads were adorned with ostrich and parrot feathers, or great scalps torn off baboons' skulls. they appeared warlike and threatening, but they stood motionless and in silence, for their amazement was simply unbounded and subdued the desire for fighting. all eyes were fastened upon the king, on the white palanquin, and the white man sitting on his neck. nevertheless, an elephant was not an unknown animal to them. on the contrary, they continually live in dread of elephants, whole herds of which destroy at night their manioc fields as well as banana and doom-palm plantations. as the spears and arrows do not pierce the elephant's hide, the poor negroes fight the depredators with the help of fire, with the aid of cries imitating a cockerel's crow, by digging pits, and constructing traps made of the trunks of trees. but that an elephant should become slave of man and permit one to sit on his neck was something which none of them ever saw before, and it never entered into the mind of any of them that anything like that was possible. so the spectacle which was presented to them passed so far beyond their understanding and imagination that they did not know what to do: whether to fight or to run where their eyes should lead them, though it would result in leaving them to the caprice of fate. so in uncertainty, alarm, and amazement they only whispered to each other: "oh, mother! what creatures are these which have come to us, and what awaits us at their hands?" but at this kali, having ridden within a spear's throw of them, stood up in the stirrups and began to shout: "people! people! listen to the voice of kali, the son of fumba, the mighty king of the wahimas on the shores of bassa-narok. oh listen, listen, and if you understand his speech, pay heed to each word that he utters." "we understand," rang the answer of three hundred mouths. "let your king stand forth; let him tell his name and let him open his ears and lips that he may hear better." "m'rua! m'rua!" numerous voices began to cry. m'rua stepped in front of the ranks, but not more than three paces. he was a negro, already old, tall and powerfully built, but evidently did not suffer from too much courage, as the calves of his legs quivered so that he had to implant the edge of a spear in the ground and support himself on the shaft in order to stand on his legs. after his example, the other warriors also drove the spears into the ground in sign that they wanted to hear peaceably the words of the arrival. and kali again raised his voice. "m'rua, and you, m'rua's men, you heard that to you speaks the son of the king of the wahimas, whose cows cover as thickly the mountains around the bassa-narok as the ants cover the body of a slain giraffe. and what says kali, the son of the king of wahima? lo, he announces to you the great and happy tidings that there comes to your village the 'good mzimu.'" after which he yelled still louder: "that is so! the good mzimu! ooo!" in the stillness which ensued could be perceived the great sensation which kali's words created. the wave of warriors surged back and forth, for some, impelled by curiosity, advanced a few paces, while others retreated in fear. m'rua supported himself with both hands on the spear--and for some time the hollow silence continued. only after a while a murmur passed through the ranks and individual voices began to repeat "mzimu! mzimu!" and here and there resounded shouts of "yancig! yancig!" expressive at the same time of homage and welcome. but kali's voice again predominated over the murmurs and shouts: "look and rejoice! lo, the 'good mzimu' sits there in that white hut on the back of the great elephant and the great elephant obeys her as a slave obeys a master and like a child its mother! oh, neither your fathers nor you have seen anything like that." "we have not seen! yancig! yancig!" and the eyes of all warriors were directed at the "hut," or rather at the palanquin. and kali, who during the religious instructions on mount linde had learned that faith moves mountains, was deeply convinced that the prayer of the little white "bibi" could procure everything from god; so he spoke thus further and in perfect sincerity: "listen! listen! the 'good mzimu' is riding on an elephant in the direction in which the sun rises, beyond the mountains out of the waters; there the 'good mzimu' will tell the great spirit to send you clouds, and those clouds during a drought will water with rain your millet, your manioc, your bananas, and the grass in the jungle, in order that you may have plenty to eat and that your cows shall have good fodder and shall give thick and fat milk. do you want to have plenty of food and milk--oh, men?" "he! we do, we do!" "and the 'good mzimu' will tell the great spirit to send to you the wind, which will blow away from your village that sickness which changes the body into a honey-comb. do you want him to blow it away--oh, men?" "he! let him blow it away!" "and the great spirit at the prayer of the 'good mzimu' will protect you from attacks and slavery and from depredations in your fields and from the lion and from the panther and from the snake and from the locust--" "let her do that." "so, listen yet and look who sits before the hut between the ears of the terrible elephant. lo, there sits bwana kubwa, the great and mighty white master, whom the elephant fears!" "he!" "who has thunder-bolts in his hand and kills with it bad men--" "he!" "who kills lions--" "he!" "who lets loose fiery snakes--" "he!" "who crushes rocks--" "he!" "who, however, will do you no harm, if you will honor the 'good mzimu.'" "yancig! yancig!" "and if you will bring to him an abundance of dry flour from bananas, eggs of chickens, fresh milk, and honey." "yancig! yancig!" "so approach and fall on your faces before the 'good mzimu!'" m'rua and his warriors started and, not ceasing to "yancig" for a moment, advanced between ten and twenty paces, but they approached cautiously, for a superstitious fear of the "mzimu" and downright terror before the elephant impeded their steps. the sight of saba startled them anew as they mistook him for a "wobo," that is, a big, yellowish-brown leopard, which lives in that region as well as in southern abyssinia, and whom the natives fear more than a lion, for it prefers human flesh above all other, and with unheard-of daring attacks even armed men. they quieted, however, seeing that the little obese negro held the terrible "wobo" on a rope. but they were acquiring a still greater idea of the power of the "good mzimu," as well as of the white master, and, staring now at the elephant then at saba, they whispered to each other: "if they bewitched even the 'wobo' who in the world can oppose them?" but the most solemn moment did not come until stas, turning to nell, first bowed profoundly and afterwards drew aside the curtain-like walls of the palanquin and exhibited to the eyes of the crowd the "good mzimu." m'rua and all the warriors fell on their faces so that their bodies formed a long, living deck. not one of them dared to move, and fear prevailed in all hearts all the more when the king, either at stas' order or of his own volition, raised his trunk and began to trumpet strongly; and after his example saba emitted the deepest bass of which he was capable. then from all breasts issued, resembling entreating groans, "aka! aka! aka!" and this continued until kali again addressed them. "oh, m'rua, and you, children of m'rua! you have paid homage to the 'good mzimu'; therefore rise, gaze, and fill your eyes, for whoever does that gains the blessing of the great spirit. drive away, also, fear from your breasts and bellies and know that wherever the 'good mzimu' sojourns, human blood cannot be shed." at these words, and particularly as a result of the announcement that in the presence of the "good mzimu" no one can meet death, m'rua rose, and after him the other warriors, and began to gaze, bashfully but eagerly at the kind divinity. indeed, they would have to acknowledge, if kali again should ask them about it, that neither their fathers nor they ever had beheld anything like it. for their eyes were accustomed to monstrous figures of idols, made of wood and shaggy cocoanuts, and now there appeared before them on an elephant's back a bright divinity, gentle, sweet, and smiling, resembling a white bird, and at the same time a white flower. so, too, their fears passed away, their breasts breathed freely; their thick lips began to grin and their hands were involuntarily stretched out towards the charming phenomenon. "oh! yancig! yancig! yancig!" nevertheless, stas, who was watching everything with the closest possible attention, observed that one of the negroes, wearing a pointed cap of rats' skin, slunk away from the ranks immediately after kali's last words and, crawling like a snake in the grass, turned to an isolated hut standing apart, beyond the enclosure, but surrounded likewise by a high stockade bound by climbing plants. in the meantime the "good mzimu," though greatly embarrassed by the role of a divinity, at stas' request stretched out her little hand and began to greet the negroes. the black warriors watched with joy in their eyes each movement of that little hand, firmly believing it possessed powerful "charms," which would protect them and secure them against a multitude of disasters. some, striking their breasts and hips, said: "oh, mother, now it will be well--for us and our cows." m'rua, now entirely emboldened, drew near the elephant and prostrated himself once more before the "good mzimu" and after that, bowing to stas, spoke in the following manner: "would the great master, who leads the white divinity on the elephant, be pleased to eat a small piece of m'rua, and would he consent that m'rua should eat a small piece of him, in order that they should become brothers, among whom there is no falsehood and treachery?" kali at once translated these words, but perceiving from stas' countenance that he did not have the slightest desire to eat a small piece of m'rua, turned to the old negro and said: "oh, m'rua! do you really think that the white master, whom the elephant fears, who holds thunderbolts in his hands, who kills lions, to whom the 'wobo' wags its tail, who lets loose fiery snakes and crushes rocks, could form a blood brotherhood with a mere king? reflect, oh, m'rua, whether the great spirit would not punish you for your audacity, and whether it is not enough of glory for you if you eat a small piece of kali, the son of fumba, the ruler of the wahimas, and if kali, the son of fumba, eats a small piece of you?" "are you not a slave?" m'rua asked. "the great master did not seize kali, neither did he buy him; he only saved his life; therefore kali is conducting the 'good mzimu' and the master to the country of the wahimas in order that the wahimas and fumba should pay honors to them and give them great gifts." "let it be as you say and let m'rua eat a small piece of kali and kali a small piece of m'rua." "let it be so," repeated the warriors. "where is the fetish-man?" the king asked. "where is the fetish-man? where is the fetish-man? where is kamba?" numerous voices began to call. then something occurred which might change entirely the state of affairs, embroil the friendly relations, and make the negroes enemies of the newly arrived guests. from the hut standing apart and surrounded by a separate stockade, there suddenly resounded an infernal din. it was like the roar of a lion, like thunder, like the rumbling of a drum, like the laughter of a hyena, the howling of a wolf, and like the shrill creaking of rusty iron hinges. the king hearing these dreadful sounds, began to trumpet, saba barked, the donkey, on which nasibu sat, brayed. the warriors leaped as if scalded, and pulled the spears out of the ground. confusion ensued. stas' ears were assailed by the uneasy shouts of: "our mzimu! our mzimu!" the esteem and favor, with which they looked at the arrivals, vanished in one moment. the eyes of the savages began to cast suspicious and hostile glances. threatening murmurs began to rise among the crowd and the horrible noise in the isolated hut increased more and more. kali was terrified and, approaching stas quickly, said in a voice broken with emotion: "master! the fetish-man has awakened the wicked mzimu, who fears that he will lose gifts and is roaring in a rage. master, quiet the fetish-man and the wicked mzimu with great gifts, for otherwise these men will turn against us." "quiet them?" stas asked. and suddenly he was possessed by anger at the perversity and greed of the fetish-man; and the unexpected danger roused him to the bottom of his soul. his swarthy face assumed the same expression which it had when he shot gebhr, chamis, and the bedouins. his eyes glittered ominously; his lips were compressed and his cheeks paled. "ah! i'll quiet them!" he said. and without any reflection he drove the elephant towards the hut. kali, not desiring to remain alone among the negroes, ran after him. from the breasts of the savage warriors there came a shout--it was not known whether of alarm or of rage, but, before they recovered their wits, the stockade under the pressure of the elephant's head crashed and tumbled; after that the clay walls of the hut crumbled and amid dust the roof flew up in the air; and after a while m'rua and his men saw the black trunk raised high and at the end of the trunk the fetish-man, kamba. and stas, observing on the floor a big drum made of the hollowed trunk of a tree with monkey skin stretched over it, ordered kali to hand it to him and, returning, stopped directly among the amazed warriors. "men!" he said in a loud voice, "it is not your mzimu who roars; it is this rogue who makes the noise on the drum to wheedle gifts out of you, and whom you fear like children!" saying this, he seized the rope drawn through the dried-up skin of the drum and began to twirl it around with all his strength. the same sounds which had previously so startled the negroes resounded now, and even more shrilly, as they were not muffled by the walls of the hut. "oh, how stupid are m'rua and his children!" shouted kali. stas gave the drum back to kali while the latter began to make a noise with it with such zeal that for a while a word could not be heard. when finally he had enough, he flung the drum at m'rua's feet. "this is your mzimu," he exclaimed, with great laughter. after which he began with the usual negro exuberance of words to address the warriors; at which he was not at all sparing of jeers at them and at m'rua. he declared to them, pointing at kamba, that "that thief in the cap made of rat's skin" cheated them through many rainy and dry seasons and they fed him on beans, flesh of kids, and honey. is there another king and nation as stupid in the world? they believed in the power of the old deceiver and in his charms, and look now, how that great fetish-man hangs from the elephant's trunk and is crying "aka!" to arouse the pity of the white master. where is his power? where are his charms? why does not any wicked mzimu roar in his defense? ah! what is this, their mzimu? a clout of monkey skin and piece of wood hollowed through decay which the elephant will tread to pieces. among the wahimas, neither the women nor the children would be afraid of such a mzimu, and m'rua and his men fear him. there is only one genuine mzimu and one really great and powerful master. let them pay honors to them; let them bring as many gifts as they possibly can, as otherwise calamities, of which they hitherto have not heard, will befall them. for the negroes even these words were unnecessary as the fetish-man, together with his wicked mzimu, appeared so vastly weaker than the new divinity and the white master, that it sufficed most fully to make them desert him and load him with contempt. so they commenced anew to "yancig" with even greater humility and haste. but as they were angry at themselves because they had allowed kamba to cheat them for so many years, they wanted, by all means, to kill him. m'rua himself begged stas to allow him to bind and keep him until he could devise a sufficiently cruel death. nell, however, was determined to spare his life, and as kali had announced that wherever the "good mzimu" sojourns human blood cannot be shed, stas consented only to the expulsion of the hapless fetish-man from the village. kamba, who expected that he would die in the most ingeniously devised tortures, fell on his face before the "good mzimu" and, blubbering, thanked her for saving his life. from beyond the stockade women and children poured, for the news of the arrival of the extraordinary guests had already spread over the whole village, and the desire to see the white mzimu overcame their terror. stas and nell for the first time saw a settlement of real savages, which even the arabs had not succeeded in reaching. the dress of these negroes consisted only of heath or skins tied around their hips; all were tattooed. men as well as women had perforated ears, and in the opening, chunks of wood or bone so big that the expanded lobes reached the shoulders. in the lower lips they carried "peleles," that is, wooden or bony rings as large as saucers. the more distinguished warriors and their wives had around their throats collars of iron or brass wire so high and stiff that they could barely move their heads. they apparently belonged to the shilluk tribe, which extends far into the east, for kali and mea understood their speech excellently and stas partly. they did not have, however, limbs as long as their kindred living on the overflowing banks of the nile; they were broader in the shoulders, not so tall, and generally less like wading birds. the children looked like fleas and, not being yet disfigured by "peleles," were, without comparison, better looking than the older people. the women, having first from a distance sated their eyes with looking at the "good mzimu," began to vie with the warriors in bringing gifts to her, consisting of kids, chickens, eggs, black beans, and beer brewed of millet. this continued until stas stopped the afflux of supplies; as he paid for them liberally with beads and colored percale, and nell distributed between ten and twenty looking-glasses inherited from linde, immense joy reigned in the whole village; and around the tent, in which the little travelers sought shelter, shouts, happy and full of enthusiasm, continually resounded. after that, the warriors performed a war-dance in honor of the guests and fought a sham battle, and finally they proceeded to form a blood brotherhood between kali and m'rua. owing to the absence of kamba, who for this ceremony was usually indispensable, his place was taken by an old negro sufficiently conversant with the adjuration. the latter, having killed a kid and extracted its liver, divided it into fair-sized morsels; after which he began to turn a kind of spinning-wheel with his hand and foot and, gazing now at kali and then at m'rua, addressed them in a solemn voice: "kali, son of fumba, do you desire to eat a piece of m'rua, the son of m'kuli, and you, m'rua, son of m'kuli, do you desire to eat a piece of kali, the son of fumba?" "we do," announced the future brethren. "do you desire that the heart of kali should be the heart of m'rua and the heart of m'rua the heart of kali?" "we do." "and the hands and the spears and the cows?" "and the cows!" "and everything which each one possesses and will possess?" "and what he possesses and will possess." "and that there should not be between you falsehood, nor treachery, nor hatred?" "nor hatred!" "and that one shall not pilfer from the other?" "never!" "and that you shall be brethren?" "yes!" the wheel turned more and more rapidly. the warriors, gathered around, watched its revolutions with ever-increasing interest. "ao!" exclaimed the aged negro, "if one of you deceives the other by lies, if he betrays him, if he steals from him, if he poisons him, may he be accursed!" "may he be accursed!" repeated all the warriors. "and if he is a liar and is plotting treason, let him not swallow the blood of his brother, and let him spit it out before our eyes." "oh, before our eyes!" "and let him die!" "let him die!" "let him be torn to pieces by a wobo!" "wobo!" "or a lion!" "or a lion!" "may he be trampled upon by an elephant and a rhinoceros and a buffalo!" "oh--and a buffalo!" repeated the chorus. "may he be bit by a snake!" "snake!" "and may his tongue become black!" "black!" "and his eyes sink to the back of his head!" "to the back of his head!" "and may he walk on his heels upward!" "ha! on his heels upward!" not only stas but kali bit his lips in order not to burst out laughing. in the meantime adjurations were repeated, more and more horrible, and the wheel kept spinning so quickly that the eyes could not keep pace with its whirl. this continued until the old negro entirely lost his strength and breath. then he squatted on the ground, and for some time nodded his head in both directions in silence. after a while, however, he rose and taking a knife, cut with it the skin at kali's shoulder and smearing a piece of kid's liver with his blood, shoved it into m'rua's mouth; the other piece smeared in the king's blood he shoved into kali's mouth. both swallowed so quickly that their wind-pipes began to play, and their eyes bulged out; after which they grabbed hold of hands in sign of loyal and everlasting friendship. the warriors on the other hand began to shout with glee: "both swallowed; neither spat it out; therefore they are sincere and there is no treachery between them." and stas in his soul thanked kali that he had acted as his proxy at this ceremony, for he felt that at the swallowing of "a piece" of m'rua he undoubtedly would have given proof of insincerity and treachery. from that moment, however, the little travelers were not threatened on the part of the savages with deceit or any unexpected attacks; on the contrary they were treated with a hospitality and an esteem almost god-like. this esteem increased when stas, after making an observation on a barometer, a great heritage from linde, predicted rain, and when rain fell that very same day quite copiously, as though the massica* [*the spring rainy season, which had just passed.] desired to shake off the rest of its supplies upon the earth, the negroes were convinced that this downpour was the gift of the "good mzimu" and their gratitude to nell was unbounded. stas joked with her about this, saying that since she had become a negro divinity he would proceed alone on his further journey and leave her in m'rua's village, where the negroes would erect for her a chapel of ivory, and would bring beans and bananas to her. but nell had no uncertainty, and, standing on her little toes, whispered in his ear, according to her custom, only four words: "you won't leave me!" after which she began to leap from joy, saying that since the negroes were so kind, the whole journey to the ocean would be easy and quick. this happened in front of the tent and in the presence of the crowd, so old m'rua, seeing a jumping mzimu, began at once to leap as high as he could with his crooked shanks in the conviction that through that act he gave proof of his piety. in emulation of their superior "the ministers" started to leap, and after them the warriors, and later the women and children; in a word, the whole village for some time was jumping as if all had lost their wits. this example given by the divinity amused stas so much that he lay down and roared with laughter. nevertheless, during the night-time he rendered to the pious king and his subjects a real and enduring service, for when the elephants made depredations upon their banana field he drove towards them on the king and shot a few rockets among the herd. the panic caused by the "fiery snakes" surpassed even his expectation. the huge beasts, seized by a frenzy of terror, filled the jungle with a roar and the noise of hoofs, and, escaping blindly, tumbled down and trampled upon one another. the mighty king chased after his flying companions with extraordinary alacrity, not sparing blows of his trunk and tusks. after such a night one could be certain that not an elephant would appear in the banana and doom-palm plantations belonging to the village of old m'rua. in the village great joy also reigned, and the negroes passed the whole night in dancing and drinking beer of millet and palm wine. kali learned from them, however, many important things; it appeared that some of them had heard of some great water lying east and surrounded by mountains. for stas this was proof that the lake, of which no mention was made in the geography which he had studied, actually existed; also, that going in the direction which they had selected, they would finally encounter the wahima people. inferring from the fact that mea's and kali's speech differed very little from m'rua's speech, he came to the conclusion that the name of "wahima" was in all probability the designation of a locality, and that the peoples living on the shores of "bassa-narok" belonged to the great shilluk tribe, which begins on the nile and extends, it is not known how far, to the east. xviii the population of the whole village escorted afar the "good mzimu" and took leave of her with tears, begging vehemently that she would deign to come sometime to m'rua, and to remember his people. stas for some time hesitated whether he should point out to the negroes the ravine in which he had hidden the wares and supplies left by linde, which owing to want of porters he could not take with him, but reflecting that the possession of such treasures might evoke envy and discord among them, awaken covetousness, and embroil the peace of their lives, he abandoned this design, and, instead, shot a big buffalo and left its meat for a farewell feast. the sight of such a large amount of "mama" also really delighted them. for the following three days the caravan again proceeded through a desolate country. the days were scorching, but, owing to the high altitude of the region, the nights were so cold that stas ordered mea to cover nell with two shaggy coverlets. they now often crossed mountainous ravines, sometimes barren and rocky, sometimes covered with vegetation so compact that they could force their way through it only with the greatest difficulty. at the brinks of these ravines they saw big apes and sometimes lions and panthers. stas killed one of them at the entreaty of kali, who afterwards dressed himself in its hide in order that the negroes might at once know that they had to do with a person of royal blood. beyond the ravines, on high table-lands, negro villages again began to appear. some lay near together, some at the distance of a day or two. all were surrounded by high stockades for protection against lions, and these were so entwined with creepers that even close at hand they looked like clumps of a virgin forest. only from the smoke rising from the middle of the village could one perceive that people dwelt there. the caravan was everywhere received more or less as at m'rua's village; that is, at first with alarm and distrust and afterwards with admiration, amazement, and esteem. once only did it happen that the whole village, at the sight of the elephant, saba, the horses, and the white people, ran away to an adjacent forest, so that there was no one to converse with. nevertheless, not a spear was aimed against the travelers, for negroes, until mohammedanism fills their souls with cruelties and hatred against infidels, are rather timid and gentle. so it most frequently happened that kali ate a "piece" of the local king and the local king a "piece" of kali, after which the relations were of the most friendly character. to the "good mzimu," the negroes furnished evidence of homage and piety in the shape of chickens, eggs, and honey, extracted from wooden logs suspended from the boughs of great trees with the aid of palm ropes. the "great master," the ruler of the elephant, thunder, and fiery snakes, aroused mainly fear, which soon, however, changed into gratitude when they became convinced that his generosity equaled his might. where the villages were closer to one another the arrival of the extraordinary travelers was announced from one village to the other by the beating of drums, for the negroes give notice of everything with the aid of drumming. it happened also that the entire populace would come out to meet them, being well disposed in advance. in one village, numbering one thousand heads, the local ruler, who was fetish-man and king in the same person, consented to show them "the great fetish," which was surrounded by such extraordinary veneration and fear that the people did not dare to approach the ebony chapel, covered with a rhinoceros hide, and make offerings any nearer than fifty paces. the king stated that this fetish not long before fell from the moon, that it was white and had a tail. stas declared that he himself at the command of the "good mzimu" sent it, and in saying that he did not deviate from the truth, for it appeared that the "great fetish" was plainly one of the kites, despatched from mount linde. both children were pleased with the thought that other kites in a suitable wind might fly still further. they determined to fly others from heights in the farther course of time. stas made and sent out one that very same night, which convinced the negroes that the "good mzimu" and the white master also came to earth from the moon, and that they were divinities who could not be served with sufficient humility. but more delightful to stas than these marks of humility and homage was the news that bassa-narok lay only about thirteen days' distance and that the denizens of the village in which they stopped at times received from that direction salt in exchange for doom-palm wine. the local king had even heard of fumba, as the ruler of the people called "doko." kali confirmed this by saying that more distant neighbors so called the wahimas and samburus. less consoling was the news that on the shores of the great water a war was raging, and to go to bassa-narok it was necessary to cross immense, wild mountains and steep ravines, full of rapacious beasts. but stas now did not much heed rapacious beasts, and he preferred mountains, though the wildest, to the low plain country where fever lay in wait for travelers. in high spirits they started. beyond that populous village they came to only one settlement, very wretched and hanging like a nest on the edge of a chasm. after that the foot-hills began, cut rarely by deep fissures. on the east rose a hazy chain of peaks, which from a distance appeared entirely black. this was an unknown region to which they were bound, not knowing what might befall them before they reached fumba's domains. in the highlands which they passed trees were not lacking, but with the exception of dragon-trees and acacias standing alone they stood in clusters, forming small groves. the travelers stopped amid these clumps for refreshment and rest as well as for the abundant shade. amid the trees birds swarmed. various kinds of pigeons, big birds with beaks, which stas called toucans, starlings, turtle-doves, and countless beautiful "bingales" flitted in the foliage or flew from one clump to another, singly and in flocks, changing color like the rainbow. some trees appeared from a distance to be covered with many-colored flowers. nell was particularly charmed by the sight of paradisaical fly-catchers and rather large, black birds, with a crimson lining to the wings, which emitted sounds like a pastoral fife. charming woodpeckers, rosy on top and bright blue beneath, sped in the sun's luster, catching in their flight bees and grasshoppers. on the treetops resounded the screams of the green parrot, and at times there reached them sounds as though of silvery bells, with which the small green-gray birds hidden under adansonia leaves greeted one another. before sunrise and after sunset flocks of native sparrows flew by, so countless that were it not for their twitter and the rustle of their little wings they would be mistaken for clouds. stas assumed that it was their pretty little bills which rang so, while in daytime they were scattered on single clumps. but other birds flying in little flocks, which gave real concerts, filled both children with the greatest surprise and ecstasy. every little flock consisted of five or six females and one male, with glittering metallic feathers. they sat on a single acacia in this particular manner: the male was perched on the top of the tree and the others lower, and after the first notes, which seemed like the tuning of their little throats, the male began a song and the others listened in silence. only when he had finished did they repeat together in a chorus the last refrain of his song. after a brief pause, he resumed and finished, and they again repeated; after this the whole flock flew in a light wavy flight to the nearest acacia and the concert, composed of the soloist and chorus, again resounded in the southern stillness. the children could not listen enough to this. nell, catching the leading tune of the concert, joined with the chorus and warbled in her thin little voice the notes resembling the quickly repeated sound of "tui, tui, tui, twiling-ting! ting!" once the children, following the winged musicians from tree to tree, went away over half a mile from the camp, leaving in it the three negroes, the king, and saba. stas was about to start on a hunting trip and did not want to take saba with him, for fear that his barking might scare away the game. when the little flock finally flew to the last acacia on the other side of a wide ravine, the boy stopped nell and said: "now i will escort you to the king and after that i shall see whether there are any antelopes or zebras in the high jungle, for kali says that the smoked meats will not last longer than two days." "why, i am big now," answered nell, who was always anxious to make it appear that she was not a little child, "so i will return alone. we can see the camp perfectly from here, and the smoke also." "i am afraid that you may stray." "i won't stray. in a high jungle we might stray, but here, see how low the grass is!" "still, something may happen to you." "you yourself said that lions and panthers do not hunt in the daytime. besides, you hear how the king is trumpeting from longing after us. what lion would dare to hunt there where the sound of the king reaches?" and she began to importune: "stas, dear, i will go alone, like a grown-up." stas hesitated for a while but finally assented. the camp and smoke really could be seen. the king, who longed for nell, trumpeted every little while. in the low grass there was no danger of going astray, and as to lions, panthers, and hyenas, there plainly could be no talk of them as these animals seek prey during the night. the boy after all knew that nothing would afford the little maid greater pleasure than if he acted as though he did not regard her as a little child. "very well," he said, "go alone, but go directly, and do not tarry on the way." "and may i pluck just those flowers?" she asked, pointing at a cusso bush, covered with an immense number of rosy flowers. "you may." saying this, he turned her about, pointed out to her once more for greater certainty the clump of trees from which the smoke of the camp issued and from which resounded the king's trumpeting, after which he plunged into the high jungle growing on the brink of the ravine. but he had not gone a hundred paces when he was seized by uneasiness. "why, it was stupid on my part," he thought, "to permit nell to walk alone in africa. stupid, stupid. she is such a child! i ought not to leave her for a step unless the king is with her. who knows what may happen! who knows whether under that rosy bush some kind of snake is not lying! big apes can leap out of the ravine and carry her away from me or bite her. god forbid! i committed a terrible folly." and his uneasiness changed into anger at himself, and at the same time into a terrible fear. not reflecting any longer, he turned around as if stung by a sudden evil presentiment. walking hurriedly, he held the rifle ready to fire, with that great dexterity which he had acquired through daily hunting, and advanced amid the thorny mimosas without any rustle, exactly like a panther when stealing to a herd of antelopes at night. after a while he shoved his head out of the high underwood, glanced about and was stupefied. nell stood under a cusso bush with her little hand outstretched; the rosy flowers, which she had dropped in terror, lay at her feet, and from the distance of about twenty paces a big tawny-gray beast was creeping towards her amid the low grass. stas distinctly saw his green eyes fastened upon the little maid's face, which was as white as chalk, his narrow head with flattened ears, his shoulder-blades raised upward on account of his lurking and creeping posture, his long body and yet longer tail, the end of which he moved with a light, cat-like motion. one moment more one spring and it would be all over with nell. at this sight the boy, hardened and inured to danger, in the twinkling of an eye understood that if he did not regain self-command, if he did not muster courage, if he shot badly and only wounded the assailant, even though heavily, the little maid must perish. but he could master himself to that degree that under the influence of these thoughts his hands and limbs suddenly became calm like steel springs. with one glance of the eye he detected a dark spot in the neighborhood of the beast's ear,--with one light motion he directed the barrel of the rifle at it and fired. the report of the shot, nell's scream, and a short, shrill bleat resounded at the same moment. stas jumped towards nell, and covering her with his own body, he aimed again at the assailant. but the second shot was entirely unnecessary, for the dreadful cat lay like a rag, flattened out, with nose close to the ground and claws wedged in the grass--almost without a quiver. the bursting bullet had torn out the back of its head and the nape of its neck. above its eyes, gory, torn, white convolutions of its brain oozed out. and the little hunter and nell stood for some time, gazing now at the slain beast, then at each other, not being able to utter a word. but after that something strange happened. now this same stas, who a moment before would have astonished the most experienced hunter in the whole world by his calmness and coolness, suddenly became pale; his limbs began to tremble, tears flowed from his eyes, and afterwards he seized his head with the palms of his hands and began to repeat: "oh, nell! nell! if i had not returned!" and he was swayed by such consternation, such belated despair, that every fiber within him quivered as if he had a fever. after an unheard-of exertion of his will and all the powers of his soul and body a moment of weakness and relaxation had come. before his eyes was the picture of the dreadful beast, resting with blood-stained muzzle in some dark cave and tearing nell's body to pieces. and of course, this could have happened and would have happened if he had not returned. one minute, one second more and it would have been too late. this thought he plainly could not banish. finally it ended in this, that nell, recovering from her fear and alarm, had to comfort him. the little upright soul threw both her little arms around his neck and, weeping also, began to call to him loudly, as if she wanted to arouse him from slumber. "stas! stas! nothing is the matter with me. see, nothing is the matter with me. stas! stas!" but he came to himself and grew calm only after a long time. immediately after that kali, who heard the shot not far from the camp and knew that the "bwana kubwa" never fired in vain, came leading a horse to carry away the game. the young negro, glancing at the slain beast, suddenly retreated, and his face at once became ashen. "wobo!" he shouted. the children now approached the carcass, already growing rigid. up to that time stas did not have an accurate idea as to what kind of beast of prey had fallen from his shot. at the first glance of the eye it seemed to the boy that it was an exceptionally large serval; nevertheless, after closer examination he saw that it was not, for the slain beast exceeded the dimensions of even a leopard. his tawny skin was strewn with chestnut-hued spots, but his head was narrower than that of a leopard, which made him resemble somewhat a wolf; his legs were higher, paws wider, and his eyes were enormous. one of them was driven to the surface by a bullet, the other still stared at the children, fathomless, motionless, and awful. stas came to the conclusion that this was a species of panther unknown to zoölogy, just as lake bassa-narok was unknown to geography. kali gazed continually with great terror at the beast stretched upon the ground, repeating in a low voice, as if he feared to awaken it: "wobo! the great master killed a wobo!" but stas turned to the little maid, placed his hand on her head, as though he desired definitely to assure himself that the wobo had not carried her away, and then said: "you see, nell. you see that even if you are full-grown, you cannot walk alone through the jungle." "true, stas," answered nell with a penitent mien, "but i can go with you or the king." "tell me how it was? did you hear him draw near?" "no-- only a golden fly flew out of those flowers. so i turned around after it and saw how he crept out of the ravine." "and what then?" "he stood still and began to look at me." "did he look long?" "long, stas. only when i dropped the flowers and guarded myself from him with my hands did he creep towards me." it occurred to stas that if nell were a negress she would have been pounced upon at once, and that in part she owed her preservation to the astonishment of the beast, which seeing before it for the first time a being unknown to it, for a while was uncertain what to do. a chill passed through the boy's bones. "thank god! thank god that i returned!" after which he asked further: "what were you thinking of at that moment?" "i wanted to call you, and--i could not--but--" "but what?" "but i thought that you would protect me--i myself do not know--" saying this she again threw her little arms around his neck, and he began to stroke her tufts of hair. "you are not afraid, now?" "no." "my little mzimu! my mzimu! you see what africa is." "yes, but you will kill every ugly beast?" "i will." both again began to examine closely the rapacious beast. stas, desiring to preserve its skin as a trophy ordered kali to strip it off, but the latter from fear that another wobo might creep out of the ravine begged him not to leave him alone, and to the question whether he feared a wobo more than a lion, said: "a lion roars at night and does not leap over stockades, but a wobo in the white day can leap over a stockade and kill a great many negroes in the middle of the village, and after that he seizes one of them and eats him. against a wobo a spear is no protection, nor a bow, only charms, for a wobo cannot be killed." "nonsense," said stas, "look at this one; is he not well slain?" "the white master kills wobo; the black man cannot kill him," kali replied. it ended in this, that the gigantic cat was tied by a rope to the horse and the horse dragged him to the camp. stas, however, did not succeed in preserving his hide, for the king, who evidently surmised that the wobo wanted to carry off his little lady, fell into such a frenzy of rage that even stas' orders were unable to restrain him. seizing the slain beast with his trunk he tossed it twice into the air; after which he began to strike it against a tree and in the end trampled upon it with his legs and changed it into a shapeless, jelly-like mass. stas succeeded in saving the jaws, which with the remnants of the head he placed on an ant-column on the road, and the ants cleaned the bones in the course of an hour so thoroughly that not an atom of flesh or blood remained. xix four days later stas stopped for a longer rest on a hill somewhat similar to mount linde, but smaller and narrower. that same night saba after a hard battle killed a big male baboon, whom he attacked at a time when the baboon was playing with the remnants of a kite, the second in order of those which they had sent before starting for the ocean. stas and nell, taking advantage of the stay, determined to glue new ones continually, but to fly them only when the monsoon blew from the west to the east. stas placed great reliance upon this, that even if but one of them should fall into european or arabian hands it would undoubtedly attract extraordinary attention and would cause an expedition to be despatched expressly for their rescue. for greater certainty, besides english and french inscriptions he added arabian, which was not difficult for him, as he knew the arabian language perfectly. soon after starting from the resting-place, kali announced that in the mountain chain, which he saw in the east, he recognized some of the peaks which surrounded bassa-narok; nevertheless, he was not always certain, as the mountains assumed different shapes, according to the place from which they were viewed. after crossing a small valley overgrown with cusso bushes and looking like a lake of roses, they chanced upon a hut of lone hunters. there were two negroes in it and one of them was sick, having been bitten by a thread-like worm.* [* filandria medineusis, a worm as thin as thread, and a yard long. its bite sometimes causes gangrene.] but both were so savage and stupid and in addition so terrified by the arrival of the unexpected guests, so certain that they would be murdered, that at first it was impossible to ascertain anything from them. but a few slices of smoked meat unloosened the tongue of the one who was not only sick, but famished, as his companion doled out food to him very stingily. from him, therefore, they learned that about a day's journey away there lay straggling villages, governed by petty kings, who were independent of one another; and afterwards, beyond a steep mountain, the domain of fumba began, extending on the west and south of the great water. when stas heard this, a great load fell off his heart and new courage entered his soul. at any rate, they now were almost on the threshold of the land of the wahimas. it was difficult to foresee how their further journey would progress; nevertheless, the boy in any event could expect that it would not be harder or even longer than that terrible journey from the banks of the nile which they had undergone, thanks to his exceptional resourcefulness, and during which he had saved nell from destruction. he did not doubt that, thanks to kali, the wahimas would receive them with the greatest hospitality and would give every assistance to them. after all, he already well understood the negroes, knew how to act towards them, and was almost certain that, even without kali, he would have been able somehow to take care of himself among them. "do you know," he said to nell, "that we have passed more than one-half of the way from fashoda, and that during the journey which is still before us we may meet very savage negroes, but now will not encounter any dervishes." "i prefer negroes," the little maid replied. "yes, while you pass as a goddess. i was kidnapped from fayûm with a little lady whose name was nell, and now am conducting some kind of mzimu. i shall tell my father and mr. rawlinson that they never should call you anything else." her eyes began to sparkle and smile: "perhaps we may see our papas in mombasa." "perhaps. if it were not for that war on the shores of bassa-narok, we would be there sooner. too bad that fumba should be engaged in one at this time!" saying this, he nodded at kali. "kali, did the sick negro hear of the war?" "he heard. it is a big war, very big--fumba with samburus." "well, what will happen? how shall we get through the samburu country?" "the samburus will run away before the great master, before the king and before kali." "and before you?" "and before kali, because kali has a rifle which thunders and kills." stas began to meditate upon the part which would devolve upon him in the conflict between the wahima and samburu tribes and determined to conduct his affairs in such a manner as not to retard his journey. he understood that their arrival would be an entirely unexpected event which would at once assure fumba of a superiority. accordingly it was necessary only to make the most of a victory. in the villages, of which the sick hunter spoke, they derived new information about the war. the reports were more and more accurate, but unfavorable for fumba. the little travelers learned that he was conducting a defensive campaign, and that the samburus under the command of their king, named mamba, occupied a considerable expanse of the wahima country and had captured a multitude of cows. the villagers said that the war was raging principally on the southern border of the great water where on a wide and high rock king fumba's great "boma"* [* the same as a zareba in the sudân. a great boma may also be a sort of fortress or fortified camp.] was situated. this intelligence greatly grieved kali, who begged stas to cross the mountain separating them from the seat of the war as quickly as possible, assuring him, at the same time, that he would be able to find the road on which he could lead not only the horses but the king. he was already in a region which he knew well and now distinguished with great certainty peaks which were familiar to him from childhood. nevertheless, the passage was not easy, and if it were not for the aid of the inhabitants of the last village, won by gifts, it would have been necessary to seek another road for the king. these negroes knew better than kali the passes leading from that side of the mountain, and after two days' arduous travel, during which great cold incommoded them during the nights, they successfully led the caravan to a depression in a crest of a mountain and from the mountain to a valley lying in the wahima country. stas halted in the morning for a rest in this desolate valley, surrounded by underwood, while kali, who begged to be allowed to scout on horseback in the direction of his father's "boma," which was about a day's distance, started that very night. stas and nell waited for him the whole day with the greatest uneasiness and feared that he had perished or fallen into the hands of the enemy, and when finally he appeared on a lean and panting horse, he himself was equally fatigued and so dejected that the sight of him excited pity. he fell at once at stas' feet and began to implore for help. "oh, great master," he said, "the samburus have defeated fumba's warriors; they killed a multitude of them and dispersed those they did not kill. they besiege fumba in a boma on boko mountain. fumba and his warriors have nothing to eat in the boma and will perish if the great master does not kill mamba and all the samburus with mamba." begging thus, he embraced stas' knees, while the latter knitted his brow and meditated deeply as to what was to be done, for in everything he was particularly concerned about nell. "where," he finally asked, "are fumba's warriors whom the samburus dispersed?" "kali found them and they will be here at once." "how many are there?" the young negro moved the fingers of both hands and the toes of both his feet about a score of times, but it was evident that he could not indicate the exact number for the simple reason that he could not count above ten and every greater amount appeared to him as "wengi," that is, a multitude. "well, if they come here, place yourself at their head and go to your father's relief." "they fear the samburus and will not go with kali, but with the great master they will go and kill 'wengi, wengi' of samburu." stas pondered again. "no," he finally said, "i can neither take the 'bibi' to a battle nor leave her alone, and i will not do it for anything in the world." at this kali rose and folding his hands began to repeat incessantly: "luela! luela! luela!" "what is 'luela'?" stas asked. "a great boma for wahima and samburu women," the young negro replied. and he began to relate extraordinary things. now fumba and mamba had been engaged in continual warfare with each other for a great many years. they laid waste to the plantations of each other and carried away cattle. but there was a locality on the southern shore of the lake, called luela, at which even during the fiercest war the women of both nations assembled in the market-place with perfect safety. it was a sacred place. the war raged only between men; no defeats or victories affected the fate of the women, who in luela, behind a clay enclosure surrounding a spacious market-place, found an absolutely safe asylum. many of them sought shelter there during the time of hostilities, with their children and goods. others came from even distant villages with smoked meat, beans, millet, manioc, and various other supplies. the warriors were not allowed to fight a battle within a distance of luela which could be reached by the crowing of a rooster. they were likewise not permitted to cross the clay rampart with which the market-place was surrounded. they could only stand before the rampart and then the women would give them supplies of food attached to long bamboo poles. this was a very ancient custom and it never happened that either side violated it. the victors also were always concerned that the way of the defeated to luela should be cut off and they did not permit them to approach the sacred place within a distance which could be reached by a rooster's crow. "oh, great master!" kali begged, again embracing stas' knees, "great master, lead 'the bibi' to luela, and you yourself take the king, take kali, take the rifle, take fiery snakes and rout the wicked samburus." stas believed the young negro's narrative, for he had heard that in many localities in africa war does not include women. he remembered how at one time in port said a certain young german missionary related that in the vicinity of the gigantic mountain, kilima-njaro, the immensely warlike massai tribe sacredly observed this custom, by virtue of which the women of the contending parties walked with perfect freedom in certain market-places and were never subject to attack. the existence of this custom on the shores of bassa-narok greatly delighted stas, for he could be certain that no danger threatened nell on account of the war. he determined also to start with the little maid without delay for luela, all the more because before the termination of the war they could not think of a further journey for which not only the aid of the wahimas but that of the samburus was necessary. accustomed to quick decisions, he already knew how he should act. to free fumba, to rout the samburus but not to permit a too bloody revenge, and afterwards to command peace and reconcile the belligerents, appeared to him an imperative matter not only for himself but also most beneficial for the negroes. "thus it should be and thus it shall be!" he said to himself in his soul, and in the meantime, desiring to comfort the young negro for whom he felt sorry, he announced that he did not refuse aid. "how far is luela from here?" he asked. "a half day's journey." "listen, then! we will convey the 'bibi' there at once, after which i shall ride on the king and drive away the samburus from your father's boma. you shall ride with me and shall fight with them." "kali will kill them with the rifle!" and passing at once from despair to joy, he began to leap, laugh, and thank stas with as much ardor as though the victory was already achieved. but further outbursts of gratitude and mirth were interrupted by the arrival of the warriors, whom he had gathered together during his scouting expedition and whom he commanded to appear before the white master. they numbered about three hundred; they were armed with shields of hippopotamus leather, with javelins and knives. their heads were dressed with feathers, baboon manes, and ferns. at the sight of an elephant in the service of a man, at the sight of the white faces, saba, and the horses, they were seized by the same fear and the same amazement which had possessed the negroes in those villages through which the children previously passed. but kali warned them in advance that they would behold the "good mzimu" and the mighty master "who kills lions, who killed a wobo, whom the elephant fears, who crushes rocks, lets loose fiery snakes," etc. so, instead of running away, they stood in a long row in silence, full of admiration, with the whites of their eyes glistening, uncertain whether they should kneel or fall on their faces. but at the same time they were full of faith that if these extraordinary beings would help them then the victories of the samburus would soon end. stas rode along the file on the elephant, just like a commander who is reviewing his army, after which he ordered kali to repeat his promise that he would liberate fumba, and issued an order that they should start for luela. kali rode with a few warriors in advance to announce to the women of both tribes that they would have the inexpressible and unheard-of pleasure of seeing the "good mzimu," who would arrive on an elephant. the matter was so extraordinary that even those women who, being members of the wahima tribe, recognized kali as the lost heir to the throne, thought that he was jesting with them and were surprised that he wanted to jest at a time that was so heavy for the whole tribe and fumba. when, however, after the lapse of a few hours they saw a gigantic elephant approaching the ramparts and on it a white palanquin, they fell into a frenzy of joy and received the "good mzimu," with such shouts and such yells that stas at first mistook their voices for an outburst of hatred, and the more so as the unheard-of ugliness of the negresses made them look like witches. but these were manifestations of extraordinary honor. when nell's tent was set in a corner of the market-place under the shade of two thick trees, the wahima and samburu women decorated it with garlands and wreaths of flowers, after which they brought supplies of food that would have sufficed a month, not only for the divinity herself but for her retinue. the enraptured women even prostrated themselves before mea, who, attired in rosy percale and a few strings of blue beads, as a humble servant of the mzimu, appeared to them as a being far superior to the common negresses. nasibu, out of regard for his childish age, was admitted behind the rampart and at once took advantage of the gifts brought for nell so conscientiously that after an hour his little abdomen resembled an african war drum. xx stas, after a brief rest under the ramparts of luela, started with kali before sunset at the head of three hundred warriors for fumba's boma, for he wanted to attack the samburus during the night, relying upon the fact that in the darkness the fiery snakes would create a greater sensation. the march from luela to mount boko, on which fumba was defending himself, counting the rests, required nine hours, so that they appeared before the fortress at about three o'clock in the morning. stas halted the warriors and, having ordered them to preserve the deepest silence, began to survey the situation. the summit of the mountain on which the defenders had sought refuge was dark; on the other hand the samburus burnt a multitude of camp-fires. their glare illuminated the steep walls of the rock and the gigantic trees growing at its foot. from a distance came the hollow sounds of drums and the shouts and songs of warriors who evidently were not sparing in their indulgence of pombe,* [* a beer of millet with which the negroes intoxicate themselves.] desiring already to celebrate a near and decisive victory. stas advanced at the head of his division still farther, so that finally not more than a hundred paces separated him from the last camp-fires. there were no signs of camp sentinels and the moonless night did not permit the savages to catch sight of the king who, besides, was screened by the underwood. stas, sitting on his neck, quietly issued the final orders, after which he gave kali the signal to light one of the sky-rockets. a red ribbon flew up, hissing, high in the dark sky, after which, with an explosive sound, it scattered into a bouquet of red, blue, and golden stars. all voices became hushed and a moment of gloomy silence ensued. a few seconds later two more fiery snakes flew out, as though with an infernal hiss, but this time they were aimed horizontally directly at the samburu camp; simultaneously resounded the king's roar and the loud cries of the three hundred wahimas who, armed with assagais,* [* negro spears.] maces, and knives, rushed ahead with irrepressible speed. a battle began, which was the more terrible because it took place in the darkness, as all the camp-fires in the confusion were at once trampled out. but, at the very beginning, blind terror at the sight of the fiery snakes seized the samburus. what was happening passed entirely beyond their understanding. they only knew that they were attacked by some terrible beings and that horrible and unavoidable destruction threatened them. a greater part of them ran away before they could be reached by the spears and maces of the wahimas. a hundred and a few tens of warriors, whom mamba succeeded in rallying about him, offered stubborn resistance; when, however, in the flashes of the shots, they saw a gigantic beast and on him a person dressed in white, and when their ears were dinned with the reports of the weapon which kali from time to time discharged, their hearts sank. fumba on the mountain, seeing the first sky-rocket, which burst in the heights, fell on the ground from fright and lay as though dead for a few minutes. but, regaining consciousness, he imagined from the desperate yells of the warriors one thing, namely, that some kind of spirits were exterminating the samburus below. then the thought flashed through his mind that if he did not come to the aid of those spirits, he might incur their wrath, and as the extermination of the samburus was his salvation, he mustered all his warriors about him and sallied forth from a secret side exit of the boma and cut off the road of a greater part of the fugitives. the battle now changed into a massacre. the samburu drums ceased to beat. in the darkness, which was rent only by the red flashes cast by kali's rifle, resounded the howls of the men being killed, the hollow blows of the maces against shields and the groans of the wounded. nobody begged for mercy, for mercy is unknown to negroes. kali, from a fear that in the darkness and confusion he might wound his own people, finally ceased to fire, and seizing gebhr's sword rushed with it into the midst of the enemies. the samburus could now flee from the mountains towards their frontiers only by way of one wide pass, but as fumba blocked this pass with his warriors, out of the whole host only those were safe who, throwing themselves upon the ground, permitted themselves to be taken alive, though they knew that a cruel slavery awaited them, or even immediate death at the hands of the victors. mamba defended himself heroically until a blow of a mace crushed his skull. his son, young faru, fell into fumba's hand, who ordered him bound, as a future sacrifice of gratitude to the spirits which had come to his assistance. stas did not drive the terrible king into the battle; he permitted him only to trumpet to increase the terror of the enemies. he himself did not fire a single shot from his rifle at the samburus, for in the first place he had promised little nell on leaving luela that he would not kill any one, and again he actually had no desire to kill people who had done no harm to him or nell. it was enough that he assured the wahimas a victory and freed fumba, who was besieged in a great boma. soon, also, when kali came running with news of a definite victory, he issued an order for the cessation of the battle, which raged yet in the underwood and rocky recesses and which was prolonged by the implacable hatred of old fumba. however, before kali succeeded in quelling it, it was daylight. the sun, as is usual under the equator, rolled quickly from beyond the mountains, and flooded with a bright light the battle-field on which lay over two hundred samburu corpses pierced by spears or crushed by maces. after a certain time, when the battle finally ceased and only the joyful yells of the wahimas disturbed the morning's quiet, kali again appeared, but with a face so dejected and sad that it could be perceived even from a distance that some kind of misfortune had overtaken him. in fact, when he stood before stas, he began to strike his head with his fists and exclaim sorrowfully: "oh, great master!--fumba kufa! fumba kufa!" (is slain). "slain?" stas repeated. kali related what had happened, and from his words it appeared that the cause of the occurrence was only the inveterate hatred of fumba, for after the battle had ceased, he still wanted to give the last blow to two samburus, and from one of them he received the stroke of a spear. the news spread among all the wahimas in the twinkling of an eye and around kali a mob gathered. a few moments later six warriors bore on spears the old king, who was not killed but fatally wounded. before his death he desired to see the mighty master, the real conqueror of the samburus, sitting on an elephant. accordingly uncommon admiration struggled in his eyes with the dusk with which death was dimming them, and his pale lips, stretched by "pelele," whispered lowly: "yancig! yancig!" but immediately after that his head reclined backward, his mouth opened wide--and he died. kali, who loved him, with tears threw himself upon his breast. among the warriors some began to strike their heads, others to proclaim kali king and to "yancig" in his honor. some fell before the young ruler on their faces. no one raised a voice in opposition, as the right to rule belonged to kali not only by law, as the oldest son of fumba, but also as a conqueror. in the meantime, in the huts of the fetish-men in the boma on the mountain-top, resounded the savage din of the wicked mzimu, the same as stas had heard in the first negro village, but this time it was not directed against him but was demanding the death of the prisoners for killing fumba. the drums began to rumble. the warriors formed in a long host of three men in a row and commenced a war dance around stas, kali, and fumba's corpse. "oa, oa! yach, yach!" all voices repeated; all heads nodded right and left in unison, the whites of their eyes glistened, and the sharp points of the spears twinkled in the morning sun. kali rose and turning to stas, said: "great master, bring the 'bibi' to the boma and let her dwell in fumba's hut. kali is king of the wahimas and the great master is kali's king." stas nodded his head in sign of assent but remained a few hours, for he and the king were entitled to a rest. he did not leave until towards the evening. during his absence the bodies of the slain samburus were removed and thrown into a neighboring deep abyss, over which at once a swarm of vultures flocked; the fetish-men made preparations for fumba's funeral and kali assumed authority as the only master of the life and death of all his subjects. "do you know what kali is?" stas asked the little maid on the return journey from luela. nell gazed at him with surprise. "he is your boy." "aha! a boy! kali is now king of all the wahimas." this news delighted nell immensely. this sudden change, thanks to which the former slave of the cruel gebhr, and later the humble servant of stas, became a king, seemed to her something extraordinary and at the same time exceedingly amusing. nevertheless, linde's remark that negroes were like children who were incapable of remembering what transpired the day before, did not appear just in its application to kali, for as soon as stas and nell stopped at the foot of mount boko the young monarch hurried to meet them; he greeted them with the usual marks of humility and joy and repeated the words which he had previously uttered: "kali is the king of the wahimas, and the great master is kali's king." and he surrounded both with an adoration almost divine and prostrated himself, particularly before nell, in the presence of all the people, for he knew from experience, acquired during the journey, that the great master cared more for the little "bibi" than for himself. leading them solemnly to the capital boma on the summit he surrendered to them fumba's hut, which resembled a great shed divided into several rooms. he ordered the wahima women, who came with them from luela, and who could not look enough at the "good mzimu," to place a utensil with honey and sour milk in the first room, and when he learned that the "bibi," tired by the journey, had fallen asleep, he commanded all the inhabitants to observe the deepest silence under the penalty of cutting out their tongues. but he decided to honor them still more solemnly, and with this in view, when stas, after a brief rest, came out of the shed, he approached him and, prostrating himself, said: "to-morrow kali shall order fumba to be buried and shall cause as many slaves to be cut down for fumba and for kali as both have fingers on their hands, but for the 'bibi' and for the great master, kali shall order faru, the son of mamba, to be cut to pieces and 'wengi, wengi' of other samburus who were captured by the wahimas." and stas knitted his brows and began to gaze with his steely eyes into kali's eyes; after which he answered: "i forbid you to do that." "master," the young negro said in an uncertain voice, "the wahimas always cut down slaves. the old king--dies cut them down; the young succeeds--cut them down. if kali did not command them to be cut down, the wahimas would think that kali is not king." stas looked more and more sternly: "what of it?" he asked. "did you not learn anything on mount linde, and are you not a christian?" "i am, oh, great master!" "listen, then! the wahimas have black brains, but your brains ought to be white. you, as soon as you became their king, should enlighten them and teach them what you learned from me and from the 'bibi' they are like jackals and like hyenas--make men of them. tell them it is not allowable to cut down captives, for the great spirit to whom i and the 'bibi' pray avenges the blood of the defenseless. the white people do not murder slaves, and you want to be worse to them than gebhr was to you--you, a christian! shame on you, kali. change the ancient and abominable customs of the wahimas for good ones and god will bless you for this and the 'bibi' will not say that kali is a savage, stupid, bad negro." a horrible din in the huts of the fetish-men deafened his words. stas waved his hand and continued: "i hear! that is your wicked mzimu, which wants the blood and heads of the captives. but you, of course, know what that means and it will not frighten you. well, i say this to you: take a bamboo stick, go to each hut and thrash the hides of the fetish-men until they begin to roar louder than their drums. cast out the drums into the middle of the boma, in order that all the wahimas may see and understand how these knaves have deceived them. tell your foolish wahimas, at the same time, that which you yourself announced to m'rua's people, that wherever the 'good mzimu' sojourns no human blood can be shed." stas' words evidently persuaded the young king, as he glanced at him boldly and said: "kali will beat, oh, beat the fetish-men; throw out the drums and tell the wahimas that there where the 'good mzimu' is it is not allowable to kill anyone. but what shall kali do with faru and with the samburus who killed fumba?" stas, who already had formed his plans for everything and who only waited for this question, answered at once: "your father perished and his father perished, therefore it is a head for a head. you shall conclude a blood alliance with faru, after which the wahimas and samburus shall dwell in harmony; they shall peacefully cultivate manioc, and hunt. you shall tell faru of the great spirit, who is the father of all white and black people, and faru shall love you like a brother." "kali now has a white brain," answered the young negro. and with this the conversation ended. a while later again resounded wild roars; this time they were not the roars of the wicked mzimu but only of both fetish-men, whom kali cudgelled with all his might and main. the warriors, who below continually surrounded the king in a compact circle, came running up as fast as their legs could carry them to see what was happening, and soon became convinced with their own eyes and from the confessions of the fetish-men that the bad mzimu before which heretofore they trembled was only a hollowed-out trunk with monkey skin stretched over it. and young faru, when he was informed that in honor of the "good mzimu" and the great master his head would not be dashed to pieces, but that kali was to eat a piece of him and he a piece of kali, could hardly believe his ears, and on learning to whom he was indebted for his life, lay on his face on the ground before the entrance to fumba's hut, and remained there until nell came out and ordered him to rise. then he embraced with his black hands her little foot and placed it on his head in sign that through his entire life he desired to remain her slave. the wahimas were greatly astonished at the commands of the young king, but the presence of the unknown guests whom they regarded as the most powerful sorcerers in the world had the effect of disarming all opposition. the older people, however, were displeased with the new customs, and both fetish-men, understanding that their prosperous days were forever over, swore in their souls a terrible revenge against the king and the new arrivals. in the meantime they buried fumba with great solemnity at the foot of the rock below the boma. kali placed above his grave a cross made of bamboo, while the negroes left a few utensils with pombe and smoked meat "in order that he should not annoy and haunt them during the night-time." mamba's body, after the conclusion of the blood brotherhood between kali and faru, was surrendered to the samburus. xxi "nell, can you enumerate our journeys from fayûm?" stas asked. "i can." saying this the little maid raised her eyebrows and began to count on her little fingers. "at once. from fayûm to khartûm--that is one; from khartûm to fashoda--that is the second; from fashoda to that ravine in which we found the king--that is the third; and from mount linde to the lake--that is the fourth." "yes. there probably is not another fly in the world which has flown over such a piece of africa." "that fly would look queer without you." stas began to laugh. "a fly on an elephant! a fly on an elephant!" "but not a tsetse! honestly, stas--not a tsetse." "no," he answered, "a very agreeable fly." nell, pleased with the praise, propped her little nose on his arm; after which she asked: "when shall we start on our fifth journey?" "as soon as you have rested thoroughly, and i can instruct those men whom kali has promised to me how to shoot a little." "and shall we ride long?" "long, nell--long! who knows whether it will not be the longest journey?" "and you, as usual, will be equal to it." "i must be." somehow stas had managed to shift for himself as best he could, but this fifth journey required great preparations. they were to venture into unknown regions in which they were threatened with manifold dangers, so the boy desired to be protected against them better than he previously had been. with this in view he gave instructions in shooting from remington rifles to forty young wahimas who were to form the principal armed force and in a measure nell's body-guard. more rifle-men he could not have, as the king carried only twenty-five rifles and the horses bore only fifteen. the rest of the army was to consist of one hundred wahimas and a hundred samburus, armed with spears and bows, whom faru promised to furnish, and whose presence removed many difficulties of travel through the wide and wild country inhabited by the samburu tribe. stas, not without a certain pride, thought that having escaped during his journey from fashoda with only nell and the two negroes, without any means, he might come to the ocean coast at the head of two hundred armed men with an elephant and horses. he pictured to himself what would be said by the english people who prized resourcefulness highly, but above all he thought of what his father and mr. rawlinson would say. the thought of this sweetened all his toils. nevertheless, he was not at all at ease as to his own and nell's fate, for he surely would pass through the possessions of the wahimas and the samburus without any difficulties, but after that, what? upon what tribes would he yet chance, into what regions would he enter, and how much travel still remained? linde's directions were too vague. stas was greatly worried because he actually did not know where he was, as that part of africa appeared on the maps from which he studied geography entirely like a blank page. he also had no idea what this lake bassa-narok was and how great it was. he was on its southern border, at which the width of the overflow might amount to ten miles. but neither the wahimas nor the samburus could tell him how far the lake extended to the north. kali, who knew the kiswahili language passably well, answered all questions with, "bali! bali!" which meant "far! far!" but this was all that stas could elicit from him. as the mountains on the north, shutting off the view, appeared quite near, he assumed that it was a small, brackish lake, like many others in africa. a few years later it appeared how great an error he committed* [* it was the great lake which was discovered in by the celebrated traveler teleki and which he named lake rudolf.]. for the time being, however, he was not concerned so much about ascertaining the exact dimensions of bassa-narok as whether some river did not flow out of it, which afterwards coursed to the ocean. the samburus--subjects of faru--claimed that east of their country lay a waterless desert which no one had yet traversed. stas, who knew negroes from the narratives of travelers, from linde's adventures, and partly from his own experience, was aware that when the dangers and the hardships began, many of his men would desert to return home, and perhaps not one would remain. in such case he would find himself in the wilds and desert with only nell, mea, and little nasibu. above all he understood that a lack of water would disperse the caravan at once, and for that reason he inquired so eagerly about the river. going along its course, they really might avoid those horrors to which travelers in waterless regions are exposed. but the samburus could not tell him anything definite; he himself could not make any longer explorations of the eastern shore of the lake, for other employment kept him at boko. he reckoned that in all probability none of the kites that he flew from mount linde and from the negro villages had crossed the chain of mountains surrounding bassa-narok. for this reason it was necessary to make and fly new ones, for these the wind could now carry across the flat desert far away--perhaps as far as the ocean. now this work he had to supervise personally. for though nell could glue them perfectly, and kali had learned how to fly them, neither of them were able to inscribe on them all that it was necessary to write. stas regarded this as a matter of great importance which it was not allowable to neglect. so this labor occupied so much of his time that the caravan was not ready for the journey until three weeks had elapsed. but on the eve of the day on which they were to start at daybreak the young king of the wahimas appeared before stas and, bowing profoundly, said: "kali goes with the master and the 'bibi' as far as the water on which great pirogues of the white people float." stas was touched by this proof of attachment; nevertheless, he thought that he had no right to take the boy with him upon such an immense journey, a return from which might be uncertain. "why do you want to go with us?" he asked. "kali loves the great master and the 'bibi'." stas placed the palm of his hand on kali's woolly head. "i know, kali, that you are an honest and good boy. but what will become of your kingdom and who will govern the wahimas in your place?" "m'tana, brother of kali's mother." stas knew that strife for rulership raged among the negroes and power lured them the same as the white people; so he pondered for a while and said: "no, kali. i cannot take you with me. you must remain with the wahimas in order to make good people of them." "kali will return to them." "m'tana has many sons-- well, what will happen if he himself should desire to become king and leave the kingdom to his sons, and should induce the wahimas to expel you?" "m'tana is good. he would not do that." "but if he should do it?" "then kali will again go to the great water--to the great master and the 'bibi.'" "we shall not be there then." "then kali will sit beside the water and weep from grief." speaking thus he crossed his hands above his head; after a while he whispered: "kali loves the great master and the 'bibi' very much--very much!" and two big tears glistened in his eyes. stas hesitated how to act. he was sorry for kali, nevertheless, he did not assent to his entreaty. he understood--not to speak of the dangers of return--that if m'tana or the fetish-men stirred up the negroes, then the boy was threatened not only with expulsion from the country but with death. "it is better for you to remain," he said, "better without question." but while he was saying this, nell entered. through the thin mat which separated the rooms she had heard perfectly the whole conversation, and now seeing tears in kali's eyes she began to wipe his eyelids with her little fingers, and afterward turned to stas: "kali is going with us," she said with great firmness. "oho!" answered stas, somewhat ruffled, "that does not depend upon you." "kali is going with us," she repeated. "no, he will not go." suddenly she stamped her little foot. "i want it." and she burst into a genuine flood of tears. stas stared at her with the greatest amazement, as though he did not understand what had happened to the little maid who was always so good and gentle, but seeing that she stuck both of her little fists in her eyes and, like a little bird, caught the air with her opened mouth, he began to exclaim with great haste: "kali is going with us! he is going! he is going! why are you crying? how unbearable you are! he is going! my, how pale you are! he is going! do you hear?" and thus it happened. stas was ashamed until the evening of his weakness for the "good mzimu," and the "good mzimu" having carried her point, was as quiet, gentle, and obedient as ever. xxii the caravan started at daybreak on the following day. the young negro was happy, the little female despot was now gentle and obedient, and stas was full of energy and hope. they were accompanied by one hundred samburus and one hundred wahimas--forty of the latter were armed with remingtons from which they could shoot passably well. the white commander who drilled them during three weeks knew, indeed, that in a given case they would create more noise than harm, but thought that in meeting savages noise plays no less a part than bullets, and he was pleased with his guards. they took with them a great supply of manioc, cakes baked of big, fat white ants and ground into flour, as well as a great quantity of smoked meats. between ten and twenty women went with the caravan. they carried various good things for nell and water-bags made of antelope skin. stas, from the king's back, kept order, issued commands--perhaps not so much because they were necessary, but because he was intoxicated by the role of a commander--and with pride viewed his little army. "if i wanted to," he said to himself, "i could remain the king of all the people of doko, like beniowsky in madagascar." and a thought flitted through his head whether it would not be well to return here sometime, conquer a great tract of country, civilize the negroes, found in that locality a new poland, or even start at the head of a drilled black host for the old. as he felt, however, that there was something ludicrous in the idea and as he doubted whether his father would permit him to play the role of the macedonian alexander in africa, he did not confide his plans to nell, who certainly would be the only person in the world ready to applaud them. and besides, before subjugating that region of africa, it was necessary above all things to get out of it, so he occupied himself with nearer matters. the caravan stretched out in a long string. stas, sitting on the king's neck, decided to ride at the end in order to have everything and everybody in sight. now when the people passed by him, one after another, he observed, not without surprise, that the two fetishmen, m'kunje and m'pua--the same who had received a drubbing at kali's hands--belonged to the caravan and that they set out with packs on their heads together with the others on the road. so he stopped them and asked: "who ordered you to go?" "the king," they answered, bowing humbly. but under the mask of humility their eyes glittered savagely and their faces reflected such malice that stas at once wanted to drive them away, and if he did not do it, it was only because he did not want to undermine kali's authority. nevertheless, he summoned him at once. "did you order the fetish-men to go with us?" he asked. "kali ordered it, for kali is wise." "then i shall ask you why your wisdom did not leave them at home?" "because if m'kunje and m'pua remain they would instigate the wahimas to kill kali upon his return, but if we take them with us kali will be able to watch them." stas meditated for a while and said: "perhaps you are right; nevertheless, do not lose sight of them, day or night, for they have a wicked look." "kali will have bamboo sticks," the young negro replied. the caravan proceeded. stas at the last moment ordered the guard, armed with remingtons, to close the procession, as they were men chosen by him, and most reliable. during the drills, which lasted quite long, they had become attached in a certain degree to this young commander, and at the same time, as the nearest to his august person, they regarded themselves as something better than the others. at present they were to watch over the whole caravan and seize those who should take a fancy to desert. it was to be foreseen that when the hardships and dangers began deserters would not be lacking. but the first day everything proceeded in the best possible manner. the negroes with the burdens on their heads, each one armed with a bow and a few smaller javelins or so-called assagais, extended in a long serpentine column amidst the jungle. for some time they skirted along the southern shore of the lake over the level ground, but as the lake was surrounded on all sides by high peaks they had to climb mountains when they turned to the east. the old samburus, who knew that locality, claimed that the caravan would have to cross high passes between the mountains which they called kullal and inro, after which they would enter into the ebene country, lying south of borani. stas understood that they could not go directly east for he remembered that mombasa was situated a few degrees beyond the equator and therefore considerably south of that unknown lake. possessing a few compasses which linde left, he did not fear that he would stray from the proper road. the first night they lodged upon a wooded hill. with the coming of darkness a few scores of camp-fires blazed, at which the negroes roasted dried meat and ate a dough of manioc roots, picking it out of the utensils with their fingers. after appeasing their hunger and thirst they were gossiping among themselves as to where the "bwana kubwa" would lead them and what they would receive from him for it. some sang, squatting and stirring up the fire, while all talked so long and so loudly that stas finally had to command silence in order that nell should sleep. the night was very cold, but the next day, when the first rays of the sun illuminated the locality, it became warm at once. about sunrise the little travelers saw a strange sight. they were just approaching a little lake over a mile wide, or rather a great slough formed by the rains in the mountain valley, when suddenly stas, sitting with nell on the king, and looking about the region through a field-glass, exclaimed: "look, nell! elephants are going to the water." in fact, at a distance of about five hundred yards could be seen a small herd composed of five heads, approaching the little lake slowly one after the other. "these are some kind of strange elephants," stas said, gazing at them with keen attention; "they are smaller than the king, their ears are far smaller, and i do not see any tusks at all." in the meantime the elephants entered the water but did not stop at the shore, as the king usually did, and did not begin to splash with their trunks, but going continually ahead they plunged deeper and deeper until finally only their backs protruded above the water like boulders of stone. "what is this? they are diving!" stas exclaimed. the caravan approached considerably towards the shore and finally was close by it. stas halted it and began to stare with extraordinary astonishment now at nell, then at the lake. the elephants could not be seen at all; in the smooth watery pane even with the naked eye could be distinguished five spots like round red flowers, jutting above the surface and rocking with a light motion. "they are standing on the bottom and those are the tips of their trunks," stas said, not believing his own eyes. then he shouted to kali: "kali, did you see them?" "yes, master, kali sees. those are water-elephants,"* [* africa contains many uninvestigated secrets. rumors of water-elephants reached the ears of travelers but were given no credence. recently m. le petit, sent to africa by the museum of natural history, paris, saw water-elephants on the shores of lake leopold in congo. an account of this can be found in the german periodical "kosmos," no. .] answered the young negro quietly. "water-elephants?" "kali has seen them often." "and do they live in water?" "during the night they go to the jungle and feed and during the day they live in the lake the same as a kiboko (hippopotamus). they do not come out until after sunset." stas for a long time could not recover from his surprise, and were it not that it was urgent for him to proceed on his way he would have halted the caravan until night in order to view better these singular animals. but it occurred to him that the elephants might emerge from the water on the opposite side, and even if they came out nearer it would be difficult to observe them closely in the dusk. he gave the signal for the departure, but on the road said to nell: "well! we have seen something which the eyes of no european have ever seen. and do you know what i think?--that if we reach the ocean safely nobody will believe us when i tell them that there are water-elephants in africa." "but if you caught one and took him along with us to the ocean?" nell said, in the conviction that stas as usual would be able to accomplish everything. xxiii after ten days' journey the caravan finally crossed the depressions in the crests of mountains and entered into a different country. it was an immense plain, broken here and there by small hills, but was mainly level. the vegetation changed entirely. there were no big trees, rising singly or in clumps over the wavy surface of the grass. here and there projected at a considerable distance from each other acacias yielding gum, with coral-hued trunks, umbrella-like, but with scant foliage and affording but little shade. among the white-ant hillocks shot upwards here and there euphorbias, with boughs like the arms of a candle-stick. in the sky vultures soared, and lower there flew from acacia to acacia birds of the raven species with black and white plumage. the grass was yellow and, in spike, looked like ripe rye. but, nevertheless, that dry jungle obviously supplied food for a great number of animals, for several times each day the travelers met considerable herds of antelopes, hartbeests, and particularly zebras. the heat on the open and treeless plain became unbearable. the sky was cloudless, the days were excessively hot, and the night did not bring any rest. the journey became each day more and more burdensome. in the villages which the caravan encountered, the extremely savage populace received it with fear, but principally with reluctance, and if it were not for the large number of armed guards as well as the sight of the white faces, the king, and saba, great danger would have threatened the travelers. with kali's assistance stas was able to ascertain that farther on there were no villages and that the country was waterless. this was hard to believe, for the numerous herds which they encountered must have drunk somewhere. nevertheless, the account of the desert, in which there were no rivers nor sloughs, frightened the negroes and desertions began. the first example was set by m'kunje and m'pua. fortunately their escape was detected early, and pursuers on horseback caught them not far from the camp; when they were brought back kali, with the aid of the bamboo sticks, impressed upon them the impropriety of their conduct. stas, assembling all the guards, delivered a speech to them, which the young negro interpreted into the native language. taking advantage of the fact that at the last stopping place lions roared all night about the camp, stas endeavored to convince his men that whoever ran away would unavoidably become their prey, and even if he passed the night on acacia boughs the still more terrible "wobo" would find him there. he said afterwards that wherever the antelopes live there must be water, and if in the further course of their journey they should chance upon a region entirely destitute of water, they could take enough of it with them in bags of antelope skin for two or three days' journey. the negroes, hearing his words, repeated every little while, one after another: "oh, mother, how true that is, how true!" but the following night five samburus and two wahimas ran away, and after that every night somebody was missing. m'kunje and m'pua did not, however, try their fortune a second time for the simple reason that kali at sunset ordered them to be bound. nevertheless, the country became drier and drier, and the sun scorched the jungle unmercifully. even acacias could not be seen. herds of antelopes appeared continually but in smaller numbers. the donkey and the horses yet found sufficient food, as under the high, dry grass was hidden in many places lower grass, greener and less dry. but the king, though he was not fastidious, grew lean. when they chanced upon an acacia he broke it with his head, and nibbled diligently its leaves and even the pods of the previous year. the caravan indeed came upon water every day, but frequently it was so bad that it had to be filtered or else it was unfit even for the elephant to drink. afterwards it happened several times that the men, sent in advance, returned under kali's command, not finding a slough nor a stream hidden in the earth's fissures, and kali with troubled face would announce: "madi apana" (no water). stas understood that this last journey would not be any easier than the previous ones and began to worry about nell, as changes were taking place in her. her little face, instead of tanning from the sun and wind, became each day paler and her eyes lost their usual luster. on the dry plain, free from mosquitoes, she was not threatened with fever, but it was apparent that the terrible heat was wasting the little maid's strength. the boy, with compassion and with fear, now gazed at her little hands, which became as white as paper, and bitterly reproached himself because, having lost so much time in the preparation and in drilling the negroes to shoot, he had exposed her to a journey in a season of the year so parching. amid these fears day after day passed. the sun drank up the moisture and the life out of the soil more and more greedily and unmercifully. the grass shriveled and dried up to such a degree that it crumbled under the hoofs of the antelopes, and herds, rushing by, though not numerous, raised clouds of dust. nevertheless, the travelers chanced once more upon a little river, which they recognized by a long row of trees growing on its banks. the negroes ran in a race towards the trees and, reaching the bank, lay flat on it, dipping their heads and drinking so greedily that they stopped only when a crocodile seized the hand of one of their number. others rushed to their companion's rescue and in one moment they pulled out of the water the loathsome lizard, which, however, did not let go of the man's hand though his jaws were opened with spears and knives. the matter was only terminated by the king who, placing his foot on him, crushed him as easily as if he were a mouldy mushroom. when the men finally quenched their thirst, stas ordered the erection in the shallow water of a round enclosure of high bamboos with only one entrance from the bank, in order that nell might bathe with perfect safety. and at the entrance he stationed the king. the bath greatly refreshed the little maid and a rest restored her strength somewhat. to the great joy of the whole caravan and nell, "bwana kubwa" decided to stop two days near this water. at this news the men fell into excellent humor and at once forgot the toils they had endured. after taking a nap and refreshments the negroes began to wander among the trees above the river, looking for palms bearing wild dates and so-called "job's tears," from which necklaces are made. a few of them returned to the camp before sunset, carrying some square objects which stas recognized as his own kites. one of these kites bore the number , which was evidence that it was sent out from mount linde, as the children flew from that place a few score. stas was hugely overjoyed at this sight and it gave him renewed courage. "i did not expect," he said to nell, "that kites could fly such a distance. i was certain that they would remain on the summits of karamojo and i only let them fly prepared for any accident. but now i see that the wind can carry them where it wants to and i have a hope that those which we sent from the mountains surrounding bassa-narok, and now on the road, will fly as far as the ocean." "they surely will," nell answered. "god grant," the boy acquiesced, thinking of the dangers and hardships of the further journey. the caravan started from the river on the third day, taking with them a great supply of water in leather bags. before nightfall they again entered upon a region grilled by the sun, in which not even acacias grew, and the ground in some places was as bare as a threshing-floor. sometimes they met passion-flowers with trunks imbedded in the ground and resembling monstrous pumpkins two yards in diameter. in these huge globes there shot out lianas as thin as string, which, creeping over the ground, covered immense distances, forming a thicket so impenetrable that it would be difficult even for mice to penetrate it. but notwithstanding the beautiful color of these plants, resembling the european acanthus, there were so many thorns in them that neither the king nor the horses could find any nourishment in them. only the donkey nibbled them cautiously. sometimes in the course of several english miles they did not see anything except coarse, short grass and low plants, like immortelles, which crumbled upon being touched. after a night's bivouac, during the whole of the following day a living fire descended from heaven. the air quivered as on the libyan desert. in the sky there was not even a cloudlet. the earth was so flooded with light that everything appeared white, and not a sound, not even the buzz of insects, interrupted this deadly stillness surfeited with an ill-omened luster. the men were dripping with sweat. at times they deposited their packs of dried meats and shields in one pile to find a little shade under them. stas issued orders to save the water, but the negroes are like children, who have no thought of the morrow. finally it was necessary to surround with a guard those who carried the supplies of water and to apportion the water to each one separately. kali attended to this very conscientiously, but this consumed a great deal of time and delayed the march, and therefore the finding of some kind of watering-place. the samburus complained in addition that the wahimas got more than their share to drink, and the wahimas that the samburus were favored. these latter began to threaten to return, but stas declared to them that faru would cut off their heads. he himself ordered the men armed with remingtons to go on guard and not let any one leave. the next night was passed upon a level plain. they did not build a boma, or, as the sudânese say, a zareba, for there was nothing to build one with. the duties of sentinel were performed by the king and saba. this was sufficient, but the king, who received only a tenth of the water he needed, trumpeted for it until sunrise, and saba, with hanging tongue, turned his eyes towards stas and nell in mute appeal for even one drop. the little maid wanted stas to give him a mouthful from a rubber flask left by linde, which stas carried with a string across his shoulder, but he was saving this remnant for the little one in the dark hour; therefore he declined. on the fourth day towards evening only five bags with water remained, or not quite half a cupful for each member of the party. as the nights, however, at any rate were cooler than the days, and the thirst at such times vexed them less than under the burning rays of the sun, and as the people had received in the morning a small quantity of water, stas ordered those bags saved for the following day. the negroes grumbled at this order, but fear of stas was still great; so they did not dare to rush at this last supply, especially as near it stood a guard of two men armed with remingtons, the guard being changed every hour. the wahimas and samburus cheated their thirst by pulling out blades of poor grass and chewing its roots. nevertheless, there was almost no moisture in it, as the inexorable sun burnt it, even below the earth's surface.* [*about the waterless plains in this region see the excellent book, entitled "kilima-njaro," by the rev. mr. le roy, at present bishop of gabon.] sleep, though it did not quench their thirst, at least permitted them to forget it; so when night followed, the men, weary and exhausted with the whole day's march, dropped as though lifeless, wherever they stopped, and fell into deep slumber. stas also fell asleep, but in his soul he had too many worries and was disturbed too much to sleep peacefully and long. after a few hours he awoke and began to meditate on what was to come, and where he could secure water for nell, and for the whole caravan, together with the people and the animals. his situation was hard and perhaps horrible, but the resourceful boy did not yet yield to despair. he began to recall all the incidents, from the time of their abduction from fayûm until that moment: the great journey across the sahara, the hurricane in the desert, the attempts to escape, khartûm, the mahdi, fashoda, their liberation from gebhr's hands; afterwards the further journey after linde's death until reaching lake bassa-narok and that place at which they were passing the night. "so much did we undergo, so much have we suffered," he soliloquized, "so often did it seem that all was lost and that there was no help; nevertheless, god aided me and i always found help. why, it is impossible that, after having passed over such roads and gone through so many terrible dangers, we should perish upon this the last journey. now we have yet a little water and this region--why, it is not a sahara, for if it were the people would know about it." but hope was mainly sustained in him by this, that on the southeast he espied through the field-glass some kind of misty outlines as though of mountains. perhaps they were hundreds of english miles away, perhaps more. but if they succeeded in reaching them, they would be saved, as mountains are seldom waterless. how much time that would consume was something he could not compute for it all depended upon the height of the mountains. lofty peaks in such transparent atmosphere as that of africa can be seen at an immeasurable distance; so it was necessary to find water before that time. otherwise destruction threatened them. "it is necessary," stas repeated to himself. the harsh breathing of the elephant, who exhaled from his lungs as best he could the burning heat, interrupted every little while the boy's meditations. but after a certain time it seemed to him that he heard some kind of sound, resembling groans, coming from the direction in which the water-bags lay covered in the grass for the night. as the groans were repeated several times, he rose to see what was happening and, walking towards the grass plot a few score paces distant from the tent, he perceived two dark bodies lying near each other and two remington barrels glistening in the moonlight. "the negroes are always the same," he thought; "they were to watch over the water, more precious now to us than anything in the world, and both went to sleep as though in their own huts. ah! kali's bamboo will have some work to do to-morrow." under this impression he approached and shook the foot of one of the sentinels, but at once drew back in horror. the apparently sleeping negro lay on his back with a knife sticking in his throat up to the handle and beside him was the other, likewise cut so terribly that his head was almost severed from the trunk. two bags with water had disappeared; the other three lay in the littered grass, slashed and sunken. stas felt that his hair stood on end. xxiv in response to his shout kali was the first to come rushing; after him came the two guardsmen who were to relieve the previous watch, and a few moments later all the wahimas and samburus assembled at the scene of the crime, shouting and yelling. a commotion, full of cries and terror, ensued. the people were concerned not so much about the slain and the murderers as about the water which soaked into the parched jungle soil. some negroes threw themselves upon the ground and, clawing out with their fingers lumps of earth, sucked out the remnants of moisture. others shouted that evil spirits had murdered the guards and slashed the bags. but stas and kali knew what it all meant. m'kunje and m'pua were missing from those men howling above that grass patch. in that which had happened there was something more than the murder of two guards and the theft of water. the remaining slashed bags were evidence that it was an act of revenge and at the same time a sentence of death for the whole caravan. the priests of the wicked mzimu revenged themselves upon the good one. the fetish-men revenged themselves upon the young king who exposed their frauds and did not permit them to deceive the ignorant wahimas. now the wings of death stretched over the entire caravan like a hawk over a flock of doves. kali recollected too late that, having his mind troubled and engrossed with something else, he forgot to have the fetish-men bound, as from the time of their flight he had ordered them to be each evening. it was apparent that both sentinels, watching the water, through inbred negro carelessness, lay down and fell asleep. this facilitated the work of the rogues and permitted them to escape unpunished. before the confusion subsided somewhat and the people recovered from their consternation, considerable time elapsed; nevertheless, the assassins could not be far away, as the ground under the cut bags was moist and the blood which flowed from both of the slain did not yet coagulate. stas issued an order to pursue the runaways not only for the purpose of punishing them, but also to recover the last two bags of water. kali, mounting a horse and taking with him about thirteen guardsmen, started in pursuit. stas at first wanted to take part in it, but it occurred to him that he could not leave nell alone among the excited and enraged negroes; so he remained. he only directed kali to take saba along with him. he himself remained, for he feared a downright mutiny, particularly among the samburus. but in this he was mistaken. the negroes as a rule break out easily, and sometimes for trivial causes, but when crushed by a great calamity and particularly when the inexorable hand of death weighs upon them, they submit passively; not only those whom islam teaches that a struggle with destiny is vain, but all others. then neither terror nor the moments of torture can arouse them from their torpor. it happened thus at this time. the wahimas, as well as the samburus, when the first excitement passed away and the idea that they must die definitely found lodgment in their minds, lay down quietly on the ground waiting for death; in view of which not a mutiny was to be feared, but rather that on the morrow they would not want to rise and start upon their further journey. stas, when he observed this, was seized by a great pity for them. kali returned before daybreak and at once placed before stas two bags torn to pieces, in which there was not a drop of water. "great master," he said, "madi apana!" stas rubbed his perspiring forehead with his hand; after which he said: "and m'kunje and m'pua?" "m'kunje and m'pua are dead," kali replied. "did you order them to be killed?" "a lion or 'wobo' killed them." and he began to relate what happened. the bodies of the two murderers were found quite far from the camp at the place where they met death. both lay close to each other, both had skulls crushed from behind, lacerated shoulders, and gnawed spines. kali assumed that when the "wobo" or lion appeared before them in the moonlight they fell on their faces before it and began to entreat it that it should spare their lives. but the terrible beast killed both, and afterwards, having appeased its hunger, scented water and tore the bags to pieces. "god punished them," stas said, "and the wahimas should be convinced that the wicked mzimu is incapable of rescuing any one." and kali added: "god punished them, but we have no water." "far ahead of us in the east i saw mountains. there must be water there." "kali sees them also, but it is many, many days to them." a moment of silence followed. "master," spoke out kali, "let the 'good mzimu'--let the 'bibi' beg the great spirit for rain or for a river." stas left him, making no reply. but before the tent he saw nell's little figure; the shouts and yells had awakened her some time before. "what has happened, stas?" she asked, running up to him. and he placed his hand on her little head and solemnly said: "nell, pray to god for water; otherwise we all shall perish." so the little maiden upraised her pale little face and, fastening her eyes on the moon's silvery shield, began to implore for succor him who in heaven causes the stars to revolve and on earth tempers the wind for the shorn lamb. after a sleepless, noisy, and anxious night the sun rolled upon the horizon suddenly, as it always does under the equator, and a bright day followed. on the grass there was not a drop of dew; on the sky not a cloudlet. stas ordered the guards to assemble the men and delivered a short speech to them. he declared to them that it was impossible to return to the river now, for they of course well knew that they were separated from it by five days' and nights' journey. but on the other hand no one knew whether there was not water in the opposite direction. perhaps even not far away they would find some stream, some rivulet or slough. trees, indeed, could not be seen, but it often happens upon open plains where the strong gale carries away the seeds, trees do not grow even at the water-side. yesterday they saw some big antelopes and a few ostriches running towards the east, which was a sign that yonder there must be some watering place, and in view of this whoever is not a fool and whoever has in his bosom a heart, not of a hare but of a lion or buffalo, will prefer to move forward, though in thirst and pain, rather than to lie down and wait there for vultures or hyenas. and saying this, he pointed with his hand at the vultures, a few of which coursed already in an ill-omened circle above the caravan. after these words the wahimas, whom stas commanded to rise, stood up almost as one man, for, accustomed to the dreadful power of kings, they did not dare to resist. but many of the samburus, in view of the fact that their king faru remained at the lake, did not want to rise, and these said among themselves: "why should we go to meet death when she herself will come to us?" in this manner the caravan proceeded, reduced almost one-half, and it started from the outset in torture. for twenty-four hours the people had not had a drop of water or any other fluid in their mouths. even in a cooler climate this, at labor, would have been an unendurable suffering; and how much more so in this blazing african furnace in which even those who drink copiously perspire the water so quickly that almost at the same moment they can wipe it off their skin with their hands. it was also to be foreseen that many of the men would drop on the way from exhaustion and sunstroke. stas protected nell as best he could from the sun and did not permit her to lean for even a moment out of the palanquin, whose little roof he covered with a piece of white percale in order to make it double. with the rest of the water, which he still had in the rubber bottle, he prepared a strong tea for her and handed it to her when cooled off, without any sugar, for sweets increase thirst. the little girl urged him with tears to drink also; so he placed to his lips the bottle in which there remained scarcely a few thimblefuls of water, and, moving his throat, pretended that he drank it. at the moment when he felt the moisture on his lips it seemed to him that his breast and stomach were aflame and that if he did not quench that flame he would drop dead. before his eyes red spots began to flit, and in his jaws he felt a terrible pain, as if some one stuck a thousand pins in them. his hands shook so that he almost spilt these last drops. nevertheless, he caught only two or three in his mouth with his tongue; the rest he saved for nell. a day of torture and toil again passed, after which, fortunately, a cooler night came. but the following morning the intense heat became terrible. there was not a breath of air. the sun, like an evil spirit, ravaged with living flame the parched earth. the borders of the horizon whitened. as far as the eyes reached not even euphorbias could be seen. nothing--only a burnt, desolate plain, covered with tufts of blackened grass and heather. from time to time there resounded in the immeasurable distance light thunder, but this in fair skies proclaims not storms but a drought. about noon, when the heat became the greatest, it was necessary to halt. the caravan broke ranks in gloomy silence. it appeared that one horse fell and about thirteen of the guards remained on the road. during the rest nobody thought of eating. the people had sunken eyes and cracked lips and on them dried clots of blood. nell panted like a bird, so stas surrendered to her the rubber bottle, and exclaiming: "i drank! i drank!" he ran to the other side of the camp, for he feared that if he remained he would snatch that water from her or would demand that she should share it with him. this perhaps was his most heroic act during the course of the journey. he himself, however, began to suffer horribly. before his eyes there flew continually the red patches. he felt a tightening of his jaws so strongly that he opened and closed them with difficulty. his throat was dry, burning; there was no saliva in his mouth; the tongue was as though wooden. and of course this was but the beginning of the torture for him and for the caravan. the thunder announcing the drought resounded incessantly on the horizon's border. about three o'clock, when the sun passed to the western side of the heavens, stas ordered the caravan to rise and started at its head towards the east. but now hardly seventy men followed him, and every little while some one of them lay down beside his pack to rise nevermore. the heat decreased a few degrees but was still terrible. the still air was permeated as though with the gas of burning charcoal. the people had nothing to breathe and the animals began to suffer no less. in an hour after the start again one of the horses fell. saba panted and his flanks heaved; from his blackened tongue not a drop of froth fell. the king, accustomed to the dry african jungle, apparently suffered the least, but he began to be vicious. his little eyes glittered with a kind of strange light. to stas, and particularly to nell, who from time to time talked to him, he answered still with a gurgle, but when kali carelessly came near him he grunted menacingly and waved his trunk so that he would have killed the boy if he had not jumped aside in time. kali's eyes were bloodshot, the veins in his neck were inflated, and his lips cracked the same as the other negroes. about five o'clock he approached stas and, in a hollow voice which with difficulty issued out of his throat, said: "great master, kali can go no further. let the night come here." stas overcame the pain in his jaws and answered with an effort: "very well. we will stop. the night will bring relief." "it will bring death," the young negro whispered. the men threw the loads off their heads, but as the fever in their thickened blood already reached the highest degree, on this occasion they did not immediately lie down on the ground. their hearts and the arteries in their temples, hands, and limbs pulsated as if in a moment they would burst. the skin of their bodies, drying up and shrinking, began to itch; in their bones they were sensible of an excessive disquiet and in their entrails and throats a fire. some walked uneasily among the packets; others could be seen farther away in ruddy rays of the setting sun as they strolled one after another among the dried tufts as though seeking something, and this continued until their strength was entirely exhausted. then they fell in turn on the ground and lay in convulsions. kali sat, squatting near stas and nell, catching the air with open mouth, and began to repeat entreatingly between one breath and the other: "bwana kubwa, water." stas gazed at him with a glassy stare and remained silent. "bwana kubwa, water!" and after a while: "kali is dying." at this, mea, who for an unknown reason endured thirst the easiest and suffered the least of all, approached, sat close to him, and, embracing his neck with her arms, said in her quiet, melodious voice. "mea wants to die together with kali." a long silence followed. in the meantime the sun set and night covered the region. the sky became dark-blue. on its southern side the cross glistened. above the plain a myriad of stars twinkled. the moon came out from under the earth and began to satiate the darkness with light, and on the west with the waning and pale twilight extended the zodiacal luminosity. the air was transformed into a great luminous gulf. the ever-increasing luster submerged the region. the palanquin, which remained forgotten on the king's back, and the tents glistened, just as whitewashed houses glisten in a bright night. the world sank into silence and sleep encompassed the earth. and in the presence of this stillness and this quiet of nature the people howled from pain and waited for death. on the silvery background of the darkness the gigantic black form of the elephant was strongly outlined. the moon's beams illuminated besides the tents, stas' and nell's dresses and, amid tufts of heather, the dark, shriveled bodies of the negroes and, scattered here and there, piles of packages. before the children sat, propped on his fore legs, saba, and, raising his head towards the moon's shield, he howled mournfully. in stas' soul oscillated only the remnants of thought, changed into a gloomy and despairing feeling that this time there was no help and that all those prodigious toils and efforts, those sufferings, those acts of will and courage, which he had performed during the terrible journey--from medinet to khartûm, from khartûm to fashoda, and from fashoda to the unknown lake--would avail naught, and that an inexorable end of the struggle and of life was approaching. and this appeared to him all the more horrible because this end came during the time of the final journey, at the termination of which lay the ocean. ah! he would not now conduct little nell to the coast; he would not convey her by a steamer to port said, would not surrender her to mr. rawlinson; he himself would not fall into his father's arms and would not hear from his lips that he had acted like a brave boy and like a true pole! the end, the end! in a few days the sun would shine only upon the lifeless bodies and afterwards would dry them up into a semblance of those mummies which slumber in an eternal sleep in the museums in egypt. from torture and fever his mind began to get confused. ante-mortem visions and delusions of hearing crowded upon him. he heard distinctly the voices of the sudânese and bedouins yelling "yalla! yalla!" at the speeding camels. he saw idris and gebhr. the mahdi smiled at him with his thick lips, asking: "do you want to drink at the spring of truth?"--afterwards the lion gazed at him from the rock; later linde gave him a gallipot of quinine and said: "hurry, hurry, for the little one will die." and in the end he beheld only the pale, very dear little face and two little hands stretched out towards him. suddenly he trembled and consciousness returned to him for a moment, for hard by murmured the quiet whisper of nell, resembling a moan: "stas--water!" and she, like kali previously, looked to him only for help. but as twelve hours before he had given her the last drop, he now started up suddenly, and exclaimed in a voice in which vibrated an outburst of pain, despair, and affliction: "oh, nell, i only pretended that i was drinking! for three days i have had nothing in my mouth!" and clasping his head with both hands he ran away in order not to look at her sufferings. he rushed blindly among tufts of grass and heather until he fell upon one of the tufts. he was unarmed. a leopard, lion, or even a big hyena would find in him an easy prey. but only saba came running to him. having smelt at him on all sides, he again began to howl, as if summoning aid for him. nobody, however, hurried with aid. only from above, the moon, quiet and indifferent, looked on him. for a long time the boy lay like dead. he was revived only by a cooler breath of wind, which unexpectedly blew from the east. stas sat up and after a while attempted to rise to return to nell. the cooler wind blew a second time. saba ceased howling and, turning towards the east, began to dilate his nostrils. suddenly he barked once or twice a short, broken bass and dashed ahead. for some time he could not be heard, but soon his barking again resounded. stas rose and, staggering on his numb legs, began to look after him. long journeys, long stays in the jungle, the necessity of holding all his senses in continual restraint, and continual dangers had taught the boy to pay careful heed to everything which was taking place about him. so, notwithstanding the tortures he felt at that moment, notwithstanding his half-conscious mind, through instinct and habit he watched the behavior of the dog. and saba, after the lapse of a certain time, again appeared near him, but was somewhat strangely agitated and uneasy. a few times he raised his eyes at stas, ran around, again rushed ahead, scenting and barking in the heather; again he came back and finally, seizing the boy's clothes, began to pull him in a direction opposite to the camp. stas completely recovered his senses. "what is this?" he thought. "either the dog's mind, from thirst, is disordered or he has scented water. but no! if water was near he would have run to it to drink and would have wet jaws. if it was far away, he would not have scented it--water has no smell. he is not pulling me to antelopes, for he did not want to eat during the evening. nor to beasts of prey. well, what is it?" and suddenly his heart began to beat in his bosom yet more strongly. "perhaps the wind brought him the odor of men?--perhaps--in the distance there is some negro village?--perhaps one of the kites has flown as far--oh, merciful christ! oh, christ!--" and under the influence of a gleam of hope he regained his strength and began to run towards the camp, notwithstanding the obstinacy of the dog, who incessantly barred his way. in the camp nell's form loomed white before him and her weak voice reached him: after a while he stumbled over kali lying on the ground, but he paid no heed to anything. reaching the pack in which the sky-rockets were, he tore it open and drew out one of them. with trembling hands he tied it to a bamboo stick, planted it in a crack in the ground, struck a match and lit the string of the tube hanging at the bottom. after a while a red snake flew upwards with a sputter and a sizzle. stas seized a bamboo pole with both hands in order not to fall and fixed his eyes on the distance. his pulse and his temples beat like sledge hammers; his lips moved in fervent prayer. his last breath, and in it his whole soul, he sent to god. one minute passed, another, a third, and a fourth. nothing! nothing! the boy's hand dropped, his head bowed to the ground, and immense grief flooded his tortured breast. "in vain! in vain!" he whispered. "i will go and sit beside nell and we will die together." at this moment far, far away on the silvery background of the moonlit night, a fiery ribbon suddenly soared upward and scattered into golden stars, which fell slowly, like great tears, upon the earth. "succor!" stas shouted. and immediately these people, who were half-dead a short time before, dashed pell-mell in a race across tufts of shrubs and grass. after the first sky-rocket, a second and third appeared. after that the breeze brought a report as though of tapping, in which it was easy to divine distant shots. stas ordered all the remingtons to be fired, and from that time the colloquy of rifles was not interrupted at all and became more and more distinct. the boy, sitting on a horse, which also as though by a miracle recovered its strength, and keeping nell before him, dashed across the plain towards the saving sounds. beside him rushed saba and after him trumpeted the gigantic king. the two camps were separated by a space of a few miles, but as from both sides they drew to each other simultaneously, the whole trip did not last long. soon the rifle shots could not only be heard but seen. yet one last sky-rocket flew out in the air not farther than a few hundred paces. after that numerous lights glistened. the slight elevation of the ground hid them for a while, but when stas passed it he found himself almost in front of a row of negroes holding in their hands burning torches. at the head of the row were two europeans, in english helmets and with rifles in their hands. with one glance of the eye stas recognized them as being captain glenn and doctor clary. xxv the object of the captain glenn and doctor clary expedition was not at all to find stas and nell. it was a large and abundantly equipped government expedition despatched to explore the eastern and northern slopes of the gigantic mountain kilima-njaro, as well as the little-known vast regions lying north of that mountain. the captain as well as the doctor knew indeed about the abduction of the children from medinet el-fayûm, as intelligence of it was published in the english and arabian papers, but they thought that both were dead or were groaning in slavery under the mahdi, from whom thus far not a european had been rescued. clary, whose sister married rawlinson in bombay and who was very much charmed by little nell during the trip to cairo, felt keenly her loss. but with glenn, he mourned also for the brave boy. several times they sent despatches from mombasa to mr. rawlinson asking whether the children were found, and not until the last unfavorable reply, which came a considerable time before the starting of the caravan, did they finally lose all hope. and it never even occurred to them that the children imprisoned in distant khartûm could appear in that locality. often, however, they conversed about them in the evening after finishing their daily labors, for the doctor could by no means forget the beautiful little girl. in the meantime the expedition advanced farther and farther. after a long stay on the eastern slope of kilima-njaro, after exploring the upper courses of the sabak and tany rivers, as well as kenia mountain, the captain and doctor turned in a northerly direction, and after crossing the marshy guasso-nijiro they entered upon a vast plain, uninhabited and frequented by countless herds of antelopes. after three months of travel the men were entitled to a long rest, so captain glenn, discovering a small lake of wholesome brown water, ordered tents to be pitched near it and announced a ten days' stop. during the stop the white men were occupied with hunting and arranging their geographical and scientific notes, and the negroes devoted themselves to idleness, which is always so sweet to them. now it happened one day that doctor clary, shortly after he arose, when approaching the shore, observed between ten and twenty natives of zanzibar, belonging to the caravan, gazing with upturned faces at the top of a high tree and repeating in a circle: "ndege? akuna ndege? ndege?" (a bird? not a bird? a bird?) the doctor was short-sighted, so he sent to his tent for a field-glass; afterwards he looked through it at the object pointed out by the negroes and great astonishment was reflected upon his countenance. "ask the captain to come here," he said. before the negroes reached him the captain appeared in front of the tent, for he was starting on an antelope-hunt. "look, glenn," the doctor said, pointing with his hand upwards. the captain, in turn, turned his face upwards, shaded his eyes with his hand, and was astonished no less than the doctor. "a kite," he exclaimed. "yes, but the negroes do not fly kites. so where did it come from?" "perhaps some kind of white settlement is located in the vicinity or some kind of mission." "for three days the wind has blown from the west, or from a region unknown and in all probability as uninhabited as this jungle. you know that here there are no settlements or missions." "this is really curious." "we had better get that kite." "it is necessary. perhaps we may ascertain where it came from." the captain gave the order. the tree was a few tens of yards high, but the negroes climbed at once to the top, removed carefully the imprisoned kite, and handed it to the doctor who, glancing at it, said: "there is some kind of inscription on it. we'll see." and blinking with his eyes he began to read. suddenly his face changed, his hands trembled. "glenn," he said, "take this, read it, and assure me that i did not get a sunstroke and that i am in my sound mind." the captain took the bamboo frame to which a sheet was fastened and read as follows: "nelly rawlinson and stanislas tarkowski, sent from khartûm to fashoda and conducted from fashoda east from the nile, escaped from the dervishes. after long months' travel they arrived at a lake lying south of abyssinia. they are going to the ocean. they beg for speedy help." at the side of the sheet they found the following addition written in smaller letters: "this kite, the th in order, was flown from the mountains surrounding a lake unknown to geography. whoever finds it should notify the directory of the canal at port said or captain glenn in mombasa. stanislas tarkowski." when the captain's voice died away, the two friends gazed at each other in silence. "what is this?" doctor clary finally asked. "i do not believe my own eyes!" the captain answered. "this, of course, is no illusion." "no." "it is plainly written, 'nelly rawlinson and stanislas tarkowski.'" "most plainly." "and they may be somewhere in this region." "god rescued them, so it is probable." "thank him for that," exclaimed the doctor fervently. "but where shall we seek them?" "is there no more on the kite?" "there are a few other words but in the place torn by the bough. it is hard to read them." both leaned their heads over the sheet and only after a long time were they able to decipher: "the rainy season passed long ago." "what does that mean?" "that the boy lost the computation of time." "and in this manner he endeavored to indicate the date, therefore this kite may have been sent up not very long ago." "if that is so, they may not be very far from here." the feverish, broken conversation lasted for a while, after which both began to scrutinize the document and discuss every word inscribed upon it. the thing appeared, however, so improbable that if it were not for the fact that this occurred in a region in which there were no europeans at all--about three hundred and seventy-five miles from the nearest coast--the doctor and the captain would have assumed that it was an ill-timed joke, which had been perpetrated by some european children who had read the newspapers describing the abduction, or by wards of missions. but it was difficult not to believe their eyes; they had the kite in hand and the little rubbed inscriptions were plainly in black before them. nevertheless, there were many things which they could not comprehend. where did the children get the paper for the kite? if it had been furnished to them by a caravan, then they would have joined it and would not have appealed for help. for what reason did the boy not attempt to fly with his little companion to abyssinia? why did the dervishes send them east of the nile into an unknown region? in what manner did they succeed in escaping from the hands of the guards? where did they hide? by what miracle through long months of journey did they not die from starvation, or become the prey of wild animals? why were they not killed by savages? to all these questions there was no reply. "i do not understand it, i do not understand it," repeated doctor clary; "this is perhaps a miracle of god." "undoubtedly," the captain answered. after which he added: "but that boy! for that, of course, was his work." "and he did not abandon the little one. may the blessings of god flow upon his head!" "stanley--even stanley would not have survived three days under these circumstances." "and nevertheless they live." "but appeal for help. the stop is ended. we start at once." and so it happened. on the road both friends scrutinized the document continually in the conviction that they might obtain from it an inkling of the direction in which it was necessary for them to go with help. but directions were lacking. the captain led the caravan in a zigzag way, hoping that he might chance upon some trace, some extinct fire, or a tree with a sign carved on the bark. in this manner they advanced for a few days. unfortunately they entered afterwards upon a plain, entirely treeless, covered with high heather and tufts of dried grass. uneasiness began to possess both friends. how easy it was to miss each other in that immeasurable expanse, even with a whole caravan; and how much more so two children, who, as they imagined, crept like two little worms somewhere amid heather higher than themselves! another day passed. neither fires at night nor tin boxes, with notes in them, fastened on the tufts helped them any. the captain and the doctor at times began to lose hope of ever succeeding in finding the children and, particularly, of finding them alive. they sought for them zealously, however, during the following days. the patrols, which glenn sent right and left, finally reported to him that farther on began a desert entirely waterless; so when they accidentally discovered cool water in a cleft it was necessary to halt in order to replenish their supplies for the further journey. the cleft was rather a fissure, a score of yards deep and comparatively narrow. at its bottom flowed a warm spring, seething like boiling water, for it was saturated with carbonic acid. nevertheless, it appeared that the water, after cooling, was good and wholesome. the spring was so abundant that the three hundred men of the caravan could not exhaust it. on the contrary the more water they drew from it the more it flowed, and filled the fissure higher. "perhaps sometime," doctor clary said, "this place will be a resort for the health-seeker, but at present this water is inaccessible for animals because the walls of the fissure are too steep." "could the children chance upon a similar spring?" "i do not know. it may be that more of them can be found in this locality. but if not, then without water they must perish." night fell. fires were lit. nevertheless, a boma was not erected, for there was nothing to build one with. after the evening refreshments, the doctor and the captain sat upon folding chairs, and lighting their pipes, began to converse of that which lay most upon their hearts. "not a trace," declared clary. "it had occurred to me," glenn replied, "to send ten of our men to the ocean coast with a despatch that there is news of the children. but i am glad that i did not do that, as the men would perish on the way, and, even if they reached the coast, why should we awaken vain hopes?" "and revive the pain--" the doctor removed the white helmet from his head and wiped his perspiring forehead. "listen," he said; "if we should return to that lake and order the men to hew down trees and at night light a gigantic bonfire, perhaps the children might descry it." "if they were near we would find them anyway, and if they are far off the rolling ground would hide the fire. here the plain is seemingly level, but in reality is in knobs, wavy as the ocean. besides, by retreating we would definitely lose the possibility of finding even traces of them." "speak candidly. you have no hope?" "my dear sir, we are grown-up, strong, and resourceful men, and think of what would become of us if we two were here alone, even with weapons--but without supplies and men--" "yes! alas--yes! i picture to myself the two children going in such a night across the desert." "hunger, thirst, and wild animals." "and nevertheless the boy writes that under such conditions they proceeded for long months." "there is also something in that which passes my comprehension." for a long time could be heard amid the stillness only the sizzling of the tobacco in the pipes. the doctor gazed into the depth of the night, after which he said in a subdued voice: "it is already late, but sleep has deserted me. and to think that they, if alive, are straying somewhere in the moonlight amid these dry heathers--alone--such children! do you remember, glenn, the little one's angelic countenance?" "i remember it, and cannot forget." "ah, i would allow my hand to be cut off, if--" and he did not finish, for glenn started up suddenly as if scalded. "a sky-rocket in the distance!" he shouted. "a sky-rocket!" repeated the doctor. "some kind of caravan is ahead of us." "which might have found the children." "perhaps. let us hurry to them." "forward!" the captain's orders resounded in one moment throughout the camp. the zanzibarians sprang up suddenly on their feet. soon torches were lit. glenn in reply to the distant signal directed that a few rockets, one after the other, be sent up; and afterwards that the salvo of rifle shots be continued. before a quarter of an hour elapsed the whole camp was on the way. from the distance shots replied. there was no doubt that this was some kind of european caravan, appealing, from unknown reasons, for help. the captain and the doctor raced forward, swept alternately by fear and hope. would they find the children or would they not? the doctor said in his soul that, if not, they in the further journey could seek only for their remains amid those terrible heather-bushes. after a half-hour one of those knobs, of which they had spoken before, obstructed the further view of the friends. but they were already so near that they heard distinctly the clatter of a horse's hoofs. in a few minutes, and on the top of the elevation, appeared a rider, holding before him a white object. "torches up," commanded glenn. in the same moment the rider brought his horse into the circle of light. "water! water!" "the children!" doctor clary cried. "water!" stas repeated. and he almost hurled nell into the captain's arms and leaped out of the saddle. but immediately he staggered, and fell like a corpse upon the ground. conclusion joy in the camp of captain glenn and doctor clary was boundless, but the curiosity of both englishmen was subjected to a severe test. for if previously they could not comprehend how the children by themselves could cross those vast wilds and deserts separating that region from the nile and fashoda, then at present they could not at all understand in what manner "the little pole," as they called stas, not only accomplished that but appeared before them as the leader of a caravan, armed with european weapons--with an elephant bearing a palanquin, with horses, tents, and a considerable supply of provisions. at the sight of this, the captain spread out his arms and said every little while: "clary, i have seen a great deal but i have not seen such a boy,"--and the honest doctor repeated with no less astonishment: "and he rescued the little one from slavery and saved her!" after which he hastened to the tents to see how the children were and whether they slept well. and the children, having appeased their thirst and hunger and changed their clothes, slept as though slain, during the whole of the following day; the people in their caravan did the same. captain glenn tried to question kali about stas' deeds and adventures during the journey, but the young negro, opening one eye, only answered: "the great master can do everything,"--and again fell asleep. it positively became necessary to postpone questions and explanations for a few days. in the meantime the two friends conferred over the return journey to mombasa. they had, as it was, penetrated farther and explored more territory than they were commissioned to; they decided, therefore, to return without delay. the captain indeed was lured very much by that lake unknown to geography, but a regard for the health of the children and a desire to return them as quickly as possible to their afflicted fathers prevailed. the doctor insisted, however, that it would be necessary to rest on the cool heights of kenia mountain or mount kilima-njaro. from there they also decided to send news to the parents and summon them to come to mombasa. the return journey began, after due rest and baths in the warm springs, on the third day. it was at the same time a day of parting from kali. stas persuaded the little one that to take him farther with them--to the ocean or to egypt--would be selfishness on their part. he said to her that in egypt, and even in england, kali would be nothing more than a servant, while when he assumed the government of his nation, he, as king, could spread and establish christianity, soften the savage customs of the wahimas, and make of them not only a civilized but a good people. the same thing he repeated in substance to kali. at the leave-taking, however, a multitude of tears were shed of which even stas was not ashamed, for he and nell had passed with kali through many evil and good moments and not only had learned to appreciate his honest heart, but had conceived a sincere affection for him. the young negro lay long at the feet of his "bwana kubwa" and the "good mzimu." twice he returned to look at them for a while, but finally the moment of separation came and the two caravans started in opposite directions. it was only during the journey that the narrative of the adventures of the two little travelers began. stas, at one time prone to be a trifle boastful, now did not brag at all. he simply had performed too many great deeds, he had undergone too much, and was too developed not to understand that words should not be greater than acts. there was, after all, enough of deeds, though related in the most modest manner. each day during the scorching "white hours" and at evening during the stops there glided before the eyes of captain glenn and doctor clary pictures, as it were, of those occurrences and incidents through which the children had passed. so they saw the kidnapping from medinet-el-fayûm and the awful journey on camel-back across the desert--and khartûm and omdurmân, resembling hell on earth, and the ill-boding mahdi. when stas related his reply to the mahdi, when the latter tried to induce him to change his faith, both friends rose and each of them warmly shook stas' right hand, after which the captain said: "the mahdi is not living!" "the mahdi is not living?" stas repeated with astonishment. "yes," spoke out the doctor. "he choked himself with his own fat, or, in other words, he died of heart trouble, and the succession of his government has been assumed by abdullahi." a long silence ensued. "ha!" said stas. "he did not expect when he despatched us for our destruction to fashoda that death would first overtake him." and later he added: "but abdullahi is still more cruel than the mahdi." "for that reason mutinies and massacres have already begun," the captain replied, "and the whole edifice which the mahdi reared will sooner or later tumble down." "and after that who will succeed?" "england," the captain answered.* [*the reign of abdullahi continued for ten years. the decisive blow to the dervish power was delivered by lord kitchener, who almost totally annihilated them in a great bloody battle and afterwards ordered the mahdi's tomb to be razed.] in the further course of the journey, stas told about his journey to fashoda, about the death of old dinah, of their start from fashoda to uninhabited regions, and their search for smain in them. when he reached that part where he killed the lion and afterwards gebhr, chamis, and the two bedouins, the captain interrupted him with only two words: "all right!" after which he again squeezed his right hand, and with clary listened with increasing interest about the taming of the king, about settling in cracow, about nell's fever, of finding linde, and the kites which the children sent up from karamojo mountains. the doctor who, with each day, became more and more deeply attached to little nell, was impressed so much by everything which threatened her most, that from time to time he had to strengthen himself with a few swallows of brandy, and when stas began to narrate how she almost became the prey of the dreadful "wobo" or "abasanto," he caught the little maid in his arms as if in fear that some new beast of prey was threatening her life. and what he and the captain thought of stas was best evidenced by two despatches, which within two weeks after their arrival at the foot-hills of kilima-njaro they expressly sent to the captain's deputy in mombasa with instructions that the latter should transmit them to the fathers. the first one, edited carefully, for fear that it should create too astounding a sensation, and forwarded to port said, contained the following words: "thanks to boy, favorable news about children. come to mombasa." the second, more explicit, addressed to aden, was of this purport: "children are with us. well. boy a hero." on the cool heights at the foot of kilima-njaro they stopped fifteen days, as doctor clary insisted that this was imperative for nell's health, and even for stas'. the children with their whole souls admired this heaven-kissing mountain, which possesses all the climates of the world. its two peaks, kibo and kima-wenze, during daytime were most frequently hidden in thick fogs. but when in fair nights the fogs suddenly dispersed and from the twilight the eternal snows on kima-wenze blushed with a rosy luster at a time when the whole world was plunged in darkness, the mountain appeared like a bright altar of god, and the hands of both children at this sight involuntarily were folded in prayer. for stas the days of worry, uneasiness and exertion had passed. they had yet before them a month of travel to mombasa and the road led through the charming but unhealthy forest of taveta; but how much easier it was to travel now, with a numerous caravan well provided with everything and over familiar trails, than formerly to stray in the wilderness with only kali and mea. besides, captain glenn was now responsible for the journey. stas rested and hunted. aside from this, having found among the implements of the caravan a chisel and hammers, he was in the cooler hours engaged in chiseling upon a great gneiss rock the inscription "jeszcze polska nie zginela,"* [* "poland is not yet lost." the title of the most popular polish national march.--_translator's note_.] for he wished to leave some trace of their sojourn in that region. the englishmen, to whom he translated the inscription, were astonished that it never occurred to the boy to perpetuate his own name on that rock. but he preferred to carve the words he had chosen. he did not cease, however, to take care of nell and awoke in her such unbounded confidence that when clary asked her whether she did not fear the storms on the red sea, the little maid raised her beautiful, calm eyes and only answered, "stas will know what to do." captain glenn claimed that truer evidence of what stas was to the little one and greater praise for the boy no one would be able to pronounce. though the first despatch to pan tarkowski at port said had been worded with much care, it nevertheless created such a powerful sensation that joy almost killed nell's father. but pan tarkowski, though he was an exceptionally self-controlled person, in the first moments after the receipt of the despatch, knelt in prayer and began to beseech god that the intelligence should not prove to be a delusion, a morbid chimera, bred from sorrow, longing, and pain. why, they had both toiled so hard to learn that the children were even alive! mr. rawlinson had despatched to the sudân whole caravans, while pan tarkowski, disguised as an arab, had penetrated with the greatest danger to his life as far as khartûm, but all was futile. the men who could have given any news died of smallpox, of starvation, or perished during the continual massacres, and of the children there was not the slightest clue. in the end both fathers lost all hope and lived only on recollections, in the deep conviction that here in life now nothing awaited them and that only death would unite them with those dearest beings who were everything for them in the world. in the meantime unexpected joy, almost beyond their strength, fell upon them. but it was linked with uncertainty and amazement. neither could by any means comprehend in what manner news of the children came from that part of africa, that is, mombasa. pan tarkowski supposed that they might have been ransomed or stolen by some arabian caravan which from the eastern coast ventured into the interior for ivory and penetrated as far as the nile. the words of the despatch, "thanks to boy," he explained in this manner: that stas had notified the captain and the doctor by letter where he with nell could be found. nevertheless, many things it was impossible to unravel. on the other hand, pan tarkowski understood quite clearly that the information not only was favorable, but very favorable, as otherwise the captain and the doctor would not have dared to awaken hopes in them, and above all would not have summoned them to mombasa. the preparations for the journey were brief, and the second day after the receipt of the despatches both engineers, with nell's teacher, were on the deck of a great steamer of the "peninsular and oriental company," which was en route for india and on the way stopped at aden, mombasa, and zanzibar. at aden awaited them the second despatch: "children are with us. well. boy a hero." after reading it mr. rawlinson walked about almost out of his senses from joy, and, squeezing pan tarkowski's palm, he repeated: "you see, it was he who saved her. to him i owe her life." pan tarkowski, not desiring to display too much weakness, answered only, setting his teeth, "yes! the boy acquitted himself bravely," but when he retired to the privacy of his cabin he wept from happiness. at last the hour arrived when the children fell into the embraces of their fathers. mr. rawlinson seized his recovered little treasure in his arms and pan tarkowski long clasped his heroic boy to his bosom. their misfortune disappeared as pass away whirlwinds and storms of the desert. their lives were filled anew with serenity and happiness; longing and separation had augmented their joy. but the children were surprised that the hair of their "papas" had whitened completely during the separation. they returned to suez on a splendid french steamer belonging to the "messageries maritimes company," which was full of travelers from the islands réunion, mauritius, madagascar, and zanzibar. when the news spread that on board were children who had escaped from dervish slavery stas became an object of general curiosity and universal praise. but the happy quartette preferred to lock themselves in a great cabin which the captain gave up to them and spend there the cooler hours in narrations. nell, too, took part in them, chirping like a little bird, and at the same time, to the amusement of all, beginning each sentence with an "and." so, sitting on her father's knees and raising to him her beautiful little eyes, she spoke in this manner: "and, papa, they kidnapped us and conveyed us on camels--and gebhr struck me--and stas defended me--and we came to khartûm and there people died of hunger--and stas worked to get dates for me--and we were at the mahdi--and stas did not want to change his religion--and the mahdi sent us to fashoda--and afterwards stas killed a lion and all of them--and we lived in a big tree, which is called cracow--and the king was with us--and i had a fever and stas cured me--and killed a wobo and conquered the samburus--and was always very kind to me--papa!" in the same fashion she spoke about kali, mea, the king, saba, mount linde, the kites, and the final journey until their meeting with the captain's and doctor's caravan. mr. rawlinson, listening to this chirping, checked his tears with difficulty, while pan tarkowski could not contain himself from pride and happiness, for even from these childish narratives it appeared that were it not for the bravery and energy of the boy the little one ran the risk of perishing, not once but a thousand times, without help. stas gave a more specific and complete account of everything. and it happened that during the narration of the journey from fashoda to the waterfall, a great load fell off his heart, for when he told how he shot gebhr and his companions, he hemmed and hawed and began to look uneasily at his father, while pan tarkowski knitted his brow, pondered a while, and after that gravely said: "listen, stas! it is not allowable for any one to be lavish with death, but if anybody menaces your fatherland or puts in jeopardy the life of your mother, sister, or the life of a woman entrusted to your care, shoot him in the head and ask no questions. do not reproach yourself on that account." mr. rawlinson immediately after the return to port said took nell to england, where he settled permanently. stas was sent by his father to a school in alexandria, where his deeds and adventures were less known. the children corresponded almost daily, but circumstances combined to prevent their seeing each other for ten years. the boy, after finishing school in egypt, entered the polytechnic in zurich, after which, having secured his diploma, he was engaged in the construction of tunnels in switzerland. when ten years had passed, pan tarkowski retired from the service of the canal company, and he and stas visited their friends in england. mr. rawlinson invited them to his home, near hampton court, for the whole summer. nell had finished her eighteenth year and had grown into a maiden as charming as a flower, and stas became convinced, at the expense of his own peace, that a man, who had completed twenty-four years, could nevertheless still think of ladies. he even thought of beautiful and dear nell so incessantly that finally he decided to run away to whatever place his eyes would lead him. but while in that state of mind, mr. rawlinson one day placed both of his palms on stas' shoulders and, looking him straight in the eyes, said with an angelic benignity: "tell me, stas, whether there is a man in the world to whom i could give my treasure and darling with greater confidence?" the young couple married and remained in england until mr. rawlinson's death and a year later they started upon a long journey. as they promised to themselves to visit those localities in which they had spent their earliest years and afterwards at one time had wandered as children, they proceeded first of all to egypt. the state of the mahdi and abdullahi had already been overthrown, and after its fall england, as captain glenn stated, "succeeded." a railroad was built from cairo to khartûm. the "sudds," or the nilotic obstructions of growing water plants, were cleared so that the young couple could in a comfortable steamer reach not only fashoda but the great lake victoria nyanza. from the city of florence lying on the shores of that lake they proceeded by a railroad to mombasa. captain glenn and doctor clary had already removed to natal, but in mombasa there lived under the solicitous care of the local english authorities the king. the giant at once recognized his former master and mistress and particularly greeted nell with such joyful trumpeting that the mangrove trees in the neighborhood shook as if they were swept by the wind. he recognized also old saba, who outlived almost two-fold the years usually allotted to a dog and, though a trifle blind, accompanied stas and nell everywhere. here also stas learned the kali enjoyed good health; that under the english protectorate he ruled the entire region south of lake rudolf, and that he had introduced missionaries who were spreading christianity among the local savage tribes. after this journey the young couple returned to europe and, with stas' venerable father, settled permanently in poland. the end typographical error silently corrected: part ii chapter : =stas rose at once= replaced by =saba rose at once= chapter : =is n't he wise= replaced by =isn't he wise= chapter : =is n't it true= replaced by =isn't it true= produced from images generously made available by the internet archive.) fire and sword in the sudan. [illustration: lemerciergravure printed in paris rudolph c. slatin] fire and sword in the sudan _a personal narrative of fighting and serving the dervishes._ - . by rudolf c. slatin pasha, c.b. colonel in the egyptian army (intelligence dept.); formerly governor and commandant of the troops in darfur. _translated by_ major f. r. wingate, c.b., d.s.o., r.a. _director of military intelligence, egyptian army_; author of "mahdism and the egyptian sudan," "ten years' captivity in the mahdi's camp," etc. illustrated by r. talbot kelly, r.b.a. edward arnold. london: new york: , bedford street. , fifth avenue. . _copyright, _, by edward arnold. university press: john wilson and son, cambridge, u.s.a. to her most gracious majesty the queen of great britain and ireland and empress of india who has ever shown deep solicitude for and gracious sympathy with the european prisoners in the sudan _this record of his life in captivity_ is by permission humbly dedicated by her majesty's most devoted and grateful rudolf c. slatin preface. prompted by the earnest entreaties of my friends rather than by any wish of my own to relate my experiences, i have written these chapters. the few months which have elapsed since my escape have been so much occupied in resuming my official duties, compiling reports, and satisfying the kindly interest displayed by a large number of people in my strange fate, that any attempt at quiet and steady literary work has been almost impossible. during my captivity i was unable to make any notes or keep any diaries; in writing, therefore, the following pages, i have been dependent entirely on my memory, whilst the whirl of the busy european world and the constant interruptions to which i have alluded, have given me little time to collect my scattered thoughts. when, therefore, after having been debarred for so many years from intercourse with outside affairs, and entirely out of practice in writing down my ideas, i find myself urged to lose no time in publishing an account of my adventures, i must beg my readers to excuse the many defects they may notice. my experiences have no pretence to being of any literary or scientific value, and the personal episodes i have described can lay claim to little importance; i have merely attempted to give to those interested in sudan affairs a true and faithful account of my life whilst fighting and serving the mahdists. rudolf slatin. london, _october, _. introductory note by father don joseph ohrwalder, late priest of the austrian mission station at delen, in kordofan, and for ten years a captive in the mahdi's camp. the joy at meeting my dear friend and former comrade in captivity, slatin pasha, in cairo, after his miraculous escape, was indeed great; and it is with extreme gratification that i comply with the wishes of those friends who are interested in his experiences, to preface them with a few remarks. to have been a fellow-sufferer with him for many years, during which the closest friendship existed between us,--a friendship which, owing to the circumstances of our captivity, was necessarily of a surreptitious nature, but which, interrupted as it was, mutually helped to alleviate our sad lot,--is i think a sufficiently good reason for my friends to urge that i should comply with their wishes. apart, however, from these purely personal motives, i need only refer to the fact that the small scraps of information which from time to time reached the outside world regarding slatin pasha, excited the deepest sympathy for his sad fate; what wonder, then, that there should have been a genuine outburst of rejoicing when he at length escaped from the clutches of the tyrannical khalifa, and emerged safely from the dark sudan? it is most natural that all those interested in the weal and woe of africa should await with deep interest all that slatin pasha can tell them of affairs in the former egyptian sudan, which only a few short years ago was considered the starting point for the civilisation of the dark continent, and which now, fallen, alas! under the despotic rule of a barbarous tyrant, forms the chief impediment to the civilising influences so vigorously at work in all other parts of africa. slatin pasha pleads with perfect justice that, deprived all these years of intellectual intercourse, he cannot do justice to the subject; nevertheless, i consider that it is his bounden duty to describe without delay his strange experiences, and i do not doubt that--whatever literary defects there may be in his work--the story of his life cannot fail to be both of interest and of value in helping those concerned in the future of this vast country to realise accurately its present situation. it should be remembered that slatin pasha held high posts in the sudan, he has travelled throughout the length and breadth of the country and--a perfect master of the language--he has had opportunities which few others have had to accurately describe affairs such as they were in the last days of the egyptian administration; whilst his experiences during his cruel captivity place him in a perfectly unique position as the highest authority on the rise, progress, and wane of that great religious movement which wrenched the country from its conquerors, and dragged it back into an almost indescribable condition of religious and moral decadence. thrown into contact with the principal leaders of the revolt, unwillingly forced to appear and live as one of them, he has been in the position of following in the closest manner every step taken by the mahdi and his successor, the khalifa, in the administration of their newly founded empire. sad fate, it is true, threw me also into the swirl of this great movement; but i was merely a captive missionary, whose very existence was almost forgotten by the rulers of the country, whilst slatin pasha was in the vortex itself of this mighty whirlpool which swamped one by one the egyptian garrisons, and spread far and wide over the entire sudan. if, therefore, there should be any discrepancies between the account published some three years ago of my captivity and the present work, the reader may safely accept slatin pasha's conclusions as more correct and accurate than my own; the opinions i expressed of the khalifa's motives and intentions, and of the principal events which occurred, are rather those of an outsider when compared to the intimate knowledge which slatin pasha was enabled to acquire, by reason of his position in continuous and close proximity to abdullahi. in concluding, therefore, these remarks, i will add an earnest hope that this book will arouse a deep and wide-spread interest in the fate of the unhappy sudan, and will help those concerned to come to a right and just decision as to the steps which should be taken to restore to civilisation this once happy and prosperous country. that the return of slatin pasha from, so to speak, a living grave should bring about this restoration, is the fervent prayer of his old comrade in captivity and devoted friend, don joseph ohrwalder. suakin, _june, _. translator's note. in preparing the edition in english of slatin pasha's experiences in the sudan, i have followed the system adopted in father ohrwalder's "ten years' captivity in the mahdi's camp." f. r. wingate. london, _october, _. contents. chapter i. introductory. page my first journey to the sudan--return to austria--my second journey--corruption in the sudan--appointed governor of dara--gordon in darfur--he suppresses the slave-trade--zubeir pasha and his son suleiman--the gellabas, jaalin, and danagla--retrospect of the first causes of the revolt in bahr el ghazal--gessi's campaigns--the flight of rabeh--execution of suleiman zubeir--effect of the campaign on the local arabs chapter ii. residence in darfur, and early history of the province. arrival at om shanga--matrimonial difficulties--a sudanese falstaff--description of el fasher--the furs and the tago--a tale of love and perfidy--founding of the tungur dynasty--conquest of darfur by zubeir pasha--the rizighat tribe--quarrel between zubeir pasha and the governor-general--both recalled to cairo--gordon governor-general of the sudan--i take up my duties at dara--zogal bey the sub-governor--i undertake a campaign against sultan harun--niurnia, harun's stronghold in jebel marra--i defeat the sultan at rahad en nabak--death of harun--my meeting with dr. felkin and the rev. wilson--my boy kapsun--gordon's letter from abyssinia chapter iii. the government of darfur. government administration in dara--my difficulties with the gellabas--manners and customs of the arabs--arrival at shakka--madibbo bey sheikh of the rizighat--my visit to khartum--arrival of gessi in khartum--i return west with bishop comboin and father ohrwalder--am appointed governor-general of darfur--hostilities between the maharia and bedeyat arabs--i proceed to the bedeyat country--strange manners and customs of the bedeyat--saleh donkusa and heglik tree--the ceremony of taking the oath of fidelity--return to el fasher--troubles at shakka and death of emiliani--i leave for dara chapter iv. the khalifa's personal account of the rise of the mahdi. early life of mohammed ahmed, the mahdi--the religious tarikas--mohammed ahmed quarrels with his religious superior--he is refused forgiveness, and joins a rival sheikh--he is joined by abdullahi et taaishi--the mahdi secretly tells abdullahi of his divine mission--the failure to seize mohammed ahmed on abba island--the mahdi's hejra to jebel gedir--he nominates his khalifas--the defeat of rashed bey and yusef pasha shellali--effect of the mahdi's victories in kordofan--the mahdi's intrigues with the inhabitants of el obeid--futility of the steps taken by the government to cope with the revolt chapter v. spread of the revolt in southern darfur. i arrive at dara--despatch of an officer to shakka--character of zogal bey--return to el fasher--causes of my unpopularity with the officers--disturbances at om shanga--the southern tribes join the revolt--i make dara my headquarters--the power of a woman's tongue--immorality of the maalia tribe--sheikh madibbo threatens shakka--cowardly conduct of mansur helmi--i proceed to his assistance--i commence my campaign against the southern arab tribes--the night attack on madibbo's camp--mansur helmi's cowardly retreat from shakka--he deserts his own men--courageous conduct of ali agha juma--i decide to retake dara at all costs--difficulty of enforcing my orders chapter vi. the siege and fall of el obeid. said pasha, governor-general of kordofan, prepares to defend el obeid--the mahdi attacks the town, but is repulsed with great loss--the missionaries at delen fall into the mahdi's hands--the siege and fall of bara--the horrors of the siege of el obeid--said pasha is forced to surrender--his interview with the mahdi--the search for treasure--the mahdi's miracles--effect of the fall of el obeid on the general situation chapter vii. vain efforts to stem the tide of mahdism in darfur. i advance on shakka--the battle of om waragat--besieged in the zariba--my retreat on dara through the enemy's country--the illness and death of gottfried rott--i despatch secret emissaries to kordofan--my difficulties with the el fasher garrison--the revolt of the mima arabs--i learn of the fall of el obeid--the death of sheikh afifi--my campaign against the mima and khawabir arabs--discovery of a plot amongst the troops in dara--my officers and men ascribe our defeats to the fact that i am a christian--i decide to nominally adopt the mohammedan religion--i decide to send zogal bey to el obeid--my campaign against the beni helba--beshari bey seeks death and finds it--gravity of the situation in darfur chapter viii. hicks pasha's expedition. the execution of said pasha and the brave defender of el obeid--spread of belief in the mahdi's divinity--sheikh sennusi is offered, but refuses, the position of mahdi's khalifa--the mahdi begins to organise his government--the spread of the revolt in the gezira--criticisms on the attitude of the egyptian government--the despatch of osman digna to the eastern sudan--hicks pasha's expedition enters kordofan--incidents on the march--gallantry of colonel farquhar--the diaries of farquhar and vizetelly--the desertion of gustav klootz--the mahdists harass the expedition--the final attack on the doomed square--incidents after the battle--extracts from o'donovan's diary--the mahdi's triumphal entry into el obeid chapter ix. the fall of darfur. dara besieged by madibbo--i make a successful counter-attack--the overthrow of darho--i decide to remain at dara--the defeat of kuku agha--a strange expedient for concealing letters--an armistice proposed and accepted between myself and the besiegers--i resort to stratagem to gain time--zogal writes from el obeid, and describes the annihilation of the relief expedition--i review the situation and decide to surrender--interview with zogal at shieria--the mahdists enter dara--madibbo and his war-drums--horrible tortures inflicted on the inhabitants who had concealed money--the siege and fall of el fasher--letters from egypt--the dreadful fate of major hamada--the fall of bahr el ghazal--i leave for el obeid chapter x. the siege and fall of khartum. gordon returns to the sudan--the siege of khartum--i join the mahdi at rahad--interviews and first impressions of the mahdi--the oath of allegiance--description of the khalifa--the arrival of hussein pasha--criticisms on gordon's mission--the abandonment of the sudan proclaimed--incidents in various parts of the sudan--the arrival of olivier pain--his mission, illness, and death--arrival outside khartum--i write to gordon--i am arrested and thrown into chains--incidents during my imprisonment--the surrender of omdurman--the delay of the british expedition--khartum is attacked and taken--gordon's head is brought to me--account of the last days of khartum--massacres and atrocities after the fall--the retreat of the british expedition--the rigours of my imprisonment increased--my comrade in captivity, frank lupton--we are both released--i enter the khalifa's body-guard--illness and death of the mahdi--khalifa abdullahi succeeds him--the rules and ordinances of the mahdi chapter xi. early rule of khalifa abdullahi. success of khaled's stratagem to entrap darho--execution of darho--sieges of sennar and kassala--fall of ahmed wad suleiman--the khalifa and the black troops--execution of the mudir of kassala--my journey to abu haraz--my plans of escape impracticable--the khalifa presents me with a wife--mutiny of black soldiers at el obeid--death of the emir mahmud--abu anga seizes khaled and throws him into chains--campaign in the nuba mountains--lupton in difficulties--he works in the khartum dockyard--revolt of the kababish--difficulties begin with abyssinia--death of klootz--organisation of the beit el mal--the khalifa's system of jurisdiction chapter xii. events in various parts of the sudan. karamalla's expedition to the bahr el ghazal--madibbo's quarrel with karamalla--affairs in darfur--execution of madibbo--defeat and death of sheikh saleh el kabbashi--capture of charles neufeld--my interview with him--arrival of abu anga's army in omdurman--destruction of the gehéna tribe--the conspiracy of "saidna isa"--abu anga's campaign in abyssinia--sack of gondar--terrible fate of the captives--osman adam's campaign in darfur--death of sultan yusef--instances of the khalifa's tyranny--building of the mahdi's tomb--letters from home--death of my mother--death of lupton--nejumi ordered to invade egypt chapter xiii. the abyssinian campaign. battle of gallabat--death of king john--the revolt of abu gemmaiza--defeats of the mahdists--death of abu gemmaiza--preparations for the invasion of egypt--execution of sixty-seven batahin arabs--more letters from home--my family send the khalifa a dressing-bag from vienna--immigration of the taaisha tribe--they settle in the nile valley--nejumi advances into egypt--battle of toski--incidents during the great famine--the fall of ibrahim adlan--his execution--the khalifa mistrusts me--i fall into serious danger--i become the unwilling recipient of the khalifa's favours chapter xiv. mahdist occupation of the southern provinces. the mahdist expedition to equatoria--the fate of the remnant of emin's garrison--the campaign against the shilluks--tokar re-captured--death of osman wad adam--dissensions in dongola--the fall of khaled chapter xv. dissension and discord. the revolt of the ashraf--flight of father ohrwalder and the two sisters--the khalifa revenges himself on the ashraf--the seizure and execution of the mahdi's uncles--zeki tummal's return to omdurman laden with booty--khalifa sherif arrested--"where there is no fire there is no smoke"--i change my quarters--sad news from austria--the khalifa falls ill--the story of the bird-messenger--the fall of zeki tummal--the battle of agordat--the capture of kassala--the fate of kadi ahmed--the congo free state in equatoria and bahr el ghazal--i refuse to marry the khalifa's cousin chapter xvi. miscellaneous remarks. the person and characteristics of khalifa abdullahi--the fate of the mahdist chronicler--the princesses of darfur--the khalifa's family life--his harem--the organisation of his body-guard--enforced attendance at the mosque--the postal system--military parades--elevation of the western arabs and oppression of the river tribes--the military situation and strength--guns and ammunition--revenue and expenditure--courage chapter xvii. miscellaneous remarks (_continued_). administration of justice--the kadi el islam--religion in the sudan--the khalifa's sermons--enforced pilgrimage to the mahdi's tomb--limits of the mahdist empire--natural produce--caravan roads--ostrich hunting--trade and commerce--the slave-trade--the slave market--industries--immorality--unpopularity of the khalifa--his ignorance and cruelty--his private apartments--principal buildings in omdurman--description of the city--the prison and its horrors--death of zeki tummal and kadi ahmed chapter xviii. plans for escape. european captives in omdurman--artin, the watchmaker--friends in cairo--efforts of my family to help me--difficulties of communication--babakr abu sebiba's failure--efforts of baron heidler and the egyptian intelligence department--constant failures--osheikh karrar--abderrahman matures his plans--hopes and fears--my plan to gain time--i quit my hut never to return chapter xix. my flight. i escape from the town by night--my guides zeki belal and mohammed--a scare-- miles in hours--our camels break down--hiding in the gilif mountains--precautions against surprise--arrival of fresh camels--our journey to the nile--the crossing--friendly sheikhs--narrow escape from a large armed party of mahdists--difficulties with my guides--hamed garhosh the amrabi--out of danger--assuan at last--congratulations and welcome--arrival in cairo--meeting with old friends chapter xx. conclusion. africa, past and present--the sudan, past and present--rise, progress, and wane of mahdism--how long will it last?--the khalifa's present position--european encroachment--"whites" in the bahr el ghazal--important strategical position of the province--time and tide wait for no man--i recover my long-lost sword--a last word index list of illustrations. page slatin pasha _frontispiece_ gessi pasha's troops advancing to the attack on} "dem suleiman" } to face zubeir pasha " a rizighat warrior " bedayat praying to the sacred tree " surrender of the bedayat to slatin " fight between the rizighat and egyptian troops " a dervish emir " the death of hicks pasha " bringing gordon's head to slatin " an abyssinian scout " a slave dhow on the nile " the mahdi's tomb, omdurman " the execution of the "batahin" " famine-stricken " the khalifa inciting his troops to attack kassala " the khalifa and kadis in council " in the slave market, omdurman " coming from market, omdurman " slatin pasha's flying from omdurman " slatin in hiding in the hills " a camel corps scout " plan of khartum and omdurman. map showing extent of mahdist influence in . fire and sword in the sudan. chapter i. introductory. my first journey to the sudan--return to austria--my second journey--corruption in the sudan--appointed governor of dara--gordon in darfur--he suppresses the slave-trade--zubeir pasha and his son suleiman--the gellabas, jaalin, and danagla--retrospect of the first causes of the revolt in bahr el ghazal--gessi's campaigns--the flight of rabeh--execution of suleiman zubeir--effect of the campaign on the local arabs. in july, , when serving as lieutenant in h. i. h. the crown prince rudolph's regiment, the th foot, on the bosnian frontier, i received a letter from general gordon, inviting me to come to the sudan and take service with the egyptian government, under his direction. i had previously, in , undertaken a journey to the sudan, travelling by assuan, korosko, and berber, and had reached khartum in the month of october of that year; thence i had visited the nuba mountains, and had remained a short time at delen, where a station of the austrian roman catholic mission had just been established. from here i explored the golfan naïma and kadero mountains, and would have made a longer stay in these interesting districts, but the revolt of the hawazma arabs broke out, and, being merely a traveller, i received a summons to return forthwith to el obeid, the chief town of kordofan. the arab revolt, which had arisen over the collection of the excessively high taxes imposed by the government, was soon suppressed; but, under the circumstances, i did not think it worth while returning to the nuba districts, and therefore decided to travel in darfur. at that time the governor-general of the sudan, ismail pasha ayub, was staying at el fasher, the capital of darfur; and on reaching kaga and katul, i found, to my great disappointment, that an order had just been issued prohibiting strangers from entering the country, as it had been only recently subjugated, and was considered unsafe for travellers. i returned therefore, without further delay, to khartum; where i made the acquaintance of emin pasha (then dr. emin), who had arrived a few days previously from egypt in company with a certain karl von grimm. at that time general gordon was governor-general of the equatorial provinces, and was residing at lado; so to him we wrote asking for instructions. two months afterwards the reply came inviting us to visit lado; but in the meantime letters had reached me from my family in vienna urging me to return to europe. i had been suffering considerably from fever, and besides i was under the obligation of completing my military service the following year. i therefore decided to comply with the wishes of my family. dr. emin, however, accepted gordon's invitation, and he started soon afterwards for the south, while i left for the north. before parting, i begged emin to recommend me to general gordon, which he did; and this introduction eventually resulted in my receiving the letter to which i have already referred, three years later. emin, it will be remembered, was, soon after his arrival at lado, granted the rank of bey, and appointed governor of lado; and on gordon's departure he was nominated governor-general of equatoria, in which position he remained until relieved by mr. stanley, in . i returned to egypt by the bayuda desert, dongola, and wadi haifa, and reached austria towards the close of . gordon's letter, received in the midst of the bosnian campaign, delighted me; i longed to return to the sudan in some official capacity; but it was not till december, , when the campaign was over and my battalion had gone into quarters at pressburg, that i received permission, as an officer of the reserve, to set out once more for africa. my brother henry was still in herzegovina; so, remaining only eight days in vienna, to bid the rest of my family farewell, i left for trieste on st december, , little dreaming that nearly seventeen years would elapse, and that i should experience such strange and terrible adventures, before i should see my home again. i was then twenty-two years of age. on arrival in cairo, i received a telegram from giegler pasha, from suez; he had just been appointed inspector-general of sudan telegraphs, and was on his way to massawa, to inspect the line between that place and khartum; he invited me to travel with him as far as suakin, and i gladly availed myself of his kind offer. we parted at suakin, he proceeding by steamer to massawa, while i made preparations to cross the desert to berber on camels. i received every assistance from ala ed din pasha, who was then governor, and who subsequently, as governor-general of the sudan, accompanied hicks pasha, and was killed with him when the entire egyptian force was annihilated at shekan, in november, . on reaching berber, i found a dahabia awaiting me there by general gordon's orders, and, embarking immediately, i arrived at khartum on th january, . here i was shown every kindness and consideration; gordon placed at my disposal a house situated not far from the palace, and a certain ali effendi was directed to attend to all my wants. in the course of our daily meetings, general gordon used often to talk of the austrian officers whom he had met at tultcha, when on the danube commission, and for whom he entertained a genuine friendship. i remember his saying to me that he thought it was such a mistake to have changed our smart white jackets for the blue uniform we now wear. early in february, gordon appointed me financial inspector, and i was instructed to travel about the country and examine into the complaints of the sudanese who objected to the payment of the taxes, which were not considered unreasonably heavy. in compliance with these orders, i proceeded _via_ mesallamia to sennar and fazogl, whence i visited the mountain districts of kukeli, regreg, and kashankero, in the neighbourhood of beni shangul; and then i submitted my report to general gordon. in this report i pointed out that, in my opinion, the distribution of taxes was unjust, and resulted in the bulk of taxation falling on the poorer landed proprietors, whilst those who were better off had no difficulty in bribing the tax-gatherers, for a comparatively small sum, to secure exemption. thus enormous quantities of land and property entirely escaped taxation, whilst the poorer classes were mercilessly ground down, in order to make up the heavy deficit which was the result of this most nefarious system. i further pointed out that much of the present discontent was due to the oppressive and tyrannical methods of the tax-gatherers, who were for the most part soldiers, bashi-bozuks, and shaigias. these unscrupulous officials thought only of how to enrich themselves as quickly as possible at the expense of the unfortunate populations, over whom they exercised a cruel and brutal authority. in the course of my journey, i frequently observed that the property of the sudan officials--for the most part shaigias and turks--was almost invariably exempted from taxation; and, on inquiry, i was always told that this privilege had been procured, owing to the special services they had rendered the government. when i remarked that they received pay for their services, they appeared greatly offended and annoyed. however, on my arresting some of the principal delinquents, they admitted that their taxes were justly due. in mesallamia, which is a large town situated between the blue and white niles, and a considerable trade centre, i found an immense collection of young women, the property of the wealthiest and most respected merchants, who had procured them and sold them for immoral purposes, at high prices. this was evidently a most lucrative trade; but how were the establishments of these merchants to be taxed, and what action was i to take? i confess that ideas and experience on this point quite failed me; and feeling my utter inability under these circumstances to effect any reform, and having at the same time little or no financial experience, i felt it was useless to continue, and therefore sent in my resignation. meanwhile, gordon had gone off to darfur, with the object of inquiring into the circumstances connected with the campaign against suleiman, the son of zubeir pasha; but before leaving he had promoted giegler to the rank of pasha, intrusting him with the position of acting governor-general during his absence. i therefore took the occasion to send him my report and resignation by the same post, and soon afterwards received a telegram from gordon, approving my resignation of the position of financial inspector. it was an immense relief to me to be free from this hateful task; i had no qualms of conscience, for i felt my utter inability to cope with the situation, such as i found it,--radically wrong, and corrupt through and through. a few days later, i received a telegram from gordon, appointing me mudir of dara, comprising the southwestern districts of darfur, and ordering me to start at once, as i was required to conduct military operations against sultan harun, the son of a former sultan, and who was bent on endeavouring to wrest back his country from its egyptian conquerors. gordon further instructed me to meet him, on his return journey, somewhere between el obeid and tura el hadra, on the white nile. having despatched my camels to this spot, where gordon's steamer was waiting for him, i embarked without further delay, and on landing at tura el hadra, i proceeded west, and after two hours' ride reached the telegraph station of abu garad, where i learnt that gordon was only four or five hours distant, and was on his way to the nile. i therefore started off again, and in a few hours found him halted under a large tree. he was evidently very tired and exhausted after his long ride, and was suffering from sores on his legs. i had fortunately brought some brandy with me from the stock on board his own steamer, and he was soon sufficiently revived to continue his journey. he asked me to come back with him to tura el hadra, to discuss the darfur situation with him, and to give me the necessary instructions. he also introduced me to two members of his suite, hassan pasha helmi el juwaizer, formerly governor-general of kordofan and darfur, and to yusef pasha esh shellali, who was the last to join gessi in his campaign against suleiman zubeir and the slave hunters. we were soon in the saddle; but gordon shot far ahead of us, and we found it impossible to keep up with his rapid pace. we soon reached tura el hadra, where the baggage camels, which had previously been sent on ahead, had already arrived. as the steamers were anchored in mid-stream, we were rowed out in a boat. i found myself sitting in the stern, next yusef pasha esh shellali, and, as a drinking-cup was near him and i was thirsty, i begged him to dip it into the river, and give me a drink. gordon, noticing this, turned to me, smiling, and said, in french, "are you not aware that yusef pasha, in spite of his black face, is very much your senior in rank? you are only the mudir of dara, and you should not have asked him to give you a drink." i at once apologised in arabic to yusef pasha, adding that i had asked him for the water in a moment of forgetfulness; to which he replied that he was only too pleased to oblige me or any one else to whom he could be of service. on reaching the steamers, gordon and i went on board the "ismaïlia," while yusef pasha and hassan pasha went on the "bordein." gordon explained to me in the fullest detail the state of darfur, saying that he hoped most sincerely the campaign against sultan harun would be brought to a successful close, for the country for years past had been the scene of continuous fighting and bloodshed, and was sorely in need of rest. he also told me that he believed gessi's campaign against suleiman zubeir would soon be over; before long, he must be finally defeated or killed, for he had lost most of his bazinger troops (rifle-bearing blacks), and it was impossible for him to sustain the continual losses which gessi had inflicted on him. it was past ten o'clock when he bade me "good-bye." he had previously ordered the fires to be lighted, as he was starting that night for khartum, and, as i stepped over the side, he said, in french, "good-bye, my dear slatin, and god bless you; i am sure you will do your best under any circumstances. perhaps i am going back to england, and if so, i hope we may meet there." these were the last words i ever heard him utter; but who could have imagined the fate that was in store for both of us? i thanked him heartily for his great kindness and help, and on reaching the river-bank, i stopped there for an hour, waiting for the steamer to start. then i heard the shrill whistle, and the anchor being weighed, and in a few minutes gordon was out of sight--gone for ever! on the following morning, mounted on the pony which gordon had given me, and which carried me continuously for upwards of four years, i started off for abu garad, and, travelling thence by abu shoka and khussi, reached el obeid, where i found dr. zurbuchen, the sanitary inspector. he was about to start for darfur, and we agreed to keep each other company as far as dara. we hired baggage camels through the assistance of ali bey sherif, the governor of kordofan; and just as we were about to set out, he handed me a telegram which had been sent from foga, situated on the eastern frontier of darfur; it was from gessi, announcing that suleiman zubeir had fallen at gara on th july, : thus was gordon's prediction verified that suleiman must soon submit or fall. it may not be out of place here to give a brief account of this campaign; its principal features are probably well known, but it is possible i may be able to throw fresh light on some details which, though almost twenty years have now elapsed, still possess an interest, inasmuch as it was this campaign which was the means of bringing to the front a man whose strange exploits in the far west of africa are now exercising the various european powers who are pressing in from the west coast, towards the lake chad regions. i refer to rabeh, or, as i find he is now called, rabeh zubeir. after the conquest of darfur, zubeir, who had by this time been appointed pasha, was instructed by the then governor of the sudan, ismail pasha, to reside in the dara and shakka districts. at this particular period relations between ismail and zubeir were strained; the latter had complained of the unnecessarily heavy taxation, and had begged the khedive's permission to be allowed to come to cairo to personally assure his highness of his loyalty and devotion. permission had been granted, and he had left for cairo. soon afterwards ismail pasha ayub also left darfur, and hassan pasha el juwaizer succeeded him as governor; while suleiman, the son of zubeir, was nominated as his father's representative, and was instructed to proceed to shakka. gordon, it will be remembered, had also succeeded ismail ayub as governor-general, and had paid a visit of inspection to darfur with the object of quieting the country, and introducing, by his presence and supervision, a more stable form of government. on th june, , gordon arrived at foga, and from there sent instructions to suleiman zubeir to meet him at dara. previous to this, information had reached him that suleiman was not satisfied with his position, and was much disturbed by the news that his father was detained in cairo by order of the government. it is said that zubeir had sent letters to his son urging on him and his followers that, under any circumstances, they should be independent of the egyptian government; and as it was well known that suleiman's object was to maintain his father's authority in the country, his discontent was a factor which it was not possible to ignore. from foga, gordon proceeded by om shanga to el fasher, where he inspected the district and gave instructions for a fort to be built; and after a few days' stay there he came on to dara, where suleiman, with upwards of four thousand well-armed bazingers, had already arrived, and was encamped in the open plain lying to the south of the fort. conflicting opinions prevailed in suleiman's camp in regard to the order that they were to move to shakka. most of his men had taken part in the conquest of darfur, and consequently imagined that they had a sort of prescriptive right to the country, and they did not at all fancy handing over these fertile districts to the turkish and egyptian officials; moreover, suleiman and his own immediate household were incensed against what they considered the unjust detention of zubeir pasha in cairo, and it was evident they were doing all in their power to secure his return. it must also be borne in mind that most of zubeir's chiefs were of his own tribe--the jaalin--and had formerly been slave-hunters. by a combination of bravery and good luck they had succeeded in taking possession of immense tracts of land in the bahr el ghazal province, and here they had exercised an almost independent and arbitrary authority; nor was this a matter of surprise when the uncivilised condition of both the country and its inhabitants is taken into consideration. they had acquired their position by plundering and violence, and their authority was maintained by the same methods. when, therefore, they learnt that gordon was coming, they discussed amongst themselves what line of action they should take. some of the more turbulent members were for at once attacking dara, which would have been a matter of no difficulty for them; others advised seizing gordon and his escort, and then exchanging him for zubeir: should he resist and be killed in consequence, then so much the better. a few, however, counselled submission and compliance with the orders of the government. in the midst of all this discussion and difference of opinion, gordon, travelling by keriut and shieria, had halted at a spot about four hours' march from dara, and, having instructed his escort to follow him as usual, he and his secretaries, tohami and busati bey, started in advance on camels. hearing of his approach, suleiman had given instructions to his troops to deploy in three lines between the camp and the fort; and while this operation was being carried out, gordon, coming from the rear of the troops, passed rapidly through the lines, riding at a smart trot, and, saluting the troops right and left, reached the fort. the suddenness of gordon's arrival left the leaders no time to make their plans. they therefore ordered the general salute; but even before the thunder of the guns was heard, gordon had already sent orders to suleiman and his chiefs to appear instantly before him. the first to comply with this peremptory summons was nur angara; he was quickly followed by said hussein and suleiman. the latter was not slow to perceive that the favourable moment had passed, and, therefore, at the head of a number of his leaders, presented himself before the ubiquitous governor-general. after the usual compliments, gordon ordered cigarettes and coffee to be handed round, and he then inquired after their affairs, and promised that he would do all in his power to satisfy every one; he then dismissed them, and told them to return to their men. but he motioned suleiman to remain; and when alone, told him that he had heard there was some idea amongst his men of opposing the government: he therefore urged him not to listen to evil counsellors. he gave him clearly to understand that it would be infinitely more to his advantage to comply with the orders of government than to attempt offensive measures, which must eventually end in his ruin; and after some further conversation, in which gordon to some extent excused the enormity of suleiman's offence on account of his extreme youth, he forgave him, and allowed him to return to his troops, with the injunction that he should strictly obey all orders in the future. meanwhile the escort which had been following behind from el fasher arrived at the fort, and gordon, after a short rest, sent for one of suleiman's leaders, said hussein, with whom he discussed the situation. the latter declared that his chief, in spite of pardon, was even then ready to fight in order to secure his father's return and to get back his own power and authority. gordon now appointed said hussein governor of shakka, and ordered him to start the following day with the troops he required; but he asked him to say nothing about his nomination for a few hours. no sooner had he left gordon than nur angara was summoned; and on being upbraided for the want of loyalty that evidently existed amongst the men, he replied that suleiman was surrounded by bad advisers, who were driving him to his ruin, and that whenever he ventured to express a contrary opinion, suleiman took not the smallest heed of what he might say. gordon, convinced of his loyalty, appointed him governor of sirga and arebu, in western darfur, and instructed him to start the following day with said hussein and to take any men he liked with him. when it came to suleiman's ears that his two chiefs had been made governors by gordon, he reproached them bitterly, and called to their minds how they owed all they possessed to his father's generosity; to this they replied that had it not been for their faithful services to his father, he would never have become so celebrated and successful. with these mutual recriminations the two new governors quitted suleiman, and started at daybreak the following morning for their destination. when they had gone, gordon again sent for suleiman and his chiefs. he at first refused to come; but on the earnest entreaties of the others, who urged that further resistance to gordon's orders was out of the question, he yielded with a bad grace, and once more found himself face to face with him. on this occasion gordon treated him with the greatest consideration, pointing out that he had come expressly to advise suleiman against the folly of thinking that he could attempt to thwart the government by trusting in the bravery and loyalty of his bazingers; he assured him that loyal service under government would bring him into a position which could not fail to satisfy his ambitions, and, that, further he had no reason to be concerned about his father's detention in cairo, that he was treated with the greatest respect and honour there, and that he had only to exercise a little patience. finally gordon instructed him to proceed to shakka with his men, and await his arrival there. the following morning suleiman received orders that on his arrival at shakka the new governor had been instructed to make all provision for the troops, and that therefore he should start without delay,--an order which he at once carried into effect. thus had gordon, by his amazing rapidity and quick grasp of the situation, arrived in two days at the settlement of a question which literally bristled with dangers and difficulties. had suleiman offered resistance at a time when darfur was in a disturbed state, gordon's position and the maintenance of egyptian authority in these districts would have been precarious in the extreme. gordon then returned to el fasher and kebkebia; already the disturbances which had been so rife in the country showed signs of abatement, and by his personal influence he succeeded in still further quieting the districts and establishing a settled form of government. leaving el fasher in september, , he again visited dara and shakka, where he found that suleiman had quite accepted the situation and was prepared to act loyally; he therefore appointed him governor of the bahr el ghazal province, which had been conquered by his father; he further gave him the rank of bey, with which suleiman appeared much gratified, and expressed great satisfaction at gordon's confidence in him. a number of slaves, with their masters, who, when suleiman was in disgrace at dara, had deserted him, and had gone over to said hussein, now returned to him; and thus, with a considerable acquisition to his strength, he left for dem zubeir, the chief town of his new province, which had been founded by his father. arrived here, he issued circulars to all parts of the country to the effect that he had been appointed governor; and at the same time he sent a summons to a certain idris bey ebtar to present himself forthwith before him. this idris bey ebtar had, on zubeir pasha's departure for cairo, been appointed by him as his agent in the bahr el ghazal. he was a native of dongola, and in this fact lies, i think, the secret of the subsequent deplorable events. the bahr el ghazal province is inhabited by an immense variety of negro tribes, who were more or less independent of each other until the danagla and jaalin arabs, advancing from the nile valley in their slave-hunting expeditions, gradually settled in the country and took possession of it. the jaalin trace their descent back to abbas, the uncle of the prophet. they are very proud of it, and look down with the greatest contempt and scorn on the danagla, whom they regard as descended from the slave dangal. according to tradition, this man, although a slave, rose to be the ruler of nubia, though he paid tribute to bahnesa, the coptic bishop of the entire district lying between the present sarras and debba. this dangal founded a town after his own name, dangala (dongola), and gradually the inhabitants of the district were known as danagla. they are, for the most part, of arab descent, but, having mixed freely with the natives of the country, have somewhat lost caste. of course they too insist on their arab descent, but the jaalin continually refer to their dangal origin, and treat them with contempt and derision. the relations between these two tribes must be fully recognised in order to understand what follows. the friends of idris ebtar, who were for the most part danagla, strongly urged him to disobey suleiman's summons; and, in consequence, a situation arose which was entirely after the slave-hunter's own heart. to play off one chief against another, and thereby serve his own interest and derive personal benefit, is the arab's delight; and in this instance it was not long before idris ebtar's defiance of suleiman's authority developed into terror of being taken prisoner, and he fled the country to khartum. arrived here, he reported that suleiman was now acting as if the country were entirely his own; that instead of performing his duties as a governor, he had usurped the position of his father, who was rather a king than a governor; that he had given the best positions to his own jaalin followers, to the exclusion of all the other tribes, more especially the danagla, who were being tyrannized over and oppressed in every possible way,--indeed, according to idris ebtar's story, suleiman was about to declare himself an independent ruler; and in support of his statement he produced quantities of petitions, purporting to have been received from merchants, slave-dealers, and others in the bahr el ghazal, all urging the government to dismiss suleiman at once, and replace him by another governor. assisted by his numerous relatives, idris ebtar made such a good case of it to the khartum authorities that they offered him the post of governor in succession to suleiman, on condition that he would supply a regular annual revenue of ivory and india-rubber, and that he would also provide annually a contingent of bazinger recruits, trained to the use of fire-arms, for incorporation in the egyptian army. in order to give full effect to his new appointment, he was given an escort of two hundred regular troops under a certain awad es sid effendi, to whom instructions were given to comply absolutely with his orders. idris, leaving khartum, proceeded by steamer up the white nile, and thence by the bahr el ghazal to meshra er rek, eventually reaching ganda, whence he wrote to suleiman informing him that he had been dismissed. the receipt of this document was naturally the signal for a general commotion. suleiman instantly summoned his relatives and friends to his side, and informed them in the most resolute manner that he would utterly refuse to comply with such an unfair order, pointing out with a certain amount of justice that since his arrival in bahr el ghazal he had had practically no dealings with the government, and that it was very unjust of them to act on mere suspicion, without giving him a chance of defending himself. he urged, moreover, that government was not dealing fairly in discharging him from a position which was his by right. but here suleiman was to a certain extent incorrect in claiming territory which, though conquered by his father, was now the actual property of the government. the meeting over, he wrote a letter in the above sense to idris ebtar, protesting in the strongest terms against his interference, accusing him of base ingratitude, and of acting in defiance of every law of honour and justice in having recourse to such means to gratify his personal ambitions. he further reminded him of the assistance and support ever accorded to him by his absent father, zubeir, who, on being obliged to leave darfur, had appointed him his agent; and he finally upbraided him for having gone to khartum as he did and intrigued to be made governor, instead of coming and seeing him as he had ordered, after gordon had appointed him (suleiman) governor; and he wound up his letter by an emphatic refusal to pay the smallest attention to idris bey's summons. in answer to this letter, idris sent suleiman an ultimatum, calling on him to either submit instantly, or take the consequences of being proceeded against as a rebel; to which suleiman replied that he was quite prepared to let the sword decide between them. it was now clear that war must inevitably result, and the merchants began to be alarmed for their lives and property. the jaalin, of course, wished suleiman to remain their chief, whilst the other tribes, considerably in the minority, sided with idris, who, on assuring himself that a resort to arms was inevitable, despatched his brother, osman ebtar, with two hundred regulars and a number of bazingers under awad es sid effendi, to garrison ganda, whilst he himself, with a small party of bazingers, proceeded to collect some followers, with a view to making a sudden onslaught on suleiman. the latter, however, incited by the intense hatred of his tribe for their danagla enemies, did not hesitate to risk arbitration by the sword. secretly collecting a number of his followers at dem zubeir, he made a sudden attack on the zariba at ganda; and although osman ebtar and his men made a gallant stand, the zariba was soon reduced to ashes, the houses and huts, in accordance with suleiman's orders, being completely destroyed, and the dead and wounded thrown into the flames. after this bloody encounter, all attempts at arriving at a peaceful settlement were out of the question; it was now war to the knife between suleiman and idris, and the latter, learning of the disaster at ganda, lost no time in returning to khartum and reporting that suleiman had revolted in the bahr el ghazal, and had declared his independence, which was, in fact, the case. indeed, no time was lost by suleiman in informing the principal bahr el ghazal merchants, such as genawi abu amuri, zubeir wad el fahl, and others, that he had resolved to take up arms against the government, and he begged them to co-operate with him. it was thus quite clear that suleiman did not doubt the government would not give up a province like bahr el ghazal without making a final effort to hold it. the danagla also, knowing that they had no mercy to expect from the jaalin, set to work to strengthen their own positions; but the principal merchants, such as ali amuri and zubeir wad el fahl, who were very anxious to do nothing which would jeopardise their relations with the government, stood aloof. meanwhile the news came that romolo gessi had reached khartum, and had been appointed commander of the expedition against suleiman and the slave-hunters. accompanied by yusef pasha esh shellali and forty officers and men, he proceeded in the first instance to fashoda, where he secured the services of two companies of troops and further reinforcements of regulars and irregulars from lado and makaraka. at gaba shamba he found a considerable store of remington rifles and ammunition and a number of bazingers, which raised his force to upwards of two thousand five hundred rifles. it was now (july, ) the rainy season, and operations against suleiman were for the moment impossible. gessi, therefore, proceeded to rumbek, and from thence sent a summons to genawi and wad el fahl to join him. with this order they at once complied, bringing with them a further reinforcement of some two thousand five hundred men, while gessi received continual additions to his strength from the smaller merchants and others, so that when the wet season was over he found himself at the head of upwards of seven thousand men, besides two guns and a number of rockets, with which he prepared to march to ganda. meanwhile, doubts being entertained of said hussein's loyalty, gordon despatched mustafa bey abu kheiran to replace him; and on the arrival of the latter at shakka, said hussein was sent to khartum under escort. his arrest was the signal for all zubeir pasha's old chiefs, such as osman wad tayalla, musa wad el haj, and others, to join suleiman, who had in the meantime been concentrating his troops, and had been joined by thousands of minor slave-hunters, mostly rizighat and habbania arabs, who were ever ready to side with the winners, in the hope of plunder. thus suleiman's force was numerically far superior to that of gessi pasha, who by this time had reached ganda. arrived here, he at once proceeded to construct a zariba and entrench himself. yusef pasha and the others who had no knowledge of fortification, laughed at gessi's precautions; but it was not long before they were fully convinced of their efficacy. suleiman advanced to attack ganda, on th december, ; and after a terrific onslaught, in which both sides lost heavily, he was forced to retire. in spite of this heavy defeat, suleiman, in the course of the next three months, made four other unsuccessful attacks on ganda; and at length, in march, , gessi, having procured ammunition and reinforcements, prepared to take the offensive against suleiman, who had by this time suffered heavily, and had lost many of his best leaders. on st may an action was fought, which was, comparatively speaking, insignificant in regard to losses, but resulted in suleiman being forced to beat a precipitate retreat from dem zubeir; the large stock of slaves and booty falling into the hands of gessi's danagla followers, who, apparently without his knowledge, shared the plunder amongst themselves. suleiman's power was thoroughly broken, and he had now to decide between unconditional surrender to government, or flight into the interior of africa. the danagla had become possessors of all his property, including his enormous harem of some eight hundred women, besides those of his various chiefs, whose respective households could not have numbered less than one hundred women each,--indeed, every bazinger, who was practically a slave, was also the possessor of one or two wives; and now all this immense amount of human loot had fallen into the hands of his enemies. moreover, his scattered forces, which were now roaming about the country in search of work, made no secret of the quantities of gold and silver treasure which suleiman had amassed, and which were now, no doubt, in the hands of gessi's men. when it is remembered that suleiman's treasury included the masses of gold and silver jewellery captured by his father at dara, at manawashi,--where sultan ibrahim had ruled, and had fallen on the capture of darfur,--at el fasher, at kebkebia, etc., it can be readily understood what riches must have fallen into the hands of the government levies, and--perhaps unknown to their commander, who was ignorant of the language--had been divided up amongst them. gessi now quartered the bulk of his troops in the entrenched camp vacated by suleiman, and with a comparatively small force proceeded to follow him up in pursuit. in order to conceal his whereabouts, suleiman had scattered his men throughout the western districts; but gessi came across one of his armed bands, under rabeh, and dispersed it without much difficulty. rabeh, however, escaped, and just at this period gessi received orders from gordon to meet him in darfur; he therefore collected all his troops in dem suleiman, where they rested after their fatiguing campaign, whilst he himself, accompanied by some of his officers, amongst whom was yusef pasha esh shellali, proceeded to et toweisha, where the caravan routes from om shanga, el obeid, and dara join, and here he met gordon. [illustration: gessi pasha's troops advancing to the attack on "dem suleiman."] in this his second visit to darfur, gordon had ascertained that the sudanese merchants of el obeid had been selling arms and powder to the rebel suleiman, with whom they naturally sympathised for their own selfish purposes; this contraband of war had been secretly despatched to bahr el ghazal through the intermediary of the gellabas (petty traders), who obtained enormous prices from suleiman: for instance, six to eight slaves would be exchanged for a double-barrelled gun, and one or two slaves was the price of a box of caps. the officials at el obeid made some attempt to check this trade, but the difficulties were great. the districts between kordofan and bahr el ghazal were inhabited principally by nomad arab tribes such as the rizighat, hawazma, homr, and messeiria; it was, moreover, an easy matter for small parties of gellabas to traverse, without fear of detection, the almost uninhabited forests, with which the country abounds; and even if an egyptian official came across them, he was, as a rule, quite amenable to a small bribe. gordon was fully cognisant of all this, and therefore gave the order that trade of every description was to be stopped between el obeid and bahr el ghazal. the merchants were, in consequence, ordered to quit all districts lying to the south of the el obeid, et toweisha, and dara caravan road, and to confine their trade entirely to the northern and western countries, whilst active operations were going on in bahr el ghazal. but, in spite of the strictness with which these orders were enforced, the chances of gain were so enormous and so enticing that the merchants grew almost insensible to the risk of discovery; and, in fact, the government had not at hand the means of checking the trade in an adequate manner,--indeed, in spite of the government restrictions, the trade rather increased than decreased. gordon, therefore, had to resort to very drastic measures. he ordered the sheikhs of the arab tribes to seize all gellabas in their districts, and forcibly drive them to dara, toweisha, om shanga, and el obeid, and at the same time held them responsible for any gellabas found in their countries, after a certain date. this order was welcomed by the greedy arabs, who seized the occasion to pillage, not only the wandering traders, but even those who had been settled amongst them for years, and who had nothing to do with this illicit commerce; they gathered the wheat and the tares together, and cast out both indiscriminately, making considerable profit over the transaction. gordon's order was now the signal for a wholesale campaign against the traders, who not only lost their goods, but almost every stitch of clothing they possessed, and were driven like wild animals in hundreds, almost naked, towards dara, toweisha, and om shanga. it was a terrible punishment for their unlawful communication with the enemies of the government. many of these traders had been residing amongst the arabs for years. they had got wives, children, concubines, and considerable quantities of property, which in turn fell into the hands of the arabs. the fates, indeed, wreaked all their fury on these wretched slave-hunters, and the retribution--merited as it undoubtedly was, on the principle of an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth--was painful enough to witness, and had consequences which were more far-reaching; for it must be remembered that the majority of these petty traders were jaalin from the nile valley, and between them and their arab oppressors there now arose the most implacable hatred, which has continued up to the present time, and which shows signs of increase rather than of diminution. in point of humanity, this attack on the gellabas may be open to question; but on closer investigation it will be apparent to all that it was not possible to deal with an anomalous situation, such as then existed, by political or philanthropic methods,--drastic and violent measures could alone be effective. the arab himself says, "nar el ghaba yelzamha el harika" (against a prairie-fire, fire must be used); and the proverb was peculiarly applicable in this case. now, these traders being for the most part jaalin, shaigias and danagla had, of course, relations and friends in the nile valley; and, indeed, many of the latter were their intermediaries in the commercial and slave transactions which took place. gordon's orders, therefore, were scarcely less unpopular amongst these nile-dwellers, who could not understand why such severe measures were necessary, merely to prevent gessi from being defeated in bahr el ghazal. but to return to gessi's movements. having met gordon at toweisha, and explained the situation to him, he was instructed to proceed to dara, while gordon returned to khartum, and with him yusef pasha shellali, who during the entire campaign had served gessi most loyally, but who had been told, by some of the numerous intriguers, that his chief was against him; he therefore begged gordon to allow him to return with him to khartum,--a request which was at once granted, while his services were further recognised by his promotion to the rank of pasha. on his arrival at dara, gessi received information that suleiman had quitted bahr el ghazal, and, having collected his forces, was somewhere in the southwest of darfur. it was thought that he intended to unite with sultan ben seif ed din, a direct descendant of the old darfur kings, who was said to have collected a force with the object of opposing the government and driving out the foreigners. it is impossible to say whether this was really suleiman's intention; but there is no doubt that sultan harun had never concluded an alliance with suleiman, who, being the son of the conqueror of darfur, by whom the dynasty had been destroyed, was hated by the darfur people even more than were the egyptians; the latter, in comparison with zubeir's lawless gangs of bazingers, had a slightly higher reputation, but both seemed to consider the darfurians their legitimate prey, and both were guilty of acts of cruelty and oppression. at this time the principal government official at dara was zogal bey (mohammed bey khaled); and gessi, having left almost all his troops in bahr el ghazal, now begged him to place at his disposal two companies of regular troops, under the command of saghkolaghasi mansur effendi helmi; with these, and a certain ismail wad el barnu,--an egyptian born in darfur, and well known for his bravery, and knowledge of the country,--gessi set off for kalaka, the headquarters of the habbania arabs. here he was joined by arifi wad ahmed, head sheikh of the habbania, and by madibbo bey, chief of the rizighat, who was loyal to government, and could place several hundred horsemen in the field. suleiman's star was now declining. abandoned by most of his own tribesmen, who had secretly made off through the forests to the nile valley; deserted by the greater part of his trusted bazingers, whom hunger, fatigue, and aimless wandering in pathless regions had hopelessly scattered; his footsteps dogged by gessi, who was kept informed of his every movement,--he was, indeed, in sorry plight when ismail wad barnu, despatched by gessi with a summons to surrender, appeared before him at gharra. ismail was well known to suleiman, and had been instructed by gessi to inform him that, should he submit, his life and the lives of his chiefs would be spared, and his women and children should not be touched, on condition that he handed over to him his bazingers, with their arms, and made a solemn vow of loyalty to the egyptian government. ismail pointed out to suleiman that all hope of successful resistance was now at an end, and, as a native of the country, he gave it as his private opinion that sultan harun would never be induced to enter into alliance with him. suleiman now convened a meeting of his principal men to discuss the terms of peace offered by gessi. most of them were heartily tired of this constant fighting, in which they had been almost invariably defeated, but there were some who doubted the sincerity of the conditions proposed; ismail, however, asserted in the strongest terms that he would guarantee the sincerity of gessi, who himself longed to put an end to this useless bloodshed, and further stated that he had been authorised by him to take a solemn oath in his name that the conditions of surrender would be faithfully observed. suleiman and all his chiefs, with the exception of rabeh, agreed to accept; but the latter pointed out, with a prescience, which subsequent events justified, that suleiman had been warned, before he took up arms, of the danger he was incurring, and that once in the hands of his captors he could not hope for mercy. as regards himself, rabeh declared that it would be pain and grief to him to separate from men who had been his companions in joy and sorrow all these years, but he gave them distinctly to understand that he would never place himself in the power of gessi, whose success had been due to the danagla, and who, though an european, was really in their hands. he begged his companions to remember the bitter animosity which existed between the jaalin and danagla, and recalled the merciless manner in which the former had treated the latter when osman ebtar had been defeated at ganda. he therefore had two proposals to make, viz., to collect their entire force and march west into the banda countries, which had hitherto been untouched by foreign intruders, and which could offer no resistance to the thousands of well-armed bazingers they still had at their command. he then went on to say, that once the black tribes had been subjugated, they could enter into relations with the kingdoms of wadai, baghirmi, and bornu, and that it was most unlikely that gessi and his men, who were tired of fighting, would follow them into distant and unknown regions, over which the government had no control, and from which it was not likely they could reap any benefit. should this proposal not meet with their approbation, then he would suggest that as they wished now to lead quiet lives with their fellow-tribesmen in the nile valley, they should send a special deputation either to his highness the khedive or to gordon pasha, begging for pardon and peace; but that they should never do so through gessi, whose only object was to secure their arms and bazingers, and who, at the capture of dem suleiman, had unhesitatingly taken everything they possessed. if, therefore, they wished to save their lives and avoid the intrigues of the danagla, all they had to do was to leave the bazingers with their arms behind, and themselves proceed by kalaka and shakka and through the uninhabited forests of dar hamar to foga, the western telegraph station on the darfur frontier, whence they could wire their submission and ask for pardon, which would undoubtedly be granted. or they might, added rabeh, proceed from shakka through dar homr, and, skirting the northern janghé country, reach el obeid, where they could make their submission through the intermediary of the governor and their relative, elias pasha wad um bereir. he concluded his speech by saying that should none of these proposals meet with approval, then he was prepared, with the greatest reluctance, to quit his lifelong friends, and, taking those who wished to join him, he would march west and take his chance; but, he added most emphatically, he would never place himself in the hands of gessi and his danagla. these proposals were made by rabeh to suleiman and the others in the presence of ismail wad barnu, who again urged that they should submit to gessi, arguing that as the latter had been originally entrusted with the campaign, it would naturally be a point of honour with him to see to suleiman's safety and to write favourably to government in regard to him; but, on the other hand, added ismail, should suleiman attempt to obtain pardon without gessi's intermediary, then the latter would naturally be very angry, and would probably be the means of injuring him in the eyes of the government. musa wad el haj, one of suleiman's best leaders, and who also had some influence with gessi, now addressed rabeh as follows: "you have made certain proposals in the hearing of ismail wad barnu, who is gessi's messenger. should we concur with your proposals, what do you consider we should do with him?" to this question rabeh answered, "ismail is our friend, and was trusted by zubeir; far be it from me to wish him any harm. should we decide on flight, then, in self-preservation, we must take him with us a certain distance and when we are out of reach of pursuit, let him go." a long discussion now ensued, which resulted in a division of opinions: suleiman, hassan wad degeil (zubeir's uncle), musa wad el haj, ibrahim wad hussein (the brother of saleh wad hussein, the former governor of shakka, who had been arrested and sent to khartum), suleiman wad mohammed, ahmed wad idris, abdel kader wad el imam, and babakr wad mansur, all of the gemiab section of the jaalin tribe; also arbab mohammed wad diab of the saadab section, agreed to accept gessi's conditions and submit. but rabeh, abu el kasim (of the magazib section), musa wad el jaali, idris wad es sultan, and mohammed wad fadlalla, of the gemiab section, and abdel bayin, a former slave of zubeir pasha, decided not to submit under any circumstances, but to march west. ismail, being of course most anxious to inform gessi of suleiman's submission, urged him to break up the meeting and to give him a written document that the conditions were acceptable. suleiman complied, and with eight of his chiefs signed the compact and handed it to ismail, who at once returned to gessi at kalaka with presents of several male and female slaves. no sooner had he gone than rabeh again came to suleiman, and in the most earnest terms begged him to reconsider the matter; but suleiman was obdurate, and rabeh, therefore, retired heart-broken, beat his war-drums to collect his bazingers and followers, sorrowfully bade his old companions farewell, and marched off in a southwesterly direction, to the sound of the ombeÿa, or elephant's tusk (the sudan war-horn, which can be heard at an immense distance). several of suleiman's men, seeing that rabeh was determined not to submit, joined him, preferring the uncertainty of a life of adventure in the pathless forests to the risk of giving themselves up to the hated danagla. but the five chiefs who had been his main supporters took the occasion to desert him at his first camping-station, intending to conceal themselves by the help of the arab chiefs whom they knew, and eventually to make their way back to the nile when all danger was over. on receipt of suleiman's letter of submission, gessi set out with all speed for gharra, accompanied by ismail, who feared that rabeh's counsels might after all prevail and that they had no time to lose; they took with them a considerable number of men, and were reinforced by contingents supplied by the rizighat and habbania chiefs. arrived near gharra, gessi sent on ismail to tell suleiman that he had received the signed conditions, with which he was satisfied, and that he had come to personally accept his submission. in a short time ismail returned, reporting rabeh's flight with a considerable number of bazingers and arms, and that suleiman was quite prepared to surrender. gessi therefore advanced to gharra with his troops and met suleiman, whose men had piled their arms. he verbally gave them the pardon for which they asked, and then ordered the bazingers to be distributed between sheikh arifi and madibbo bey, while instructions were given to put the chiefs under a guard until the government officials appointed to take charge of them should have been selected. these orders were executed with great promptitude, and in two hours, out of the entire camp, only suleiman and the chiefs, with their wives and families, remained, and over these a small guard was placed. now, as rabeh had truly foretold, the intrigues of the danagla against suleiman began. they told gessi that suleiman's servants had reported that he already regretted having submitted, and that had he known that he was to be received in such a way, he would rather have died fighting. gessi, although a man of an open and honourable disposition, was somewhat susceptible to such insinuations; he trusted his own men, and as they had risked their lives for him, he did not doubt their words. but he neither knew nor realised that his men were bent on suleiman's destruction. the loot which they had taken in dem suleiman and in many other engagements was enormous, besides male and female slaves, gold and silver jewellery, and an immense amount of cash, all of which they had distributed amongst themselves, unknown to gessi. what they now feared was that suleiman, being admitted to gessi's favour, would inform him of what had occurred, and that he would enter a claim against the government. moreover, it will be remembered how idris ebtar had by his intrigues given the authorities the impression that the bahr el ghazal revolt was entirely due to the zubeir faction, while they showed themselves in the light of faithful adherents and martyrs to the government cause. they dreaded lest suleiman might be sent to khartum, whence he would probably obtain permission to visit his father in cairo, and they knew that zubeir possessed sufficient influence to institute claims against them for the seizure of his property, and would moreover do his utmost to show that suleiman was not responsible for the revolt. the danagla, therefore, now resorted to the following base expedient: they informed gessi that suleiman had sent messengers to recall rabeh, that he had given him instructions to make an attack on gessi, who had only an insignificant force, and to whom they had surrendered under the impression that his force was much larger, but that rabeh was sufficiently strong to easily overcome him, and thus completely turn the tables. mansur effendi helmi also came forward and corroborated these tales, adding that he was convinced suleiman was just as hostile as before, and that on the smallest chance being given him he would not hesitate to revolt once more against the government. gessi was now fully convinced that their statements were true, and in consequence of their urgent declamations against suleiman he went back on the promise he had made that their lives should be safe. in the course of the day he had suleiman and the nine chiefs brought into his tent, and reproached them very severely for their traitorous conduct. to proud and uncivilised men these reproaches were unbearable, and they replied in an equally abrupt tone. gessi, stung to anger, quitted the tent and ordered the danagla, who were lurking about, to shoot them. in a moment the tent was pulled down over their heads, they were secured, their hands were tied behind their backs, and they were driven to the place of execution. with the most bitter imprecations on their lips against the treacherous danagla, they fell, shot through the back by the rifles of a firing party of mansur helmi's regulars, on the th july, . thus did fate overtake suleiman and his friends. death had come upon them treacherously, it is true; but they had abused the authority with which they had been vested, by their cruelty and ambition they had wrecked the provinces of bahr el ghazal and darfur, and had reduced the inhabitants to an unparalleled state of misery and wretchedness. gessi lost no time in sending a telegram to the station at foga reporting suleiman's death and the conclusion of the campaign to gordon. this news, as already related, reached me through ali bey sherif the day i left el obeid for darfur. gessi now called on the shaigias to hand over the bazingers in their charge; but they reported that owing to an insufficient guard they had escaped; and as the story seemed credible, gessi collected the remainder of his men, with the intention of proceeding to bahr el ghazal, where he wished to establish a settled form of government, in place of the constant warfare which had decimated this fertile province. just before leaving, he received information that the five chiefs who had left rabeh, viz., abdel kasim, musa jaali, idris wad es sultan, mohammed fadlalla, and abdel bayin; were in hiding amongst the arabs; he therefore left orders for the shaigia to search for them, and when found, to bring them for punishment before the governor of el fasher. zogal bey, the governor of shakka, was also ordered to do his utmost to catch these men, with the result that they were discovered without much difficulty, and brought, with shebas round their necks, to el fasher, where messedaglia bey, without further ado, had them instantly shot. thus, with the exception of rabeh, the entire zubeir gang was destroyed, and the power of the slave-hunters crippled. the campaign had resulted in a considerable loss to government of arms and ammunition, and in a corresponding acquisition of strength to the great southern arab tribes, such as the baggara, taisha, habbania, and rizighat, who both before and after the fall of suleiman had captured numbers of bazingers and immense quantities of loot; the subsequent effects of which were not long in showing themselves. chapter ii. residence in darfur, and early history of the province. arrival at om shanga--matrimonial difficulties--a sudanese falstaff--description of el fasher--the furs and the tago--a tale of love and perfidy--founding of the tungur dynasty--conquest of darfur by zubeir pasha--the rizighat tribe--quarrel between zubeir pasha and the governor-general--both recalled to cairo--gordon governor-general of the sudan--i take up my duties at dara--zogal bey the sub-governor--i undertake a campaign against sultan harun--niurnia, harun's stronghold in jebel mara--i defeat the sultan at rahad en nabak--death of harun--my meeting with dr. felkin and the rev. wilson--my boy kapsun--gordon's letter from abyssinia. i left el obeid early in july, , in company with dr. zurbuchen, the sanitary inspector-general, whom i had met in cairo; our route took us through foga, the telegraph terminus, and here i found a telegram from gordon, telling me that he was proceeding on a mission to king john of abyssinia. we reached om shanga to find it crowded with gellabas who had been turned out of the southern districts, and were really in a pitiable condition. curiously enough, the news had spread far and wide that i was gordon's nephew (i suppose on account of my blue eyes and shaven chin), and in consequence i was looked upon with some apprehension by these people, who considered him as the cause of all the troubles which they were now justly suffering. i was overwhelmed with petitions for support; but i told them that as om shanga was not in my district, i could do nothing for them,--and even if i could have spared them something from my private purse, i had neither the desire nor inclination to do so. in one case, however, i confess to having broken the rule; but before relating this little episode, i should explain that my action must not be judged from the standpoint of purely christian morality. in this case i admit to being guilty of even greater moral laxity in regard to the moslem marriage law, than is enjoined in the sharia, or religious law; but when my readers have finished the story, i think they will perhaps share the feelings which prompted me to act as i did. several of the merchants who had travelled from the nile called upon me and begged me to interest myself in the case of an unfortunate youth, a native of khartum and only nineteen years of age. they related that before quitting khartum he had been betrothed to his beautiful but very poor young cousin; the parents had consented to the marriage, but he was to first take a journey and try to make some money. on his arrival at om shanga a very rich old woman took a violent fancy to him. whether the youth had been overcome by her riches, my informants did not say, but the old woman would have her way and had married him; and now, finding himself comparatively wealthy, he had no particular desire to give her up. the sad news had reached khartum, the poor girl was distracted, and now i was asked to solve the difficulty. what was i to do? i called up the youth, who was unusually good-looking, and, taking him aside, i spoke to him with as serious a countenance as i could preserve; i pointed out how very wrong it was of him, a foreigner, to have married a strange old woman while his poor _fiancée_ was crying her eyes out at home, and that even if his cousin's dowry was small, still, in honour bound, he should keep his promise. he hesitated for a long time, but at length decided to go before the kadi (judge of the religious law) and get a divorce. i had previously seen the kadi, and had instructed him that should the youth seek a divorce, it was his duty to break the news as gently as he could to the old wife, as i was most anxious the separation should be carried out with as little commotion as possible; and, taking a guarantee from the young man's relatives that they would be responsible that he should go direct to khartum, i warned the government official of om shanga that the youth was to be banished at two days' notice! i also told him that he might say what he liked about me to the old woman, and that i was quite ready to bear the blame, provided he could get her to give him some money for the journey. little did i imagine what a storm i had brought on my devoted head! it was about four o'clock in the afternoon, and i was lying on my angareb (native couch) in the little brick hut, when i heard the voice of an angry woman demanding to see me instantly. i guessed at once who it was, and, bracing my nerves for the fray, told the orderly to let her in. dr. zurbuchen, who was in the room with me, and whose knowledge of arabic was very limited, was most desirous to leave me; but i was by no means anxious to be left alone with an angry woman, and at length persuaded him to stay. no sooner was the divorced wife admitted than she rushed up angrily to dr. zurbuchen, whom she mistook for me, and shrieked in a tone of frantic excitement, "i shall never agree to a divorce. he is my husband, and i am his wife; he married me in accordance with the religious law, and i refuse to let him divorce me." dr. zurbuchen, thoroughly startled, muttered in broken arabic that he had nothing to do with the case, and meekly pointed to me as the hard-hearted governor. i could not help being amused at the extraordinary figure before me. she was a great strong woman, with evidently a will of her own; and so furious was she that she had quite disregarded all the rules which usually apply when eastern ladies address the opposite sex. her long white muslin veil had got twisted round and round her dress, exposing her particoloured silk headdress, which had fallen on her shoulders; she had a yellowish complexion, and her face was covered with wrinkles, while her cheeks were marked by the three tribal slits, about half an inch apart; in her nose she wore a piece of red coral, massive gold earrings in her ears, and her greasy hair was twisted into innumerable little ringlets, which were growing gray with advancing age. i thought i had never seen a more appalling looking old creature; but my contemplations were cut short by her screeching voice, which was now directed on me with renewed fury, and i was confronted with the same question she had addressed to the terrified doctor. giving her time to recover her breath, i replied, "i quite understand what you say, but you must submit to the inevitable: your husband must leave; and as you are a native, i cannot permit you to go with him. you appear undesirous of having a divorce; but you must remember that, in accordance with the moslem law, it is for the man to give the woman her divorce papers, and not the woman the man." "had you not interfered," she shrieked, "he would never have left me. cursed be the day you came here!" "i beg of you, do not say that," i answered; "you are a woman of means, and i should not think you would have any difficulty in securing another and perhaps older husband." "i want no other," she literally screamed. "silence!" i said somewhat sharply. "the relatives of your former husband wish him to leave you; they complained that it was only your money which bound him to you; and now, whatever you may say, he is to leave to-morrow. besides, do you not think it is outrageous that an old woman like you should have married a young lad who might have been your grandson?" these last words drove her into a state of perfect frenzy; and, losing all control over herself, she threw up her hands, tore off her veil, and what else might have happened i know not, but my kavass (orderly), hearing the noise, rushed in and quietly but forcibly removed her from the room, cautioning her that her conduct was disgraceful, and that she had made a laughing-stock of herself. the following day her husband left, and i do not doubt her grief was considerable; but some years later i had the satisfaction of meeting the youth, married to his early _fiancée_, and already the father of a family; he thanked me profusely for having got him out of the clutches of the old woman and brought him to his present happy state. it is needless to relate that i slept soundly that night, convinced that i had done a good piece of work, and that it had cost me nothing. two days later we left om shanga, and halted for the night at jebel el hella, where we were met by hassan bey om kadok, the sheikh of the northern berti tribes, who had shown great loyalty and had been granted by gordon the rank of bey. he was a middle-aged man, very stout, with great broad shoulders and a round, smiling face; he might well have been called the sudan "falstaff." some years later, when the tables were turned, and masters became servants, he and i found ourselves together as orderlies in the khalifa's body-guard, where his cheerful disposition and genial nature brightened an existence which at times was almost unbearable. his brother ismail was exactly the opposite,--tall, thin, and serious; and the two brothers never by any chance agreed, except on one point, and that was their inveterate love of marissa (sudan beer): to have each a large jar (made of pottery, and known in darfur as the _dulang asslia_ or _um bilbil_) of this marissa, and to vie with one another in emptying it first, was to them the greatest pleasure in life. they invited us to sup with them, and for our evening meal an entire sheep, baked on charcoal, was served up, besides a quantity of roast fowls and a dish of asida (the latter is somewhat like the italian polenta, and is eaten with all the courses); there were also several jars of marissa. we thoroughly enjoyed the food, leaving the marissa to our hosts, and substituting for it some of our own red wine. hassan and ismail, however, freely regaled themselves with wine as well as marissa; the effect on the former being to make him extremely talkative, while the latter became more and more silent. hassan related many little incidents about gordon, for whom he had the greatest admiration and regard. he was much grieved to hear he was going to abyssinia. "perhaps," said he, sadly, "he will go back to his own country, and never return to the sudan again." curiously enough, he was partially correct. he then left the room and returned almost at once, carrying a magnificent saddle and sword. "look," said he, "these are the last presents general gordon gave me when i accompanied him to el fasher; he was most kind and generous." then ismail showed us a rich gold embroidered robe which gordon had presented to him. "pride," said hassan, "was unknown to gordon. one day, on our way to el fasher, one of the attendants shot a bustard; and when we halted at noon, the cook at once boiled some water and threw the bird into the pot, so as to take off its feathers. gordon, seeing this, went and sat himself down by the cook and began helping him to pull out the feathers. i at once rushed up and begged him to allow me to do this for him, but he answered, 'why should i be ashamed of doing work? i am quite able to wait on myself, and certainly do not require a bey to do my kitchen work for me.'" hassan continued chatting till a late hour. he related his experiences during zubeir's conquest of darfur, then of the subsequent revolts and the present situation, frequently reverting to gordon, whom he held in great honour. "once, travelling with gordon," he remarked, "i fell ill, and gordon came to see me in my tent. in the course of our conversation i told him that i was addicted to alcoholic drinks, and that i put down my present indisposition to being obliged to do without them for the last few days. this was really my indirect way of asking gordon to give me something; but i was mightily disappointed, and, instead, received a very severe rebuke. 'you a moslem,' said he, 'and forbidden by your religion to drink wines and spirits! i am indeed surprised. you should give up this habit altogether; every one should follow the precepts of his religion.' i replied, 'having been accustomed to them all my life, if i now gave them up my health must suffer; but i will try and be more moderate in future.' gordon seemed satisfied, got up, shook hands with me, and bade me good-bye. the following morning, before leaving, he sent me three bottles of brandy, with injunctions that i should use them in moderation." meanwhile hassan's lanky brother sat in complete silence, leaning on his elbows and solemnly filling up and swallowing glass after glass of marissa, with an almost clockwork regularity. when we had stopped talking, he got up in a very deliberate manner, solemnly wiped his mouth with his hand, and said in a melancholy tone, "yes, brandy is very good; it is not an alcoholic drink, it is medicine. gordon is a great and benevolent man; we shall never see him again." it was very late before our hosts left us, and, having ordered our baggage camels to start before daybreak, we had a few hours' sleep. the next morning at sunrise our riding camels were ready, and dr. zurbuchen and i looked about for our hosts to wish them good-bye. at length we saw ismail hurrying towards us; his head was evidently suffering from the effects of the previous night. "masters," he shouted, "we have always been told that in your country justice exists; i am sure that there guests never wrong their hosts. last night, when your baggage camels started, your people carried off my best rug, which i had laid out for you to lie down on yesterday." i made inquiries, and had no doubt that one of my men must have made off with the precious rug; so, ordering one of my kavasses to mount his camel and overtake the caravan, i patiently awaited his return. in due time he came back with the stolen rug, and, tied on behind him, one of my eight black soldiers who belonged to our escort. on being interrogated, the man said he had taken it by mistake; but as i had no doubt of his guilt i had him flogged and sent back a prisoner to the nearest military post at om shanga. i was much upset by the occurrence, for i knew that these people were apt to conclude that as the master is, so is the servant; and had i not acted with severity on this occasion i should probably have had a frequent recurrence of such thefts. with profuse apologies to our hosts, we set off for el fasher, and, passing through brush, abiat, and ergud, reached there after five days' march. for the last century el fasher had been chosen as the capital of darfur. it is built on two sandy hills running north and south, and separated by a valley some four hundred yards across, known as the wadi tendelti. the fort is situated on the western hill, and consists of a square mud-brick enclosure about three feet thick built on the slope, and surrounded with a ditch fifteen feet deep; at the corners were four small towers, manned with guns which fired from embrasures. this enclosure embraces the government buildings, governor's house, officers' quarters, and men's barracks; but the quarters of the irregular cavalry are outside. the wells are down in the valley, about one hundred and fifty yards distant from the walls of the fort. at this time messedaglia bey, an italian, was governor of el fasher; he gave dr. zurbuchen and myself a cordial welcome, and allotted us quarters in the government buildings. we had both suffered somewhat from fever during our wet march, and therefore decided to rest here for a few days. darfur was formerly one of the line of ancient central african kingdoms, stretching across the continent from west to east. up to the early part of the seventeenth century the kings of darfur had dominion over the country as far east as the atbara; but the warlike fungs, who at that time were one of the most powerful tribes of the sudan, gradually drove the darfurians back, and established their own authority up to the banks of the white nile. in they wrested the province of kordofan from the darfur kings, but five years later it was retaken by the latter, and remained under their control until conquered in by mohammed bey dafterdar, the brother-in-law of ismail pasha, who, it will be remembered, was burnt alive at shendi. history has already described the heroic bravery of the darfur troops led by musallem, the viceroy of kordofan, who, with almost all his men, utterly ignorant of the effect of fire-arms, dashed up to the muzzles of the turks' guns, and were annihilated almost to a man. kordofan thus remained under egyptian rule until, in , it fell under the sway of the mahdi. meanwhile, after the loss of kordofan the darfurians retired further to the west, and the kings now governed only a circumscribed area, of which jebel marra was the centre. the roads through these almost inaccessible mountains are few and very difficult, and in consequence the place is one of great strength. many of the peaks are between six and seven thousand feet high, and separated from each other by deep and fertile valleys gradually descending to the plains below. during the rains the rivulets in these valleys become rushing torrents, and, flowing south into the main valleys of wadi asum and wadi ibra, convert them into two gigantic rivers, the latter emptying into the bahr el arab, which eventually joins the bahr el ghazal, and forms the main western tributary of the white nile. the streams flowing north from jebel marra have a less rapid descent, and are quickly absorbed in the sandy soil of the desert. in the valleys of jebel marra, barley, turkish wheat, and dukhn are planted; but in the plains of darfur only the latter can be grown, and it is therefore the ordinary food of the inhabitants. in the southern district it comes to maturity from ninety to a hundred days after being planted, but in some of the northern districts it ripens even twenty days earlier. the original tribes of the country were the furs and the tago, the latter ruling for centuries over the entire district from their inaccessible strongholds in jebel marra. tradition relates that about the fourteenth century, the tungur arabs, emigrating south from tunis, scattered throughout bornu and wadai, and eventually reached darfur, the first arrivals being two brothers, ali and ahmed, who, with their flocks, settled on the western slopes of jebel marra. ali, who was older and better off than his brother, had recently married a beautiful young girl of his own tribe, and she, in turn, being constantly thrown with her brother-in-law, who was celebrated for his bravery, conceived a great fancy for him. one day, when her husband was away, she confessed her feelings to ahmed, and implored him to help her out of her misery; but ahmed's sentiments of right and honour in regard to his brother's wife could not be overcome by this appeal, though he promised that her secret should never be divulged. the girl fell ill, and in her jealous love determined that her brother-in-law should never marry another; she therefore called her husband to her side and bade him swear, under a solemn oath, that he would never disclose what she was about to tell him, and then she whispered that his brother never ceased making love to her. ali, horror-stricken at the thought of the deception of ahmed, whom he dearly loved, and to whom he confided everything, was beside himself with grief; but he could not bring himself to believe entirely in his brother's perfidy, though the seeds of mistrust were sown. meanwhile ahmed, knowing that his sister-in-law's jealousy was aroused, did all he could by kindness and sympathy to pacify her and to treat her as if nothing had happened; the result, of course, being that ali's suspicion grew into certainty, and he determined on revenge. he could not bear the thought of killing him, but wanted to inflict on him some lasting injury. two days later, he determined to move camp, and, sending on all his people with their flocks and herds, he remained behind with his brother, and began talking to him about ordinary matters. from this they got into a discussion on arms, and ali, playfully drawing out his sword, in an unguarded moment struck ahmed a blow on his right leg, severing the tendon achilles; and then, making off as quickly as he could, he left his unfortunate brother weltering in his blood, who, too proud to cry out, calmly awaited death. this ahmed el makur (signifies one who is wounded, applying more especially to the sort of wound he received) was destined to become the founder of a new dynasty in darfur, and this is how it came about. ali, whose love for his brother was not altogether extinguished, sent two of his slaves, zayed and birged (the forefathers of the great zayedia and birged tribes), with two camels, two she-camels, and a few necessaries, in search of ahmed, but at the same time he told them that on no account were they to bring him back. he himself returned to the west, and, as the story goes, separated soon afterwards from his wife, as he could not bear the thought of his brother's supposed perfidy. the slaves, finding ahmed unconscious from loss of blood, revived him, and at his request brought him to the nearest native settlement, where he was well received, and king kor (the last of the tago dynasty) was informed that a foreigner, who had been wounded in the leg by his brother, was in their village. the king ordered ahmed to be brought before him, in order to hear from his own lips the account of this strange event. ahmed, however, refused to explain, and the matter remained a mystery; but he was taken care of and permitted to stay in the king's household. king kor, like all his predecessors, was a heathen; he had become ruler by violence, was utterly ignorant of the outside world, and did not even know of the existence of any country outside his own immediate dominions; beyond making occasional raids from his mountain strongholds on the dwellers in the plains, he seldom left his hills. this savage old king took a fancy to the stranger, made him director of his household, and consulted him on all occasions. gradually ahmed rose to power. by judicious management he brought the unruly tago chiefs into subjection, and portioned out the land amongst the poorer inhabitants, thus putting a stop to the constant internal raiding, and introducing a feeling of security and contentment hitherto quite unknown. ahmed during his long journey from tunis had passed through many distant kingdoms, and, being a man of sense, he was able to apply his knowledge in introducing a number of reforms. one of those, still quoted, is the wonderful change he effected in the king's household. it had been the custom for centuries for any retainer to take his food at the time it pleased him, quite regardless of the wants of others. it therefore frequently happened that, "first come, first served," nothing remained for the later arrivals, who, in their anger, would fall on their comrades, and as often as not blood would be shed. ahmed reformed all this by establishing a fixed hour for meals, at which all must be present, with the happy result that peace and tranquillity prevailed. in this and a hundred other ways did ahmed show his capacity, and became much beloved by the king, who, having no successors, gave him his favourite daughter as a wife, and before his death nominated him as his successor to the throne. almost all the inhabitants had a great respect for ahmed, and on kor's death they made him their king. the news spread far and wide, and on it becoming known to the tungurs in bornu and wadai, they flocked into the country in such numbers as to partially displace the tago; and now the only small settlements left of the former rulers are near dara, where there is a tago sheikh, and also at dar sula, a long way to the west, where there is a semi-independent ruler called "sultan abu risha et tagawi," who is also known as "el jamus el asfar," or the yellow buffalo. ahmed el makur ruled happily for a long period, and a regular male succession was established. his great grandson was the celebrated sultan "dali," whose mother belonged to the kera-fur tribe, and thus consanguinity was established between the blacks and the tungur dynasty. dali was a very enlightened ruler; he travelled a great deal, and collected round him many men who could read and write; he divided the country into provinces and districts, and wrote the celebrated "kitab-dali," or penal code. the system of government inaugurated by dali was carefully followed by his successors, and continued in use up to the middle of the present century. one of the most noted of the darfur rulers was suleiman, who, being the son of an arab mother, and having himself married an arab woman, took the title of solong, which is generally applied to those who consider themselves of arab descent. it was through him that the country was definitely moslemised; and his descendants, up to , proudly boast of their arab descent, and entirely ignore the black element, which undoubtedly is there, and which may be said to show itself in the bitter hatred which has always existed between the ruling darfur family and the nomad arabs. in accordance with dali's code, the descent should devolve on the eldest son; but gradually the custom obtained of selecting one of the sons (provided he was in the direct line) who happened to be the most popular in the estimation of the court dignitaries, and especially in that of the "abu sheikh," the name given to the principal eunuch of the royal household. a rigorous exclusion was exercised over all sons who were addicted to alcohol or marissa. suleiman was succeeded by his son musa, and the latter by his son ahmed bakr, who did all in his power to introduce foreigners into the country, as he hoped thereby to benefit his people. he was succeeded by his son mohammed dura, who is said to have had over a hundred brothers, of whom he caused fifty to be killed on coming to the throne; he is also credited with having killed his eldest son, whom he suspected of having pretensions to make himself king. on his death his son omar leila succeeded, and he also was as unpopular as his father. he took command of the darfur army which invaded wadai, and was killed, being succeeded by his uncle, abu el kasem, who, with his brothers mohammed terab and abderrahman, was amongst those who had escaped the slaughter when mohammed dura came to the throne. abu el kasem showed a great inclination to the blacks, and incurred, in consequence, the hostility of his relations, who urged him to take the field against wadai, and, having advanced, suddenly deserted him with the army, leaving him the blacks only. it is said by some that he was at once killed in the battle which ensued, while others state that he remained for some time in wadai, and then returned to attack his brother, mohammed terab, by whom he had been succeeded. the latter proved himself a capable and energetic ruler, but towards the close of his reign he conceived the idea of enlarging his dominions and restoring the country to its early limits, which, it will be remembered, extended as far as the atbara. he therefore issued a decree declaring war against the fungs, and advanced with his brother abderrahman and a mass of warriors, both horsemen and spearmen, in an easterly direction. eventually they arrived at omdurman, the present dervish capital of the sudan, and, to their surprise, found their further progress stopped by the nile. the inhabitants had removed all the boats, so the construction of a bridge was attempted; but to cross a rapid river six hundred yards broad, was a task beyond the powers of the darfur king, who remained stationary for months at omdurman, vainly making attempt after attempt to overcome this impassable obstacle. at length the chiefs, despairing of success, approached the king, and urged that the army should return to kordofan and darfur; but the latter, furious at his failure, threatened any one with death who should show any inclination to retreat. the leaders, however, were not to be baffled; secretly arranging with the king's favourite wife, khadija, they convinced her that she would be performing a public service by poisoning her husband's food, which she did, nothing loath, and abderrahman succeeded to the throne. the stone walls erected by sultan mohammed terab are to be seen to this day at the south end of omdurman. his body was embalmed, taken to bara, and conveyed thence to tura, in jebel marra, some thirty-five miles west of el fasher, the burial-place of the old darfur sultans. abderrahman and the army returned to darfur to find that mohammed terab's son, ishaak, who had been appointed regent, refused to acknowledge his authority; with the result that a battle took place, in which ishaak was killed. abderrahman's favourite wife was a certain umbusa, of the begu tribe. this tribe had emigrated from bahr el ghazal many years before, had settled in darfur, and had been granted lands by the kings, on condition that they should annually supply a beautiful girl for the royal harem. the begus are a purely african race, descended from the monolké family, and umbusa, besides being a great beauty, was endowed with exceptionally high qualities, which induced abderrahman to raise her to the status of a legal wife; and in his advanced age she bore him a son, who was named mohammed el fadl. it was during abderrahman's reign that the traveller browne visited darfur, and it was this sultan who in sent an address of congratulation to napoleon, then campaigning in lower egypt, and received from him in return a present of two thousand black slaves. during his reign also the nominal capital of kobbé was abandoned for el fasher, which henceforth became the royal residence. abderrahman, before his death, placed his son in charge of the chief eunuch, abu sheikh kura, who had originally been a slave, but had risen to a high position in the royal household; and at the age of thirteen, the youth succeeded to the throne. it is related that when abderrahman died, umbusa's father, omar, was tending the flocks in dar begu, some fifty miles southwest of el fasher, when suddenly a messenger was seen galloping a horse covered with foam, which fell dead before reaching him: the messenger, rushing forward, cried, "i bring you the glad tidings that the son of your noble daughter umbusa was made sultan of darfur five days ago." without saying a word, omar broke with his foot the wall of the dabarek,[ ] and caused the water to flow over the sand, and then shouted, "no more shall the flocks of my family water at this well, for the great and merciful god has chosen my grandson to be ruler over darfur;" and, saying this, he at once distributed his herds amongst those present, and then without delay proceeded to his grandson at el fasher. mohammed el fadl's first step as sultan was to declare his mother's tribe as free for ever, the annual tribute of a girl was no longer to be exacted, and buying and selling of begus was made a crime punishable by death. for some four years the young king, under the guidance of kura, ruled with energy and justice; but now intrigues crept in: it was whispered by some that kura aimed at supreme power, while others asserted that the king was doing his utmost to deprive him of his authority; mutual mistrust, resulting in an open quarrel, prevailed, and in a fight which took place on the rahad river, kura was defeated, taken prisoner, and instantly executed. after this, mohammed el fadl determined to coerce the proud arab tribes who hesitated to comply with his orders and who frequently attempted to shake off the darfurian yoke. his first step was to despatch the official in charge of dara to the beni helba arabs, who had refused to pay tribute; these were speedily coerced, and almost all their property confiscated; he then turned to the ereikat tribe,--one of the most powerful in darfur,--and these also were soon reduced to complete submission; but to subjugate the great rizighat tribe was a more difficult matter. this was the most warlike and powerful tribe in the country. several centuries ago an arab from the far west named ruzeik and his three sons, mahmud, maher, and nueib, with their families, flocks, and herds, emigrated to the southern districts of darfur; here in the vast forests they found abundance of food for themselves, and in these dense and pathless regions they were safe from intrusion. as time went on their numbers rapidly increased, and, being joined by numerous smaller tribes, they became a power in the land, and the sultans of darfur were unable to gain their entire submission. moreover, the districts they peopled were infested in winter by the um bogone (a kind of insect somewhat resembling the tsetse fly), which killed off the cattle. mohammed fadl now decided that the only way to deal with the rizighat was to completely surround them; by degrees their forests were encircled by myriads of darfurians, and gradually the human chain closed in on the luckless tribesmen, who were slaughtered wholesale. at length some captives, being brought before the sultan, were asked where the main body of the rizighat was to be found. "sire," they answered, "we have all been separated and dispersed amongst your own army;" whereupon the sultan issued orders to his chiefs that all men of over thirty years of age wearing beards were to be slain; and after this order had been carried out, the survivors, who were all young men, and some thousands in number, were brought before him. these he classified according to their original families, and divided them into two sections: the first section were allowed to take back their captured wives and children and a proportion of their cattle, and were permitted to remain in their country; also to each widow whose husband had been killed in battle a milch-cow and an ox were given. the second division, which was composed principally of the descendants of the families of mohammed, maher, and nueib, were ordered to move into the northern districts of darfur, and to occupy the lands formerly owned by the now almost exterminated ereikat tribe. this section eventually developed into the powerful tribes now known as the mahamid, maheria, and nueiba, who are, of course, the blood-relatives of the rizighat, who are, in their turn, a division of the baggara, or cattle-owning arabs of the western sudan. mohammed el fadl died early in , and was succeeded by his son, mohammed hussein, who did his utmost to recover the popularity which his father had lost; about the year , however, he became blind, and delegated most of his official work to his eldest sister, iya basi zemzem,--it being an ancient darfur custom that the eldest sister of the reigning sultan should receive the title of iya basi, and exercise a certain political influence. this worthy lady was both extravagant and immoral; the conduct of her court was notorious, and absorbed most of the state revenues. at this period the provinces of bahr el ghazal were subject to darfur, and the black tribes paid tribute of slaves and ivory to the sultans. it often happened that the payment of this tribute was delayed, and this at once offered a pretext for a raid, in which the darfurians invariably obtained large quantities of spoil. the ivory and many of the slaves were sold to the egyptian merchants who travelled along the arbaïn road between assiut and darfur, and for these, turkish and european wares were exchanged. this trade was most lucrative on both sides, and gradually quantities of gold-brocaded stuffs, richly caparisoned saddles, silk embroideries, and other articles of luxury found their way into darfur, besides quantities of jewellery as well as arms and ammunition. and now we come to the period when the famous zubeir pasha enters on the scenes. a member of the gemiab section of the jaalin tribe, he quitted khartum as a young man, and went south in search of a fortune. already several merchants and slave-traders were established in the white nile and bahr el ghazal districts, and the young zubeir became the assistant of the well-known ali abu amuri, so often mentioned by sir samuel baker. affairs prospered with him, and eventually he was able to set up an independent establishment, or zariba, of his own,--his labours lay, so to speak, in virgin soil; with well-armed bands of natives he gradually succeeded in annexing territories and amassing quantities of ivory and slaves, which he exchanged with the nile merchants for arms and ammunition. i do not think zubeir pasha was any worse or any better than the hundreds of other merchants occupied in a traffic which at that time was considered perfectly legitimate; but there is no doubt that he was a man of iron will, and of an energy and intelligence far above the average; and to these qualities may be attributed his ultimate success as an ivory and slave dealer. it is not my intention to describe the various steps by which he became practically ruler of the bahr el ghazal; it will be sufficient for my present purpose to say that at the time of which i write he had become one of the most powerful men in the sudan, and it was not long before the tottering kingdom of darfur fell bodily into his hands; and this is how it came about. zubeir, gradually extending his conquests into the northern districts of bahr el ghazal, began to encroach on those regions which were tributary to the sultan of darfur, and, anxious to avoid a quarrel, he wrote to sultan hussein to the effect that blacks who had no masters, and were heathens, were, in accordance with the law of the prophet, the fair spoil of the moslems; to which hussein replied that he, too, being a descendant of the ancient line, claimed similar rights to deal with black slaves and horse-dealers. by this latter epithet he referred to zubeir, whom he classed amongst the other jaalin known to the darfurians as vendors of dongola horses. zubeir, however, was not to be thwarted, and year by year his influence increased, until he had complete possession of all the bahr el ghazal districts which had paid tribute to darfur. the effect of this on the luxury-loving darfurians was painfully evident. they saw their main source of ivory and slave supplies cut off, and to meet the government expenditure increased taxation was enforced, which resulted in widespread discontent. at this time there lived in sultan hussein's palace a certain mohammed belali of the belalia tribe, which is settled partly in wadai and partly in bornu. this man was a fiki, or religious teacher, and claimed noble descent, thereby ingratiating himself with hussein, much to the annoyance of iya basi and the vizir ahmed shata, who resented his interference, and eventually induced the sultan to drive him out of the country. [illustration: zubeir pasha.] breathing threats of vengeance, he proceeded to khartum and informed the government of the immense riches and fertility of the province of bahr el ghazal and the hofret en nahas district, which no longer belonged to darfur, and were now without a ruler. the astute belali, whose sole object was to injure sultan hussein for having driven him out of the country, conceived this plot, which was destined to bring about a war with darfur. thoroughly trusted by the ignorant khartum authorities, he was despatched, in company with kutshuk ali, who commanded some bashi-bozuks and two hundred regulars, to take possession of those supposed rulerless regions. as may be imagined, zubeir looked with no friendly eye on the intrigues of this upstart; but, with his far-seeing astuteness, he watched and waited patiently for the further development of his rival's plans. meanwhile kutshuk ali died suddenly, and was replaced by haj ali abu nurein; and, at the instigation of the latter, belali, emboldened by zubeir's inaction, proceeded to seize some large stores of grain which he had prepared for his bazingers. zubeir did not hesitate to seize this chance, and, falling on him suddenly, drove him and his men off with some loss. belali now collected as many men as he could, and made a determined attack on zubeir's zariba, but was again repulsed. severely wounded himself, he fled to ganda, where he was pursued, captured by zubeir's men, and taken back to the zariba, where he died. zubeir, however, was not slow to perceive that his action in this matter might have serious consequences. he therefore did all in his power to show that belali was entirely to blame for what had occurred, and, by making valuable presents to belali's men as well as to those in authority, he succeeded in having the matter reported to khartum in its most favourable aspect, with the result that he received a full pardon, and was appointed governor of bahr el ghazal. soon afterwards he confidentially pointed out to the governor-general that great discontent prevailed in the neighbouring state of darfur, and that he had relations with some of the principal dignitaries who would gladly see the country annexed to egypt; and he also volunteered to carry this out without further assistance from the government. after much deliberation his proposal was at length agreed to, and early in he made preparations to seize shakka. let us turn now for a moment to the rizighat. for years following on the terrible treatment they had received at the hands of the darfur sultan, they remained quiet and submissive, but gradually, as the governing power in darfur grew weak, they recovered in proportion, and again assumed a semi-independent position between darfur and bahr el ghazal. attempts were made to collect taxes from them, but they almost invariably drove off the tax-gatherers, and in one of these raids the vizir adam tarbush, one of the principal darfur commanders, lost his life,--curiously enough at the very spot where, some years later, i was destined to suffer a heavy defeat at the hands of the dervishes. on another occasion the rizighat had fallen on a large caravan coming from the nile and kordofan to bahr el ghazal, with which were a number of zubeir's relatives, almost all of whom were killed. zubeir, rightly considering that the rizighat owed allegiance to the sultan of darfur, called on the latter for compensation for the losses he had sustained; but the sultan either would not or could not give it, and zubeir now openly gave out that, being unable to obtain satisfaction, he had determined to punish the rizighat,--being well aware that this must lead to the fulfilment of the project to annex darfur. meanwhile early in sultan hussein had died and had been succeeded by his son, who was nicknamed by the darfurians ibrahim kuiko. i may here mention that some years later, when residing at el fasher as governor, i made the acquaintance of the celebrated fiki mohammed el heliki, who, though a fellata by race, had been born there, and was infinitely the best authority on the former history of darfur. it greatly interested one to talk to this man, and i made a mass of notes which, with many other interesting records, fell subsequently into the hands of the mahdists, and were burnt. i well remember fiki mohammed one day telling me the following story: "three years," he began, "before the death of my master, sultan hussein,--may god give him peace,--i was talking to him about the present and future of the country. bowing down his head and supporting it in his hand,--for the poor man had been blind for the last thirteen years,--he said, 'i feel that my country and the throne of my ancestors are about to be overthrown; god grant i may not live to see that day! already i seem to hear the trumpets of the turks and the distant sound of the ombeÿa blown by the bahhara.[ ] may god have mercy on my son ibrahim and on my unfortunate descendants!'" the fiki then went on to tell me that in spite of his old age and blindness, sultan hussein well knew the state of corruption of his country, and how impossible it was for him to check it; he realised the growing desire of the egyptians to increase their conquests, and he instinctively knew that zubeir and his bazingers would be their instruments. he was a wise man, he said, and though god had deprived him of sight, he had sharpened his intellect. zubeir now lost no time in beginning operations. quitting his fortified post of dem zubeir with a considerable force, he advanced towards shakka, and on reaching the southern frontiers of darfur he was joined by some of the principal chiefs of the rizighat, such as madibbo, egeil wad el jangawi, and several of their men, who, being well acquainted with the districts, acted as his spies and scouts, and considerably facilitated his advance through their country, which was hostile. attacked incessantly by the arabs, and suffering greatly from sickness and privations, zubeir's force advanced steadily, and at length reached abu sigan, which is the centre of the shakka district. there he learnt that sultan ibrahim had despatched a strong force against him, under his vizir (and father-in-law, ahmed shata, ibrahim having married his daughter, um giddein). the latter, since the accession of his son-in-law, had grown discontented, and showed much reluctance in taking command of the expedition against zubeir. he had told his friends he did not seek victory, but preferred to die honourably in the field rather than continue to live under the new rule. zubeir meanwhile strengthened his position at shakka, and made all preparations for the impending attack. he now received from the rizighat a truly characteristic arab message: "the army of the sultan of darfur is advancing. you and they are our enemies. when you begin fighting, we shall remain neutral. if you are defeated, we shall harass you on your retreat, and shall kill you all. if you conquer, then shall we mount our swift horses, follow up the darfurians, and share with you the booty." zubeir was quite satisfied with this arrangement, and patiently awaited events. in the early dawn his outposts saw in the far distance the great darfur army advancing, led by the warriors in coats of mail, wearing chain helmets, and mounted on richly caparisoned horses, whose gold and silver trappings glittered in the morning sun. in front of all, advanced the vizir ahmed shata, as if seeking death. zubeir withdrew all his men within the intrenchments, and when the darfur host had approached sufficiently near, he opened a deadly fire on them. the vizir's horse was instantly shot; but, mounting another, he continued to advance until he fell, riddled with bullets; and with him many of his relations and members of his household, including melek sad en nur and melek en nahas (the chief of the copper drums), whom the sultan had placed as his second in command. deprived of their leaders, the troops retired, and zubeir seized the opportunity to make a counter attack on their flank, which broke up the army, and caused it to disperse in all directions. instantly, from behind the trees, dashed clouds of rizighat horsemen, who slaughtered the flying darfurians, capturing immense quantities of valuable loot, and now they entirely threw in their lot with the conquerors, with the certainty that they would reap considerable benefit. [illustration: a rizighat warrior.] the few who succeeded in escaping the massacre fled to dara, while zubeir sent messages to el obeid and khartum, announcing the victory, and asking for the reinforcements of troops and guns which, in the event of his success, the authorities had agreed to place at his disposal. in due time these arrived, and he continued his advance towards dara, his flank being covered by the advance of the governor-general from el obeid to om shanga, at the head of three thousand regulars and a number of irregular horsemen. with the exception of one small skirmish, zubeir entered dara unopposed, to find it completely deserted. erecting a small fort on the sand-hill, he awaited the attack of sultan ibrahim's sons; but the latter, at the head of a considerable force, merely reconnoitred the position, and, returning to their father at el fasher, urged him to lead his troops against zubeir. ibrahim now collected every available man; but large as were his hosts, there were few amongst them ready to lay down their lives for their ruler. at the head of his army, the sultan advanced to some houses which had belonged to the late vizir, and which were almost within range of the sand-hill, while zubeir withdrew his troops into dara, where he had made all preparations for a siege, and had collected a large store of grain. wishing to make a close inspection of zubeir's position, ibrahim, with a portion of his force, approached the town, and was met by a storm of bullets which killed several of his men, and forced him to retire. the remainder of his force, seeing what appeared to them to have been an attack by the sultan on zubeir's position, which had failed, made some mocking remarks within his hearing. burning with anger, he ordered some of his riflemen to advance and fire on his own troops, who were retiring on the camp, with the result that several were killed and wounded, and the remainder dispersed, while many of those within the camp took advantage of the confusion to desert to their homes. thus was sultan ibrahim the means of the destruction of his own army. and this incident subsequently lost him his kingdom and his life. he now ordered what remained of his army to retire to manawashi, making his chiefs believe that by this movement zubeir would be drawn out of dara, and he would be able to attack him in the open; but his men had now lost all confidence in him, and his army was still further reduced by numerous desertions. zubeir, who had full information from his spies of what was going on in the sultan's camp, now followed him to manawashi, and formed up in battle array, awaiting attack. his arrival was the signal for a general scuttle; men, women, and children fled in all directions; and ibrahim, knowing that all was lost, determined to die an honourable death. donning his coat of mail and helmet, and accompanied by his sons, the kadi, and a few servants, all mounted on their magnificently trapped steeds, they sallied forth, and with drawn swords dashed at the enemy. cutting his way through the first line of bazingers, ibrahim shouted, "fein sidkum ez zubeir?" (where is your master, zubeir?), and then made for the spot where zubeir, dressed like his own men, was directing a gun against the assailants; but he had only gone forward a few steps when he and his little party fell, riddled with bullets. thus perished the last of the long line of kings of darfur, who had ruled this vast country and its millions of inhabitants uninterruptedly for centuries. zubeir ordered the dead sultan to be treated with the greatest respect. the fikis of manawashi were directed to wash the body in accordance with the religious rites; and, wrapped in a costly shroud, it was buried with all honour in the mosque of the town. he now lost no time in informing the governor-general, then at om shanga, of the victory; and the latter, anxious that the rich plunder of the province should not fall into zubeir's hands, hurried forward without delay. meanwhile, zubeir, advancing rapidly, arrived at el fasher in two days, and took possession of the royal treasures, as well as quantities of silver-embossed saddles, arms, jewellery, and thousands of female slaves, whom he distributed amongst his men. a few days afterwards, ismail pasha, the governor-general, arrived, but he was too late; the greater quantity of treasure had already been distributed, though zubeir, by offering him costly presents, did all he could to secure his friendship. there is no doubt, however, that this episode was the commencement of the quarrel between the two men, which eventually developed into mutual deadly hatred. the work of subduing the remainder of the country now began. hasaballa, the old uncle of sultan ibrahim, had taken refuge in jebel marra, and ismail pasha ordered zubeir to advance against him. it was not long before he succeeded in obtaining the submission of both him and the late sultan's brother, abderrahman shattut, both of whom were subsequently sent to cairo,--and they died there; but their families are residing at the present time in upper egypt, and are in receipt of a liberal pension from the government. several of their adherents, however, still held out in jebel marra, and, electing two younger brothers of sultan hussein, viz., bosh and seif ed din, as their leaders, they showed a determination to resist. bosh's first step was to send a certain gabralla, of the fur tribe, as a spy to zubeir's camp. this man enjoyed the entire confidence of his chief, who had given him in marriage his beautiful daughter, um selima, in spite of the opposition of the family. gabralla, on reaching zubeir's camp, fell an easy prey to that astute warrior. the promise of pardon and a high position under the government were quite sufficient inducements to him to betray his father-in-law and give the fullest information as to his position and strength. he then returned to bosh, whom he advised to remain where he was, as zubeir's troops were suffering much from the cold and disease, and he had no intention to attack. zubeir was, however, following in gabralla's footsteps, and on a given signal, previously arranged between them, bosh's camp was suddenly surprised, and easily fell into his hands, though bosh and seif ed din succeeded in escaping to kebkebia, where they again collected a force. zubeir, however, followed them up, and in the pitched battle which ensued, both leaders were killed, and the last remnant of the darfur force finally dispersed, leaving the country entirely in the hands of the egyptian government. zubeir, now promoted to the rank of pasha, returned to el fasher, where ismail pasha was occupied in regulating the administration of the country and freely levying taxes; and it was not long before serious differences between the two men arose. zubeir, having conquered the country, was somewhat resentful that its government had not been confided to him, while ismail, anxious to free himself from the incubus of zubeir, ordered him to occupy dara and shakka with his troops; but the latter, angry at the treatment he had received, despatched a message from dara, _via_ el obeid, to h. h. the khedive, ismail pasha, begging to be allowed to come to cairo. permission was immediately accorded to him and any others who wished to proceed; and zubeir, having appointed his son suleiman as his agent, started without delay, taking with him numbers of male and female slaves and valuable presents. travelling by khartum and korosko, he at length reached cairo, where he was cordially received, and lost no time in laying before the khedive his grounds of complaint against ismail pasha ayub. the latter was, in consequence, summoned to egypt, and made several charges against zubeir, with the result that both were kept in cairo. meanwhile, hassan pasha helmi el juwaizer had been appointed the representative of the government in darfur, and it was not long before the inhabitants began to settle down under the new system. they were tired of the arbitrary rule of the sultans, and longed for change; but they soon discovered that if their kings had chastised them with whips, their new rulers, in the shape of zubeir's bazingers and the crowds of irregular shaigias and dishonest egyptian officials, who swarmed into the country, chastised them with scorpions. it was not long before the most bitter discontent prevailed throughout the country, and already there appeared signs of revolt. electing harun er reshid, the son of seif ed din, as their sultan, they secretly planned the massacre of several of the small outlying garrisons, and in an incredibly short space of time the larger towns of dara, el fasher, kebkebia, and kulkul were closely invested. at el fasher, the fort was twice almost successfully stormed, and on one occasion the governor, feeling that it must fall, had made all preparations to blow up the powder magazine and destroy himself and his garrison; but fortunately the troops, after a desperate encounter, succeeded in driving the enemy out of the position. meanwhile the khartum authorities lost no time in sending a relieving force under abd er razzak pasha, which, reinforced at el obeid, advanced to darfur by forced marches, and at a place called brush, midway between om shanga and el fasher, they inflicted a heavy defeat on the rebels. pushing on rapidly, el fasher was relieved a few days later, reinforcements were sent to kebkebia and kulkul, and the country was once more made subject to the egyptian government. on the recall of ismail pasha ayub, gordon was appointed governor-general of the sudan, and, as i have already related, he thought it expedient to visit darfur without delay. in fact, when he reached el fasher, kebkebia, and kulkul, the revolt was only partially suppressed; but, utterly fearless, he rode with only a small escort all over the country, and frequently placed himself in positions of extreme danger, from which his pluck and presence of mind alone saved him. from el fasher he visited dara, and by his kindness and sympathy with the people he succeeded in a large measure in quieting the districts; with a mere handful of men and the assistance of a few rizighat arabs he completely quelled the mima and khawabir arabs, who were the most restless and independent tribes in the country, and gradually through his efforts peace was once more established throughout the land. sultan harun with a few followers had taken refuge in the wilds of jebel marra, where they had been followed by hassan pasha helmi, who twice defeated them, at murtal and murtafal, and had pursued the survivors as far as niurnia. gordon now turned his attention to the establishment of a government administration; his first step was to remit the greater part of the taxes, which, owing to the war, could not possibly have been paid, and he gave strict injunctions to the officials to deal leniently with the people, warning them that any disregard of his orders in this respect would be dealt with very severely. in order to equalise revenue and expenditure as far as possible, he reduced the darfur garrison considerably, sending back to el obeid and khartum a large number of the regular infantry and cavalry who had been despatched to quell the late revolt. these economical measures, although undoubtedly very necessary in the interests of the new province, had subsequently a most disastrous effect. official business obliged him to return to khartum, leaving hassan pasha helmi as governor; and the latter, four months before my arrival, was relieved by messedaglia bey, who had been governor of dara for a few months. harun, meanwhile, had somewhat recovered himself, and established a species of independent rule in niurnia, which had been in early times the capital of the tago princes; from thence he would occasionally descend to the plains and raid the villages which had submitted to government, returning laden with booty to his stronghold. such was briefly the state of the province of darfur when i arrived at el fasher. the garrison of this town consisted of two battalions of regulars, two batteries of field artillery, and two hundred and fifty irregular shaigia horsemen, under omar wad darho; at dara there was one battalion of regulars, one field battery, fifty irregular horsemen, and two hundred irregular riflemen, or bazingers; while in kebkebia and kulkul there were six companies of regulars, four hundred bazingers, and twenty-five horsemen. after a few days' rest at el fasher, dr. zurbuchen and i continued our journey to dara, and were accompanied a short distance along the road by messedaglia bey, who told us that his wife was coming to khartum, and that he was asking for leave of absence to go and meet her there and bring her to el fasher. i suggested that it would be advisable to wait till sultan harun had been dealt with before bringing his wife so far; but messedaglia replied there was not the least cause for fear, and that there were now quite sufficient troops in the country to suppress any local difficulties. i had heard, however, that harun's influence was considerable, and that there was some apprehension that the now reduced government forces might be hard pressed. having only just come to the country and having had no previous experience, it was of course impossible for me to judge; i therefore accepted messedaglia's views on the situation, and, bidding him and said bey guma, the commandant, farewell, we hurried on towards dara, our road taking us through keriut, ras el fil, and shieria. zurbuchen was a very much older-looking man than myself, with a long black beard and spectacles, whilst i looked perhaps even younger than i was. the hair on my upper lip had scarcely begun to sprout, and altogether i had a most boyish face; consequently wherever we went he was invariably taken for the governor, and i for the doctor or apothecary. as we approached the end of our journey, the doctor, who was suffering from fever, had to ride slowly, and to save time for official work, i rode on slightly ahead, and happened to reach the village of shieria (a day's march from dara) a little before the appointed time. i found the villagers busily preparing for our reception, the houses were being swept out, straw mats laid down, and the kadi and sheikh had spread out their carpets, on which the new governor was to repose. making my camel kneel down, i got off, and to inquiries as to who i was, i answered, "one of the new governor's escort;" having previously warned the rest of my escort to say nothing. the inquisitive villagers now assailed me with innumerable questions. "what sort of man is the new governor?" said one. "oh," i replied, "i think he will do his best, and i believe he is inclined to be just and easy going." "but is he brave and kind-hearted," said another. this was rather a puzzling question to answer, so i replied guardedly, "he does not look as if he were afraid, but i haven't yet heard much about his courage; he has a manly appearance, and i believe he is kind-hearted; but of course it is impossible for him to satisfy every one." "ah!" said another, "if we only had a governor like gordon pasha, then the country would indeed be contented; he never ceased to distribute money and presents, and never sent the poor and needy away without giving them something. i only once heard him say some harsh words, and that was when suleiman zubeir was at dara, and when he turned to the kadi, saying that there were several bad characters amongst the sudanese, and that it did not always do to treat them leniently." "yes," chimed in the kadi, "i heard him say so myself; but he referred only to the gellabas and traders who came from the nile, and who were implicated with zubeir and his son in every description of unlawful trade by which they could benefit themselves." "gordon was indeed a brave man," said the sheikh of the village, who introduced himself as muslem wad kabbashi, "i was one of his chiefs in the fight against the mima and khawabir arabs: it was in the plain of fafa and a very hot day. the enemy had charged us and had forced back the first line, and their spears were falling thick around us; one came within a hair's breadth of gordon, but he did not seem to mind it at all, and the victory we won was entirely due to him and his reserve of one hundred men. when the fight was at its worst, he found time to light a cigarette. never in my life did i see such a thing; and then the following day, when he divided the spoil, no one was forgotten, and he kept nothing for himself. he was very tender-hearted about women and children, and never allowed them to be distributed, as is our custom in war; but he fed and clothed them at his own expense, and had them sent to their homes as soon as the war was over. one day," continued the sheikh, "without letting him know, we put some women aside; but if he had found us out, we should have had a bad time of it." after a short pause, i inquired about affairs in dara and about the qualifications of the various officials; for i had already heard that they were very unreliable, and i was now told that they looked on my advent with no friendly eye. meanwhile dr. zurbuchen and the rest of the caravan had arrived, and at once the sheikh, kadi, and other village dignitaries lined up in a semi-circle to receive him, while i, concealing myself as much as possible, awaited with amusement to hear what muslem wad kabbashi would say; he began with warm welcome to the new governor, praised his qualifications, and eloquently described the joy of all his people at his arrival. poor dr. zurbuchen, whose comprehension of arabic was very slight, became more and more perplexed. "indeed i am not the governor," he urged, "i am only the sanitary inspector. the governor must have arrived long ago; but as he had only a few people with him, perhaps he has been mistaken for some one else." i now thought it time to step forward, and laughingly thanked the villagers for their kind reception, assuring them that i would do all in my power to satisfy their wants, and that at the same time i looked to them to assist me in seeing my orders carried out. of course they made the most profuse apologies for the mistake; but i assured them there was not the least necessity for their doing so. i was anxious, i said, to be on the most intimate and friendly terms with all of them, and i hoped they would allow the same friendly relations to continue. from that day forth, sheikh muslem wad kabbashi became one of my most faithful friends, and continued to be so, in times of joy and sorrow, until i left the country. this little episode had given us all a hearty appetite, and we sat down to an excellent meal of roast mutton; and that over, we were again in the saddle, bivouacking for the night under a large tree about two hours' march from dara. at sunrise the next morning i sent on a messenger to announce our approach, and on reaching the outskirts we were given a great military reception, the garrison was drawn up in line and a salute of seven guns fired, after which the troops filed off to their barracks, and, accompanied by major hassan helmi, the commandant, zogal bey, the sub-governor, the kadi, and some of the principal merchants, we proceeded to the fort in which the government buildings are situated. the inspection lasted about half an hour, and i then went to my own quarters, in which i had ordered rooms to be prepared for dr. zurbuchen, who was to be my guest for a few days. dara, which is the capital of southern darfur, is built in the midst of a large plain of partly sand and partly clay soil, the fort itself being on the top of a low sand-hill,--in fact, on the same spot in which zubeir pasha had entrenched himself when invading the country. it was a rectangular stone enclosure twelve feet high, about five hundred yards long and three hundred yards broad, with flanking towers at each corner, and surrounded by a broad ditch twelve feet deep. the troops were quartered in huts built along the inside of the enclosure, and in the centre were the government buildings, consisting of the governor's house, divan, and the various offices and courts of justice, as well as the arms, grain-store, and prison. some distance east of the fort was the old mosque built by sultan mohammed el fadl, which the former governor had converted into a powder-magazine, but which gordon had restored to the town for its proper purpose. close to the southern gate were the houses of zogal bey, the kadi, and the commandant, built mostly of burnt brick and enclosed by walls. the town of dara, consisting chiefly of straw and mud huts, lay a few hundred yards to the east of the fort, while upwards of half a mile to the west was situated the village of goz en naam, and beyond it again the hamlet of khummi. inclusive of the garrison, the population of dara numbered between seven and eight thousand, most of whom belonged to the local tribes; but there were also a considerable number of nile merchants and traders. it being the month of ramadan, which is the great fast, a meal of roasted meat, bread, dates, and lemonade had been prepared for us; but the officials sent a message to say they regretted they could not join us. i confess to being only too glad of this respite, for we were thoroughly tired. our things unpacked, i now sat down to consider how to make myself as comfortable as i could. at sunset, the gun boomed out the signal that one day more of ramadan had gone; and now the hungry and thirsty inhabitants, their daily fast over, hurried to their evening meal. zogal bey, hassan effendi rifki, kadi el beshir, and the chief merchant, mohammed ali, now came to see us, and asked us to dine with them; they were followed by a host of servants bearing roast mutton, fowls, milk, and rice,--which is usually eaten with hot melted butter and honey,--and dishes of asida (meat spread over with a thin layer of very fine dukhn flour, over which sauce is poured, and on the top of all is a thin layer of paste, sprinkled with sugar); this completed the menu. in a few minutes the ground just outside the house, which had been sprinkled with fine sand, was spread with carpets and palm mats, and on these the dishes were laid. zogal bey began distributing the viands amongst those who had come to welcome me, including the servants, but keeping, of course, the best dishes for the more select company. we now sat down, and the tearing and rending of the roast sheep began with a vengeance; of course, knives and forks were out of the question. scarcely had we settled down to the feast, when a great hubbub arose amongst the servants, who were evidently trying to prevent two men from pushing their way into our circle. i begged zogal bey to inquire what was the matter. licking his greasy fingers, he got up, and returned in a few minutes, carrying a document which proved to be a letter from ahmed katong and gabralla, the two chiefs of an irregular corps which garrisoned the station of bir gowi, some three days' march southwest of dara: this was to say they had just received information that sultan harun was going to attack them, and that as they had only a small force, they proposed to evacuate their station, unless reinforcements could be sent at once; but they said that if they left the district, all the villages would be plundered. there was no time to be lost, so i ordered hassan effendi rifki to select two hundred regulars and twenty horsemen, to be ready to start with me at once for bir gowi. zogal and hassan both urged that it was unnecessary for me to go, as i wanted rest after the long journey; but i said that as my principal object in coming to darfur was to fight sultan harun,--in accordance with gordon pasha's orders,--i intended to take the earliest possible opportunity of doing so. seeing that i was not to be stopped, and secretly rejoicing that neither of them had been saddled with the responsibility of taking command, they now hurried on with the preparations. the pony which gordon had given me was too tired to be taken, so i asked if any one present could lend or sell me a good horse. zogal happened to have just bought a large white syrian horse, and at once sent for it; he was a strong, well-made animal, quite suitable for the fatigues of a campaign, and as he had formerly been owned by an officer, was used to the noise of firing. seeing that i liked the look of the horse, zogal immediately begged my acceptance of it by way of diafa (hospitality); but i went to some pains to explain to him that it was not customary in my country to accept such presents, and that here in the sudan, he being my subordinate, i could not think of it. unfortunately, i had previously mentioned gordon's gift of a pony to me, and of course zogal brought this up as a parallel case; but i replied that there was no objection to accepting a present from a high official given entirely by way of friendship. after considerable discussion, i at length succeeded in making him accept one hundred and eighty dollars; but he did so under great protest. by midnight all was ready, and, bidding dr. zurbuchen good-bye, i started off for the southwest, saying that i hoped to see him again in four or five days. i was young, strong, and keen to have some fighting experience, and i well remember my delight at the thought of a brush with sultan harun. the idea of difficulties and fatigue never crossed my mind; all i longed for was a chance of showing my men that i could lead them. at sunrise i halted my little party, which consisted of two hundred blacks,--the officers also being sudanese,--and the horsemen turks and egyptians, and addressed them in a short speech, saying that at present i was an entire stranger to them, but they should see i was ready to share fatigue and discomfort with them on all occasions, and that i hoped we should march rapidly forward with a good heart. simple as my harangue undoubtedly was, i saw that it had made an impression, and when i had finished, they raised their rifles above their heads, in sudanese fashion, and shouted that they were ready to conquer or die. at noon we halted near a village, and i then carefully inspected the men. they were all well armed, and had a plentiful supply of ammunition; each man was also provided with a water-bottle made out of goat or gazelle skin, known as "sen" (pl. siun); but they had brought no rations with them. on inquiry, i was told, "wherever you go in darfur you will always find something to eat." i therefore made my way to the sheikh of the village, and asked him to supply some dukhn. this corn is generally soaked in water, then pressed, mixed with tamarind fruit, and eaten in this condition; the bitter-sweet water being an excellent thirst-quencher. this food europeans usually find indigestible; but it is very nourishing, and is eaten almost exclusively by the sudanese soldiers when campaigning. i gradually got accustomed to it, taking it almost invariably when out on such expeditions; but i found that unless one was feeling very well, it generally brought on most painful indigestion. the sheikh now brought us the corn, and also a large dish of asida, which was divided amongst the men; and whilst they were having their meal, i asked the officers to share with me a tin of preserved meat, which they admitted was much superior to the asida and dukhn. i then called up my clerk, and told him to write out a receipt for the corn, which he was to give the sheikh, to be his voucher for the remission of taxation equivalent to the value of the dukhn supplied. but the good man, when he understood my orders, refused to accept the receipt, adding that it was not only his duty to give the corn, but that the rights of hospitality demanded it. i told him, however, that i was well aware the natives of darfur were most generous; but to impose the feeding of two hundred men on him quite exceeded the bounds of hospitality, and that it was only just he should receive payment. he at length agreed, and this conversation appeared to give him confidence; for he admitted that if this principle were always carried out, the natives would greatly appreciate it; but, unfortunately, it was the usual custom for troops arriving at a village to enter the houses, and take anything and everything they wanted, with the result that the inhabitants dreaded their approach, and at once tried to hide all they had. i thanked the sheikh for telling me this, and promised i would do all i could to rectify the evil. we moved on again at three o'clock, loaded with the blessings of this good man and his people, and after a quick march of four hours halted in a small plantation of trees. our route had led us across a country overgrown with dense bush, and intersected by innumerable dry gullies; and here and there we passed a village buried amongst the trees. from our halting-place i sent off two horsemen to bir gowi to announce our approach; and, after a refreshing rest of five hours under the wild fig-trees and tamarisks, we started off again, and marched almost uninterruptedly till noon the following day. we once or twice had to ask for corn, and always had the same difficulty in getting the sheikhs to accept the receipt; but as i insisted, they generally ended by gladly taking it. i was anxious, if possible, to reach bir gowi before dark, so pushed on; we passed on the way a large plantation of deleb palms, and had to be careful not to be struck by the heavy fruit, which, weighing from two to three pounds, and falling from a height of some forty feet, was a positive danger. woe to the unfortunate traveller who thoughtlessly halts for the night in one of these palm-groves! the natives, however, are very careful, and generally warn the unsuspecting of the risk of sleeping anywhere near these trees when bearing fruit. at sunset we reached bir gowi, which was situated in the centre of a large clearing; and to reach the station we had to pass between the stumps of trees, which considerably impeded the march. it was surrounded by a square zariba, each side of which measured about one hundred and eighty paces, and consisted of a thorn barricade about twelve feet thick and six feet high; on the inside, the ground was raised to enable the men to fire over it from a platform, and the whole was surrounded by a ditch nine feet wide, and about nine feet deep. the garrison, consisting of some hundred and twenty men armed with rifles, was drawn up outside, with their officers, ready to salute. i halted the men, and, riding forward, saluted the garrison, and was welcomed by the vigorous beating of the nahas (copper war-drums) and noggaras (other drums, made from the hollow trunk of a tree, covered on both sides with skin), the blowing of bugles and antelope horns, and the rattling of dry skins filled with pebbles,--a very effective, but by no means melodious band, diversified by the occasional crack of rifles fired off in a promiscuous manner, and which could not exactly be compared to a _feu de joie_, though no doubt the intention was the same. after inspecting the garrison, i ordered my men to file into the fort. the interior of the zariba was filled with straw huts, those of the chiefs being surrounded by high straw enclosures; but there was sufficient room for us all, and i was given a good-sized hut, standing in almost the only open place visible. the object of the bir gowi military post was to protect the surrounding villages from raids; but the strength of the garrison to take the offensive was insufficient, and it would probably have been of little use. dismounting from my horse, i sat on an angareb, and sent for ahmed katong and gabralla to discuss the situation, and obtain the latest news about harun's movements. katong soon arrived, hobbling along on a crutch. he belonged to the fung tribe, his forefathers having been captured by the furs, after the conquest of kordofan, and he had been made hakem khot, or chief of the district; his duty being to collect taxes, and at the same time to be responsible for the security of the country. in reply to my question as to how he had become lame, he told me that some years before he had been struck in the knee by a bullet. "since that date," said ahmed, "i always have a saddled horse near me. in the zariba, of course, it does not matter; but when travelling in these unsettled times, and when one is liable to be attacked at any moment, i lie down to sleep holding the bridle in my hand. those with good legs can easily get away in case of danger; but with a stump like mine i cannot run, so i have taught myself to mount my horse quickly, with one leg." i now begged them to give me the latest news about harun. "gabralla," said ahmed, "sent out spies, who returned this afternoon, and who state that harun has collected his men, but has not yet come down from the mountains;" and gabralla, chiming in, said, "yes, i did so, and have sent off others to watch his movements; if he comes here i don't think we shall run away now." i could not help scanning this man with some curiosity. he was tall, and of the usual black complexion of the fur tribe; he possessed also--which is very unusual--a well-shaped aquiline nose and a small mouth; he had a slight beard, was about forty years of age, and had a very pleasant expression. yet this was the villain who had betrayed the father of his own beautiful wife! was i to trust him, or not? he had certainly every inducement to be loyal, for should he fall into the hands of harun, he would doubtless pay with his life for the death of his uncle and his father-in-law. naturally i gave him no occasion to discover my thoughts, and we chatted about former times, agreeing they were very different from the present; he then began to talk of himself, and told me how he was employed as a spy to bring the news of harun's movements to dara, and thence to el fasher. he had between thirty and forty of his old slaves, who were armed, and whose duty it was to guard and serve him, whilst the older male servants and female slaves had to work in the fields and keep the household supplied with corn. being in the pay of the government, he was quite content, but told me that he wanted to do something which would qualify him for the rank of bey. "zogal, who is a friend of mine," he said, "is a bey." by this time i was so thoroughly tired and sleepy after my long journey, followed by the two days' hard marching, that i went to bed; but my head ached, and the incessant beating of drums in my honour kept me awake all night, and the following morning i felt really unwell. ahmed katong came to see me, and i told him i had a bad headache. "we can easily cure that," said ahmed, cheerfully. "i have a man here who can stop headaches at once; he is a much better man than the doctor at dara,--indeed there is no doctor at dara; he is really only an apothecary, with the courtesy title of doctor." "all right," said i, "but how is he going to cure me?" "oh! it is very simple," he answered; "he places both his hands on your head, and repeats something; then you get perfectly well,--in fact, better than you were before." "then let him come at once," i cried. i was young and ignorant in those days, and i thought that possibly one of these wandering arabs might have visited europe and learned something of the magnetic cure, and had given up the pleasures of life in order to make himself useful to mankind. i confess to feeling a little mistrustful when i thought of what ahmed had said; but then, after all, doctors in europe speak, so why should not he? in a few minutes ahmed ushered into my presence a tall dark man with a white beard, who appeared to be a native of bornu, and introduced him as "the doctor who will cure your headache." without a moment's hesitation, the doctor placed his hand on my head, pressed my temples with his thumb and forefinger, and, muttering a few words i could not understand, to my horror, spat in my face. in a moment i had jumped up and knocked him down; but ahmed, who was standing by, leaning on his crutch, begged me not to take it in this way. "it was not really meant for rudeness," he said; "it is merely a part of the cure, and will do you much good." but the poor doctor, whose confidence had been somewhat shaken, and was still standing at a distance, muttered, "headache is the work of the devil, and i must drive it out; several passages from the kuran and the sayings of holy men direct that it should be chased away by spitting, and thus his evil work in your head will cease!" in spite of my annoyance, i could not help laughing. "so i am supposed to be possessed of a devil," i said; "i trust he was only a little one, and that you have really driven him out." i did not, however, let him make a second experiment, and, giving him a dollar as compensation, i bade him good-bye, and he left me, calling down the blessings of heaven on my poor head, which was still aching sadly. all day we awaited news of sultan harun's movements, and as there was nothing to be done i kept to my bed. i was just dozing off, when my servant announced that katong and gabralla wished to see me. they were admitted, for i thought that no doubt they brought news of harun; but it was only to say that it was the custom of the country, and one of the claims of hospitality, that, having only one horse, i should accept from each of them a fine country bred animal as a mark of their loyalty and respect. i replied to them much in the same terms as i had answered zogal, adding that i had no doubt we should remain equally good friends without giving and taking presents, provided they continued to carry out their duties faithfully. although they appeared greatly distressed at my refusal to accept the horses, i have no doubt they went home rejoicing secretly that i had refused their gifts. however, before many minutes had passed, gabralla came back and asked to say just a few words. he had been much pained, he said, by my refusal to take the horse, and now, as i was quite alone and very unwell, he took the liberty of offering me one of his maid-servants. "she is young and pretty," he said, "and has been well brought up in my house; she knows how to prepare native food, is good at housework, and is above all a good and careful nurse, and thoroughly understands all the ailments of the country." again i was obliged to refuse this proffered kindness; so poor gabralla went away somewhat downcast with his failure. but having already had a rather painful experience at the hands of the doctor, i was not particularly anxious to intrust myself to the tender mercies of even a dusky maiden, however proficient a nurse she might be. the next morning i arose feeling quite myself again; and when i met ahmed and told him that i had recovered, he at once answered, "of course, i knew you would get quite well; isa (the name of my doctor) has never yet put his hands on any one and failed to cure him." another day passed, and still no news of harun. accompanied by katong and gabralla, i visited the market, which was about a hundred yards outside the zariba, and was held specially for the benefit of the surrounding villagers, who purchased here all they required. sometimes the beni helba arabs, who reside in this part of the country, are seen here. women sitting on the ground expose palm mats for sale, as well as giraffe, antelope, and cow meat; salt is also an important commodity, besides a great variety of native vegetables which are used as ingredients in making sauces for the asida dish. men are to be seen selling takaki, or native woven linen and cotton cloth, thread, natron, and sulphur, which the arabs buy freely to grind, and mix with the grease with which they rub their heads. the women are usually the marissa vendors; and here and there a young female slave is exposed for sale. i thought i must buy something, so invested in a few palm mats. on the following day, about noon, one of gabralla's messengers returned with the news that sultan harun had collected his men, but still had not moved down from his summer resort in the hills. on the fourth day after our arrival at bir gowi, a second messenger came in and stated that when sultan harun heard from the natives that i had left dara for bir gowi with the intention of fighting him, he had at once disbanded his men, who had dispersed over jebel marra. thoroughly disappointed with my first failure, i returned crestfallen to dara, but before doing so visited the sulphur spring from which the station of bir gowi (or the strong well) is named. the warm water spouts up from the centre of a sandy depression, and is cooled by two small streams artificially led into it. natives affected with rheumatism or diseases of the blood bathe in this spring, and are said to derive great benefit from its strengthening properties. nine days after leaving dara i was back there again, and by that time dr. zurbuchen had gone, leaving behind him a letter in which he wished me all success. i also found that during my absence my unfortunate arab clerk who had accompanied me when i was financial inspector, and had come with me to dara, had become crazy: they had put him into a house next my own, and when i went to see him, he sprang forward to embrace me, crying out, "thank god! sultan harun has done no harm to you; but zogal bey is a traitor, beware of him. i have ordered the fires in the engine to be lighted, in order that the train may take you to europe, where you will be able to see your relations again. i shall come with you; but we must be careful about zogal, he is a scoundrel!" evidently the poor man's mind was quite unhinged; nevertheless, crazy people sometimes speak the truth. i quieted the poor old man, and induced him to lie down till he heard the engine's whistle warning us to be off; and, commending him to the care of the servants, i went away. five days later, the whistle had sounded, and the poor man had been carried off to his long home,--his death was, i suppose, due to a rush of blood to the brain. i now busied myself with the administrative affairs of the province of dara, which, exclusive of the districts of kalaka and shakka, comprised five divisions, or kisms, viz., toweisha, kershu, giga, sirga, and arebu, each of which was supposed to pay taxes at a fixed rate; but i found that the officials conducted affairs just as they pleased. it was thought impossible to take regular taxes from arabs who had no settled places of abode, and whose wealth in cattle was continually increasing; a system had, therefore, been arrived at by which each tribe was assessed at a fixed sum, for the payment of which the head-sheikh was made responsible, and he, in turn, assessed the various sub-tribes by a mutual arrangement with which the government did not interfere. i now ordered each district to forward lists to me showing the name and number of the villages and the names of the landowners and traders in every village. when these came in, it would be an easy matter to lay down definitely the rates to be paid by every individual. it was also my intention to make an inspection of every district, in order to see for myself the quality of soil, and assess the value locally; and at the same time my inspections would enable me to see for myself the strength of the arab tribes, and thus acquire some real data for laying down the tribute which they should pay. about a month after my return from bir gowi, i received a letter in french from messedaglia, telling me that he had determined to put an end to the harun trouble; and for this purpose he ordered me to move secretly _via_ manawashi and kobbé, with a division of regular troops, towards jebel marra, and attack niurnia, the sultan's residence. at the same time, he wrote, he was despatching troops from el fasher, _via_ tura, and from kulkul, _via_ abu haraz, to rendezvous at a certain spot and co-operate in the attack. in compliance with this order, i left dara with two hundred and twenty regulars and sixty bazingers; but as the horses were unshod, and not used to hill work, i took only six of them. it was then the month of february, and extremely cold. we marched _via_ manawashi, where i visited the tomb of the last sultan of the fur dynasty, and on the following day we bivouacked near kobbé, close to the defile which leads to jebel marra. being now fairly near the enemy, i increased the outposts; but we passed the night without being disturbed. early the next morning we began our march through the defile, carefully protecting the flanks by sending parties up the hills on both sides. in an hour and a half we had traversed the valley and reached the village of abdel gelil, who was one of harun's chiefs. he had quitted the village only the day before; and, dividing amongst the men the corn we found, we continued our march over most rugged country, alternate steep hills and deep valleys, and here and there a stony plain. my men, being unused to climbing of this description, got very tired. the country was completely forsaken; not a human being was to be seen. occasionally, close to the track, we came across small deserted huts with stone walls and thatched roofs; and now and then were to be seen little patches of ground, either at the bottom of the valleys or on the slopes of the hills, planted with various sorts of wheat; and there were wild fig-trees in abundance. that night we bivouacked on a small plateau; but, fearing to expose our position, we did not dare to light fires, though we could have procured plenty of wood from the huts. in spite of our warm clothing, the cold was bitter; but it was better to bear that than make ourselves a target for the enemy, who, armed with remington rifles, were in all probability prowling about on the heights. at sunrise we marched on again, and halted in the afternoon on an open plain called by the natives dem es sakat (the cold camp); so named because zubeir pasha, in his darfur campaign, had stayed here and had lost many men from the cold. the next day, although i had ordered a large fire to be lit, several of the men were reported to me as being unable to move, owing to the cold; but we mounted them on the donkeys and mules, and so brought them along with us. at noon we reached the highest point of jebel marra, and had a magnificent view over the whole country; and far in the distance could be seen niurnia, the objective of our expedition. this ancient capital of the fur sultans lay far down the valley, where it began to open out into the plain, and was almost buried in a mass of wild fig-trees. with my glasses i could just descry people apparently hurriedly quitting the village and leading their horses. we pushed on, but it took us four hours to climb down the mountain side; and it was not till sunset that, preceded by a line of skirmishers, we entered the town to find it completely evacuated. sultan harun's mosque lay to the west of the town, and was enclosed by a stone wall four and a half feet high and a hundred yards square. the mosque itself was in the centre of the enclosure, and was a stone building about forty feet square, with a straw-thatch roof. some three hundred yards from the mosque lay the houses of the sultan, built of mud and stone; and one of them was furnished with a second story. they were all surrounded by straw fences, and near them were the huts of the personal retainers and armed men. the open space between the mosque and house was divided by a silvery stream of beautifully clear water. the mosque being empty, i turned my men into it, as i thought it the safest place to be in in case of attack. the same evening a mountaineer was caught creeping into the village; and on assuring him that i meant him no harm, he told me, through an interpreter (he did not speak arabic), that sultan harun, with all his men, had left niurnia that morning, and had gone west in the direction of abu haraz, but that he had sent all the young slaves and those not strong enough to march, to a safe place in the mountains, about an hour's distance from the town. as i had to wait for the troops from kebkebia and kulkul, which should have already arrived, it was impossible for me to pursue harun. i therefore proposed to the spy, under promise of a good reward, that he should lead me to the hiding-place in the hills. accordingly, we started the next morning at an early hour, with one hundred men and a couple of horses, and had not been out more than half an hour when, from the direction from which we had just come, i heard some shots, and then a series of volleys. was it possible sultan harun had suddenly returned and was attacking my men? i instantly turned back, and, galloping on in front, reached an open space, in which i saw soldiers firing at each other. my trumpeter, whom i had mounted behind me, now jumped down, and i shouted to him to sound the "cease fire;" but for a few minutes i could not get them to take any notice. still riding on, i came within range, and a bullet passed through the cloak i had thrown over my shoulders to keep out the cold, and my horse was slightly struck in the hind leg. at last i managed to stop the firing, and summoned the officers to find out what had occurred. it now transpired that the troops advancing from el fasher under kasem effendi and his assistant, mohammed bey khalil, had been informed that sultan harun was in niurnia. they had marched all night, and, concealing themselves behind the huts, had crept in unawares close to the big fire round which my men were sleeping, and had suddenly fired on them. the latter, alarmed, had jumped up and begun firing, believing that they were attacked by harun's men. my chief officer, hassan rifki (who was one of those who had been present at the death of suleiman zubeir), had done his utmost to check the firing by repeated bugle-signals; but the fasher troops, who had been told that sultan harun also had buglers who wore the fez, could not be induced to stop. curiously enough, during the late revolt several of the soldiers had deserted and joined sultan harun. it was only when i appeared on the scene that the contending parties realised what had happened. both sides had suffered: three of my men had been killed and four wounded, while the fasher troops had lost four killed and seven wounded. i had a small field dispensary, and dressed the wounds as best i could; and then ordered a statement of what had occurred to be taken down and sent to the authority concerned. the horse which i had bought from zogal, and which i had left at the mosque, was struck in the neck by a bullet, which had slightly penetrated, and he almost died from loss of blood; but fortunately the ball had not lodged in a vital part, and after some days he recovered. we remained ten days at niurnia, and still the troops coming from kulkul had not arrived; while communication by letter-carriers between us and dara and fasher was interrupted by the mountaineers, who would not allow the messengers through. during this waiting time i made a small expedition to the village of abderrahman kusa, one of harun's principal men. but it was deserted, though i knew that the villagers were concealing themselves amongst the rocks and were watching our movements; they had always early information, and were able to make off in good time. during this march we came across some trees to which curious clay vessels had been attached, and which i learnt were beehives. on the advice of sheikh taher we did not go near the trees, as he said the bees would probably attack us, but halted some two miles away. that evening sheikh taher, taking some wood and straw, smoked out one of the hives and brought us a quantity of excellent honey; but his servants, who accompanied him, carried in a dying bazinger on a stretcher. he was one of my men; and when he saw the hives, he had fallen out of the ranks, and, tying some cloth round his hands and face, had attempted to procure some honey. the bees had attacked him, and he had fallen off the tree unconscious, where he lay until picked up by the others; and i do not think i ever saw a more terrible sight. his face was swollen beyond all recognition, and his tongue protruded to an enormous size from his widely distended mouth. the poor man never regained consciousness, and died in an hour or two. we had to start off before sunrise the next morning, as the sheikh told us that when the sun was up the bees would probably attack us. on our return to niurnia i gave orders to start back the following day, marching _via_ dar omongawi, murtal, and murtafal. on our way we passed through several villages and took the people entirely by surprise, for they had not expected us from the west. most of the men had been collected by sultan harun, and those who could escape to the hills did so; but my men captured about thirty women, whom we took along with us for a short distance. in one village the people were so completely surprised that few of them had time to fly; and, seeing that they were only women, i sounded the halt, in order to give them a chance of getting away. i then formed up the men on the road, so as to prevent them scattering through the village, and in this formation we marched on. one poor woman, i noticed, in her hurry to escape, had left her two children on a rock, while she herself fled like a gazelle up the mountain side. going to the rock, i found two pretty little babies, quite naked, but with strings of coral round their waists and necks. they were as black as ravens, and probably twins about eighteen months old. dismounting, i went up to them, and they began to cry and cling to each other; so, taking them in my arms, i told my servant to bring me some sugar from my travelling-bag. this pacified them at once; and, smiling through their tears, they munched what to them was probably the nicest thing they had ever tasted in their little lives. then, taking two of the red handkerchiefs (a supply of which i generally carried about to offer as presents), i wrapped the babies up in them, laid them down on the rock again, and moved on some distance. looking back, i saw a human being, evidently the mother, creeping down the rocks. then, joyfully seizing her little ones, whom she thought perhaps she had lost for ever, she fondled them most lovingly. she had got back her naked treasures clothed in lovely garments, and licking their little black lips all sticky with their feast of sugar. after a three days' march we reached murtafal; and from here i sent the fasher troops back to their station, whilst we continued on to dara. but before leaving, i had all the women whom we had picked up on the march to carry corn, collected together, and then set them free. i told them that next time i hoped their husbands would be more submissive, and in that case wives, husbands, and children need never be separated. a shriek of joy, a mutter of gratitude, and they were off like gazelles released from a cage. i had now been away from dara about three weeks, and had heard no news whatever. at the noon halt, the following day, my men brought before me some of the beni mansur tribe, who told me that sultan harun had attacked dara, and, on being repulsed, had turned to manawashi, which was about a day's march from where we were. they told me he had looted the place, and also burnt the village of tanera, which belonged to sheikh maki el mansuri, and was about six hours' march from us. this sheikh, whom i knew well, had lost everything, they said, and had barely escaped with his life. telling my informants to lose no time in bringing sheikh mansuri to me, i marched on at once towards manawashi, and by the evening we had made good progress. i now ordered the halt for the night, and soon afterwards the sheikh arrived, in a very destitute condition. he had lost all his property, and had nothing left but the clothes in which he stood; and they were torn to shreds by thorns during his flight. seating himself, he briefly related what had occurred. sultan harun, it appeared, on quitting niurnia, had collected a considerable force, and had descended to the plains in the direction of abu haraz. here he had a collision with the kulkul troops, who had suffered slight loss, and had retired on kebkebia; and that was the reason they had failed to come up to the rendezvous at niurnia. harun had advanced immediately on dara, and the news of his approach had only reached the garrison two hours before he had made his night attack on the town, in which many of the inhabitants, including khater, a brother of vizir ahmed shata, had been killed, and several women captured. eventually driven out, he had retired to manawashi, which he had partially destroyed; and detaching some of his men to tanera, they had burnt the village and taken almost all the women. the unfortunate sheikh maki had been wounded in the leg, and had only escaped death by a miracle. it appeared that harun was now in a position about four hours' march from me in a westerly direction, and was being followed up by ahmed katong and gabralla, who, when harun had passed through the beni helba country, had not been sufficiently strong to attack him, but were now doing their best to keep in touch with him, and send news of his movements to dara and fasher. i at once despatched messengers with instructions to them to join me during the night, and to send spies to ascertain exactly where harun was encamped. at dawn the following morning, katong and gabralla arrived, with about a hundred bazingers. they reported that harun had struck his camp, and was marching west with his entire force. a woman they brought with them, and who belonged to sheikh maki's village, also stated that harun had collected all the women he had captured at dara and manawashi, and had addressed them as follows: "i was not told that the unbeliever slatin had liberated the women he had captured; but as i am a believer and the sultan, it is not fitting that i should keep you captive; you are therefore free; but my blood relatives i will keep with me, for i am the head of the family, and, therefore, their master." the woman also stated that amongst those harun had captured at dara were some of the princesses of the royal house of darfur, as well as sheikh maki's wife, who belonged to the late sultan's family. this sad news greatly distressed poor sheikh maki, whose cup of sorrow was indeed full to overflowing. i now made preparations to march off at once in pursuit of harun; but my little expedition into jebel marra had considerably reduced my numbers. the cold had been fatal to many of the blacks, and i remarked that those who were accustomed to eat meat and drink marissa stood the cold and hardships well; whilst those whose duties lay chiefly in tax-gathering amongst the nomad arabs, and who consequently existed principally on milk, succumbed in large numbers. including katong's and gabralla's reinforcements, my little detachment consisted only of a hundred and seventy-five regulars and a hundred and forty bazingers. the horses had all been lamed by the rough ground, except the gray which i rode. i had sent messengers to dara to say that i was on my way back, and had arrived near manawashi, where i wished the chiefs of the beni helba and messeria arabs to meet me, with their men; and starting off at a rapid pace, after a few hours' march, we reached the camp sultan harun had just quitted. it was completely deserted, and we made out from the tracks that the force had moved off at least nine or ten hours before; and, following them up, we found ourselves marching in a northwesterly direction towards el fasher. from the tracks, we gathered that harun's force numbered about four hundred rifles, some hundreds of sword and spear men, and about sixty horsemen. with so few, it would be impossible for him to attack fasher. what, therefore, could be his intentions? by sunset the troops were thoroughly exhausted, and darkness forced us to halt. besides, there was no moon, and we could no longer make out the tracks. at the first streak of dawn, however, we continued our advance, and, to encourage the men, i walked the whole way. they had suffered considerably in jebel marra, and were thoroughly tired out; and had there been time, i would have relieved them by fresh troops from dara. but there was not a moment to be lost; so we pushed on as best we could, making short halts every now and then. we had had no time to take in provisions, and, indeed, most of the corn in the villages had already been seized by harun. my men were, therefore, getting famished; and when we reached jebel abu haraz (about two days' march from el fasher), i promised them that if we did not come up with the enemy on the following day, steps would then be taken to procure provisions at any cost. at sunrise the next morning we reached the abu haraz wells, which we found deserted. we had had no water since the previous day; so we were obliged to halt for a short time, and we found a woman who had concealed herself, thinking we were the enemy. she reported that, the previous day, harun had attacked hillet omar, the village of the sultan of the massabat (about four hours' march further on), which he had plundered, and killed a number of the inhabitants; but that she and other survivors had hidden in the forest, and so had escaped detection. harun, she said, had moved on that morning, and could not be far off. she therefore offered to lead us along his tracks, which we had been obliged to leave the previous evening, owing to want of water. the news that before long we should come up with the enemy was hailed with delight, and, with the woman as our guide, we hurried forward, and were soon on their quite fresh tracks. inspired with the prospect of a successful action, a speedy return to their wives and families, and a long rest, my men now moved on very cheerfully and at a good pace. our direction lay nearly due east, and about an hour before noon we came in sight of two small hills. just then, some of katong's and gabralla's men, who were scouting out in front, brought in a wounded man, who stated that he had been taken prisoner at hillet omar, and had just escaped, having seen our red flag a long way off and knowing that he would be safe. sultan harun, he said, was halted a short distance beyond the small hills at rahad en nabak. we now increased the pace, and, galloping forward, i could see from the hills the position of the enemy. they were encamped on a grassy slope about two thousand five hundred yards away, and through my glass i could see the horses being saddled up, and much commotion, as if the camp were about to move on. there was not a moment to be lost. taking, therefore, a hundred and thirty regulars with me, i pushed straight on, my left flank being covered, at a distance of about half a mile, by forty-five regulars and forty bazingers under wad el abbas, while katong and gabralla were ordered to remain as a reserve, concealed behind the rising ground. the enemy had now discovered us. i therefore advanced at the double between the two hills, wad el abbas circling round the hill on the left; and once through, we deployed for attack. half a mile further on, we came under a heavy rifle-fire; and my gray horse, which had only just recovered from his wound, got restive, and neither spurs nor whip were of any avail to make him move on. i therefore jumped off, and we continued advancing till within six hundred yards of harun's line, when we halted and fired a volley. then, ordering wad el abbas to double forward and wheel up to the right, we caught the enemy between a cross fire, under which they were soon forced to retire. i now lost no time in sending orders to the reserve to make a flank attack on the retreating enemy, which had the effect of turning harun's retirement into a headlong flight, in which the sultan's horse was shot dead under him, and he himself only just eluded us. if we had had cavalry, none could have escaped. as it was, our men pursued till nightfall, and inflicted great loss on the enemy. we halted that night at the abu haraz well, and collected our spoil, which consisted of a hundred and sixty rifles, four large copper war-drums, four flags, and two horses, the riders of which had both been killed. our losses consisted of fourteen killed and twenty wounded. the women captured by harun were all saved, and returned to their husbands. amongst our wounded was babakr, the chief of katong's bazingers, who had personally attacked harun, and was on the point of taking him prisoner, when he was shot by one of the sultan's guard. some of the prisoners informed me that it had been harun's intention to ally himself with the mima arabs, who had agreed to revolt against the government as soon as he could come to them; but he was now, after this defeat, forced to retire once more to jebel marra, whilst i and my exhausted troops marched back to dara. on our way, we came across some four hundred beni helba and messeria horsemen, who had come to join us, but were unfortunately too late for the fight. at dara, i found everything in the greatest confusion. when the enemy had attacked, the principal merchants, terrified of their lives, had fled to the fort, leaving their property at the mercy of harun's men. the fort was still crowded with these people, who did not dare to return to their houses until the result of the fight between harun and myself was known. my appearance on the scene was, therefore, the signal for general rejoicing, and the refugees now all returned to their own homes. meanwhile, sultan harun, who had recovered his defeat, again collected a force, and proceeded to dar gimmer, in the kulkul district; and here he made a raid on the arabs, captured their cattle and camels, and killed some merchants. on the news reaching nur bey angara, the governor of the district, he advanced rapidly, covering the usual two days' march in twenty-six hours, and, early the following morning, he surprised sultan harun in his camp. in great haste, harun's horse was saddled, but in mounting the stirrup-leather broke. another horse was brought, and just as he was about to put his foot into the stirrup, a bullet hit him full in the chest, and he fell dead (march, ). his fall was the signal for a wild flight, and nur angara took possession of his camp without any further difficulty. sultan harun's head was cut off and sent to el fasher, and there was general rejoicing at his death. the few adherents, however, who had fled, now collected in jebel marra, and selected as their ruler abdullahi dudbenga, the son of harun's uncle abakir; but henceforth their raids became insignificant, and peace was once more restored to the country. three days after my return to dara, i received a letter from gessi pasha, in bahr el ghazal, informing me that dr. r. w. felkin and the rev. c. t. wilson, of the english church missionary society, were on their way from uganda to khartum, _via_ dara, and with them were some waganda envoys sent by king mtesa to her majesty the queen of england. gessi begged me to give them all help on their journey, and said that they were leaving for dara on the date he was writing. i calculated, therefore, they would arrive in a few days, so i despatched mounted messengers to the mamur and sheikh of kalaka, directing him to have the necessary food and provisions ready for them on their arrival, and to send them, with a strong escort, to dara. it was not until fourteen days after the receipt of gessi's letter that news reached me they had passed kalaka, and were not far from dara. at the head of about forty horsemen i started off to welcome them, and met them, after a ride of two hours, in a small wood. our meeting took place under a large tree, and the two travellers seemed to me to be very tired after their long journey. i had brought some breakfast with me, and, laying our rugs on the ground, we sat down and had a good meal. they had heard in the southern kalaka district that i had gone off to fight sultan harun; and as the roads were considered unsafe, they had not ventured to come on, and that was the cause of the delay. dr. felkin, who had studied in jena, spoke german well; but i had great difficulty in making myself intelligible in my broken english to the rev. mr. wilson. after breakfast we rode on to dara, where the garrison had turned out to welcome them. i then led them to the house prepared for their reception, where zogal, the commandant, the kadi and chief merchant, came to pay their respects; and after the usual lemonade and talk, i told them that my guests were greatly in need of rest, on which they withdrew. having ascertained, through an interpreter, that mtesa's envoys were fond of meat, i gave them a fattened ox, which they killed themselves, skinned, and then roasted on a wood fire; and with several draughts of marissa, to which beverage they had been introduced by an old _habitué_, they appeared to have had a thoroughly enjoyable feast. indeed, so much did they relish this native drink that i was obliged to commission zogal bey to supply them daily with a considerable quantity. meanwhile our dinner-party consisted of the two travellers, zogal and rifki, and, as usual, we dined off roasted mutton; after dinner i gave our two native friends a hint to retire, and then dr. felkin and the rev. mr. wilson began to relate their experiences in uganda, as well as amongst the various tribes through which they had passed. i was immensely interested in all they told me, and could not help wishing i were at the great lakes instead of in darfur. outside, the singing and beating of drums was getting louder and more boisterous, and from curiosity we went out to look on. the company was a very cheerful one: men and women shouting and dancing round a big fire, on which huge pieces of meat were roasting, whilst close by stood the half-empty pitchers of beer. we remained till late talking over our travels and the future of these countries. all they told me was of immense interest, and i, too, was able to give them the latest information from europe, which, though months old, was news to them. at length, towards midnight we turned in, having come to the mutual conclusion that in the sudan, as well as in europe, matters seemed very unsettled. next morning we were up early, and had a two hours' ride, in which i showed my guests the surroundings of dara, which were far from interesting; and on our return was told, much to my amusement, that the sight of a camel had caused mtesa's envoys such alarm that they had fled. "well," said i to dr. felkin, "as you have to make the rest of your journey on camel-back, it is advisable your men should get into the way of it; so if you will get them together i will send for a camel and put their courage to the test." he went off, and i sent for a camel belonging to one of the merchants, which was very big and fat. by this time the envoys and others had arrived and the camel, appearing suddenly round a corner, caused almost a stampede. it was only the sight of the unconcern of dr. felkin and myself which kept them from bolting as hard as their legs could carry them. dr. felkin explained to them that the camel was a most patient and docile animal, on which they would have to make the remainder of their journey to egypt, and that there was no cause for fear; still, they kept a respectful distance from the alarming beast, and when i told my kavass to mount and make it get up and sit down, their astonishment was boundless. at length one, more courageous than the rest, volunteered to mount; timorously approaching the animal, he was assisted into the saddle, and, having safely got through the operation of rising, with a beaming countenance he surveyed his friends from his lofty seat, and proceeded to make a speech to them on the pleasures of camel-riding. apparently he had invited them to share these pleasures with him, for suddenly, without a moment's warning, they rushed at the poor animal in a body, and began swarming up it. some tried to mount by the neck, others by the tail, and half a dozen or so clung to the saddle trappings. for a moment the camel seemed stupefied by this sudden attack; but, recovering its presence of mind, it now lashed out in all directions, and in a moment had freed itself completely from every unfortunate waganda who had been bold enough to approach it. i do not think i ever laughed so much in my life. these people evidently took the poor animal for a mountain; but the shocks they experienced when the mountain began to heave so terrified them that for long they would not come near it. however, first one and then another summoned up courage to mount, and by the time they left dara they were all fairly proficient in the art of camel-riding. i had in my household several young boys who had been taken from the slave-traders; and as dr. felkin had no servant to attend on him personally, i suggested he should take one of them. he accepted the offer gladly; so i handed over to him a bright little fertit boy called kapsun, whom he agreed to bring up in europe. two years and a half later, i received at el fasher a letter written in english by little kapsun, thanking me for allowing him to go with dr. felkin "to a country where every one was so good and so kind," and saying that he had adopted the christian religion, and was "the happiest boy in the world;" he also sent me his photograph in european clothes. the time for the departure of my two friends came all too soon for me; but they were anxious to get on, and, mounted on their camels, they left for khartum _via_ toweisha. some time later i received a letter from messedaglia telling me that he was leaving for khartum to fetch his wife. no sooner had he reached that place than he got into some difficulty with the authorities and was discharged, and his place as governor-general of darfur was taken by ali bey sherif, formerly governor-general of kordofan. it was about the close of or early in that i received a letter from general gordon, written in french some two months previously from near debra tabor, in abyssinia. although this letter was destroyed many years ago, i can remember almost the exact words, which were as follows:-- dear slatin,--having finished my mission to king john, i wanted to return the same way that i came; but when near gallabat i was overtaken by some of ras adal's people, who forced me to go back, and i am to be taken under escort to kassala and thence to massawa. i have burnt all the compromising documents. king john will be disappointed when he finds he is not master of his own house. your friend, c. gordon. chapter iii. the government of darfur. government administration in dara--my difficulties with the gellabas--manners and customs of the arabs--arrival at shakka--madibbo bey sheikh of the rizighat--my visit to khartum--arrival of gessi in khartum--i return west with bishop comboni and father ohrwalder--am appointed governor-general of darfur--hostilities between the maheria and bedeyat arabs--i proceed to the bedeyat country--strange manners and customs of the bedeyat--saleh donkusa and the heglik tree--the ceremony of taking the oath of fidelity--return to el fasher--troubles at shakka and death of emiliani--i leave for dara. i now busied myself with the administrative affairs of the province of dara. the returns which i had called for, showing the names and numbers of villages, their population, etc., were duly submitted to me, and i now resolved to travel over the entire district and personally inquire into the state of affairs. there is very little money in cash in darfur. the northern arab tribes who act as camel-men, and who supply transport for the great caravan road between assiut and darfur, have a small amount of gold and silver coin; but in all other parts of the province payments are made principally in "takia," a sort of native-made cotton fabric, or in european gray cotton cloth, cut in various lengths; but it can be readily understood that such material, continually passing from hand to hand, greatly loses in value, and eventually will not even pass for its cost price. taxes were always paid in kind, such as corn, honey, camels, cows, sheep, and native-made cloth, and a certain fixed tariff being arranged, it became a simple matter to assess the taxation in egyptian piastres. there were always merchants ready to purchase the various products and animals for which payment was generally made to government in corn, and in this latter commodity the salaries were paid to officers, soldiers, and officials. as the price of corn varied, it happened as often as not that the cash value of the salaries was in excess; but on the whole i think the system was not an unfair one. my first tour of inspection took me to toweisha and dar el khawabir, and back to dara _via_ shieria. i then went to shakka, _via_ kershu, and everywhere i assessed the exact amounts to be paid by all sheikhs and chiefs. at shakka, kalaka, and in dar beni helba, by personal inspection and by inquiry, i did all i could to find out what the arab tribes really possessed; and at the same time i was anxious to collect the bazingers who had formed part of suleiman zubeir's army, but who were now scattered amongst the rizighat, habbania, and taaisha arabs. i therefore issued orders to all sheikhs, both great and small, to hand over the bazingers to me; and though it was of course impossible to collect all, i nevertheless succeeded in getting some four hundred men capable of bearing arms, and these i at once sent under escort to khartum. i was anxious also to increase the number of troops in my own district; but i hesitated somewhat to introduce into the ranks these bazingers, who, accustomed to a life of liberty and freedom, might have a bad effect on the discipline of the men; and i also knew that if kept under very strict control they would be likely to desert, and, with their knowledge of the country and people, might prove an eventual source of danger. on my return to dara i learnt that general gordon had left abyssinia, had resigned his appointment as governor-general, and had been succeeded by rauf pasha, who was so well known in connection with sir samuel baker's work in the sudan. the gellabas and merchants whom gordon had turned out of kalaka and shakka at the time of suleiman zubeir's revolt, now seized this opportunity to proceed to khartum, and, relying on the ignorance of the new governor-general of the real state of affairs, they submitted petitions to the effect that the arabs had plundered them of their wives, children, and property, and that they now sought the protection of the government. rauf pasha forwarded these petitions to me, with a covering letter to the effect that i was to deal justly with these people, restore to them their property, and do what i could to unite them with their families. hundreds of gellabas now came to dara and submitted petitions of every description, enumerating, with the grossest exaggeration, the various articles for which they claimed compensation. i went to the trouble of having all these claims totalled up in one list,--ivory, ostrich feathers, gold and silver ornaments, etc., etc.; and i found that if all the property at present in the hands of the arab tribes were confiscated and sold, it would not nearly cover the claims of the gellabas. i was obliged, however, to comply with my orders from khartum; i therefore summoned the sheikhs of the various arab tribes to dara, and informed them of the claims of the merchants against them. naturally they at once denied having taken anything whatever from them, and they told me privately that if government persisted in the payment of these claims, there would be no other course open to them than to emigrate to wadai and bornu. some of them, however, agreed that if permitted they would endeavour to come to a mutual understanding with the merchants as regards the restoration of their wives and children; but they absolutely declined to do this if government interfered. these latter were about twenty in number; all the others, who had been turned out by general gordon's orders, and who now amounted to some hundreds, i ordered back to khartum, as it was quite impossible to come to any sort of arrangement which would satisfy them and the arabs. i reported fully the steps i had taken to rauf pasha, and urged him to pay no further heed to these claims. soon after this, several of the habbania sheikhs came and informed me that the gellabas whom i had ordered back to khartum had--instead of going there--proceeded to kalaka, where they had concluded a private arrangement with ali wad fadlalla, the official tax-gatherer and a relative of zogal bey, to ignore my orders and, through his assistance, to force the arabs to return the property, on condition that they (the gellabas) and fadlalla should share the proceeds between them. as for various other reasons i wished to again inspect the southern districts, i took the sheikhs with me and set off for kalaka, travelling _via_ nimr and deain, where madibbo bey, head-sheikh of the rizighat, resided. here i promised madibbo that on my way back i would endeavour to effect a reconciliation between him and egeil wad el jangawi, with whom he was in continual dispute. two days later, accompanied by forty horsemen, i reached dawila, which is almost in the centre of the kalaka district, and surprised my friend fadlalla, who was quite ignorant of my approach. questioned before the sheikhs, he could not deny that he had given orders for some of the property taken from the gellabas to be returned to them; without delay i ordered the arab sheikhs to bring before me all gellabas in the district who had not special permits to trade, and in a few days one hundred and twenty-four of them were collected, and i found them to be the actual men whom i had ordered to khartum. when i asked them why they had disobeyed orders, they told me frankly that they had no intention of returning as poor men to their own country. i then told them to explain how, having no capital whatever, they proposed to enrich themselves,--especially as i had given orders that their claims, which were in the majority of cases utterly false, were not to be considered; and to my repeated questions they refused to give any answer. i therefore gave instructions to fadlalla's assistant to take all the gellabas as prisoners, under an escort of fifteen soldiers, to hassan agha, the mamur of shakka, to whom i gave orders to send them to el obeid; and fadlalla himself i placed under arrest, and gave instructions that he should be taken with me to dara, to be tried for disobedience of orders. several of the merchants who were living with the arabs came and thanked me for having helped them, saying the arabs had voluntarily returned to them their concubines, children, and some of their property, and that they were living in peace and harmony with the natives of the country. i now appointed another mamur in place of fadlalla, and, according to my promise, returned to madibbo, who was expecting me. as we were riding through the woods in the early morning we passed a place which smelt very strongly of the civet cat; and in reply to my question as to whether such animals were to be found there, the habbania sheikh replied, "yes; but you surely do not want one, it will poison your whole house." "poison?" said i, in a tone of feigned surprise, for i well knew that the arabs detest the civet cat. "yes," said he, "the civet of this cat has such a strong smell that you cannot get rid of it;" and he held his nose as we passed through the wood. i answered, "well, now, in my opinion sulphur has a much more disagreeable smell than civet." "on the contrary," he replied, "sulphur is one of the choice perfumes of the country; we are used to it, and we enjoy it."--"perhaps you are right," said i; "i have seen how mothers of the southern tribes mix together sulphur and fat and smear the bodies of their new-born children, as well as their own breasts, with it. why should i wonder that you, who have lain on your mother's lap, drunk her milk, and gazed lovingly into her eyes, should think the sulphur smell pleasant? you have been bred and brought up in it, and so it happens that habit makes us used to everything." the manners and customs of these wild arabs always interested me, and the journey passed quickly enough in chatting with my companions. we frequently passed settlements of nomad arabs, who always insisted on our partaking of their hospitality. the post which caught me up on the way brought me instructions from the governor-general that dar janghé, which up till recently had formed part of the province of dara, was in future to be attached to bahr el ghazal, to which it really belonged. this new arrangement appeared to me to be a very satisfactory one, as the janghé tribe were cattle-owners, and i had already a surplus of cattle tribute from the numerous baggara tribes in darfur, and was not at all desirous of adding to this stock, which fetched an exceptionally low price in the market. on the other hand, gessi was delighted, for the janghé were the only cattle-owners in his district, and the payment of taxes in kind suited his requirements, as it supplied meat for his troops. after four days' march we reached shakka, and halted at the station of abu segan, in which there was a small fort or enclosure surrounding a few mud-huts and tukuls, which served as quarters for the small garrison of between thirty and forty men and the mamur. surrounding the fort, but at some distance from it, were the huts of the merchants who had immigrated from darfur, and who practically formed the entire population. it was a well-known market for the district, the principal days being friday and monday, when numbers of arabs came in to make their purchases. i found madibbo bey here at the head of several hundred horsemen, and he informed me that egeil wad el jangawi had gone to khartum a month ago to make an official complaint about his discharge from the sheikhdom. i therefore pushed on to dara, and a few days after my return received a letter from marcopoli bey, rauf pasha's secretary, to the effect that egeil had arrived in khartum and had lodged a complaint against madibbo bey, whom he characterised as in league with me, and through whose intrigues he had been deprived of the office of sheikh, and had even been threatened with death. the letter went on to say that every effort had been made to induce egeil to return to dara with a letter of recommendation to me, but he had refused to come, as he was convinced i was in madibbo's hands. in order, therefore, to get rid of the man, the case had been handed over to ali bey sherif, acting mudir of el fasher, who had been instructed to settle it. in reply, i wrote that i had repeatedly written to egeil ordering him to come to me, but that he had persistently refused, and that in consequence i must decline to employ any man as sheikh in my district who had objected to coming to see me when ordered to do so; and i added that as i had been suffering considerably from fever, and besides had several matters to place before the governor-general regarding the administration of the country, i requested permission to come to khartum. a few days later ali bey sherif wrote from el fasher that, having been charged to inquire into the egeil matter, and being unable at present to come to dara and examine into the case on the spot, he had in consequence delegated the shaigia sanjak, omar wad darho, to represent him. about a month after i had written for leave to go to khartum, i received a reply approving, and two days before i started, omar wad darho arrived, with an escort of one hundred horsemen. it was quite clear to me that as the country was perfectly tranquil, he had brought these men simply to plunder. he assured me that it was his intention to act in the matter under consideration entirely in accordance with my wishes; but i did not hesitate to tell him that it was his duty to inquire most carefully into the whole of the facts of the case, and to act justly in the interests of the government. at the same time he should not ignore the interests and wishes of the tribe in selecting as sheikh a man whom the tribe would accept, and who would at the same time have sufficient power to uphold the government authority. i then appointed zogal bey as my representative, and ordered him not to interfere in the conduct of the case, and to report the matter fully to khartum. i left dara at the end of january, , and, marching _via_ toweisha and dar homr, i reached el obeid in nine days, and proceeded at once to the mudiria to pay my respects to mohammed pasha said, the governor. he gave me a very kind reception, and asked me to be his guest; but as i had previously known ahmed bey dafalla, who had a horse ready to take me to the quarters he had specially prepared for me, i thanked the governor and proceeded to dafalla's house, which was close to the gate. here i found everything most comfortable. i was ushered into a large room hung with richly embroidered curtains, whilst laid out on two tables were all sorts of pleasant drinks and eatables, cigars, cigarettes, etc.; in fact, i could see that my host had done everything that was possible to make my stay pleasant. mohammed pasha said now came to return my call, and invited us both to dinner; and after he had gone i had visits from all the notables of the town. that evening at dinner he told me that he was coming to see me the following morning on official business. he duly arrived the next day, and, seeing my three black boys at the door, his first question was, "are these boys free, or slaves?" i at once replied "free," and that they were in my service of their own free will and accord; they then showed him their manumission papers, which they kept in little brass boxes. the pasha now turned to me and said, "my friend, you are a more careful man than i. i only wanted to take a rise out of you; but unfortunately you have turned the tables on me." this little episode brought us into a discussion on the slave question, and i remarked that in general terms i agreed with him that from the standpoint of morality no doubt the abolition of slavery was by all means to be recommended, but that in actually bringing these measures into effect we should do so with the greatest circumspection, and should not hurry matters, otherwise we should deprive the country of its means of obtaining labour, and we should also place the slave-owners in great difficulties by any sudden enforcement of the law. gradual and resolute action was what was required. mohammed pasha said quite concurred in these views, pointing out that everything should be done to improve the relations between the natives and the egyptians and turks, by whom they were governed, but that the sudden abolition of a system which had been a national custom from remotest times would most certainly lead to estrangement and difficulties. i did not make a long stay in el obeid, and the following morning i started off on camels, accompanied by two maalia sheikhs who had caught me up on the road from darfur. i had already telegraphed to dr. zurbuchen to get a room ready for me, and said pasha had officially reported my departure. on the third day after leaving el obeid we passed the station of abu garad, where i found a telegram from zurbuchen begging me to be his guest; and the following day we crossed the nile at tura el hadra at the spot where i had said good-bye to gordon, and whose last words i remembered had been verified,--"i shall perhaps go to europe." the camel i was riding was a young one which ahmed dey dafalla had bought for me, and they had forgotten to tell me that he should be ridden with both halter and nose-rein; consequently when we set off in the dark and i found he would not go on, i drove him, with the result that he set off at a gallop, and no amount of tugging at the nose-ring had the smallest effect in stopping him. he ran out of the track straight for some trees, and in an instant one of the branches, striking me in the chest, hurled me to the ground some yards away. i fell on my back with such a thump that it seemed to me as if two pillars of fire had shot out of my eyes up to the heavens, and for a few minutes i lost consciousness; but my kavass, who had rushed after me, picked me up, pulled at my joints, and turned my neck about, and in ten minutes i had come to and was able to mount the camel, which, when i had fallen, had patiently stood beside me. we rode till midnight; but the pain in my chest and spitting of blood obliged me to halt; after a few hours, however, i was able to move on again, and at length, bruised and sore, we reached khartum seven days after leaving el obeid. here i found zurbuchen, who welcomed me heartily, and carried me off as his guest to a house near the roman catholic mission, which had belonged to the late latif debono, a maltese and a well-known slave-dealer. the governor-general had sent his kavass to meet me with a message that i was to call on him during the afternoon; after a short rest, therefore, i presented myself at the palace, where i was well received by rauf pasha and his secretary, marcopoli bey, whom i had known before as gordon's interpreter. i soon noticed that rauf pasha's cordiality had somewhat cooled down; and to my utter astonishment he announced that the leave of absence for which i had asked, in order to proceed to cairo, had been granted me, and that riaz pasha had just telegraphed to that effect. "but," said i, "i never wrote to cairo for leave of absence." "then what does this telegram mean?" said he. "i think that you, as a soldier, should have known better than to have acted in this irregular manner. you should have applied for your leave through me, and not direct to cairo; and now you say you never asked for any!" marcopoli then read out the telegram, which ran as follows: "to the governor-general of the sudan: three months leave on full pay has been granted to r. slatin, mudir of western darfur." i was at a complete loss to understand what had occurred, and all i could do was to repeat that i had not asked for leave. i could see perfectly well that rauf pasha felt insulted at my apparent disregard for his position, and in this i fully sympathised with him. the next day, however, light was thrown on the matter. some time previously i had written home saying that i had been suffering lately from fever, and my dear mother, who is now dead, in her loving concern for her absent son, at once thought that i was concealing from her some terrible malady; she had, therefore, written to the authorities in egypt, urging that i should be recalled to cairo for medical treatment, and she was thus the innocent cause of this estrangement between rauf pasha and myself. the matter explained, the governor-general at once apologised for having wrongfully accused me of irregularity, and was touched by my dear mother's love for me, saying that such affection can alone be returned by the deepest love and obedience on the part of the children. "i myself," said he, "love my mother with all my heart; though she is only a poor abyssinian, and formerly a slave. at all times i am ready to ask her advice, and follow it in all matters relating to the family and home." since this conversation i have often had occasion to notice the genuine love and affection which exists between parents and children of this race. during my stay in khartum i had frequent talks with rauf pasha on the state of my province, and i suggested that a more just and lenient form of taxation should be introduced in the fasher and kebkebia districts. i also asked him to allow me to order the arab tribes to supply annually a certain number of young slaves, who should form a contingent from which the vacancies caused by sickness, deaths, and other casualties amongst the troops could be filled up; and i further proposed that the arabs should be allowed to pay their tribute in slaves instead of cattle, as by this means i hoped to win back suleiman zubeir's bazingers, who were scattered amongst the tribes, and whose knowledge of the use of fire-arms was, in my opinion, a continual source of danger to the government. rauf pasha concurred in all these suggestions, and gave me written orders to this effect. when i arrived in khartum, a certain darfuri named hassan wad saad en nur, whose father had been killed with vizir ahmed shata in shakka, came to me, and begged me to intercede for him to be permitted to return to his country; meeting rauf pasha shortly afterwards, i begged him to allow this, and he gave instructions for his discharge to be at once made out. a few days later, however, he sent for me and explained that after further inquiry he had decided to cancel nur's discharge. i explained that he had only acted like the rest during the revolt, and that now it was not possible for him to do any further harm. rauf pasha, however, remained resolute, and i, feeling annoyed, retorted that as i had given nur my word that he should return with me, it remained for rauf pasha to decide whether he would let him go or whether he would discharge me, and, bidding him good-bye, i marched off. two days later he again sent for me, and said that i was wrong in having given nur my word so quickly. i fully admitted the justice of this censure, and to my surprise he then said that he had reconsidered the matter, and had decided to let nur go; and as regards myself he thought me a stubborn but capable official, and had in consequence requested his highness the khedive, mohammed tewfik pasha, to appoint me governor-general of darfur, with the title of bey. i thanked him for his kind words, and assured him that i should do my utmost to justify his confidence in me. rauf pasha now asked me to state in writing that i would be responsible for the future good behaviour of nur; and this i did gladly, feeling convinced that after all my trouble on his behalf the man would prove loyal and faithful. on returning to my house i sent for nur, who had spent two days of suspense, dreading that his discharge would be refused; and when i told him the good news, he fell at my feet and poured out his gratitude in the most voluble terms. i felt that he was a man of honour, and that i could trust him: little did i know that i had taken a snake into my bosom. my short stay in khartum passed rapidly in the company of my many friends. bishop comboni and fathers ohrwalder and dichtl had arrived from cairo towards the end of january, , as well as hassan pasha, the chief of the financial department, busati bey, consul hansal, and others. ohrwalder and dichtl put up in my quarters; and many a long talk used we to have over our own beloved country. on th january, , gessi arrived at khartum very seriously ill. during his journey from meshra er rek he had been hemmed in by the "suds," or barriers of floating vegetation through which travellers must at times cut their way with axes. for three months and more he had struggled hopelessly to make his way through them, and the terrible sufferings undergone by him and his men through famine and sickness are almost indescribable. he lost the majority of his men and crew, and acts of cannibalism were of daily occurrence. he was at length rescued by marno in the steamer "bordein," and brought to khartum, where he was most carefully tended by the mission sisters; but the shock to his system had been so great that he could not recover his strength, despite every effort made by dr. zurbuchen. it was at length decided to try and send him to egypt, and we made all arrangements to make his journey as comfortable as possible. he was particularly anxious to take with him his servant almas, who happened to be a eunuch; but rauf pasha, fearing that it might create a scandal, and that strictures might be passed on his government of the sudan, for a long time refused permission for him to go. yielding, however, to the persistence of zurbuchen and myself, he at length authorised it, and on th march we carried poor gessi in a sort of litter to the governor's dahabia, in which he was towed to berber, thence he was carried across to suakin, where he arrived on th april, and, embarking a fortnight later, reached suez on th, too weak almost to move. he was taken to the french hospital, where he expired two days later. meanwhile matters in darfur had not been progressing very satisfactorily. zogal bey wrote that omar wad darho had been conducting himself very badly at shakka, and i showed the report to rauf pasha, who telegraphed that he was to return at once to el fasher. having now thoroughly recovered, i decided to return and take up my new duties as soon as possible. rauf pasha placed a steamer at my disposal, and, accompanied by bishop comboni and father ohrwalder, whom i promised to mount on my camels as far as el obeid, we quitted khartum on th march. consul hansal, marcopoli bey, zurbuchen, and marquet travelled with us in the steamer as far as tura el hadra, and here we bade them good-bye. little did i think that one only of that company should i ever meet again, and under what strange circumstances i was once more to return to the capital of the sudan. i was very young, the heavy responsibilities of my new and important position occupied all my thoughts, and i was full of high hopes for the future; but fate had a strange and terrible destiny in store for me. after five days' march we reached el obeid, and from here the bishop made a tour through jebel nuba, while father ohrwalder remained at el obeid, and was eventually sent to the mission station of delen, in southern kordofan. i stayed in el obeid a few days only, and, having received telegraphic orders to proceed to foga, i bid my two friends farewell. one of them--the good bishop--i was destined never to see again; he died in khartum on th october, . the other,--my dear friend ohrwalder,--like myself, was soon to go through many strange and horrible experiences before we were again to meet as fellow-captives of the as yet unknown mahdi, who was shortly to overthrow every vestige of government authority in the sudan. two days later i quitted el obeid, and, travelling _via_ abu haraz and shallota, reached foga, where i found a telegram from his highness the khedive, officially appointing me governor-general of darfur, and directing me to proceed forthwith to el fasher, to take over the duties from ali bey sherif. i had some urgent business to do in dara, and several private letters to attend to; but i thought it advisable to proceed at once to el fasher, where i arrived on th april. here i found much intriguing going on, from the mudir down to the lowest clerk in the office; the kadi and his employés were all at variance, and even the clerks of the law-courts had sued each other for contempt. several petitions had been filed against officials; there were all sorts of charges pending against false witnesses; cases regarding breaches of morality abounded; in fact, it would have required years to settle the mass of suits and petitions brought before me for decision. a few i managed to settle, but i regret to say that i had to leave the greater number pending. the most important case was that against nur angara, his sanjak, and the kulkul officials, who, with their complainants, had all been summoned to el fasher, whence, after freely bribing the officials with money and slaves, they were sent back to kulkul without any decision having been given. there was a large box full of correspondence on this subject, most of which was not worth the paper it was written on; i therefore sent instructions to nur angara, his officials, and the complainants, who were all living at kulkul without work, to come to el fasher; and, pending his arrival, i endeavoured to establish some sort of order in regard to tributes, taxation, etc. several cases had also been filed against the late mudir, said bey guma,--who was at the same time commander of the troops,--but it was impossible to prove them; and as it was imperative that i should have an assistant, i reinstated him as mudir of el fasher. there was no doubt he was an intriguer; besides being excessively parsimonious, he was not liked by the officers, and was famed for his vocabulary of bad language; but at the same time he was a brave soldier in the field, and this quality,--especially amongst egyptians,--was excessively rare in these distant regions. i therefore re-employed him, on condition that he would amend his ways; and i frankly told him that if he gave me the slightest trouble i should discharge him, and pack him off to khartum. i knew this would be a terrible punishment; for, though an egyptian, he had become greatly attached to darfur. major hassan effendi rifki, commanding at dara, i transferred to the command of a battalion at el fasher, under ali bey sherif, as he was constantly drunk; but no sooner had he come under my observation than he appeared before me twice in a state of intoxication, and i was obliged to discharge him and send him to khartum. meanwhile, nur angara and the host of defendants and complainants duly arrived, and i very soon found out that the latter had been for the most part his friends, through whose help he had become mudir; but as he had abandoned them, they were anxious to revenge themselves by plotting against him. on the other hand, nur angara himself was a most resolute villain; without rhyme or reason, and often merely to satisfy his own brutal pleasure, he shed blood; and as for his views in regard to the property of his fellow creatures, they were beyond the conception of the most advanced social democrat in the world. as he was a bey, and held the rank of colonel, i ordered the proper salute to be fired when he entered the fort, gave him a hearty welcome, and ordered his attendants to be lodged in one of omar wad darho's houses, lying to the north of the town. he was a tall, beardless man, with a dark copper-coloured complexion, and the usual three slits on his cheeks; he had an energetic and wild look, but when talking he appeared to be a perfectly harmless individual. he was a dongolawi, and had been brought up by the shaigi, melek tumbal, who was formally a sanjak, and claimed descent from the shaigia kings. when quite a boy he had come to cairo, and, owing to his connection with zubeir and his son, he had acquired to some extent the good-will of the government. he had an old mother of about sixty years of age living in dongola, and in spite of his wild character she had the same affection and care for her son which rauf pasha's mother had for him. it is said that when gordon was in dongola, an old woman asked to see him, and on entering, said: "i am nur angara's mother, and have come to seek your help." "but," said gordon, "you have a good-for-nothing son, who passes his time in riotous living instead of looking after his old mother." "ah!" said the old woman, "may he be always happy! i forgive him, but i want you to help me." gordon presented her with £ from his own pocket, and she returned home heaping blessings on his head and on that of her undutiful son. after speaking some time to nur angara about his province, i referred quite casually to his great case, saying that i had had no time to examine carefully into the matter, and that when he and his traducers had rested sufficiently, i proposed sending them on to el obeid. the next day happened to be the first of ramadan, and all the people were fasting except nur angara, who did little else but drink araki and om bilbil, and listen to the music of antelope-horns and noggaras played by his attendants, and every now and then he ordered the big war-drum to be beaten. so irritated was i by this constant noise that i sent orders to him to stop it, telling him at the same time that it was a matter of no concern to me whether he fasted or not; but i declined to allow him--a moslem, and an egyptian official--to cause public annoyance, and i told him he had no right to disregard public opinion. "i shall comply with your orders," said he, "and stop my noisy amusements; but i never did care for ramadan, and never shall. i shall continue to drink as much as i like, and i don't care a brass farthing what people say or think of me." i could see that he was then under the influence of drink, so i ordered him to go to his house and prepare to leave. two days later he quitted el fasher for el obeid, and on arrival there was at once discharged from the government service. ali bey sherif also left when he had finally handed over the province to me, and i now proposed going on a tour of inspection through the entire country, with the administration of which i had been intrusted. just as i was making preparations to start, news arrived that a fight had occurred between the maheria and bedeyat arabs at bir el malha; and a few days afterwards hasaballa, the head-sheikh of the maheria, with many of the chiefs, arrived to represent the case. it appeared that the maheria arabs had gone, as usual, to the natron fields at bir el malha on the arbaïn road, ten days' march north of el fasher, to procure natron to sell in darfur; here they had been surprised and attacked by their deadly enemies, the bedeyat, who lived in the northeast portion of wadai, and who captured some fifteen hundred camels, and took upwards of one hundred and sixty men prisoners. these tribes had been at war with each other from remotest times, and men captured were generally ransomed at the rate of ten to fifteen camels a head. it was usually considered that the bedeyat belonged to darfur, though they never paid tribute; and that, i suppose, was the reason for the maheria sheikhs coming to me to ask for the forcible return of the captured men and camels. the road between assiut and darfur had been formerly much used by merchants, and large caravans used to pass along it; but it had been discovered that it was also used as a slave route, and several merchants had been caught in this traffic and had been exiled; consequently, the egyptian government had given orders for the road to be closed. from the first day i arrived in el fasher, i had heard nothing but complaints about the stoppage of trade along this road, and i had already represented to the government that this was the direct trade route with egypt, and would serve as an outlet for the ivory, feathers, skins, and tamarisk fruit with which the country abounded, instead of sending it in a roundabout way to khartum, and thence down the nile, involving the merchants in heavy transport expenses as well as long delays. government now approved of my reopening trade by this road, but held me responsible that no slaves should be sent along it. no sooner had i received this permission than i ordered a caravan to be prepared, and, under the guarantee and guidance of sheikh mohammed wad idris, some eight hundred camels started for egypt, and in less than seven weeks i received a telegram _via_ khartum announcing their safe arrival at assiut. as i was very anxious to inspect the northern and western frontiers of darfur, the complaint of the maheria afforded me a pretext for doing so, and for settling their affairs as well. i therefore ordered them to supply, without delay, one hundred and fifty baggage-camels, and one hundred "suga," or large water-skins made of bullock's hide; this they readily agreed to do, and we named the village of melek hagger (the chief of the zaghawa arabs), lying to the north of kebkebia, as the rendezvous. about the middle of december, , i left el fasher with two hundred infantry and some irregular shaigia cavalry, under omar wad darho. this individual, it will be remembered, had been sent by ali bey sherif to settle the madibbo-egeil differences, and having found on my return to darfur that he had acted unjustly, i had discharged him; but he had subsequently told me that he had been ordered by ali bey sherif to collect a considerable sum of money for him, and that, therefore, he could not act otherwise. i pardoned and reinstated him; moreover, most of the shaigia horsemen in el fasher were his relatives, and he was the only man who appeared to be able to exercise any degree of authority over them. the first night after leaving el fasher we camped near the migdob wells, about half way to kobbé; and when it was dark, i happened to stroll towards the wells, accompanied by one of my attendants. i was dressed in much the same way as the soldiers, and it was too dark for me to be recognised; i therefore came close to the well, and watched the women drawing water. some shaigia now came up to water their horses, and asked the women for their buckets, which they refused to give. "we shall first fill our jars," they said, "and then you can use the buckets." "your words are as a punishment sent from god," replied one of the shaigia; "this is the result of bringing liberty into the country. by allah! were it not so, and were not slatin with us, you and your vessels would very soon be our property." "god grant him a long life!" was the retort; and i strolled quietly away, thoroughly pleased to have heard with my own ears an admission from the mouths of sudanese that they were thankful to the europeans for having released them from the oppression and violence which had hitherto characterised the system of government in this country. at a. m. the next day we reached kobbé, the old trade capital of darfur, which was now inhabited principally by jaalin, whose fathers and grandfathers, immigrating from the nile valley, had intermarried with the local people. the mamur of this place was a certain emiliani dei danziger, of a venetian family of austrian origin. he had been given this position by gordon, and i now sent him to act as mudir of dara. the people seemed sorry to say good-bye to him; they said he was a good man, and when slaves and masters disagreed, and the former wanted to leave the latter, he had often been able, by quiet words, to effect a reconciliation. fortunately, i was not called upon to give any immediate decisions here on the slave question, and the following morning, leaving kobbé, we marched, _via_ sanied el kebir and bir el gidar, to kebkebia, where we arrived in two days. kebkebia is situated on a rocky plateau, and just at the edge of a deep khor. in the centre of the town was a square, loopholed enclosure about nine feet high, constructed of rough stones and mud, smeared with whitewash, in which were the huts of the officers and the small garrison. formerly the mudir and troops were quartered at kulkul, but had been transferred here about a year and a half before. the buildings had not been completed, and, in consequence, the houses of nur angara and the other officials were situated outside the enclosure. the khor contained some good gardens and some very high palm-trees, which gave the town a most picturesque appearance. after inspecting the garrison under major adam omar, i proceeded to my quarters in the fort; and scarcely had i arrived there when i heard a great noise and commotion, which i was told proceeded from the houses occupied by nur angara's women. the noise increased to such an extent that i sent for nur angara's brother idris, and asked him what was the cause. he began by making excuses, saying that it was only a little domestic dispute; but when i pressed him, he admitted that all these women knew that i had sent their lord and master to el obeid, and they wished to attract my attention. i now sent my chief clerk, ahmed effendi riad, the kadi of the mudiria, and idris to make a full inquiry, and report. they returned shortly, and stated that several of the women complained before idris of being kept by force in the house, and a few of them said that they had not the necessary means of living. i now sent the same deputation back again, and instructed the kadi to give the legal wives and their slave-girls injunctions to remain in the house and await their master's orders; and at the same time he was to legally nominate some one to look after them, while idris was ordered to deduct any expenses incurred in the maintenance of the family, from nur angara's pay. a list was then to be made of the remaining women, who were ordered to be sent to their relatives or tribes against receipts; and i further instructed the delegates to remain quite neutral, and force no one to leave the house who did not wish to do so, or who wished to stay until their master's return; i added that i would be responsible that such as wished to remain should be provided for. it is needless for me to add that women's affairs take quite as long a time to settle in the sudan as they do in europe; i was not, therefore, surprised that my delegates remained absent two hours, and in the lists which they brought back i found the names of no less than sixty young girls who pleaded for liberty. they had all been captured in the various campaigns, and their tribes were now the loyal subjects of the government. their detention by force was, therefore, quite illegal, and i ordered them to be at once sent back to their relatives. of the remaining thirty, some, owing to family matters, and others for various reasons, expressed a wish to remain, and i gave instructions for them to be supplied with the necessary means for living. as for idris, i told him that i held him responsible for his brother's household, and that he must either look after the women or release them. i also found the bazingers and their wives in this station very discontented, and i did what i could to place matters on a better footing. several of the neighbouring sheikhs came to see me here, amongst them hegam of the dar massalit, sultan idris of dar gimr, el mahi of dar jebel, and hamad tor jok of the beni hussein. i had a most interesting conversation with these men, especially with the massalit sheikh, who was constantly at war with the tribes on the wadai frontier. he told me it was their custom to go to battle with their wives and children, who always carried the om bilbil. "this drink," said he, "encourages one for the fight; and as for our wives and children, why should we leave them for our enemies? we always go out to conquer or die." i told him that i had heard it was the custom in their tribe to use the skins of their slain enemies as water-skins, in their natural form, and that if he had some of these skins, i hoped he would give me a male and female as specimens. the sheikh at once denied it; but the other sheikhs said that it was so, and hegam admitted that it had been a tribal custom long ago. i begged him to search among his old war-trophies, and he promised he would do so; but he evidently failed to procure one, for he never again mentioned the subject. these sheikhs afterwards asked to see me privately, and each of them in turn offered me a horse, which, they said, was the custom of their country; but i persistently refused to accept one, much to their chagrin. after inspecting the books, i left kebkebia, accompanied by omar wad darho, and directed the infantry to follow us to the village of melek hagger, where we had arranged to meet the maheria sheikhs. the road now became practically a desert; but as it was winter time, and we were mounted, the journey was not a trying one. about half a day's march beyond kebkebia, we reached the ogelli wells, where our horsemen filled their water-bottles, and we started on again at midnight, so as to get over the distance as quickly as possible. in the early morning we were overtaken by some mounted messengers, despatched by adam omar with a french cypher message from marcopoli bey, in the governor-general's name, which had been sent to foga, whence it had been posted on to kebkebia _via_ el fasher. it ran as follows: "a dervish named mohammed ahmed has, without just cause, attacked rashed bey near gedir. rashed bey and his troops have been annihilated. this revolt is very serious. take the necessary steps to prevent malcontents in your province from joining this dervish." i sent an immediate answer, as follows: "your message received. i shall take the necessary steps to comply with your orders." some time previously, i had been told privately that a religious sheikh had been causing difficulty to the government by calling on the natives to resist authority. as, however, i had heard nothing of the matter officially, i concluded it had been satisfactorily settled; but now this annihilation of the mudir rashed bey and his troops was evidently a matter of grave import. the movement must have suddenly assumed large dimensions; but who would have dreamt the results would have been so terrible and so widespread! having started on this expedition, i could not now well give it up without exciting mistrust; but i determined to bring it to a successful issue with the least possible delay. that evening we came across a herd of giraffe, which abound in this desert. catching sight of us, they at once scattered; and as i was mounted on the fast little pony gordon had given me, i galloped after one, and in a few minutes caught it up, and could with ease have killed it; but i knew that to cut it up and distribute the flesh would have taken hours, and the thought of this alarming telegram induced me to let the animal go. that night we halted at an ostrich hunter's settlement, and lost no time in lighting a fire to keep ourselves warm. we found these great desert tracts bitterly cold, and the shaigia were so numbed they could scarcely sit on their horses. these districts contain quantities of ostriches, which are hunted by the arabs and gellabas. a party of them, taking a supply of water on camels sufficient to last them for weeks, usually settle in some spot in the desert frequented by ostriches, where they build little straw huts just large enough to contain one man; and in these they patiently wait, on the chance of a stray shot. of course, if a man is fortunate enough to discover where an ostrich has laid eggs and buried them in the sand, he will patiently watch until the eggs are hatched, when he seizes the little birds, puts them in the cage he has ready, and takes them off to the nearest market, where he invariably gets a good price for them. we marched the whole of the next day, and at eleven o'clock the following morning reached the village of melek hagger, and were welcomed by the great zaghawa sheikh, who begged us to come to his village; but i preferred to camp under an enormous nabak-tree which stood in the centre of the khor, and was large enough to accommodate a hundred people under its shade. hasaballa, sheikh of the maheria, was also there, and told me that he had collected the water-skins, and a hundred and fifty camels which were grazing close by. adjutant-major suleiman basyuni, at the head of two hundred infantry, also marched in that evening; and, having procured from the village the quantity of corn required, as well as two oxen which were offered by the sheikhs and specially killed for the troops, we were able to continue our march the next morning. two days later we reached kama, the market town of the district ruled by melek saleh donkusa. this donkusa's sister, khadiga by name, when quite a young girl, had been presented by her parents to sultan hussein, and had eventually entered his harem, while her brother, who had also come to el fasher, obtained, owing to his superior ability, a high position in the palace. khadiga eventually bore sultan hussein a son, who died; and the latter had then liberated both khadiga and saleh, and had appointed him emir of the portion of the zaghawa tribe to which he belonged. now it happened that the mother of saleh and khadiga was a bedeyat maiden, and the present bedeyat rulers were their uncles. all this i knew beforehand, and had already taken steps to use donkusa as an intermediary between the maheria and the bedeyat, in order to induce the latter to give up the stolen camels without being obliged to have recourse to force. saleh informed me that, in accordance with my instructions, he had already sent word to the bedeyat chiefs, and that he expected them to arrive in a few days to make their submission to me. he therefore begged i would wait at his village. i was much gratified with this news, for i was most anxious to settle matters quickly and get back to el fasher. i told saleh to let the bedeyat chiefs know that i did not intend to be very severe, and that if they were really anxious to avoid a conflict, they should come at once; but at the same time i told him to warn them that i was very strong, and would not be tampered with. it is a strange fact that the bedeyat, although completely surrounded by moslem states and peoples, are almost the only tribe in this part of central africa who still adhere to their old heathen customs. if their chiefs are asked by mohammedans to repeat the creed, they can say, "there is no god but god, and mohammed is his prophet." but beyond this they know nothing; they are utterly ignorant of the precepts of the kuran, and never pray as moslems. under the widespreading branches of an enormous heglik-tree, and on a spot kept beautifully clean and sprinkled with fine sand, the bedeyat beseech an unknown god to direct them in their undertakings, and to protect them from danger. they have also religious feasts at uncertain dates, when they ascend the hills, and on the extreme summits, which are whitewashed, they offer sacrifices of animals. they are a fine, stalwart race, very dark in colour, with straight features, a thin nose and small mouth, and resemble arabs more than negroes. the women are famed for their long flowing hair, and there are some great beauties amongst them, as one often finds amongst the free arab tribes. they generally wear skins of animals round their waists and loins; but the higher class and their women dress in long flowing robes made of white darfur cotton cloth. their food is very plain. corn does not grow in their country, and is almost unknown to them. they take the seeds of the wild pumpkin, which grows there in abundance, and they soak them in wooden vessels made from the bark of trees. after taking the outer shells off, they leave the seeds to steep until they lose their bitterness, and then, straining them off and mixing them with dates, they grind them into a sort of flour, which is cooked with meat, and forms the principal food of the country. [illustration: bedayat praying to the sacred tree.] they have also most strange customs as regards inheritance and succession. the cemeteries are generally situated at some distance from the villages; and when a father dies, the body is taken by all the relatives to be buried. the ceremony over, on a given signal they all rush together at the top of their speed to the deceased's house; and he who arrives first and fixes his spear or arrow in it is considered the rightful heir, and not only becomes possessor of all the cattle, but also of his father's wives and other women, with the exception of his own mother. he is at perfect liberty to marry them if he wishes, or he can set them free. a man's female household is entirely regulated by his financial position. it is great or small according as the lord and master is rich or poor. as i before remarked, most of the people still adhered to their pagan customs, and it amused me greatly when saleh donkusa, who was by way of being a good moslem himself, denied to me, in the most emphatic manner, that such customs were still in vogue in his tribe. i asked him what the great heglik-tree was which i had passed the previous day when riding through the khor, and why the ground underneath was sprinkled with fine sand. the question surprised him, and for a moment, he was silent; he then answered that it was the usual meeting-place in which tribal matters were discussed. "the maheria arabs," said i, "wanted to graze their cattle near the tree; but when i saw that it was dedicated for some special purpose, i prevented them from doing so." he thanked me most heartily, and i could see that, though a fanatical moslem himself, he was determined to uphold the ancient manners and customs of his tribe, and so retain his hold over them. i subsequently learned that it was entirely through him that the holy tree was preserved; and as my work was not that of a missionary, i had no desire to interfere in their religious matters, and possibly bring about difficulties with the bedeyat, who had never seen a white man before. i was beginning to lose patience, owing to the delay of the chiefs in coming, when a certain ali wad el abiad arrived; he had been sub-kadi of shakka, and had just been discharged by emiliani, against whom he made the most bitter complaints, charging him with allowing the clerks to do exactly as they pleased, because he was so ignorant of the arabic language. he then told me he had heard in shakka that a dervish had been preaching a jehad (religious war) against the turks (government), and had already fought several successful actions. i immediately wrote off to emiliani, telling him of the kadi's complaint, and urging him to do all in his power to prevent the arabs communicating with the rebels, and to endeavour to do his utmost to keep the country tranquil. i also told him to lose no time in reporting to me fully on the general state of affairs. at length, after a stay of six days at kamo, saleh came to me with the satisfactory news that the bedeyat chiefs would arrive the next day. in concert with him, i selected the heglik-tree as the place of meeting, which was to be held one hour after sunrise and in which he was to act as the intermediary between myself and the bedeyat. i then ordered our tents to be moved to within less than half a mile of the tree, and early the next morning i had the troops drawn up in line ready to receive the bedeyat chiefs, whose approach saleh now announced. standing with my officers and sanjak, omar wad darho, about one hundred yards in front of the line, with our servants holding the horses, we prepared to receive our distinguished visitors, who, guided by saleh, were now seen advancing, with their hands crossed on their chests and heads bowed low. they had brought an interpreter with them, and through him we exchanged mutual greeting. i then ordered carpets to be spread on the ground, and asked them to be seated, whilst i and my officers sat on small field chairs; and, having partaken of sugar and water and dates, we began our palaver. [illustration: surrender of the bedayat to slatin.] the four bedeyat sheikhs were tall, fine-looking middle-aged men, with good features and dressed in long white robes which no doubt our friend saleh had prepared for them; they also wore the usual straight arab sword. their names were gar en nebbi, bosh, omar, and kurukuru; but i am not quite sure that these high-sounding arab names were not assumed for the occasion. their attendants, numbering between sixty and seventy men, dressed in shirts and skins, stood some way behind, while saleh donkusa seated himself close to the sheikhs and the interpreter. the spokesman, gar en nebbi, now addressed the interpreter with the words "kursi sellem," to which the latter answered "sellem," indicating that he was ready to translate; and he then began: "we belong to the bedeyat tribe, and our fathers and grandfathers have paid tribute to the sultans of darfur every two or three years when an officer was sent to collect it. you turks have now subdued the furs and have conquered the country, and you have never before asked us to pay tribute. you [slatin]--as our friend and brother saleh donkusa has informed us--are the ruler of this country, and in token of submission we have brought you ten horses, ten camels, and forty cows. do you, therefore, fix the amount of tribute to be paid by us." it was now my turn to speak; so, repeating the "kursi sellem," i began: "i thank you for your submission, and i am only going to demand a small tribute; but i have specially come here to call on you to return the camels you stole from the maheria, and release the prisoners you captured." gar en nebbi, after a short pause, replied: "since the time of our forefathers we have been in constant feud with the various arab tribes. if we fight and take prisoners, it is our custom to allow them to be ransomed. we have often before released maheria captives." i referred to sheikh hasaballa to ask if this was so, and he answered in the affirmative; and then i asked whether he had ever done so since the egyptian government had taken possession of the country, or whether he referred to the period in which they were ruled by the darfur sultans. "before you conquered the country," he answered, "but only two years ago, the maheria invaded our country; we repulsed them and drove them out, so that they returned empty-handed." i looked at hasaballa, and saw from his silence that the bedeyat was telling the truth. "that may be so," i answered, "but at that time i was not governing this country. i am well aware that in those days you did what you thought was right, and i do not in any way blame you for it; but as i am now your master, i wish you to act in accordance with my orders. you should, therefore, hand over your prisoners; but as the maheria previously attacked you, then i order that instead of returning them all the camels you took, you can retain half, as a reward for your bravery in having prevented them from pillaging your country." a long pause now took place, and the four sheikhs discussed the matter between themselves. gar en nebbi then answered, "we shall comply with your orders; but as it will take a long time to collect the camels, which are scattered throughout the country, it will be easier for us to release the captives." "then look sharp," said i, "and carry out these orders as soon as possible; and when you have done so, i will release you from the payment of this year's tribute. i can quite understand that it may cause you some difficulty to return the camels and pay your taxes as well." this arrangement apparently quite satisfied them, and they thanked me profusely; so i asked them to stay with us till the following day, and saleh would look after all their wants. then, mounting our horses, i gave the command to the troops to fire three volleys, which terrified the poor bedeyat, who had scarcely ever seen fire-arms. telling saleh to bring the sheikhs before me the next morning at the same hour, i galloped off with my escort to the camp. during the day i busied myself in considering how best to get back to el fasher without endangering the success of my present expedition; i could not wait until the bedeyat had collected and handed over their captives; moreover, i was disturbed about the condition of the water-skins supplied by the maheria, and blamed hasaballa severely for furnishing such bad equipment. next morning, when the sheikhs arrived, i asked them if they had yet despatched men to collect the prisoners and camels; and when they answered no, i replied in an irritated tone that i could not possibly wait to see my orders carried out. to this gar en nebbi answered, "master, we are here to carry out your orders; you can return, and we shall deliver over the men and animals to saleh donkusa and hasaballa, who is remaining as his guest." "i have another proposal to make," said i. "i do not doubt your sincerity and loyalty, but i am anxious to know you better personally; i wish, therefore, you and any others you may desire to bring with you should accompany me to el fasher, and at the same time tell your representatives to collect the men and animals and hand them over to hasaballa, who is staying with donkusa. when i hear at el fasher that this has been done, i shall then send you back to your country laden with rich presents. you have never visited el fasher yet, and you will be interested to see the seat of government and understand its power, and i sincerely trust that you and saleh will concur with my proposal; you will be so pleased with all you will see that in future i know you will always comply most readily with my orders." saleh at once answered that he thought the proposal a very good one, and that he was content to stay behind, as he had already seen el fasher. i saw by the faces of the bedeyat that the idea pleased them, and after a long palaver amongst themselves they made up their minds to accompany me. knowing that the sooner they carried out my orders about the return of the captives and camels the sooner they would start, they lost no time in nominating good men as their representatives with the tribe, and, selecting six men as their attendants, they announced they were ready to leave; but before starting they wished to swear the oath of fidelity, in which, of course, i readily acquiesced. the ceremony was performed as follows: a horse's saddle was brought and placed in the midst of the assembly, and on this was laid a large earthenware dish filled with burning charcoal; a lance was then fixed to the saddle, and the head-sheikhs, with their attendants, now came forward and, stretching out their hands over the lance and burning charcoal, they recited the following words with great solemnity, "may my leg never touch the saddle, may my body be smitten with the lance that kills, and may i be consumed by the burning fire, if i ever break the solemn oath of fidelity which i now make to you." after this solemn declaration i had now no doubt of the loyalty and honesty of these people. that afternoon i gave the order to start, and, accompanied by the four bedeyat chiefs and their attendants, we left kamo, having given saleh and hasaballa most strict injunctions to inform me without delay when the tribe had complied with my instructions. anxious to reach el fasher without further delay, i left the sheikhs in charge of the infantry, telling the officers to do all that was possible to make their journey comfortable; and then, accompanied by omar wad darho and my shaigia escort, i set off at a rapid pace. the first information i received on arrival at el fasher was the sad news of the sudden death of emiliani at shakka. he had been suffering from heart disease for years, and at last it had carried him off; his officials, who did not understand the suddenness of the disease, thought they might be suspected of poisoning him, and had at once brought his body on a camel to dara, where the apothecary held a rough post-mortem examination, and certified that death had occurred from natural causes. his body was buried at dara, and i afterwards had a stone erected to commemorate my poor countryman who had died in this distant land. i next learnt that some trouble had arisen at shakka which would oblige me to go to dara for a few days. disquieting rumours also reached us of the state of affairs in kordofan and khartum; however, it was generally thought in government circles that the revolt would be speedily crushed by the military expedition despatched for this purpose. a few days later the troops with the bedeyat sheikhs arrived, and in order to impress them, i ordered out all the garrison, and in the evening we had a grand firework display in their honour. i intrusted the mudir with looking after the comfort of my guests, but unfortunately i was not able to stay long with them; as soon as the horses were sufficiently rested, i started off again for dara, accompanied by darho and his two hundred shaigias, leaving said bey guma as commandant and representative of the government during my absence. chapter iv. the khalifa's personal account of the rise of the mahdi. early life of mohammed ahmed, the mahdi--the religious tarikas--mohammed ahmed quarrels with his religious superior--he is refused forgiveness, and joins a rival sheikh--he is joined by abdullahi et taaishi--the mahdi secretly tells abdullahi of his divine mission--the failure to seize mohammed ahmed on abba island--the mahdi's hejira to jebel gedir--he nominates his khalifas--the defeat of rashed bey and yusef pasha shellali--effect of the mahdi's victories in kordofan--the mahdi's intrigues with the inhabitants of el obeid--futility of the steps taken by the government to cope with the revolt. the revolt raised by the so-called dervish proved to be of a very serious nature. this man, mohammed ahmed, was born near the island of argo, in dongola, and was of a poor and obscure family, but who claimed to be "ashraf," or descendants of the "prophet." their claims to this dignity, however, were not inquired into or acknowledged by any one. in general he was known as a dongolawi. his father was an ordinary fiki, or religious teacher, and had given him his early instruction in reading the kuran and in writing, and when still a child had taken him to khartum; but he himself had died on his journey, near kerreri, and here his son subsequently erected a tomb to him, known as the "kubbet es sayed abdullahi" (the dome of sayed abdullahi). young mohammed ahmed was now left entirely to his own resources. he studied assiduously, and, being of a deeply religious disposition, he became a great favourite with his master, who taught him to learn the kuran by heart, and gave him his early instruction in theology; he subsequently went to berber, and became the pupil of the well-known mohammed el kheir (formerly mohammed ed dekkeir), who completed his religious education. he remained for several years in berber continually studying, and his unassuming nature, intelligence, and religious zeal made him a great favourite with his instructors. when he arrived at manhood he quitted berber and went to khartum, where he became a disciple of the celebrated and highly revered sheikh mohammed sherif, whose father, nur ed dayem, and grandfather, et tayeb, had been the principal exponents of the sammania tarika, or doctrine. the meaning of the word "tarika" is literally "way"; hence "sheikh et tarika" signifies "the guide to the way." the duties of these holy personages consist in writing a certain number of prayers and texts of the prophet, which the devotees are called upon to repeat a certain number of times, and thus facilitate the "way" to those heavenly mansions which are the goal of all true believers. the sheikhs et tarika are therefore exponents of various doctrines, and each one bears the name of the original founder of the order; such as the "khatmia," the "khadria," the "tegania," the "sammania," etc. they are held in high respect by their disciples, who are their most devoted and obedient adherents. mohammed ahmed soon showed himself a most zealous and ardent supporter of the sammania tarika, and became very devoted to its head, sheikh mohammed sherif. he now went to live on the island of abba, on the white nile, near kawa, surrounded by several devoted disciples. they earned a livelihood by cultivating the lands, and received frequent gifts from religious persons who passed up or down the nile. mohammed ahmed's grand-uncle, mohammed sharfi, had resided on the island for some years, and the young zealot had married his daughter. his two brothers, mohammed and hamed, also lived there, drove a good trade in boat-building, and supported the young fiki, who had hollowed out for himself a cave in the mud bank, and lived here in almost entire seclusion, fasting often for days, and occasionally paying a visit to the head of the order to assure him of his devotion and obedience. one day it fell out that mohammed sherif, as is the custom on such occasions, had gathered together his sheikhs and disciples to celebrate the feast of the circumcision of his sons; he had also given out that his guests might amuse themselves by singing and dancing as they liked, and that as such feasts were occasions of rejoicing, he would pardon, in god's name, any sins that might be committed during the festivities which were contrary to the religious law. but the godly fiki, mohammed ahmed, pointed out to his friends that singing, dancing, and playing were transgressions against the laws of god, and that no man, be he even sheikh et tarika, could forgive such sins. these views reached the ears of mohammed sherif, who, entirely disagreeing with mohammed ahmed's arguments, and being withal very angry at this assumption on the part of his disciple, called on him to justify himself. consequently mohammed ahmed, in the presence of all the inferior sheikhs and fikis, came in the most humble manner before mohammed sherif and besought his forgiveness. sherif, however, abused him roundly, called him a traitor and a sedition-monger who had broken his vow of obedience and fidelity, and ignominiously struck him off the list of disciples of the sammania order. thoroughly humbled and subdued, mohammed ahmed now went to one of his relatives and asked him to make a sheba;[ ] and with this on his neck, and his head besprinkled with ashes, he again returned in deep repentance to mohammed sherif, begging his forgiveness. the latter, however, utterly refused to have anything further to say to him, and, in despair, mohammed ahmed returned to his family in abba. he held the founders of the sammania order, sheikhs nur ed dayem and et tayeb, in the greatest respect, and to be removed with ignominy from his beloved tarika was a disgrace too hard to be borne. shortly afterwards mohammed sherif happened to be in the neighbourhood, and again mohammed ahmed appeared before him in the sheba and ashes, and once more implored forgiveness. "be off, you traitor!" shouted mohammed sherif. "get away, you wretched dongolawi, who fears not god and opposes his master and teacher! you have verified the words of the saying, 'ed dongolawi shaitan mugalled bigild el insan' [the dongolawi is the devil in the skin of a man]. by your words you try to spread dissension amongst the people. be off with you! i shall never forgive you!" kneeling in silence, his head bowed low, mohammed ahmed listened to these scathing words; then, rising, he went sadly away. tears streamed down his cheeks; but they were not now tears of repentance. rage and anger burned within him, and these feelings were heightened by the knowledge of his powerlessness to do anything by which to wipe out this disgrace and insult. boiling over with indignation, he returned to his home and announced to his faithful disciples that he had been finally abandoned by mohammed sherif, and that he now intended to apply to sheikh el koreishi, who lived near mesallamia, to receive him into his order. this sheikh had succeeded the holy sheikh et tayeb, the grandfather of mohammed sherif, and was one of those authorised to maintain and teach the sammania doctrines as he considered right; and on this account there was considerable jealousy between him and mohammed sherif. in due time sheikh el koreishi's reply was received, saying that he would accept him gladly. mohammed ahmed and his disciples now made all preparations to proceed to mesallamia, and were on the point of starting, when a message was received from mohammed sherif, directing him to appear before him, when he would give him a full pardon, and permit him to resume his old functions; but to this mohammed ahmed sent back a dignified answer that he felt perfectly innocent of any crime, and sought no forgiveness from him; and that moreover he had no desire to lower him in the eyes of the world by bringing about a meeting between him and "a wretched dongolawi." sheikh koreishi now received him with open arms; and the incident between the godly but cunning mohammed ahmed and his late spiritual guide spread far and wide in the sudan. that an inferior in a religious order should have refused the forgiveness of his superior was an unheard-of proceeding; but mohammed ahmed did not hesitate now to proclaim openly that he had left his late superior because he could no longer have any respect for a master who acted contrary to the religious law. and in this way he secured an immense amount of public sympathy, which brought his name prominently forward, and added considerably to his prestige. even in distant darfur the matter was the principal topic of conversation, and his refusal to accept forgiveness made him the hero of the hour. he obtained sheikh koreishi's permission to return to abba, where he received visitors from all parts, who sought the blessing of this holy man; and common people now crowded to the island, seeing in him a sympathetic leader who was bold enough to openly defy his superiors. he received quantities of gifts, and these he openly distributed amongst the poor, thus earning the epithet of "zahed" (the renouncer, or one who has renounced the good things of this life). he then made a journey through kordofan, where the towns and villages abound with religious fikis of the most ignorant and superstitious description. amongst them he had an enormous success. he also wrote a pamphlet, which he distributed amongst his specially trusted adherents, summoning them as true believers to do all in their power to purify the religion, which was becoming debased and insulted by the corruption of the government and the utter disregard of the officials for the tenets of the true faith. a few months later the sheikh el koreishi died, and mohammed ahmed and his disciples lost no time in going at once to mesallamia, where they erected a tomb, or dome, to his memory. it was while here that a certain abdullahi bin mohammed, of the taaisha section of the baggara (cattle-owning) tribe of southwestern darfur, presented himself to mohammed ahmed and sought permission to be admitted into the sammania tarika; his request was granted, and abdullahi swore eternal fidelity to his new master. this man was the eldest of the four sons of mohammed et taki, of the juberat division of the taaisha tribe, which in its turn was descended from the "aulad um sura." his three other brothers were yakub, yusef, and sammani; he also had a sister named fatma. the father was on bad terms with his relatives, and determined to proceed on pilgrimage with his whole family to mecca, where he resolved to settle, and end his days in close proximity to the birthplace of his prophet. those who knew et taki described him as a good man, scrupulous in his attendance to his religious duties, and capable of curing diseases and insanity by means of heggabs, or religious charms; he was also a teacher of the kuran. of his sons, abdullahi and yusef were the most unmanageable, and the father had the greatest difficulty in making them learn by heart even the few passages from the kuran necessary for the ordinary prayers. yakub and sammani, on the other hand, had more of their father's quiet disposition, and, having learnt their verses and commentaries, were able to help him in his religious duties. the family had, it appears, joined the furs in combating zubeir's entry to darfur, and the latter relates how, during the fight at shakka, he took abdullahi prisoner, and was about to have him shot, when some of the ulema craved pardon for him, which he granted. abdullahi, in his gratitude, subsequently sought out zubeir secretly, and announced to him that he had had a dream, in which it had been shown to him that he was the expected mahdi, and that he (abdullahi) was to be one of his faithful followers. "i told him," relates zubeir, "that i was not the mahdi; but that when i became aware of the wickedness of the arabs, and how they blocked the roads, i came to open them and establish trade." et taki and the family quitted their home when zubeir had concluded peace, and, travelling _via_ kalaka to shakka, they had remained there two years, and had proceeded thence _via_ dar homr and el obeid to dar gimr, where they remained the guests of the head-sheikh for some months, and where et taki died, and was buried by the head-sheikh, asaker abu kalam, at sherkéla. before his death he urged on his eldest son, abdullahi to take refuge with some religious sheikh on the nile, then immigrate to mecca, and never return again to their country. leaving his brothers and sister under the care of sheikh asaker abu kalam, in accordance with the dying wishes of his father, abdullahi set out for the nile valley; and when making inquiries along the road, he heard of the dissension between mohammed ahmed and his sheikh, mohammed sherif, and he resolved to go to the former and ask him to allow him to join the order. "it was a very troublesome journey," said abdullahi bin sayed mohammed, khalifat el mahdi (his full name), to me some years later, when he first became ruler of the sudan; for at that time he used to talk openly to me, and had not learnt to mistrust me, as he did latterly. in those days, as i shall subsequently relate, he would send for me and chat with me alone by the hour, seated on his beautifully made angareb, over which a palm-mat was spread, whilst i sat beside him on the ground, with my legs tucked up under me. "yes, indeed, it was a very troublesome journey," he repeated. "at that time my entire property consisted of one donkey, and he had a gall on his back, so that i could not ride him; but i made him carry my water-skin and a bag of corn, over which i spread my rough cotton garment, and drove him along in front of me. at that time i wore the wide cotton shirt, like the rest of my tribe. you remember it, do you not, abdel kader? for you have only recently come from my beautiful country [he always used to call me "abdel kader," unless there happened to be present another man of the same name, when he would call me "abdel kader saladin," _i. e._, slatin]. my clothes and my dialect at once marked me out as a stranger wherever i went; and when i crossed the nile, i was frequently greeted with 'what do you want? go back to your country; there is nothing to steal here.' the nile people do not think well of us," he continued, "because the merchants going west to zubeir, in bahr el ghazal and to our countries, were frequently maltreated by the arabs; and when i asked them where the mahdi, who was known as mohammed ahmed, lived, they gazed at me incredulously, saying, 'what are you going to him for? he would not soil his lips by even mentioning the name of your race.' every one, however, did not treat me in this way; some would take pity on me and direct me. once, when passing through a village, the people wanted to take my donkey away, saying that it had been stolen from them the year before; and they would have succeeded, had not an elderly and god-fearing man interposed and allowed me to pursue my way. i was continually mocked and hooted at during my long journey; and had not a few people out of sheer pity occasionally given me some food, i must have starved. at length i reached mesallamia, and here i found the mahdi busily engaged in building the tomb of the late sheikh el koreishi. on seeing him i entirely forgot all the troubles i had suffered on my journey, and was content to simply look at him and listen to his teaching. for several hours i was too timid to dare to speak to him; but at length i plucked up courage, and in a few words told him my story, and about the sad condition of my brothers and sister, and i begged him, for the sake of god and his prophet, to allow me to become one of his disciples. he did so, and gave me his hand, which i kissed most fervently, and i swore entire submission to him as long as i lived. this oath i kept most scrupulously until the angel of death overtook him; and some day he will overtake us, and therefore we should ever be ready to meet him." pausing for a moment, he gazed at me, and i at once said, "yes, indeed, sire, you have faithfully kept your promise; and the lord god almighty has rewarded you; for you, who at one time were despised and rejected, have now become absolute lord and sovereign of this land. those who insulted you at that time should indeed be thankful that you have not wreaked vengeance on their heads. a man capable of such restraint must indeed be the successor of the prophet." abdullahi, i knew, loved praise and flattery, and on this occasion i perhaps almost exceeded the limits; but i was most anxious that he should continue to tell me his story. "when i had taken the oath," continued abdullahi, "the mahdi called one of his disciples, named ali, and said to him, 'you are brethren from this day; give each other your mutual support, trust in god, and do you, abdullahi, obey the orders of your brother.' ali was very good to me; he was as poor as myself, but when the mahdi sent him any food he always shared it fairly with me. during the day we carried bricks required for building the tomb, and at night we slept side by side. in a month the dome was complete. at this time the mahdi received hundreds of visitors, and had little time to look at or think of me; still, i knew that i had found a place in his heart, and he appointed me one of his flag-bearers.[ ] when we left mesallamia, people flocked around us to gaze at the mahdi, whom they at that time called only mohammed ahmed, and listen to his teachings and seek his blessing. "it was in this way that we marched to the island of abba. my sandals were worn out, and i had to give my donkey to a mukaddum [superior disciple] to carry a sick man; but at length we reached the mahdi's house, and now i fell very ill with dysentery. my brother ali took me to his little straw hut, which was scarcely large enough to hold two people, looked after my food, and, as i was in bed, he used to fetch water from the river to enable me to perform my 'wadu' [religious ablution]. "one evening he went to fetch the water, but did not return; and the next day i was told that he had been attacked and killed by a crocodile,--allah yerhamu! allah yeghfurlu! [may god be merciful, may god forgive him his sins!]" i repeated these words after the khalifa, adding, "sire, how great is your patience! and therefore has god exalted you. now may i ask you if, during your illness, the mahdi paid any attention to you?" "no," replied khalifa abdullahi, "the mahdi wished to try me. it was not till after ali's death, and when i lay helpless in the hut, that he was told i was ill. one evening he came to see me. i was too weak to get up, so he sat beside me, and gave me some warm medida [a sort of meal pap which, mixed with melted butter, is used as a stimulant] out of my pumpkin gourd, saying, 'drink that, it will do you good; trust in god.' he then left me, and shortly afterwards some of the brethren arrived, and took me, by his order, to a cottage near his own hut. he himself lived in a simple tukul [straw hut]. from the moment i had taken the medida which he had given me i felt better; he had said it would do me good, and the mahdi always speaks the truth, and cannot lie." "yes, indeed," i interposed; "the mahdi is faithful and true, and you as his successor have followed exactly in his footsteps." "once near him," continued the khalifa, "i recovered rapidly, for i saw the mahdi daily; he was as the light of my eyes, and my mind was at rest. he used to ask about my family, and said they had better remain in kordofan for the present. 'trust in god' was always the last thing he said to me. he now used often to come and talk privately with me, and one day he intrusted me with the secret of his divine mission. he was appointed as mahdi by god, he said, and had been taken by the prophet into the presence of the apostles and saints. but long before he intrusted me with his secret--indeed from the first moment i beheld his face--i knew that he was the messenger of god,--el mahdi el muntazer [the expected guide]. yes, these were indeed happy days, and we had then no cares or troubles; and now, abdel kader, as it is getting late, you had better go to bed." "may god grant you a long life, and may he strengthen you to lead the true believers into the right path," said i; and i quitted his presence with the usual salute. in abdullahi, the mahdi had a ready instrument at hand for his great work. it is strange to think that this man might never have risen to any importance, had he not quarrelled with mohammed sherif; but now the reputation he had already gained amongst the inhabitants of the gezira (the country lying between the blue and white niles) raised hopes in his mind that he was destined for a high position. he now began to secretly tell his special adherents that the time had come when religion must be purified, that this was to be his work, and that those of them who wished might join him in it. but he always called himself the slave of god, and made believe that he was acting entirely on inspiration from above. abdullahi was able to give him full information about the western tribes, who, he said, being powerful and courageous, would gladly seize an occasion to fight for the religion of god and his prophet, and to conquer or die. to secure their adherence he advised mohammed ahmed to make a tour through kordofan; and, setting out, they proceeded to dar gimr, where abdullahi's family immediately joined them and became his faithful adherents. he told them, however, that the time had not yet come for them to leave their homes; for the present they would be more useful in inciting the local inhabitants. from dar gimr he proceeded to el obeid, where he visited all the principal chiefs and sheikhs, religious and other, and by inquiring carefully into their views and opinions, he gradually laid the foundations for his great design. in the strictest secrecy he told those of whose fidelity he was assured that he had a divine mission to cleanse and purify the religion, already polluted and debased by corrupt officials. in el obeid his most trusted confidant was the sayed el mekki, the head of the religious sheikhs; but he advised that for the present no active steps should be taken, as the government was very powerful, and the tribes were too split up and disunited to be able to raise a revolt. mohammed ahmed took a more sanguine view, and between them it was agreed that mekki should observe absolute secrecy, and should take no steps until mohammed ahmed should begin the movement, when he promised him his entire support. after leaving el obeid, he proceeded to tagalla, where he interviewed mek adam um daballo, the ruler of the district, who received him very kindly, but who, on the advice of his kadi, refused to make any promises of assistance. he now returned to abba, _via_ sherkéla. during this tour mohammed ahmed had full opportunities of seeing for himself the state of the country, and he was soon convinced that there was a spirit of the most bitter hostility against the authorities on the part of the poorer population, who, as i have already pointed out, were taxed out of all proportion to their property, and who suffered terrible oppression and tyranny at the hands of the self-seeking and unscrupulous tax-gatherers who infested the country. amongst the latter, there were now a considerable number of sudanese, who lost no opportunity of enriching themselves and of putting their relatives in positions of secondary importance, to help them to this end. as a case in point, gordon's nomination of the wealthy sudanese merchant elias as pasha and governor-general of kordofan created an immense amount of ill-feeling in the country; and the same might be said of his assistant, abderrahman ben naga, also a wealthy kordofan merchant. both of them were capable men, and understood the management of the people; but they worked entirely for their interests and those of their relatives. moreover, a spirit of jealousy became rampant amongst other sudanese of high rank, who considered themselves quite as capable of filling high positions as those who had been selected in preference to them. consequently, when elias pasha sent orders to mek adam to pay his taxes, he refused point blank, as he was of royal descent. "i pay for goods i buy from merchants, but i do not pay tribute to them," said mek adam proudly to the officials who had been sent to him. at the same time he sent to el obeid to inquire if all the turks and other "whites" had died, as the government had now given high positions to men who were merely merchants, instead of to persons of high descent. these were the reasons for the subsequent discharge of elias pasha and abderrahman from their official positions, and their substitution by turks and egyptians. as regards the europeans, there were very few of us; but as a rule we were liked and respected, because the people trusted our word; but i do not doubt that we also gave them cause at times to be dissatisfied with us. with probably the best intentions in the world, we would issue rules and regulations entirely at variance with the manners, customs, and traditions of the sudanese. there is also no doubt that our attitude in regard to the slave question caused wide-spread discontent. the religion permitted slavery, and from time immemorial the ground had been cultivated and the cattle tended by slaves. that slave-hunting and slave-driving led to the perpetration of the most horrible cruelties and bloodshed, i do not for a moment hesitate to admit; but this was a matter of very little concern to the slave-buyers, who as a rule did not ill-treat their slaves. now we, by our activity and energy, had not only made the export of slaves from the black countries almost impossible, but we listened to the complaints of slaves against their masters, and invariably set them free. mohammed ahmed cleverly seized the occasion of all this discontent to act; he was well aware that religion was the only possible means of uniting all these discordant elements and widely diversified tribes who were at continual feud with each other; he therefore declared himself the "mahdi el muntazer"; thus at once creating himself a personality which must be superior to all others, and hoping by this means to drive out of the country the hated turks, egyptians, and europeans. but still he thought the time for an open declaration was not yet ripe; he therefore continued to increase the number of his trusted adherents, till at length the nature of his divine mission became an open secret. some time previous to this, rauf pasha, governor-general at khartum, had been secretly told by mohammed sherif of mohammed ahmed's intentions; but it was known that the early differences between the two religious sheikhs had greatly embittered sherif, and consequently the authorities did not lay much store by his statements, and merely concluded that mohammed ahmed was a holy man who had obtained a certain hold over the people, owing to his superior sanctity. but now the government learnt from quite another source that this man was a danger to the public peace, and therefore they determined to put an end to the matter, once and for all. for this purpose rauf pasha sent for mohammed bey abu es saud, who was known to mohammed ahmed, and despatched him in a steamer to abba with orders to bring the sheikh to khartum. mohammed ahmed's friends, however, gave him timely warning, and told him that if he came to khartum he would in all likelihood be kept there, through the intrigues of mohammed sherif. when, therefore, saud appeared at abba, he was welcomed by abdullahi and mohammed ahmed's brother, who conducted him to the sheikh. abu saud now informed him of the reports--false he admitted--which had been circulated about him, and strongly advised him to come to khartum and justify himself before his master, the governor-general. "what!" shouted mohammed ahmed, rising suddenly, and striking his chest with his hand, "by the grace of god and his prophet i am the master of this country, and never shall i go to khartum to justify myself." abu saud drew back terrified; he then tried to calm him by soft words; but mohammed ahmed, who had previously planned this scene with abdullahi and his brother, continued to talk vehemently, and urged abu saud to believe in the truth of what he said. abu saud was now, however, much concerned about the safety of his own person, and as soon as he could beat a safe retreat, he did so, and returned to khartum to inform the astonished governor-general of the failure of his mission. mohammed ahmed now realised that there was no time to be lost; his future depended entirely on his own immediate exertions, and he did not hesitate to instantly write to his adherents throughout the length and breadth of the sudan, stirring them up against the government, while he directed his own immediate followers to prepare forthwith for the jehad. in the meantime, rauf pasha was not idle; realising, after his interview with abu saud, that the matter was very serious, he resolved to despatch two companies, each under the command of an adjutant-major, to seize this fanatic; and thinking to create emulation between them, he promised that the officer who succeeded in capturing him should be promoted at once to the rank of major. but this plan only ended in creating discord, and the consequences were direful in the extreme. the troops, under the chief command of abu saud, were embarked in the steamer, "ismaïlia," which had been armed with a gun, and, quitting khartum early in august, , they proceeded to abba; but on the journey discussions arose between the two officers and abu saud. meanwhile mohammed ahmed, who had news of the despatch of the steamer, collected his people, and, obtaining help from the degheim and kenana tribes near him, whom he summoned to join in a jehad, he made all preparations to offer resistance, stirring up religious enthusiasm by declaring that the prophet had appeared to him and announced that all persons taking part in this religious war should earn the title of "sheikh abdel kader el gilani" and "emir el aulia,"[ ] titles highly prized amongst moslems. now, however, that matters had become really serious, those who came forward and offered to give up their property and lay down their lives for the great cause were not numerous. the steamers arrived off abba at sunset, and, in spite of abu saud's appeals, the two officers determined to disembark at once. but the commander, into whose heart fear had entered when he heard mohammed ahmed declaring that he was "master of the land," remained on board with his gun, and anchored in mid-stream. both officers, entirely ignorant of the locality, and each jealous of the other winning the tempting reward, advanced by different paths in the dead of night along the muddy banks towards mohammed ahmed's settlement. the latter with his adherents had quitted the huts, and, armed with swords, lances, and clubs, had hidden themselves in the high grass, whilst the troops, arriving from opposite directions, now opened a hot fire on the empty village, with the result that each inflicted considerable loss on the other; and in the midst of this hopeless confusion the villagers leapt from their ambush and created terrible havoc amongst the already demoralised men, who fled in all directions. a few only succeeded in reaching the bank and swimming out to the steamer; and abu saud, now thoroughly terrified, wished to return instantly to khartum, but was at last induced by the captain to stay till the following morning, in the hope of picking up fugitives. none, however, came, and at dawn he steamed back at full speed, with his direful news. the effect of this success on mohammed ahmed and his adherents can be readily understood; they had suffered little or no loss, though he himself had been slightly wounded in the arm, and abdullahi, who dressed the wound, counselled that this little accident should be kept secret from the rest. still, the number of his followers was not largely increased, as the local people were convinced that government would take strong measures to suppress the revolt, and they would not risk the losses which they felt certain would ensue. mohammed ahmed, strongly urged by abdullahi and his brothers to increase the distance between himself and the khartum authorities, now resolved to retreat to southern kordofan; and to avoid this move being considered a flight, he announced to his adherents that he had received an inspiration to proceed to jebel masa,[ ] and there await further divine instructions. before quitting abba, he appointed, also in accordance with the divine will, his four khalifas. the first of these was abdullahi, who (the precedent of the prophet being adopted) represented the khalifa abu bakr es sadik; ali wad helu, of the degheim tribe (white nile), was chosen to represent the khalifa omar ibn el khattab; and the representative of the fourth khalifa, ali el karrar, was mohammed esh sherif, one of mohammed ahmed's relatives, who was then only a boy. the chair of the third khalifa, osman ibn affan, was not filled for the moment, but was subsequently offered to and refused by the great sheikh es sennusi, of northern africa. to move this large following across the river was now a matter of some difficulty, for the people who owned boats, fearing that they might be accused of complicity, at first refused; but at length all--including a large contingent of degheim and kenana arabs, who joined at the last moment--were transferred to the west bank; and, advancing into the dar gimr country, mohammed ahmed summoned the inhabitants of the districts through which he passed to follow him to jebel masa. the greatest enthusiasm now prevailed amongst his followers, who lost no opportunity of telling the credulous and superstitious populations through which they passed, of the wonderful miracles performed by the mahdi. on one occasion, quite ignorant of any danger, he halted with only a few followers in close proximity to the camp of a certain adjutant-major named mohammed guma, who, with a party of sixty soldiers, was collecting taxes. the latter, fearing the responsibility he might incur by attacking him without orders, referred to el obeid for instructions; but long before they arrived the mahdi had rejoined the bulk of his people and had continued his march; so this golden opportunity was lost. years afterwards i met the unfortunate guma in a sad and miserable plight in omdurman. "ah!" said he, "if i had only known then that i should be reduced to walking about barefoot, and begging my bread, i should not have asked for instructions, and so allowed that wretched dongolawi to escape; it would have been better to have been killed than to have endured the miseries of this wretched existence." another excellent opportunity of capturing him was also lost. it happened that giegler pasha had been ordered to come to el obeid to represent the governor-general in connection with a case of embezzlement by a district inspector and wealthy sudan merchant named abdel hadi; hearing that the so-called mahdi was in the neighbourhood, he despatched, towards the end of september, mohammed said pasha with four companies to arrest him and bring him to el obeid. but either by design or through carelessness the expedition failed in its object; the troops, apparently, halted during the day at the place in which the rebels had slept the previous night, and after thus uselessly wasting three days, they returned to el obeid, the result being that they were discredited as being afraid to attack, and the mahdi's prestige rose proportionately. it had been mohammed ahmed's intention to stay for a time at jebel tagalla; but mek adam, learning of this, sent one of his sons to him with a gift of corn and sheep, bearing a message that he thought he had better retire further into the interior. he was therefore obliged to continue his journey, and after a long and troublesome march at length reached jebel gedir, where, in addition to the local inhabitants, a section of the kenana tribe now resided. at this time rashed bey was governor of fashoda; and, being fully informed of the mahdi's movements, resolved to attack him before he became more powerful. a german named berghof was also in fashoda. he was formerly a photographer in khartum, but rauf pasha had sent him up the river as an inspector for the suppression of slavery. rashed now advanced, accompanied by berghof and kaiku bey, king of the shilluks, towards gedir. entirely underrating the enemy with whom he had to deal, he marched with no military precautions, fell into a carefully prepared ambush, and some fourteen hundred of his men were annihilated. so sudden was the attack that there was not even time to fire a rocket. rashed and a few of his personal attendants made a gallant defence, but were soon overpowered by superior numbers and killed. this defeat occurred on th december, and mohammed ahmed no longer hesitated to call himself the mahdi. his prestige, especially in the eyes of the arabs, rose enormously; nevertheless, his relations with his immediate neighbours were not of the best. khalifa abdullahi, in subsequent conversations with me in omdurman, referred to this period, as far as i can recollect, in the following words: "we arrived at last at gedir, thoroughly tired out after our long and troublesome journey. the mahdi had only one horse, and that of the inferior abyssinian breed, while i had to walk almost the whole distance; but god grants strength to those true believers who are ready to lay down their lives for the faith. my brothers, yakub, yusef, and sammani had joined us with their families, also my stepmother, who was nursing my baby at her breast. my brother harun, too, would not stay behind, so he also joined us. i was always greatly concerned about my wife, stepmother, and child, who is osman sheikh ed din, whom you now see before you. it did not so much matter for us men; troubles and afflictions are sent us by god, and we bear them, only too thankful that we should be chosen by him to raise the faith which had been trodden down to the dust, and to teach our brethren. but," said he, smiling, "teaching won't bring us food for our women and children. people flocked to us in crowds, it is true; but most of them were even more destitute than ourselves, and came to us for support. those who were well off shunned us,--riches are the curse of this world,--and those who have them will be deprived of the joys of paradise. the people whose countries we crossed did not give us much help; but the little he got the mahdi graciously offered to the pilgrims, whom he considered as his guests. when i heard the women and children weeping, i felt sometimes that my heart would break; but when i gazed at the mahdi's face i trusted in god and became at rest. patience, abdel kader, is the highest virtue. practise that, and god will reward you." the defeat of rashed bey awakened the government to a sense of the serious nature of the revolt, and an expedition was at once organised and placed under the command of yusef pasha shellali, who had greatly distinguished himself in gessi's campaign in bahr el ghazal, and was noted for his courage and resource. a reinforcement of a battalion of infantry and some volunteers, under the command of abdalla wad dafalla (the brother of ahmed wad dafalla), with abd el hadi and sultan dima, was also to be sent from kordofan. meanwhile the mahdi despatched letters in all directions, proclaiming his victories and his divine mission. he summoned all to join the jehad, giving the name of ansar[ ] to his followers, and promising them four-fifths of the booty taken in war (the remaining fifth he reserved for himself), while to those who should fall fighting for god and his religion he held out the certainty of the fullest enjoyment of the pleasures of paradise. thus did he pander to the main characteristics of the sudanese, viz., fanaticism and greed. yusef pasha shellali's force, which numbered some four thousand men, was composed of regular infantry under mohammed bey suleiman and hassan effendi rifki, whom i had previously discharged; the irregular cavalry were placed under the courageous shaigia melek, taha abu sidr, and leaving khartum on th march, , they proceeded to kowa, where they awaited the reinforcements expected from el obeid. abdalla wad dafalla, however, found it no easy matter to collect volunteers. there was a general feeling that it was wrong to fight against a man of piety, and, moreover, as the mahdi and his followers were little else than beggars, there was no enticement of rich plunder to allure them. besides all this, elias pasha, the richest merchant in kordofan and the ex-governor, was the deadly enemy of the dafalla family, and exercised all his influence, which was still considerable, in preventing men joining him. however, abdalla had agreed with the authorities to proceed, and, including regulars, the force with which he left el obeid numbered some two thousand men; and joining with the remainder at kowa, the entire expedition of six thousand strong proceeded to fashoda, which was reached in the middle of may. after a short rest, yusef pasha advanced west, and camped, on the evening of th june, at mesat, near jebel gedir, confident of success. why should such men as yusef pasha, mohammed bey, and abu sidr fear a starving crowd of sickly, half-famished, and almost naked arabs? had they not won victories on the white nile at duffilé? had they not conquered bahr el ghazal, and brought the proud sultans of darfur to submission? what could this ill-armed and ignorant fiki do? abdalla wad dafalla alone raised a note of warning that they should not underrate the danger. he had had a fall from his horse when marching out of el obeid, which is considered a bad omen in the sudan; but who was going to listen to this preacher in the wilderness? they did not even think it worth while to cut down a few thorn bushes to make a zariba, but merely picked up a little of the scrub lying close by, and formed a rough enclosure, utterly inadequate for defence; so the mahdi's sickly, half-famished, and almost naked arabs fell on yusef pasha's army in the early dawn of the th june. dashing through the slight inclosure, they were on the sleeping soldiers in a moment, and made short work of them. yusef pasha and abu sidr were killed in their night-shirts at the doors of their tents, and in a few minutes there was scarcely a man left alive. abu sidr's concubine rushed at her master's murderers, and shot two of them with a revolver; but she fell prone over his body, stabbed to the heart. abdalla wad dafalla, with a few of his attendants, alone made a short stand; but they soon shared the fate of their companions. when anything unusual happens in uncivilised countries, it is always considered by the natives as supernatural; and this was exactly the effect of yusef pasha's disaster on the credulous and superstitious minds of the sudanese. for sixty years the country had been governed by the turks and egyptians. if the tribes refused to pay their taxes, they were invariably punished; and no one dared to question for a moment the right of the authorities to do so. now this holy fiki, mohammed ahmed, had suddenly appeared on the scene. with a crowd of ill-armed and undisciplined men he had inflicted several crushing defeats on the well-armed and well-equipped government troops. there could now be no doubt he was the "mahdi el muntazer," the expected mahdi! the defeat of yusef pasha placed the whole of southern kordofan in his hands, and now he was in a position to make good his deficiencies. he had gained money, arms, horses, and loot of all sorts; and these he distributed amongst the chiefs of tribes who now flocked to him. they believed most firmly that he was the true mahdi, whose only intention was to uphold the faith, and who had no regard for wealth and property. the news of the mahdi's victories now spread far and wide; and, amongst an uneducated population such as that of kordofan, the accounts were exaggerated to a quite ridiculous extent. roused by the spirit of fanaticism, numbers of them quitted their homes, and marched to jebel gedir, which was now openly re-named jebel masa, while others, gathering round the local chiefs, prepared to fight against the various government posts and stations scattered throughout the country. this condition of affairs was eminently favourable to the ruling passions of the nomad arabs. under the cloak of a religious war, which owed its existence to them, they massacred, plundered, and robbed the natives who, they said, were loyal to the hated turks; and at the same time they shook themselves free from the taxation imposed on them by a government they detested. the mahdi now placed himself in communication with the merchants of el obeid, who, through their wealth and connection with the people, virtually ruled the town and a considerable part of the country. they thoroughly understood the situation. none knew better the weakness and effeteness of the government, and many were prepared to side with the mahdi. elias pasha was the chief amongst these malcontents, and detested ahmed bey dafalla, who was a great friend of mohammed pasha said. he was well aware that these two would, in the event of the defeat of the rebels, do him all the harm they could. elias pasha, therefore, employed himself actively in secretly collecting adherents for the mahdi. many of the less wealthy merchants anticipated better times should the government be overthrown, whilst there were not a few who, though disinclined to the mahdi, were driven to espouse his cause by the fear that, should he prove successful, their wives and property would fall into the hands of his victorious followers. as for the religious sheikhs, this movement was one which held out the highest prospects of promotion for them. they prided themselves that one of their number had successfully dared to proclaim himself a mahdi, and they looked to the time when he or his sons should drive out the hated turk, and rule the land. a few--only a very few--sensible people foresaw the danger which would threaten the country should the mahdi prove successful, and these did all they could to prepare the government for the coming storm; but their numbers were too small to have any effect. elias pasha now sent his son omar to acquaint the mahdi with the situation, and to beg him to come forthwith to el obeid; while mohammed pasha said, realising that this would undoubtedly be the next step, and deluded with the idea that the people would be prepared to stand a siege with him, began to dig an enormous ditch round the town, and, at the suggestion of ahmed bey dafalla, he put the government buildings in a state of defence, and built a parapet around them. his parsimonious ideas, however, led him into a grave error. instead of laying in large stores of corn, which the merchants, seeking only their own interests, were perfectly ready to provide, he refused to pay more than peace prices. it was, in consequence, rapidly bought up at a higher rate by those who were already beginning to feel the effects of the disturbed state of the country; and so he lost the favourable moment to buy. meanwhile, massacres in the districts were of almost daily occurrence. tax-collectors, detached military posts, and government officials fell an easy prey to the bloodthirsty arabs. the bederia tribe attacked and almost annihilated the inhabitants of abu haraz, which was a day's march distant from el obeid, and only a few men, women, and children succeeded in reaching the capital; the rest were all killed or taken prisoners during the flight along the waterless track. young girls were, of course, looked upon as valuable booty, and were given water by their captors; but the older women suffered the most horrible mutilation. arms and legs were ruthlessly cut off merely to gain possession of the bracelets and anklets they wore. a few days later, the town of ashaf, in northern kordofan, was attacked and plundered by the arabs, though a defence was made by nur angara, who was living there at the time, and who assisted sanjak mohammed agha japo, formerly one of gordon's kavasses. they were, however, eventually forced to retire on bara. this japo was an old kurdi, and during the retreat he performed prodigies of valour. collecting all the women and young girls in the centre of his square, he bade them sing songs of victory, saying that such music drove fear out of all hearts; and, making constant counter-attacks, he succeeded in bringing almost all the fugitives in safety to bara. this town was now attacked, and the arabs repulsed; but, collecting in greater numbers under sheikh rahma, they completely invested it, and cut off all supplies. a mass of arabs had also collected at kashgeil; and against these mohammed pasha said despatched a battalion of regulars, who succeeded in temporarily dispersing them; but, in doing so, the troops lost so heavily that virtually it was little short of defeat; and, collecting again, these arabs attacked birket, where the entire garrison of two thousand men was put to the sword. a similar disaster overtook the troops at shatt, on the white nile, where two hundred were massacred; but their subsequent attack on duem was repulsed, with a loss of two thousand men. meanwhile, the emissaries sent by the mahdi to the gezira had not been idle. the gehéna, agaliyin, hawazma, and hammada arabs, under abu rof, had attacked and invested sennar; but the town had been subsequently relieved by sanjak saleh wad el mek, who had been despatched thence with a large force of shaigia. the town of abu haraz, on the blue nile, had been invested by sherif ahmed taha; and giegler pasha, who was acting governor-general in place of rauf pasha, had arrived in the neighbourhood, and had directed melek yusef of the shaigia to attack the rebels with an inferior force, which was defeated. melek yusef, disdaining flight had got off his horse, and, seating himself cross-legged on his farwa (sheepskin), had ordered one of his slaves to kill him. giegler had at once proceeded to khartum, and, procuring reinforcements, had returned and attacked ahmed taha, who had been killed, and his head sent to khartum. he had then cleared the neighbourhood of sennar of rebels without suffering any serious loss. in spite, however, of these temporary successes, troubles increased, and the government daily received alarming accounts of the disasters which had overtaken troops and inhabitants in various parts of the country. in consequence, abdel kader pasha had been despatched to the sudan as governor-general. he had arrived at khartum on th may, , and had busily set to work to place the town in a state of defence. these measures had some effect on the natives, and it was evident to them that the government intended to act resolutely; but, at the same time, it was perfectly clear to them that these steps were not merely precautionary, but were rendered absolutely necessary by the very serious position of affairs. the arsenal and dockyard, ammunition stores, magazines, and government archives must be safeguarded against all eventualities. besides, one of the first acts of the new governor-general was to withdraw to khartum a portion of the garrisons of gallabat, senhit, and gera, in which districts there was at present complete tranquillity. meanwhile, mohammed ahmed fully realised that to kindle the smouldering fire into a blazing flame his presence was absolutely necessary. he therefore accepted elias pasha's invitation to come to el obeid, and, leaving his uncle, mahmud sherif, with a few followers, to look after his wives and children in jebel masa, he descended into the plains, and marched with his forces towards the wealthy capital of kordofan. chapter v. spread of the revolt in southern darfur. i arrive at dara--despatch of an officer to shakka--character of zogal bey--return to el fasher--causes of my unpopularity with the officers--disturbances at om shanga--the southern tribes join the revolt--i make dara my headquarters--the power of a woman's tongue--immorality of the maalia tribe--sheikh madibbo threatens shakka--cowardly conduct of mansur helmi--i proceed to his assistance--i commence my campaign against the southern arab tribes--the night attack on madibbo's camp--mansur helmi's cowardly retreat from shakka--he deserts his own men--courageous conduct of ali agha juma--i decide to retake shakka at all costs--difficulty of enforcing my orders. when i quitted el fasher for dara, early in , i was accompanied by three hundred and fifty mounted men under omar wad darho. this large escort was quite unnecessary, but i thought it advisable to show the arabs that the government had plenty of troops at its disposal to suppress any trouble on their part. on arrival at dara i visited poor emiliani's grave, and put up a stone to his memory. zogal bey was administering affairs here as acting-governor in his place, and the general aspect looked very troubled. the southern arab tribes--the rizighat, habbania, and maalia--were in revolt; they held constant meetings, in which it was declared that dervishes were flocking to the standards of the mahdi, who had been sent by god to raise the faith, and remove the oppression and tyranny of the hated officials; it was said that, armed merely with sticks, they had gained victory after victory over the government troops. emiliani, whom i had previously sent to shakka to report on affairs there, had been driven to distraction by the constant quarrels between madibbo and egeil wad el jangawi of the rizighat tribe, and had ended by discharging madibbo and replacing him by munzel, who had previously acted for many years as principal sheikh. madibbo, enraged at this insult, had joined his own section, the aulad mohammed, who had immigrated at that time towards the bahr el arab for pasture. i now sent letters to both madibbo and egeil, ordering them to keep their arabs well in hand and stop these meetings which were being held, and at the same time i instructed madibbo to come and see me and talk over his personal and tribal affairs. just at the time i was despatching these letters, news arrived that, owing to the disturbed state of shakka, the forty soldiers previously sent by emiliani to assist the sheikh in collecting the taxes had been obliged to turn back, and were now within two days' march of dara. i therefore ordered mansur effendi helmi to proceed at once to restore order with two hundred and fifty regulars and twenty-five horsemen, and instructed ismail wad barnu, who, it will be remembered, had been the intermediary between gessi and suleiman zubeir, to accompany him. at the same time i sent word to abakr, sultan of the begu tribe, who was thoroughly loyal, and particularly well acquainted with the rizighat country, to join the expedition. my instructions to mansur helmi were to act leniently with the arabs, but at the same time with such discretion that the interests of the government should not suffer. i gave him, however, full powers to put down disturbances by force if other means failed. he marched off _via_ kalaka, whilst i returned forthwith to el fasher to collect the various detachments of troops which were out in the district gathering taxes, and prepare for all eventualities. before leaving dara, i had a long and serious interview with zogal. i had known this man well when i had been governor here, and it had come to my ears that he and omar wad darho had had several talks about the mahdi and his doings, and had agreed that should he continue to be victorious they would join him. these two men were the richest officials in darfur, and exercised great influence in the country: their secession would have been very serious; i therefore thought my best plan was to show them great friendliness, and do all that was possible to avoid a breach occurring between us. in my conversation with him i therefore made no allusion to his meetings with darho, but confined myself to pointing out that he, being a relative of the mahdi and at the same time a high government official, it behoved him to support lawfully constituted authority to his utmost. i reminded him that he had been born in darfur and had been only an ordinary merchant, but that government had recognised his capacity and had given him one position after another, which he certainly could not hope his cousin the mahdi would be able to confer on him. i urged him not to be deluded by the exaggerated rumours he heard of the mahdi's prestige, and above all begged him to put aside all idea of his being credited with a divine mission. sooner or later, i said, the government must be victorious, and all those who had failed to support it in times of difficulty must expect severe punishment. i urged him to think of his women and children, who, by an ill-considered and thoughtless step on his part, might be placed in great difficulties; and i wound up by saying that i did not speak to him now as his official superior, but as to a friend who had worked together with me for long, and whose true interests i had at heart. i think zogal was favourably impressed by what i said; he admitted that as a relative of the mahdi he could not help being struck by all that was going on, but at the same time he was most grateful for the favours bestowed on him by government, and he would seize every opportunity to prove that he was truly loyal. when i asked him point blank whether he was in personal communication with the mahdi, he denied it, but showed me letters which the mahdi had written to several of the religious sheikhs, inciting them to revolt, which he had intercepted. on inquiry, i found that the bearer of these letters had confessed to the battalion commander that he had received them from the mahdi for distribution; i therefore ordered him to be tried by court-martial (the country being now subject to martial law). he was condemned to be shot, and in the interests of discipline i ordered the sentence to be carried out. in saying good-bye to the officers and officials, i pointed out the absolute necessity of strict attention to their duties, and told them i would return from el fasher as soon as possible; and, leaving the mounted troops in dara, i departed for the capital, where i arrived after three days' march. the first news received was that the telegraph-station at foga had been destroyed by the homr arabs, that the entire country in the neighbourhood of om shanga was unsettled, and that several people who were out in these districts collecting wood had been captured and enslaved by the arabs. om shanga was an important trade centre between el obeid and el fasher; it had a garrison of only sixty men, and as it contained some wealth, the arabs would in all likelihood attack it. i therefore ordered major hussein effendi maher to proceed thither with reinforcements of two hundred men and fortify the place, and i also instructed omar wad darho to advance towards it with three hundred horsemen, but at the same time i particularly warned him that the object of this expedition was to chastise the arabs, and that i considered their conduct sufficiently bad to warrant their being freely plundered. i thoroughly understood darho's disposition, and i was most anxious to create hostility between him and his men and the arabs, who were now the firm adherents of the mahdi, and thus by every means in my power prevent a coalition between them, which was the principal danger i feared. the postal system was now completely interrupted, and i was obliged to send any communications to el obeid and khartum concealed in hollowed-out lance-staves, between the soles of boots or sandals, or sewn into the bearer's clothing. the extra ammunition i had ordered when in khartum had, owing to the negligence of the officials, been delayed; it had reached el obeid late, and now, the roads being cut, it could be sent no further. the man despatched in charge of this ammunition was a certain mohammed pasha wad el imam, the wealthiest merchant in darfur, whom gordon had turned out of the country, together with his brothers, for malpractices; and no sooner did he arrive at el obeid than he joined the mahdi. also of the four hundred cavalry, mostly turks and egyptians, under the command of mohammed agha abu bala, destined for darfur, one hundred only had been sent on, and the remainder were retained at el obeid. i had therefore to make up my mind to do the best i could with the forces originally at my disposal in darfur. from the beginning i had enforced very strict discipline, and in consequence was not popular amongst the officers; they were inclined to pay little attention to the training of their men, and much preferred being sent to collect taxes, which, for them, was a very lucrative employment. in garrison they occupied themselves principally in building their houses and laying out their gardens, for which work they utilised the men under their command. i had at once put a stop to all this, and they had in consequence sent a petition to cairo, signed by almost all of them, complaining that i was in the habit of removing powder from the magazines, that i taxed their houses and gardens, and had appointed as police inspector a turkish sergeant in place of the officer i had discharged. but when the reply came from cairo to say that as governor-general of darfur i was responsible for all such matters, and had the authority to do what i thought just and right, they found they were powerless, and had to put as good a face as they could on what they were pleased to call my innovations. meanwhile major hussein maher and omar wad darho sent in messages that the rebels were collected near om shanga and i at once despatched orders to them to attack. from dara i learnt that madibbo on receiving my letter had refused to come, and had gone off to the mahdi at gedir instead; egeil, who was with his cattle on the bahr el arab, also refused to come. moreover, a certain thiran of the rizighat tribe and a relative of madibbo, who had formerly been employed as a government tax-collector, had murdered in cold blood two soldiers who happened to have gone to him; he had also attempted to seize by force some of sultan begu's cattle, but had been wounded in the fray, taken prisoner, and sent to el fasher for trial. he was found guilty, and i ordered his execution in the public market-place. there was now no doubt that all the southern tribes were in a state of active revolt, and had every intention of joining the mahdi; i therefore thought my headquarters should now be at dara; so, taking two hundred infantry and seventy-five of the newly arrived cavalry, i proceeded thither. on my arrival i heard some interesting details regarding the progress of mansur helmi's expedition. it appeared that on his way he had come across the om sureir section of the rizighat tribe, who had been implicated in a number of raids, had stolen a quantity of cattle, and had shown themselves generally hostile to government. mansur had seized the sheikhs; but the latter had offered him a large bribe, which he had unhesitatingly accepted, and in consequence had released them, and returned them the greater part of their cattle. on his arrival at shakka he had been attacked by some rizighat and maalia arabs, and though he had driven them off with ease, he had lost ali agha kanké, omar wad darho's uncle, a most courageous man. he now officially informed me that an extensive revolt on the part of the arabs was out of the question, and they were quite ready to serve the government loyally, if they received a full pardon for past offences. an incident, however, had occurred which, though in itself insignificant, led to very serious consequences. i previously mentioned that on my way to khartum i had been met by sheikh ali wad hegeir, of the maalia tribe, who had accompanied me there. he had proved loyal and faithful to the government, and i had appointed him chief of the southern maalia arabs. hearing that a meeting of the rizighat arabs under sheikh belal nagur, with a view to joining the mahdi, was about to be held, he resolved to attend the meeting and arrest this sedition-monger. accompanied by his father-in-law and a few of his friends, he presented himself at the meeting, and, seeing some of his own tribe amongst the number, he called on them to separate themselves from the rest and come to him. his summons was left unheeded, and a disturbance took place, in which hegeir and his friends, being far in the minority, were severely handled, and barely escaped with their lives. the news of the fray had, however, preceded them and had been distorted, so that on reaching their home hegeir was greeted by his wife with the words, "rageli hidlim wa abuyi rabta; safar yomein sawuhum fi gabta" (my husband is a male ostrich, and my father a female ostrich; they made a two days' journey in a moment). belal nagur, however, pursued the fugitives, and, joined by the maalia, attacked hegeir's house. the latter was urged by his friends to flee for protection to mansur at shakka; but, smarting under his wife's sarcastic verses he refused, saying, "i shall never fly to save my life. better is it to fall under the sword than to be laughed at by a woman." and, true to his word, he defended himself against fearful odds until a spear split his head in twain, and he sank down to die, repeating his creed with his last breath. his father-in-law fell dead close to him; and his wife, who was the cause of this sad catastrophe, and had thus lost husband and father, was captured and enslaved. mansur helmi, being now anxious to conclude arrangements with the tribes, begged that i should come to shakka, as, being the representative of government and well known to the arabs, i would have greater weight with them; he also expressed his opinion that a strong fort should be made in shakka, and manned with a couple of guns. as it was most important to conclude terms with the arabs, i resolved to comply with his request, and, taking one hundred and fifty regulars, twenty-five horsemen, and one gun, i started for shakka. meanwhile, i had received news from major hussein maher at om shanga that the new fort was nearing completion; and he enclosed a report from omar wad darho, in which the latter stated that he had attacked the arabs collected at el esefer, two days distant from om shanga, had defeated them after a hard fight, and had captured a few horses. the bearers of these letters, however, stated that he had captured a very large number; and this news gave me considerable satisfaction, for i knew that he would be now more anxious to fight against the rebels, since he had the prospect of taking possession of captured loot. i at once wrote back, congratulating him on his successful action, and telling him to do what he liked with the horses; but at the same time i gave him strict orders not to proceed further east than serna, and further south than el esefer, both of which places were within the kordofan frontier. i also gave him permission to fill up any casualties amongst his men by fresh recruits, if he could get them, provided he could depend on their loyalty; and i told him that if he continued to perform his duties satisfactorily i should not fail to recommend him to government for reward. on arrival at kalaka i was met by mohammed bey abu salama, one of the northern maalia sheikhs, who had been given the title of bey by gordon, and who was waiting to receive me with an escort of forty armed bazingers. he gave me the fullest information regarding the state of affairs in various parts of the country, and i knew i could implicitly rely on the statements of this faithful government servant. the southern maalia tribes are perhaps the most drunken and immoral people of those districts; they are held in the greatest contempt by the rizighat, habbania, messeria, and homr arabs, who are exceptionally moral and abstemious, and who never touch intoxicating drinks. the following anecdote relating to sheikh salama will best describe the peculiarities of these arabs: one day, happening to return home unexpectedly, he found his sister had admitted her lover to his angareb. he had her instantly put in chains; and when his friends expostulated with him for this treatment, which in their estimation was excessively harsh for so trivial an offence, he replied that he had no objection to his sister having a lover, but he protested against her making her brother's angareb the place of assignation, and thereby detract from his dignity as sheikh. abu salama with his bazingers and about fifty horsemen accompanied me as far as dem madibbo, which was this sheikh's usual summer resort; but it was now completely deserted, with the exception of a few slaves, who ran away at our approach. i camped within about a mile of this place, and made a zariba, having resolved to remain here until i received news from mansur helmi. i had not long to wait. he had told me that there was no prospect of trouble with the arabs, but that was when madibbo was absent; he had now returned from a visit to the mahdi in jebel gedir, laden with trophies and proofs of the success of the new prophet. he had been present when yusef pasha shellali had been annihilated, and he brought with him quantities of arms, ammunition, horses, and female slaves, with which the mahdi had presented him; he had also received from him a flag, which he had been told was accompanied by invisible angels, who would lead him to victory wherever he went. besides this, he brought numbers of proclamations, which he distributed broadcast. his tribe had no longer the slightest doubt that the government troops had been defeated, and he now summoned them to join in the jehad. obedient to his call, the rizighat tribes to the northeast and southeast of shakka flocked to the holy standard. but egeil still stood aloof; he could not forgive his quarrel with his rival, and resolved to remain neutral. in a few days madibbo had collected a force sufficiently strong to attack mansur. the latter had made a zariba at murrai, about half a day's march from shakka, and thither most of the merchants, with their wives and families, had fled for protection. early one friday morning madibbo with his hosts approached the zariba, and mansur, instead of waiting to be attacked, foolishly sent out rashed agha with one hundred and fifty regulars and two hundred of ismail wad barnu's, sultan abakr's, and the merchants' bazingers,--the whole under abder rasul agha, who had just joined from kalaka. he himself stayed behind in the zariba with the rest of the troops. rashed agha advanced boldly without any scouts to the place where madibbo was supposed to be, and the latter, dividing his men into three sections, ordered them to conceal themselves in the depressions of the ground and in the thick grass. the luckless troops saw too late the trap that had been laid for them. on a given signal the enemy attacked them in flank; they had only time to fire one volley, and the arabs were amongst them. a pitiless massacre ensued. sultan abakr and abder rasul alone escaped, through the fleetness of their horses, back to the zariba, and all the rest perished. mansur helmi, terrified at this sudden disaster, now completely lost hope; but wad barnu and abakr encouraged the troops not to despair, with the result that when the victorious madibbo attacked the zariba he was driven off with considerable loss. a messenger despatched by mansur under cover of darkness, brought me the sad news of the catastrophe. in his alarm he had greatly exaggerated madibbo's strength, and, consulting two of my most trusted officers, we decided that the best plan would be to send one hundred and fifty men and the gun to murrai, while the remainder of the troops should proceed to salama bey's settlement, whither reinforcements from dara would be instantly despatched, and from which place an advance on murrai could then be made. madibbo, who had originally a few hundred rifles, had now captured three hundred more, as well as a quantity of ammunition. i had at my disposal only one hundred and fifty regulars, and, despatching these with the gun and a further supply of ammunition loaded on twenty camels, to guard which i detailed forty men, i left myself with only one hundred and ten men. i wrote to mansur, instructing him that on the arrival of these reinforcements he should strengthen his position at murrai as much as possible, and await my arrival with the reinforcements ordered from dara. i thought it very unlikely that, having had one unfortunate experience outside the zariba, he would again risk leaving it; besides, i knew he had sufficient corn for some days. in my letter to zogal, ordering him to send more troops, i merely mentioned that mansur had suffered a slight reverse, as i greatly feared the effect of this bad news in dara; and i told him we were all well, and hoped to make a successful attack without delay. while at my zariba at deain, sheikh afifi wad ahmed of the habbania, accompanied by sheikhs khamis wad nenya and khudr wad girba, arrived with twenty horsemen, and gave me assurances of their loyalty to government. the subsequent exploits of afifi proved how true he was to his word. he told me frankly that the whole country was unsettled, and that almost all the tribes in the kalaka neighbourhood wished to join the mahdi. madibbo's prestige was no doubt greatly increased by his success against mansur; constant contact for years with the government had taught him a great deal and he was as capable as he was brave. learning that i was encamped with only a small force at deain, he very rightly decided to leave mansur alone and turn on me. one evening just before sunset, when my men were out collecting wood, we were suddenly attacked by madibbo's horsemen, who were seen in hundreds some distance off galloping towards the zariba. sheikh afifi instantly saddled his horse, mounted, and, standing before me with poised spear, shouted, "arifni zen! ana thor et tokash, abu galb min adem, ana bidaur el mot!" (you know me well! i am the pushing ox, the man who has a heart of bone. i seek death!) and with this he dashed out of the zariba, and, disappearing amongst the trees, returned in a few minutes, his spear dripping with blood, and leading after him a captured horse; the two other sheikhs and their men also had a slight skirmish, losing one horse and capturing another. in a few moments we heard some rifle shots, and fearing that madibbo's main body had arrived, i called the mounted arabs into the zariba and prepared for defence. however, i soon ascertained that a small party only had come, and had taken up a position in a clump of trees; i therefore sent fifty men to drive them out, and they retired, leaving behind them three killed. as it was now sunset, i summoned the sheikhs and officers, and explained that it was impossible to retreat now, as the camels carrying the ammunition would probably get frightened if we were attacked in the dark, and we should run the risk of losing them. it was better, i said, to wait till daylight, when we should in all probability be attacked, and that in view of madibbo's great superiority in numbers it was advisable for us to remain entirely on the defensive, and await a favourable opportunity to retire on dara. "under these circumstances," i said, "we shall not require the horses. do you, therefore, afifi, and your men leave us under cover of darkness, and return to your country, which you should be able to reach in safety. you will be more use to us there than cooped up in this zariba." after a short pause, afifi replied, "my life is in god's hands, and man cannot escape his destiny. if it is god's will that i should die here to-morrow, so be it; but this might equally happen on my way back, for god is almighty. i think it a shame to leave you, and i prefer death to a life of shame. this is my opinion, and i have spoken it." no sooner had afifi concluded, than the habbania arabs, in one voice, shouted that they were all of the same opinion; and such a noise did they make that i was obliged to tell them the enemy would probably hear them. being quite unable to make them change their minds, i agreed that they should remain till the following day. i now ordered the ditch inside the zariba to be deepened, to give more cover from the bullets, and the men worked hard all night. at dawn the next morning, the outposts reported a man in the distance waving a white flag, and on giving orders that he should be allowed to approach, i found him to be sheikh ishak el abd, of the rizighat tribe, and i went outside the zariba to confer with him. saluting, he handed me a letter from madibbo, which my arabic clerk now read to me; it was very long and bombastic, but not unfriendly in tone. he summoned me to submit, gave a full account of the defeat and death of yusef pasha shellali, of which he himself had been an eye-witness, and then told me how he had been victorious over mansur helmi. he urged me, on his word as a former official and my friend, to believe in the truth of what he said, and then declared that, having seen the mahdi with his own eyes, he had now not the smallest doubt that he was a man sent from god, and that all who resisted him must perish miserably. turning to my old friend ishak, i laughingly asked him what he thought about it. "master," said he, "i have eaten bread and salt with you, and therefore i will not deceive you: the whole country is in revolt, and every one says he is the true mahdi. if you intend to submit to madibbo, i can guarantee that you need have nothing to fear." "never!" was my short reply. "i shall never lay down my arms to an arab. go to madibbo, and tell him that battle must decide between us!" "master," answered ishak, "i will not deceive you; every word i have said is true. i, personally, shall not fight against you; but my tribe is no longer under control." "it is all the same to me," i replied, "whether you fight against me or not; one man alone cannot make much difference one way or the other." i then shook hands with him, and bade him good-bye. pressing my hand, he said, "if one day i am forced to fight you, i will let you know," and, mounting his horse, he was in a few minutes out of sight. returning to the zariba, i now made all preparations for the impending struggle. amongst the refugees with us was a greek named alexander, who had come to shakka with two camel-loads of spirits and clothing, which he expected to sell at an enormous profit at shakka: also a certain ali wad fadlalla, with ten bazingers, had joined us. he was a man i had long since discharged from the mamurship of kalaka; but he expected in this way to re-establish himself in my good graces. seeing the plight we were in, these two worthies did nothing but bemoan the ill luck which had brought them to my zariba. scarcely two hours had elapsed since ishak had left, when, through my field-glasses i saw the enemy advancing. i at once sounded the "alarm," and every one went to his post. the attack came from the northwest, where there was a small wood which gave considerable cover. in the centre of our zariba was a mound, on the top of which i placed an old bench found in one of madibbo's huts, and which an egyptian had turned into a chair. seated in this position, i obtained a good view of the surrounding country, as well as of all that was going on in the zariba. the enemy now advanced within rifle-range, and the bullets began to whistle about our ears. getting up from the chair to give some order and have a better view, a shot whizzed past and struck the back of the chair in which i had just been sitting, and shivered it to pieces. after this, i thought it advisable to take up a less-exposed position. the enemy's fire now became very hot, but the men were well protected in the trenches, and our loss was trifling. the horses and camels, however, suffered severely; and feeling that if kept huddled up in the zariba we might lose them all, i selected fifty men and, making a sortie from the southern entrance, we turned west, and, opening suddenly on the enemy's flank, inflicted considerable loss on him by a murderous cross-fire, eventually driving him from the position. however, we did not secure this success without paying for it. as far as i can recollect, we lost twelve killed, including fadlalla, and the greek alexander was amongst the wounded. discussing the situation with my officers, it was decided that if the enemy attacked us the following day and we succeeded in repulsing him, we should be prepared to act offensively. we had some suspicion, too, that sheikh abu salama was inclined to revolt; his conduct had undoubtedly altered considerably of late. the day's experience had the effect of making the men deepen their trenches and heighten their breastworks, thus affording better protection to themselves and the animals. by the evening, thoroughly tired out, most of them had dropped off to sleep, and we anticipated a quiet night. but at about eleven o'clock we were startled by a brisk rifle-fire. fortunately it was a very dark night, and the fire was ill-directed. so i ordered the men not to reply, and in consequence it slackened, and eventually ceased altogether. summoning sheikh afifi, i now asked him to send out some of his men to discover madibbo's position, promising them they would be well rewarded if they brought back reliable information. in about two hours they returned, and reported that madibbo was in his village with his bazingers, while the arabs were encamped to the south and west of it. they were in considerable force, but had taken no precautions for defence, and our spies, who had crept up quite close to their camp-fires, had overheard them laughing and joking at our not having replied to their fire, saying we must have been too frightened to do so. waiting for half an hour, i called up seventy men, and told them, before the officers, i wanted them to surprise madibbo's camp; that if we fought an action in the open against superior numbers, we should probably lose heavily; but we had now ascertained the arabs were quite unprepared, and a sudden night attack might completely demoralise them, and give us a chance of returning to dara for reinforcements. the plan was thoroughly approved, and all the officers at once volunteered to join; but this i could not permit. so, leaving behind two officers, four buglers, and seventy men, i quitted the zariba, accompanied by afifi, who refused to leave me. suspecting that possibly some of abu salama's people might get out and betray us, i gave the officers who remained behind strict injunctions that during our absence no one should leave the zariba, and that a most careful lookout should be kept; and advancing cautiously, guided by the spies, in the space of about an hour we found ourselves close to the enemy's camp. our spies proved thoroughly trusty; and, besides, i had previously travelled in these districts, and knew the country well. dividing up, therefore, into two parties, i placed one under the command of a very brave officer named mohammed agha suleiman, a native of bornu, and leading the other party myself, we crept up to within six or seven hundred yards of the unsuspecting foe, when i ordered the bugler to sound "commence firing." the confusion in the enemy's camp was now indescribable. madibbo's bazingers, leaving their arms, fled. the horses, terrified by this sudden commotion in the dead of night, became restive, broke their ropes, and bolted in all directions, chased by the arabs. in a few minutes every one of madibbo's huts was deserted, and in the distance could be heard the sounds of the terrified crowds, fleeing from our little band of seventy men. we had been completely successful, and it took madibbo some days before he could collect his men again. i burnt his village, and the blazing flames, shooting to the sky, lighted up the deserted camp. only two of my men had been wounded by thrown spears. we captured a large number of saddles, which i ordered to be thrown into the flames, as well as a quantity of old guns and matchlocks; but we kept the forty remington rifles taken, and now marched back to the zariba, where we had a most enthusiastic welcome from the others, who had been awaiting our return with great anxiety. i gave the order to move at sunrise the next morning. the entire neighbourhood was deserted, and during our five hours' march to bir delwei we met no one. here, however, we were caught up by some rizighat horsemen, who had followed us with the evident intention of finding out if we were really quitting the district. afifi, catching sight of them, was after them in a moment, and, severely wounding madibbo's cousin, isa feisal, he captured his horse. we now continued to march forward as rapidly as possible, hoping soon to meet the reinforcements which should have started by this time from dara for the relief of mansur helmi. at midnight we reached kelekle, where i resolved to give the exhausted men a good rest. here, under the pretext of telling his tribe to drive their cattle out of the rizighat districts towards the north, sheikh abu salama left us; but as he did not return the next morning, and as it was reported by some men i had sent out after him that he and his family, taking all their property with them, had left for the south, i had no doubt he had gone to join the rebels. having still no news from dara, i did not deem it advisable to wait longer, so continued my march north, and reached that town by noon the following day. i found the reinforcements and ammunition all ready to leave, and as the men i had brought back were tired, i determined to change them also, and return with a completely fresh force to help mansur helmi; but to my surprise, at daybreak the next morning, i received a letter from ismail wad barnu, saying that he and mansur were on their way to dara, and would arrive the following day. this was to me most unsatisfactory news, for it meant that my difficulties in re-occupying shakka would be considerably increased. the next morning they arrived, accompanied by a few slaves, who were ready to drop down with fatigue. calling up mansur before a council of officers, i asked him officially, in writing, why he quitted his post without orders, and he replied that he was too tired to answer. i then called on ismail wad barnu for a full explanation, and he stated as follows: "having despatched the messenger to you with the news of our disaster, we hourly expected you to arrive. when the messenger returned, reporting that you were retiring on dara for reinforcements, and that madibbo was on the point of attacking you, we gave way to despair. our corn was finished, and we had no means of procuring any more supplies. we therefore made up our minds to take to flight." "but," said i, "where are the camels carrying ammunition and rockets? and where are all the merchants and their families who came to you for protection? there were some hundreds of you; and now you are only fifteen." "we loaded the ammunition and rockets on the camels," replied mansur, nervously, "and they and the merchants started the same time as we did; but we got separated on the march." "what!" said i, in a tone of wonder, "how could heavily laden camels become separated from horsemen? only in one way: they move slowly, and you have deserted them in your terror. how long did you take to come here?" by this time mansur had worked himself into such a state of nervous excitement that he had become incoherent. i therefore again called on wad barnu to complete this painful narrative. "we left the zariba three days ago," said he. "three days!" i said. "and yet you say that the camels separated from you. it is a seven days' march between murrai and dara. you are a civil official, ismail, and joined this expedition by my orders. you need not be afraid. tell me now, truthfully, why you left the others?" "master," said ismail, who had by this time regained confidence, "when we heard that you were waiting for reinforcements from dara, we held a consultation, and decided that, as we had only a small quantity of supplies left, we should abandon the position and come here. mansur effendi, being our chief, gave the order to march three hours before sunset. we loaded up the camels, and, with the merchants, their wives and children, all left the zariba together. the marching of so many of us made a great noise; and fearing that the enemy would hear it, mansur called me up, and suggested that we should go on ahead, and that ali agha guma, who was in command of the fifty men escorting the ammunition, should follow on and catch us up. at dawn the next morning we halted for some time, and at length abder rasul agha arrived, reporting that he too had got separated from the caravan during the night. master, where is the heart without fear? as the merciful and almighty god had delivered us, so we believed he would deliver the others; therefore we hurried on. master, make allowance for us. remember that we lost relatives and slaves in the battle, and that i am married and the father of children!" mansur listened to this confession in silence. i frequently called upon him to say anything which would justify his conduct; but his only excuse was that the ammunition column did not arrive at the appointed rendezvous, and that as he himself had so few men, he did not think it wise to go in search of them, and had therefore continued his march. i now directed the senior officer present to take mansur's sword from him, to keep him in close arrest at the headquarter guard, and to take down in writing a full deposition of what had occurred. meanwhile i sent off spies in all directions to discover the whereabouts of the column, and for the moment abandoned all idea of an expedition to shakka. seven days later i received the joyful news that the column had safely arrived at toweisha with almost all the merchants and their families, and as, up to the present, no disturbances had taken place in that district, the latter had asked permission to remain there. three days afterwards the column was reported to be within an hour's march of dara. i therefore rode out at the head of the whole garrison to meet them, and marched them in with all honours. on their arrival they were publicly entertained, and i gave all the non-commissioned officers a step, and promoted fifteen of them, who were specially recommended by ali agha guma, to the rank of officer. ali agha now related the following. "in accordance with mansur effendi's orders, we loaded up the camels and started; the merchants, with their women and children, who had not been informed, now made a great commotion, and insisted on coming with us; the poor people well knew that if they remained behind they could expect no mercy from the arabs. mansur effendi, alarmed at the noise, and fearing that the enemy might come down on us, was chiefly concerned about the safety of his own person, and therefore started off, directing me to catch him up the following morning. now, how was it possible for me in a bushy, trackless region, with heavily laden camels, to catch up a man flying on a horse? i hurriedly collected the soldiers and the merchants, and told them that i proposed to march towards goz el maalia, and in this roundabout way, please god, we should avoid the enemy and reach home safely. i knew that the country round goz el maalia was open, and that if attacked we should be able to defend ourselves better than in the enclosed country through which we were now marching. i knew that we were quite strong enough to force our way through the maalia tribe, and therefore, repeating the 'fatha' [the moslem creed] and asking the almighty to protect us, we marched in a northeasterly direction, camels and women in the centre. thank god, the darkness of the night helped us to pass through the enemy's country unobserved, and by sunrise we had reached the southwestern boundary of the maalia country. here we made a short halt, but did not dare to stay long. we made the merchants' wives act as camel-drivers, and those who were ill and the children we mounted on camel-back on the top of the ammunition-boxes; in this way we managed to have about one hundred men with rifles as escort. we had sufficient corn for three or four days, and instead of water we quenched our thirst with the juice of the water-melons, which grew in abundance. at noon we were attacked by some rizighat horsemen who had been joined by some maalia; but by god's help, who forsakes not those in distress and danger, we drove them off, killing a few horses and men. although utterly exhausted, we did not dare to halt till sunset; and, surrounding ourselves with a light zariba, we passed a quiet night, and started off again at sunrise the next morning. the enemy, being joined by some revolted villagers, again attacked us; but god gave us strength and courage, and we drove them off, and at length, after eight days' hard marching, we reached toweisha safe and sound. the merchants and their wives and children left us there full of gratitude, and we thank the merciful god who has brought us unhurt out of all these dangers." "i also thank god," said i, "that you are safe; i was greatly concerned about you. but tell me how goes it at toweisha? how is the chief of the district, abo bey el bartawi?" "he himself seems loyal to government," he replied, "but his people have begun to get disaffected, and sooner or later, if good news is not received from kordofan, he will join the rebels; at present, however, the om shanga garrison keeps him quiet." i now publicly thanked ali agha guma for his valuable services and for his forethought and bravery, and ordered his promotion from second to first lieutenant, writing to cairo for confirmation. this plucky officer was a native of the tagalla mountains, and had been trained as a soldier in cairo. as there was no officer of mansur helmi's rank in dara, i sent him under escort to fasher, with instructions to said bey guma to deal with his case in accordance with the written depositions; at the same time i told him to send me two hundred infantry, also some ammunition and lead. meanwhile, i ascertained that madibbo had returned to deain, rebuilt his village, and concluded an offensive and defensive alliance with sheikh abu salama. on the day i arrived in dara i sent back the faithful and brave afifi to kalaka. he was very anxious not to go; but i told him that should his tribe revolt, he had permission to bring his wife and children to dara; in the meantime he had better be with his people. in order to dissipate any idea on the part of the rebels that i intended to sit down quietly and watch events, i despatched ali effendi esmet with one hundred and eighty regulars to hashaba, two days' march south of dara,--one of abu salama's villages,--with orders to wait there till i had collected my forces. the news from the om shanga district was satisfactory. omar wad darho, with his four hundred horsemen, succeeded in keeping the arabs under; he had several skirmishes, and once or twice some losses, but on the whole he was successful. the continual strides now made by the revolt in kordofan made postal communication more difficult than ever; all i could do was to send short cypher messages, very few of which ever reached their destination. one of my principal objects in keeping darho at om shanga was that, in the event of the troops in kordofan being successful, he could advance east, and, combining with them, reopen the post-road. zogal bey, who was with me in dara at this period, was performing his duties in a satisfactory manner. he was opposed to my getting reinforcements from el fasher, saying i need not be so mistrustful; however, there was no doubt he had received letters from his relative, the mahdi, but i do not think he answered them in writing: in fact, affairs in darfur were not altogether unsatisfactory, and he was now certainly more careful and attentive to his duties. during my stay here i did my utmost to collect bazingers, and by promises to the gellabas i succeeded in getting many of them to place their servants at the disposal of the government. i also utilised the services of an old officer named abdel kader wad asi, who had formerly commanded the irregular cavalry in dara, to collect as many horses as he could; and in a few days he got together upwards of one hundred and fifty. meanwhile i had written to sultan abakr el begawi--head-sheikh of berket--and to the messeria and other tribes, to get ready and follow me to shakka. some of these readily obeyed the call; and as to those who hesitated, i did all i could, by working up tribal jealousies, to increase the ill-feeling between them and our enemies. abder rasul agha, who had fled from murrai with mansur helmi, i had imprisoned; but as he had on previous occasions shown capacity, and as my available officers were getting scarce, i released him, and put him in command of the bazingers who were to remain behind in dara, and told him to do all he could to procure more. most of the arms in store at dara were old double-barrelled guns, flintlocks, and a few damaged remingtons; these i had roughly repaired, and distributed to the bazinger recruits. i had not much ammunition, and urgently ordered more to be sent from el fasher. about a fortnight later, one hundred regulars duly arrived under said bey el fula, a brave sudanese, who brought me letters from said bey guma. in these, my representative at the capital informed me that he could not send the ammunition, as he had no camels, and if he took them by force from the people, he feared the result; as soon as he could procure camels he would send me the ammunition and the other hundred men. in reply to this i wrote back somewhat shortly that the despatch of the ammunition was an urgent necessity, and that if he could not obtain the camels from the arabs, he must get them from the officers and employés on payment; i told him that i had to do this in dara, as there were no other camels available in southern darfur. it was perfectly clear to me that orders sent to el fasher were not carried out with expedition. it was useless to waste more time; i therefore quitted dara,--leaving behind an adequate garrison,--and set off for hashaba, where it had been arranged the various friendly tribes would meet me. chapter vi. the siege and fall of el obeid. said pasha, governor-general of kordofan, prepares to defend el obeid--the mahdi attacks the town, but is repulsed with great loss--the missionaries at delen fall into the mahdi's hands--the siege and fall of bara--the horrors of the siege of el obeid--said pasha is forced to surrender--his interview with the mahdi--the search for treasure--the mahdi's miracles--effect of the fall of el obeid on the general situation. inspired by his numerous victories, and encouraged by elias pasha's urgent appeal that he should proceed to el obeid, the mahdi left gedir, and, joined by thousands upon thousands of fanatical arabs and slave-hunters, he advanced to kaba, a village on the outskirts of the town. from here he despatched horsemen to reconnoitre and summon all those who were willing to join his banners. he also wrote to mohammed pasha said, calling on him to submit. his letter was read out before the officers; and at the suggestion of mohammed bey skander and the majority of the officers the bearers of the letters were sentenced to be shot. said pasha himself was averse to this decision, but eventually gave way and confirmed the sentence, which was immediately carried out. the secret emissaries were more successful; they had an easier task amongst the local population many of whom really believed in the mahdi, and those who did not, well knew the weakness of the government and the very critical state of affairs. besides, as i have already related, the hostility of elias pasha to said pasha and ahmed bey dafalla had the effect of bringing over to the rebels the majority of the civil officials and principal merchants,--consequently, in a few days the bulk of the population moved bodily out of the town and joined the mahdi. the latter had previously written to them that they had only to shut up their houses and leave all their property as it was, and when he entered the town he would guarantee that nothing should be touched. these injunctions they obeyed implicitly, taking with them, or burying in the ground, their money only. on ahmed bey's advice, said pasha had divided up the town in such a manner that the evacuation of a large part of it by the merchants and others would not seriously affect the question of its defence; and he at once ordered the soldiers to collect all the corn they could find in the houses and store it in the citadel,--an operation which was carried out with considerable alacrity, and full advantage was taken of the occasion to freely loot the dwellings of the trustful populace, who had counted somewhat prematurely on the mahdi's protective powers. minni, of the gowama arabs, also freely pillaged the deserted town. mohammed ahmed now spared no effort to rouse the fanatical spirit of the masses by whom he was surrounded. he preached day and night to a rapt audience on the heavenly joys in store for all those who joined the jehad, and on friday morning, september the th, this seething mass of human beings, armed only with swords and spears, rolled like the waves of the sea towards the town. all the arms taken in rashed's and shellali's expeditions had been left behind at jebel gedir, and the rifle fire of the defenders soon began to play with deadly effect on the crowd, who, utterly undeterred, and seeking only for blood and plunder, continued their advance, swarming into the ditches and up the parapet, and entering the deserted town. at this critical moment major nesim effendi told his bugler to sound the advance; and the signal being taken up by the other buglers, the soldiers, clambering up on to the tops of the walls and houses, brought a murderous fire to bear on the assailants. slowly the surging mass, under this hail of lead, was driven back, leaving behind them thousands of killed and wounded. once more they rallied and attempted again to storm; but again were they driven back with still greater slaughter, till at length the survivors retired out of range, and the gallant garrison was completely victorious. in this assault the mahdi's brother mohammed, khalifa abdullahi's brother yusef, the kadi, and a host of emirs were killed. the mahdi himself, during the attack, took up a position out of range, behind a small house; and had said pasha taken ahmed bey dafalla's advice to pursue after the dervishes had been routed, in all probability he would have been taken, and the subsequent bloodshed and horrors thus avoided. but said pasha contented himself with this temporary success, believing that the mahdi was too crushed to again attempt an attack, and that this defeat would probably destroy his influence. the mahdi's relatives and near friends also realised this, and on their advice he removed his camp to gianzara, a hill lying beyond range to the northeast of the town; and in this position maintained an open investment, while awaiting the arrival of the arms and ammunition for which he had sent to jebel gedir. the mission station at delen, which had been founded some eight years before, and which was guarded by eighty men of the slave guard, had long been in a critical position. whilst on his way to el obeid, the mahdi had sent one of his adherents, mek omar, with instructions either to capture or kill all persons found there. the missionary fathers, joseph ohrwalder and luigi bonomi, had arranged to flee with the troops and all the mission to fashoda; but their plan fell through, owing to the cowardice of the captain commanding the troops. they were eventually obliged to submit, were robbed of all they had, and were marched as prisoners to el obeid. here the mahdi and khalifa abdullahi made every effort to convert them and the sisters who were with them; but they remained firm. the following day they were taken, accompanied by thousands of howling dervishes, to an open space where a great review was held. after momentarily expecting death, they were at length told their lives were spared, and they were handed over to the care of a syrian named george stambuli, who had joined the mahdi from el obeid. at this time a most wonderful comet appeared, which was taken by the sudanese as a sign from heaven that the government was about to be overthrown, and that the true mahdi had appeared on earth. an expedition sent under ali bey lutfi to relieve bara and el obeid, when on the march and suffering from thirst, was attacked by the gowama arabs under fiki rahma, and of the two thousand men of which it was composed, two hundred only succeeded in escaping to bara. soon after this tayara was attacked, and its little garrison, after resisting manfully, was obliged to submit at the end of september. bara fell next, after a long and well-sustained siege. the garrison had inflicted considerable loss on the rebels, but a fire had broken out and burnt up almost all the corn. hunger and disease had done their work, and, hopeless of any succour, surur effendi, the commandant, nur angara, and mohammed agha japo, at the urgent request of the garrison, were forced to submit early in january, , to abderrahman wad en nejumi, and were conducted by him to gianzara. on arrival here they received the mahdi's pardon, and surur effendi, who was an abyssinian by birth, but a particularly religious moslem, was allowed by the mahdi to have back a portion of his confiscated property; nur angara, being a dongolawi, was also well received; and japo, whose exploits during the retreat from ashaf had reached the mahdi's ears, was given back one of his own horses. the troops, who were all blacks, were made over to khalifa abdullahi, who subsequently transferred them to hamdan abu anga, who was made emir of the force. the astute japo was not slow to show devotion to his new master, and begged for his blessing and for permission to get married, as hitherto he had lived a single life. the mahdi, flattered that an old and irreligious man like japo should show such complete submissiveness to his will, at once granted his request. a few days later, however, japo came before the mahdi with a very sorrowful face, and told him that the money he had given him for his marriage had been spent to no purpose, as he had divorced his wife. "what!" said the mahdi, "why should you have done this? is she not pretty, or has she a bad character?" "no," said japo, "she has a far more serious fault: when i tell her to say her prayers, she refuses to do so; and a wife who does not pray is an abomination to me." so delighted was the mahdi with his supposed conversion that he gave japo a large sum of money to get married again, and presented him with sufficient means to keep him from want for a long time. some years later, after the mahdi's death, i met mohammed japo in omdurman, and i laughingly reminded him of this story. "yes," said he, "in spite of all the harm and evil done by the mahdi, he was not, after all, such a bad man,--one could get something out of him; but i pity the man who relies on khalifa abdullahi's benevolence." japo was quite right. the mahdi celebrated the capture of bara with a salute of one hundred guns, and the unfortunate garrison of el obeid, hearing the sounds, thought that a relieving army was approaching; but when they learnt that bara had fallen, they became greatly disheartened. for months they had been suffering all the horrors of famine; food had risen to fabulous prices; no steps had been taken to lay in a stock of provisions, and there was a great scarcity of corn. a month before the capitulation dukhn had risen to four hundred dollars the ardeb; only the most wealthy could supply themselves with a little meat. the price of a camel rose to fifteen hundred dollars, a chicken might be had for thirty or forty dollars, and an egg for a dollar to a dollar and a half. but my comrades in captivity, fathers ohrwalder and rosignoli, have already described the horrors of that long and terrible time, and i need not repeat them here; suffice it to say that after a five months' siege, during which the most terrible privations were endured, and in which a very large proportion of the remaining population and garrison died of starvation, mohammed pasha said was at last forced to capitulate. he wished to blow up the powder magazine; but the officers begged that their wives and children might be spared, and he was obliged to give way. he therefore wrote to the mahdi that he was prepared to surrender the town. the mahdi replied that he and his officers need have no fear, and the following morning sent a deputation of leading merchants, under mohammed wad el areik to said pasha, with instructions that he, the superior officers of the garrison, and the chief merchants should present themselves before him. the deputation had brought with them jibbas (the patched shirt adopted as a uniform by the followers of the mahdi), which had now to be worn, and, mounting on horses, the sad cavalcade, led by said pasha, filed out of the fort which they had defended so long and bravely. with him were mohammed bey skander, the commandant, major nesim effendi, ahmed bey dafalla, mohammed bey yasin, and several other officers. seated on his angareb, on which a goat's skin was spread, the mahdi received them kindly, gave them his hand to be kissed, and pardoned them. he told them that he of course understood they had been deceived in regard to him, having doubted his divine mission; but that he forgave them, and now required them to take the solemn oath of allegiance, and complete submission to him and the cause. this formality over, he gave them dates and water, and urged them to renounce the pleasures of this world, and think only of the world to come. turning to said pasha, he then said: "i do not blame you as a turk for having done all you could to defend the post confided to you; but you did not do well to kill my messengers, for it is not right that messengers should be punished." before said pasha could reply, skander bey quickly answered, "master and mahdi, said pasha did not do this, but it was i, in my capacity as commandant of the fort, who ordered the execution, as i considered them rebels, and in this i did not do well, as you truly say." "i did not mean by my question to ask you to justify yourself," said the mahdi. "my messengers have obtained what they most desired; when they took the letters from me they sought the death of martyrs, and their wish was fulfilled. the merciful god has granted them their hearts' desire, and now they are in the enjoyment of all the pleasures of paradise. may god grant that we may follow in their footsteps." during this conversation, according to a plan prepared beforehand, abu anga and his men had occupied the fort, powder-magazine, and government buildings, whilst the emirs installed themselves in the officers' quarters. the mahdi now told wad el areik, who happened to be a personal friend of said pasha, to take him and his officers back to their houses; but on their return they found them occupied, and were given to understand that their property had now been confiscated. soon afterwards the mahdi himself entered the town to inspect it, and ordered the garrison to quit the entrenchments. the women and children, who had so patiently waited for relief, were now ordered out to the mahdi's camp, and were allowed to take nothing with them. even the women were searched to the skin, in a most revolting manner, and anything found was instantly taken off to the beit el mal (mahdi's treasury), where the property was subsequently distributed amongst the emirs and other high personages. in searching for gold and treasure the most heart-rending scenes were enacted, and weeping and wailing was heard on all sides, as the unfortunates were flogged to make them disgorge. said pasha himself was called upon by ahmed wad suleiman, the mahdi's emin beit el mal (or treasurer), to hand over all his money; but he replied that he had none. it was well known that he was a very wealthy man, but he obstinately denied he had anything. when the mahdi heard this, he instructed wad suleiman to make every inquiry of said pasha's servants; and while he was occupied in doing this, the mahdi continued conversing with said pasha on the precepts of religion, and frequently asked him, before the assembled masses, why he refused to disclose the hiding-place of his treasure, and said pasha as persistently denied that he had any money whatever. in this way some time passed, and at length wad suleiman, who had meanwhile succeeded in getting one of the female servants to admit that her master had concealed the treasure in the wall, returned to the mahdi, and whispered in his ear that they had found it. the latter, beckoning him to sit down, continued to talk of the vanities of this world, and the great necessity of renouncing them; and then, turning suddenly to said pasha, he said, "you swore a most solemn oath of allegiance; why, then, do you refuse to say where your money is? money is the root of all evil. do you now expect to gather more riches?" "oh, sire," replied said pasha, "i have neither money made honestly, nor money made dishonestly; do with me what you like." "do you take me for an ordinary man?" replied the mahdi. "do you not understand that i am truly the 'mahdi el muntazer,' and that the prophet has revealed to me the hiding-place of your treasure, which you have concealed in the wall of your house? go, ahmed wad suleiman, to his house. enter his room, and on the left side, near the door, remove the plaster from the wall, and there you will find the turk's treasure. bring it here." during wad suleiman's absence said pasha sat disconsolately, close to the mahdi, frowning deeply. he knew his treasure had been discovered, but he was too proud to admit that he had told an untruth, and he refused to join in the conversation. in a few minutes suleiman returned, dragging behind him a large tin box, which he placed before the mahdi, who opened it, and found it full of gold, packed up in small bags. over £ , was counted out. "mohammed said," said the mahdi, "you have told a lie; but i will forgive you. ahmed, take the money to the beit el mal, and distribute it amongst the poor and needy." "you, who preach renunciation, have now got my money; do what you like with it," said said pasha, turning on his heel and marching off. the mahdi, frowning darkly, muttered, "di ma biyenfa maana" (this man won't do for us). said pasha turned to ahmed bey dafalla, who had witnessed this scene, and the mahdi then addressed the latter in the following words: "do not follow in the footsteps of your old friend; he has an obstinate disposition. be honest and true to me, and i will give you all you require. i secretly warned your brother abdalla, but it was god's will he should be overthrown. he blindly espoused the cause of god's enemies, the turks, and fought against me. the merciful god has destroyed them. they were blown like chaff before the wind, and are now suffering all the torments of hell-fire. ahmed, save your soul while you may. be faithful to me, and when this life is over you shall enjoy the everlasting pleasures of paradise, and god will receive you into his heavenly kingdom." "oh, mahdi," said ahmed wad dafalla, "i shall certainly not enter the heaven in which my brother abdalla is not." and with that he rose and left the meeting. not a word did the mahdi say, but it seemed to be quite understood that his sentence had been pronounced. signing to his followers that the meeting was over, the latter now lost no time in complying with their master's wishes, which, though unexpressed, they well understood. in a few minutes it was known far and wide that the cursed turk, mohammed said, had refused to disclose the hiding-place of his treasure, but that the prophet had revealed it to the mahdi. for some days tongues never ceased talking of this wonderful miracle; and far and wide spread mohammed ahmed's repute as the true mahdi, sent from heaven to destroy the hated turk. directions were now given to supply said pasha, ahmed bey, ali sherif, and the other officers with their beds, cooking-pots, clothing, and some money, until the prophet further revealed to the mahdi what he should do with his prisoners. mohammed ahmed now occupied himself in writing letters and proclamations to all parts of the sudan, announcing the capture of el obeid, and enjoining on all the necessity of activity and endurance in the great religious war which had now spread over the country. he called on the faithful to renounce the pomps and vanities of this world, and to think and work only for the joys to come. he also issued very stringent regulations against smoking and drinking, imposing terrible penalties on any one found wilfully disobeying. special instructions were also issued regarding marriage ceremonies, dowries, etc., and every effort was made by the mahdi to follow the example set by the prophet in his early wars. chapter vii. vain efforts to stem the tide of mahdism in darfur. i advance on shakka--the battle of om waragat--besieged in the zariba--my retreat on dara through the enemy's country--the illness and death of gottfried rott--i despatch secret emissaries to kordofan--my difficulties with the el fasher garrison--the revolt of the mima arabs--i learn of the fall of el obeid--the death of sheikh afifi--my campaign against the mima and khawabir arabs--discovery of a plot amongst the troops in dara--my officers and men ascribe our defeats to the fact that i am a christian--i decide to nominally adopt the mohammedan religion--i decide to send zogal bey to el obeid--my campaign against the beni helba--beshari bey seeks death and finds it--gravity of the situation in darfur. having reached hashaba, i now did my utmost to organise a force capable of operating successfully against madibbo. i had succeeded in getting the gellabas either to join me themselves or give me their bazingers. i called on zogal bey and his brother for help, and between them they collected two hundred of their bazingers. i myself had also collected a number of blacks, some of whom i had freed, and others i employed at a regular rate of pay. i had re-engaged sharaf ed din, formerly major and commandant of bazingers at kulkul, but who had been discharged by nur angara, as well as a number of jaalin officers who had previously served with zubeir pasha. and now the tribes i had summoned to aid the government had arrived, and my force consisted approximately of the following:-- regulars, armed with remingtons gellabas armed bazingers under sharaf ed din, amongst whom, as leaders, were abder rasul, sheikhs khudr, umbatti, mungid madani, hassan wad sattarat, sultan begu, suleiman wad farah, muslem wad kabbashi, and others , various ----- total guns (of which about were remington rifles) , ===== also a muzzle-loading mountain gun and thirteen artillerymen. the friendly tribes consisted of contingents from the begu, berket, zagawa (of southern darfur), messeria, tagu, and some of the maalia who were hostile to sheikh abu salama; numbering in all some seven thousand spearmen and four hundred horses. the garrison i had left behind at dara consisted of four hundred regulars, seven guns and the gunners required for their service, thirty horses, and two hundred and fifty bazingers; all under the command of zogal bey, who was carrying on the duties of acting-governor, in emiliani's place. with him i had also left a certain gottfried rott, a swiss, and begged him to keep me fully informed of all that occurred. this rott had been a schoolmaster at assiut, and had discovered, some years previously, a quantity of slaves who were being smuggled along the arbaïn road, for sale in egypt. in consequence of this service, mr. gladstone had written him a complimentary letter. he had also received an expression of approbation from the anti-slavery society, and had been appointed by the egyptian government an inspector for the suppression of the slave-trade. he had been sent to me in darfur, with instructions to proceed to shakka, which was to be his district; but he arrived just as the troubles began, and i was obliged to keep him in dara; he thoroughly understood our position, and i had requested him to abandon for the moment his anti-slavery work, which if persisted in would certainly have increased our difficulties. he was a good arabic scholar, and in a very confidential talk i had with him, i confided to him my suspicions about zogal, and asked him to find out all he could from his relatives, and keep me fully informed. at the end of october i moved south, from hashaba, with my entire force. the rizighat country, through which we advanced, was covered with dense bush and forests; and, being constantly exposed to attack, i had to march in such a way as to avoid confusion in the event of an ambush or surprise. the bazingers on the flanks were well provided with buglers, in order to give timely warning of an alarm. the rear guard i made stronger than the flank guards because the arabs generally attack from the rear, and i considered that in case of a flank attack i should have ample time to reinforce from the main body in case of necessity. the rear guard had, of course, the most troublesome duty to perform, as they had to look after any camels that broke down, and keep a careful lookout for men who fell out or attempted to desert; i therefore gave orders that it should be relieved daily by the flank guards in rotation from the left: thus the left flank guard would become rear guard, the relieved rear guard would become the right flank guard, and the latter would become the left flank guard. i also relieved the three hundred bazingers and sixty regulars daily from the main body. in this manner i hoped to reach shakka without any serious loss; and on arriving there it was my intention to build a fort where i should mount the gun, and, leaving a small garrison there, make expeditions in light marching order to the various disturbed districts, where my arab spearmen, if fortunate, would have ample opportunities of capturing any quantity of rizighat cattle. on arrival at deain, we found quantities of corn stored in the new village just built by madibbo; the guard he had left behind made a slight resistance, but were soon put to flight, and we encamped on the site of our old zariba. we found that ali wad fadlalla's grave had been opened, and a skull and some bones lying close by were evidently his. we had covered the grave with a heap of thorns, and it was evident the arabs had committed this sacrilege; they had taken off the shroud in which the body had been wrapped, and the hyenas had devoured all but the skull and bones. i distributed the corn found in madibbo's village amongst the men, and they had now sufficient supplies to last them some days. it was my intention to march direct on shakka; but as there was some doubt about the water on the roads and the whereabouts of madibbo, i sent two rizighat spies--who were on bad terms with the remainder of the tribe, and had immigrated to dara--to obtain the information i required. the day after they left, our camp was reconnoitred by arab horsemen, but they kept at a respectful distance. three days later the men returned, reporting that there was sufficient water on the road, and that madibbo had driven all his cattle south of shakka, where his force was probably collected; but they said they could procure no more definite information. we therefore marched off; the men and arabs all in the best possible spirits, laughing, joking, and discussing amongst themselves how they intended distributing the plunder they expected to get, and how they proposed dividing amongst themselves the wives and households of madibbo and his sheikhs, on exactly the same plan as that adopted by the mahdi. i had little fear as to the eventual result of our operations, but at the same time i was anxious to get to shakka before being attacked. as i was suffering from a heavy bout of fever, i handed over the command of the troops temporarily to sharaf ed din, but ordered him to remain close to me. the following day, having left the village of kindiri on our flank, and having made a short halt, there was an alarm that horsemen were advancing to attack us. immediately every one was in his place, and, in spite of my fever, i joined the rear guard, whence the alarm had come; and from this position i could see numbers of horsemen--there might have been some hundreds, but owing to the intervening trees it was impossible to estimate accurately. signalling to the flank guards to join me, i advanced with the cavalry and arab horsemen, and a skirmish ensued amongst the trees, in which the enemy were driven back with some loss, and we captured six horses; our own losses were seven horses killed, two men missing, and several wounded. having pursued for some distance, we returned, and as it was still early, the march was continued till nightfall, when we encamped at a place called om waragat. [illustration: battle of om waragat-- disposition of troops on the march to shakka] still suffering from fever, i told sharaf ed din to make exactly similar dispositions (see plan); and starting off the following morning, after a march of two hours we reached some more or less open but boggy moorland, at the southeast end of which were visible a few huts such as are erected by the rizighat slaves who work in the fields. the vanguard had already cleared the soft ground; i had gone forward with it to examine the huts, whilst the men in the square were occupied in trying to help out the animals whose feet had sunk into the mire, when suddenly from the rear guard the alarm was sounded twice, followed almost immediately by some rifle-shots. ordering the vanguard to hold the huts, i immediately galloped towards the left flank of the square, and, sounding for the reserve of ninety regulars, i proceeded towards the rear guard; but it was too late. the bazingers and regulars of the rear guard, having fired a volley, had no time to reload before the enemy was on them; and, overpowered by thousands of half-naked arabs, they were being forced back on to the rear face of the square, the men composing which, fearing to fire on friend and foe alike, did nothing to stop the rush, and already several of the enemy had penetrated. without a moment's hesitation, i ordered my bugler to sound "lie down" for those in the square, and, firing on the arabs who had broken in, as well as on those still pushing on from behind, i checked the rush, and caused them to split up into two parties, who, trending off right and left, made for the flank guards already engaged with other parties of arabs who were attacking them in front. the confusion was now indescribable; within the square the arabs who had already penetrated, although suffering heavily from the fire from my small party, were creating frightful havoc amongst the almost defenceless bazingers, who, armed only with muzzle-loaders, could do nothing, whilst the regulars--so sudden had been the rush--had not even time to draw their bayonets; eventually, however, those who had entered were all killed. the flank guards, taken in front and rear, suffered even more heavily than the square, and, breaking up entirely, they fled in all directions, hundreds being killed by the rizighat horsemen concealed in the forest. the action had lasted only twenty minutes, but in that short space of time our losses were terrible. fortunately, on the dispersion of the flanking parties the enemy had pursued them hotly. my fire, it is true, had driven them away from the square, but at what sacrifice! amongst the regulars who had obeyed my signal to lie down, the losses had not been so severe; but the untrained bazingers had suffered terribly, and many of our camels had also been killed. in the midst of the confusion, i saw one of the enemy, who passed close to us, carrying off a red bag containing the fuses for the gun. he evidently thought he had some very special loot; and so indeed it was, as without the fuses our gun was useless. "kir," said i to my young black attendant, who seldom left me, "let me see if you are as brave as you always say you are; go and fetch the red bag,--here is my horse;" and, jumping off, i gave it to him. he mounted, and taking only a spear in his hand, dashed off, returning in a few minutes with the red bag and a still redder spear. the last horseman had disappeared in the distance, and i now sounded the "assembly." only a few hundred responded to the call, and dividing these up into parties, i detailed half as guards, while the others were employed in collecting together the ammunition and arms of those who had fallen, packing them on the camels and depositing them in the little village, which, standing on a small sandy plain, afforded us a fairly clear field of view; then, collecting a quantity of thorn-bushes, we constructed a zariba as quickly as possible, fearing that at any moment the enemy might return. this done, our next thought was for the wounded; those only slightly hurt had already crawled to the zariba, and the severely wounded we now carried in, and did what was possible to alleviate their sufferings. as far as the eye could reach, the ground was strewn with dead bodies, and what numbers too lay in the forest out of view! curiously enough, this disaster had taken place on the actual spot where, years before, adam tarbush, the vizir of sultan hussein, had suffered a similar defeat and lost his life. now came the terribly sad duty of calling the roll. of my fourteen infantry officers, ten had fallen, and one was wounded. the gellaba chiefs, sheikh khidr, mangel medani, hassan wad sattarat, and suleiman wad fatah had been killed, as well as fiki ahmed, hassib, and shekelub. of the thirteen artillerymen, one only remained alive. the greek alexander, too, who had previously been wounded at deain, and who had not yet recovered, had been killed. sorrowfully we collected the dead, to pay them the last honours. amongst a heap of bodies we found sharaf ed din, stabbed to the heart. in the soft damp ground we hurriedly dug rough graves, and officers and chiefs we buried in twos and threes,--a terribly sad task. as for the poor wounded, there was little we could do for them. those only slightly hurt were already dressing their own wounds; but for the severe cases, we had no means of dressing them, and a few comforting words was all the small help we could give them. it was indeed painful to see such suffering, and feel how utterly incapable one was of alleviating it. catching sight of one of my boys, who was carrying my satchel with a few bandages in it, i took it from him and began dressing one or two cases, when it suddenly occurred to me that i had not seen my other boy, morgan hosan, who was leading one of my horses. he was a fine, intelligent young fellow, scarcely sixteen years old, honest, quiet, and brave. "isa," said i to the boy carrying the satchel, "where is morgan, who was leading my horse mubarak [on which were my note-books and sketches in the saddle-bags]; he is an active fellow, and perhaps mounted the horse, and has managed to escape." sad and broken-hearted, poor isa shook his head, and, his eyes filling with tears, he handed me a bit of my horse's bridle. "what is this?" i asked. "master," said he, "i did not want to make you more sorry than you are. i found him not far from here, lying on the ground with a spear-wound in his chest. when he saw me he smiled and whispered, 'i knew you would come and look for me. say good-bye to my master, and tell him i was not a coward. i did not let go his horse, and it was only when i fell down stabbed in the chest that they cut the bridle to which i clung, and took him; show my master the bit of the bridle that is still in my hand, and tell him that morgan was faithful. take the knife out of my pocket,--it belongs to my master; give it to him, and say many salams to him from me.'" isa, his voice choked with sobbing, handed me the knife, and i, too, now quite broke down. poor morgan, so young and so true! poor master, to have lost so faithful a servant and so true a friend! "tell me, isa, what was the end?" i said. "he was thirsty," he replied, "and i took his head in my hands, and in a few seconds he was dead. i then got up and left him; i had other things to do, and there was no time to cry." [illustration: fight between the rizighat and egyptian troops.] ordering the zariba to be strengthened, and trenches to be dug inside, i then had the drums beaten, bugles blown, and some rifle shots fired, so that any who might still be fleeing, or stopped by the swampy ground slightly wounded, might know that a place of refuge was at hand. during the day, a considerable number came in, and, calling over the roll in the evening, i found we mustered in all nine hundred men, including regulars and bazingers,--a sad and broken remnant out of a force of eighty-five hundred men, but still something for which to be thankful. of our horsemen and cavalry, thirty only were left,--the enemy had probably captured a large number, and some had perhaps escaped and returned to dara or to their own homes; but of arms and ammunition of those who had fallen we had abundance. at sunset the rizighat arabs returned from the pursuit, and, to their astonishment, found us in an entrenched position, ready to fight them. madibbo now sent forward his bazingers to attack us; but after a short struggle we drove them back, and darkness coming on, all firing ceased. whilst sitting talking to my officers, sheikhs abder rasul, muslim wad kabbashi, and sultan begu approached, and asked whether it would not be better to retreat from our present position under cover of night, as after our heavy defeat and losses we had no chance now against the enemy. "well," said i, "you wish to retreat during the night; but what will you do with all our wounded comrades and brothers? do you want to leave them to the tender mercies of our enemies?" shamefaced, they were silent and did not reply. "no," said i, "your proposal is not a good one; i have been talking over the matter with my officers, and we have resolved to remain where we are for a few days. we have now nothing to fear but hunger; the wounded and tired camels can be killed for food for the soldiers. besides, we can exist somehow or other for a few days. we shall most certainly be attacked, as we have already been, but we shall equally surely drive off the enemy. in this way the men will regain confidence after the terrible shock we have all suffered. i know the rizighat; they will not stay here and watch us. i feel confident we shall settle accounts with madibbo, his bazingers, and sheikh jango, who fled once before to the bahr el ghazal. our wounded comrades will have time to recover their strength a little; those only suffering slightly will be able to march in a few days, and the others we can mount on our horses. i think my proposal is a much better one than yours." whilst i had been talking i had overheard sultan abakr making remarks of approval, and by the time i had finished all had agreed to stay. speaking generally to all present, i said to them, "can any of you understand how it was we were defeated to-day?" "no," they all answered. "well, i will tell you," i replied. "this evening i saw amongst the wounded the assistant of hassan wad sattarat, commander of the rear guard. he said, 'sharaf ed din did not carry out your instructions to relieve the rear guard, as on the previous days; the regulars were annoyed, and joined their companies without permission, and no fresh men were sent in their places. at the same time the friendly arabs joined the flank guards, and when we were attacked, hassan wad sattarat had at his disposal only about two hundred and fifty bazingers armed with old percussion-guns.' sharaf ed din has paid for his negligence with his life, and we have all suffered as well. it is too late for recrimination now; let us think of something else. go and cheer up your men; get some sleep, so that you may be fit for what to-morrow may bring. but you, said agha fula, as you are wounded, will probably not be able to sleep; so we will put an angareb for you to lie down on at the gate of the zariba, and, should any one attempt to go out without my permission, you have my orders to shoot him." now that i was alone, i had time to think over the situation. it was very probable we should succeed in retiring on dara, we had over eight hundred rifles and guns. but i bitterly deplored the losses; all my best officers and advisers were killed, and i dreaded lest the news of our disaster should reach dara before i could communicate, as, in the event of this, the effect might be most serious both on the garrison and amongst the inhabitants. i therefore woke up my clerk and ordered him to write two short notes,--one to zogal, and the other to the commandant, adjutant-major mohammed farag, informing them that, in spite of heavy losses, we were well, and that we hoped to return to dara in about a fortnight; but should fugitives come in and spread false and alarming news about our situation, they were to be arrested and kept under guard till i returned. i myself wrote a few lines to gottfried rott, describing the situation, and informing him that i hoped to return to dara before long with the remainder of the troops; that he must not be down-hearted, but should do his utmost to keep up the spirits of all. i enclosed also a note to my mother, brothers, and sisters, bidding them farewell, as it was impossible to foresee what would be the end of all this trouble. in case i should fall, i begged rott to send these on to my dear ones at home. taking the letters in my hand, i now went to abdulla om dramo, sheikh of the messeria arabs, who resided near dara, and, waking him up, i said, "where is your brother salama?" "there he is," said he, pointing to the man lying beside him, and waking him up also. "salama," said i, "you can render me a great service, which will also be of much advantage to yourself. you see these letters, you must take them to dara and hand them over to the european rott, whom you have often seen with me; i shall give you my own horse, which you always say is such a good one, for this mission. you must leave at once, and when you get near the line of the enemy encircling us, ride sharply through, for they are all asleep, and you will have disappeared in the dark before they can get their horses ready; once through their lines you will be safe, and in two days you should be in dara. as a reward, i, will give you my black mare, which is in my stable." whilst i was talking, salama had tightened up the cloth round his chest and loins, and merely said, "where are the letters?" i gave them to him, and, taking them, he said, "please god and with the help of the almighty i shall take these letters to their destination. but i prefer to ride my own horse; he may not be so swift as yours, but he is quite strong enough to take me home on his back. i know my horse, and he knows me. mutual acquaintances are always an advantage on such expeditions." whilst he was girthing up his saddle, i scribbled a line to rott, telling him to give the bearer of these letters my black mare, and, handing it to him, i told him what i had written; then, leading his horse to the gate, we came to said agha fula, who was lying restlessly and in pain on his angareb: he was wounded in the right leg and left arm. i told him about salama's mission, and he then ordered the gate to be opened. in a moment salama had mounted, and, holding in his right hand his long spear, and in his left his bundle of small spears, he started off. "i commit you to god's keeping," i cried. "i trust in god," was his reply. going slowly at first, he approached the lines cautiously; then i heard the rapid clatter of hoofs, in a few minutes one or two rifle-shots rang out in the still night, then all was as silent again as death. "may god go with him!" we all ejaculated, and then re-entered the zariba. exhausted nature now claimed me, and, utterly tired out, i was soon fast asleep. when i woke up at early dawn i found the men already at work strengthening the breastworks, and, as i had anticipated, the enemy renewed their attack at sunrise. for some time a very brisk fire was kept up on both sides; but, owing to our dominating position the arabs were at length forced to retire, after suffering considerable loss. on our side there were a few killed and wounded; amongst the former being ali wad hegaz, a jaali, and one of the best and bravest of his tribe. as it was our intention to remain here four or five days, the men busied themselves in strengthening the zariba, and we also buried the bodies of friends and foes in the immediate vicinity, as already the air was contaminated with the fetid smell of decaying corpses. amongst my men were two bazingers whom on a former occasion i had employed to carry messages to my friend lupton, who had succeeded gessi as governor-general of bahr el ghazal. it now occurred to me that it would be advisable to let him know the situation in darfur, and ask him, should he be not otherwise occupied, to make an expedition against the rizighat and habbania arabs, who in the wet season took their cattle into his province. i had ascertained that trouble had broken out in the bahr el ghazal as well, from a wounded rizighat slave-hunter who had fallen into our hands; and he had told me that the janghé tribe had revolted. sheikh janghé had attached telgauna and sacked it; but having been subsequently defeated, he had joined madibbo, and had been present with two hundred men in yesterday's action. however, i had no doubt that lupton was better off than i was; and, provided the government officials were loyal, i knew he had nothing to fear, for the tribes were too disunited to join in common action against the government. besides, the religious factor, which was the bond of union amongst the northern tribes, did not enter into the bahr el ghazal situation, where the majority of the black tribes were pagans. in the bahr el ghazal the most important tribes, who are principally negroes and negroids, are the janghé, farogé, kâra, runga, fertit, kraitsh, baya, tega, banda, niam niam, bongo, mombuttu, etc.; all these were entirely distinct from one another, having their kings or rulers, and there were continual feuds between them. it was this fact which enabled the nile arabs to enter the country with comparative ease, as zubeir pasha had done; it was a very simple operation to collect a number of the inhabitants, train them to the use of fire-arms, and utilise their services to invade a neighbouring tribe. these savage chiefs were too ignorant to understand that by combining in their opposition to foreign intrusion they would probably have been able to preserve their own integrity; but it is contrary to the traditions of these tribes to be ruled by any but their own chiefs, unless it be by arabs or europeans; and this fact accounts for the ease with which the slave-hunters pursued their nefarious traffic, almost unopposed, throughout the length and breadth of this vast province, which is peopled by the most warlike races in the sudan, and who are capable of making excellent soldiers. to lupton, therefore, i decided to write, requesting him to advance against the arabs on the bahr el ghazal frontier,--an operation which would certainly weaken the latter, or at least prevent them from entering darfur. these few lines i concealed in a dry pumpkin gourd, and despatched by the hands of the two bazingers. we passed five days in the zariba, attacked once, if not twice, every day. during the action fought on the third day koreina nur, the commander of madibbo's gun-bearers, and the bravest and boldest of his arabs, was killed; and henceforth the enemy's attacks diminished greatly in vigour. but now we had a new enemy to contend against,--famine. almost everything eatable in the camp had been consumed; the camel meat, which had amply sufficed for the men, was now finished; there was not a grain of dhurra left; my officers and i had lived for some time on some old crusts of dhurra bread, which we had cooked with the leaves of a plant called kawal, and stirred up into a sort of tasteless porridge. we had no prospect of being relieved, to stay longer where we were was impossible, and already we were weakened by want of food; i therefore assembled the entire force,--consisting of nine hundred men, almost all of whom were armed with rifles and guns, except a few arabs, who, being ignorant of fire-arms, prepared to trust to their lances,--and, addressing them in a few words, i told them that the blood of their dead officers and chiefs cried to them for vengeance; that their wives and children anxiously awaited their return, but that it was impossible to reach them without enduring troubles with patience, and facing difficulties with courage and endurance; and i closed my harangue by saying that those in whose hearts was fear had left us in the day of battle, but those now before me had bravely stood their ground against overwhelming odds, and that i had no doubt they would do so again, and that god would crown our efforts by victory. a shout, and the shaking of rifles and guns over their heads, which is their usual method of signifying their obedience and courage, was their reply; and i then dismissed them, with orders to prepare to march the following day. i now took out the hammers from the percussion guns belonging to the killed, which lay heaped up in the middle of the zariba, and threw them into a rain pool; but of the stocks i made a bonfire. the filled shells for the gun i threw into the water, and as much ammunition as possible was distributed amongst the soldiers, each man carrying from sixteen to eighteen dozen rounds; but all the percussion gun ammunition i was obliged to destroy, in case it should fall into the hands of the enemy; the lead in the cartridges was removed, and some of the very severely wounded having just died, i placed it in the open graves, over which we laid the bodies of our poor comrades, as guardians of our precious metal. it was on a saturday, the seventh day after our disaster, and just after sunrise, that we marched out of the zariba, and, forming up in square with flank and rear guards, we began our retreat. the only two camels remaining drew the gun in the middle of the square, and i sent out two arab horsemen as far as possible on each side to scout. we had one hundred and sixty wounded inside the square, and as many of them as could march did so; but the most severe cases we mounted on the few remaining horses, each horse carrying two or three men. i myself was prepared to walk; but, at the urgent request of my officers, i mounted, so as to obtain a better view over the country. we all knew that when we had marched some distance from the zariba we should most certainly be attacked; i therefore had the gun loaded, and we resolved to sell our lives dearly. we well understood the arab mode of fighting, and were confident that if we succeeded in driving back the first two or three attacks, we should not be further molested. it was decided the line of direction should be northeast, as the ground was more open; but we were ignorant of the whereabouts of the rain-pools, as our guides were either killed or had deserted. before we had been on the march an hour, we were attacked in the rear by horsemen, and i knew the decisive moment had come. halting instantly, i called in the flank guards closer to the square, and, accompanied by my own escort of fifty men, proceeded to the rear guard, distant about two hundred yards. the gun was run out to the rear face of the square, and several of the slightly wounded held the cartridges and shell ready to reload without delay. before the enemy's footmen were in sight we could hear the sound of their advance; and when they did appear, a few well-directed volleys from the rear guard had the effect of slightly checking them; but, encouraged by those coming up behind, they rushed towards us, waving their great lances in their right hands, and carrying in their left bundles of small throwing spears. they succeeded in coming so close that several of our men were wounded by thrown spears; but our fire created havoc amongst their ranks, and the gun played on them freely from the square. their spearmen now gave way to madibbo's and jangho's bazingers, and a very brisk fire was maintained on both sides; but, getting reinforcements from the square, we succeeded, after twenty minutes' hard struggle, in driving back the attack. on the first shots being fired, i had at once jumped off my horse, which is always understood in the sudan to mean that, abandoning his chance of flight in case of a reverse, the commander has determined to conquer or die with his troops; and now that the action was over, the men came round me, and we had a great mutual hand-shaking over this, our first success. whilst we had been engaged in combating the attack on the rear, the left flank guard had also become engaged, and, though the enemy had been driven off, nevertheless it had suffered somewhat, and my best remaining officer, zeidan agha, was dangerously wounded. he was a nubian by birth, and during the darfur campaign had shown conspicuous gallantry in recapturing, at the head of only twelve men, a gun which had been taken by the enemy. for this service he had been promoted to the rank of an officer; and now he lay with a bullet through his right lung. i asked him how he was, and, giving me his hand, he murmured, "now that we have conquered, we are all right;" and, pressing my hand, in a few minutes he was dead. besides him we had lost twenty men killed, and several wounded. our dead we buried roughly, as there was no time to dig graves; but we covered them sufficiently to avoid the reproach that we had left our dead unburied, and then continued our march with the same precautions, but with considerably increased confidence. about three o'clock another attack on the rear was signalled; but this time it was not pressed home, and we drove off the enemy without suffering any loss ourselves. we now halted and formed a zariba, momentarily expecting another attack. but, to our surprise, we passed the night undisturbed, and the next morning at sunrise, having finished all our water, we resumed our march. again we were subjected to an attack; but on this occasion it was even weaker than that of the previous afternoon, and was driven off without any trouble. we continued our march till midday, without finding any water; but got a little rest under the shady trees, and found a quantity of "fayo," a sort of native radish and very juicy. three small leaves springing from the ground denote its presence, and it was sucked with avidity by our parched troops, and in some measure assuaged our thirst; but still it was absolutely necessary to find water. after a short halt we pushed on again, and by good fortune accidentally came across a rizighat shepherd, driving before him a flock of sheep. in an instant the men had seized the sheep, while the unfortunate shepherd, taken completely by surprise, did not attempt to escape, and would certainly have been killed, had i not rushed forward and prevented the men from harming him. i now had all the sheep driven inside the square; and meanwhile, my boys, having tied the arab's hands behind his back, brought him before me. but before interrogating him, i gave orders for the sheep, of which there were over two hundred, to be distributed amongst the famished men, to every five men one sheep, and we kept a few for ourselves. what a godsend to us was this food! turning now to the arab, i told him that his life would be spared if he would guide us to a rain pool; and that if he proved faithful i should give him a good reward, and let him go to his own home. he agreed, but said that there were only a few small pools in this neighbourhood, and that if we went on some distance further, and then halted, he would guarantee to bring us to the "fula el beida" (the white rain-pool) early the next morning, where there was sufficient water to last us for months. i was somewhat suspicious of him, and, therefore, ordered a non-commissioned officer and eight men to keep guard over him, and not to allow him to go far from me. we then resumed the march, halted at sunset, and made our zariba as usual. we came across a few pools, but they were quite insufficient; and as we were still suffering considerably from thirst, i started on again at earliest dawn, having passed a miserable and sleepless night. about midday the guide pointed out some large trees, under which he said the pool lay. halting, therefore, at once, i ordered the gun to be dismounted and loaded, and all preparations made to resist. it seemed to me very probable that the enemy, knowing that we should be suffering from thirst, would be in concealment somewhere near the water, and would charge us as we were approaching. i now called on the men to strictly obey all orders, and on no account to become undisciplined. but as soon as the water came in view, the poor thirsty troops could contain themselves no longer, and rushed pell-mell towards it. i managed to restrain the forty men i had as escort, and there were about the same number with the rear guard; and although i sounded the "assembly" again and again, the men were now completely out of hand, plunging up to their waists in the water, in their frenzy of delight. but, as i had anticipated, the enemy were concealed behind the trees--fortunately, at some distance off--and, seeing our disorder, they now made a general attack from all sides. galloping to the front, followed by the escort, we opened fire; while mohammed suleiman did the same as regards the rear. our demoralised men, seeing the situation, at once fell in, and after some heavy firing we drove off the enemy, losing in this mêlée only one horse. we now selected a suitable position near the water, and set to work to make a zariba; and that finished, the men killed their sheep, fires were lighted, and in an hour they were enjoying the first solid meal they had had for many a day. as we were all sadly in need of a rest, i decided to remain in this position till the following day. that evening a report came in from the outposts that a man was seen waving a piece of white calico and asking to be allowed to see me. i did not wish him to enter the zariba and see all our wounded; i therefore went out, and found that he was one of madibbo's slaves, bearing a letter for me from his master. in this letter madibbo called on me to surrender and hand over my arms. he further wrote that the mahdi was now encamped before el obeid, which he expected to capture shortly. he promised to treat me with all respect, and to send me, under safe escort, to the mahdi. i now ordered this letter to be read aloud to the men, who greeted it with jeers, and asked the slave if his master was mad; to which the terror-stricken man replied that he did not really know. i then turned to him seriously, and, speaking loud enough for all to hear, i said, "tell madibbo it was god's will we should have suffered losses, but we are not defeated. we are wandering about in his country, and if he does not like us to do so, he must accept the situation, as he has neither the power nor the courage to stop us. if he is really an adherent of the mahdi, and desires to enjoy the pleasures of paradise promised him, then let him come here to-morrow morning. we shall wait for him, and for his sake we shall not march to-morrow." most of the men had now gathered round us, and were listening to this speech and laughing; and when i bade the messenger good-bye, some of the wits begged him to give madibbo their compliments, and tell him they hoped soon to have the pleasure of his personal acquaintance. the men were now in the highest spirits; they really did wish to make madibbo's acquaintance, and wipe out, if possible, the defeat they had suffered at om waragat. that evening i presented our guide with a piece of red cloth, a pair of silver bangles, and a few dollars, which i borrowed from the surviving merchants, and he quitted the zariba full of gratitude. at the same time i told him that should he come to dara i would repay him the value of his sheep. the next morning we ascertained in various ways that madibbo was not far off, and after our boasting it behoved us to be very cautious. however, we were not attacked. some of the men outside the zariba were amusing themselves by making small caps of twisted palm-leaves, like those worn by some of the arabs we had killed, when a rizighat horseman, who had evidently lost his way, came galloping towards us, thinking we were madibbo's people. my men at once stopped him, and, making him dismount, brought him before me. suddenly realising his mistake, he cried out, "allahu akbar! ana kataltu nafsi" (god is most great! i have killed myself). however, i consoled him, and handed him over to mohammed suleiman to be watched, and gave his horse to mohammed khalil, who had lost his in yesterday's action. that night i sent in a letter, by a runner to dara, informing zogal and gottfried rott that we were all well, and hoped soon to be with them. the next morning i gave orders to march, and sent for the arab who had come in yesterday, to speak to him about the road, but was told that some of the men, infuriated at the death of their comrades, had split open his head with an axe. mohammed suleiman denied all knowledge of the perpetrators of this crime, and knowing in what condition my men were, i thought it better to let this incident of brutality pass. during this day's march, as if to bid us farewell, we were once more attacked, but the enemy was again driven off. we picked up a wounded arab, who told us that mohammed abu salama and several habbania sheikhs were still with madibbo, but that sheikh jango, owing to the heavy losses he had suffered at om waragat, had returned to the bahr el ghazal. i had no doubt the man would be picked up by his own friends, so i left him, and that evening reached a place some distance southeast of deain. on the following day we reached bir dilwei, and thence we continued our march without interruption to dara. on the road letters reached me saying that salama, whom i had sent off from om waragat, had arrived safely; they reported rumours that the mima intended to revolt; and rott, in a letter of which the handwriting was scarcely legible, told me that he had been taken ill the previous saturday, and was very anxious to see me. i also received a report from omar wad darho, stating that he had heard el obeid was besieged, and that he did not think the homr arabs would dare to attack om shanga again, after their constant defeats. the reports of the mudir of el fasher were in general satisfactory, except as regards the mima arabs. news from kebkebia and kulkul was also good. at length we reached dara, and our entry was by no means a cheerful one. many, of course, were happy to see their husbands, fathers, and brothers again; but how many more wept and wailed for their dead, lying on the distant battle-field! it behoved me now to look after my own bruises. in the various fights i had been wounded three times. a bullet had shattered the ring-finger of my right hand, which had to be amputated almost to the root; the fingers on either side were also damaged. another bullet had struck me in the upper part of my leg, and, flattening against the bone, made it protrude. a thrown lance had also struck me in the right knee. in spite of these wounds, i had been able to go through the campaign without much suffering; but i felt weak and overdone, and was very glad of a few days' rest. i found poor gottfried rott very seriously ill. he wanted to move to fasher for change of air; and having again heard from said bey guma that it was impossible to get camels to send the remainder of the ammunition for which i had asked, i now hired all the camels i could in dara,--the property of officers, officials, and merchants, about fifty in all,--and sent them under escort of one hundred regulars to el fasher, ordering said bey to load them up with ammunition, send them back without delay, and with them as many other beasts of burden as he could procure. i wrote also to adam amer, the commandant, ordering him to send me a reinforcement of two hundred men (one hundred regulars and one hundred bazingers) from kebkebia direct to dara. with this caravan i sent gottfried rott in charge of an officer, who was ordered to take him to my house in el fasher, and at the same time i wrote to a greek merchant named dimitri zigada, and asked him to do all he could for the patient. the news from kordofan being very contradictory,--though at the same time the general tenor was unsatisfactory,--i set to work to try and procure some reliable information. i therefore sent khaled wad imam and mohammed wad asi--the latter a most faithful man--to that province, with instructions either to send me news with the least possible delay, or return with it themselves. khaled wad imam had been brought up with zogal, and although they were not related to each other, they were generally looked upon as brothers. my reason for sending him with asi was that he should protect him in el obeid, and the plan succeeded admirably; for khaled was naturally anxious to do nothing which would jeopardise zogal, who, of course, remained with me at dara. at the same time i cautioned asi to remain on as friendly terms as possible with khaled, and to try and find out if zogal was in communication with the mahdi, and, under any circumstances, to return to me as quickly as possible. the day after my return to dara, i sent orders to omar wad darho to go back at once with all his men to el fasher, leaving one of his officers, el ata wad melek usul, of the shaigia royal blood, as commander of the newly recruited horsemen at om shanga. i also learnt that abo bey el bartawi, the official in charge of the toweisha district, was in communication with the mima, and was inclined to revolt,--a rumour which was subsequently confirmed, as he refused to obey my summons to him to come to dara, and he did not explain his reasons for not doing so. in twelve days the caravan returned from el fasher with the fifty camels, a hundred boxes of remington ammunition, and ten kantars of lead. said bey made the usual excuses that he could hire no camels from the employés, and adam amer wrote that, owing to the disturbed aspect of affairs in the fasher district, it was impossible to send me the reinforcements i had ordered. i now thoroughly understood the situation. the officers were undoubtedly hostile to me. they had talked amongst themselves, and had spread rumours all through the country that ahmed pasha arabi had turned his master, the khedive, out of egypt, because he was friendly to christians, and admitted them into his service; that arabi was now master of the country, and had turned out all who were not egyptians, such as turks and circassians, and had confiscated their property, which had been turned over to the government. they had further declared that i had been discharged from my position, but that, owing to the roads being cut, the authority for my dismissal had not come to hand. of course the more sensible people placed no credence in these idle tales; but there was no doubt my authority was distinctly impaired, and this state of things was taken full advantage of by those who bore me a grudge. hitherto there had been no overt act of disobedience to my orders; but excuses were being continually made, as there was evident inclination not to comply with them. however, such was the situation, and i had to put up with it and be as cheerful as i could under the circumstances. i was reminded of the arab proverb, "el kalb yenbah wa el gamal mashi" (the dog barks, whilst the camel _unheeding_ passes by); in other words, i thought it better to take no notice of all this cackling. beshari bey wad bekir, head-sheikh of the beni helba arabs, whom i had summoned to dara, pleaded sickness; but anxious not to break off entirely with me, he sent me two horses and thirty oxen, which he begged me to accept as a token of submission, adding that as soon as the state of his health permitted he would certainly come. i gave the horses to the officers who had lost theirs in battle, and the thirty oxen i gave to the men. by the same post which brought me news of omar wad darho's arrival at el fasher i heard of poor gottfried rott's death. in spite of most careful nursing and attention, he gradually sank, and was buried at el fasher, beside dr. pfund and friedrich rosset, who had died there some years before. the mima were now in a state of open revolt. they had killed one of the government mounted postmen, and had turned out their own sultan daud, who was peaceably inclined to government, and replaced him by another. i therefore sent instructions to omar wad darho to proceed with two hundred regulars and two hundred horsemen into their country, to chastise them; and at the same time i decided to operate against the khawabir, who were acting in conjunction with the mima. darho started off, and had a successful little campaign, defeating the mima at fafa and woda, whilst i proceeded, with a hundred and fifty regulars and fifty horsemen, _via_ shieria, to bir om lawai, where the khawabir, apprised of my approach, were waiting to attack me. after a short fight they were defeated and dispersed, and we captured a considerable number of sheep and oxen. when these operations were over, i instructed darho to leave a sufficiently strong force at fasher, and to join me at bir om lawai with the remainder of his men. in a few days he arrived, and gave me a full account of all his doings, and further details of the mahdi's successes in kordofan, which to me were excessively disquieting. abo bey having now openly joined in the mima revolt, i decided to send omar agha with a sufficiently strong force to toweisha, with instructions to destroy his residence, distant two days, whilst i despatched omar wad darho and his men to again worry the khawabir, who had retired to their sand-hills. he, however, met with no very signal success. the khawabir country, except at bir om lawai, is a sandy tract, destitute of trees and vegetation; but the rain, which lies for some months in the depressions of the ground, enables the arabs to live here; and when it dries up they drink the contents of the water-melons, which grow in abundance near the pools, and which, when pressed, yield a somewhat sour but pleasant-tasting juice. on the evening in which i was writing out darho's instructions for his expedition against the khawabir, a certain abderrahman wad sherif came and urgently begged to speak to me. he was a well-known dara merchant, and had previously travelled to khartum. he began by saying that as i had always treated him with kindness, he thought it his duty to inform me that el obeid had capitulated, adding that the early news of this sad event might enable me to take the measures i considered necessary. this was a terrible blow; but i thanked him for his melancholy news, and he then described to me in detail what had taken place. he was present at the time of the surrender and had left three days afterwards to visit his family in dara; but hearing at toweisha that i was at bir om lawai, he had come straight to me, as he was most anxious that this news should reach me first through a friend. as i knew it was useless to try and keep this secret, i summoned darho and suleiman basyuni, and told them what i had heard, and we talked over the steps which we should now take. it was very evident that this news would prove an immense incentive to those hostilely inclined to the government, and there was no doubt my presence in dara was an urgent necessity. as the mima and khawabir had been chastised, the next thing in order of importance was to send an expedition to toweisha, and on the following day i wrote to said bey guma that om shanga should be evacuated, and that the garrison, merchants, and any who wished should withdraw to el fasher. i explained that as el obeid had fallen, it was more than probable the arabs would now turn on om shanga, and if invested, it would be quite impossible to send relief; and that, under any circumstances, it was imperative that the principal fighting forces in the province should be concentrated at fasher. i also ordered him to establish a strong post at fafa and woda, in the mima country, in order to keep open communication between fasher and dara. omar wad darho and his men i instructed to return forthwith to el fasher, adding that any booty taken from the mima should be distributed amongst his men and the fasher garrison, whilst that taken from the khawabir should go to the dara troops. on the following day we separated,--darho to fasher, and i back to dara. in a few days the news of the fall of el obeid had spread far and wide, and the effect on the arab tribes became immediately apparent: meetings were held in all parts of the country, and it was decided almost unanimously to rise against the government. the day i arrived at dara, i ordered all the dhurra i could find to be bought up; we had a considerable amount now in store, but more would certainly be advantageous. sheikh afifi now sent me news that his tribe had revolted and had joined the rizighat, but he himself, true to his promise, was leaving his own country with his family and relatives and was coming to me _via_ dar helba, and that he had sent his brother ali with a message to beshari bey wad bekir, the head-sheikh of the beni helba, with whom solemn oaths had been exchanged, agreeing to his safe conduct through his country, and therefore he hoped to be with me in a few days. i was awaiting his arrival when the sad news came that he had been killed. in him i lost my most faithful arab sheikh. it transpired that the beni helba, who had been ordered by their sheikh to let him through, wanted to take from him his numerous sheep and oxen, and, having refused, a fight had ensued; he had performed prodigies of valour, but had been slain by some spearmen concealed amongst the trees, when in pursuit of the mounted arabs, whom he had twice successfully driven off. mohammed wad asi, whom i had sent with khaled wad imam, now returned from kordofan, and gave me the fullest particulars regarding the situation there. he brought me the good news that government was collecting a large force in khartum for the re-conquest of kordofan, but that no doubt a considerable time must elapse before the expedition could start. i told him to spread this news in all directions, and then inquired as to zogal's relations with the mahdi. he replied that in spite of the most careful investigation, he could not ascertain definitely if any direct correspondence took place between them, but he had no doubt that zogal received verbal messages from the mahdi, brought by itinerant merchants; he however shared my views, that zogal, being a man of position and education, must be well aware of the actual motives of the revolt, and would not be likely to embark on any foolish undertaking. no doubt the capitulation of el obeid had greatly weakened our position, and with the whole of kordofan in the hands of the enemy, it behoved us to act with the greatest caution and circumspection. wad asi's news about the expedition preparing in khartum would probably have the effect on the mahdi of making him keep his forces together so as to offer a united resistance; it was not, therefore, likely he would turn to us just at present. we must give all our attention to the revolt of the arab tribes, who, now thoroughly inflamed by the news of the capitulation of el obeid, and stirred up by fanatical proclamations, were ready to proceed to all extremities. as the operations of the intended expedition to kordofan would not probably be finished till the winter, it was imperative that we should try and hold out by some means till then. in spite of the formation of the military post at fafa and woda, the bir om lawai khawabir arabs had again collected, and, joined by a number of mima who had been irritated by the roads to their country being cut, and stimulated by the fall of el obeid, were now stirring up the entire country between fasher and dara, whilst the troops at fafa were not in sufficient force to attack them. i therefore decided on another expedition against them, as i was resolved to show them that the fall of el obeid had not discouraged us. selecting two hundred and fifty old soldiers, well inured to war, i had them trained in bayonet-exercise for a few days preparatory to my departure, the date of which i kept strictly secret. taking with me all the horses i could muster at the time, some seventy in number, and instructing wad asi to keep me informed of events in dara during my absence, i advanced rapidly; and in two days reached the neighbourhood of bir om lawai, where both the mima and khawabir were collected. we took with us only our arms and ammunition, as our intention was to attack them, and then return. the instant, therefore, the enemy came in view i gave the order to "fix bayonets," and, in spite of the bazingers and their guns, after a sharp fight of twenty minutes we drove them off and dispersed them. a few of the mima arabs had got amongst my men, but had all been bayoneted. i now ordered the horsemen to take up behind them the regulars and pursue, and do their utmost to discover where the water-melons were stored, as they would undoubtedly make for them to quench their thirst. this order was well carried out, the water-melons were destroyed, and a number of women and children captured; whilst the tribesmen were scattered over the country in search of water, and many died of thirst. the next day the enemy's camp was burnt, and the women and children, who would otherwise have perished, i ordered to be brought to bir om lawai, which i now attacked. the enemy here made a most determined defence, and i lost sixteen men killed, and twenty wounded. this loss brought home the fact to me that i had very few good regulars left, whilst the enemy, even if defeated, were daily increasing in number. the women and children brought from bir om lawai i handed over to muslem wad kabbashi with directions that he should take them to hilla shieria, and thence to their homes at fafa and woda. the trees at bir om lawai i ordered to be cut down and thrown into the wells, which i then filled up with earth, and returned to dara. being the solitary european in a foreign country, and in the midst of an intriguing and unfriendly population, i had to resort to all sorts of means to discover the plots and designs of those by whom i was surrounded; and sometimes by money, or by gifts distributed in secret, i was able to learn beforehand what was likely to occur, and take measures accordingly. through the help of my servants i utilised the services of some of the profligate women of the town, who, as was the custom of the country, prepared the native beer, or marissa, which is consumed in large quantities by the lower classes in the brothels. these houses were the rendezvous for every description of loafer, grumbler, and tattler who wished to let his tongue wag without restraint, under the influence of drink. my servants had told me that during these drinking-bouts they frequently talked of the great religious rising of the mahdi, for which, it may be readily imagined, those present had not much sympathy. it was, however, generally agreed that the government, having placed so many christians and unbelievers in high positions, in which they were employed in combating this religious reformer, the result must be bad. the soldiers who frequented these houses of ill-fame often remarked, i was told, that although they liked me, they attributed the losses we had suffered in action to the fact of my being a christian. i was perfectly well aware that these views were not the outcome of the brain of the black soldier, who, as a rule, cares little about religion, but were instigated by those who were doing their utmost to upset and nullify my authority and make me unpopular with the men. now, on my return from bir om lawai still more serious news awaited me. my servants told me that in one of the brothels belonging to a woman in my secret pay, daily meetings were held, in which the soldiers discussed the project of wholesale desertion. on inquiry i found that the principal instigators of these seditious meetings were non-commissioned officers and men of the fur tribe, who were reported to be tired of this constant fighting, and who declared that the days of turkish authority were numbered. their plan was to desert to sultan dud benga, the successor of sultan harun, who resided on the western slopes of jebel marra. as the fur section was the most numerous and powerful in the battalion, the matter was a most serious one; i therefore sent for the battalion commander, adjutant-major mohammed effendi farag, and told him what i had heard. he appeared greatly surprised, and assured me he knew nothing of the matter, and that he should not fail to unearth the plot and bring the ringleaders to justice. i ordered him to maintain the strictest secrecy, and do nothing which would raise the slightest suspicion. whilst he was with me i sent for my servant and handed him a bag full of money, telling him to take it to the woman and instruct her to invite the various persons concerned to her house the next day, and give them an exceptionally good entertainment at her own expense; at the same time i told my servant to induce her to let him hide somewhere in the house where he could overhear what was said; and that if she could carry out these directions to my satisfaction i should reward her handsomely. soon after, my servant returned, telling me he had arranged everything. the day following the entertainment i again sent for the adjutant-major, and was now able to communicate to him the names of six of the ringleaders, whom i ordered him to instantly arrest; moreover i was able to give him the details of the design and the actual date of its intended execution. in half an hour he returned with the six prisoners, whose hands were tied behind their backs. they comprised one sergeant, three corporals, and two lance-corporals,--all of the fur tribe. they were accompanied by a crowd of kavasses and spectators, whom i sent off; and then, in the presence of their commanding officer, i asked them what instigated them to revolt against the government. they absolutely denied having any such intention, and assured me of their innocence. "but," said i, "i know perfectly well you have been holding meetings in the house of your compatriot khadiga. i gave you plenty of time to come to reason, but you grew daily more rebellious. yesterday you were all with khadiga, drinking marissa, and you agreed that the day after to-morrow you would execute your plan. your object was to join with your friends in the third, fourth, and fifth companies, take your arms, open the western gate of the fort, and desert to sultan abdullahi, and, if necessary, to have recourse to force to carry out your design. did you not assert yesterday, sergeant mohammed, that you had almost two hundred men at your disposal? you see now i know everything, and it is useless to deny it." they listened in silence; they knew they had been discovered, and now they freely confessed and asked for my pardon. "that is out of my hands," i replied. "go now with your commandant and confess openly that you are guilty in the presence of the other officers of the battalion; the law shall then decide." i then instructed the commandant to assemble a court-martial, and to arrange that all the non-commissioned officers should be present whilst the evidence was being taken; but at the same time i warned him to let it be understood by all (as i was afraid that some of the men might desert through fear) that other men implicated in the case should not be punished, as i held the non-commissioned officers alone responsible. the same afternoon the proceedings of the case, with the full confessions, were brought to me, but without the sentence. i therefore returned them to the court to give sentence, and soon afterwards the commandant returned. the court had sentenced them to death, but recommended them to mercy. in my opinion an example was absolutely necessary, and though it was pain and grief to me, i confirmed the sentence of death, which was ordered to be carried out at once. the regulars and irregulars were marched to an open space outside the zariba; six graves were dug, and the condemned men, who showed no signs of fear, after saying two rakas (short prayers), were led to the brinks of the graves, and there shot dead by the six detachments. i spoke to the assembled men, warning them that any one again found guilty of mutinous or seditious conduct would undoubtedly suffer the same penalty, and i sincerely trusted this would be the first and last case of the kind that should ever be brought to my notice. i hoped we should all be better friends in the future, and that times would improve. i then ordered the garrison to march back to the fort. i was upset and sad. i thought of the number of good men lost in our fights, and now i was forced to take the most extreme measures to maintain discipline. on all sides intriguers were doing their utmost to impair my authority, quite ignoring the fact that should they succeed they would be no better off,--indeed, times were to come when they would be only too glad to obey the orders of the european they now so detested. that evening i sent for mohammed effendi farag, and questioned him about the day's proceedings, and whether the men had been impressed by the execution; remarking at the same time that the soldiers must thoroughly understand their non-commissioned officers fully deserved the punishment they received, and moreover that it was an act of great leniency on my part not to take action against the other men implicated in the plot. "now, farag effendi," said i, "i want you to be thoroughly true and straightforward with me. i know that you are friendly-minded towards me, otherwise i should not certainly have asked you to come and speak with me alone. tell me, how am i regarded personally by the men and the officers, excepting, of course, those who are selfishly seeking their own interests?" "although not accustomed to such severe discipline," he answered, "they are fond of you, and you are beloved by the men because you pay them regularly, which was not formerly the case. besides, they much appreciate your custom of distributing the plunder amongst them. but this year we have had very heavy losses, and the men are getting tired of continual fighting." "but," said i, "we have to fight. i do not go out on expeditions to make conquests or gain honour and glory; personally, i would much prefer rest and peace." "of course i quite understand that," said farag effendi, "still, these losses, which might have been avoided, have greatly affected the men. one man has lost his father; another his brother; many have lost friends and relatives; and if this goes on they will become disinclined to fight." "i also quite understand that," i replied. "although i have not lost a father or brother, still i have lost friends; and i risk my precious life equally with my officers and men. i am always with them, and am just as liable to be struck by bullets and spears as they are." "they are well aware of that," he answered, "and you should give them credit for their obedience to foreigners, with whom they are always ready to risk their lives." "certainly i am a foreigner and a european," i said; "and i have no reason to make a secret of it, or be ashamed of it. is this what they object to? now, tell me truly?" mohammed farag was one of my best-educated officers. he had studied in various schools in cairo, but had been taken as a conscript; he was one of those rare men who acknowledge others' merits, and was always ready to learn from those he thought better educated than himself. he was neither fanatical nor religious, but he was a grumbler, and rather hot-tempered. these were, i think, his only bad qualities, and they had led him to commit some crime, for which he had been banished to the sudan. when i now called upon him to tell me the truth he threw up his head and looked straight at me and said, "well, you wish me to tell you the truth, then here it is: they do not object to you on account of your nationality, but on account of your faith." at last i had drawn out of him what i was so anxious to know. "why on account of my faith?" i asked. "during all these years that i have been in darfur they knew that i was a christian, and yet no one ever said a word to me." "ah!" said he, "the times were very different then, and much better; but now that this rascally dongolawi has made a cloak of religion, he has adherents everywhere who purposely incite the people so as to attain their own evil ends. the idea has got about in the battalion (i do not know who started it) that in this religious war you will never be able to gain a victory, and that in every battle you fight you will suffer great losses, till at length you yourself will be killed. you can perfectly understand how an ignorant soldier would credit all this, and how he would impute it to the fact of your being a christian. our men are far too stupid to realise that our losses are due to the vastly superior strength of the rebels, and that as we have no chance of being relieved, so we must go on suffering defeat." "suppose that i now turned mohammedan," said i, "would my men believe in me and hope for victory? and would that give them more confidence in me?" "of course the men would believe you," said he,--"at least the majority of them; have you not taken every opportunity of showing respect to our religion, and even caused it to be respected by others? they will trust you implicitly; but will you change your faith from conviction?" he asked, smiling. "mohammed effendi," said i, "you are an intelligent and well-educated man; here conviction has nothing to do with the case. in this life one has often to do things which are contrary to one's persuasions, either by compulsion or from some other cause. i shall be quite content if the soldiers believe me and abandon their silly superstitions. whether others believe me or not, is a matter of indifference to me. i thank you most sincerely; keep our conversation entirely to yourself. good night!" mohammed effendi farag now left, and after a few minutes' deliberation i resolved to present myself to the troops the following morning as a mohammedan. i was perfectly well aware that in taking this step i should be placing myself in a curious position, which could not fail to be condemned by some. however, i made up my mind to do it, knowing that i should thereby cut the ground from under the feet of these intriguers, and should have a better chance of preserving the province with which the government had intrusted me. in my early youth my religious ideas were somewhat lax; but at the same time i believed myself to be by conviction as well as by education a good christian, though i was always inclined to let people take their own way to salvation. the simple fact was that i had not been sent to the sudan as a missionary, but as an official of the egyptian government. at sunrise the next morning, i sent for the adjutant-major, and ordered him to have all the troops paraded and to wait for me; i then sent word to zogal to summon before me the kadi, ahmed wad beshir, and the chief merchant, mohammed ahmed. when they came i talked to them on general matters, and then told them to come on parade with me inside the fort, only a few hundred paces from my door. taking command of the parade, i ordered the troops to form square, and, mounted on horseback, i then entered it, accompanied by the officers, attendants, and officials. "soldiers!" said i, "we have passed through many hard times together; the presence of danger shows what a man is made of. you have fought and endured bravely, and i am certain you will continue to do so. we fight for our master the khedive, the ruler of this country, and for our lives. i have shared with you your joys and your sorrows. where danger was to be faced i was there with you, and that shall ever be my place. although i am your chief, my life at such times is of no more value than yours." "allah yetawel umrak! allah yekhallik!" (may god give you long life! may god preserve you!) shouted most of the men. i then continued, "i hear that i am considered a foreigner and an unbeliever. you also all belong to different tribes; my birth-place is far away, it is true, but i am not a foreigner. i am not an unbeliever; i am as much a believer as you. ashhadu inna la ilaha illallah wa inna mohammed rasul allah!" (i bear witness that there is no god but god, and mohammed is his prophet). on my uttering these words the soldiers raised their rifles, shook their lances, and shouted out congratulations to me, whilst the officers and officials advanced and shook hands with me. when order was restored, i told them that i should openly attend prayers with them, and, ordering the men to re-form, farag effendi gave the "present arms," and the men then marched off to their quarters. when everything was over, i invited zogal bey, my former companion, and the officers to remain and partake of food and coffee with me; they then bade me good-bye, assuring me of their delight, fidelity, and obedience. they made as if they credited me with my convictions, and i gave them equally to understand that i believed in the reality of their feelings and sentiments (though i well knew how little they were really worth). when they left i told farag effendi to select twenty of the best oxen from our stock and distribute them amongst the men as "karama" (sacrificial offerings), as well as one ox for each officer, at my own expense. the effect on the men of the step i had now taken was much greater than i expected; there was no longer any reluctance to be sent on expeditions, although our enemies were increasing daily in number and strength. it will be remembered that i had sent gabralla and ahmed katong some time before to sirga and arebu--a country which had been desolated by war and was peopled by the ignorant fur tribe--with instructions to collect a force of his own people in these districts, and uphold the government authority there. instead of doing so, however, he had sold them as slaves to the gellabas after a peculiar method of his own. despatching messengers to the gellabas with orders to come to him at once under pain of punishment, he then insisted on each of them marrying three or four women, and instructed the latter to depart with their new husbands, accompanied by their brothers and sisters. many of the former husbands having been killed in the wars, it happened that most of the women thus disposed of were widows; but should any of them happen to have husbands, the latter gabralla threw into chains and compelled them to work in the fields. for each human being thus made over to the gellabas he received a small sum of money. when these extraordinary proceedings had been brought to my notice, i had ordered the roads to be watched, and it was not long before a batch of newly married women and their relatives was seized; i had sent for gabralla and put him in chains, and about twenty months later i had released him on bail; but shortly afterwards he had disappeared, together with his guarantor, and had joined the beni helba, who, after the murder of afifi, had actively joined in the revolt. next to the rizighat, the beni helba was the most powerful tribe in darfur, and they soon began worrying the tagu and messeria arabs, who had up to now remained faithful, and lived in the neighbourhood of dara. i therefore resolved to attack them, but before doing so sent a message to beshari bey wad bekir, warning him that he must make no more incursions. although my letter remained unanswered, it seemed that my threatening attitude had had some effect, for the neighbouring tribes were not further molested. merchants whom i paid to send me news from kordofan informed me that reinforcements were daily arriving at khartum from cairo, and that the government was hurrying on preparations for the despatch of the expedition, under european officers, to retake kordofan; whilst the entire population without exception had joined the mahdi, and were determined to offer a powerful resistance. in darfur all the southern tribes were now in open revolt; but thanks to our military posts and to the fact that the northern tribes had been in contact with egypt, from which they had derived considerable benefit through the caravan routes, they had hitherto shown no hostility. of course it had been for long impossible to gather taxes in any part of the country; i had, therefore, paid the troops out of our reserve stores. the mahdi's continual victories were at last beginning to tell openly on zogal bey, and i noticed a distinct change in his conduct, though he still appeared loyal and submissive. it was abundantly clear to me that in his heart he wished all success to his cousin, the mahdi, because he knew that, in that eventuality, he would be one of the first to reap tangible benefits. he was a man much liked by the officials under him; fairly well educated for a sudanese, he was ever ready to do a favour when his own pocket was not thereby touched, and he got the character of being liberal. he was very wealthy, and kept up an enormous household in great state. he kept an open table, and his popularity amongst the officials was, i think, in a large measure due to the fact that, as acting governor, he had freely pardoned past offences, and took no steps to prevent them enriching themselves in all sorts of illicit ways. through his influence, most of his relatives had secured good positions and become wealthy. he was, therefore, a man with whom i had to reckon somewhat circumspectly. his popularity, coupled with the fact that he generally concurred in and executed my orders, rendered an open split with him undesirable, and would have certainly led to a diminution of my authority; i was therefore inclined to let him alone for the present. "ebed en nar an el kotn wa enta tertah" (keep fire away from cotton, and you will be at ease), as the arabs say, seemed to me to thoroughly apply in this case, and to that principle i adhered. summoning farag effendi, wad asi, and kadi el beshir, all of whom were loyal to government, and prayed from their hearts for its success, i communicated my plans to them, in the strictest secrecy, and obtained their full concurrence. when they had left me i summoned zogal, and now conversed with him quite alone. "zogal," i began, "you and i are perfectly alone here, and god is our witness. for years we have eaten bread and salt together, and although from the day i arrived i have been your superior, our relations with each other have been rather those of a friendly than of an official nature. i now ask you to do two things for me,--trust me and render me a service." "well, mudir umum" (governor-general), he replied, "you are my superior; tell me what you want and i shall obey." "your cousin the mahdi," said i, "has now conquered kordofan, el obeid has fallen, and the entire population has joined him. the country between us and government is in his hands. his extraordinary success has inclined your heart to him; have you forgotten all the favours you have reaped from government? are you unmindful of the distinction bestowed upon you by the khedive, in the shape of a decoration and rank obtained for you through the good offices of the government? have you forgotten the duties required of you from your position? speak, is it not so?" "it is so," replied zogal, quickly; "the mahdi is my cousin, and i cannot deny that our blood-relationship has inclined me to him. still, hitherto i have faithfully performed my duties, and i trust i shall continue to do so in the future." "speaking generally," i replied, "you have performed your duties well; but i am told you are in communication with the mahdi; why should you hide this from me?" "i do not communicate directly," replied zogal, quickly; "but merchants coming from kordofan give me verbal messages from him, and i have sworn to the bearers of these messages that i would not tell you; that is why i kept it secret. but i assure you that they only referred to news from kordofan, and no attempt has been made to win me to his cause." "well, let it be," said i, "i do not want you to justify yourself; but, tell me, what have you heard about this expedition which the government is preparing to send to retake kordofan?" "i have heard," replied he, "that a large expedition has arrived at khartum, and that they are going to try and reconquer the country." "not only will they try, but they will effect the reconquest of the country," i answered. "now, zogal, you are a man of sense and intelligence: it must be perfectly clear to you that, if compelled by circumstances, i am still sufficiently powerful to make you harmless; but i do not think this would be an advantageous step to take, and it would pain me deeply to take action against a man like yourself, who has served the government loyally for many years, and has always befriended me. i will therefore discharge you for the present, and you may now go to kordofan with my full consent. religious movements, such as that now going on, have a certain amount of glamour from a distance, and induce sympathy; but when examined more closely, they are neither so seductive nor so alarming. i shall intrust you with letters to the government which i want you to send secretly to khartum, and which will inform them of the nature of your mission. as the expedition will probably start for kordofan next month, i want you to do your utmost to prevent the mahdi sending a force into darfur or despatching proclamations to the tribes inciting them to revolt. if you can arrange this, it will be of advantage both to him and to you. should the expedition succeed, i will take all responsibility for your conduct on my shoulders, and you need have no fear; but if the mahdi is successful,--which god forbid,--then we shall be entirely cut off from all hope of relief, and will probably be compelled to submit, in which case it shall be of advantage to him to have the country handed over in fairly good condition. as a guarantee for the loyal conduct of your undertaking, i shall keep your wives, children, and households in the fort here. the mahdi will respect this, and for your sake will not run the risk of endangering their lives." "i shall carry out your instructions," said zogal, "and prove to you that i am loyal. are you going to write a letter to the mahdi?" "no," i replied, "because i do not want to have any dealings with him. i know perfectly well that you will repeat the whole of this conversation to him. your cousin is very cunning, and, privately, will give me credit for having spoken the truth, and he will, no doubt, make as much capital as he can out of your mission; but as long as you hold loyally to your promise, i shall take every care of your family, and although you are nominally discharged, i shall continue to issue your pay in full; but should you fail to keep to the conditions of this arrangement, the guarantee will no longer hold good. i should like you to start as soon as possible, and in three days i shall expect you to be ready; i think that should be sufficient time." "i would prefer to stay here with my own people," said zogal; "but as you wish me to perform this mission, and to put my loyalty to the test, i shall carry it out, but with a sorrowful heart." sending now for farag effendi, wad asi, and the kadi, in zogal's presence i told them of the arrangement we had made; they showed much apparent surprise and excitement, and summoned zogal to swear a solemn oath of loyalty. he swore on the kuran by the oath of divorce[ ] that he would adhere truly and faithfully to the agreement made between us. i now wrote the necessary letters to the government, giving a brief account of the situation in darfur; and three days later, zogal, accompanied by three servants, left dara for el obeid, _via_ toweisha. it was well known he was a relative of the mahdi; he had therefore nothing to fear, and i subsequently learnt he was received everywhere with open arms. i now set to work to build fresh batteries at the angles of the fort, and collected all the corn i could find; but this short period of tranquillity did not last long. beshari bey wad bekir, chief of the beni helba arabs, instigated by his father-in-law, sheikh taher et tegawi, planned a raid on dara. in spite of my threatening letter, he had attacked the tagu and messeria arabs, killing a number of them, and capturing many women and children. in consequence, i placed two hundred and fifty regulars and one hundred bazingers under the command of mattar, one of zogal's relatives,--but i could only take twenty-five horses, as most of them had been attacked by some sort of disease,--and with this force i quitted dara. after three days' march we arrived at amaké, where i was attacked by the beni helba, under beshari bey, with whom was my old friend gabralla; they were in considerable force, but had few fire-arms, and we succeeded in beating them off and dispersing them without much difficulty. the next day they attacked us again at kalambasi,--a march of a day and a half from amaké; but here again we put them to flight with equal ease. our insignificant losses on both occasions were ascribed by my men to the efficacy of my friday prayers with them, and not to the small number of fire-arms possessed by our enemies. we now advanced on hashaba which was the head-sheikh's village, turned him out, and then offered to conclude peace with him. in reply to my letter, one of beshari bey's relatives, named fiki nurein, arrived, asking my terms. i demanded two hundred horses and two thousand oxen. he returned to his people, and came back to me the following day, saying that they were prepared to conclude peace, but thought my terms very hard; and as i was anxious to settle matters without delay, i agreed to accept half the original demand, on condition that they absolutely refrained from further aggression, and agreed to send back the women and children captured from the friendly tribes. i now returned to dara; but fiki nurein arrived two days later, and said that, to the great regret of beshari bey, his arabs had rejected the terms of peace, though he himself was perfectly prepared to accept them. this change of front had been brought about by sheikh tegawi's daughter, who had called her husband a coward for making peace, and therefore, in honour bound, he was obliged to continue fighting. fiki nurein told me he had been commissioned by beshari bey to offer me his best thanks for having sent him some barley cakes covered with sugar, when i had been obliged to turn him out of his house. it happened that just before starting on my last expedition, zogal's wife had sent me some exactly similar cakes, which i had handed over to my servants; as they were still untouched, i gave them to fiki nurein to take to beshari bey with my compliments, and he left with a sorrowful heart, feeling convinced that in the next fight he must be defeated. i now left for hashaba, and proceeded thence to guru, about half a day's march further on. on the way, the twelve mounted scouts in advance were suddenly attacked by beshari bey alone, who broke through their line, wounded one of them slightly, and then, turning to the left, he drew his horse up between the scouts and my main body, at the edge of the forest and about eight hundred yards from us. advancing some three hundred paces closer, i recognised him, but purposely did not shoot; instead, i sent one of my boys, unarmed, to him, saying, "isa, give my compliments to beshari bey, and tell him that if he wants to show his wife how brave he is, he should set about it in a different way; if he repeats this manoeuvre he will certainly be killed." the road was fairly open, with trees only here and there; and as we marched on i could see my servant standing for a few seconds before beshari bey, and then returning towards us; on reaching us, he said, "beshari bey sends you his compliments; he says he has no wish to live any longer, and seeks death." deluded man, he soon found it! arriving at guru, we constructed a zariba, and the owner of the village, which was close by, now came forward and asked us for peace and protection, which was of course given him. he was a gellaba named ahmed wad serug, who had settled here many years before. he now told me that beshari's nephew rahmatalla had, since yesterday, been seeking an opportunity to come in and ask for pardon, but had been afraid to do so, and was concealed in the forest close by. i told ahmed to go out and offer him pardon and peace and bring him in. that evening at sunset he arrived, bare-headed and barefooted, and made the most profuse promises of fidelity, saying he would do his utmost to induce his tribe to stop fighting. he admitted that the majority of the arabs were not anxious to prolong the war, but were continually incited by sheikh tegawi. nothing happened the next day, but that evening rahmatalla brought in two arabs with the news that sheikh beshari had collected all the available horse and spear men, and intended attacking us in the morning. mohammed bey tia and sultan abakr el begawi had just joined me with forty horsemen; i had now, therefore, at my disposal some seventy irregular cavalry. my zariba lay close to the wells in an open spot with a good view in all directions. at sunrise the following morning i saw the first signs of the enemy at the edge of the forest to the south. feeling sure that beshari's ill-considered dash would make him attack the zariba, i ordered the troops to move out about three hundred paces, whilst i posted the cavalry on the flank and sent forward about twenty horsemen to try and decoy the arabs out of the wood. the latter had barely started when i saw two mounted arabs dashing at them full speed, with lances lowered; they were beshari bey and his attendant. before he reached my men his horse stumbled and fell; and while his companion was holding his horse to enable him to mount, my horsemen seized the occasion to attack him, and, a thrown spear striking him full in the eye, he fell, whilst his attendant was struck by a spear in the back and killed. meanwhile i had galloped up to the spot, and there i found beshari bey lying dead: my men had twice plunged a huge spear into his body. his son abo, who had dashed out to his aid, was also wounded, but succeeded in escaping, though two other sheikhs who had accompanied him--shartia habiballa and et tom--were killed. seizing their horses, i now called out to the regulars to advance; and on their arrival i ordered each of the horsemen to take up an infantryman behind him and pursue the arabs, who i felt sure would not attempt to stand after the death of their leaders. after a gallop of about two miles we came up with the flying arabs, and, ordering the regulars to dismount and fire, i turned the horsemen against the mounted beni helbas. no quarter was given, as my men were determined to avenge the death of sheikh afifi, who had been killed near here. after a few hours the rout was complete, and we now returned to the zariba. on our way back we stumbled across beshari's body, beside which sadly sat his nephew, rahmatalla. my officers at once asked to be allowed to cut off his head and send it to dara; but out of respect to his nephew, who had pleaded yesterday for peace, i prevented them from doing this, giving over the body to him, with a piece of calico in which to enshroud it, and i myself attended the burial of my old friend who had fought against us,--contrary to his own convictions,--and who, seeking death, had now found it. in this engagement we lost two killed and several wounded, amongst whom was the faithful salama, who had taken my letter from om waragat to dara, and who was ever foremost in pursuit. the following day i sent spies to roro, sheikh tegawi's village, and hearing he was there, i resolved to surprise him that night. i arrived in the early morning, but found the nest empty,--my bird had flown: he had evidently got wind of my coming; my men, however, seized all the portable things they could find in his house, and then set it and the village on fire. i now returned to guru. the disease of _filaria medenensis_ (guinea-worm) had broken out in the upper part of my leg and in both feet, and caused me such excruciating pain that i could scarcely remain in the saddle. having crushed the beni helbas, it was useless for me to remain out any longer; i therefore handed over the command to mohammed bey tia, and told him to take every occasion to chastise the arabs, but on no account to penetrate into the taaisha country. the latter had previously written to me expressing loyalty to the government, and, curious to relate, this tribe, to which khalifa abdullahi belonged, was one of the few in the whole of the egyptian sudan which, in spite of tribes revolting all around them, remained neutral. i now wrote to them that should the beni helba attempt to take refuge in their country, they might seize their flocks and herds, and i should not ask them to give them back. accompanied by ten men, i now returned to dara. up to the present, fasher had been left undisturbed, and hitherto the tribes in the neighbourhood had not shown any open signs of hostility; but the chief of the station at om shanga had refused to attend to my order to return to dara, having been bribed by the merchants to remain, and had been attacked by the arabs; he had succeeded, however, in repulsing them, though the road was still cut, and one of my faithful sheikhs, hassan bey om haj, had passed over to the enemy. about a fortnight later, mohammed bey tia returned to dara with a large amount of plunder: exclusive of the quantities he had distributed on his own account, he brought with him no less than three thousand oxen and a few horses. the latter i made over to the men, and also divided between them and the loyal arabs a thousand oxen; another thousand i handed over to farag effendi to keep with the general reserve; and the remaining thousand i exchanged for corn and cotton stuffs. in spite, however, of our success against the beni helba, our situation was anything but satisfactory. all eyes were directed to the mahdi, in kordofan; he had representatives and agents everywhere, who were inciting the people to revolt. in the province of dara, besides the taaisha, messeria, and tagu arabs, those in the districts of bringel and shieria were also quiet; but i ascribed this fact to the proximity of the fort, for they were well aware that should they revolt, they would be in the greatest danger. chapter viii. hicks pasha's expedition. the execution of said pasha and the brave defenders of el obeid--spread of belief in the mahdi's divinity--sheikh sennusi is offered, but refuses, the position of mahdi's khalifa--the mahdi begins to organise his government--the spread of the revolt in the gezira--criticisms on the attitude of the egyptian government--the despatch of osman digna to the eastern sudan--hicks pasha's expedition enters kordofan--incidents on the march--gallantry of colonel farquhar--the diaries of farquhar and vizetelly--the desertion of gustav klootz--the mahdists harass the expedition--the final attack on the doomed square--incidents after the battle--extracts from o'donovan's diary--the mahdi's triumphal entry into el obeid. after the capture of el obeid the mahdi turned all his attention to increasing his power. his adherents on the river kept him very fully informed of all that passed. he was aware that abdel kader had applied to cairo for reinforcements, which had arrived, and he did not doubt the government would do all in its power to reconquer its lost provinces; that was his reason for so constantly preaching the jehad, and reminding his followers that a great war was impending, in which they would be victorious. giegler pasha had been successful at duem in november, , and at the end of january, , abdel kader pasha had scored a signal success at maatuk. but the mahdi paid little attention to these defeats; he was principally concerned with the news that an expedition was being prepared in khartum, under european officers, for the reconquest of kordofan. meanwhile mohammed pasha said thought it his duty to draw up a report justifying the surrender of el obeid, which he intended to send to khartum. he exposed the courage and endurance of the garrison who had been at length obliged to capitulate, after having been more than decimated by famine and disease, and he explained that they were still thoroughly loyal, and longed for the success of the government arms. this document was signed and sealed by all the officers, said pasha and ali bey sherif heading the list, and also by ahmed bey dafalla and mohammed yasin; it was then given to an arab, who was promised a large reward if he took it to khartum. amongst the officers who signed was a certain yusef mansur, formerly police officer at el obeid, but who had been dismissed by gordon, sent to khartum, and afterwards allowed to return to el obeid, where he had settled. fearing that the report might be intercepted, and that he might suffer with the others, he, to show his fidelity and submission to the mahdi, fell at khalifa abdullahi's feet, confessed everything, and earnestly entreated for pardon, which was granted. on his way home he met another officer, named mohammed bey skander, whom he also urged to seek the khalifa's pardon; and the latter, although he cursed his friend for his cowardice, thought that now the secret was out he had better save himself, so he, too, begged the khalifa's forgiveness. the arab letter-carrier was intercepted and thrown into chains, and of course the occasion was taken advantage of to spread far and wide the story that the mahdi had discovered this plot by direct inspiration from the prophet. this gave him a ready pretext to make away with his enemies. all those who signed the document were seized, and, after consultation between the mahdi and his khalifas, it was decided they should be banished. said pasha was sent to aluba, where he was handed over to the tender mercies of ismail delendok; ali bey sherif was sent to nawai, sheikh of the hawazma; while ahmed bey dafalla and yasin were sent to madibbo at shakka. of the other officers, some were exiled to the nuba mountains, and others to dar homr. yusef mansur and mohammed bey skander were the only officers allowed to remain at el obeid, and the former, in order to mark his fidelity to the cause, was made commandant of the mahdi's artillery. soon afterwards, in accordance with his orders, said pasha was killed with axes, and ali bey sherif was beheaded, while abdullahi, who had, on the day after ahmed bey dafalla's departure, taken his wife as his concubine, despatched one of his relatives, yunes wad ed dekeim, to shakka with orders to have both dafalla and yasin executed in the presence of madibbo. such was the end of the four men who had so bravely defended el obeid, and in truth they deserved a better fate! it was about this time that fiki minna, of the powerful gowama arabs, having quarrelled with abdullahi, thought to make himself independent; but the mahdi, knowing how serious would be a split, did not hesitate to send a large force against him under abu anga, abdulla wad nur and abderrahman wad en nejumi. fiki minna was surprised, seized, and instantly executed, and the mahdi lost no time in at once despatching proclamations ordering the tribes to leave their districts and join him. to these assembled multitudes he now preached more fervently than ever, urging them to renounce the pleasures of this life, and think only of the life to come. "ana akhreb ed dunya wa ammer el akhera" (i destroy this world, and i construct the world to come), was his endless theme. to those who were obedient he promised pleasures in paradise beyond all the heart could conceive; but the disobedient he threatened with condign punishment and hell-fire. circulars written in this sense were despatched far and wide, and the emirs were enjoined to allow only those to remain in their districts whose services were absolutely necessary for the cultivation of the lands, but that all others must forthwith immigrate to him and range themselves under his banners. men, women, and children now flocked in hundreds of thousands to el obeid to see this holy man and catch even a word of his inspired doctrine; and the ignorant multitudes saw in his face and person what they believed to be truly "a man sent from god." dressed only in a jibba and sirual (drawers), with a belt of gus, or straw, round his waist, and wearing a mecca takia (skull-cap), round which was bound a muslin turban, he stood with all humility before his followers, preaching of love to god and the cause, and of the necessity of renouncing the vanities of this world. but once in his house it was quite another matter; here he lived in a state of grandeur and luxury, and became a slave to those passions for food and women to which the sudanese are so addicted. should any women, young girls, and slaves be captured, they were brought before him, and all the prettiest and the best found a home in his harem; whilst the maid-servants, who were versed in all the arts of the most approved sudan cooking, were relegated to his kitchen. after the siege of el obeid he considered whom he should appoint as his fourth khalifa, and decided that mohammed es sennusi, the most influential religious sheikh in north africa, should be nominated; he therefore despatched taher wad ishak, of the zaghawa tribe, with a letter to him to that effect; but sennusi treated the offer with scorn, and left the letter unanswered. the mahdi now set to work to regulate his government. his administration was based on very simple lines. first of all he established the beit el mal, or treasury, over which he placed his faithful friend ahmed wad suleiman. in this treasury were deposited the tithes (ushr) and the fitra and zeka (alms for the poor, two and a half per cent) on all booty taken in war as well as confiscated property, and fines for theft, drinking, and smoking. there was no system to regulate the revenue and expenditure. ahmed wad suleiman was, therefore, free to give what he liked to whom he pleased. jurisdiction was placed in the hands of the kadi, who was called by the mahdi "kadi el islam," and several assistants. ahmed wad ali, who had formerly been kadi at shakka under me, and who had been one of the foremost in the storming of el obeid, was the first to hold this high position. of course the mahdi and his khalifas reserved to themselves the right to punish all crime--more especially anything connected with doubt or suspicion as to the divine nature of the mahdi--with death. as such judgments were in entire opposition to the sharia (or moslem religious law) as taught, the mahdi strictly forbade the study of theology, and ordered all books of this description to be burnt; the kuran alone being allowed to be read, though even this he did not permit to be openly expounded. communication between the mahdi and the inhabitants of the gezira, who now looked upon themselves as his most devoted adherents, was of course frequent and detailed. he learnt of abdel kader's departure for kawa and sennar with a large force in february. that town had been besieged by ahmed el makashef; but the pasha inflicted a defeat on him at meshra ed dai, and had raised the siege. saleh bey had pursued the rebels as far as jebel sekhedi, and had driven them into the waterless plain between that place and kawa, where numbers perished from thirst. this district is still called by the local people, "tibki wa teskut" (you cry and are silent). these defeats, however, in no way diminished the mahdi's popularity; they relieved the situation for the soldiers and officials, it is true, but they only put off the evil day which was surely to come. had attention been paid to abdel kader pasha's advice, the whole situation in the sudan might have been changed. he was against the despatch of a large expedition to reconquer kordofan, but recommended the reinforcements coming from cairo should be garrisoned in strong defensive positions along the white nile, and that for the time being the rebels should be left to themselves. the military forces at his disposal were quite sufficient to stamp out the revolt in the gezira (island) between the blue and white niles, and to check the advance of the mahdists from the west. had this plan been adopted, and the rebels been left to themselves, it is more than probable the complete absence of any regulated system of administration would have soon resulted in discord breaking out, and gradually, at a later period, government would have been able to recover the ground it had lost. i certainly could not have preserved authority in darfur until that time; but even if that province were lost, it would undoubtedly have been the lesser of two evils. however, those at the head of the government in cairo thought otherwise. the edict went forth that the prestige of the government was to be restored at all costs, and this was to be effected by an army despatched under the english general hicks, assisted by other european officers; abel kader pasha was recalled, and relieved by ala ed din pasha, formerly governor-general of the eastern sudan. all these facts were known almost at once to the mahdi, and he took good account of them. meanwhile zogal had arrived at el obeid, where he had received an enthusiastic reception; one hundred guns were ordered to be fired in his honour, and it was reported far and wide that darfur had surrendered to the ever-victorious mahdi. zogal's return to darfur was considered quite a sufficient guarantee for the preservation of the province as a possession of the new ruler; consequently no force was despatched, and the mahdi now directed all all his attention to events on the nile. general hicks shortly after his arrival proceeded with a portion of his force to kawa, inflicted a defeat on the rebels at marabia ( april, ), and killed ahmed el makashef. amongst the various emissaries despatched to different parts of the country was osman digna, the former suakin slave-dealer, who was enjoined to raise the jehad in the neighbourhood of his own town. the mahdi showed much astuteness in selecting this man, who subsequently became so celebrated; and he rightly judged that a local revolt in the eastern sudan would in all probability seriously embarrass the khartum government, and delay, or perhaps put off altogether, the expedition about to be sent to kordofan. the details of the various encounters between this redoubtable emir and the government troops are too well known to require more than a mere passing reference here; suffice it to say that the operations in the eastern districts, although successful to the mahdists, did not have the effect of causing the government to alter their intention in regard to the kordofan expedition, and early in september, , the ill-fated hicks left khartum for duem, on the white nile, where he joined ala ed din pasha, who had been instructed to accompany the expedition. surely the situation in kordofan must have been misunderstood by the cairo authorities if they imagined that, by the despatch of this expedition, they would succeed in overturning the mahdi, who was then supreme ruler of these western districts in which every man was his most devoted adherent. did they not realise that the annihilation of rashed, shellali, and lutfi, as well as the fall of bara, el obeid, and a host of other towns had placed the mahdi in possession of a far larger number of rifles than those disposed of amongst hicks's force of ten thousand men? were they not aware that these rifles were now in the hands of men who thoroughly understood how to use them,--men who had been owners of bazingers, who were elephant and ostrich hunters, and had now at their command contingents of reliable fighting material? besides, were there not now enrolled under the mahdi's banners thousands of regulars and irregulars who had been formerly in the government service? did they imagine for a moment that all these men, when the chance came, intended to desert and join hicks? no; they seemed to realise nothing of this, and, on completely wrong presumptions, they risked the lives of thousands. surely there were those amongst the government advisers who had sufficient knowledge of the sudan to realise how fully the negro proverb applied in this matter: "illi beyakhud ummi hua abuya" (he who marries my mother is my father). the mahdi had conquered the country, and had thus metaphorically married their mother; him, therefore, they had fully accepted as their lord and master. what do those people care about good actions and kindnesses previously done to them? i do not, of course, deny that to this general rule there are not exceptions; yet unquestionably my remarks, severe as they are, apply to the majority. ten thousand men in square formation, with six thousand camels in their midst, were to march through districts overgrown with vegetation and grass taller than a man's height; at most they could not see more than two hundred or three hundred yards to their front, in the little open patches where the sparse population had cultivated small clearings. they must be ready at any moment for the attack of an enemy far more numerous and as well armed as themselves, besides being infinitely better fighters, and who to this day pride themselves on their bravery and headlong dash. along almost the entire route by which the army was to march there were scarcely any wells, though plenty of stagnant rain-pools; and when they had drunk up the water in them, what were they then to do? had they adopted the northern road, _via_ gebra and bara, they would at least have had the advantage of open ground and a good supply of water at certain places, which, if insufficient, could, with modern appliances, have been made amply sufficient for the whole force. at the same time the support of the powerful kababish tribe against the mahdists would have been assured, and the enormous train accompanying the force could thus have been greatly diminished. six thousand camels, huddled together in the centre of a square, presented a perfect forest of heads and necks; it was impossible for a bullet fired by one of the enemy from behind a tree to altogether miss this gigantic target: if it failed to strike in front, it would most certainly have its billet in the centre or rear. then again an advance might have been made by detachments, and the great baggage-train left under strong guard at either duem or shatt, the men merely advancing in light marching order, clearing the road north, south, and west, and establishing a military post whenever they had subdued a district. of course this plan would have taken some time--perhaps a year--to execute; but there was no hurry. then internal dissensions were rife,--hicks and his european officers on the one side; ala ed din pasha, his officials, and most of the egyptian officers on the other. and were not the troops composed mostly of the disbanded rabble of arabi pasha's army, which had just been defeated by the british? general hicks no doubt fully understood matters; and, replying to a question put to him by one of his friends at duem as to what he thought of the situation, he replied quietly, "i am like jesus christ in the midst of the jews." still, he marched off; perhaps he thought that if he refused to advance, his honour might be impugned. slowly moved the great mass of men and animals onward; the few inhabitants who lived in this part of the country had long since fled. now and then in the far distance arabs were seen watching the advance, and then disappearing from view. on one occasion hicks, looking through his glasses, observed some horsemen amongst the trees; halting the square, he ordered a division of irregular cavalry to advance and attack them. a few minutes later they returned in hopeless confusion; they had lost some killed and many wounded, and reported they had been attacked by a greatly superior force. hicks then despatched colonel farquhar with half a battalion of regulars to examine the spot where the skirmish had taken place. he reported that he found six cavalrymen lying dead, shot in the back; they had been completely stripped, but nothing was to be seen of the "powerful enemy;" there were the hoof-marks of at most ten horses, and no doubt by these the cavalry division had been put to flight. the following day three horsemen again appeared in sight, when colonel farquhar, accompanied only by his servants, galloped at them, killing two, and bringing in the third a prisoner. i was told of both these episodes by the survivors of the expedition, and they related how the huge square crawled forward like a tortoise. under the circumstances it was impossible to send out the camels to graze; they had to eat anything they could pick up in the square, and that was very little; of course they died in quantities. they used to eat even the straw pads of their saddles, and consequently the hard wood came down on their haunches and galled them till they became in a truly pitiable condition; still they dragged along, carrying not only their own loads, but those of their broken-down companions in misery. no doubt colonel farquhar, baron seckendorff, major herlth, the other european, and some of the principal egyptian officers did all they could to help general hicks in this critical situation, but the bulk of the army appeared to be utterly regardless of the impending catastrophe. poor vizetelly made his sketches, and o'donovan wrote his diary; but who was to send them home to those who were so anxiously awaiting them? no sooner did the mahdi learn that the expedition had started than he again sent proclamations to all the tribes, summoning them instantly to the jehad, with the usual promises of reward to those who obeyed, and of punishment to those who hung back. quitting el obeid himself, he encamped under an enormous adansonia tree near the town, and there he awaited the approach of the egyptians; his khalifas and emirs followed his example, and soon a gigantic camp of tukuls (straw huts) was formed. reviews were held daily, war-drums beaten, guns fired, and men and horses trained in all sorts of exercises, in preparation for the great battle. the emirs haggi mohammed abu girga, omar wad elias pasha, and abdel halim mussaid had already been sent to duem to watch the enemy's advance and cut their communications; but they were strictly forbidden to attack the main body of the army. before leaving, the real condition of the advancing force was known, and they begged the mahdi's permission to attack it, but it was refused. shortly before the expedition reached rahad, gustav klootz, a german non-commissioned officer, formerly baron seckendorff's, and latterly mr. o'donovan's, servant, foreseeing the almost certain annihilation of the force, deserted, with the intention of joining the mahdi. ignorant of the country, he wandered about, and the next morning was found by a small party of mahdists, who were about to kill him; but he endeavoured to make them understand, in his broken arabic, that he wanted to be taken to the mahdi, and, after robbing him of all he possessed, he was sent under escort to el obeid, three days distant. although clothed only as a servant, thousands of people crowded round to see this english general who had come to ask for terms of peace. he was brought before the mahdi, and, through the other europeans present, was questioned about the state of the expedition. gustav did not hesitate to say that it could not be worse, and that neither courage nor harmony existed amongst its ranks. naturally this news greatly pleased the mahdi; but gustav added that the army would not submit without a fight, and that in all probability it would be annihilated. immensely cheered by this information, the mahdi now summoned gustav to be converted to islam, in which he of course readily acquiesced, and he was then handed over for further care to osman wad el haj khaled. so confident of victory had the mahdi become after gustav's statement that he had hundreds of summonses written out and distributed along the road, calling on hicks and his officers to surrender. of course they were left unanswered; but at the same time they had their effect on many who were concerned about their own safety. others, on the contrary, used these papers in a manner which so irritated the mahdi that for long he visited his wrath on the unfortunate survivors who had dared to put to such contemptuous uses documents in which divinely inspired words were written. [illustration: a dervish emir.] prior to his departure from duem, hicks had been informed by the government that he would be joined _en route_ by six thousand men from jebel tagalla, as well as some hundreds of habbania arabs; and he daily expected to meet these, and thus revive the flagging courage of his demoralised men. but he waited in vain,--not a man came to him, nor did he ascertain a word of news. on quitting rahad he advanced to aluba in dar ghodayat, in the hope of obtaining an abundant supply of water there; and on the rd november he reached kashgeil, some thirty miles southeast of el obeid. meanwhile the mahdi had worked up his fanatical followers to a pitch of the wildest enthusiasm, and had told them the prophet had announced to him that on the day of battle they would be accompanied by twenty thousand angels, who would attack the unbelievers. on st of november he quitted el obeid for birket, where his followers, uniting with the force previously despatched to watch the square, now worried the tired and thirsty egyptians incessantly. on the rd november abu anga and his black jehadia, concealed in the thick forest and broken ground, poured a continuous fire on the square, which was forced to halt and zariba; and here human beings and animals, huddled together, offered a target which none could fail to hit. every moment a weary man, horse, camel, or mule would fall to the bullet of an invisible enemy; and for hours this decimation continued, whilst the wretched troops suffered agonies from thirst, and were unable to move in any direction. it was not till the afternoon that the enemy drew off just out of rifle range, and from this position kept careful watch on the square, as a cat would play with a mouse. their losses had been insignificant; one or two emirs, amongst them the son of elias pasha, had fallen,--and no wonder! his fanaticism had induced him to dash up almost alone to within a yard of the zariba. how terrible must have been the feelings of poor hicks! instead of water, his wretched men received a hail of lead,--yet only a mile off there was a large pool of rain water; but none in that doomed square knew the country, and even had they known, it was now too late to reach it. abu anga and his men, under cover of darkness, crept close up to the zariba, and all night long poured an incessant fire into this seething mass of men and animals. utterly demoralised, poor hicks's troops moaned, "masr fein, ya sitti zenab dilwakti waktek!" (where is egypt! oh, our lady zenab, now is your time to help us!) while the hardy blacks, lying flat on the ground within a few yards of the zariba, unharmed by the shower of bullets which passed overhead, would answer back "di el mahdi el muntazer" (this is the expected mahdi). the next morning ( th november), hicks continued the advance, leaving behind him a heap of dead and dying and a few guns, the teams of which had been killed; but ere he had proceeded a mile, he was attacked by at least one hundred thousand wild fanatics concealed amongst the trees. in a moment the square was broken, and a wholesale massacre took place. the european officers, with a few turkish cavalry, alone attempted to make a stand under the wide-spreading branches of a large adansonia tree; but, attacked on all sides, they were eventually killed almost to a man. the heads of baron seckendorff (who wore a full, light-coloured beard) and general hicks were cut off and sent to the mahdi, who at once summoned klootz (now known as mustafa) to identify them; but this seemed hardly necessary, as it was well known they had been killed. with the exception of two or three hundred who had escaped death by hiding themselves under the heaps of dead bodies, the entire force had been annihilated. little mercy was shown; a few of the survivors were pardoned, but the majority of them were subsequently executed. ahmed ed dalia, the mahdi's executioner, told me that he and yakub, khalifa abdullahi's brother, with a few hundred horsemen, came across a party of about one hundred egyptians who showed fight. through dalia, yakub sent them a message that their lives would be spared if they gave up their arms; but no sooner had they done so than he and his men, calling them unfaithful dogs, charged, and killed every one. one egyptian owed his life entirely to his presence of mind; becoming separated from the rest, he fled, but was followed by some gellabas, who caught him up. "do not kill me, o friends of the mahdi," he cried, "i know an art which will make you all wealthy men." their cupidity now aroused, they spared him, and promised to do him no harm if he would tell them his secret. "certainly i shall do so," he answered. "you have spared my life, you deserve to know my secret; but i am too exhausted to tell you now, take me before your master the mahdi, whom i long to behold; let me seek his pardon, and then i shall have rest and be able to make myself useful to you." taking him in their midst, they brought him before the mahdi, to whom they explained he was a man who had long since been convinced of his divine mission, but had not succeeded in coming to him before; he was pardoned, and swore to become henceforth his most devoted adherent. no sooner was he dismissed from the presence of the mahdi, than his captors surrounded him, and insisted on knowing his secret. sitting on the ground, he now said quite simply, "i used to be a cook, and know how to make very good sausages." irritated and insulted to a degree, the men would now have killed him; but he at once made his way to the mahdi, told him what had occurred, and begged for his protection. the mahdi laughingly called his would-be persecutors his compatriots, and ordered them to take every care of their fellow-countryman. [illustration: the death of hicks pasha.] after this immense victory, the mahdi and his khalifas now returned with their troops to birket, literally drunk with success. several emirs and their men had been left on the battle-field to collect the plunder and bring it to the beit el mal. the thousands upon thousands of dead bodies which lay piled up in heaps, were divested of every stitch of clothing. some time later the note-books of colonel farquhar and mr. o'donovan were sent to me. i read all they contained most carefully, and terribly sad reading it was! they both wrote much about the discord that existed, and of the quarrel between general hicks and ala ed din pasha. farquhar attacked his chief somewhat severely for his military mistakes. both had foreseen what had now occurred, and farquhar reproached him bitterly for having ever started with a force whose condition and _morale_ were such as to warrant certain disaster. the european officers got little assistance; apparently one of the few egyptian officers who helped them was a certain abbas bey. one passage in colonel farquhar's diary i well remember; he wrote, "i spoke to mr. o'donovan to-day, and asked him where he thought we should be eight days hence? 'in kingdom-come,' was his reply." o'donovan's journal was also written in much the same strain; he was greatly annoyed about klootz's flight, and quoted it as an instance of the general feeling existing in the force. "what must be the condition of an army," he remarked, "when even a european servant deserts to the enemy?" in another passage he wrote, "i make my notes and write my reports, but who is going to take them home?" some fifteen days afterwards, when all the plunder had been deposited in the beit el mal, the mahdi returned to el obeid. besides the guns, machine-guns, and rifles, a considerable sum of money had been found; but quantities of loot were carried off by the arabs, in spite of the barbarous punishments for theft enacted by ahmed wad suleiman: it was no uncommon thing for a thief to have both his right hand and left foot cut off. the cunning blacks had secreted quantities of arms and ammunition in the forests and in their own camps, which at a later period proved very useful to them. nothing could have exceeded the savage grandeur of the mahdi's triumphal entry into el obeid after the battle. as he passed along, the people threw themselves on the ground and literally worshipped him. there is not the slightest doubt that by his victory at shekan, the mahdi had now the entire sudan at his feet. from the nile to the red sea, from kordofan to the frontiers of wadai, all looked to this holy man who had performed such wonders, and they eagerly awaited his next move. those who had been already convinced of his divine mission were now of course more than ever his ardent supporters, and spread his fame far and wide; those who had doubted, doubted no longer; and the few who in their hearts understood the imposture, decided amongst themselves that if government was not strong enough to send a force sufficient to uphold its authority even in the nile districts, they must, against their own convictions, side with the stronger. several europeans and some egyptians living in the large cities and towns now realised the seriousness of the situation, and lost no time in making the best of their way out of the doomed country, or at any rate despatched north as much as they could of their portable property, well knowing that it was impossible to stay any longer in the sudan, across which the mahdi's hands now stretched from east to west. chapter ix. the fall of darfur. dara besieged by madibbo--i make a successful counter-attack--the overthrow of darho--i decide to remain at dara--the defeat of kuku agha--a strange expedient for concealing letters--an armistice proposed and accepted between myself and the besiegers--i resort to stratagem to gain time--zogal writes from el obeid, and describes the annihilation of the relief expedition--i review the situation and decide to surrender--interview with zogal at shieria--the mahdists enter dara--madibbo and his war-drums--horrible tortures inflicted on the inhabitants who had concealed money--the siege and fall of el fasher--letters from egypt--the dreadful fate of major hamada--the fall of bahr el ghazal--i leave for el obeid. by this time i had recovered from my disease (_filaria medenensis_), and felt strong enough to undertake another expedition; but the number of my trusted followers had sadly diminished, and our stock of rifle ammunition was getting very low. said bey guma still affirmed that it was impossible for him to send me any from fasher, owing to the fact that the zayedia and maheria arabs had begun to show signs of defection, and had been raiding cattle in the neighbourhood of the town, which they had refused to restore. all my hopes were now centred in the success of the hicks expedition. fortunately at that time i knew nothing of the route they had chosen, nor of the demoralised condition of the force. for almost a year i had received no news direct from khartum, and latterly, in order to keep up the spirits of the men, i had to have recourse to stratagem, by asserting that i had received news of great victories for the government forces. these scraps of news i of course concocted myself, and wrote out in the form of messages, which when received were read out with great _éclat_ before the assembled troops, and were greeted by the salute of guns and general rejoicings. as a matter of fact, about this time i did receive a little slip of paper from ala ed din pasha, informing me that his highness the khedive had officially appointed me commandant of the troops in darfur, and that it was the intention of the government to send a strong force to chastise the rebels and re-establish authority. i despatched copies of this note to fasher and kebkebia, with orders that it should be read publicly and salutes fired. i gave the bearer of the letter a public reception, and loaded him with presents; he announced that when he left khartum the expedition was being prepared, and described the force as certain to be victorious. those who really knew, hesitated to credit the glowing accounts of the appearance of the troops; but at the same time their hearts were full of glad expectation. a few days later, khaled wad imam, whom i had sent to kordofan to collect news, returned, and gave me a verbal message from zogal, as the latter thought it inadvisable to write; he sent me his best regards, and confirmed the news just received as to the intention of the government to despatch an expedition against the mahdi. khaled, however, told me privately that many refugees had reached el obeid from khartum, and had reported that several vultures had been seen hovering over the troops when they were out practising manoeuvres; and that this was a most unlucky omen for their success. he then proceeded to give me a detailed account of the mahdi and his doings, and after a time i had little doubt that at heart he had become one of his adherents; but i took good care not to let him see what i had discovered, and thanked him for his loyalty and good service; at the same time i gave secret instructions that he should be carefully watched. a few days afterwards a man was intercepted wandering off to shakka, bearing a letter from khaled to madibbo, in which he told him to be prepared to meet him shortly, in order to aid him in his enterprise. i was also informed by my servants, who were friendly with zogal's household, and to whom i gave money, in order to give the latter presents, that khaled was really zogal's secret and confidential agent, and was always at his house in the fort, where he made himself completely at his ease; that he had privately warned zogal's wives to be ready to fly with him, as the people in dara were soon to endure hard times; but that the women had refused to obey the summons, and had made a great commotion. i now ordered khaled to be seized and brought before me, he admitted he had received zogal's orders to take his wives away to some safe refuge beyond my jurisdiction, and his two special ones he had ordered to be brought to him in kordofan. it was on this account he had written to madibbo. it was now abundantly clear to me that zogal, influenced by his relative's enormous successes, had definitely decided to join him, and had thus broken the solemn agreement between him and myself. i now sent for zogal's brother, fiki nur, and some of his relatives, and in the presence of the kadi, the commandant and officers, i openly explained the situation, telling them that their relative was now disloyal to government and had broken his promise, and that therefore i considered they were all of his opinion and in consequence quite untrustworthy. of course they denied it; but i had them all arrested, placed khaled in chains, and had his and zogal's property confiscated and removed to the beit el mal, while that of the other persons arrested was sequestrated. sending the kadi to zogal's house, i told him to inform the women that they should stay where they were, and i should have them cared for as before; his bazingers, however, i incorporated with the government forces. amongst those arrested was zogal's son-in-law, idris, who, being of a different tribe, i proposed releasing; but he refused, and said he preferred to go to prison with his relatives. before being marched off, he asked to be allowed to speak to me privately, and then told me that, according to the custom of the country, it would be most dishonourable for him not to go to prison with the rest of the family, but he wished to assure me of his absolute loyalty. he then informed me that zogal, before his departure, had secretly assembled the three officers whom i imagined to be most loyal to me, and they had sworn to him that should he send them news that mohammed ahmed was really the mahdi, they would all join him. i thanked him for this most important information, the truth of which i had little reason to doubt, and at his own request i allowed him to go to prison with the rest. my difficulties were now increasing daily, one might almost say hourly. zogal's disloyalty did not disturb me very much, as i had long suspected it; but i was greatly put about by the unsatisfactory news of the state of the expeditionary force. zogal was, i knew, an astute man; had the news from khartum been really disquieting to the mahdi, i felt sure that he would have stayed at el obeid, according to our arrangement, to watch events; but now he had intentionally broken faith with me. could it be that he had been befooled by the mahdi's doctrines and preaching? i wish i could have thought this possible, but i knew him too well. he was, so to speak, playing his cards, with the absolute conviction that he would win; and so he did. madibbo now collected a force of horsemen and bazingers, and advanced to karshu, a day's journey south of dara, where he desolated the country and derided the beni helba for their timidity. taking fifty horsemen and one hundred and fifty regulars, i marched out from dara at night and surprised madibbo at sunrise. he was completely unprepared for this sudden attack, and barely escaped with his life on a horse which he mounted barebacked; but his entire camp fell into my hands, and we captured his well-known copper drums. unfortunately mohammed bey tia, one of my best and most faithful officers, and who was ever to the front in pursuit, was shot dead by some bazingers hidden behind the trees; i had also a few men killed and several wounded. but although we had scored a success, we could not be said to have inflicted a heavy defeat on our enemies; we had brushed them off as one drives flies off meat, only to let them settle again. a few days after my return to dara news arrived that the mima arabs had attacked the military post on the road to fasher, the garrison of which had been reduced by said bey guma to thirty men, all of whom had been killed. said bey informed me that he had despatched three hundred and fifty regulars and four hundred horsemen under omar wad darho to chastise them and re-occupy the post; but the messenger who brought this letter, and who had the greatest difficulty in reaching me, reported that the arabs were collected in considerable force, and were ready to attack the expedition on its arrival. a few days later, the faithful muslem wad kabbashi, sheikh of hilla shieria, brought me the mournful news of the complete overthrow of darho and his men. it appeared that darho had advanced against the mima at woda, where they had been joined by the khawabir, birket, and manasera arabs. he had begun the attack with his horsemen, who, driven back, retired in headlong flight on the infantry square, followed by an overwhelming number of arabs; the regulars, firing alike on friend and foe, were scattered by this living avalanche, and twelve only had escaped the slaughter, while of the four hundred horsemen, one hundred and eighty were saved; the gun, arms, and ammunition were all lost, and the road between fasher and dara was now completely cut. it was of immediate necessity to communicate with fasher; but i had the greatest difficulty in procuring messengers to take a letter to said bey guma, ordering him--if he had not already done so--to at once make all preparations for defence, buy up all the available corn in the town, and, if possible, carry out my previous instructions to withdraw the om shanga garrison. about a month previous to this event i had proposed to my officers to abandon dara and retire on fasher; but my suggestion had been unanimously vetoed. the question had of course two sides to it, and as i clung ardently to the hope that the expedition from khartum would succeed in relieving us, i did not force the project. should the egyptian army defeat the mahdi, then the whole of darfur would be saved; if, on the other hand, it should fail, then how could we at fasher stand against the whole sudan? my ammunition was running very low, and i was puzzled as to how to replenish my waning stock. i had sufficient powder and shells, but lead was my difficulty. however, i refilled the empty remington cases, by melting down the bullets for the percussion guns and muskets, of which a small quantity still remained, and i also made copper bullets out of the supply of that metal which was in store from the mines of hofret en nahas, and which i augmented by buying up the bracelets and anklets of the black women who much affected copper ornaments. muslem wad kabbashi now brought in news that abo bey, at the head of some mima and khawabir arabs, was encamped near shieria. i was unfortunately at this time suffering from fever, and was too weak to sit on a horse; but i could think of no one to whom i could intrust a large command, and therefore decided to send kuku agha, a brave sudanese, with only eighty men to attack abo bey, then only eight hours distant from dara. muslem wad kabbashi offered his services as guide, and they left that evening at sunset with our best wishes for their success. the following evening wad kabbashi returned wounded, accompanied by only ten men. "where are kuku agha and the soldiers?" said i, in a state of considerable agitation. "scattered or killed," he calmly answered. "but do not distress yourself, several are following after me; i left in all haste to bring you the news." "but how did it occur? tell me," i said. he now seated himself on the edge of my carpet, so as not to soil it with his blood, and began: "we marched all night with only one short halt; but abo bey, who had been largely reinforced the previous day, got news of our coming, and, ordering his camp-fires to be lighted, he went into ambush on our line of march. towards dawn he attacked us suddenly, when we were quite unprepared. in the dark i became separated from kuku agha, who was making for some rising ground to the north, whilst i began retiring to the south, with a few soldiers who had collected around me. alternately fighting and retiring, i at last reached here, and i hope that kuku agha is following with the remainder of the men." two days passed in anxious expectancy; only four men came in, and there was now no doubt that the rest had perished. omar wad darho's defeat, followed by this last disaster now greatly encouraged the rebels; and those who had been previously held back by fear, joined _en masse_. muslem wad kabbashi brought his family into dara, saying he preferred to conquer or die with us. hassan wad saad nur, whose pardon, it will be remembered, i had procured in khartum, and whom i had brought with me on my own guarantee to dara, to whom i had given a house just outside the fort, and, when his horse died of disease, i had given him another, and who, being a native of the place, i had intrusted with procuring news, now sadly disappointed me. unmindful of all the benefits i had bestowed on him, under the pretence of visiting a relative he mounted the horse i had given him, and rode straight to el obeid, where he became one of the mahdi's faithful followers. madibbo, enraged at the loss of his precious war-drums, which in the sudan counts as a disgraceful defeat, now collected all his arabs, and sent word to his neighbours to join him in laying siege to dara. for a long time past, communication with khartum had become impossible, the mahdists were fully on the alert, and any men i attempted to send with letters were invariably intercepted. on one occasion, when fighting against the beni helba arabs, i managed to send a letter to egypt by a caravan marching along the arbaïn road to assiut. but now the various methods of concealment which i had successfully employed, such as fixing letters between the soles of shoes or sandals, soldering them into the inside of ablution water-bottles, or placing them in hollow spear staves, had all been discovered. one morning, whilst inspecting the fort, i noticed some soldiers giving a donkey medical treatment. it was lame in the fore-leg; and, having thrown it on the ground, they proceeded to make an incision in the shoulder, in which they placed a small piece of wood, so as to tighten the skin, across which they made several transverse slits, and then, taking out the stick, poured in powdered natron. the idea at once struck me that i might conceal a letter in this way under the skin. i therefore procured a good-sized donkey, and, in the privacy of my own house, i repeated the operation i had just seen performed, inserting in the first cut a small note describing the situation, which i enclosed in a goat's bladder. the entire size of the communication in its cover did not exceed that of a postage stamp. i then sewed up the wound with silk thread, and the donkey walked without the smallest difficulty. the man to whom i intrusted this mission subsequently told me that he had delivered the packet to ala ed din pasha at shatt a day or two before the expedition started for el obeid, and the latter had told the messenger a reply was unnecessary, but that he should accompany the force to el obeid, whence he would despatch him to me with a letter. the various tribes, obedient to madibbo's summons, had now collected a day's march from dara. abdullahi om dramo, sheikh of the messeria arabs, alarmed that he should lose his property, had unwillingly joined madibbo, and it was through him i received this information. ismail wad barnu and bakr el begawi had also come to dara with their families for protection, and had constructed a small zariba for themselves about six hundred yards from the fort, which the rebels had attempted one night to attack, but had been driven off, with the assistance of some soldiers. i was now, however, in a sorry plight as regards ammunition. the total in charge of the men and in the magazines amounted to twelve packets per rifle; and if i had attempted to risk a fight, at least half would have been at once expended. relief i knew was still far off, and the question was how to hold out till then with this slender quantity of cartridges. in order to gain time, i now had recourse to the following stratagem. taking aside om dramo, whom i knew to be loyal to me, i told him to go to the rebels, and as it were on his own initiative, and without my knowledge, suggest to them they should propose an armistice. the same evening om dramo returned, and informed me that the enemy were in great strength, that the mahdi had summoned them to the jehad, and they called upon me to surrender. i told him to return to them and say that i was prepared to capitulate; but i would not agree to my life or that of my soldiers being intrusted to the hands of arabs against whom i had been continuously fighting for more than a year. i said, however, that should the mahdi despatch a special delegate to me, i was ready to make the necessary conditions of peace. om dramo left me with the promise that he would do his utmost to induce them to accept my proposition, and i also agreed that should a parley be necessary, i was prepared to meet them under the large adansonia tree, a few hundred yards from the fort. some hours later om dramo returned radiant, and told me that the arab chiefs, who had now been appointed emirs, fully concurred in my proposal, and were ready to meet me under the tree; madibbo had alone dissented, and urged the siege to be continued until i should be forced to surrender. i arranged for the meeting to take place at sunrise the following morning, and made a solemn oath to om dramo that should we not arrive at an understanding, the lives of all the emirs would be perfectly safe, and they should be allowed to return unmolested; as an equivalent i demanded that the emirs should come to the meeting quite alone. early the next morning my faithful intermediary arrived, and told me the chiefs had come; i therefore at once went out, accompanied only by my two servants. the kadi and farag effendi begged to be allowed to go with me; but i thought it would give the arabs greater confidence if i went alone. i therefore told them to wait in one of the batteries about four hundred yards from the tree. on arrival at the rendezvous, om dramo brought forward his friends abo bey, of the berti tribe, mohammed bey abu salama, of the maalia, helu wad gona, of the beni helba, and hamed wad nuer, of the habbania. all of them shook hands with me cordially, and we took our seats just as if nothing had happened between us. i now ordered my boys to hand round dates, not alone with the object of showing them hospitality, but also i wished them to know that i still indulged in these luxuries, in spite of the hard times. i then inquired for madibbo, and they replied that he had refused to come to the meeting, but perhaps if we arrived at some definite arrangement, he might join the majority. i explained that i was ready to submit to the mahdi, but i had no intention of surrendering myself and my people to the arab tribes. "tell me now," said i, well knowing how jealous they were of each other, "to which of you should i hand over my arms and my horses?" they replied that they were just as before; that is to say, each one head of his own tribe, independent of the other, but at the same time all fighting in the common cause of the mahdi. after a long palaver, it was at last agreed that i should send a letter to the mahdi, announcing my submission, by the hands of one of my own people, who should be accompanied by two of their delegates. all should proceed together to el obeid. on abo bey's suggestion, hostilities at om shanga were to cease, and it was further agreed that the delegate sent by me should be either a turk or an egyptian. i suggested a certain mohammed el gretli, who was well known to them. he had formerly been a kavass, and later a leader of twenty-five horsemen; he had a light complexion, long fair moustache, and had also been employed as tax-collector; in him the arabs concluded they had secured an influential man. pending the mahdi's reply, it was agreed there should be an armistice, during which the various tribes should retire to their districts, and all hostilities should cease, while the ground in front of the fort should be utilised as before as the market-place, in which all business transactions could be conducted without let or hindrance. by this arrangement i hoped to gain time to gather a considerable supply of corn, cattle, etc. we both solemnly swore on the kuran to each adhere faithfully to our respective pledges, and then separated, to meet again at two o'clock to read the letter to the mahdi and despatch it forthwith. when i returned, the kadi and farag effendi were greatly pleased with the agreement; and, directing gretli to be ready to start, i proceeded to write two letters, one to the mahdi, and the other to the garrison of om shanga. at the appointed time we again met under the tree; but madibbo was still absent, and on inquiry i was told that he entirely disagreed with the arrangement, and charged me with merely attempting to delude and cheat them. all the other emirs, however, declared they were perfectly ready to adhere to the conditions to which we had sworn, and that if madibbo did not care to join, he was free to stay away. my letter to the mahdi ran as follows:-- in the name of the most merciful god. from the slave of his god, abdel kader salatin [slatin] to sayed mohammed el mahdi. may god protect him and confound his enemies! amen! for a long time i have been defending the province which the government confided to my care, but god's will cannot be fought against. i therefore hereby declare that i submit to it (god's will) and to you, under the condition that you send one of your relatives, with the necessary authority to rule this country, and to whom i shall hand it over. i demand a pledge from you that all men, women, and children within the fort shall be spared. everything else i leave to your generosity. my letter to the om shanga garrison, demanded by abo bey, ran thus:-- _to the commander of the garrison at om shanga_: circumstances have compelled me to write to the mahdi regarding the surrender of darfur, under certain conditions. abo bey, who takes this letter to you, will raise the siege; and you are hereby instructed to cease from all hostilities. i forbid you, in my capacity as commandant of the troops, to hand over to the enemy any war material, except in my presence. (signed) _governor-general of darfur and commandant of the troops_, slatin. abo bey objected to this last sentence; but when i explained to him that the main point was that i submitted to the mahdi only, he was satisfied. before gretli left, i told him to point out to the mahdi that the surrender of darfur before the impending battle was fought would probably bring upon him a number of difficulties from which, at such a time, he would prefer to be free, and i also warned him to tell zogal. as a last request, abo bey and mohammed abu salama asked me to liberate zogal's relations from prison; but this i told them the mahdi's deputy alone could do. our palaver having ended to the complete satisfaction of all parties, the meeting broke up, and we separated. gretli now proceeded to the emir's camp; at sunset we heard the beating of the war-drums announcing his departure, and soon afterwards the besiegers quitted the neighbourhood of dara. i sent spies to see if madibbo was still staying behind; but they returned, and reported that he had gone with the rest. it appeared that he had only decided to go at the last moment. communication with fasher was still interrupted; but sometime afterwards i received a letter from said bey guma to the effect that although the tribes were in revolt, they had not attacked the town, but had prevented all communications with the outside world. the days which now passed were for me full of anxious expectancy. i knew that by this time hicks's force must have almost reached el obeid, and that the decisive battle, on the result of which hung all our hopes and fears, was about to be fought. i used to frequent the market and chat with the people on all the topics of the day. every one was aware that a large army was advancing on el obeid, but none yet knew how it was progressing. at length, towards the end of november, to my unutterable grief, rumours began to circulate that the army had been defeated, and although they sounded suspiciously near the truth, still we could not absolutely credit them; but a day or two later, definite news was received that the expedition had been annihilated. gloom settled down on us all. after so many hardships and such constant trouble to at length fall into the hands of the enemy, without the smallest chance of escape! yet could it be possible the news was grossly exaggerated? a flicker of hope still remained, only to disappear finally when information was received that zogal had arrived at om shanga, and that the garrison had surrendered to him as mudir umum el gharb (governor-general of the west), appointed by the mahdi. on the th of december, , mohammed el gretli arrived at the gate of the fort dressed in a jibba, and was brought in to me. he related to me in full detail the heart-rending news of the complete overthrow of the expedition, of which he himself had been a witness; he also brought me a letter from zogal, calling on me to surrender; and to prove the disaster which had overtaken the egyptians, he sent me several of the principal officers' commissions, a number of reports on the situation, and the journals of colonel farquhar and mr. o'donovan. at the same time gretli informed me that om shanga had surrendered, and that zogal was staying in bringel; with him were abderrahman wad ahmed sharfi and said abd es samad, both relatives of the mahdi, besides the emirs, omar wad elias pasha, gabr wad et tayeb, hassan wad en nejumi, and several others, accompanied by their rayas (flags). to keep this news secret was quite out of the question; i therefore summoned the kadi and the leading merchants, and directed gretli to repeat to them what he had just told me. this over, i sent for the officers in whom i trusted, and told them to talk over the matter between themselves, and come to a decision without my interference, as i should reserve to myself the right of accepting or rejecting their proposals as i thought best. that evening farag effendi and ali effendi tobgi, the commandant of the artillery, told me that the officers had decided to surrender to the mahdi but not to zogal bey. they stated their reasons for coming to this decision very simply: every one, from the highest to the lowest, was now absolutely convinced that we had not the smallest chance of relief; the total force of regulars in dara amounted to five hundred and ten men, of whom a large number were quite useless; the spirit of the troops was such as to render all idea of eventual success quite out of the question; the ammunition was scarcely sufficient to last out one fight if we were attacked or if we took the offensive. both the officers pointed out that i should never succeed in getting the men to fight any longer; they had made up their minds to surrender, and they urged that there was now no other course open. i told them i would carefully consider the matter, and would give them an answer the following morning. that night i did not close my eyes. to think that after all the dangers and difficulties through which we had passed, there was no other course now open but to submit! and after that what was to be our fate? i reviewed the situation from beginning to end during those sleepless hours. for four years i had struggled alone to uphold the government's authority in the province which had been intrusted to my care,--first against the local revolts, which i had suppressed; and latterly against the great fanatical movement which had attacked the very roots of my administration, and whose canker-worm had spread into the branches, till at length the leaves withering one by one, the tree was all but dead. in short, this strange fanaticism had thoroughly taken possession of my officers and men; they had openly held out against it as long as it was possible for me to dangle before their eyes the prospect of an immediate reassertion of government authority, through the anticipated success of the egyptian expedition under hicks, and the consequent advantages which would accrue to one and all of those who had loyally served the government. by every means in my power i had striven to prove to my officers and men that the government must eventually succeed; but at length the crash had come, and all prospect of relief was absolutely and entirely gone. i had struggled against intrigues from within and without, with what success the reader can judge. with the small amount of ammunition that remained, i might have made a vain struggle for a few hours; but would my officers and men have obeyed my orders? they had no wish and no heart to fight; they knew as well as i did the futility of it; and why should i call on them to sacrifice themselves, and perhaps their wives and children, to a cause to which they were no longer attached? looking at the matter entirely from a general point of view, i had no doubt in my own mind that capitulation was not only the right course, but was practically inevitable. having arrived at this conclusion, i had now to turn to the personal aspect; and the solution of this problem was to me beset with the greatest difficulties. as an officer, the idea of surrender to such an enemy was repulsive in the extreme. i had no fear of my own life; i had risked it sufficiently during the past four years to effectually dispose of any notion that my surrender was occasioned by any want of personal courage,--on that point i felt sure that, if spared, i could without the smallest difficulty vindicate my action to my military superiors; but the very word "surrender" was repellant to me, and doubly so when i thought over the consequences which must follow to me--a european and a christian--alone amongst thousands and thousands of fanatical sudanese and others, the meanest among whom would consider himself superior to me. it is true i had nominally adopted the religion of the country; but this i had done merely as a means of stifling the injurious opinions which i knew existed in the minds of officers and men, that the cause of my defeat lay in my being a christian. my ruse had succeeded to a greater extent than i had expected, but the proceeding had been a distasteful one to me. i had no pretensions to holding very strict religious views on the expediency or otherwise of the step i had taken; nevertheless, at heart i was, i believe, as good a christian as the majority of young men of my acquaintance, and that being so, a continuance of the life of religious deception i was then living was by no means a prospect which i appreciated. moreover, i was well aware that my surrender would place me absolutely and entirely in the hands of this mock-religious reformer, and that not only should i have to show myself to be a moslem in the ordinary sense of the term, but to carry out the rôle surrender would entail on me, i must be prepared to pursue this religious deception to its fullest extent,--i must become a devotee, and henceforth i must show myself heart and soul a mahdist! can any one imagine that this was a pleasing prospect? nevertheless, i confess that the religious considerations involved in the step i contemplated--although they weighed with me to no small extent--did not occupy my mind so fully as the considerations in regard to my duty. generally speaking, i felt it to be my duty to surrender, and make no further sacrifice of life in a cause which could not now, by any possibility, succeed. there was no particular reason, however, why i should voluntarily submit to the indignities and practical slavery which must follow on my personal surrender; to be accessory to my own death occurred to me more than once, but my nature revolted against this thought. i was young, my life during the past four years had been one of anxious responsibility, but of stirring adventure as well, and i had no particular desire to bring it to a close, even with the dark prospect in front of me. god in his mercy had spared me almost miraculously in this constant fighting, and perhaps he would still spare me to be of use to the government i had tried to serve most loyally. these were the thoughts which were uppermost in my mind when the dark hours of anxious meditation gave place to the first streaks of the dawn of perhaps the most memorable day of my life. yes, i concluded, there is nothing for it now but submission; i must become, so to speak, the slave of those whom i have governed, i must be obedient to those who in every respect are my inferiors, and i must, above all, be patient: if by a careful practice of these i should succeed in saving my life and eventually recovering my liberty, no doubt the experience which i should gain would be valuable to the government in whose service i still was. with this determination and resolution i rose, and dressed for the last time for many a long year in the uniform, the honour of which i had done my utmost to uphold, now to be discarded for the mahdist garb, in which i was to play an entirely new part in life; but beneath it would beat a heart as truly loyal as ever to government, and filled with a determination that, come what might, if it were god's will i should be eventually restored to liberty, the strange experiences which it would now be my fate to undergo might be turned to useful account. it was now to be a case of my wits against those of my new masters,--who would win? i did not quail from the contest, though i should have had no little excuse for doing so, could i have scanned the future, and seen before me the long years of servitude, and the double life which i should be compelled to lead, in order to carry through the resolution at which i had now arrived. the next morning, the two officers arrived; i showed them zogal's letter, calling on me to surrender peacefully, and to meet him on the rd of december at hilla shieria, where he would personally hand me the mahdi's letter; he further wrote that, in accordance with his present instructions, my life and those of all the men, women, and children in the fort should be spared, and we should be afforded all protection. whilst we were talking over the matter, the orderly officer reported that abder rasul agha, with all the bazingers, as well as the chief merchant with his family, had deserted the town during the night, with the evident intention of joining the enemy. this was the last straw. it was absolutely clear to me that further resistance was impossible. i therefore sent for my clerk and dictated to him a letter to zogal, giving in my submission and that of the garrison, and agreeing to meet him at hilla shieria on the rd of december; this i handed to gretli, with instructions to take it to zogal, who was now to be called sayed mohammed ibn khaled. the following day, in the afternoon, i assembled all the officers, and told them that, as further resistance was not possible, i had concurred in their proposals; that i was leaving dara that evening in order to meet zogal the next day at hilla shieria, and that i would take the kadi with me, but would leave the officers to look after the garrison during my absence. in a few words, which seemed to stick in my throat, i thanked them for their loyalty, their readiness to sacrifice their lives in the service of the government, and their adherence to me; then, warmly shaking each of them by the hand, and taking a general leave of the civil officials, i departed. at midnight, accompanied by my kavasses, kadi wad el beshir, sultan abakr el begawi, ismail wad barnu, and muslem wad kabbashi, who remained faithful to the last, i quitted dara. during my service in darfur i had had many disagreeable experiences, but this journey was quite the hardest. not a word passed. we were all fully occupied with our miserable thoughts. at sunset we made a short halt, but the food put before us by the servants remained untouched. our appetites had gone, so we rode on. as we approached hilla shieria, i sent an orderly ahead to see if zogal had arrived, and he soon returned, stating he had been there since yesterday, and was waiting for me. in a few moments we reached the spot where he was standing, and, jumping off my horse, i advanced to salute him; he pressed me to his heart, and assured me of his entire friendliness, begged me to be seated, and then handed me the mahdi's letter. it merely stated that he had appointed sayed mohammed khaled as emir of the west, had granted me pardon, that he had commissioned his nephew to treat me with the respect to which my rank entitled me, and to act with leniency and forbearance to all those who were formerly government officials. after i had finished reading the letter, zogal informed me that it was entirely owing to his good offices on my behalf that the mahdi had pardoned me, and that he would, of course, do his utmost to help me. i thanked him for his kind sympathy. the emirs were then introduced to me: elias, tayeb, and hassan nejumi i had met before. after partaking of food, zogal discussed his intended journey to dara; whilst we were talking, one of my officers, mohammed agha suleiman, arrived, and, without taking the smallest notice of me, went up and greeted zogal most effusively; i at once recognised him as one of the three officers whom i had been told were "black zogal's" (as he was called) secret agents. mohammed khaled, as i must call him in future, now took me aside, and spoke to me about his relatives and his family. i told him that i had left them all well, and that the former were still in arrest. he at once said he quite concurred in the steps i had taken, which of course were in the interests of self-preservation, and best for us both. we then started off, and encamped the same evening near dara. several of the inhabitants and officials came out to greet the new governor, already dressed in their dervish clothes. during my absence, mohammed khaled had directed abd es samad, who was at bringel with the dervish troops, to move down towards dara and occupy the buildings to the south of the town, which had formerly belonged to the vizir ahmed shatta. joined on his march by most of the country people, he had arrived at the appointed place, had established friendly relations with the townspeople and garrison, and had distributed quantities of the new clothing in presents. that night i again passed almost without closing my eyes. it was christmas eve. i thought of home and of the beautiful church festival which was being celebrated there, whilst i, alone and defeated, was handing over my men and arms to the enemy. in those still hours--they were the saddest in my life--i passed in review all that had happened. more fortunate by far were those who had fallen on the field of honour! the next morning, zogal officially received all those who had come out to pay homage to him, and then ordered them and the troops under abd es samad to march past. this over, he dismissed his relatives who had come out to greet him, regretting the discomfort they had suffered under arrest, and he then proceeded to his house outside the fort, having, meanwhile, ordered my men to hand over their arms by companies,--a duty which was performed with very scant regard for our feelings. the fort was now garrisoned by dervish troops, and this completed his occupation of the country. the inhabitants flocked to him to give their oaths of allegiance to the mahdi, and later in the day the troops were paraded by his order, to go through the same ceremony. madibbo, who had joined abd es samad at bringel, and had come to dara with him, followed me home. we shook hands, and i begged him to be seated; he then began: "you seem to be annoyed with me, and accuse me of having broken faith with you: but now listen to me. i was discharged from my position of head sheikh by emiliani, and proceeded to the bahr el arab, where the mahdi's summons reached me. i am a good moslem, and therefore i followed him; i beheld the mahdi's divine nature, and listened to his doctrines; i was also present at the marvellous destruction of yusef shellali. i therefore believed in him, and am still a believer. you of course trusted in your strength, and did not wish to submit without fighting. we both fought, each seeking his own advantage: i fought against the government, but not against you personally. god knows, i have never forgotten that you were friendly minded to me, therefore let anger depart from your heart and be a brother to me!" "i am not at all angry at what you have done," i answered, "you are but one among many: and should i have been annoyed with you, your words have quite reconciled me." "i thank you," said madibbo. "may god strengthen you, and as he has protected you hitherto, may he continue to protect you!" "in truth," i replied, "i put my trust in him. still it is hard to have to bear all that has now happened; but i suppose it must be!" "not so," he answered; "i am only an arab, but listen to me. be obedient and patient; practise this virtue, for it is written, 'allah ma es saberin' [god is with the patient]. however, i have come to ask you something, and my request is this: if you are really a brother to me, then, in token of our friendship, i wish you to accept my favourite horse. you knew him before; he is the sakr ed dijaj [the chicken-hawk]." before i could reply, he had got up and gone outside, and in a few minutes returned, leading his horse, which was the finest and most handsome animal owned by the tribe; he then handed me the leading-rope. "i do not wish to insult you," i replied, "by refusing to accept your present, but i do not require it; i shall not want to ride much now." "who knows?" said the sheikh. "illi umru tawil bishuf ketir [he who lives long sees much]. you are still young, and may often ride yet,--if not on this horse, then on another." "you may be right, madibbo, but now do you accept from me this token of friendship," said i, pointing to his precious war-drums, which my servants took up and handed to him; these drums, it will be remembered, i had taken in the night attack on kershu. on the drums i also laid a sword which i had taken down from the wall. "to-day," said i, "these are mine, and i can offer them to you; to-morrow they may be another's." "i thank you, and accept them gladly," said the sheikh. "only a short time ago your men captured my war-drums; but, as the arabs say, 'er rigal sharrada urrada' [a man runs away and comes back again],[ ] and i may truly say i have fought many times in my life, and sometimes i have run away, then i have returned and have succeeded." madibbo now ordered his men to carry off his drums, and departed in great delight. his conversation had affected me considerably. so i was now to be "obedient and patient; for he who lives long sees much." mohammed khaled soon sent for me, and informed me that on his arrival at shieria he had despatched a letter by one of wad darho's relatives to said bey guma, summoning him to surrender, and had at the same time sent a certain abderrahman as his representative. he now called upon me to write officially to him to hand over fasher and summon every one to submit. i replied that the clerks were no longer in my service, and that the document could be made out, should he think it necessary, and i would sign it. the orders to this effect were given, i signed them, and khaled, addressing the letter to the commander of the fasher garrison, despatched it at once. the following morning the new governor began his seizure of the state moneys. the inhabitants of dara, with the exception of all troops below the rank of officer, and myself, being considered as ghanima,[ ] were ordered out of their houses; they were only permitted to take with them a few necessary cooking utensils and the clothes they wore, and were ordered to collect in front of the police-station near the market, whilst their dwellings were ransacked and the contents carried off to the beit el mal which was opened in the mudiria. as no money or jewellery was found, all those suspected of having any were brought before the emirs, who ordered them to instantly produce it; and in carrying out the search disgusting cruelties were perpetrated: they flogged mercilessly, beat them with sticks or tied them by the legs head downwards in wells until the rush of blood to the head rendered them unconscious. amongst those who exercised more cruelty than the rest was my old khartum friend hassan wad saad en nur, whom i reported, in his presence, to khaled. hassan instantly turned to me, saying, "do you still think you are governor-general of darfur and can say what you like?" i replied that he should be careful not to go too far, and reminded him that it was i who secured his release from prison, and that the horse he was then riding was mine. to this he answered impudently, "it was god who released me, and it is god, and not you, who has given me your horse to ride." khaled, who heard these remarks, angrily ordered him off, and said to me, "take no notice of him, his father, saad en nur, was the sultan's slave, and slave-blood always shows itself." as we were now alone, i complained to khaled of the ill-treatment visited on those who had shown complete submission, and i reminded him of his pledge to protect all men, women, and children. "i am not going to put any one to death," answered he, sharply, "but they have no right to the money they are concealing; it is contrary to the arrangement, and it must be taken from them by force." my experiences were beginning. i went home, and here several of the poor people who had been turned out of their houses came and begged me to give them something. i furnished them with a little corn; but since our troubles began i had received no pay, so had no money to offer them. the male and female servants of the former officials were now distributed amongst the mahdists, but all the good-looking young girls were put aside for the mahdi himself. seven days after our surrender khaled informed me that said bey guma had sent the principal officials to make their submission, and that he himself was in the neighbourhood of the town awaiting further orders; he therefore collected his forces and prepared to march out to meet him. the delegates sent by said bey guma were omar wad darho and some of his officers, hanafi el koreishi the grand kadi, and ali bey khabir. khaled received them with great satisfaction, and one of the clerks, coming forward, presented the documents relating to the transfer of the government to abderrahman; in these were included the lists of arms and ammunition in store, the number of guns, etc. khaled now took his guests into the town and entertained them with the best of everything, pledging himself to preserve, not only their lives and the lives of all the women and children in fasher, but also, when all the money and valuables were collected, he promised that half would be returned to the owners. the following day, however, it was rumoured that the fasher garrison had decided not to surrender after all, and in the evening news arrived that fiki abderrahman had been warned to leave the city, which he had done, and that all preparations were being made for defence. khaled now anxiously inquired of the messengers what had occurred to cause this sudden change in said bey's intentions; but they replied it was not the doing of said bey, but of some of the officers, who had been told by refugees from dara that their comrades had been badly treated, and they had, therefore, decided to fight to the end. khaled now gave orders that all his people should prepare to advance at once on fasher, including the entire garrison, with their arms and ammunition, with the exception of the officers, whom he ordered to remain behind and to be carefully watched. he waited, however, two days longer, in the hope that he might get different news; but as the first account was further corroborated by some of darho's men and ali khabir's servant, who came in that evening from fasher, he set out on rd january to lay siege to the town, followed by large numbers of men marching by various roads. on th january he, his emirs, and the dara troops under mohammed agha suleiman, reached wad beraj, on the outskirts of the town, where they pitched camp. the next day a letter was written which i was obliged to sign, reminding said bey guma and the officers of the agreement they had made to surrender through omar wad darho, kadi hanafi, and others. my--or rather khaled's--letter remained unanswered; for it was quite understood in fasher that, being now under khaled, i had no other course open than to obey his orders. the messenger who took the letter was told to warn all those who complained of ill-treatment to come and state to khaled what they required; and this becoming known to the fasher garrison, several who had no desire to fight left the fort, and were accepted in the mahdist camp. wad darho's men, who lived outside the fort, also came over to khaled immediately, and orders were given to begin the siege forthwith; the operations being intrusted to darho. i now asked khaled to be allowed to talk to him privately, and i told him plainly that this opposition on the part of the fasher garrison was entirely due to their fear of suffering in the same way as the dara people. this he quite admitted. i then told him i was very unwilling to fight against those who had formerly been under my rule, and, as he was well aware, the events of the last few days had considerably affected my health; i therefore begged to be allowed to return to dara. in reply to my request he said that were it not that he liked me, he would most certainly have punished me severely for the words i had just uttered; nevertheless, he would allow me to return to dara, on condition that i pledged myself to abstain from any acts of hostility; at the same time he showed me some letters which had been addressed to me, but which he had opened. one of them was a reply to my report sent from the beni helba country to cairo regarding the desert road to assiut. they had been given to some magharba arabs to bring to me, and on their entry into the country they had been arrested by the saidia arabs and kept as prisoners, and on khaled's arrival at el fasher they had been sent on to him. he allowed me to make notes of their contents. the letters were all of old dates. one was from his highness the khedive tewfik pasha, expressing his complete satisfaction with the services i had rendered, urging me to continue to fulfil with diligence the duties of my position, and telling me that he was despatching an army under hicks pasha to subdue the rebels in kordofan and restore peace. another was from h. e. nubar pasha, prime minister, who also expressed satisfaction with my services, and repeated the information about the hicks expedition. the third was from zubeir pasha, who sent me his kind regards, and asked me to make inquiries about the family of his son suleiman. as far as i knew, suleiman had left only one child, who with his mother i had handed over to the care of omar wad darho with instructions to take an early opportunity to send them to zubeir's relatives on the nile. the mother, however, preferred to marry one of darho's relations, and she was charged with bringing up the child. the feelings which i underwent on reading these letters can be better imagined than described. how we had placed all our hopes on the success of the hicks expedition, and how rudely had those hopes been dashed to the ground! however, i did my best to master my feelings, and handed the letters back to khaled, who was contentedly smiling at my agitation. "your effendina [the khedive] thought he would defeat the mahdi," said he, "but the 'expected one' has turned the tables on him; there are still harder times in store for these deluded turks and egyptians." i smothered the retort which hung on my lips, and said nothing. "be obedient and patient" was madibbo's advice; but how difficult it was to follow it! i then got up and took leave of khaled, who lost no opportunity of showing me that he was my superior, and then proceeded to dara without delay. i was really ill, and on my arrival there kept to my house for some days; but the weeping and wailing of the unfortunate people gave me no rest: they had been robbed of all their means of livelihood, and now eked out a miserable and wretched existence as best they could. meanwhile the mahdists were besieging fasher, and had taken up their position on the hill to the east of the fort, from which they were separated by the khor tendelti; they had taken possession of all the wells, both near the hill, as well as those in the valley. said bey guma was the actual commandant, though the preliminary success of the garrison was principally due to the energy of the two officers, said agha el fula and ibrahim agha et tagalawi. the former had been wounded with me at shakka, and i had sent him to his family at fasher to recover; the latter was an exceptionally brave officer, and had considerable influence with the troops. as there was no water in the fort, the continuance of the siege depended on the possession of the wells. said bey guma disposed of eight hundred and fifty rifles, which were more than were required for the size of the fort; but khaled was still better off. nevertheless, the fasher garrison succeeded, after a sharp contest, in regaining the wells, and the mahdists were forced to retire to wadi baraj; here, however, they were reinforced by a portion of the kebkebia garrison. adam amer had surrendered, and had despatched a large party of bazingers, under babakr wad el haj, with several regulars to khaled's support; and with this addition to their strength another attack was made, which resulted in the garrison losing the wells. several heroic sorties were made; but after a seven days' siege the garrison was obliged to submit, on the th of january, and khaled, the conqueror, entered the ancient capital of his new kingdom. after the arms had been handed over and the fort occupied, the seizure of property began, as at dara, and similar, if not worse, cruelties were perpetrated on the luckless inhabitants. said bey himself was, comparatively speaking, more fortunate than other commanders; the greater part of his property was confiscated, it is true, but he was not maltreated nor insulted, and for the time being he and his family were banished to kobbé, where he was given a house, and was thus saved the misery of seeing his comrades and inferiors being tormented. amongst the latter was a certain major hamada effendi, who, in spite of every effort to make him confess, persisted in declaring that he had no money. one of his female slaves, however, told his persecutors that he had a quantity of gold and silver, but she did not know where he had concealed it. consequently he was brought before khaled, who called him an unbelieving dog. hamada effendi, losing control of himself, retorted that he was a wretched dongolawi; and khaled, furious at this insult, ordered the unfortunate man to be flogged until he confessed the hiding-place of his treasure. for three days in succession he received a thousand lashes a day, but it was all in vain; had he been a block of wood or stone, he could not have stood this awful flogging more doggedly. to the repeated questions of his tormentors as to where his money was, he merely answered, "yes, i have concealed money, but it will remain buried in the ground with me." khaled now ordered the flogging to be stopped, and the poor mangled man was handed over to the mima arabs, who were told to guard him; and even they were struck with the resolution of this officer, from whom no amount of torture could wring a confession. ibrahim tegalawi, who had been called a "slave" by one of the emirs, deliberately shot dead his own wife, his brother, and then himself; said agha fula also preferred to commit suicide than undergo torture. after these occurrences, khaled gave orders to stop the flogging, and banished the egyptian officers to various places in the neighbourhood. shortly after the fall of fasher i received a summons from khaled to join him, and i arrived there early in february; he gave me said bey guma's house to live in, and told me that i might send to dara for my horses and servants, but as regards the house furniture, that must be passed into the beit el mal as an "act of renunciation." i carried out these instructions, and handed over all the property in my house in fasher to the treasurer of the beit el mal, gaber wad et taib, only retaining such things as were absolutely necessary for daily life. i had heard on my arrival here of hamada's heroism, and sought out the poor old major, whom i found in a truly terrible state. the gaping wounds from his shoulders to his knees were mortifying rapidly, and his tormentors used to pour over them daily a strong solution of salt and water well seasoned with sudan pepper, thus hoping to wring a confession from him during the awful pain which ensued. but it was useless; he absolutely refused to utter a word. in desperation i went to khaled, told him of the poor man's horrible condition, and begged him to allow me to take him to my own house and treat him there. "he is dishonest," said khaled; "he has concealed money and has publicly insulted me: for this he must die a miserable death." "for the sake of our old friendship," said i, "i beg and pray you will forgive him and hand him over to me." "well," said he at last, "i will if you will prostrate yourself before me." in the sudan this is considered a terrible humiliation. the blood rushed to my face: to save my own life i would never do such a thing; but if by this self-sacrifice i could rescue the poor wretched man from his awful sufferings, i ought surely to do so. for a moment i hesitated; then, with a fearful effort of self-control, i knelt down, and laid my hands on his bare feet. he drew them back, raised me up, and, apparently ashamed of having asked such a sacrifice of me, said, "it is only for your sake that i shall liberate hamada; but you must promise that, should you find out where his treasure is, you will let me know." i promised to do so, and he then sent a man with me to hamada. calling up my servants i had him carried on an angareb, as tenderly as i could, to my house, and washed his wounds, spreading over them fresh butter to deaden the pain. it was quite impossible he could live much longer. i gave him a little soup, and in a low voice he called down all the curses of heaven on his enemies. he lay in my house four days, and then, calling me to his bedside, he motioned to the servants to leave us; he now whispered, in words which were scarcely audible, "my hour has come. may the lord reward you for all your kindness to me! i cannot do so, but i will show you that i am grateful. i have buried my money--" "stop!" said i. "are you going to tell me where you have hidden your treasure?" "yes," he murmured; "it may be of some use to you." "no," i answered, "i will not and cannot use it; i secured your release from your tormentors on the one condition that, should i learn where your money was hidden, i should tell khaled your enemy. you have suffered greatly, and are paying with your life for your determination not to let your treasure fall into your enemy's hands; let it lie unknown in the ground, it will keep silence!" whilst i was talking, hamada held my hand; with a supreme effort he murmured, "i thank you; may you became fortunate without my money! allah karim [god is merciful!];" then, stretching out his limbs, and raising his forefinger, he slowly muttered, "la ilaha illallah, mohammed rasul allah," closed his eyes, and died. as i gazed at his poor mangled corpse my eyes filled with tears. how much was i still to suffer before it came to my turn to enter into everlasting rest? calling my servants, i bade them bring in two good men to wash the body, and wrap it in some linen i had procured; meanwhile, i went to khaled to inform him of his death. "did he not tell you where his money was buried?" said he, sharply. "no," said i, "the man was too stubborn to betray his secret." "then may god curse him!" said the emir, turning to me. "however, as he died in your house, you may bury him; he really deserves to be thrown out like a dog on the dunghill." quitting him, i went home and buried poor hamada, with the usual form of prayer, just in front of my house. khaled was a very cunning man, excessively strict with the former government officials, and unnecessarily lenient in his transactions with the local population. he filled all important positions by his own relatives, and although he strove by every means in his power to squeeze all he could out of the country, he was specially careful to avoid the risk of incurring popular discontent. he appropriated to himself the greater part of the revenues, and every now and then he sent as presents to the mahdi and his khalifas a batch of pretty girls, some good horses, or some exceptionally fine camels, so as to retain his good reputation in the household of his lord and master. he kept up great state, and surrounded himself with an enormous household. he married mariam isa basi, the sister of the sultan of darfur, although she was over fifty years old. this good lady had hundreds of male and female slaves, and kept up her state in true sudanese fashion. it did not seem to occur to khaled that any self-abnegation, as required by the mahdi creed, should be demanded of him. every evening he caused a hundred dishes, plates, and twisted mats, full of every variety of food, to be distributed amongst his followers, who, seated at their ease under the palm-trees, would sing the praises of the mahdi, coupling every now and then his name with that of their benefactor and emir, khaled. at about this time a long letter, sent from cairo to me, through the mudir of dongola, by the hands of a trusty arab, arrived. in it i was ordered to concentrate the troops at fasher, hand over the province to abd es shakur bin abderrahman shattut, a descendant of the darfur sultans, and move with all troops and war _matériel_ to dongola. the king's son in question was, however, still in dongola, unable to find means to come to darfur; and i greatly doubt if his arrival would have made the smallest difference in the situation. concentration at fasher would have been rendered impossible by the defection of the officers and men; and had i been able to collect sufficient troops ready to obey my orders, and had i been able to march out with them and the war _matériel_ unmolested, i could equally well have been able to stay in the country and maintain my position; in which case the egyptian government would have had in me a vassal of equivalent, if not greater, fidelity than the powerless abd es shakur. khaled showed me these letters, and also gave me permission to write a few lines to my family at home, which he allowed the arab who brought the letters to take back; but i do not think my letter ever reached its destination. during all this time i remained quietly at my house, awaiting the instructions of the mahdi as to my movements. about the middle of may, khaled informed me that, owing to scarcity of water, the mahdi had quitted el obeid and marched to rahad, that he wished to know me personally, and that, therefore, i should make preparations to start at once. news now reached us of the fall of bahr el ghazal, under lupton bey, and of the despatch of the emir karamalla, as mahdist governor of the province. this karamalla had formerly lived with his brother kerkesawi, who was commander of lupton's bazingers, and on the outbreak of the revolt had proceeded with his brother's permission to el obeid, where he had been well received by the mahdi. appointed emir, he was sent back, and was immediately joined by all the bazingers and most of lupton's officials, including finally his sub-governor, arbab ez zubeir, who had hitherto served the government most loyally. thus deserted by all his people, lupton had no other course open than to capitulate, which he did, without fighting, on th april . had it not been for the defection of his own men and officials, lupton, by a judicious management of the negro tribes, could have held his province against all comers for years; but deserted by all, and by them sold over to the mahdists, he could not do otherwise than surrender. khaled wished said bey guma to accompany me as well; he was still living at kobbé, and, in spite of his former intrigues against me, i agreed to the proposal; also a certain greek merchant named dimitri zigada asked to accompany me, and khaled gave him permission to do so. this man had been long resident in darfur, and had been a meat contractor for the troops at fasher and kebkebia. previous to my capitulation, he had presented to me claims for £ , for meat supplied, which i had granted, and my signature to that effect he sewed into his clothes. procuring the necessary camels, and confining ourselves to as few servants as possible, as at that time of the year water was very scarce along the road, we prepared for the journey. hearing that i could sell horses at a good price in kordofan, i took four of mine with me, hoping in this way to obtain sufficient money to cover our daily expenses. at khaled's express wish, i gave him the bay pony which gordon had presented to me. said bey had now arrived from kobbé, bringing with him only one wife; the remainder and his seven children he had, to his great regret, been obliged to leave behind him. about the middle of june, zigada and i quitted fasher, heartily glad to leave the place where we had suffered so many hardships and bitter experiences. khaled supplied us with an escort of ten men under fiki shakir, of the berti tribe, and no doubt the latter was instructed to keep a careful watch over us. in bidding him good-bye, i thanked khaled for his friendship, and begged him to be kind to the few remaining male and female servants i had left behind me. our route lay through toweisha _via_ woda and fafa; on the way we were constantly exposed to the inquisitive importunity of the country people, and had to submit to many an insulting remark regarding our present situation, which they invariably said was much better than we deserved. to save our horses, we marched slow, and on the fifth day reached toweisha, where, being our guide's native place, we stayed a few days; during this time he treated us as his guests, and did all he could to make us comfortable. on leaving, i gave his little daughters a few ivory bracelets, which are much prized in darfur, and which i had brought with me in lieu of money; i also obtained a few dollars, which i gave to our host in order to secure his friendship. he told me confidentially that khaled had particularly instructed him to note carefully all we said to each other on the journey, and, should we make disparaging remarks about the mahdi and his doings, he was at once to let khalifa abdullahi know; he asked me to tell my companions this, so that they might take heed not to allow any ill-advised expressions to drop which might be made fatal use of by those evilly-disposed to us. i thanked him heartily for this confidence, and we took special pains to say nothing of a compromising nature during the rest of the journey. passing through dar homr, we were subjected to the insulting curiosity of the messeria arabs, and, continuing our journey towards el obeid, we procured water from the baobab reservoir-trees, for which we had to pay heavily, and at length reached that city. the mahdi had left here as governor a most dissolute old relative of his named sayed mahmud; we found him sitting on the ground in hot dispute with some merchants. i told him who i was, and he had already been warned of our approach; but he took not the slightest notice of us, keeping us standing for some minutes. eventually, he gave us a discourteous greeting, and sent one of his men to take us to a house which was to serve as our lodging. an hour later, they brought us a sheep, and a sack of corn as food for the camels and horses, and directed us to attend public prayers. dimitri zigada pretended to be ill; but said bey and i went and stayed in the open court of the mosque from noon till sunset; during the whole of this time, sayed mahmud and his staff instructed the congregation on the beauties and high importance of the mahdi's doctrine, and, turning to us, urged us to serve him honestly and faithfully, or we should suffer unheard-of punishments in this world, and hell-fire in the world to come. at last, pleading fatigue after our long journey, we were allowed to withdraw; and mahmud directed us to proceed the next day to rahad, where the mahdi was now encamped. chapter x. the siege and fall of khartum. gordon returns to the sudan--the siege of khartum--i join the mahdi at rahad--interviews and first impressions of the mahdi--the oath of allegiance--description of the khalifa--the arrival of hussein pasha--criticisms on gordon's mission--the abandonment of the sudan proclaimed--incidents in various parts of the sudan--the arrival of olivier pain--his mission, illness, and death--arrival outside khartum--i write to gordon--i am arrested and thrown into chains--incidents during my imprisonment--the surrender of omdurman--the delay of the british expedition--khartum is attacked and taken--gordon's head is brought to me--account of the last days of khartum--massacres and atrocities after the fall--the retreat of the british expedition--the rigours of my imprisonment increased--my comrade in captivity, frank lupton--we are both released--i enter the khalifa's body-guard--illness and death of the mahdi--khalifa abdullahi succeeds him--the rules and ordinances of the mahdi. after the destruction of hicks pasha's expedition, the mahdi well knew that the whole sudan was at his feet; to take possession of it was merely a question of time. his first step was the despatch of his cousin khaled to darfur, where he knew no resistance was possible. through the influence of karamalla, he was able to acquire possession of the bahr el ghazal, the employés having merely transferred their allegiance from the khedive to the mahdi. already mek adam of tagalla had submitted, and had come to el obeid with his family. mahdism had seized a firm hold of the eastern sudan, and found a ready home amongst the brave arabs of those regions; egyptian troops had been annihilated at sinkat and tamanib; general baker's disaster at teb had given the tribes great confidence; and mustafa hadal was besieging kassala. in the gezira, between the blue and white niles, the mahdi's brother-in-law, wad el basir of the halawin tribe, had scored successes against the government; and such was briefly the condition of the country when gordon reached berber, on th february . the egyptian government, in accord with the british government, thought that by the despatch of gordon, who had special knowledge of the sudan, the agitation would be stopped; but neither these governments, nor gordon himself, seemed to realise how serious the situation really was. did they imagine for a moment that gordon, who had had occasion to show considerable personal bravery, who had gained a name for charity and benevolence amongst the lower classes of the darfur population, and had suppressed a number of revolts in the equatorial negro lands, was capable of checking the blazing flames of fanaticism? the jaalin between berber and khartum, and throughout the gezira, had become restive and dissatisfied; and was the personal influence of gordon going to pacify them? on the contrary, these same tribes had every reason to remember with little satisfaction the name of the governor-general who had issued the ejection edict against the gellabas of the southern districts, during the suleiman zubeir war against the arabs. in the events which followed on this drastic measure, and which i have described elsewhere, many of these people had lost fathers, brothers, and sons, and had been reduced to beggary; were they likely to forgive gordon this? on the th february, he reached khartum, and received a warm welcome from the officials and inhabitants. those who were in immediate contact with him, and anticipating for themselves much personal benefit, were convinced that the government would never leave a man like gordon in the lurch. almost his first step was to issue a proclamation appointing the mahdi sultan of kordofan, permitting the slave-trade, and proposing to enter into relations with him; in his letter he also asked for the release of the prisoners, and sent the mahdi some very fine clothes. gordon's letter would have been all very well if he had had a force at his back with which to march into kordofan; but the mahdi had been told that he had arrived at khartum with merely a small body-guard. naturally he thought it an extraordinary proceeding for gordon to give him what he had already taken by force of arms, and which it was most improbable any troops at gordon's disposal could have wrenched from him; and it was in this frame of mind that the mahdi couched his reply advising gordon to surrender and save his life. meanwhile, the immense crowds which had collected round el obeid began to exhaust the water supply; and, to reduce the pressure, the mahdi despatched abu anga, with a large force, against jebel daïr, where the nuba tribes were offering a stubborn resistance to his rule. in all these matters, khalifa abdullahi was the mahdi's principal adviser, and, consequently, he was detested by the immediate relatives of the prophet, who did all in their power to frustrate his designs, and intrigue against him. he was, however, well aware that the mahdi could not get on without him; he therefore retaliated by complaining against these intrigues, and asked the mahdi to take an occasion to openly acknowledge his services. this led to the issue of a proclamation which, to this day, is referred to whenever any exceptionally severe measure or important change is contemplated by his successor. it runs as follows:-- a proclamation from mohammed el mahdi to all his followers. in the name of god, etc., know ye, o my followers, that the representative of the righteous [abu bakr], and the emir of the mahdi army, referred to in the prophet's vision, is es sayed abdullahi ibn es sayed hamadalla. he is of me, and i am of him. behave with all reverence to him, as you do to me; submit to him as you submit to me, and believe in him as you believe in me; rely on all he says, and never question any of his proceedings. all that he does is by order of the prophet, or by my permission. he is my agent in carrying out the will of the prophet. if god and his prophet desire to do anything, we must submit to their will; and if any one shows the slightest disinclination, he is not a believer, and has no faith in god. the khalifa abdullahi is the representative of the righteous. you are well aware of the love of god and his apostle for the righteous; therefore, you can readily understand the honourable position which should be held by his representative. he is guarded by the "khudr," and is strengthened by god and his prophet. if any one of you speak or think ill of him, you will suffer destruction, and will lose this world and the world to come. know, therefore, that all his sayings and actions must never be questioned; for he has been given wisdom and a right judgment in all things. if he sentence any of you to death, or confiscate your property, it is for your good; therefore do not disobey him. the prophet says that, in next degree to the prophet, abu bakr was the greatest living man under the sun, and also the most righteous. the khalifa abdullahi is his representative; and, by order of the prophet, he is my khalifa. all those who believe in god and in me must also believe in him; and, should any one notice anything apparently wrong in him, they should attribute it to a mystery which they cannot understand, and that, therefore, it must be right. let those who are present tell those who are absent, so that all may submit to him, and attribute to him no wrong. beware of doing any harm to the friends of god; for god and his prophet curse those that behave or think badly of his friends. the khalifa abdullahi is the commander of the faithful, and is my khalifa and agent in all religious matters. therefore, i leave off as i have begun,--"believe in him; obey his orders; never doubt what he says, but give all your confidence to him, and trust him in all your affairs." and may god be with you all. amen. as the water was daily becoming more scarce, the mahdi resolved to move his entire camp to rahad, about one day's journey from el obeid; and, about the middle of april, the transfer of this immense mass of men, women, and children to the new position was completed. he had left his old relative, sayed mahmud, at el obeid with very strict orders that any persons found remaining in the town, without his permission, were to be sent to rahad by force; and he sent further reinforcements to jebel daïr, which was only a day's march distant, and where the plucky nubas were defending themselves most gallantly. the camp at rahad soon became a perfect sea of straw huts, or tokuls, stretching as far as the eye could reach; and, all day long, the mahdi occupied himself in his religious duties, preaching and praying incessantly. mohammed abu girga, he nominated emir of the gezira, and despatched him, with a considerable following, to the nile, with instructions to head the revolt in these districts, and besiege khartum. such was the state of affairs when, towards sunset, said bey guma, dimitri zigada, and i approached rahad. we stopped for the night at some huts on the outskirts; and it was not long before a considerable number of people became aware of our arrival, and we received several visits from those who were anxious to know the situation in darfur when we had left. at sunrise, having donned our new jibbas, we took leave of our hosts, and proceeded towards the camp where we were expected in two hours time; my servants, who knew something of tailoring, had made me a jibba with broad black patches sewn on with such evenness and regularity that, at a short distance, i must have looked exactly like a lady in a fancy bathing costume, whilst said bey and zigada wore party-coloured patches which gave them the appearance of harlequins. i now sent on one of my servants to apprise the much-feared khalifa of our approach; but, as he delayed returning, we rode on along the broad road leading to the market-place. as we approached, we heard the dismal sound of the ombeÿa, which was the signal that the khalifa had gone out on his horse. by chance, i came across a darfuri who, when i asked him what the ombeÿa was being sounded for, replied, "very probably khalifa abdullahi is giving orders for some one's head to be cut off, and this is a summons to the people to witness the execution." had i been superstitious, i should certainly have taken this as a bad omen,--an execution the moment i entered the camp! however, we rode on, and soon came in sight of a large open place where we saw my servant and another man hastening towards us. "stay where you are," cried he, "and come no further; the khalifa, with his escort, has gone out to meet you; he thought you were still outside the camp." we halted while the other man returned to let the khalifa know we had arrived. a few minutes later, we saw hundreds of horsemen surrounded by numbers of armed footmen approaching us, and marching to the sound of the ombeÿa. at the farther end of the open space was the khalifa himself; he had halted, and several horsemen, ranging up to his right and left, stood awaiting his instructions. he now ordered them to begin their horse exercise, which consisted of batches of four men abreast, with poised lances, galloping at full speed towards some point, then suddenly pulling up, turning round and galloping back again; this useless sort of drill continued until men and horses became utterly exhausted. sometimes i was the objective of their charge, and, as they galloped up, they shook their spears close to my face, shouting, "fi shan allah wa rasulahu" (for god and his prophet), and then galloped back again. after repeating this operation for upwards of half an hour, one of the khalifa's servants at length approached me on foot, and told me that the khalifa wished me also to gallop towards him. i did so, shook my lance in his face, shouted, "fi shan allah wa rasulahu!" and then returned to my place. he now sent word to me to ride behind him, and in a few minutes we reached his quarters. he was assisted to dismount by a special attendant, the remainder keeping at a respectful distance; and he disappeared behind the fence. in a few moments, he sent out a message to us to come in; and we were conducted to a spot fenced off from the rest of the enclosure, which is designated the rekuba; it was merely a small, square apartment with straw walls and a thatch roof. in it were several angarebs and palm-mats; we were told to seat ourselves on these, and were served with a mixture of honey and water in a pumpkin gourd, and some dates. having partaken of this, we patiently awaited the appearance of our hospitable host and master. he soon came in, and we at once rose; seizing my hand, he pressed me to his heart, saying, "god be praised, we are at last united! how do you feel after your long and tiring journey?" "yes, indeed," i replied, "god be praised for having granted me to live to see this day! when i beheld your countenance, my fatigue at once left me!" i well knew that, to win his favour, i must flatter him as much as possible; he now gave his hand to said bey and dimitri to kiss, and asked how they were. i scrutinised him very carefully; he had a light-brown complexion, a sympathetic arab face, on which the marks of small-pox were still traceable, an aquiline nose, a well-shaped mouth, slight moustache, and a fringe of hair on his cheeks, but rather thicker on his chin; he was about middle height, neither thin nor stout, was wearing a jibba covered with small square patches of different colours, and a mecca takia, or skull cap, round which was bound a cotton turban; he generally spoke with a smile, and showed a row of glistening white teeth. having greeted us, he told us to be seated; and we at once sat on the palm-mats on the ground, whilst he sat cross-legged on an angareb. once more he inquired after our health, and expressed his great delight that we had at last reached the mahdi. on a sign to one of his servants, a dish of asida, and another of meat, were laid before us, and, sitting beside us, he told us to help ourselves; he himself ate heartily, seeming to thoroughly enjoy his food, and, during the meal, he asked several questions. "why," said he, smiling, "did you not wait for me outside the camp, instead of entering without permission? you know you are not supposed to enter a friend's house without his permission." "pardon," said i, "my servant kept us waiting so long, and none of us thought you would take the trouble to come out and meet us; then, as we reached the entrance of the camp, we heard the beating of war-drums and the sound of your ombeÿa, and, when we inquired what that meant, we were told that you had ridden out to witness the execution of a criminal; we therefore intended following the sound of your ombeÿa, when your order reached us." "am i then known as a tyrant amongst the people," said he, "that the sound of my ombeÿa should always mean the death of some one?" "no, indeed, sir," said i, "you are generally known to be strict, but just." "yes, i am strict," he replied; "but this must be so, and you will understand the reasons as you prolong your stay with me." one of the khalifa's slaves now entered, and said that several people were waiting outside, and sought his permission to greet me. the khalifa at once asked if i was not too fatigued after my journey; and when i said no, he allowed them to come in. the first to enter was ahmed wad ali (the kadi el islam), who was formerly one of my government officials, but had deserted from shakka; then followed abderrahman ben naga, who had come with the hicks expedition, in the course of which he had lost an eye, and had been wounded in several places, but had been rescued by some of his slaves who were with the mahdists; ahmed wad suleiman, the treasurer of the beit el mal, sayed abdel kader, the mahdi's uncle, sayed abdel karim, and several others followed. all of them kissed the khalifa's hand with deep reverence, and, after asking his permission, greeted me. the usual complimentary speeches passed between us; and, after reciprocal congratulations that we had lived to see the glorious time of the mahdi, they withdrew; abderrahman alone gave me a wink with his one eye as he said good-bye, from which i knew he had something to say to me, so i walked forward a few steps with him, and, in a low quick tone, he muttered: "be very careful; hold your tongue, and trust no one." i took his warning to heart. the khalifa then departed, recommending us to take some rest, as he would present us to the mahdi at noon-day prayers. we now inquired about our servants, and were told that they had been taken in and given food. once alone, and convinced that there were no eavesdroppers near, we spoke of our excellent reception, and i warned the others to be most careful about what they said. dimitri zigada was now getting quite pleased with himself, and began searching about in his pockets for a piece of tobacco to chew; he produced some from under his jibba, and at once put it in his mouth. i begged him to be careful, as such practices were entirely forbidden by the mahdi; he replied by saying he intended asking the khalifa to allow him to go and live with his compatriots, of whom there were a considerable number in camp. "i am only a common merchant," said he, "and have lost all my money; the khalifa won't take any further notice of me; but you will have to keep a sharp lookout yourselves, for you are former government officials and military men, so he will watch you very carefully." about two o'clock in the afternoon a message reached us from the khalifa, to perform our ablutions, and prepare to go to the mesjed (place of worship); a few minutes later he arrived himself, and told us to follow him. he was on foot, as the mosque, which was close to the mahdi's hut, was only about three hundred yards off. on arrival, we found the place crowded with devotees, ranged in closely packed lines; and, when the khalifa entered, they made way for him with great respect. a sheepskin was spread on the ground for us, and he directed us to take our places beside him. the mahdi's quarters, consisting of several large straw huts fenced off by a thorn zariba, were situated at the southwest end of the mosque. a gigantic tree afforded shade to a number of the worshippers, but those beyond had no protection from the burning sun. a few paces from the front line, and to the right, lay a small hut which was reserved for those with whom the mahdi wished to converse in private. the khalifa now rose and entered this hut, probably to inform his master of our arrival; for, in a few moments, he returned, again seated himself beside me, and almost immediately the mahdi himself came out. the khalifa at once arose, and with him said bey, dimitri, and i, who were just behind him, whilst the others quietly remained in their places. the mahdi being the imam, or leader of prayers, his sheepskin was spread out in front; and he then stepped towards us. i had advanced slightly, and he greeted me with "salam aleikum," which we at once returned by "aleikum es salam." he then presented his hand for me to kiss, which i did several times, and said bey and dimitri followed my example. motioning us to be seated, he welcomed us, and, turning to me, said, "are you satisfied?" "indeed i am," i replied, readily; "on coming so near to you i am most happy." "god bless you and your brethren!" (meaning said bey and dimitri) said he; "when news reached us of your battles against my followers, i used to pray to god for your conversion. god and his prophet have heard my prayers, and as you have faithfully served your former master for perishable money, so now you should serve me; for he who serves me, and hears my words, serves god and his religion, and shall have happiness in this world and joy in the world to come." we of course all made professions of fidelity; and as i had been previously warned to ask him to give me the "beia," or oath of allegiance, i now besought this honour. calling us up beside him, he bade us kneel on the edge of his sheepskin, and, placing our hands in his, he told us to repeat after him as follows:-- "bism illahi er rahman er rahim, bayana allaha wa rasulahu wa bayanaka ala tauhid illahi, wala nushrek billahi shayan, wala nasrek, wala nazni, wala nati bi buhtan, wala nasak fil maruf, bayanaka ala tark ed dunya wal akhera, wala naferru min el jehad" (in the name of god the most compassionate and merciful, in the name of the unity of god, we pay god, his prophet, and you our allegiance; (we swear) that we shall not associate anything else with god, that we shall not steal, nor commit adultery, nor lead any one into deception, nor disobey you in your goodness; we swear to renounce this world and (look only) to the world to come, and that we shall not flee from the religious war). this over, we kissed his hand, and were now enrolled amongst his most devoted adherents; but at the same time we were liable to suffer their punishments. the muazzen (prayer caller) now gave the first signal to begin prayers, and we repeated the usual formulæ after the mahdi. when they were over, all those present raised their hands to heaven, and besought god to grant victory to the faithful. the mahdi now began his sermon. an immense circle was formed around him, and he spoke of the vanity and nothingness of this life, urging all to renounce the world, and to think only of their religious duties, and of the jehad; he painted, in most glowing terms, the delights of paradise, and the heavenly joys which awaited those who paid heed to his doctrine. every now and then he was interrupted by the shouts of some fanatic in an ecstasy; and, indeed, i am convinced every one present, except ourselves, really believed in him. the khalifa, having something to do, had left the mosque, but had ordered his mulazemia (body-guard), who remained, to tell us to stay with the mahdi till sunset. i had now a good opportunity of making a careful survey of mohammed ahmed; he was a tall, broad-shouldered man of light-brown colour, and powerfully built; he had a large head and sparkling black eyes; he wore a black beard, and had the usual three slits on each cheek; his nose and mouth were well shaped, and he had the habit of always smiling, showing his white teeth and exposing the v-shaped aperture between the two front ones which is always considered a sign of good luck in the sudan, and is known as "falja." this was one of the principal causes which made the mahdi so popular with the fair sex, by whom he was dubbed "abu falja" (the man with the separated teeth). he wore a short quilted jibba, beautifully washed, and perfumed with sandal-wood, musk, and attar of roses; this perfume was celebrated amongst his disciples as rihet el mahdi (the odour of the mahdi), and was supposed to equal, if not surpass, that of the dwellers in paradise. we remained exactly on the same spot, with our legs tucked away behind, until the time for evening prayers came. meanwhile the mahdi had frequently gone to and fro between his house and the mosque; and, prayers over, i begged leave to depart, as the khalifa had told me to return to him at that hour. he gave me permission, and took the opportunity of saying that i must adhere closely to the khalifa, and devote myself entirely to his service. of course i promised to obey him to the letter, and dimitri, said bey, and i, covering the mahdi's hand with kisses, quitted the mosque. my legs were so cramped by the posture in which i had been sitting for hours together that i could scarcely walk; but, in spite of the pain, i was obliged to keep as cheerful a face as possible in the mahdi's presence. said bey was more used to it, and did not seem to suffer so much; but poor dimitri limped behind, muttering greek in an undertone, which i have no doubt conveyed the most frightful imprecations,--at any rate i can vouch that they were not songs of praise of the mahdi. a mulazem returned with us to the khalifa's house, where he was waiting for us to sit down to supper with him. he told us that since he had seen us in the morning, sheikh hamed en nil of the arakin arabs, and one of the principal sheikhs of the gezira, had arrived, and that his relatives had begged him to ride out and meet him; but he refused, as he preferred spending the evening with us. we of course thanked him profusely for his good-will and kindness; and we were loud in the praises of the mahdi, which evidently much pleased the khalifa. he now left us to attend evening prayers, and, on his return, talked to us about darfur; he also mentioned that hussein khalifa, formerly mudir of berber, was expected within the next few days. so it was true berber had fallen; we had heard rumours to this effect, on the darfur frontier, but met no one whom we could ask confidentially about it. the town must have fallen through the jaalin; and now communication with egypt must be entirely cut off. this was terribly bad news. i anxiously looked out for hussein khalifa's arrival; he would be able to give us all the facts. the khalifa now left us for the night; and, utterly tired out, we stretched out our weary limbs on the angarebs, and gave ourselves up to our own thoughts. there were of course no lights; but in the dark i heard dimitri's mouth at work, and i had no doubt the man was again chewing tobacco. once more i spoke seriously to him, and warned him that he would fare badly if discovered; to which he sleepily replied, that his little stock of tobacco was now done, and that the bit in his mouth was positively his very last piece. early the next day, after morning prayers, the khalifa again came to see us, and asked how we were getting on. soon after sheikh hamed en nil's relatives arrived, and begged the khalifa to allow them to present their sheikh to him; he was admitted into his presence as a penitent, his neck in a sheba, his head sprinkled with ashes, and a sheepskin bound about his loins. on entering, he knelt down, saying, "el afu ya sidi!" (pardon, sire!). standing up, the khalifa directed one of his servants to remove the sheba, and take the ashes off his head, and then told him to put on his clothes, which were being carried for him. this done, he asked him to be seated; and the sheikh, repeatedly begging pardon, expressed his deep regret that his visit to the mahdi had been so long delayed. the khalifa pardoned him, and promised to present him to the mahdi in the afternoon, when he also would, in all probability, forgive him. "master," said hamed en nil, "since you have pardoned me, i am now happy, and at ease. i consider that your forgiveness is the same as the mahdi's; for you are of him, and he is of you," and saying these words, he kissed the khalifa's hand (he had cleverly repeated the words in the proclamation already referred to). after partaking of a breakfast of asida and milk, we separated; the blowing of the ombeÿa, and the beating of drums, announced that the khalifa was about to ride; and horses were at once saddled. directing my servants to get two horses ready,--one for myself and the other for said bey,--we mounted and soon caught up the khalifa, who had gone on ahead. he was riding for pleasure round the camp, accompanied by some twenty footmen; on his right walked an enormous black of the dinka tribe, and on his left, a very tall arab named abu tsheka, whose duty it was to help the khalifa in and out of the saddle. when he came again to the open space, he directed the horsemen to repeat yesterday's exercises; and, after watching this for some time, we rode on to the end of the camp, where he showed me the remains of an immense zariba and small tumbled-in trench, which he told me had been one of hicks's last halting places before his annihilation, and where he had awaited reinforcements from tagalla. the trench had been made for his krupp guns. the sight of this awakened very sad memories; to think of the thousands, who but a short time before had been camped in this great zariba having been killed almost to a man, and that this disaster was the cause of my being where i now was! on our way back, the khalifa took me to pay a visit to his brother yakub, whose huts were close to his own, the fences being merely separated by a narrow passage. yakub received me very kindly, and appeared as pleased to see me as abdullahi had been; he warned me to serve him faithfully, which i of course promised to do. yakub is a somewhat shorter man than the khalifa, broad-shouldered, with a round face deeply pitted with small-pox; he has a small turned-up nose, and slight moustache and beard; he is distinctly more ugly than handsome, but has the art of talking in a curiously sympathetic way. he, too, like the mahdi and the khalifa, smiled continually; and what wonder, when their affairs were progressing so very satisfactorily! yakub reads and writes, and knows the kuran by heart, whilst abdullahi is comparatively very ignorant. he is some years the khalifa's junior, and is his trusted and most powerful adviser. woe to the unfortunate man who differs in opinion with yakub, or who is suspected of intriguing against him, he is infallibly lost! partaking of some of the dates he offered me, i took leave of him and returned to the rekuba, whence, in accordance with the khalifa's order, we proceeded to the mosque, and stayed till sunset, as we did the previous day. again the mahdi preached renunciation, urging his hearers to be ready for the jehad, so as to enter into the future joys of paradise. again and again, the faithful devotees, half intoxicated with fanaticism, shouted his praises; whilst we poor wretches, enduring agonies in our cramped position, imprecated in our hearts mahdi, khalifa, and his whole crew of base hypocrites. the next day, the khalifa summoned us, and asked if we wished to return to darfur. i knew the question had only been put to us as a test; and we at once answered with one voice, that we should deeply regret leaving the mahdi. i saw that he anticipated this answer, and, smiling, he commended us for our wise decision. the khalifa now, of his own accord, suggested that a longer stay in the rekuba was probably distasteful to us; he, therefore, sent dimitri with a mulazem to the house of his future emir, who was a greek, and he also gave instructions to ahmed wad suleiman to issue twenty dollars to him. after he had gone, he turned to said bey, saying, "said guma, you are an egyptian, and every one likes his own compatriots best; we have with us several egyptians, many of proved fidelity. you are brave and i know i can count on you; you will therefore join the emir of all the egyptians, hassan hussein, and he will give you a house, and see to your requirements. i shall also do what is necessary on my side." said bey was of course much pleased with the arrangement. then, turning to me, he said, "abdel kader, you are a stranger here, and have no one else but me. you know well the arabs of southern darfur; therefore, in accordance with the mahdi's orders, you are to remain with me as a mulazem." "that is the very wish of my heart," i answered readily; "i call myself fortunate to be able to serve you, and you can rely on my obedience and fidelity." "i knew that," said he; "may god protect you and strengthen your faith; you will no doubt be of much use to both the mahdi and myself." soon afterwards, the emir hassan hussein came in; the khalifa had summoned him, and now recommended to his care said guma, who promised he would do all he could for him. he also instructed him to send for said bey's family, which had been left behind at kobbé; and the latter, taking a grateful leave of the khalifa, proceeded, in company of a mulazem, to ahmed wad suleiman, who had been authorised to supply him with forty dollars and a female slave. once more i was alone with the khalifa, and again he repeated how gratified he was to have me in his service, and always beside him; at the same time he warned me not to associate with his near relatives, whose jealous feelings might lead to an estrangement between us. he also gave orders for some straw huts to be erected in the zariba next his own, belonging to abu anga, who was now absent, fighting against the nubas; meanwhile he said i was to stay in the rekuba, and without fail attend the mahdi's noon-day and evening prayers. thanking him profusely for all these favours, i promised to do my utmost to please him and continue in his good graces. at supper the same evening, the khalifa told me with delight that hussein khalifa had arrived, and was to be presented the next day. consequently, at noon, the khalifa received him with his relatives, in ashes and sheba, just as he had received sheikh hamed en nil. knowing what his feelings were as regards the mahdists, i realised it must have been a terrible humiliation for him to come in this way; but some of his old friends who were now in high favour with the mahdi, advised him to do so, and he had consented. the khalifa had the sheba and ashes removed, pardoned him, and then presented me to him, and asked me to be seated. being a mulazem of the khalifa, i was practically in the position of a sort of servant, and as such i always stood up behind him, and of course did my best to carry out my new rôle satisfactorily. abdullahi began the conversation by inquiring after the health of the late governor of berber; and, receiving the usual replies, he then turned to the situation on the river, and hussein described the whole country between berber and fashoda as being entirely with the mahdi, and communication between egypt and the sudan quite interrupted, whilst khartum, which was defended by gordon, was invested by the gezira tribes. he naturally coloured the situation in the way which he knew would be most acceptable to the mahdi; and that he was favourably impressing the khalifa, was evident from the expressions of satisfaction which escaped the latter as the narrative proceeded. abdullahi promised that at noon-day prayers he would present hussein khalifa to the mahdi, of whose forgiveness he might rest assured; in the meantime he was to rest in the rekuba. the khalifa, having something to do, now left us together; but as there were several of his relatives there whom i did not know, we could only talk about our personal concerns, and congratulate each other on our good fortune in becoming followers of the mahdi. at noon, the khalifa returned, and took dinner with hussein khalifa, i also being invited to partake of the meal. in the course of conversation, the khalifa asked, "did you happen to see mohammed sherif, the former sheikh of the mahdi; you must have passed his house on your way here? is he still possessed of that evil spirit which urges him to fight against the will of god, and to refuse to acknowledge the mahdi as his lord and master?" "i spent a night at his house," replied hussein khalifa; "he has now repented of his infidelity to god, and it is illness alone that prevents him from coming here. most of his former followers have joined those besieging khartum." "it is better for him to serve the mahdi," said abdullahi; "now get ready, and i shall present you to him." before prayers began, the khalifa conducted him, as he had conducted me a few days before, to the mosque, and bade him be seated; but i, being a mulazem, now took up my position in the second line. on the mahdi approaching, the khalifa and his guest stood up; and the latter, on being presented, craved his pardon for the blindness of heart which had hitherto prevented him from becoming one of his faithful adherents. he was pardoned, and, on taking the oath of allegiance, was enjoined to uphold faithfully the new doctrine, and attend prayers without fail. the mahdi, seeing me in the second line, directed me to come forward and take up my position beside the khalifa. "drink of the river of my words," said he, "and that will be of inestimable benefit to you." i excused myself by saying that as mulazem of the khalifa i did not think it my place to stand beside my master, and had therefore joined the second line. i was now praised for this act of self-abnegation; the mahdi added, however, that in future this should always be my position, "for in the place of worship we are all alike." after prayers, the khalifa disappeared as usual, whilst hussein khalifa and i remained in the mosque till sunset. my uncomfortable posture brought more curses than prayers to my lips; but i had to put as good a face as i could on the matter. that evening, we supped with the khalifa, and talked on general subjects, being continually warned to be honest and sincere. to my great delight, hussein khalifa was directed to spend that night in the rekuba; but his relatives were allowed to go home. the khalifa had left us, and the servants had retired, so we were quite alone, and took this long-looked-for occasion to greet each other most heartily, and to mutually bemoan the sad fate which brought us together to this wretched position. "hussein pasha," said i, "i trust you and yours may rest assured of my silence. tell me what is the present condition of khartum, and what are the population doing?" "alas!" he replied, "it is exactly as i have already described it to the khalifa. gordon's reading at metemmeh of the proclamation abandoning the sudan, upset the situation entirely, and was indirectly the cause of the fall of berber. no doubt, it would have been lost later on; but this action of gordon's greatly precipitated it. at berber, i stopped him from taking this fatal step; and i cannot think what induced him to disregard my advice almost immediately afterwards." we talked so long about the situation and the various events that hussein pasha, who was old and tired, fell asleep; but this conversation had banished all sleep from my eyes. so this is to be the end, i thought, of all gordon's efforts to settle the country; and is all the blood and treasure expended in past years to go for nothing? now the government wanted to abandon this great country which, though hitherto it had not proved a financial benefit to egypt, was a land of great prospects, and could at least produce thousands of splendid black recruits with whom to fill the ranks of its army. so the government was to leave this country to its own people, and yet to remain on friendly terms with it; it was to withdraw the garrisons and war _matériel_, and to establish a form of local government, when a form of such government had already sprung into existence by the most violent of means,--namely, by the wholesale overturning of every vestige of the authority which it was to replace, and the massacre or capture of almost every individual representative of the ousted ruling power. to carry out this plan, they had sent gordon in the hope that his personal influence with the people, and their regard for him,--which he was inclined to estimate somewhat highly,--would enable him to succeed in this herculean task. gordon, it is true, was popular with some of the western and equatorial tribes, whom he had won over by his munificence and his benevolent nature. during his stay in these districts, he had constantly travelled about; and his noted courage and fearlessness in action had won him the sympathy of those tribes whose greatest pride it is to possess such qualities. yes, there is no doubt he had been popular with the western arabs: but they had now a mahdi whom they adored; they had almost forgotten gordon. the sudanese, it must be remembered, are not europeans; they are arabs and blacks, and are little given over to sentimental feelings. but, in this particular case of the reading of the proclamation, the people concerned were river tribes; and, of all others, the jaalin were perhaps the most hostile to gordon, for they had not forgotten the eviction of the gellabas. the mere fact that gordon had come to khartum without a force at his back, proved to these people that he depended on his personal influence to carry out his task; but, to those who understood the situation, it was abundantly clear that personal influence at this stage was as a drop in the ocean. then what could have induced him to read that fatal notice, proclaiming far and wide that the government intended to abandon the sudan? at hussein pasha's advice, he had not read it at berber; but at metemmeh, he had proclaimed it before all the people. had gordon never been informed of the mahdi's proclamations, sent to all the tribes after the fall of el obeid? was he not aware that these proclamations enjoined all the people to unite in a religious war against the government authority, and that those who disobeyed the summons, and were found giving assistance to the hated turk, were guilty of betraying the faith, and as such would not only lose their money and property, but their wives and children would become the slaves of the mahdi and his followers? gordon's idea was to obtain the assistance of these tribes, in order to facilitate the withdrawal of the garrisons; and he would have come to terms with them to effect this object: but how could he expect them to help him, when, in the words of that fatal proclamation, it was decreed they were to be abandoned to their fate, and what would, in this eventuality, have been their fate? could they have opposed the mahdi, his forty thousand rifles, and his hosts of wild fanatics panting for blood and plunder? no, indeed, these tribes were sensible enough to understand that assistance given to gordon to retreat, meant the annihilation of themselves and the enslavement of their families; why should they commit this self-sacrifice? how could gordon's personal influence avail him for an instant against the personal interests of every man, woman, and child in the now abandoned sudan? if, for political or other reasons, it was impossible for the government to maintain the sudan, or to re-conquer it by degrees, it was an equally useless step to have sent gordon there to sacrifice him. it did not require a person of any special military capacity to remove the garrisons and war _matériel_ by the steamers to berber, under pretext of relieving that town, and thus the whole or a considerable portion of the sudan garrisons might have been successfully withdrawn, though it would have been necessary to do this without delay, and it could not have been feasible after the fall of berber; but berber, it must be remembered, did not fall till the th of may,--three months after gordon's arrival in khartum. however, under any circumstances, the reading of that fatal proclamation precipitated matters to an alarming extent; the intention of the government was openly declared to the sudanese, and they naturally, from that moment, looked to their own immediate interests, which were now directly opposed to those of the government so hopelessly overturned by their victorious compatriot the mahdi. how could gordon's qualities of personal bravery and energy, great as they undoubtedly were, arrest the progress of events after that most grave political error? perplexed and worried with such thoughts as these, i was tossing about on my angareb, whilst hussein khalifa was snoring. there was no small advantage in being a fatalist; but as yet i was too european to have arrived at this stage, though gradually i learnt to look at such matters with more equanimity, and my experiences in the sudan have undoubtedly taught me to practise that great virtue--patience. the next morning, the khalifa honoured us with a visit, and asked me why my eyes were so red; i answered that, owing to a severe attack of fever, i had passed a sleepless night, on which he advised me to take care of myself and not to go into the sun; and he also excused me from attending the mahdi's prayers. however, when prayer-time came, i performed them under the shade of the rekuba, and in the sight of the servants; as it was my object to appear to them as devout as possible, well-knowing they would report my every action to their master. the following day my huts were ready, and, with the khalifa's permission, i entered into occupation. hussein khalifa had already been allowed to live with one of his relatives; and he made a point of going through all five prayers daily, in order to secure the good-will of the mahdi and khalifa, hoping in this way to obtain their leave to go back to his own country. i decided to remain as near the khalifa as possible, and to only go occasionally to the mahdi when he recommended me to do so. a few days afterwards, a rumour was spread through the camp that abu girga had been attacked by gordon, and had been wounded; his forces, which were then investing khartum, were reported to have been repulsed, and the siege raised. this news filled my heart with delight, though openly, i was obliged to appear quite unconcerned. saleh wad el mek now arrived in the camp; he had been obliged to submit at fedasi, and had been sent on by abu girga. he received the pardon of the khalifa and mahdi, and confirmed the above news; he also privately gave me much interesting information about gordon. that evening, the khalifa summoned me to supper with him; and no sooner had we set to work to tear the huge piece of meat before us, than he asked, "have you heard the news to-day about hajji mohammed abu girga?" "no," i replied, hypocritically, "i did not leave your door the whole day, and have met no one." "gordon," continued the khalifa, "made a sudden attack on hajji mohammed from both the river and the land, when the blue nile was in flood; and he has built structures on the steamers which stop the bullets of our faithful ansar. the unbeliever is a cunning man; but he will reap god's punishment. hajji mohammed's men, who have suffered, have been obliged to retire before superior force. gordon is now rejoicing in his victory; but he is deceived. god will grant victory only to those who believe in him; and, in a few days, god's vengeance will fall upon him suddenly. hajji mohammed is not man enough to conquer the country; the mahdi is therefore sending abderrahman wad en nejumi to besiege khartum." "i hope," said i, "that hajji mohammed has not suffered serious loss?" meaning in my heart exactly the reverse. "battles cannot be fought without loss," said the khalifa, with some truth; "but i have not heard the full details yet." he was anything but affable to-day. gordon's victory had thoroughly upset him; and he evidently anticipated that the effect would be serious. when i returned to my hut, i sent my servant to ask saleh wad el mek if he could come and see me secretly; he was only a few huts off, and arrived some minutes afterwards. i told him the khalifa's corroboration of the news; but he had already heard it from his relatives; and we continued talking over past and present till a late hour. this victory had raised my spirits enormously, and i found myself chatting quite hopefully of the future; but saleh looked on the success as only temporary, and his reasons for this view were, i felt, fully justifiable. he explained that, very soon after gordon's arrival at khartum, the effect of the fatal proclamation began to be felt, and his difficulties increased. the jaalin had begun to collect, and had chosen as their chief, haj ali wad saad, who soon had at his disposal a considerable force; but, for personal reasons, he was secretly inclined to the government, and therefore delayed actually fighting as long as possible. the consuls of the various nationalities at khartum, seeing the situation getting worse, had applied to gordon to send them to berber; but it was doubtful if it would have been safe to let them go, and, at gordon's suggestion, they decided to remain. the inhabitants of khartum had themselves begun to look with mistrust on gordon; for they realised, from the proclamation of which they had heard, that gordon had only come to withdraw the garrison, though, later on, they thoroughly understood that gordon himself had come to conquer with them or to die. the sheikh el obeid, one of the great religious sheikhs of the sudan, had collected together his followers at halfaya to besiege khartum. gordon had sent troops under hassan pasha and said pasha hussein, who had been formerly governor of shakka, to drive the rebels out of their position; and, watching the operations through a telescope from the top of the palace, he had seen his trusted officers endeavouring to make over his troops to the enemy, whilst they themselves were retreating to khartum. he had tried these traitorous officers by general court-martial, and had had them shot. in spite of this disaster, he had succeeded in relieving the shaigias, who were loyal to government, and had brought them, under their commander sanjak abdel hamid wad mohammed, to khartum. saleh wad el mek, himself invested by the rebels at fedasi, had begged gordon to relieve him; but it was impossible to do so, and he had been obliged to surrender with one thousand four hundred irregulars and cavalry, with all their arms. in consequence of this success, hajji mohammed abu girga had collected all the inhabitants of the gezira to besiege khartum. whilst these events were happening in the neighbourhood of that town, the mahdi's former teacher, sheikh mohammed el kheir (formerly mohammed ed diker), had come to the river, and had been appointed by his early pupil emir of berber; he had placed all the tribes in the province under his orders, and the latter, collecting adherents from his own tribe, the jaalin, and reinforced by the barabra, bisharia, and other arabs, had laid siege to berber, which had fallen in a few days. the province of dongola had hitherto held out, owing principally to its crafty mudir, mustafa bey yawer, who had twice written to the mahdi, offering him his submission; but the latter, fearing to trust one of the hated turks, had sent his relative, sayed mahmud ali, to join the shaigia emir sheikh el heddai, who had already headed a disturbance in the province, to take possession. but mustafa bey, secretly learning that he was not acceptable, had fallen suddenly on heddai at debba, and, encouraged by the presence of a british officer[ ] in his province, had followed up this success by inflicting a crushing defeat on the mahdists at korti, in which both the emirs mahmud and heddai were killed. at sennar, matters were not so satisfactory; it was closely invested, but had large reserve supplies of corn. communication with the outside was, however, completely stopped, though nur bey, the brave commander, had made a successful sortie which had driven off the rebels to some distance, and enabled the town to breathe again. appeals now reached the mahdi, from all parts, to come down to the river; but he was in no particular hurry, for he knew that the country was securely in his hands, and that it would require a large egyptian or foreign army to re-conquer it from him. every friday, he held a review of his troops, at which he himself was always present. his force was divided into three portions, each under the command of a khalifa, though, in addition, khalifa abdullahi was entitled "reis el gesh" (commander-in-chief of the army). his own special division was known as the raya ez zarga, or blue flag, and his brother yakub represented him as its commander. the raya el khadra, or green flag, was under the command of the khalifa ali wad helu; while the red flag, the raya el ashraf (flag of the nobles), was placed under khalifa mohammed sherif. under each principal flag were grouped the flags of the various emirs. when the reviews took place, the emirs of the raya ez zarga deployed into line with their banners facing east; those of the green flag were drawn up opposite to them, facing west; and, connecting these two lines, and facing north, were the emirs and flags of the ashraf. the numbers of the mahdi's followers being now enormous, an immense square was thus formed, open on one side; and the mahdi and his staff, advancing to the centre, would receive the salute, and would then ride along the lines, welcoming his faithful adherents with the words, "allah yebarek fikum!" (may god bless you!) during these friday reviews, called arda or tarr, extraordinary occurrences were said to take place. one would assert that he saw the prophet riding beside the mahdi, and talking with him; others would say they heard voices from heaven, shouting blessings on the ansar, and promises of victory. they would even affirm that a passing cloud was formed by angels' wings in order to give shade and refreshment to the faithful. about three days after the news had been received of abu girga's defeat, an italian named joseph cuzzi arrived at rahad from khartum; he had been residing in berber at the time of its fall, having been left behind by a. marquet, the agent of debourg and company, to wind up some of their affairs. mohammed el kheir had sent him, as a prisoner, to abu girga, and he had despatched him with a letter to gordon; but the latter had refused to see him, and had sent him back to the enemy's post, on the east bank of the blue nile, opposite khartum. the mahdi now sent cuzzi back in company with a greek named george calamatino, with letters to gordon summoning him to submit. by the hands of this greek, i also sent secretly a few lines to gordon pasha. the greek was permitted to enter the lines; but cuzzi was kept at a place some distance off, as, on the first occasion on which he had come, he was reported by the officers to have personally summoned them to surrender. when the fast of ramadan was over, abu anga and his entire fighting force were recalled from jebel daïr; and the mahdi then publicly announced that the prophet had directed him to proceed to khartum and lay siege to it. every emir was enjoined to collect his men, and order them to prepare for the march; whilst any who remained behind were declared lawful prey, and liable to total confiscation of all they possessed. however, there was no hanging back on the part of the people, whose fanaticism knew no bounds, and who were well aware that treasure and plunder generally fell to the share of the faithful followers. the consequence was that the mahdi's summons brought about a wholesale immigration of the entire population, such as had never before been seen in the sudan. we left rahad on nd august, the mahdist forces marching by three separate roads: the northern one, _via_ khursi, helba, and tura el hadra, was selected by the camel-owning tribes; the central road, _via_ tayara, sherkéla, shatt, and duem, was taken by the mahdi, khalifas, and the majority of the emirs; whilst the baggaras and cattle-owning tribes adopted the southern route, which was well supplied with water, owing to the frequent rain pools which served as drinking places for the cattle. i, of course, in my capacity as mulazem of the khalifa, followed my master; but, as a rule, when halted in camp, i used to send my horses and servants to saleh wad el mek, who had joined the mahdi's suite. the khalifa, however, for some unknown reason, had a particular aversion to him, and ordered me in future to remain with my servants near him, and charged his cousin, osman wad adam, to look after me. nevertheless, every now and then, i used to see saleh wad el mek, who was kept informed of all that was happening in the nile districts. just before arriving at sherkéla, strange rumours were spread about that an egyptian who was a christian had arrived at el obeid, and was now on his way to overtake the mahdi. some believed him to be the emperor of france; others affirmed that he was closely related to the queen of england. however, there was no doubt a european was coming, and i was naturally most anxious to know who he could be. that evening, the khalifa told me a frenchman had arrived at el obeid, and that he had sent orders for him to be brought to the mahdi. "do you belong to the french race?" said he to me, "or are there different tribes in your country, as there are here with us in the sudan?"--he had not, of course, the slightest knowledge of europe and the european nations, and i enlightened him as far as i thought necessary. "but what should a frenchman want with us, that he should come all that long distance?" asked the khalifa, inquiringly; "possibly god has converted him, and has led him to the right way." "perhaps," said i, "he is seeking your and the mahdi's friendship." the khalifa looked at me incredulously, and said curtly, "we shall see." at length, we reached sherkéla; and, scarcely had we halted, when my master sent for me, and said, "abdel kader, the french traveller has arrived; i have now ordered him to be brought before me. you had better wait and listen to what he has to say; i may want you--" almost immediately afterwards, hussein pasha came in, and he too had evidently been summoned by the khalifa. after waiting some little time longer, a mulazem announced that the stranger was waiting outside the hut; and he was at once admitted. he was a tall, young-looking man, about thirty years of age, i should say, and his face was much bronzed by the sun; he had a fair beard and moustache, and wore a jibba and turban. he greeted the khalifa with "salam aleikum;" and the latter, who did not rise from his angareb, merely motioned him to be seated. "why have you come here; and what do you want from us?" were the khalifa's first words to him; he replied, in such broken arabic that it was difficult to understand, that he was a frenchman, and had come from france. "speak in your own language with abdel kader," interrupted the khalifa, "and he will explain to me what you want." the stranger now turned and looked at me distrustfully, saying, in english, "good day, sir." "do you speak french?" said i, "my name is slatin. stick to business entirely now, and, later on, we can speak privately." "what are you talking about together," muttered the khalifa, in an annoyed tone, "i wish to know what he wants." "i only told him my name," said i, "and urged him to speak openly to you, as both you and the mahdi are men to whom god has granted the power to read the thoughts of others." hussein khalifa, who was sitting beside me, now broke in, "that is true, indeed! may god prolong the khalifa's life;" and then, turning to me, he said, "you did well to call this stranger's attention to the fact." the khalifa, appeased and flattered, now said, "well, try and find out the truth." "my name is olivier pain," said the stranger, whom i had now told to talk in french, "and i am a frenchman. since i was quite a boy i was interested in the sudan, and sympathised with its people; it is not only i, but all my compatriots, who feel the same. in europe there are nations with whom we are at feud; one of these is the english nation which has now settled in egypt, and one of whose generals, gordon, is now commanding in khartum. i have therefore come to offer you my assistance, and that of my nation." "what assistance?" interrupted the khalifa, to whom i was translating word for word olivier pain's statement. "i can only offer you advice," said pain; "but my nation, which is anxious to gain your friendship, is ready to help you practically with arms and money, under certain conditions." "are you a mohammedan?" asked the khalifa, as if he had not heard what he had said. "yes, certainly," said he; "i have been of this faith for a long time, and at el obeid i openly acknowledged it." "well," said the khalifa, "you and hussein can stay here with the frenchman, whilst i will go and let the mahdi know, and i shall then come back to you." when the khalifa had gone, i shook hands with olivier pain, and introduced him to hussein khalifa; but i confess to feeling considerably prejudiced against him by his offer to assist our enemies. however, i urged him to be most careful, and to say that he had been induced to come here rather out of love for religion than for political motives. even hussein pasha, who was evidently very much annoyed, said in arabic to me, "is that what you call politics,--to offer money and arms to people whose only object is to kill others, rob them of their property, and enslave their wives and daughters? yet if one of us, no matter how poor he may be, buys a black slave who is really little better than an animal, except that he can till the ground, you call it wicked and cruel, and punish us most severely." "malaish!" (never mind!) said i, "he who lives long sees much." we were now occupied with our own thoughts, whilst waiting for the khalifa's return; and at length he arrived, ordered us to make our ablutions and prepare to attend the mahdi's prayers. having done so, the khalifa leading, we went to the place of worship, where there was an immense concourse of people who, having heard of olivier pain's arrival, were indulging in the wildest speculations about him. after we had taken our places, pain was directed to the second row, and the mahdi now arrived. he was dressed in his speckless and beautifully perfumed jibba; his turban was more carefully folded than usual, and his eyes were well painted with antimony, which gave them a more fiery expression. he had evidently done his utmost to appear to the greatest possible advantage. no doubt he was pleased and flattered that a man should have come from so far to offer him assistance. he now sat himself down on his prayer-carpet, and, calling up olivier pain before him, greeted him with a very beaming smile, but did not shake hands with him, and, using me as an interpreter, asked him to explain why he had come here. pain reiterated the same story as before, which the mahdi told me to repeat in a sufficiently loud voice for every one to hear; and, when i had finished, he said, in an equally loud tone, "i have heard your intentions, and have understood them; but i do not count on human support, i rely on god and his prophet. your nation are unbelievers, and i shall never ally myself with them. with god's help, i shall defeat my enemies through my brave ansar, and the hosts of angels sent to me by the prophet." shouts of acclamation from thousands upon thousands of throats greeted this speech; and, when order had been restored, the mahdi said to pain, "you affirm that you love our faith, and acknowledge that it is the true one; are you a mohammedan?" "certainly," answered he, repeating the creed, "la ilaha illallah, mohammed rasul allah," in a loud voice. the mahdi after this gave him his hand to kiss, but did not administer the oath of allegiance. we now took up our positions in the ranks of the faithful, and repeated prayers with the mahdi; and, that over, the divine master gave us one of his usual sermons on salvation and renunciation. we then departed with the khalifa, who directed me to take olivier pain to my tent, and there await further instructions. once alone with pain in my tent, i could talk to him without fear of interruption. i had the strongest aversion to his mission; but i pitied the man who, if he thought to succeed in such an enterprise in this country, was the victim of so absurd a delusion. i again greeted him heartily, saying, "now, my dear mr. olivier pain, we shall be quite undisturbed for a few minutes; let us speak frankly. although i do not agree with your mission, i assure you, on my word as an officer, i will do all in my power to secure your personal safety. i have now been for years an exile from the civilised world; tell me something about outside affairs." "i trust you thoroughly," he replied; "i know you well by name, and have often heard of you, and i thank my good fortune which has brought me to you. there is a great deal to tell you; but for the present i will confine myself to egypt, which must interest us most." "tell me then," said i, "all about the revolt of ahmed arabi pasha, about the massacres, about the intervention of the powers, and about england, which has just occupied egypt." "i," said he, "am working for the 'indépendence' with rochefort, of whom you must have heard. england and france are politically antagonistic; and we do what we can to put as many difficulties as possible in england's way. i have not come here as a representative of my nation, but as a private individual with, however, the knowledge and concurrence of my nation. the english authorities, discovering my intentions, issued a warrant of arrest against me, and i was sent back from wadi halfa; but on my way down the river at esna i agreed secretly with some alighat arabs to bring me here by the road running west of dongola, through el kaab, to el obeid. to-day the mahdi has received me most kindly, and i hope for the best." "do you think that your proposal will be accepted?" said i. "should my proposal be refused," he answered, "i still hope the mahdi will be induced to enter into friendly relations with france; for the present that will be quite sufficient, and, as i have come here of my own free will, i trust the mahdi will not make my return impossible." "that is very questionable," said i; "but have you left a family at home?" "oh, yes," answered pain, "i have left my wife and two children in paris; i often think of them, and hope to see them soon again. but tell me, sir, frankly, why should i be detained?" "my dear sir," i replied, "as far as i know these people, i do not think you need at present have any fear for your own safety; but when and how you are going to get away from them, it is beyond my power to say. what i sincerely hope is, that your proposals, which may be advantageous to the enemy,--and i admit these mahdists are my most bitter enemies,--will not be accepted, and i also hope they will allow you to return unmolested to your wife and children, who must be anxiously awaiting you." meanwhile i had told my servants to get us something to eat; and i had sent for gustav klootz, o'donovan's former servant, to share our meal with us. we had scarcely begun, when two of the khalifa's mulazemin entered, and told olivier pain to follow them. he was much taken aback at being called off alone, and, in a whisper, commended himself to me. it also struck me as curious, for pain's arabic was quite unintelligible. i was talking about this to mustafa (klootz), when i also received a summons, and, on entering the khalifa's hut, i found him quite alone; he motioned to me to be seated, and i sat on the ground beside him. "abdel kader," said he, confidentially, "i look on you as one of us; tell me what do you think of this frenchman?" "i believe he is sincere and means well," said i; "but he did not know the mahdi nor you; he did not understand that you trusted only in god, and sought no support from other powers, and that this is the cause of your continual victories, because god is with those who put their trust in him!" "you heard the mahdi's words," continued the khalifa, "when he said to the frenchman that he wished to have nothing to do with unbelievers, and that he could defeat his enemies without their help?" "most certainly i did," i replied; "and therefore the man is useless here, and may as well return to his nation, and tell them about the victories of the mahdi and his commander-in-chief, the khalifa." "perhaps later," said the khalifa; "for the present, i have ordered him to stay with zeki tummal, who will take all care of him, and attend to his wants." "but it will be very difficult for him to make himself understood in arabic," i pleaded; "he is by no means a good arabic scholar yet." "he has been able to get here without an interpreter," answered the khalifa; "however, you have my permission to visit him." he then talked about other things, and showed me the horses zogal had sent him from darfur, some of which i knew very well. after leaving my master, i went in search of pain, whom i found sitting under the shade of a very battered old tent, his head resting on his hands, and evidently in deep thought; when he saw me, he at once rose, saying, "i don't know what to think about it all. i have been ordered to stay here; my baggage has been brought, and i am told that a certain zeki has been ordered to look after me. why don't they let me stay with you?" "it is the mahdi's nature; and the khalifa is even worse in working his will in contrariety to every human being under the sun. you are going through a course of what they call 'putting one to the test in patience, submission, and faith,'" said i, by way of sympathy; "but you need have no fear. the khalifa suspects us both, and is anxious to keep us apart, so that we should not criticise his actions. here comes zeki tummal. he was with me in many a fight; i will strongly commend you to him." i had now advanced to meet zeki, who shook hands with me, and asked how i was. "my friend," said i to him, "this is a stranger and your guest. i recommend him to your kind care; be forbearing with him for old acquaintance sake." "i shall let him want for nothing as far as it is in my power to do so," he replied; and then, more slowly, he said, "but the khalifa has told me not to let him have any intercourse with others, and i therefore beg you will come here only very occasionally." "these orders do not apply to me," said i; "just this moment i left our master's hut, and he has given me special permission to visit your guest. so again i beg you to treat this poor man with all consideration." i then returned to pain and tried to cheer him up, telling him that the khalifa had given orders he was not to be allowed to see other people; but this, i said, was no disadvantage, for they would probably have used the occasion to intrigue against him, and so put him in danger. as regards myself, however, i said i would come to see him as often as possible. the next morning, the khalifa's great war-drum, called "el mansura" (the victorious), was beaten; this was the signal for the march to begin again, and off we started. we generally marched from early morning till noon only, and thus our progress was not rapid. when we halted at midday, i went to look for pain, and found him sitting under his tent as before; he appeared in good health, but complained about the bad food. zeki, who was present whilst we were speaking, said that he had twice sent him some asida, but he would not touch it. i explained that he was not, of course, accustomed to native food yet, and that therefore i proposed getting my servant to prepare some food specially for him; and, returning at once, i ordered him to make some soup and boil some rice, and take it to olivier pain. that evening the khalifa asked me if i had seen him. i told him i had; but that, as he was not accustomed yet to native food, i had ordered my servant to prepare something else. i explained that if he were forced to eat the native food he might get ill; and that therefore, with his permission, i proposed sending him, every now and then, something special. the khalifa assented. "but," said he, "you eat of our food; it would therefore be better he should get used to it as soon as possible. by-the-bye where is mustafa? i have not seen him since we left rahad?" "he is staying with me, and helps my servants to look after the horses and camels," said i. "then send for him," said the khalifa. i did so; and in a few minutes he entered and stood before us. "where have you been? i have not seen you for weeks," said the khalifa, angrily. "have you forgotten that i am your master?" "with your permission i went to abdel kader, whom i help in his work. you do not care for me now, and have left me alone," replied klootz, in an annoyed tone. "then i will take good care of you in the future," cried the khalifa, still more angrily; and, calling in a mulazem, he ordered him to take mustafa to his clerk, ben naga, who should put him in chains. mustafa, without uttering a word, followed his guard. "mustafa and you," continued the khalifa, "have servants enough; and you can quite well do without him. i took him for myself; but he left me without any cause. i then ordered that he should serve my brother yakub; but he complained and left him too; and now that he is with you, he thinks he can dispense with us altogether." "pardon him," said i, "he is merciful who forgives. let him stay with your brother; perhaps he will improve." "he must remain a few days in chains," he answered, "so that he may know i am his master; he is not the same as you, who come every day to my door;" this he evidently said to quiet me, as he thought i was getting annoyed. he then ordered supper to be brought in; and i ate more than usual, so that he should not imagine i was doing anything contrary to his orders. he talked very little during the meal, and seemed out of spirits. after supper he made an attempt to say something kind; but i felt that his words belied him. we then separated, and, as i returned to my tent, i thought over the situation. i had resolved to remain on as good terms as i could with the khalifa, until the hour of my deliverance should come; but his imperious character, want of consideration, and immense self-conceit made my task a most difficult one. i had daily before my eyes the examples of several mulazemin whom he had thrown into chains, flogged, and deprived of their property (known as "tegrid") on the slightest provocation. he judged very quickly, being actuated entirely by his feelings at the moment, and loved to show that he was master. i will now give an example of the sort of man i had to deal with. abu anga, the commander of the black troops (jehadia), and his brother, fadl maula, who was his assistant, were both sons of a liberated slave who had borne them to one of the khalifa's relatives. fadl maula had a great friend and adviser in ahmed wad yunes of the shaigia tribe, and these two presented themselves before the khalifa one day, when fadl maula asked his master's permission for yunes to marry a certain girl, and give him his blessing. it happened, however, that the khalifa was in a bad humour, and wished to show his authority; so he immediately ordered the girl's father to be brought before him, and asked him, in the presence of the others, if he wished to give his daughter in marriage to yunes; and, on the man answering in the affirmative, the khalifa said, "i have decided, and consider it to the girl's advantage that she should marry fadl maula. have you any objection?" of course the girl's father had to assent, and, without a moment's hesitation, the khalifa, turning to his attendants, ordered them to read the marriage "fatha," or form of prayer and blessing on marriage. this was done, and dates were partaken of. the khalifa then dismissed all those present, and fadl maula departed one wife to the good, whilst yunes was one hope the poorer; but what the girl said about the new arrangement, i cannot tell. with a master of this character, one had to be very careful. after five days' march, we reached shatt, where most of the wells were filled up, and had to be reopened, and several straw huts erected; for the mahdi had decided to halt here for some days. during the march, i frequently visited pain, who daily grew more and more disheartened about the situation. he knew very little arabic, and was not permitted to talk to any one but the slaves charged with looking after him. in a few days, the object of his mission had vanished from his mind, and he thought now only of his wife and children. i urged him to look more hopefully on the future, and not to give way to depressing thoughts which would only make him more miserable. the khalifa seemed to have almost forgotten his existence, and scarcely ever asked for him. the day after our arrival at shatt, the mahdi's former sheikh, mohammed sherif, who had been expected for so long, at length arrived. he also had been forced by his friends, and by fear, to come to the mahdi as a penitent; but the latter received him most honourably, and himself led him to the tents he had specially pitched for him, and also presented him with two exceptionally pretty abyssinian girls, horses, etc. by this generous treatment, the mahdi attracted to himself almost all mohammed sherif's secret adherents. in the course of time, the khalifa forgave mustafa, allowed him to live with his clerk ben naga, and permitted him to talk to me. just at the time we left sherkéla, news arrived that gordon's troops had suffered a severe reverse; and now in shatt we received the detailed accounts of the overthrow of mohammed ali pasha at om debban by the sheikh el obeid. it appeared that when gordon had defeated the halfaya rebels at buri, he despatched mohammed ali with two thousand men to disperse the mahdists collected at om debban, the village of the sheikh el obeid. mohammed ali's career had been very rapid: at his own request he had left me in darfur with the rank of adjutant-major; gordon had promoted him to major; and, during the siege, he had risen to the rank of colonel, and soon afterwards to that of general. the force which he commanded against the sheikh el obeid was composed mostly of irregulars, and he was accompanied by crowds of women and slaves seeking for plunder. when on the march between el eilafun and om debban, he was attacked suddenly from all sides, and his force was almost entirely annihilated; only a few escaped to bring the sad news to khartum, where the grief was intense, and to gordon it must have indeed been a terrible blow. this success had encouraged the rebels to press the siege more closely; and now, reinforced as they were by wad en nejumi and his hosts, gordon found himself not strong enough to make a successful attack on the mahdists. from shatt we now advanced to duem, where the mahdi held an enormous review; and, pointing to the nile, he said, "god has created this river; he will give you its waters to drink, and you shall become the possessors of all the lands along its banks." this speech was greeted with shouts of joy by these wild fanatics, who at once believed that the wonderful land of egypt was to be their prey. from duem we proceeded to tura el hadra, where we spent the feast of great bairam; olivier pain was suffering from fever, and was growing more and more depressed. "i have tried many ventures in my life," said he, "without thinking much beforehand of the consequences; but my coming here was a fatal mistake. it would have been very much better for me if the english had succeeded in preventing me from carrying out my design." i did my best to comfort him, but he only shook his head. at the feast of bairam, the mahdi repeated prayers in an unusually loud voice; and when he read the "khutba," he wept long and bitterly. we unbelievers well knew that this weeping was hypocrisy, and boded no good; but it had the desired effect on the fanatical crowds who had flocked to his banners from the river tribes, and who were roused by this touching sermon to the highest pitch of enthusiasm. after a halt of two days, we again moved on, creeping forward like a great tortoise, so swelled were we by the thousands upon thousands who were now joining daily from every part of the sudan. poor olivier had grown considerably worse; his fever had turned to typhus. he begged me to induce the mahdi to let him have some money, as he was so pestered by the begging appeals of his attendants. i went to him, and explained pain's condition; and the mahdi at once sent to the beit el mal for £ , and wished the sick man a speedy recovery. i had also told the khalifa of pain's serious illness, and that the mahdi had given him £ ; but he blamed me for having asked for it without his permission, adding, "if he dies here, he is a happy man. god in his goodness and omnipotence has converted him from an unbeliever to a believer." early in the morning, at the end of the first week in october, i was sent for by pain, and found him so weak that he could not stand up. for two days he had not touched the food i had sent him; and, placing his hand in mine, he said, "my last hour has come; i thank you for your great kindness and care of me. the last favour i have to ask of you is this: when you escape from the hands of these barbarous people, and you happen to go to paris, tell my unfortunate wife and children my dying thoughts were for them." as he said these words, tears rolled down the poor man's hollow and sunken cheeks. again i tried to comfort him, saying that it was too soon to give up hope; and as the war-drum was beating for the advance, i had to hurry away and leave him. it was the last time i saw him alive. i left behind with him one of my servants named "atrun" (natron), and during the march i told the khalifa of pain's condition, urging him to leave the poor man behind at some village where he might have a few days' rest; he told me to remind him of it that evening. the evening came, but no sick man arrived; atrun came alone. "where is yusef?" (this was pain's mohammedan name), said i, for the boy seemed much agitated. "my master is dead," he answered; "and that is the reason we are so late." "dead!" said i. "yes, dead and buried," replied atrun. "tell me at once what has happened," i asked. "my master yusef was so weak," said he, "that he could not ride; but we had to go on marching. every now and then he lost consciousness; then he would come to again and talk words we could not understand. so we tied an angareb on to the saddle, and laid him on it; but he was too weak to hold on, and he fell down suddenly and very heavily. after this he did not come to again, and he was soon dead; so we wrapped him up in his farda [cotton shawl], and buried him, and all his effects were taken to zeki by his slaves." olivier pain was undoubtedly very seriously ill; but the fall was probably the immediate cause of his sudden death. poor man! with what a high sounding mission he had come; and now this was the end of it all! i immediately went to the khalifa, and reported his death to him. "he is a happy man," was his curt remark; he then despatched a mulazem to warn zeki to have all his effects carefully kept, and he sent me to the mahdi to apprise him of his end. the latter took it to heart much more than the khalifa, said several sympathetic words, and repeated the prayers for the dead. after three days, we reached the neighbourhood of khartum, and halted at a place about one day's journey from the city. on our way, we had seen gordon's steamers in the distance; they had come up evidently to watch our movements, and had returned again without firing. it was evening, and we had just finished pitching camp, when a mulazem of the mahdi arrived, and directed me to follow him; i went at once, and found him sitting with abdel kader wad om mariam, formerly kadi of kalakla, and a man who exercised a great influence on the people of the white nile. hussein khalifa was also there; and i formed the fourth of the party. "i have sent for you," said the mahdi, "to tell you to write to gordon to save himself from certain defeat. tell him that i am the true mahdi, and that he ought to surrender with his garrison, and thus save himself and his soul. tell him also, that if he refuses to obey, we shall every one of us fight against him. say that you yourself will fight against him with your own hands. say that victory will be ours, and that you merely tell him this in order to avoid useless bloodshed." i remained silent till hussein khalifa called on me to answer. "o mahdi!" said i, "listen, i beg of you, to my words. i will be honest and faithful; and i pray you to forgive me, if what i say is not pleasing to you. if i write to gordon that you are the true mahdi, he will not believe me; and if i threaten to fight against him with my own hands, he will not be afraid of that. now as you desire, under any circumstances, to avoid shedding blood, i shall simply summon him to surrender. i shall say that he is not strong enough to attempt to fight against you who are ever-victorious, as he has no hope of help from outside; and, finally, i shall say that i will be the intermediary between you and him." "i accept your sincere proposal," said the mahdi; "go now and write the letters, and to-morrow they shall be despatched to gordon." i now returned to my quarters. my tent, owing to the difficulties of transport, had been torn to shreds, and i had made a present of the rags to some one; i had in place of it stretched some strips of cloth on sticks, and thus provided a slight shade for myself during the daytime, whilst at night i slept in the open. searching about for a lantern, i wrote the letters seated on an angareb under the open sky. first i wrote a few lines to gordon in french, explaining that i was writing to him fully in german because, my french dictionary having been burnt by the mahdists, who thought it was a prayer book, i did not feel capable of expressing myself as i wished in that language. i said that i hoped i should soon have an opportunity of joining him; and i prayed god that he might be successful. i also mentioned that some of the shaigias who had recently joined the mahdi did so to save their wives and children, and not because they entertained any feelings of hostility towards gordon. i then wrote a long letter to him in german, saying that i had learnt through george calamatino that he was annoyed at my capitulation, and that therefore i took the liberty of placing the facts of the case before him, begging him to form his opinion accordingly. i began by recalling my campaigns against sultan harun and dud benga, and explaining how, on the outbreak of the mahdi revolt, the few officers left, believing that arabi pasha had succeeded in driving the europeans out of the country, had spread reports that my recent defeats lay in the fact that i was a christian; how i had stifled the injurious effects of these intrigues by giving out that i was a mohammedan; and how i had, by this means, been subsequently successful until the annihilation of hicks' army had cut off all hope of relief. i told him how my constant fights had reduced my available force to some seven hundred men; that my stock of ammunition was well-nigh exhausted; that both officers and men desired capitulation: and what therefore could i do--a european and alone--but submit. i told him how this surrender had been one of the hardest acts of my life; but that as an austrian officer i felt that i had not acted in a dishonourable manner. i then went on to say that by obedient and submissive behaviour i had in some measure gained the confidence of the mahdi and the khalifa, and had obtained their permission to write to him, on the pretext that i was asking him to surrender; but that, instead, i availed myself of this opportunity to offer him my services in order to assure him that i was ready to conquer, or die with him, if god willed, an honourable death. should he agree to be an accessory to my escape to khartum, i begged him to write me a few lines in french to that effect; but, in order to carry through the ruse, i suggested that he should also write me a few lines in arabic, asking me to obtain the mahdi's permission to come to omdurman, in order to discuss with him the conditions of surrender. i went on to tell him that saleh bey and several of the sheikhs wished to express their loyalty and devotion to him; but that, under the circumstances, it was impossible for them to come to him, as, by so doing, they would necessarily sacrifice their wives and children. i now wrote a third letter, in german, to consul hansal, asking him to do his utmost to arrange that i should re-enter khartum, as, being thoroughly cognisant of the mahdi's plans, intentions, strength, etc., i believed i could be of great service to general gordon; but, at the same time, as rumours had been in circulation in the mahdi's camp that, if relief should not soon come, gordon intended to surrender the town, and as at that time i was quite ignorant of gordon's prospects of relief, i begged consul hansal to inform me of this, as, in the event of the town being surrendered subsequent to my having entered khartum, i should naturally be the mahdi's lawful victim on which to vent all his anger at my escape and my efforts to aid his enemies. it seemed to me that it was quite reasonable on my part to seek some such assurance. at the same time, rumours being current in the camp that the khartum garrison were much out of heart and wished to surrender, i strongly urged hansal in my letter not to feel discouraged, pointing out that the mahdi's forces were not so numerous as he imagined, and that it only required energy and perseverance on the part of the egyptian troops to be eventually successful, and i urged that they should wait at least six weeks, or two months, longer before submitting, so as to give the relief expedition a chance of saving them.[ ] i also told him there was a rumour in camp that the small steamer which had been sent to dongola had been wrecked at wadi gamr; but that i was not at present in a position to say whether it was true or not. early the next morning, the th october, i took these letters to the mahdi and he told me to send them by one of my boys to omdurman. i at once went and fetched morgan fur, a boy of about fifteen years of age, and handed him the letters in the mahdi's presence; and the latter ordered wad suleiman to give him a donkey and some money. before sending him off, i gave him the most strict injunctions to speak to no one in khartum except to gordon pasha and consul hansal, and to assure them that i wished to come to them. at midday, some horsemen arrived from berber, confirming the news of the wreck of the steamer, and of the murder of colonel stewart, and those with him. the men brought with them all the papers and documents found on board; and i was ordered by the khalifa to examine those written in european languages in ahmed wad suleiman's office. amongst them, i found several private letters from people in khartum, as well as official documents and records. the most important of these was, of course, the military report describing the daily occurrences in khartum; it was unsigned, but i had no doubt it was general gordon's. a portion only of the correspondence, etc., was shown to me; and before i had had time to peruse it fully, i was again summoned before the mahdi, who asked me what the contents were. i replied, that most of them were private letters, and that there was a military report, which i did not understand. unfortunately amongst the captured correspondence were numbers of arabic letters and reports, from which the mahdi and the khalifa were able to thoroughly grasp the situation in khartum. there was also a half-cyphered arabic telegram from general gordon to his highness the khedive, which abdel halim effendi, formerly head clerk in kordofan, was able to decypher. amongst the consular reports, i found a notice of the death in khartum of my old friend ernst marno, who had succumbed to fever. the mahdi now discussed, in my presence, what papers should be sent to gordon, in order to convince him that the steamer had been wrecked, and colonel stewart and the others killed, thinking that this would force gordon to surrender. i pointed out that the only document likely to convince gordon, was his military report, which i suggested should be returned; and, after a long discussion, it was decided to send it. the crowds accompanying the mahdi were now complaining greatly of the want of corn and dhurra; the price of an ardeb had risen to eighteen medjidie dollars, which were then equivalent to about nine pounds sterling. this extraordinary rate of exchange had been brought about by the scarcity of dollars, in consequence of which the treasurer had ordered the money captured at berber--some £ , to £ , in gold--to be sent to the mahdi's camp; and this had been distributed. at times, a sovereign valued even as little as a dollar and a half. though dhurra was so expensive, the prices of sheep and cattle were unusually low,--a good ox or cow could be purchased for a dollar and a half or two dollars, and a calf for half a dollar. this arose from the fact that an immense number of cattle-owning arabs had immigrated with the mahdi from the west, and had brought their flocks and herds with them to the river; here the pasturage was quite insufficient for such quantities of animals. the mahdi had therefore preached a sermon to the herdsmen, to the effect that tending flocks and herds, at the present time, was a useless occupation, and that all their attention should now be centred on fighting the religious war; consequently these ignorant people followed his advice, and sold their cattle at these absurdly low rates. the next evening, my boy morgan returned from his mission, but brought no reply. when i inquired how this was, he said, he had reached omdurman fort, had delivered his letters, and, after waiting for a short time, the commandant had told him to return, as there was no answer. i at once took the boy to the mahdi, to whom he repeated what had occurred; and afterwards i went and informed the khalifa. that same evening, the mahdi again summoned me, and ordered me to write another letter, which he said gordon would be sure to answer, when he heard of the loss of the steamer. i at once expressed myself ready to carry out his wishes; and he directed that my boy morgan should again act as messenger. once more i betook myself to my angareb, and, by the flickering light of an old lantern, scribbled another letter, reporting the loss of the steamer, the death of stewart, and repeating much of what i had said in my first letters, adding that if, in his opinion, i had done anything contrary to the honour of an officer, and if that had hindered him from writing to me, i begged he would give me a chance of defending myself, and thus give himself an opportunity of coming to a correct judgment. early the next morning, i went again with morgan to the mahdi; the latter ordered ahmed wad suleiman to supply him with a donkey, and, taking my letter, he went off, returning the following morning with a reply from consul hansal, written in german, with an arabic translation; it ran as follows:-- dear friend slatin bey,--your letters have been duly received, and i request you will come to tabia ragheb bey [omdurman fort]. i wish to speak to you about the steps to be taken for our rescue; you may then return unmolested to your friend. yours very truly, (signed) hansal. this letter puzzled me somewhat; i could not be sure if it was written with the object merely of deceiving the mahdi, in which case the arabic was amply sufficient for the purpose; but i thought he might have written more clearly in german, though perhaps he conceived there might have been some one else with the mahdi who understood that language, and i might have been thereby endangered. then, taking the letter literally, he seemed to hint at joining us himself,--indeed we had already heard rumours that he, becoming alarmed at the probable fall of the town, wished to submit with the other austrian subjects to the mahdi; but it was of course quite impossible to say if he meant this or not. then again, as regards my joining gordon in khartum, could he really mean that the latter had refused to listen to my request, or was his expression that i "may then return unmolested to my friend" merely meant as a blind to the mahdi?--i confess i was utterly perplexed; my suspense, however, was not of long duration. i at once took the letter to the mahdi, and explained to him that the arabic text exactly corresponded with the german original. when he had finished reading it, he asked me if i wished to go, and i replied that i was ready to comply with his orders, and that my services were always at his disposal. "i am rather afraid," said he, "that if you go to omdurman to speak to your consul, gordon may arrest or kill you. why did he not write to you himself, if he thinks well of you?" "i do not know why he is so silent," said i; "perhaps it is contrary to his orders to enter into communication with us; however, when i meet hansal i may be able to arrange matters. you say you are afraid gordon might arrest me; but i am not, and even if he did i am quite sure you could release me; but as to his killing me, that is altogether out of the question." "well," said the mahdi, "get yourself ready to go, and i will let you know." on my way to the mahdi's hut, i had heard of lupton bey's arrival from bahr el ghazal; and now, on my way back, i went in search of him, and found him outside the khalifa's door waiting to be received. although it was against rules to speak to any one before he had received the mahdi's pardon, i could not resist greeting him heartily, and, in a few words, told him about the letters; and he said he earnestly hoped i might be allowed to go to khartum. he told me he had left his servants and the rest of his people at some hours' distance, and he asked me to obtain the khalifa's permission for them to come in. a few minutes afterwards, he was summoned before the khalifa, obtained his pardon, was told that he might go and bring in his people, and that he would be presented to the mahdi on his return. meanwhile, i went back to my quarters, and lay on my angareb impatiently awaiting my orders to be allowed to go to omdurman; or had the mahdi, perhaps, changed his mind, and decided not to let me go? at length, one of my boys came and told me that a mulazem of the khalifa's wished to see me, and, getting up, he told me to follow him to yakub's camp, where his master was waiting for me. without a moment's delay, i bound my turban round my head, put on my hizam (belt), and followed. at yakub's camp, we were told that the khalifa had gone on to abu anga's zariba, where he was waiting for us. i was beginning to get suspicious; all this wandering about at night was very unusual. i knew how deceitful these people were, and i was therefore prepared for any eventuality. arrived at abu anga's zariba, we were admitted by the sentry. it was an immense enclosure filled with little shelters made of strips of cotton fixed on poles, and separated from each other by small dhurra-stalk fences. we were directed to one of these shelters, and there, by the dim light of a lantern, i saw yakub, abu anga, fadl el maula, zeki tummal, and hajji zubeir seated round in a circle talking earnestly; behind them stood several armed men; but no trace was to be seen of the khalifa who, i had been told, had sent for me. i was now almost certain in my own mind that foul play was intended. the mulazem advanced and spoke to yakub, and i was then summoned to enter, and to place myself between hajji zubeir and fadl el maula, while opposite to me sat abu anga. "abdel kader," began abu anga, "you have promised to be faithful to the mahdi; and it is your duty to keep your word; it is also your duty to obey orders, even should you suffer thereby. is not this so?" "certainly," said i, "and you, abu anga, if you give me any orders from the mahdi or the khalifa, you will see that i know how to obey them." "i received orders to make you a prisoner; but i do not know the reason," said he; and, as he spoke, hajji zubeir snatched away my sword, which, as was customary, i had laid across my knees whilst speaking, and, handing it to zeki tummal, he seized my right arm with both hands. "i did not come here to fight," said i to hajji zubeir; "why should you seize my arm; but you, abu anga, of course you must do as you are bidden." what i had often inflicted on others, i was now about to undergo myself. abu anga then stood up, and also hajji zubeir and myself, when the latter let go my arm. "go to that tent," said abu anga, pointing to a shelter which, in the dark, i could scarcely see, "and you, hajji zubeir and the rest, go with him." accompanied by my gaoler, and some eight others, i went to the tent, where i was directed to sit on the ground, and chains were now brought out. two large iron rings, bound together by a thick iron bar, were slipped over my feet, and then hammered close; an iron ring was placed round my neck, and to this was attached a long iron chain with the links so arranged that i had the greatest difficulty in moving my head. i endured all this in perfect silence; hajji zubeir then left, and i was told, by the two soldiers who were guarding me, to lie down on the palm-mat close by. left to myself, i had now time to collect my thoughts; and, first of all, i bitterly regretted not having attempted to escape on my horse to khartum; but who could tell if gordon would have received me? now, in accordance with the mahdi's orders, i was out of harm's way; but what was to be my fate? was it to be that of mohammed pasha said and ali bey sherif? i was not in the habit of worrying about my personal concerns, and making life miserable. what had madibbo told me, "be obedient and patient; for he who lives long sees much." i had been obedient; it was now my turn to practise patience; and as for a long life, that was entirely in god's hands. about an hour later, during which, as may be imagined, i had not slept, i saw several mulazemin approaching, carrying lanterns, and, as they neared the tent, i made out khalifa abdullahi walking in the middle. i stood up and waited for him. "abdel kader," said he, when he saw me standing in front of him, "are you submitting with resignation to your fate?" "since my childhood," i replied quietly, "i have been accustomed to be obedient; now i must be obedient whether i like it or no." "your friendship with saleh wad el mek," said he, "and your correspondence with gordon, have cast suspicion on you, and we doubt if your heart is still inclined to us; that is the reason i have ordered you to be forcibly directed in the right way." "i made no secret of my friendship with saleh wad el mek," said i; "he is a friend of mine, and i believe he is loyal to you. as regards my correspondence with gordon, the mahdi ordered me to write the letters." "did he also order you to write what you did?" interrupted the khalifa. "i think i wrote what the mahdi required," i replied; "and no one knows the contents except myself and the person who received the letters. all i require, sire, is justice; and i beg that you will pay no heed to lying intriguers." i was again alone, and tried to sleep, but was too excited. all sorts of strange thoughts and ideas coursed through my brain; the iron round my feet and neck too pained me considerably, and i could get no rest. i scarcely got a wink of sleep that night; and, at sunrise, abu anga came, followed by servants carrying some dishes of food. seating himself beside me on the palm-mat, the food was placed before us; it was quite a feast, composed of meal, chickens, rice and milk, honey, roast meat and asida. but when i told him i had absolutely no appetite, he said, "i think, abdel kader, you are afraid; and that is why you do not eat." "no," i replied, "it is not fear, but want of appetite. however, to please you, i will try and eat something;" and i managed to swallow a few mouthfuls, whilst abu anga did all he could to show that i was his honoured guest. "the khalifa," said he, "was rather disappointed yesterday, when he saw you were not humbled; and remarked you were strong-headed, and that, he supposed, was the reason you were not afraid." "how could i throw myself at his feet," said i, "and crave his pardon for a crime i never committed? i am in his hands, and he can do as he likes with me." "to-morrow, we shall advance," said abu anga, "and draw nearer to khartum; we shall press the siege more closely, and then make a sudden attack. i shall ask the khalifa to let you stay with me; that will be less hard for you than going to the common prison." i thanked him for his kindness, and he then left. all that day, i was quite alone, but went through my prayers most carefully in the sight of the bystanders, holding in my hand the rosary which all good mohammedans carry; but in reality i was repeating over and over again the lord's prayer. in the far distance, near abu anga's tent, i caught sight of my servants and horses and the little baggage i had. one of my boys also came and told me he had been ordered to attach himself to abu anga. early the next morning, the great war-drum sounded the advance; tents were struck, baggage packed and loaded on camels, and the whole camp was in movement. the weight of iron on my feet prevented me from walking, so they brought me a donkey; the long neck-chain--the number of figure-of-eight links of which i had amused myself in counting, and which amounted to eighty-three, each about a span long--i wrapped round and round my body, and in this iron casing i was lifted on to the donkey, and held in position by a man on each side, otherwise my weight would have made me overbalance and fall. on the march, several of my old friends passed, but dared do nothing but pity me in silence. we halted on some rising ground in the afternoon, and from here i could see the palm-trees in khartum; how i longed, as one of its garrison, to join in its defence! the order was now given to make a temporary camp in this position, under khalifa abdullahi, whilst the principal emirs went forward to select the site for a permanent camp. by this time, the pangs of hunger had seized me, and i longed for some of the food which abu anga had offered me yesterday; but the latter was now with the khalifa, and had evidently forgotten all about us. however, the wife of one of my guards found him out, and brought him some stale dhurra-bread, which he shared with me. next morning, we were again ordered to advance, and halted about an hour further on, at the spot selected for the main camp. as abu anga had promised, it was now arranged that i should definitely remain under his charge; a tattered old tent was pitched for me, and around it, close to the tent ropes, a thorn zariba was made. i was put in here, and the entrance, which was guarded by soldiers, was blocked by a large thorn-bush. the mahdi now ordered the siege to be vigorously pressed; that evening several emirs were sent over to the east bank of the white nile to reinforce wad en nejumi and abu girga; and all the local people were summoned to join in the investment. abu anga and fadl el maula were told off to besiege omdurman fort, which was situated about five hundred yards from the river, on the west bank, and was defended by faragalla pasha,--a sudanese officer who, in the space of one year, had been promoted from the rank of captain to that of general officer, by gordon. abu anga succeeded in establishing himself between the fort and the river; and, by digging deep trenches, he obtained sufficient shelter to hold this advanced position in spite of the heavy fire from both the fort and the steamers; one of the latter he succeeded in sinking by shells fired from a gun he had placed in position; but the crew managed to escape to khartum.[ ] during the siege, i was quite neglected; my guards were changed every day, and my welfare entirely depended on their treatment of me. if they happened to be slaves who had been captured, i was most carefully watched, and permitted to have no intercourse with any one; but if they happened to be old soldiers who knew me, i was not so closely restrained, and they often did me little services, though they prevented me from speaking to any one. my food was of the very worst description; and, abu anga being always occupied in the siege, i was left to the tender mercies of his wives, to whom he had given orders to feed me. on one occasion, one of my former soldiers happened to be on guard over me, and i sent him with a message to abu anga's chief wife, complaining that i had been kept without food for two days; and i got back the answer, "well, does abdel kader think we are going to fatten him up here, whilst his uncle, gordon pasha, does nothing but fire shells all day at our master, whose life is always in danger through his fault? if he had made his uncle submit, he would not now be in chains." from her own standpoint, the woman's views were perfectly justifiable. occasionally, some of the greeks were allowed to come and see me, and they used to tell me the news. on the day we arrived here, poor lupton bey was also thrown into chains, as he was suspected of attempting to join gordon; besides, when his effects were searched, a document was found, signed by all the officers of his regular troops, stating that he had been forced to surrender his province. his wife and little daughter of five years old were sent to live at the beit el mal. the former had been brought up as a black servant girl in the house of rosset, formerly german consul at khartum, and, on his being appointed governor of darfur, she had accompanied him there; on his death at el fasher, she went with lupton to equatoria and bahr el ghazal. by the khalifa's orders, all lupton's property was confiscated; but he allowed his wife and child the services of a black female slave to help them in their daily work. one day, george calamatino brought me the news that the english army, under lord wolseley, was advancing slowly, and had reached dongola; but they had delayed too long in upper egypt, and now that khartum was in the greatest danger, their advanced guard was no further south than dongola: under these circumstances, when could their main body arrive? some time after the proclamation of the abandonment of the sudan had been made known, gordon had given the khartum people to understand that an english army was coming up to relieve them; and he had thus inspired the garrison and inhabitants with hope and courage. they had been, so to speak, given a new lease of life, and all eyes were anxiously turned to the north, from whence the expected help was to come. would it come in time?--that was the question. these days passed in my tattered tent were full of hopes and fears. it was not that i was concerned about my own safety, but i could not help anticipating coming events with the greatest anxiety; how would it all end, and what was to be my future? poor lupton, in company with some dervishes, was forced to work a gun which had been placed in position opposite tuti island. he had been promised that, in recompense for this work, the condition of his wife and child would be improved, and they would be given better means of subsistence. abdalla wad ibrahim also came to me, and said it was the mahdi's earnest wish that i should take charge of a gun; and, if i worked it faithfully, he would give me my liberty. i replied that i was too ill and weak to work laden with these chains; and, besides, i had no idea how guns were worked; and that therefore it was impossible for me to buy my liberty at this price. "perhaps," said wad ibrahim, "you are unwilling to fire on gordon, who is said to be your uncle, and that is your reason for making these excuses?" "i have neither uncle nor any other relatives in khartum," said i; "and my shells alone would certainly not force khartum to surrender; however, my present state of health will not admit of my undertaking this work." abdalla rose and left me; and, a few hours later, some of the khalifa's mulazemin came and forged on to my ankles another set of iron rings and a bar,--to humble me i suppose; but as the weight i already bore prevented me from standing upright, and i was obliged to remain lying down day and night, an iron more or less did not make much difference. the next few days passed without anything noteworthy occurring. occasionally i heard the crack of the rifles and the booming of the guns of besieger and besieged; but the greeks were not allowed to come and see me now, and i was in complete ignorance of what was going on. one night about four hours after sunset, when blessed sleep, which makes one forget all one's troubles, was gradually stealing over me, i was suddenly roused by the sentry, and ordered to get up at once; as i did so, i saw one of the khalifa's mulazemin, who announced that his master was just coming; and, as he spoke, i saw men approaching carrying lanterns. what could the khalifa want of me at such an hour? i asked myself in great perplexity. "abdel kader," said he, in a kindly tone, as he approached, "sit down;" and, his servants having stretched out his sheepskin, he sat on it beside me. "i have here," he continued, "a piece of paper; and i want you to tell me what is written on it, and so prove to me your fidelity." "certainly, if i can do so," said i, taking the paper. it was about half the size of a cigarette paper, and there was plain writing in black ink on both sides of it. i at once recognised gordon's handwriting and signature; i held the paper close to the lantern, and saw the following words written in french:-- i have about , men; can hold khartum at the outside till the end of january. elias pasha wrote to me; he was forced to do so. he is old and incapable; i forgive him. try hajji mohammed abu girga, or sing another song. gordon. there was nothing to show for whom it was intended. i was certain there was no one in the camp who knew french, and that was the reason the khalifa had come to me. "now, then," said the khalifa, impatiently, "have you made out what it means?" "the note is from gordon," said i, "and it is written with his own hand, in french cypher language, which i cannot understand." "what do you say?" said the khalifa, now evidently much agitated; "explain yourself better." "there are some words written here the sense of which i cannot make out," said i; "every word has its own special meaning, and can only be understood by those accustomed to the use of cyphers; if you ask any of the old officials, they will confirm what i say." "i was told that the names of elias pasha and hajji mohammed abu girga are mentioned; is this so?" roared the khalifa, now thoroughly angry. "the man who said that told you the truth, and i also can read their names; but it is impossible for me to understand the reference. perhaps the man who told you their names were there can make out the rest of the letter," said i, somewhat ironically; "besides i can also make out , in figures; but whether it means soldiers, or something else, it is quite impossible for me to say." he now seized the paper from my hand, and stood up. "pardon me," said i, "i would with pleasure have proved my fidelity to you, and have thus regained your gracious favour; but it is out of my power. i think your clerks understand about cyphers better than i do." "even if i do not know what this paper contains," said the khalifa, "still gordon shall fall, and khartum will be ours;" and then he departed, leaving me alone with my guards. gordon had said in his little note that he could hold khartum at the outside till the end of january; we were now nearly at the end of december. could the rescuing army possibly arrive in time? but why should i worry myself with such thoughts? here am i in chains, and utterly useless to any one, and nothing i can do can change the course of things. the next morning, i had a visit from a greek, now called abdullahi, who had been appointed emir of the muslimania (christians who had become moslems.) without letting him know that the khalifa had come to me the previous night, i asked him what was the news, and whether anything was known of the english expedition. he told me that the advanced guard had reached debbeh, and was about to advance to metemmeh; that the mahdi knew all about this, and had ordered all the barabra and jaalin to collect at metemmeh under mohammed el kheir, and await the enemy. he told me that the siege was drawn more closely round khartum, and that, the previous day, the garrison had attempted to make a sortie, but had been forced back; that sanjak mohammed kafr jod, the brother of the imprisoned saleh wad el mek, had been killed, that his head had been cut off and sent to the khalifa, who had ordered it to be thrown at the feet of saleh, who was gazing at the ground. recognising instantly his brother's head, but without the slightest change of countenance, saleh said, "di gizahu, di kismathu" (this is his punishment, this is his fate); then, turning to the saier (commander of the prison), he said to him, "did you mean by this to startle me, or inspire me with fear?" what nerves and self-control the man must have had! the next day, one of my guards told me that mohammed khaled had sent reinforcements of men and some ammunition from darfur to the mahdi; also that some of the emirs of khalifa ali wad helu's flag had received orders to leave for metemmeh, under the command of his brother, musa wad helu. no doubt there was something in the wind. it was now the beginning of january, and gordon had said he could hold out till the end of the month; so the decisive moment was drawing closer and closer. during the next few days, there was very heavy firing between the dervishes and omdurman fort. faragalla pasha was doing his utmost; and, in spite of the small number of his men, he attempted a sortie, but was driven back. the supplies in the fort were finished, and negotiations were now going on for its surrender. faragalla had signalled to gordon for instructions; but the latter, being unable to support him, had told him to capitulate. the entire garrison received the mahdi's pardon. the men had nothing but the clothes in which they stood, and their wives and children were all in khartum. as they marched out, the mahdists marched in, but were almost immediately driven out again by the artillery fire from khartum; in the fort itself there were two breech-loading guns, but their range did not extend as far as the town. the surrender took place on th january, . although omdurman had now fallen, the mahdi did not send any reinforcements to the besiegers south and east of khartum; he well knew that the number of his followers collected there was quite sufficient for the purpose. both he and the garrison of khartum now looked, with the most intense anxiety, towards the north from whence the final decision must be awaited. gordon pasha had sent five steamers to metemmeh some time ago, under khashm el mus and abdel hamid wad mohammed, in order to await the arrival of the english, and bring some of them, with the necessary supplies, to khartum as soon as possible. no doubt he was expecting their arrival with the greatest anxiety. he had staked everything on this; and no one knew what had become of them. at the beginning of the month, gordon had allowed several of the families to leave khartum. up to that time, he could not bear to forcibly drive them out of the town; and, in consequence, he had been obliged to make a daily distribution of hundreds of okes of biscuit and dhurra amongst these destitute people; and for that he had, no doubt, god's reward, but he thereby ruined himself and his valuable men. every one was crying out for bread, and the stores were almost empty! he now did all he could to induce the people to leave the town. had he only done so two or three months earlier, there would have been ample supplies to last the troops a long time; but gordon, thinking that help was coming so soon to him, to the troops, and to the inhabitants, did not provide for possible detentions. did he think that it was out of the question for an english expedition to be delayed? six days after the fall of omdurman, loud weeping and wailing filled our camp; since i had left darfur i had not heard anything like it. the mahdi's doctrine forbade the display of sorrow and grief for those who died, or were killed, because they had entered into the joys of paradise. something very unusual must therefore have happened to make the people dare to transgress the mahdi's regulations. my guards, who were old soldiers, were so curious to know the cause that they left me to make inquiries, and, in a few minutes, brought back the startling news, that the english advanced guard had met the combined force of barabra, jaalin, degheim, and kenana, under musa wad helu at abu teleh (abu klea), and had utterly defeated them; thousands had fallen, and the few who had survived had returned, many of them wounded. the degheim and kenana had been almost annihilated; musa wad helu, and most of the emirs, had fallen. what news!--my heart was literally thumping with joyous excitement. after all these long years, a crowning victory at last! the mahdi and khalifa at once gave orders that all this noise should cease; but for hours the weeping and wailing of the women continued. instructions were now given to nur angara to start off with troops towards metemmeh; but what good would this do, even if he had had the will, which he had not, what could he do with a few troops when thousands and thousands of wild fanatics had failed? within the next two or three days, came the news of other defeats at abu kru and kubba (gubat), and of the erection of a fort on the nile close to metemmeh. the mahdi and his principal emirs now held a consultation. all the wonderful victories they had gained up to the present were at stake; for those besieging khartum were terrified and had retired. it was now the question of a few days only, and the mahdi was done. they must risk everything. consequently, orders were sent out to the besiegers to collect and make all preparations. why did the long expected steamers with the english troops not come? did their commanders not know khartum, and the lives of all in it, were hanging by a thread? in vain did i, and thousands of others, wait for the shrill whistle of the steamer, and for the booming of the guns announcing that the english had arrived, and were passing the entrenchments made by the dervishes to oppose them. yes, in vain! the delay was inexplicable; what could it mean? had new difficulties arisen? it was now sunday, the th of january,--a day i shall never forget as long as i live. that evening, when it was dark, the mahdi and his khalifas crossed over in a boat to where their warriors were all collected ready for the fight. it was known during the day that khartum would be attacked the next morning; and the mahdi had now gone to brace up his followers for the fray by preaching to them the glories of jehad, and urging them to fight till death. pray heaven gordon may have got the news, and made his preparations to resist in time! on this occasion, the mahdi and his khalifas had most strictly enjoined their followers to restrain their feelings, and receive the last injunctions in silence, instead of with the usual shouts and acclamations, which might awaken the suspicions of the exhausted and hungry garrison. his solemn harangue over, the mahdi recrossed, and returned to the camp at dawn, leaving with the storming party only khalifa sherif, who had begged to be allowed to join in the holy battle. that night was for me the most excitingly anxious one in my life. if only the attack were repulsed, khartum would be saved; otherwise, all would be lost. utterly exhausted, i was just dropping off to sleep at early dawn, when i was startled by the deafening discharge of thousands of rifles and guns; this lasted for a few minutes, then only occasional rifle-shots were heard, and now all was quiet again. it was scarcely light, and i could barely distinguish objects. could this possibly be the great attack on khartum? a wild discharge of fire-arms and cannon, and in a few minutes complete stillness? the sun was now rising red over the horizon; what would this day bring forth? excited and agitated, i awaited the result with intense impatience. soon shouts of rejoicing and victory were heard in the distance; and my guards ran off to find out the news. in a few minutes, they were back again, excitedly relating how khartum had been taken by storm, and was now in the hands of the mahdists. was it possible the news was false? i crawled out of my tent, and scanned the camp; a great crowd had collected before the quarters of the mahdi and khalifa, which were not far off; then there was a movement in the direction of my tent; and i could see plainly they were coming towards me. in front, marched three black soldiers; one named shatta, formerly belonging to ahmed bey dafalla's slave body-guard, carried in his hands a bloody cloth in which something was wrapped up, and behind him followed a crowd of people weeping. the slaves had now approached my tent, and stood before me with insulting gestures; shatta undid the cloth and showed me the head of general gordon! the blood rushed to my head, and my heart seemed to stop beating; but, with a tremendous effort of self-control, i gazed silently at this ghastly spectacle. his blue eyes were half-opened; the mouth was perfectly natural; the hair of his head, and his short whiskers, were almost quite white. "is not this the head of your uncle the unbeliever?" said shatta, holding the head up before me. "what of it?" said i, quietly. "a brave soldier who fell at his post; happy is he to have fallen; his sufferings are over." [illustration: bringing gordon's head to slatin.] "ha, ha!" said shatta, "so you still praise the unbeliever; but you will soon see the result;" and, leaving me, he went off to the mahdi, bearing his terrible token of victory; behind him followed the crowd, still weeping. i re-entered my tent. i was now utterly broken-hearted: khartum fallen, and gordon dead! and this was the end of the brave soldier who had fallen at his post,--the end of a man whose courage and utter disregard of fear were remarkable, and whose personal characteristics had given him a celebrity in the world which was quite exceptional. of what use was the english army now? how fatal had been the delay at metemmeh! the english advanced guard had reached gubat on the nile, on the th of january, at a. m.; on the st, gordon's four steamers had arrived. then why did they not send some englishmen on board, no matter how few, and despatch them instantly to khartum? if they could only have been seen in the town, the garrison would have taken fresh hope, and would have fought tooth and nail against the enemy; whilst the inhabitants, who had lost all confidence in gordon's promises, would have joined most heartily in resisting the dervish attack, knowing that the relief expedition was now certain to reach them. gordon, of course, had done his utmost to hold the town: he had announced that an english army was coming; he had made a paper currency; had distributed decorations and honours almost daily, in order to keep up the hearts of the garrison; and, as the position had become more desperate, he had made almost superhuman efforts to induce the troops to hold out; but despair had taken possession of them. what was the use of all these decorations now; what good were all their ranks and honours? and as for the paper money, perhaps there were one or two still hopeful people who would buy a pound note for a couple of piastres,[ ] on the chance that, by some stroke of luck, the government might yet be victorious; but gradually even these slender hopes disappeared. gordon's promises were no longer credited; if but one steamer with a few english officers had reached the town, to bring the news that they had won a victory, and had reached the nile, the troops and inhabitants would have doubted no longer, and they would have been convinced that gordon's words were true. an english officer would at once have noticed that part of the lines which had been damaged by the overflow of the white nile, and could have ordered its repair. but what could gordon do single-handed, and without the assistance of any european officers; it was impossible for him to look to everything, nor had he the means of seeing that his orders were carried out to his satisfaction. how was it possible for a commander who could not give his troops food, to expect these starving men to carry out with precision and energy the instructions he issued? on the unfortunate night of the th of january, gordon was told that the mahdists had decided to make an attack; and he had issued his orders accordingly. perhaps he himself doubted if they would attack so early in the morning. at the time the mahdi was crossing the river, gordon, to stimulate his followers, had made a display of fireworks in the town; various coloured rockets were fired, and the band played, with the object of reviving the flagging spirits of the famished garrison. the display was over, the music had ceased, and khartum was asleep, whilst the enemy crept cautiously and silently forward to the attack. they knew all the weak and strong points of the lines of defence; they knew also that the regulars were stationed at the strong points, and that the broken-down parapet and tumbled-in ditch near the white nile were weakly defended by the feeble inhabitants. this particular part of the lines was sadly out of repair; it had never been actually completed, and, when damaged by the water, no steps had been taken to re-make it. every day the nile became lower, and every day exposed a broader strip of undefended wet mud, which the hungry and hopeless people merely made a show of defending. it was opposite to this open space that, at early dawn, the bulk of the attacking force had collected, whilst the other portion of the mahdist army faced the main position. at a given signal, the attack began. those holding the white nile flank, after firing a few shots, fled precipitately; and, while the troops were occupied in repelling the storming parties in their immediate front, thousands and thousands of wild arabs, dashing through the mud and water which was only up to their knees, poured into the town, and, to their dismay, the defenders on the lines found themselves attacked from the rear. very slight resistance was made, and most of the troops laid down their arms. numbers of the egyptians were massacred; but, of the blacks, few were killed, whilst the enemy's losses within the lines did not exceed eighty to one hundred men. soon afterwards, the gates were opened by the dervishes, and the troops were permitted to march out to the mahdist camp. once the line of the white nile was crossed, the great mass of the enemy rushed towards the town. "lil saraya! lil kenisa!" (to the palace! to the church!) was the cry; for it was here they expected to find the treasure and gordon, who had so long defended the city against them, and had up to that day defied all their efforts. amongst the leaders in the attack on the palace were the followers of makin wad en nur, who was afterwards killed at the battle of toski, and belonged to the arakin tribe; makin's brother abdalla wad en nur, their beloved leader, had been killed during the siege, and they were now seeking to avenge his death. many of abu girga's men were also forward in the rush to the palace; they wanted to wipe out the defeat they had suffered when gordon had driven them out of burri. the palace servants who lived in the basement were instantly massacred; and gordon himself, standing on the top of the steps leading to the divan, awaited the approach of the arabs. taking no notice of his question, "where is your master the mahdi?" the first man up the steps plunged his huge spear into his body; he fell forward on his face, without uttering a word. his murderers dragged him down the steps to the palace entrance; and here his head was cut off, and at once sent over to the mahdi at omdurman, whilst his body was left to the mercy of those wild fanatics. thousands of these inhuman creatures pressed forward merely to stain their swords and spears with his blood; and soon all that remained was a heap of mangled flesh. for a long time, stains of blood marked the spot where this atrocity took place; and the steps, from top to bottom, for weeks bore the same sad traces, until they were at last washed off when the khalifa decided to make the palace an abode for his former and his future wives. when gordon's head was brought to the mahdi, he remarked he would have been better pleased had they taken him alive; for it was his intention to convert him, and then hand him over to the english government in exchange for ahmed arabi pasha, as he had hoped that the latter would have been of assistance to him in helping him to conquer egypt. my own opinion, however, is that this regret on the part of the mahdi was merely assumed; for had he expressed any wish that gordon's life should be spared, no one would have dared to disobey his orders. gordon had done his utmost to save the lives of the europeans who were with him. colonel stewart, with some of the consuls and many of the europeans, he had allowed to go to dongola; but unfortunately the incapable and disaffected crew of their steamer, the "abbas," had run her on to a rock in the cataracts, and had thus given up him and his companions to the treacherous death which had been prepared for them. on the pretext that the greeks were good men on boats, gordon had offered them a steamer, on which it was arranged they should make a visit of inspection on the white nile, thus intending to give them an opportunity to escape south to join emin pasha; but they had refused to accept. being much concerned as to their safety, gordon now made another proposal: he ordered all roads leading towards the blue nile to be placed out of bounds after ten o'clock at night; and he charged the greeks with watching them, so that they might have a chance of escaping to a steamer moored close by, in which it was arranged they should escape; but, owing to a disagreement between themselves as to the details of the plan, it fell through. i have little doubt in my own mind that these greeks did not really wish to leave the town. in their own homes and in egypt most of them had been very poor, and had held merely subordinate positions; but here in the sudan many had made their fortunes, and were therefore by no means anxious to quit a country from which they had reaped so great advantages. gordon seemed anxious about the safety of every one but himself. why did he neglect to make a redoubt, or keep within the fortifications, the central point of which might well have been the palace? from a military point of view i think this is a fair criticism; but probably gordon did not do so, lest he should be suspected of being concerned for his own safety; and it was probably a similar idea which influenced him in his decision not to have a strong guard at the palace. he might well have employed a company of soldiers for this purpose; and who would have thought of questioning the advantage of protecting himself? with a guard of this strength, he could easily have reached the steamer "ismaïlia," which was lying close to the palace, scarcely three hundred yards from the gate. fagarli, the captain, saw the enemy rushing to the palace. in vain he waited for gordon; and it was only when the latter was killed, and he saw the dervishes making for his boat, that he steamed off into mid-stream, and moved backwards and forwards along the front of the town until he received a message from the mahdi offering him pardon. as his wife and family and some of his crew were in the city, he accepted the offer and landed; but how sadly had he been deluded. rushing to his home, he found his son--a boy of ten years old--lying dead on the doorstep, whilst his wife, in her agony, had thrown herself on her child's body, and lay pierced with several lances. the cruelties and atrocities perpetrated in the terrible massacre which followed gordon's death are beyond description. male and female slaves, and young, good-looking women of the free tribes, alone were spared; and if some others succeeded in escaping, they had only to thank a lucky chance which saved them from the merciless bloodshed of that awful day. not a few resolved to put an end to their own lives; amongst these was mohammed pasha hussein, the head of the finance, who, standing beside the dead bodies of his only daughter and her husband, was urged by some friends to fly with them, and let them save him; but he refused. they tried to take him by force; but, in a loud voice, he heaped curses on the mahdi and his followers, and some fanatics passing by soon despatched him. several people were killed by their former servants and slaves, who, having previously joined the enemy, now acted as guides to the wild hordes thirsting for blood, plunder, and rapine. fathalla gehami, a wealthy syrian (whose wife was the daughter of the wholesale french dealer contarini, and to whom, on her father's death some years ago, i had given a lodging with her little child in my house), had buried all his money in a corner of his house, with the assistance of his servant, a dongola boy whom he had brought up from quite a child. none but he, his wife lisa, and his boy knew the secret hiding-place; and when the situation became so serious in the town, he called up the lad and, in his wife's presence, said to him, "mohammed, i have taken care of you since you were quite a child, and i trust you; you know where the money is hidden. our condition is gradually growing worse. you have relatives with the mahdi; you can go to them, and if the government is victorious you can return to me without fear of punishment. but should the mahdi conquer, then you can repay me for my kindness to you." obedient to his master's wishes, the boy left the town, and, on the morning of the attack, he, with some of his relatives, rushed to his employer's house. "open, open!" he shouted at the top of his voice; "i am your child, your servant mohammed." fathalla gehami joyfully opened the great iron gate which had been so strengthened and barred that it defied entry; and in an instant his faithless servant had plunged his spear into his body. dashing with his friends over his master's prostrate form, he made for the hiding-place of the money, and instantly seized it; on his way out of the house, he rushed at fathalla's wife, who had seen the whole proceedings of this ungrateful young bloodhound, and would have killed her too, but she threw herself on the body of her husband, who was in his death-agony; and mohammed's friends with difficulty drew him off before he had time to plunge his knife into the poor woman who had been his kind protectress for so many years. the greek consul leontides was called out of his house by a crowd of fanatics who had been worked up into a state of excitement by a man who owed him money; and, on his appearance, he was instantly killed. consul hansal was murdered by one of his own kavasses, who afterwards tied his hands together, dragged the body out of the house, poured spirits over it, heaped on it all the tobacco he could find, set it on fire, and, when it was reduced to cinders, threw the remains into the river. butros bulos, a clerk in the finance office, was perhaps the only man who came well out of that awful day. he lived in a detached house, and had collected round him his relatives; for some time they defended themselves most successfully against all comers, and killed a number of them. when summoned at last to surrender, he said he would only do so if he were promised the mahdi's pardon, and a guarantee that he should not be separated from his family; as it was impossible to turn him out without bringing up guns to bombard the house, khalifa sherif gave him the pardon he required, which, curiously enough, was subsequently ratified by the mahdi. the shaigia post on tuti island surrendered after khartum had fallen; and the garrison were brought across to omdurman in boats. one could fill a volume with the details of the terrible atrocities committed on that memorable day; yet i doubt if the fate of the survivors was very much better. when all the houses were occupied, the search for treasure began, and no excuse or denial was accepted; whoever was suspected of having concealed money (and the majority of the inhabitants had done so) was tortured until the secret was disclosed, or until he succeeded in convincing his tormentors that he had nothing. there was no sparing of the lash; the unfortunate people were flogged until their flesh hung down in shreds from their bodies. another torture was to tie men up by their thumbs to a beam, and leave them dangling in the air till they became unconscious; or two small pliant slips of bamboo were tied horizontally to their temples, and the two ends, before and behind, being joined together and twisted as tightly as possible, were struck with vibrating sticks which produced agony inexpressible. even women of an advanced age were tormented in this way; and the most sensitive parts of their bodies were subjected to a species of torture which it is impossible for me to describe here. suffice it to say that the most appalling methods were resorted to in order to discover hidden treasure. young women and girls only were exempted from these abominable tortures, for no other reason than that such atrocities might interfere in some manner with the object for which they had been reserved. all such were put aside for the harem of the mahdi, who, on the actual day of the conquest, made his selections, and turned over the rejected ones to his khalifas and principal emirs. this picking and choosing continued for weeks together, until the households of these libidinous and inhuman scoundrels were stocked to overflowing with all the unfortunate youth and beauty of the fallen city. the next day, a general amnesty was given to all, with the exception of the shaigia, who were still considered outlaws; but, in spite of this, murders and atrocities continued for many days subsequent to the fall of khartum. the emir abu girga made every effort to discover the hiding-place of the sons of saleh wad el mek; but for three days he was unsuccessful. they were at last found, brought before him, and instantly beheaded. it behoved also all egyptians to look to themselves during these days of massacre; for, if met alone by these fanatics, they were mercilessly slaughtered. a merchant was making inquiries one day about the bazaar prices in omdurman, and asked what were at present the cheapest articles and the greatest drug in the market; the man questioned, being evidently a wag, answered: "the yellow-skinned egyptian, the shaigia, and the dog," which, being considered an impure animal, was always killed when found. this saying obtained great notoriety amongst the dervishes, and gives a very fair idea of the estimation in which they held the former ruling class. the plunder taken in khartum was carried off to the beit el mal; but of course large quantities were made away with. the principal houses were distributed amongst the emirs; and, on the day after the town fell, the mahdi and khalifa abdullahi crossed over from omdurman in the steamer "ismaïlia" to view the scene of their bloody victory and massacre; without a sign of pity or regret, they occupied the houses selected for them, and, addressing their followers, described the disaster which had overtaken khartum as the just judgment of heaven on the godless inhabitants of the city, who had repeatedly rejected the mahdi's summons to them to surrender and become his faithful followers in the true religion. the first few days were spent in the wildest debauchery and excesses; and it was not until the mahdi and his followers had to some extent satiated their vicious passions, that they turned their attention to the dangers which threatened them from without. to oppose the english expedition, the renowned emir abderrahman wad nejumi was ordered to collect a large force and proceed forthwith to metemmeh, to drive out the infidels, who were known to have reached the nile near this town. on wednesday morning, two days after khartum had fallen, at about eleven o'clock, the thunder of guns and the sharp crack of rifles were heard in the direction of the north end of tuti island; and soon two steamers came in view,--these were the "telahawia" and "bordein," carrying sir charles wilson and some english officers and men who had come up to assist general gordon. sanjak kashm el mus and abdel hamid mohammed, whom gordon had despatched in command of the shaigias, were also on board; they had already heard of gordon's death, and of the cruel fate which had overtaken the town and its inhabitants. although those on the steamer had little doubt of the accuracy of the sad news, they wished to see with their own eyes, and reached a point midway between tuti island and the left bank of the white nile; here they were heavily fired on by the dervishes from an entrenched position, situated northeast of omdurman fort, and having seen khartum in the distance, and been convinced, they turned about and steamed away. i subsequently heard from some of the crew of these steamers, that both they and the englishmen on board were deeply affected by the fall of the city; they now knew that the entire sudan was in the mahdi's hands. it was the talk on board, they said, that the english expedition had only come up to save gordon; and, now that he was killed, the object of the expedition had failed, and they naturally concluded that it would retire to dongola, and that they would be called upon to accompany it. consequently the chief pilot of the "telahawia" and the captain abdel hamid agreed together to run the steamer on to a rock, and then escape during the night. this plan was successfully carried out; and the steamer stuck so hard and fast that the cargo had to be at once transferred to the "bordein." during the confusion, these two conspirators escaped; and, through the intermediary of their friends, they succeeded in securing the mahdi's pardon, and returned subsequently to khartum. here they were well received and publicly commended by the mahdi for having inflicted loss on their enemies, the british; abdel hamid, in spite of being a hated shaigia, and a relative of saleh wad el mek, was presented by the mahdi with his own jibba, as a mark of honour, and, moreover, several of his female relatives who, after the sack of the town, had been distributed amongst the emirs, were given back to him. meanwhile, the "bordein," on its return journey towards metemmeh, struck on a sand-bank, and, being heavily laden, could not be floated off. sir charles wilson's position was now very critical; with his small force he could not have attempted to land on the west bank and attack the enemy, which was entrenched at wad habeshi, between him and the british camp at gubat. it is true that the courage of this body of dervishes had been considerably shaken by the defeat at abu klea; but the fall of khartum, and the knowledge that wad en nejumi with a large force was advancing north to their support, now transformed them into a formidable enemy. a third steamer, the "safia," was still at gubat. sir charles wilson therefore sent an officer down stream in a small boat to ask for help; the appeal was promptly responded to, the "safia" starting, without delay, to the relief of the "bordein." the enemy hearing of this, at once threw up entrenchments to oppose its progress, and, on its approach, poured on the unfortunate steamer a perfect hail of rifle and cannon shot; but those on board, determined to relieve their comrades in distress, fought most bravely until a shot, penetrating the boiler, disabled the steamer and placed it in the greatest danger. undismayed, however, the commander set to work, under a heavy fire, to repair the damage; the work was continued during the night, and early the next morning the "safia" was able to continue her running fight with the dervishes, eventually succeeding in silencing the guns, and killing the principal emir, ahmed wad faid, and a considerable number of subordinate emirs and men. the passage was forced; and sir charles wilson and his men relieved. this daring exploit, which resulted in the rescue of the little band of englishmen who had ventured to khartum, also had a very important, though indirect, effect on the subsequent fate of the small british column near metemmeh. the advance of nejumi, which, under any circumstances, was not rapid, owing to the difficulty of collecting the men, was still further delayed by the news of the death of ahmed wad faid, and the defeat of the strong body of dervishes at wad habeshi by one steamer. i was informed that on hearing of the success of the "safia" (whose able commander i learnt on my return to egypt was lord charles beresford), nejumi addressed his men, and pointed out to them, that if the english advanced with the intention of taking the sudan, they must of course oppose them; but if, on the other hand, they retired towards dongola, then he and his men would be able to occupy the country they had abandoned without the risk of further fighting. and it was this latter course which he eventually took. delaying his advance, he reached metemmeh only after the british had retired from gubat; and, although he pursued them as far as abu klea, he hesitated somewhat to attack unless quite assured of success. it was only when the mahdi learnt of the final retirement of the british advanced guard that he was convinced the sudan had at last been completely won; and now his delight knew no bounds. he announced the news in the mosque and drew a striking picture of the flight of the unbelievers, embellishing it further by a revelation from the prophet to the effect that their water-skins had all been pierced, through divine intervention, and that all those who had taken part in the expedition had died of thirst. on the fifth day after the fall of khartum, a small band of soldiers suddenly appeared in my tattered tent; and, placing me, still shackled and bound, on a donkey, they carried me off to the general prison, where they hammered on to my ankles a third and exceptionally heavy iron bar and rings (nicknamed the hajji fatma); it weighed about eighteen pounds, and was only put on those who were considered exceptionally obstinate or dangerous prisoners. i was quite ignorant of the reasons which caused me to fall still lower in the khalifa's disfavour; but i found out later that gordon, when he had ascertained from my letters to him that the mahdist force advancing on khartum was not a strong one, that many of the mahdi's adherents were discontented, and that there was considerable scarcity of ammunition, had written to this effect to several of the principal officers on the lines; one of his letters containing this information was discovered in the loot handed over to ahmed wad suleiman in the beit el mal, by whom it had been passed to the mahdi and khalifa. thus were their suspicions regarding my behaviour confirmed, and my schemes to escape and join gordon laid bare. i was deposited in one corner of the immense zariba, where i was ordered to stay, and to hold no converse with any one without permission, on pain of instant flogging. at sunset, i, a number of slaves who were under sentence for having murdered their masters, and other gentlemen of this description were bound together by a long chain passing round our feet and fastened to the trunk of a tree; and at sunrise the next morning, we were unfastened, and i was sent back to my corner again. i could just see lupton, in the distance, in another corner of the enclosure. he had been in here for some time, and had become used to it; he had permission to speak to others, but was under strict orders of the saier, or gaoler, not, on any account, to speak to me. on the day that i had been brought to the prison, saleh wad el mek had been discharged; his brother, sons, and almost all his relatives had been killed, and he was now allowed to go and search for the survivors. as regards food, i now fared considerably worse; i had, in this respect, fallen out of the frying pan into the fire. i used to complain of being occasionally hungry; but now i received only uncooked dhurra, getting the same share as the slaves, and a very small share it was. fortunately, the wife of one of my warders, a darfur woman, took pity upon me, and used to take the corn away, boil it, and bring it back to me; but she was not allowed to bring me any other food, as her husband feared the principal gaoler might find out, and he, in his turn, was afraid of incurring the khalifa's displeasure. i lay on the bare ground, with a stone for my pillow, the hardness of which gave me a continual headache; but, one day whilst we were being driven to the river--one hundred and fifty yards distant--to wash, i picked up the lining of a donkey saddle, which the owner had evidently thrown away as old and useless; and, hiding it under my arm, i bore it off in triumph, and that night i slept like a king on his pillow of down. gradually, my position improved somewhat. the principal gaoler, who was not really disinclined towards me, allowed me to converse occasionally with the other prisoners, and removed my lightest foot-irons; but the hajji fatma and her sister still remained, and i cannot say this pair of worthies conduced much to my personal comfort during those long and weary months of imprisonment. one day, a black woman came in with her child--a nice little girl--to visit her poor husband and the child's father, lupton. the poor little thing wept bitterly, for, young as she was, she was old enough to understand the miserable plight of her father, who, before they left, sent them to say a few words to me. the poor woman looked at me for a few moments, and then, taking my hand, wept aloud. i remembered i had often seen her before; and, between her sobs, she reminded me that she had come to khartum as a young girl, and had been brought up in frederick rosset's house, where, during my first journey to the sudan, i had stayed for some weeks. poor zenoba! she reminded me of many little incidents which had happened in the old days; and, as she related them, she often broke down, comparing her former happiness with her present misery. i tried to console her, urging her to keep up hope, and that perhaps everything would end well. "besides," i said, "it was never intended that human beings should always live well and comfortably." little fatma, whom we called fanny, flung herself into my arms, calling me, ammi (my uncle); and it seemed as if her heart told her instinctively that, amongst all this crowd, i was next to her father in her affections. i then begged the poor woman to leave me, as i feared taking advantage of the gaoler's patience. at this time, there was some difficulty in supplying food to the black soldiers under abu anga, whose number had been further increased by the khartum garrison. as there was no immediate fear of any movement on the part of the government towards khartum, it was decided to despatch abu anga to southern kordofan on a punitive expedition against the nubas, and to procure slaves and send them to omdurman. shortly after the fall of khartum, the mahdi had moved his camp north; and the fort known as tabia ragheb bey, and the ground in the vicinity, had been told off for abu anga's camp. when he was ordered off, and his place taken by his brother, fadl el maula, all my servants, male and female, left with him; and, although the latter were not permitted to visit me, i felt that, with abu anga's departure, yet another link was severed. i now received news of the other servants i had left behind at el fasher. on my arrival at rahad, i had told the khalifa i had left behind two horses, which were almost the best in darfur, and which i hinted he might have if he wished; but, it being summer, and as they would probably have suffered from the long and hot journey, i had not brought them with me. subsequently, i had requested him to give orders that not only the horses, but also my male and female servants who had been left behind, should also be sent on. he consequently had written to mohammed khaled to this effect; but, on the day on which i had been made a prisoner, he had written to sayed mahmud of el obeid to seize my people as soon as they came from darfur, but to send on the two horses. the latter had now arrived in omdurman; and the soldier who had been in charge came to tell me that the khalifa was much pleased with them, having taken one for himself and given the other to his brother yakub. a few days later, there was considerable commotion amongst the warders; and the saier told me privately that the khalifa was coming to visit the prison. i asked him to advise me how i should behave; and he recommended me to answer all questions promptly, on no account to make any complaints, and to remain submissively in my corner. about midday, the khalifa arrived, accompanied by his brothers and mulazemin, and began to walk round and view these victims of his justice. it seemed that the saier had given the same advice to all the prisoners that he had given to me, for they all behaved quietly; some were ordered to have their chains removed, and to be discharged. at length, the khalifa approached my corner, and, with a friendly nod, said, "abdel kader, enta tayeb?" (abdel kader, are you well?). to which i replied, "ana tayeb, sidi" (i am well, sire); and with that he moved on. yunes wad dekeim, the present emir of dongola, and a near relative of the khalifa, pressed my hand, and whispered, "keep up your spirits; don't be downhearted; everything will come right." from that day my condition distinctly improved. zenoba, the mother of fanny, was allowed every now and then to send me a little food. i was also allowed to spend the day with a former head-sheikh of the hawara arabs, who was suspected of having been friendly with the turks, and had been thrown into chains; as our hatred for the mahdists was mutual, we spent most of our time in talking about them, and criticising their rules and ordinances. sheikh mohammed wad et taka, for such was his name, was fed by his elderly wife, who, for his sake, had remained in omdurman, and used to bring us meals. she may have had some good qualities, but she was a veritable xantippe who by her sharp tongue made bitter every mouthful her husband swallowed. carrying a large dish of baked dhurra-bread and some mulakh (a sort of sauce made with milk and other ingredients), she would place it before us, and then, sitting on the ground beside us, she would begin the battle. "yes, indeed," she would say, "old women are quite good enough to cook, and do all the hard work; but when men have their freedom, they can do as they like; and then they always turn their eyes to the young and pretty girls." the sheikh had the fortune, or rather the temporary misfortune, of having two young wives as well as this old one; but they stayed in the country with the herds; and this fact greatly annoyed the old lady, who exercised her ingenuity in making these sallies against her good man, who, famished by hunger, silently consumed the food she had prepared for him. she frequently related some piquant family details in which her husband's conduct in relation to herself, as compared with his more youthful helpmeets, was invariably open to severe criticism. i used to greatly enjoy these skirmishes, and generally took upon myself the task of mediator, telling her that when she was away, her husband had nothing but good words for her. this used to appease her; and she would affirm that she was doing her utmost to alleviate our condition. i thoroughly appreciated how valuable she was to me, and how her homely meals lessened my long hours of enforced fasting. all my efforts were therefore directed to pacifying her husband, who, goaded by her sharp tongue, would heap curses on her devoted head. his nature was very changeable: when he was hungry, and saw his old wife coming along carrying his food, no words of praise were sufficient for her; but once satisfied, and stung to the quick by her sarcasm, he would heap insults on her, and some such expressions as, "you who neither fear god nor man, leave me, and let me starve. some women, as they grow old, instead of becoming more intelligent, gradually get silly; this is the case with you, i think you are possessed of the devil. get away, and never come near me again; i never want to see you more." then off she would go; but the next day, when he was famished, he would long to have his old wife back again. not the least alarmed, she would almost invariably return with her dish full of food; he would be pacified, eat a hearty meal, and then the insults would begin again. thus the days slowly passed away. small-pox had broken out in omdurman, and every day the disease swept off hundreds,--indeed, whole families disappeared; and i believe that the loss from this disease was greater than that suffered in many battles. curiously enough, almost all the nomad arabs were attacked; and several of our own warders went down, and not a few of them died. we prisoners, however, entirely escaped; and, during the whole period of my imprisonment, i do not recollect having seen one of us unfortunates attacked, though most of us were much alarmed. perhaps god in his mercy thought our punishment already more than we could bear, and spared us a further visitation. i had now many opportunities of talking to lupton, who daily grew more and more impatient; indeed, so furious was he at times, that i used to get alarmed, for he would complain most bitterly, and in a loud tone, of our miserable treatment. i did all in my power to pacify him; but the wretched life we were living had affected him to such a degree that i seriously feared for his health. through constantly speaking to him, i succeeded to some extent in quieting him; but, although scarcely thirty years of age, the hair of his head and beard had, during our imprisonment, grown almost white. nature, however, had treated me more kindly. i submitted to my fate with a better grace; and the thoroughly practical lesson i had received from my old friend madibbo, entirely suited my character. i was still young; and, except for occasional slight ailments, i was endowed with a strong and healthy constitution. my fate was a cruel one it is true; but i felt i could gather from it many a useful experience. i kept on hoping against hope, that, sooner or later, i should return to the civilised world, though, when i thought over my chances of escape, the time seemed very far away. in order to occupy the prisoners, the saier employed them in building a square house for their own habitation; they were therefore ordered to fetch stones which were found near the river; and lupton and i were the only prisoners who were permitted to pass the day without work. every now and then, however, we used to accompany them to the place where they got the stones; but my heavy ankle-irons, and my long neck-chain, impeded my progress so much when walking, that i preferred to act as the architect of the building, which now rapidly advanced towards completion. the walls were very thick, and about thirty feet square, and, in the centre, a pillar was erected which served as a support to the crossbeams. this house was intended for the incarceration of the most dangerous prisoners; and the wood required for the roofing was brought from the now ruined houses of khartum. it was about this time that an old friend of mine named esh sheikh, a relative of ismail wad shaggar el kheiri, and who was in the mahdi's favour, informed me confidentially that both the mahdi and the khalifa were friendly-minded towards myself and lupton, and that in a few days we should probably be liberated. he added that should the khalifa speak to me, i should not humble myself very much, but merely be careful not to oppose anything he said; then, recommending me to god, he went away. i instantly went off to share this good news with lupton, who at that time happened to be in one of his most dangerous moods; but i begged him to believe that it was true, and to do nothing which might compromise matters. a few days later, it was rumoured that the khalifa was coming. i had carefully prepared my speech, and lupton had done the same; but it was more than likely he would speak to me first. at length the critical moment came: the khalifa, entering the prisoners' yard, instead of, as was his usual custom, sending for the prisoners one by one, ordered an angareb to be brought and placed in the shade; he then directed all the prisoners to be led out, and to sit down before him in a semi-circle. he spoke to several, set a few free who had been imprisoned by his own personal orders, and promised others, who complained against the sentences pronounced by the kadi, to inquire into their cases; of lupton and myself, however, he appeared to have taken no notice. lupton glanced at me, and shook his head; but i put my finger to my lips to warn him against doing anything foolish. "have i anything else to do?" asked the khalifa of the saier who was standing behind his angareb. "sire! i am at your service," replied the head gaoler; and the khalifa sat down again. he now turned his eyes on me, and repeated the same words he had used on the previous occasion. "abdel kader," said he, "are you well?" "sire," said i, "if you will allow me to speak, i shall tell you of my condition." he was then sitting at his ease, and he gave me the required permission. "master," i began, "i belong to a foreign tribe; i came to you seeking protection, and you gave it to me. it is natural for man to err, and to sin against god and against each other. i have sinned; but i now repent, and regret all my misdeeds. i repent before god and his prophet. behold me in irons before you! see! i am naked and hungry; and i lie here patiently on the bare ground waiting for the time to come when i may receive pardon. master, should you think it well to let me continue in this sad plight, then i pray god for strength to enable me to bear his will; but now i beg of you to give me my freedom." i had studied this speech very carefully, and had delivered it as effectively as i could; and i saw that it had made a favourable impression on the khalifa. turning then to lupton, he said, "and you, abdullahi?" "i can add nothing to what abdel kader has said," replied lupton. "pardon me, and grant me liberty." the khalifa now turned to me, and said, "well, from the day you came from darfur, i have done everything i possibly could for you; but your heart has been far from us: you wanted to join gordon the infidel, and fight against us. as you are a foreigner, i spared your life; otherwise you would not be alive now. however, if your repentance is real and true, i will pardon both you and abdullahi. saier, take off their irons." we were then removed by the warders, who, after long and hard work, and by making use of ropes, at last succeeded in opening my foot-irons. we were then again brought before the khalifa, who was patiently sitting on his angareb waiting for us. he ordered the saier to bring the kuran, which he laid on a furwa (sheepskin), and called on us to swear eternal allegiance to him. placing our hands on the kuran, we swore to serve him honestly in the future. he then rose and directed us to follow him; and we, almost beside ourselves with delight at our release after this long imprisonment, joyfully followed in his footsteps. my friend the sheikh of the hawara was also liberated at the same time. the khalifa, having been assisted on to his donkey by his servants, ordered us to walk by his side; but we could scarcely keep up with him, for our eight months' imprisonment in chains had so cramped our legs and feet that we found we had lost the habit of stepping out. when we reached his house, he directed us to wait in a rekuba in one of the outside enclosures, and left us. he returned again a few minutes later, and, seating himself beside us, warned us most seriously to adhere to all his orders. he then went on to say that he had received letters from the commander of the army in egypt, stating that he had seized and imprisoned all the mahdi's relatives in dongola, and that he demanded in exchange all the captives who had formerly been christians. "we have decided to reply," said he, "that you are now all mohammedans, that you are one with us, and that you are not willing to be exchanged for people who, though the relatives of the mahdi, are far from us in thought and deed; and that they can do as they like with their captives; or," added he, "perhaps you would like to go back to the christians?" with these words he ended his speech. lupton and i assured him that we should never leave him of our own free-will; that all the pleasures of the world would never tear us from his side; and that it was only by being constantly in his presence that we learnt to act in such a way as would lead to our salvation. thoroughly taken in by our mendacity, he promised to present us to the mahdi, who had arranged to come to the khalifa's house that afternoon, and then he left us. the rekuba being in one of the outer enclosures, into which people were admitted, several friends who had heard of our release came to congratulate us, amongst them dimitri zigada, but this time without his usual quid of tobacco. my friend esh sheikh also came; and when i told him that we were to be presented to the mahdi, he again gave me the benefit of his good advice, and instructed me how to behave when the momentous occasion arrived. it was almost evening when the khalifa came; and, directing us to follow him, he led us to an inner enclosure, where we saw the mahdi sitting on an angareb. he had become so stout that i scarcely knew him. kneeling down, we repeatedly kissed the hand he held out to us. he now assured us that his only wish was for our good, that when men are placed in chains, it exercises a lasting and beneficial influence on them; by this he meant to say that when a man is timid, this punishment makes him avoid committing offences in the future. he then turned the conversation to his relatives who had been captured by the british, and about the exchange they had proposed, but which he had refused, adding, with a hypocritical smile, "i love you better than my own brethren; and therefore i refused to exchange." in reply, i assured him of our love and sincerity to him, saying, "sire, the man who does not love you more than himself, how can his love proceed truly from his heart." (this was a paraphrase of the prophet's own words which my friend the sheikh had suggested i should repeat.) "say that again," said the mahdi; and, turning to the khalifa, he said, "listen." when i repeated the words, he took my hand in his and said, "you have spoken the truth; love me more than yourself." summoning lupton as well, he took his hand, and made us repeat the oath of allegiance, saying, that as we had proved unfaithful to our first oath, it must be renewed. this over, the khalifa signed to us to retire; and, again kissing the mahdi's hand, we thanked him for his beneficence, and returned to our rekuba to await his further instructions. it was some time before the khalifa returned; and when he did, he permitted lupton, without further ado, to join his family, who were still located in a tent in the beit el mal, and, sending with him a mulazem to show the way, assured him that he would take every care of him. i was now alone with the khalifa. "and you," said he, "where do you wish to go; have you any one to take care of you?" and i felt him gazing at me, whilst i cast my eyes to the ground, knowing that was what he wished me to do. "besides god and yourself," i replied, "i have no one, sire; deal with me as you think best for my future." "i had hoped and expected this answer from you," said the khalifa; "from this day you may consider yourself a member of my household. i shall care for you, and shall never allow you to want for anything; and you will have the benefit of being brought up under my eye, on condition that, from this day forth, you absolutely sever your connection with all your former friends and acquaintances, and associate only with my relatives and servants; you must, moreover, obey implicitly every order you receive from me. during the day, your duty will be to stay with the mulazemin employed on my personal service at the door of my house; and at night, when i retire, you will be permitted to go to the house which i shall assign to you. when i go out, you must always accompany me: if i ride, you must walk beside me, until the time comes when, should i see fit, i will provide you with an animal to ride. do you agree to these conditions, and do you promise to put them into full effect?" "master," i replied, "i agree with pleasure to your conditions. in me, you will find a willing and obedient servant; and i hope i may have strength to enter upon my new duties." "god will strengthen you," he replied, "and bring you to all good." he then rose, and added, "sleep here to-night; may god protect you till i see you again to-morrow." i was now quite alone. so i had gone from one prison to another! i fully grasped the khalifa's intentions: he had no real wish for my services, for he had not the slightest confidence in me; nor did he wish to utilise me against the government and against the civilised world. he merely wanted to keep me always under control; probably it flattered his vanity to know he could point to me, his slave, once a high official of the government, who had commanded his own tribe, which was now the foundation on which his power rested, and show them and the other western tribes that i was now his humble servant. nevertheless, said i to myself, i shall take good care not to displease him, or give him a chance of putting his evil purposes into effect. i thoroughly understood my master; his smiles and friendly looks were not worth a jot, indeed one day he had told me as much himself. "abdel kader," he had said to me in the course of conversation, "a man who wants to command must neither betray his purpose by gesture, nor by his countenance; otherwise his enemies or his subjects will discover some means of frustrating his designs." the next morning, he came to me, and, summoning his brother yakub, he directed him to show me some spot in the neighbourhood where i might build my huts, adding that it must be as near his house as possible. as, however, most of the vacant spots in the vicinity had been already occupied by the khalifa's relatives, a piece of ground, about six hundred yards from the khalifa's house, and not far from yakub's residence, was given to me. the khalifa now summoned his secretary, and showed me a document addressed to the commander of the english army, to the effect, that all the european prisoners had, of their own free-will, become mohammedans, and that they had no wish to return to their countries. this document he desired me to sign. all my servants, horses, and baggage had been taken off by abu anga, with the exception of an old lame nubawi who, when he heard of my release, came to see me from fadl el maula's house. i at once informed the khalifa, and obtained permission to take this man back into my service. i also spoke to him about abu anga and my servants; and he asked if the effects were going to be returned to me,--a strange question indeed! when one's possessions have been seized by violence and carried off, are they likely to be given back? i replied much in the same style, that i was sure, that as now i belonged to his household, i could well do without these little trifles, and that i thought it quite unnecessary for him to write to his field-marshal about so trivial a matter. what was i to do with horses, when i was not allowed to ride them? had not my education with the khalifa begun by being forced to walk barefoot! all the same, i was really very anxious to have my old servants back again, though i did not actually require their services very much; but i knew, that had i attempted to claim them, i should only have aroused the khalifa's opposition. the latter was, therefore, greatly pleased with my reply, and began chatting to me about abu anga. he then asked me, abruptly, "are you not a mohammedan; where then did you leave your wives?" this was, indeed, an ugly question. "master," said i, "i have only one, and i left her in darfur; and i am told that she was arrested with all my other servants by said mahmud, and is now in the beit el mal at el obeid." "is your wife of your own race?" asked the khalifa, inquiringly. "no," i replied, "she is a darfurian; and her parents and relatives were killed in the battle with sultan harun. she and several others had been captured by my men; and i gave most of them to my servants and soldiers to marry. this orphan alone was left; and she is now my wife." "have you any children?" asked he; and, when i replied in the negative, he said, "a man without offspring is like a thorn-tree without fruit; as you now belong to my household, i shall give you some wives, so that you may live happily." i thanked him for his kindness, but begged that he would postpone his present until i had at least erected my huts; because, i remarked, this exceptional mark of his favour must not be exposed to the public gaze. to recompense me for my property which had been taken by abu anga, the khalifa instructed fadl el maula to hand over the effects of the unfortunate olivier pain, which were at once sent to me. they consisted of an old jibba, a well-worn arab cloak, and a kuran printed in the french language. fadl el maula had sent word to me that, during the time which had elapsed, his other effects had been lost. at the same time, the khalifa directed that the money which had been taken from me when i was imprisoned, and had been deposited in the beit el mal, should be returned to me. it amounted to £ , a few sequins, and a few gold nose-rings which i had collected as curios; all these were handed back to me by ahmed wad suleiman. i was now able to set to work to build my huts; but whilst they were being put up i lived in the khalifa's house. i entrusted my old servant saadalla, the nubawi, who was the most competent of all my attendants, with the construction of my residence, which was to consist for the present of three huts and a fence. i myself, from early morning till late at night, was always in attendance at the door of my master. whenever he went for a short walk or a long ride, i was always obliged to accompany him, barefooted. during the first few days, as my feet got cut and bruised, he allowed me to have some light arabic sandals made, which, though they gave me some protection against the stones, were so hard and rough that they rubbed off all the skin. occasionally, the khalifa used to call me in to eat with him, and frequently sent for what was over of his own food to be consumed by the principal mulazemin, of whom i was now reckoned as one. when he retired at night, i was at liberty to return to my huts; and there, stretching my weary limbs on an angareb, i slept till early dawn, when i was again obliged to await the khalifa at his door, and accompany him to morning prayers. meanwhile, the khalifa had been informed that my huts were erected, and, returning home late one night, my old servant saadalla informed me that a female slave, closely muffled up, had been brought to my house, and was now installed within. directing saadalla to light a lantern and show the way, i followed, and found the poor thing huddled up on a palm-mat. when i spoke to her about her past life, she answered, in a deep voice which did not presage well for the future, that she was a nubawi, and had formerly belonged to an arab tribe in southern kordofan, but had been captured, and sent to the beit el mal, from whence she had just been despatched to me by ahmed wad suleiman. whilst speaking, she removed her scented white drapery from her head, as slaves always do when talking to their masters, and exposed her bare shoulders and part of her bosom. i signed to saadalla to bring the light nearer; and then i had to summon all my presence of mind so as not to be terrified and fall off my angareb. out of her ugly black face, peered two little eyes; a great flat nose, below which were two enormous blubber-shaped lips which, when she laughed, were in danger of coming in contact with her ears, completed one of the most unpleasant physiognomies i had ever beheld. her head was joined to her enormously fat body by a bull-dog-like neck; and this creature had the audacity to call herself maryam (mary). i at once directed saadalla to remove his compatriot to another hut, and give her an angareb. so this was the khalifa's first gift to me: he had not given me a horse, a donkey, or even a little money, which would have been of some use to me, but had presented me with a female slave, for whom, even had she been fair, he knew well i should not have cared, as, let alone her disagreeable presence, her food and dress were items of expense which i by no means relished. when he saw me the next day, after morning prayers, he asked me if ahmed wad suleiman had satisfactorily carried out his wishes. i replied, "yes; your order was most promptly carried out," and then gave him an exact description of my new acquisition. the khalifa was furious with ahmed wad suleiman, who, he asserted, not only did not comply with his order, but had made him unfaithful to the mahdi's ordinances. my candour in describing exactly the class of slave given me, re-acted somewhat unpleasantly on my head; for, the following evening, a young and somewhat less ugly girl, selected by the khalifa himself, was sent to me, and her also i handed over to the tender mercies of the faithful saadalla. the mahdi, his khalifas, and their relatives, having now no longer any fear from external enemies, began to build houses suitable to their new positions and requirements. the numbers of young women and girls who had been seized and distributed on the fall of khartum were now hurried off into the seclusion of these new residences; and their masters, no longer disturbed by the jealous and envious looks of their friends, were able to enjoy their pleasures undisturbed. naturally, the mahdi, the khalifas, and, more especially, the relatives of the former were most anxious that it should not be known that the greater part of the loot taken in khartum was in their own hands; it was a striking contradiction of the doctrine of the divine master, who forever preached renunciation and abandonment of the pleasures of life. they set to work to enlarge their habitations and enclosures, anticipating that they would fill them still further with the rich spoil which was expected from the provinces that still remained to be conquered. but the mahdi fell suddenly ill; for a few days he did not appear at the mosque for prayers. no particular attention, however, was paid to his absence at first, for he had asserted, over and over again, that the prophet had revealed to him that he should conquer mecca, medina, and jerusalem, and, after a long and glorious life, should expire at kufa. but the mahdi was attacked by no ordinary indisposition: the fatal typhus fever had fallen upon him; and, six days after he had sickened, his relatives in attendance began to despair of saving his life. my master, the khalifa, was, of course, watching with the most intense interest the outcome of the disease, and did not leave the mahdi's bedside day or night, whilst i and the other members of the body-guard aimlessly waited for our master at his door. on the evening of the sixth day, the multitudes collected before the mahdi's house, and in the mosque, were commanded to join together in prayer for the recovery of the divine patient, who was now in the greatest danger; and this was the first occasion on which the malignant disease from which the mahdi was suffering was announced to the public. on the morning of the seventh day, he was reported to be worse; and there was now little doubt that he was dying. in the early stages, he had been treated by his wives and by sudanese quacks with the usual domestic remedies; and it was only at the last moment that hassan zeki, one of the detested egyptians, formerly medical officer of the khartum hospital, who, by a lucky chance, had been saved on the day of the attack, was called in. asked to prescribe, he affirmed that the complaint had now reached such a stage that it was not advisable to use any medicines, and that the only hope lay in the resistance of his powerful constitution, which, with god's help, might drive out this terribly malignant disease. hassan zeki, indisposed as he was to render any assistance, was perfectly well aware that the mahdi was now beyond the reach of medicines; he also knew that if he had prescribed, and the mahdi had subsequently died, he would undoubtedly have been credited with the cause of his death, and his life would have been in the greatest danger. from all these considerations, he therefore wisely refrained from interference. the disease had now reached its crisis. by the mahdi's angareb stood the three khalifas, his near relations, ahmed wad suleiman, mohammed wad beshir (one of the principal employés of the beit el mal in charge of the mahdi's household), osman wad ahmed, said el mekki (formerly one of the most renowned religious sheikhs of kordofan), and a few of his principal and most faithful adherents, to whom special permission had been granted to enter the sick-room. from time to time, he lost consciousness; and, feeling that his end was drawing near, he said, in a low voice, to those around him, "khalifa abdullahi khalifat es sadik has been appointed by the prophet as my successor. he is of me and i am of him; as you have obeyed me and have carried out my orders, so should you deal with him. may god have mercy upon me!" then gathering up all his strength, with one final effort, he repeated a few times the mohammedan creed (la illaha illallah, mohammed rasul allah), crossed his hands over his chest, stretched out his limbs, and passed away. around the body, which was not yet cold, the late mahdi's adherents swore fidelity to khalifa abdullahi, said el mekki being the first to take the khalifa's hand, own his allegiance, and praise his name. his example was immediately followed by the two khalifas and the remainder of those assembled. it was impossible to keep the mahdi's death secret; and the crowds waiting outside were informed about it: but, at the same time, strict injunctions were given that no weeping and lamentation should be made; and it was further announced that the khalifa (successor) of the mahdi should demand the oath of allegiance from the entire populace. the mahdi's principal wife, named sittina aisha um el muminin (our lady aisha, mother of the believers), who lay huddled up and closely veiled in a corner, and who had been a witness of the death of her master and husband, now arose and proceeded to the mahdi's house, bearing to the other wives the sad news of his death. her office was to comfort them, and prevent them from making loud lamentation. most of these good women rejoiced secretly in their hearts at the death of their husband and master, who had brought such terrible distress upon the land, and whom, even before he had fully enjoyed the fruits of his success, almighty god had summoned to appear before the supreme seat of judgment. in spite of the strict and oft-repeated injunctions against loud lamentation, weeping and wailing arose from almost every house on the death of the mahdi el muntazer, who, it was reported, had voluntarily departed from his earthly abode to god, his master whom he longed to see. some of those now present began to wash the body, and then wrap it in several linen cloths; whilst others dug the grave in the room in which he had died, and which, after two hour's hard work, was finished. the three khalifas, together with ahmed wad suleiman and wad beshir, now placed the body in the grave, built it over with bricks, and then filled it up with earth, on which they poured water. this over, lifting up their hands, they recited the prayers for the dead; then, leaving the room, they proceeded to pacify the impatient crowd awaiting the news without. we mulazemin were the first to be summoned before the new ruler, who, henceforth, was called khalifat el mahdi (successor of the mahdi); and he gave us the oath of allegiance, directing us at the same time to move the mahdi's pulpit to the entrance door of the mosque, and to inform the populace that he was about to appear before them. informed that this had been completed, he left his late master's grave, and, for the first time, ascended the pulpit as ruler. he was in a state of intense excitement. great tears rolled down his cheeks as, with a trembling voice, he began to address the multitude. "friends of the mahdi," he shouted, "god's will cannot be changed. the mahdi has left us, and has entered into heaven, where everlasting joys await him. it is for us to obey his precepts, and to support one another, just as the stones and walls of a house go to make a building. the good things of this life are not lasting. seize, therefore, with both hands the good fortune which is yours, of having been the friends and adherents of the mahdi, and never deviate in the slightest degree from the path which he has shown you. you are the friends of the mahdi, and i am his khalifa. swear that you will be faithful to me." this short address over, all those present now repeated the well-known oath of allegiance; but the khalifa altered the first sentence of it as follows: "bayana allah wa rasulahu wa mahdina wa bayanaka ala tauhidillahi, etc." as only a certain number could take the oath of allegiance at one time, those who had finished made way for others; and the crowd was so enormous that many were in danger of being trodden to death. the ceremony went on till nightfall. the khalifa had now long since ceased weeping, and was rejoiced to see the crowds who thronged to him to swear him eternal allegiance. from continual talking, he had become quite exhausted; and, descending from the pulpit, he took a draught of water to moisten his parched throat. but the thought that he was now the assured ruler of the enormous masses before him seemed to keep him up; and it was only when darkness actually supervened that some of his principal men urged him to desist, and leave the pulpit. before doing so, however, he summoned all the emirs of the black flag, and called upon them to take a special oath of allegiance, admonishing them to adhere faithfully to him and to his brother yakub, and calling their attention to the fact that, being strangers and foreigners, they should endeavour to live in harmony with each other as long as they were in the valley of the nile, for they would require union in order to successfully oppose the intrigues of the local inhabitants; and once again he impressed upon them the all-important necessity of adhering most strictly to the doctrines of the mahdi. by this time it was past midnight; but it was out of the question to think of going home. utterly exhausted, i lay on the ground and heard the passers-by loud in their praises of the late mahdi, and assuring each other of their firm resolve to support his successor in carrying out their late master's precepts. now what had the mahdi done, and wherein lay his power to revive a religion which had become so debased? what was the nature of his teachings? he had preached renunciation; he had inveighed against earthly vanities and pleasures; he had broken down both social and official ranks; he had made rich and poor alike; he had selected as clothing a jibba, which became the universal dress of his adherents. as a regenerator of religion, he had united the four distinct moslem sects: the malaki, the shafai, the hanafi, and the hambali, which differ from each other only in minor details,--such as the method of performing ablution, the method of standing or kneeling down in prayers, the manner of conducting marriage ceremonies; and, by astutely making certain much needed reforms, he had succeeded in combining these four great divisions. he had made a collection of certain specially selected verses from the kuran, which he called the rateb, and which he enjoined should be recited by the entire congregation after morning and afternoon prayers,--a ceremony which lasted at least forty minutes. he had facilitated the method of performing prayer ablutions, and had strictly forbidden the drinking bouts which were an invariable accompaniment of marriage ceremonies in the sudan; he had reduced the amount of the "mahr" (the present usually given by the bridegroom to the bride) to ten dollars and two dresses for unmarried girls, and to five dollars and two dresses for widows. whoever sought for more or gave more was considered to have performed an act of disobedience, and was punished by deprivation of all property. a simple meal of dates and milk took the place of the costly marriage feast. by these innovations, the mahdi had sought to facilitate the ceremony of matrimony, and had strictly enjoined on parents and guardians to see that their daughters and wards were married early. at the same time, he had forbidden dancing and playing, which he classified as "earthly pleasures;" and those found disobeying this order were punished by flogging and confiscation of all property. the use of bad language was punished with eighty lashes for every insulting word used, and seven days' imprisonment. the use of intoxicating drinks, such as marissa or date wine, and smoking were most strictly prohibited. offences of this description were punishable by flogging, eight days' imprisonment, and confiscation of goods. a thief suffered the severance of his right hand; and should he be convicted of a second offence, he lost his left foot also. as it was the general custom amongst the male population of the sudan, and especially amongst the nomad arabs, to let their hair grow, the mahdi had directed that henceforth all heads should be shaved. wailing for the dead and feasts for the dead were punishable by deprivation of property. in order, however, that the strength of his army should not be decreased and endangered by desertion, owing to the severe mode of life he had prescribed, and fearful that his doctrines which were considered unorthodox should be made known in the various foreign countries by which he was surrounded, he practically made a cordon round the countries he had already conquered, and absolutely prohibited passage of persons through these districts for the purpose of performing a pilgrimage to mecca. should any one cast the slightest doubt on the divine nature of his mission, or should there be the slightest hesitation to comply with his orders, on the evidence of two witnesses, the delinquent was invariably punished by the loss of the right hand and left foot. on some occasions, witnesses were dispensed with,--a revelation from the prophet was even more efficacious in proving the guilt of the offender. as, however, most of these dispositions and ordinances were entirely at variance with the moslem law, he therefore issued most strict injunctions that the study of theology and all public commentaries thereon should cease, and ordered, moreover, that any books or manuscripts dealing with these subjects should be instantly burnt or thrown into the river. such were the teachings of the expected mahdi; and he had left no stone unturned to carry into the fullest effect the ordinances he had made. openly, he showed himself a most strict observer of his own teachings; but, within their houses, he, his khalifas, and their relatives entered into the wildest excesses, drunkenness, riotous living, and debauchery of every sort, and they satisfied to their fullest extent the vicious passions which are so prevalent amongst the sudanese. chapter xi. early rule of khalifa abdullahi. success of khaled's stratagem to entrap darho--execution of darho--sieges of sennar and kassala--fall of ahmed wad suleiman--the khalifa and the black troops--execution of the mudir of kassala--my journey to abu haraz--my plans of escape impracticable--the khalifa presents me with a wife--mutiny of black soldiers at el obeid--death of the emir mahmud--abu anga seizes khaled and throws him into chains--campaign in the nuba mountains--lupton in difficulties--he works in the khartum dockyard--revolt of the kababish--difficulties begin with abyssinia--death of klootz--organisation of the beit el mal--the khalifa's system of jurisdiction. from the date of the mahdi's departure from rahad, up to the time of his death, nothing of importance had happened in the various provinces of the sudan which could be calculated to change the course of events. mohammed khaled had settled in el fasher, and had despatched his emirs in various directions. instead of meeting with resistance, they were received everywhere with open arms by the deluded inhabitants, who vied with one another in their anxiety to become subjects of the mahdi. the western districts of dar gimr, massalit, and dar tama, as far as the frontier of wadai, all sent in their submission, and a number of valuable presents; saleh donkusa too, and his friends the bedeyat, also anxious not to expose themselves to new dangers, sent in a deputation conveying their salutations and gifts. mohammed khaled had also sent one of his friends, a merchant named hajji karar, from kobbé, with presents to sultan yusef, of wadai. on his arrival, sultan yusef had received him kindly, and had sent him back to khaled with a present of several horses and female slaves, and with the assurance that he might consider him an adherent of the mahdi, whose rules and ordinances he was at all times ready to obey. abdullahi dudbenga, on the other hand, sultan harun's successor in jebel marra, paid no heed to the summons calling him to el fasher; he had a personal quarrel with khaled, and had no desire to put himself within his reach. however, finally, when he received an ultimatum to either come at once, or to risk a war, he submitted and came in; but a few days later fled, fearing that he was about to be placed in chains, and his money and property confiscated. instead, however, of returning to the jebel marra, he proceeded to omdurman, where he was well received by khalifa abdullahi, who gave orders that his family and effects should be brought from darfur to omdurman. meanwhile, khaled, furious at his flight, had him pursued as far as the kordofan frontier, and ordered that all villages which gave refuge to the fugitive should become the property of the government, and that the village sheikhs should be shot. he also despatched omar wad darho with a considerable force to jebel marra, with instructions to announce to the inhabitants that, having hitherto failed to make their submission, or to give presents, they should in consequence be considered "ghanima" (booty). omar wad darho, anticipating quantities of loot, proceeded to his destination; whilst khaled thought the present occasion a fitting one to send some of his best horses and his fairest women to the mahdi and his khalifas. darho met with little resistance in jebel marra. the villagers fled to the hills; but, having procured good guides, he pursued them into the most inaccessible places, and succeeded in putting numbers of them to the sword. their women and children he divided up amongst his men, selecting and sending to khaled all the best. his men, however, unused to this continual hill marching, became exhausted, and his horses were, for the most part, without shoes; nevertheless he succeeded in collecting a quantity of loot, and returned to el fasher on the actual day that the terrible and unexpected news of the mahdi's death had arrived there. darho, anticipating important changes owing to this untoward event, did not hesitate to take advantage of the situation; and, proceeding forthwith to kobbé, he declared himself independent, stating he would no longer serve under khaled's orders; indeed, he made preparations to fight him, and make himself eventually ruler of darfur. he went so far as to propose to the emirs who had accompanied him to jebel marra, that he would divide amongst them the lands of darfur; but the latter, deeming darho's action ill-considered, argued that they were not likely to get more from him than they did from khaled. they therefore urged him to desist, declaring that in the event of his refusal, they would make full report of the circumstances to khaled. darho's party daily diminished in numbers; and it was not long before he recognised the rashness of his act. meanwhile, khaled, alarmed by darho's pluck and resolution, determined to entrap his old friend by stratagem: he despatched his acquaintance ali bey khabir to him with a message to the effect that he solemnly swore to do darho no harm, should he return, and that he would at once forget the matter which, after all, would never have happened had it not been for the perfectly comprehensible excitement occasioned by the mahdi's sudden death. in order, however, to satisfy public opinion, he enjoined that darho should come to el fasher as a penitent, and publicly acknowledge his error, promising that henceforth he would faithfully serve the mahdi's successor. ali khabir succeeded in convincing darho of khaled's sincerity. at this time the hostile party consisted only of a few soldiers, the shaigia, and some local tribesmen, and was quite incapable of any sustained resistance; accompanied therefore by these, he proceeded to el fasher, and, before entering the town, they placed iron chains about their necks, and followed khabir to the meeting place designated by khaled. on their way, they were insulted by the populace, who had collected in crowds to jeer at them; darho was infuriated, and, on reaching khaled's presence, cried out that had he had any notion he was to be received in this insulting manner, he would never have come. khaled, seizing on darho's words as a pretext, instantly ordered him and his officers to be arrested and thrown into chains; darho, now losing all control of himself, insulted khaled in the most open manner, and, in consequence, they were hurried off to the prison, their numbers being increased by three former officials, _viz_., ibrahim seian and hassan sharkassi, both egyptian officers, and yakub ramzi, chief clerk of the court of justice, who were accused of having been in secret correspondence with darho. these latter, pleading that they had been former government officials, and had not now sufficient to live upon, admitted that they had written a letter to darho, though only regarding the death of the mahdi; but it was affirmed that they had instigated him to revolt. in spite of their undoubted innocence, khaled ordered them, as well as darho and his friends, to be shot dead at sunrise the following morning; but this sentence was not allowed to be publicly known. khabir ali, however, learning what was intended, rushed to khaled's house, and endeavoured to dissuade him from his purpose; but this was not till the following morning, and on his way he stumbled across the bodies of his decapitated friends. raising his voice, he declared before the bystanders that, had he thought for a moment such measures would have been taken, nothing would have induced him to act as a mediator; and he deplored most bitterly the death of his old friends who had been slain in so treacherous a manner. abu anga was now in kordofan. this province had submitted entirely to the mahdi, with the exception of the southern mountainous regions, the inhabitants of which were looked upon as slaves who had objected to pay tribute, and who were consequently ordered to emigrate to omdurman. as they had refused to comply with these demands, abu anga had been despatched south, with injunctions not only to enforce their subjection, but also to quarter his enormous force of jehadia on them, and to procure plenty of slaves. after losing a considerable number of men, and a quantity of ammunition, he succeeded in carrying out these orders to some extent; but a large proportion of the inhabitants still continued to defend themselves most bravely in their mountain fastnesses, and remained independent. thus, with the exception of this small proportion of the natives, the entire western sudan, from the banks of the white nile to the frontiers of wadai, acknowledged the sway of the mahdi. in the eastern districts, however, the governors of sennar and kassala continued to defend their posts. whilst khartum was being besieged, steamers had been sent under subhi pasha to sennar, and, after replenishing the posts, had returned to the capital. but when the local tribes had been summoned by the mahdi to join in the holy war, they, collecting under their head sheikh, merdi abu rof of the gehéna tribe, laid siege to the town. surrounded for several months, the brave but famishing garrison at length made a sortie, drove off the besiegers, and captured in their camp a quantity of stores and grain which lasted them for some time. the mahdi, believing that the local tribes were somewhat lukewarm in their efforts, reinforced them by his cousin abdel kerim, with a considerable force from khartum. the latter, learning that the garrison was now suffering severely from famine, determined to take the town by storm; but he was forced back, and the garrison, making a counter attack, drove him out of his position. in spite of this victory, however, the condition of sennar became hopeless; constant fighting, famine, and the impossibility of relief began to tell at last. meanwhile, kassala had been closely besieged; and, although the garrison had made several successful sorties, they had gained no really decisive victory, and had not been able to replenish their store of provisions. the egyptian government, learning the critical situation of the garrisons in the eastern sudan, now appealed to king john of abyssinia to co-operate in relieving the posts of gallabat, gira, senhit, and kassala, and bring their garrisons to massawa. the governor of kassala, however, declared that as the garrison of the town was composed for the most part of local people, he could not induce them to leave the country. the mahdi now sent idris wad abder rahim and el hussein wad sahra with reinforcements to hasten the fall of the town. meanwhile, king john had succeeded in relieving the garrisons of senhit, gira, and gallabat, and removing them to massawa; thus all the arab tribes lying within the suakin-berber-kassala triangle became fanatical adherents of the mahdi. osman digna had already been appointed emir of this district; whilst mohammed kheir was ordered to proceed from berber with instructions to occupy dongola with the jaalin and barabra, after the retirement of the british army. such was briefly the situation in the sudan when khalifa abdullahi became its ruler. it was not, therefore, without reason that he summoned the western arab tribes to unite together, and seriously called their attention to the fact that they were strangers and foreigners in the nile valley. it can be readily understood that the aulad-belad, or local population, more especially the barabra, jaalin, and the inhabitants of the gezira, did not appreciate the advent of the khalifa and his western arabs, from whom they entirely differed in ideas and character; they saw with dread the new ruler seizing the reins of government, and relying entirely for the execution of his orders on his western compatriots. one of the khalifa's first steps was to expel from his position ahmed wad suleiman, whom he detested, and whom he knew to have given a large share of the booty to the ashraf (mahdi's relatives), who looked on him with no friendly eye. the unfortunate ahmed was ordered to give an account of the funds which had passed through his hands during the previous year; abdullahi well knew that the mahdi had trusted ahmed entirely, and had never called on him to keep full and accurate accounts, because the money he issued was almost invariably given under the mahdi's verbal orders, and he held no receipts. it was, of course, impossible for ahmed to produce the account; and his expulsion from the beit el mal, and the confiscation of his property, and that of several of his assistants, was looked upon by the populace as an act of justice. the khalifa appointed in his place ibrahim wad adlan, who was of the kawahla tribe located on the blue nile, but had spent many years of his life as a merchant in kordofan, and was in favour with the khalifa. adlan was now ordered to open ledgers showing the revenue and expenditure, and to keep his books in such a manner that at any moment, on the demand of the khalifa, he should be able to give an exact statement of the financial situation. he also ordered him to keep a careful list of those to whom money was issued, or who were in receipt of pensions. almost simultaneously with the death of the mahdi, came the news of the failure of the attack on sennar, and of the repulse of abdel kerim. the khalifa, therefore, at once despatched abderrahman en nejumi to take supreme command; and, in august, , the garrison surrendered to that redoubtable warrior. as usual, the fall of the town was the signal for a series of brutal atrocities and cruelties. a number of the inhabitants were sent to the khalifa, amongst them, all the good-looking young girls, and the daughters of the former government officials, of whom the khalifa kept some for himself, and distributed the remainder amongst his emirs. abdullahi entertained a particular aversion for the mahdi's cousin abdel kerim, and he now summoned him and his followers to omdurman. abdel kerim, being khalifa sherif's assistant, had taken with him when he went to sennar the black soldiers of sherif's flag; it was rumoured at the time, that he had said that, if supported by his own adherents, as well as by those of khalifa sherif, he would be sufficiently powerful to force khalifa abdullahi to hand over his authority to sherif, who, being a relative of the mahdi, and a khalifa, had every right to succeed. it was not known if abdel kerim was really serious in his intentions, or if these were mere idle tales; but abdullahi prepared himself, and all his relatives, and directed his brother yakub to hold his men in readiness when abdel kerim came. on the same day that he arrived in khartum, his men were ordered to be transferred to omdurman, and he himself received instructions to parade for the khalifa's inspection. accordingly, on the following day, at the head of six hundred men, he took up his position by the flag; and abdullahi arrived accompanied by the force prepared by his brother, and by several thousands of others. he heartily greeted abdel kerim and his troops, praised them for their courage in the siege of sennar, and then dismissed them. on his return to his house, he ordered the two khalifas and all the mahdi's relatives to come to his residence immediately after evening prayers. at sunset, we mulazemin were ordered to hold ourselves in readiness to introduce the expected visitors to the khalifa. on their arrival, they were taken to the inner part of the house, and directed to seat themselves on the ground; the two khalifas only were given sheepskins to sit upon, while abdullahi seated himself on a small angareb. from his elevated position, the khalifa now ordered his secretary to read the document which had been written by the late mahdi in his favour. this done, he informed the assembled people that abdel kerim was unfaithful. the latter of course denied it; nevertheless, he was found guilty, and khalifa ali wad helu seized the occasion to declare, in the most vehement terms, that he was a most faithful adherent of the mahdi, and khalifa abdullahi's slave. he based this declaration on the contents of the statement just read, and on the mahdi's last words as he lay on his death-bed. abdullahi, not wishing to appear too much concerned about abdel kerim's conduct, gave him a full pardon, but ordered that his black soldiers should be at once handed over. khalifa sherif and his relatives were obliged to accept this condition; and ali wad helu, on a wink from abdullahi, suggested that they should all renew the oath of allegiance. the proposal was accepted; the holy kuran was brought in; and those present, placing their hands on the sacred volume, swore that it was their duty to hand over to the khalifa all their black soldiers and arms. by way of encouragement, khalifa ali was the first to swear, and in this respect aided and abetted his master at a critical moment to no inconsiderable extent. khalifa sherif and his relatives, however, swore very unwillingly; and, after abdullahi himself had administered the oath, they were permitted to leave. this was the khalifa's first blow to his antagonists; and he thus crippled their power, and reduced them to a harmless position. now mohammed khaled alone was left; and, being one of the mahdi's near relatives, he had for long been a thorn in abdullahi's side. that evening, i happened to be alone with the khalifa, and he talked over the events of the day, remarking that, "a regent cannot share authority;" by this he inferred that the action of the two other khalifas had placed him in the position of an absolute ruler. on the following morning, abdel kerim and ahmed wad suleiman, representing khalifa sherif, handed over all their black soldiers, arms, and ammunition to the khalifa's brother yakub, who received them in the open space in front of his house. khalifa ali also made over the soldiers in his charge; and the united force of blacks was now placed under the command of abu anga's brother, fadl el maula, who, in order to exercise control, took up his residence temporarily in the barracks. not content with these measures, abdullahi now sent for the war-drums in charge of the other khalifas; and they were at once handed over, without further ado, to his deputy. still not satisfied, he ordered the flags, which hitherto were always planted in front of the residences of the respective khalifas, to be collected and placed all together in front of yakub's residence. the previous day he had, by kind words, won over khalifa ali to his side; and now the latter was the first to plant his flags in their new positions. khalifa sherif was powerless to do anything; all his black soldiers, his flags, and his war-drums, which are always known as signs of authority in the sudan, were safely deposited in yakub's hands; and the populace were not slow to recognise that abdullahi meant to be the one and only ruler, and was resolved to have his commands obeyed. whilst all these important matters were transpiring in the capital, the news arrived that kassala had surrendered, and that osman digna was fighting against the abyssinians under the leadership of ras alula. although the abyssinians had been victorious, and had driven digna back to kassala, they did not pursue him, but returned to their own country. osman digna now accused the former governor, ahmed bey effat, of having incited the abyssinians to take up arms against him, and of having been in communication with them. there were no grounds for this suspicion; but, nevertheless, he and six former officials of kassala had their hands tied behind their backs like criminals, and were shot dead. idris wad ibrahim, who, it will be remembered, had been despatched to kassala, was now ordered to return to omdurman with all his men, ammunition, loot, and women that he had captured, and to leave the country in the hands of osman digna. abdullahi fully realised that his action in regard to the other khalifas would naturally rouse the ire of the mahdi's relatives, with whom he was already on bad terms; but this was a matter of little concern to him. he was determined, by all the means in his power, and, if necessary, by recourse to violence, to enforce his commands, whatever they might be. but, on the other hand, he did not wish to entirely alienate public opinion, nor to give grounds to the numerous mahdists, who, owing to their love for the mahdi, entertained a certain affection for his relatives, for bringing against him accusations of injustice or hostility; he therefore presented them with numbers of female slaves, and to khalifa sherif he gave some very fine horses and mules, and distributed quantities of slaves amongst his retainers. he took good care to make these gifts widely known; and the populace, in their turn, praised him for his magnanimity, and went so far as to extol his justice and liberality in songs. still bent on improving his position, he despatched his relative and my friend, yunes wad ed dekeim, and his cousin osman wad adam to kordofan, and, in order to remove from omdurman the black troops he had taken away from the khalifas, he despatched them also to the west. yunes was instructed to bring into subjection the gimeh tribe, which was both rich and strong, but which had shown some lukewarmness in obeying the khalifa's summons to immigrate to omdurman. osman wad adam was ordered to join abu anga, and await further instructions. to both, however, he gave strict injunctions to collect as many male and female slaves as possible, and instruct the former in the use of fire-arms. previous to the arrival of yunes in gimeh, the head sheikh, asaker wad abu kalam, had already been summoned to omdurman, and had been imprisoned there; but his cousin, unwilling to submit to the rule of yunes, had, while endeavouring to escape, been overtaken and killed, while his tribe was now deprived of the greater part of its property, and forced to proceed to omdurman. yunes, having crossed the river at goz abu guma, had established a settlement there, and now returned to the khalifa for further orders. he had already despatched thousands of cattle to khartum, and, in consequence, received a very warm welcome. the khalifa now instructed him to remove the tribe to wad el abbas, opposite sennar, where he would send him further orders. yunes had a considerable attachment for me, and asked the khalifa's permission to take me with him, in order to assist in the transport arrangements, as the gimeh people were peculiarly unmanageable. at first, the khalifa refused the request, but eventually acceded to yunes's pressing demand. i had already taken possession of my new quarters the previous month, and my servant, with his three wives, who had been detained at el obeid when on his way from darfur, was now brought here by the khalifa's orders. three other male servants and their wives also arrived; but as they did not appear anxious to remain in my service, i handed them over to fadl el maula, who, in accordance with the khalifa's orders, took them into the ranks. my household now consisted of four male servants with their wives; and i asked the khalifa's permission to take three of them with me to sennar. "there is no necessity for you to take any of your servants with you," said the khalifa. "leave them here, and i will see that they are looked after; while yunes will be responsible for your comfort during the journey. i hope you will justify my confidence in you. carry out the orders of yunes, and you will regain my regard; go now to him, and tell him that i permit you to accompany him on his journey." yunes, delighted at the khalifa's permission, said that he would do all he could to make my journey pleasant, and talked so quickly and incessantly that i scarcely understood half of what he said. i was delighted at the thought of leaving omdurman, and being away from the tyrant whom i was obliged to serve day and night; i secretly cherished a hope that during the journey i might find some occasion to escape from the hands of my tormentors. one of the mulazemin now summoned me again to the khalifa's presence. "did you inform yunes," said he, "that you are going to accompany him?" and when i replied in the affirmative, he ordered me to sit down, and again began to give me the benefit of his advice. "i urge you," said he, "to serve me faithfully; i look upon you as my son and my heart is inclined toward you. god's holy word, the kuran, promises rewards to the faithful, but threatens the traitor with the divine wrath. yunes is your well-wisher, and will attend to what you may say to him. should he attempt to undertake anything which is not likely to lead to his advantage, you should warn him, for he is your master; but i have told him that i look upon you as my son, and he will take heed of what you say." "i will always endeavour," said i, "to act in accordance with your instructions; but yunes is my master, and will naturally do what he thinks right. do not therefore attribute ill-will to me; and i beg you will not make me responsible for anything which may happen contrary to your wishes." "you are only in a position to offer an opinion," said he; "but you have no power to act. should he pay heed to you, well and good; if not, it will be his own lookout if matters go wrong." he then turned the conversation to affairs in darfur, and told me that he had written some time ago to mahmud sherif to return with all available troops to kordofan, leaving in darfur a commander who, in his opinion, would be equal to the position. he had replied that amongst his relatives there was no one capable of representing their interests; and he recommended the selection of some one who could not only see after the public affairs of the province, but also his private business as well. in reply, the khalifa had assured him of his favour, urged him not to listen to intriguers, but to come as soon as possible to kordofan, and thence to omdurman. the last news he had received was to the effect that mahmud was on the point of coming with all his forces, and that he was already on the road. "do you think," said the khalifa, "that he will comply implicitly with my orders, and will come? you know him better than the others." "undoubtedly he will come," i replied; "for he does not dare to act contrary to your instructions." "i hope that this is so," replied he; "a timid subject is always more easy to rule than one who is not afraid to act disobediently." the conversation had already lasted some time; and i was about to ask permission to retire, when he beckoned to one of his eunuchs who was standing close by, and whispered a few words in his ear. i knew my master well, and had a foreboding of ill. "i have already instructed you," said he, "to leave behind all the members of your household; for, having only just arrived from a long journey, they must be fatigued, and i do not wish to expose them further. yunes will give you a servant; but i am giving you a wife, so that, in case of indisposition or illness, you may have some one to attend on you. she is pretty, and not plain like the one ahmed wad suleiman sent you," he said with a smile; and now beckoning to the woman who had just entered, to come nearer, the latter approached and threw off her veil. i glanced at her, and, in spite of her dark colour, she really was very pretty. "she was my wife," added the khalifa; "she is very good, and patient; but i have so many, i therefore gave her her freedom; but you may now call her your own." i was much embarrassed, and all the time had been casting over in my mind how i could refuse this gift without offending the giver. "sir, allow me to speak candidly," said i. "certainly," said he, "here you are at home. speak!" "i am at home where i need fear nothing," i began, hastily; "this woman was your wife, and has in consequence a right to be treated with consideration for your sake; this of course is an easy matter. but, sire, how can i, your servant, take your own wife for myself? moreover, you said yourself that you look upon me as your son." having said this, i dropped my head, and fixed my eyes on the ground, continuing, "i cannot accept this gift;" and then i awaited his answer with anxiety. "your words are good, and i pardon you," said he, signing to the woman, who was standing near us, to withdraw. "almas!" said he, to the eunuch, "bring my white jibba!" and when the servant brought it, he handed it to me, saying, "take this jibba, which i have often worn myself, and which was specially blessed by the mahdi for me.[ ] hundreds and thousands of people will envy you this; guard it carefully, for it will bring you blessings." i was delighted with this present, and fervently kissed his hand, which he extended to me; but inwardly i rejoiced to be rid of the woman, who would have been a useless encumbrance to me, besides an additional expense; and i thought the jibba an excellent exchange. i then begged leave to withdraw, and carried off with me my valuable present. yunes had fixed his departure for that day; but, before leaving, i was summoned once more to the khalifa, who, in the presence of yunes, again reminded me to be faithful and submissive. that evening, we left omdurman on board the steamer "bordein," which had been floated off the place where it had gone aground; and, on the second day, we reached goz abu guma. in accordance with the khalifa's instructions, we were to hurry on the gimeh people to wad el abbas as quickly as possible; and we called on the beni hussein tribe to supply us with camels to carry the water-skins. yunes was specially kind and considerate to me; he gave me one of his horses and three female slaves, and instructed two old soldiers to wait on me as servants. his total force numbered ten thousand combatants, of whom seven thousand belonged to the gimeh tribe, who were encumbered with a mass of women and children. i distributed the camels and water-skins amongst them; and we now prepared for the journey. our road led through sekedi moya, across a plain which, as i remarked before, had been named tibki teskut (you weep and are silent); and as i crossed it, i recalled all the bloodshed and fighting which had taken place in the sudan. in the houses which lay close to the track, we saw innumerable skeletons of the rebels who had been driven away from the wells by saleh, and had succumbed to thirst. on the third day, we reached the banks of the blue nile, and saw sennar in the distance; the khalifa had issued strict orders that we should on no account proceed to this city, which was now lying half ruined, and which, as it had held out until after the mahdi's death, the khalifa said, would bring us no luck. we found several boats in readiness, and in them crossed the blue nile, which is here about four hundred yards broad; but this operation took us several days. just north of wad el abbas, there is a strip of high sandy ground; and this was selected as the position of the camp, because the land in the vicinity is low-lying, and unfit for habitation during the rainy season. all my thoughts were now bent on flight; but, as most of the people entirely sympathised with the khalifa's government, it required the greatest care on my part to select any one in whom to place confidence. very soon after our arrival at wad el abbas, i received a letter from the khalifa, which ran as follows:-- "in the name of god, the all-bountiful and merciful, from the noble sayed abdullahi ibn sayed mahmud, by the grace of god, khalifat el mahdi, on whom be peace, to our brother in god, abdel kader saladin. "after this greeting of peace, this is to inform you that i have not received any letter from you since your departure; but i hope that, by the grace of god, you are in good health. you know my instructions, and you have drunk from the river of my eloquence; i have urged you to remain faithful, and i know that you will uphold your promise. this day, i received a letter from one of the mahdi's friends, who tells me that your wife, coming from the land of the unbelievers, has reached korosko, and is at this moment endeavouring to bribe people to induce them to fly with you, in order to bring you to her; and i have been told that you know all about this. i therefore again urge you to adhere steadfastly to the faith of the prophet, and to perform with honesty the duties upon which you have entered; but i wish to add that no doubt has entered into my heart of your fidelity. i only wish you peace, and i greet you." at the same time, a letter arrived for yunes to the effect--so his secretary told me in confidence--that news had come from berber, and that a very strict watch was to be kept over me. under these circumstances, i could not conceive why the khalifa had written to me. yunes did not tell me that he had received these instructions, and, outwardly, was more friendly than ever with me; but i was guarded very closely both by day and night, and when, a few days later, some hundreds of the gimeh arabs were, in accordance with the khalifa's orders, embarked on a steamer to proceed to omdurman, yunes instructed me to return with them in order, he said, to give the khalifa a verbal account of the situation. i perfectly understood what was meant, and realised that he wished to avoid the responsibility of having me with him. when all the people were embarked, i went to say good-bye to yunes, who gave me orders to inform the khalifa on a number of points. i said that when this duty was over, i presumed i should return to him, to which he replied, "perhaps you wish to remain with our master the khalifa, or possibly he may require your presence in omdurman. had i better send the horse i gave you after you, or shall i keep it here?" i assured him that i looked upon the horse as his, and not mine; for i was well aware that once back in omdurman, i should again have to walk barefoot. as a token of his friendship, yunes gave me a hundred hides, and a letter of recommendation to the khalifa. the second day after leaving wad el abbas, i reached omdurman, handed over the gimeh under my charge to yakub, and was then received by the khalifa. he affected great surprise at seeing me, saying that he thought i should have some difficulty in leaving yunes even for an hour. these were of course mere empty words; for i knew perfectly well that this was a plan arranged between them to get me back without my suspecting it. meanwhile, he gave me permission to go and visit my household, after which i was to return to him for further orders. in the evening, we were once more alone, and he began to talk of the letter which had come from berber. i assured him that if the letter had really come, it must have been written with an intention to do me harm, or that there was some mistake; and, in proof of this, i told him that i had never been married, and that, in consequence, there could be no pining wife to come and look for me. should any one, however, come to omdurman and try to induce me to fly, my first step would be at once to inform the khalifa. he assured me that he did not believe the rumour, and then asked me if i preferred to stay with him or return to yunes. guessing his intention, i told him that nothing in the world would induce me to leave him again, and that i considered the time spent with him as the happiest in my life. although pleased at my flattering words, he took occasion to remind me, in a very serious tone of voice, to be faithful and true, and to have nothing whatever to do with people other than his own household; and he then ordered me to take my place as usual before the gate. on withdrawing from his presence, and thinking the matter over, i had no doubt now that his suspicions against me had not only taken root, but had begun to grow. at this time the force in el obeid included about two hundred blacks, mostly old soldiers, whose numbers had been increased by the arrival of a portion of the former garrison of dara. many of them were inhabitants of jebel daïr, who were in constant enmity with the mahdists, and who had been captured by them and utilised as slaves to build their huts. indignant at this treatment, they resolved to regain freedom by force. fadl el maula bekhit, one of my servants who had been detained in el obeid, and beshir, a former lieutenant, were the ringleaders of this conspiracy; and it is always a wonder to me that the mahdists did not succeed in discovering the plot. sayed mahmud, it will be remembered, had been summoned to omdurman; and the mutineers now thought the favourable moment had arrived to put their plans into execution. suddenly, at midday, the inhabitants of el obeid were startled by the firing of rifles; the soldiers had seized the isolated building which was used as a storehouse for the arms and ammunition, and were firing on the dervishes, who had attacked them in this position. the latter were driven back; and the former then succeeded in collecting their wives and children. the dervishes, having only a few fire-arms, had retreated to the government buildings, and had barricaded the doors. the soldiers, encouraged by their success, now attempted to take these buildings by storm; but were forced to retire. in this attack, abder rahman el borusi, formerly one of my best and bravest subalterns, was killed; while the dervishes lost abdel hashmi, sayed mahmud's representative, who was greatly detested by the soldiers on account of his overbearing ways. if the soldiers had only had a good leader, el obeid would certainly have fallen into their hands; but, under the circumstances, they had no special desire to take this post, and were merely bent on regaining their freedom. that night they spent in the powder magazine, where they were joined by quantities of male and female slaves, who took this opportunity to run away from their masters. early the next morning, the inhabitants and the dervishes attempted an attack on the soldiers, but were utterly defeated, and lost a large number in killed and wounded. the soldiers, longing for freedom, now left el obeid, and marched in a southerly direction towards the nuba mountains; but, before leaving, they plundered a number of houses, and, seizing the women they found there, made them their slaves. the dervishes now attempted to pursue them; but the soldiers, elated by their freedom, again utterly routed them. unfortunately, the emir of the soldiers, a certain wad abdulla, a native of wad medina, and who had also been one of my officers at dara, knew of the plot, but did not join in time, fearing it might fail; he was now seized by the gellabas, and, in spite of his innocence, was beheaded. the news of this mutiny was at once sent to sayed mahmud in omdurman; and the khalifa, no longer requiring his services there, permitted him to return to el obeid, with instructions to come back as soon as possible to omdurman with his family, and with all the other relatives of the late mahdi, but forbade him to pursue the mutineers. when, however, he arrived at el obeid, moved either by feelings of revenge, or thinking perhaps that by killing the mutineers he should obtain favour, he disregarded the khalifa's orders, and, collecting all the able-bodied inhabitants of the town and neighbourhood, advanced against the soldiers. the latter had taken up a strong position in the golfan and naïma hills, and had established there a sort of military republic, nominating as their chief beshir, who was formerly a sergeant. he gave careful instructions that the ammunition was not to be wasted; and he forbade the mention of the name of the mahdi under pain of punishment. they acknowledged the khedive as their master, and swore in his name; and the neighbourhood supplied them with abundant food. sayed mahmud, on his arrival at el obeid, had despatched secret agents to assure the mutineers that he loved them as his own children, and that he would give them a full and free pardon should they submit to him. the soldiers jeeringly replied, that he should first of all convince himself of their affection for him. thereupon, mahmud resolved to storm the mountain, and, carrying his own banner at the head of his troops, he was shot dead while leading the assault. several of his adherents who attempted to recover his body met with a like fate, whilst the remainder of his following dispersed, and fled in all directions, pursued by the nuba mountaineers, who inflicted heavy loss on them. hamdan abu anga, who at this time was only a few days distant from the scene of operations, at once reported this occurrence to the khalifa, and asked to be allowed to punish the victorious mutineers; but he was instructed to take no further action, as his master had more important duties for him to perform; he had now to deal with mohammed khaled. in omdurman, however, the khalifa declared publicly, that sayed mahmud had been justly punished by god for his disobedience; and that instead of coming to him as ordered, he had sought fame and revenge, in attacking the rebels contrary to his wishes. for some time back, khaled had received letters from the khalifa, asking him to come to omdurman, and offering him a high position and honours. the latter had made all preparations for his departure, and was on the point of starting, when the news came of the action taken by the khalifa in regard to khalifa sherif, and the relatives of the late mahdi. khaled now received further letters from abdullahi, telling him how the action of these relatives had forced him to take this unfortunate step; he begged him, in consequence, to come with all speed, as he had no doubt that his practical common sense would assist him in bringing about a reconciliation with all parties. khaled, believing in these assurances, and anxious to be of assistance to his relative, hastened his journey and camped at bara. he had under his command a very considerable force, which was augmented by a large number of the local population of darfur who had been unwillingly compelled to immigrate. he had at his disposal upwards of a thousand cavalry, and three thousand rifles, whilst his followers could not have numbered less than twenty thousand persons. previous, however, to khaled's arrival, abu anga, who had with him over five thousand rifles, had received secret instructions to move to bara, and now advanced thither by forced marches. at sunrise one morning, khaled found his camp completely encircled by abu anga's troops, who were prepared to carry out his instructions, should the slightest opposition be made. abu anga now summoned khaled to appear before him; and the order was at once obeyed. on his arrival the khalifa's instructions were handed to him, which were to the effect that, as a token of his submission and fidelity, he should at once make over to abu anga all his soldiers and cavalry, as the latter was considered commander-in-chief of the army; khaled complied with this order without demur, and, being detained by abu anga, who obliged him to give the necessary instructions, in a short time the whole of the darfur troops were placed under the command of subordinates nominated by abu anga. this over, abu anga now summoned all the emirs who accompanied him from darfur, and read out to them a very flattering document from the khalifa, in which they were given the option of remaining with him, or returning to omdurman. khaled and his relatives, however, were arrested; their property confiscated; and all the treasure accumulated in the beit el mal was taken possession of by abu anga. said bey guma, who, for a considerable time, had acted as chief of abu anga's artillery, also reaped considerable benefit from this episode, by obtaining permission to re-annex all his slaves, wives, and property which had been confiscated in darfur, and which khaled had brought along with him. khaled himself was placed in irons, and sent to el obeid; where he had leisure to think over the khalifa's letter, and to recognise that there is a wide difference between making a promise, and carrying that promise into effect. the khalifa, however, was completely satisfied with the result of his plan. once more he had inflicted a crushing blow on his opponents, who had counted greatly on khaled's return, but who now saw abu anga's army augmented by the very men they had thought to utilise for their own purposes. abu anga's force now numbered several thousands; he soon acquired an influence over the darfur emirs and their subjects, whom he considered his compatriots, and several of them proceeded to omdurman, where they were received by the khalifa with the highest honours. thus were the fears of the inhabitants of the nile valley increased, owing to the growing prestige and power acquired by the western arabs; and they realised that for them a reign of despotic tyranny was approaching. abu anga now received instructions to attack and destroy the rebels in the golfan mountains, who, after the death of mahmud, considered themselves masters of the situation, and began to treat the inhabitants of the district tyrannically, the result being that internal dissensions arose amongst the various tribes, and they began to scatter and return to their own homes. on the approach of abu anga, my old servant with his wife, feeling that he could not count on success, went over to him, saying he was tired of fighting, and was ready to submit to such punishment as his crime merited, all he begged was permission to defend himself. he represented that he had been my servant in darfur, and that he, with several others, had been forcibly prevented by mahmud from continuing his journey, that owing to the constant insults he had received, he had become angry and disgusted, had joined the mutineers, and had taken an active part in the fighting; but that now he had come to beg forgiveness, and ask permission to join me, or suffer the punishment to which he was justly entitled. abu anga, whose father had been a slave, and who always had compassion on his own tribesmen, and detested the gellabas (a name which the western arabs used generally for all inhabitants of the nile valley), knew perfectly well that the soldiers had been driven into revolt by the unjust treatment they had received, and, consequently, generously pardoned my servant for the sake, he said, of his old friendship for me, and to do me honour in my position as mulazem of the khalifa. he thereupon gave him a letter to me, announcing that he had great pleasure in returning to me my old servant, and that he rejoiced we were again united. beshir, who had refused the offer of submission, was attacked by abu anga's troops the following day, and, after making a magnificent stand, was killed, together with fadl el maula, and several soldiers who had remained true to him to the end. on the night previous to this action, several of his men had deserted secretly, and had hidden themselves in various parts of the country; but one after the other they were forced to surrender and accept the pardon offered them. abu anga himself, however, took advantage of his success only in so far as to requisition the inhabitants to supply his army with food, and to acquire male and female slaves; whilst he left his cousin osman wad adam as his representative in el obeid. an order now arrived that the latter should take over the command of darfur, where sultan yusef, a son of sultan ibrahim, who had been killed in zubeir's time, was in revolt. i ascertained, from a merchant who had recently arrived from kordofan, that my friend joseph ohrwalder had quitted el obeid, and would shortly arrive in omdurman. although i knew that i should have considerable difficulty in meeting him, i rejoiced to think that one of my old countrymen would be near me. i sat at my master's gate, ready at all times to obey his orders. occasionally, i was spoken to kindly, and commanded to dine with him; at other times, without rhyme or reason as far as i knew, i was taken no notice of for days, receiving from my master only the blackest and most disdainful looks; but this was due to the extraordinary changeability of his character, and i knew i must put up with it. i suppose this was part of my education. to my comrades, i showed myself absolutely callous to everything that happened in the country, so that they should have no reason to increase the distrust felt by the khalifa, who, i knew, frequently inquired as to my conduct. as a matter of fact, however, i watched all the occurrences as closely as my position would allow, and endeavoured to impress them on my mind; for i was, of course, prohibited from writing a single line. the khalifa contributed very little towards the support of my household, and only occasionally gave orders for me to be supplied with a few ardebs of dhurra, or a sheep, or a cow. ibrahim adlan, whom i had known in the time of the government, used to send me monthly from ten to twenty dollars; and a few of the officials and merchants who were in better circumstances than myself, used secretly to send me small sums of money. thus, though by no means well off, i did not lack the absolute necessaries of life, and only occasionally felt the actual pinch of want; anyhow i was better off than my friend lupton, whom the khalifa had promised to assist, but paid absolutely no attention to his wants. lupton, it is true, enjoyed a certain amount of freedom: he was allowed to wander about in omdurman, and to talk to the people; nor was he obliged to attend the five prayers daily at the mosque; but, in spite of this, life to him was full of trouble and sorrow. i begged ibrahim adlan to interest himself in lupton, and to give a kind thought to him occasionally, by helping him with small sums of money; but this was not sufficient to keep him, and, though ignorant of any trade, he had perforce to earn a livelihood by mending old arms. having been an officer in the english merchant service, i thought he might know something about machinery. meeting him one day in the mosque, he complained bitterly of his wretched position; and i suggested to him that if he could secure an appointment in the khartum dock-yard, it might improve his condition. he jumped at the idea; and i promised that i would do my best to help him. a few days later, it happened that the khalifa was in a good temper, and showed a friendly disposition towards me, as abu anga had sent him a present of a young horse, some money, and some of khaled's slaves. i was commanded to dine with him; and, in the course of conversation, succeeded in turning the subject to the steamers and their machinery, which, up to that day, had been an absolute mystery to him. "the steamers," said i, "require competent men to look after them and repair damages. as most of the workmen in the dock-yard were killed during the siege of khartum, i suppose you have had some difficulty in replacing them?" "but what is to be done?" said the khalifa. "these steamers are of the greatest value to me; and i must do all i can to preserve them." "abdullahi lupton," said i, "was formerly engineer on a steamer; if he received a good monthly salary from the beit el mal, i believe he would be really useful for this work." "then will you speak to him," said he, apparently much pleased; "if he undertook this work of his own free-will and accord, without being forced into it, i believe he would be of some use in these matters, of which, i admit, i know absolutely nothing. i will order ibrahim adlan to pay him well." "i do not even know his whereabouts," said i. "i have not seen him for a long time; but i will make inquiries. i feel confident that he will be only too glad to serve you." the following day, i sent for lupton, told him of the conversation, but begged him to do as little as he possibly could for our enemies. he assured me that the steamers, of the machinery of which he had only a superficial knowledge, would, under his charge, grow worse instead of better, and that it was only his unfortunate circumstances which obliged him to accept the position. the khalifa had also spoken to ibrahim adlan; and that evening, lupton sent me word that he was now appointed an employé in the arsenal, with pay at the rate of forty dollars a month, which would be just sufficient to save him from absolute want. the khalifa took this occasion to dismiss from the arsenal a certain sayed taher, an uncle of the mahdi, by whom he had been appointed director. he had been formerly a carpenter in kordofan, was excessively ignorant, but excelled in every description of dishonesty, and freely sold iron and other material; he was replaced by an egyptian who had been born in london, and was of such a timorous nature that he did not dare to be dishonest. the khalifa now found that the kababish, who inhabited the northern portion of kordofan as far as dongola, and whose herds pastured down to omdurman, were not sufficiently submissive for his purpose; he therefore gave instructions to ibrahim adlan to confiscate everything they had, under the pretext that they had been frequently ordered to undertake a pilgrimage, and that they had refused to comply. ibrahim adlan accordingly sent off a a party, who confiscated the kababish flocks. this tribe used to do all the carrying trade of gum from kordofan, and possessed considerable sums of money, which, in accordance with the usual arab custom, they buried in some out-of-the-way place in the desert known only to themselves; they were now maltreated and tortured in order to make them disgorge, with the result that large amounts reached the beit el mal. the tribe as a whole submitted without much fighting; but saleh bey, the head sheikh, and a brother of sheikh et tom, who had been beheaded by the mahdi, collected his nearest relatives, and, together with them, proceeded to the wells of om badr, where nobody dared to follow them. the khalifa thereupon despatched two well-known sheikhs, wad nubawi of the beni jerrar and wad atir of the maalia, to ask him to come to omdurman, not only promising him full pardon, but also his nomination as emir of the kababish. saleh bey listened quietly to the proposition, and, to the astonishment of the messengers, took some tobacco, which is detested by the mahdists, and, putting it into his mouth, said, "i have well understood what you have said; the khalifa forgives me entirely, and desires me to come to omdurman. supposing now that on my arrival the prophet should appear to the khalifa--for we all know that the khalifa acts altogether on the inspirations of the prophet--and instructs him not to forgive me; what then?" the messengers were not able to answer this question, and, each having received a present of a camel, returned to the khalifa and related exactly what had occurred. several of the kababish who had been deprived of their property, now deserted to sheikh saleh at om badr; and, in a very short time, although not a very powerful enemy, he was sufficiently so to prove of considerable annoyance to the khalifa. in omdurman, the kababish camels and sheep were sold by auction in the beit el mal, and the price of meat fell considerably in consequence, but the price of grain rose in proportion: the reason of this being that yunes permitted his men in the gezira to do just as they liked. these districts were the granary of omdurman; and yunes, having introduced into them thousands of the gimeh tribe, with their wives and children, who had been deprived of all they possessed, these now organised themselves into bands of brigands who not only seized all the grain they could lay their hands on, but terrorised the inhabitants who cultivated the land. thus the store of grain diminished daily; whilst the army of yunes, to his great delight, grew in numbers, being augmented by runaway slaves and a large supply of independent individuals. it was the khalifa's intention to weaken the power of the gezira people, who belonged, for the most part, to khalifa sherif's party; but now the paucity of grain somewhat alarmed him, and he therefore sent orders to yunes to return to omdurman with his entire force. in accordance with these instructions, this great mass of people swept towards omdurman, seizing everything they could lay their hands on; and yunes entered the capital, as it were, at the head of a conquering army laden with loot of every description. he was ordered to take up a position towards the south end of the city, near the forts; and to this day the place is known as dem yunes. shortly after his arrival, it was rumoured in omdurman that the abyssinians intended attacking gallabat. it was said that a certain hajji ali wad salem, of the kawahla, who resided in gallabat, and who had formerly had some trading transactions with the abyssinians, was travelling in their country, had been made an emir of a portion of his tribe, had invaded abyssinian territory, and had destroyed the church of gabta. a certain takruri named saleh shanga, who had resided at gallabat, and had held a position of some importance under government, had quitted that town on its evacuation by the egyptian troops, and had settled down in abyssinia; but his cousin ahmed wad arbab had been made dervish emir of the district. ras adal, governor of the province of amhara, now called on arbab to deliver up hajji ali, who had been disturbing the peace; and as this demand was refused, he had collected a considerable force, and had invaded gallabat. meanwhile, arbab, who had received warning of ras adal's approach, now collected his followers, amounting to some six thousand men, and awaited his arrival outside the town. the rush of the abyssinian force, which was ten times as strong as that of arbab, was terrible: in a few minutes, the mahdi's forces were completely surrounded; arbab himself killed, and almost all his troops massacred, only a very few escaping. the abyssinians mutilated the bodies of all, except that of arbab, which, out of consideration for saleh shanga, was untouched. the dervishes had stored their spare ammunition in an isolated house, and had placed it in charge of an egyptian, who, being called upon after the battle to surrender, refused to do so; and on the abyssinians attempting to storm it, he blew it up, thus destroying himself and his enemies. the wives and children of those who had been killed, were now carried off into captivity by the abyssinians. gallabat itself was burnt to the ground; and, for a long time, its site was little else than a great open cemetery, the abode of nothing save hyenas. when the news of the destruction of wad arbab's army reached the khalifa, he sent a letter to king john requesting him to release the captive wives and children in exchange for a sum of money which he asked him to fix; but, at the same time, he ordered yunes to quit omdurman with his entire force, and proceed to gallabat, where he was to await further orders. on the departure of the army of yunes, the khalifa himself, with a number of his followers, crossed to the west in a steamer, and, after staying with them three days, he gave the warriors his parting blessing, and then returned to omdurman. some time since, gustav klootz, who had failed to make a living in omdurman, had disappeared, and i thought he must have escaped out of the country; but i now learnt, from some merchants who had just arrived from gedaref, that he had reached that place, but had succumbed to the fatigues of the journey, and had died just before the abyssinian invasion. nejumi and abu girga were now ordered, the former to dongola, and the latter to kassala, with instructions to occupy the country with their troops, whilst osman digna was appointed ruler of the arab tribes between kassala and suakin. the khalifa, however, in order to keep himself fully informed of the actions and intentions of nejumi and abu girga, who, with their men, originally belonged to the nile valley, and did not, in consequence, possess his entire confidence, nominated two of his own relatives, mussaid wad gaidum and osman wad ali, as his representatives, with instructions that they should on all occasions be consulted. in this manner, not only did mussaid and ali obtain a certain amount of control, but the arrangement also tended to give them a species of authority amongst the nile arabs. thus, gradually, he extended his power over the entire sudan, by lessening the authority of the local inhabitants, and placing his own relatives and tribesmen in positions of importance. he and his emirs enlarged their households almost daily, and their luxurious mode of life required the expenditure of considerable sums of money; it was therefore necessary to acquire a thorough hold over the revenues of the country. the number of his personal followers, and especially his armed mulazemin, increased rapidly, and it was necessary to arrange for their maintenance. money was required for them, as well as for those who were secretly hostile to him, and whom he wished to gain over to his side without an open rupture. ibrahim adlan was now called upon to regulate the finances. the revenues consisted of fitra (poll-tax), which every living man was obliged to pay at the end of the great fast of ramadan; its payment was usually made in grain,--approximately eight rotls,--but it might also be paid in cash. no one was exempt from this obligation; and parents were compelled to pay not only for their children under age, but even for their newly-born babes. another source of income was the zeka (or two-and-a-half-per-cent "alms for the poor") which was paid in grain, cattle, or money in accordance with the moslem law. the officials appointed to gather this tax were nominated by yakub and ibrahim; and it was presented by them to the khalifa. they were obliged to keep a strict account of all receipts, which they had to render to the beit et mal, supported by vouchers. an attempt was also made to regulate the expenditure, that is to say, ibrahim adlan was forbidden to pay away money as he thought proper. of course, certain persons,--such as the kadi, his clerks, the chiefs of the mulazemin, etc.,--whose services were absolutely necessary to the khalifa, were granted certain specified sums, which were paid monthly, but which were so small that they were scarcely sufficient to provide for the bare necessaries of life; for instance, the chief kadi, who bore the title of kadi islam, received only forty dollars a month; the khalifa's secretary, thirty; and so on. khalifa sherif and his relatives received a certain sum in accordance with the khalifa's special orders; but khalifa ali wad helu, owing to his submission and obedience, was in the khalifa's favour, and obtained a somewhat larger amount. the principal share, however, of the sudan revenue was absorbed by the khalifa and his relatives; and he and his brother yakub utilised it in satisfying the demands of the western tribes, whose adherence to his cause was most necessary, and who, having left their own country, were occasionally in considerable straits. another means of increasing the revenue was by the hiring out of ferries along the whole extent of the river; and ibrahim adlan also started a soap-boiling establishment, which was made a government monopoly. one day, the khalifa, riding through the city, entered a district which he did not usually visit, and there his olfactory nerves were greeted with an odour which he well knew; he at once ordered search to be made to discover from whence it came, and, in a few minutes, a poor half-naked individual was brought before him, holding in his hand a stewpan in which he had been attempting to boil soap. the khalifa at once gave orders that he should be thrown into prison, and his property, consisting of a stewpan and an angareb, should be confiscated. an immense stock of silver trinkets, captured in the various campaigns, lay stored up in the beit el mal; and quantities of these had been sold for much below their value and had been secretly taken, from time to time, by dealers to egypt. in order to put a stop to this, the khalifa now decided to make his own coinage. after the fall of khartum, ahmed wad suleiman had attempted to coin silver dollars and gold guineas; but, on the mahdi's express wish, he had abandoned it. ibrahim adlan, however, now began to strike half, quarter, and whole dollars; and it was arranged that the new dollar, which weighed eight drachms, should consist of six drachms of silver and two of copper, but should have the same value as the medjidi dollar. the merchants, however, refused to accept these; and, as a punishment, the khalifa confiscated their goods and closed their shops. this brought them to reason; and, on agreeing to accept them at their whole value, their property was restored; but they were warned that, if they made any further difficulties, they would be punished by the loss of the right hand and left foot. the natural outcome of these arbitrary measures was an immediate rise of prices to compensate for the difference in value between the new and old dollars; of course, all the khalifa knew was that the dollar had been accepted, and with that he was satisfied. another source of income realised by ibrahim adlan was the organisation of the sale of slaves; it was now arranged that slaves of both sexes should be sold at a certain specified place near the beit el mal. the vendor was obliged to make out a bill, endorsed by the beit el mal, admitting that the object of negotiation was absolutely and entirely the property of the purchaser; and for this bill a tax was levied. the beit el mal was now arranged in the most comfortable manner possible; it was removed from the vicinity of the mosque, and located in a large walled enclosure near the river. adlan had special buildings erected for his own clerk, for counting-houses, and for drug-stores where the old medicines which had escaped destruction in the sack of khartum, were now deposited; he also erected large grain stores. in fact, ibrahim adlan was ambitious enough to endeavour to make his position rank next to that of the khalifa in importance; and, while doing all he could to remain in his good graces, he did not forget that the latter was also to a large extent in the hands of the kadis, or religious judges, of whom the chief was ahmed wad ali, kadi of islam. all lawsuits and quarrels of a public or private nature, as well as government litigation, were brought before the court of kadis to be decided; and, in accordance with the khalifa's instructions, they were supposed to execute judgment as laid down in the sheria mohammedia (religious law), the manshur el mahdi (instructions of the mahdi), and el ishara (signs and commands of the khalifa). the natural result of this was, that, instead of upholding the law, they became the prime abusers of it. it frequently happened that the "instructions" of the mahdi differed entirely with the religious law; and then, besides this, the "signs and commands" of the khalifa had also to be observed,--that is to say, each case was judged in accordance with the khalifa's wishes; and it invariably happened that judgment was given in favour of the mahdi or khalifa, even in private quarrels in which, in order to obtain some personal advantage, the khalifa frequently and most unjustifiably interfered. in the kadi el islam, the khalifa had a most faithful servant, ever ready to obey his master's wishes to the letter, no matter how grossly the law was misapplied. human life was of no account; and the kadi and his colleagues would, without the smallest hesitation, give a judgment utterly opposed to right and truth, and which would have the most direful consequence on perfectly innocent persons. in order to qualify the grossest miscarriages of justice, he would publicly announce from his pulpit, that he himself would be perfectly prepared to submit to this jurisdiction, and that should any one consider himself in the smallest degree oppressed by the judgment just given, he had only to appeal to the court of kadis. on one occasion, a dweller on the white nile, who had been recently, and very unjustly, dismissed from his position as emir, believing in the genuineness of the khalifa's statement, summoned him to appear before the kadis. he complied with the summons, and entered the mosque where the judges were sitting in an attitude of complete submission; and, the news having got about that the khalifa had been invited to appear before a court of justice, an immense crowd collected to hear the proceedings. the plaintiff, abdel minem, stated that he had been wronged by the khalifa, having been dismissed by him from his position as emir, which he had held during the whole period of the mahdi's rule, and that he was popular with his own tribe, who did not wish him removed. the khalifa, having dismissed him because he suspected him of leanings to the party of khalifa sherif, defended himself by saying that he had summoned him on several occasions, in order to give him some important instructions, but that he was never to be found either in his house or in a place of worship, which was a proof that he was neglectful in matters of religion, and that it was on this account he had dismissed him. without the slightest hesitation, the court gave judgment in favour of the khalifa; and the plaintiff was flogged until he bled, carried off to prison, and, on his way there, was almost lynched by the mob. the whole country, however, rang with the praises of the khalifat el mahdi and representative of the prophet, who, so great was his sense of justice, did not fear to appear in the court, side by side with his own subjects, and submissively await the judgment of the kadis. but in order to delude the public with the idea that he was of a most kind and forgiving nature, he released his antagonist the following day, and presented him with a new jibba and a wife. chapter xii. events in various parts of the sudan. karamalla's expedition to the bahr el ghazal--madibbo's quarrel with karamalla--affairs in darfur--execution of madibbo--defeat and death of sheikh saleh el kabbashi--capture of charles neufeld--my interview with him--arrival of abu anga's army in omdurman--destruction of the gehéna tribe--the conspiracy of "saidna isa"--abu anga's campaign in abyssinia--sack of gondar--terrible fate of the captives--osman wad adam's campaign in darfur--death of sultan yusef--instances of the khalifa's tyranny--building of the mahdi's tomb--letters from home--death of my mother--death of lupton--nejumi ordered to invade egypt. mohammed khaled had left sultan yusef, the son of sultan ibrahim, and the legitimate successor, as chief emir of darfur. he was quite a young man, and endeavoured to strengthen his position by soliciting the good-will of abu anga and his assistant, osman wad adam, who then resided at el obeid. every now and then he sent them quantities of horses and slaves; and they, in their turn, sent what they thought advisable to the khalifa. khaled, on leaving darfur, had taken with him almost all the mahdists who were inhabitants of the nile valley; yusef, therefore, found himself governing the land of his forefathers principally by means of his own subjects; and the latter, in their turn, assuming that his government would be mild, fully appreciated the change. shortly after the mahdi's death, the khalifa had sent messengers to karamalla, in the bahr el ghazal, instructing him to leave the country, and come, with all his troops, to shakka. karamalla, after lupton had surrendered the country, had taken possession of the province, and had proceeded to suda, and forced the mutinous sultan zemio to quit his residence, which he had fortified under the directions of dr. junker. zemio had barely escaped with his life, and, taking with him some of his wives, had left most of his treasures of ivory in karamalla's hands. after this success, karamalla had moved in a southeasterly direction into the equatorial provinces, which were then under the rule of emin pasha, and was just approaching the nile, when he received the orders to turn back. had it not been that he had the full support of his own countrymen, karamalla could not have obeyed the khalifa's command; for it was an operation of great difficulty to induce the bazingers to leave their own homes and go to shakka. however, after the evacuation of the bahr el ghazal, several of the gellabas had hurried from darfur and kordofan to join karamalla, and procure ivory and slaves for themselves. in consequence, the riverain element, consisting principally of jaalin and danagla, represented a considerable portion of the force, and it was impossible for the bazingers to refuse to return. thus, partly of his own free-will, and partly from stress of circumstances, karamalla returned, bringing with him an immense number of female slaves, whom he had kidnapped from the districts through which he passed. in spite of all his precautions, several of his bazingers managed to escape on the march with their arms; but he had still at his disposal over three thousand rifles on his arrival at shakka, where he sold his enormous quantities of male and female slaves to the dealers, who paid him in ready money. like a sensible man, he sent some of the money and the pick of the slaves, by his brother suleiman, to the khalifa; and the latter, much pleased with his present, ordered him to remain at shakka. both abu anga, and osman wad adam also came in for a fair share of the spoil. at shakka, however, karamalla conducted himself as if he were ruler of the whole country, and perpetrated every description of tyranny and extortion. madibbo, the emir and ruler of this part of these districts, reproached him bitterly; but karamalla, who had seized a number of horses and slaves from the rizighat arabs, told him to mind his own business. several of the malcontents now rallied round madibbo, and this was exactly what karamalla wanted. he sought an excuse for a quarrel; and when madibbo, who had been ordered to appear before him, refused to obey the summons, he proceeded against him as a rebel. a fight took place; madibbo was defeated, and fled towards darfur; while karamalla followed him up through dara as far as the neighbourhood of el fasher, and had thus an opportunity of seeing for himself the richness of the country. he now requested sultan yusef to follow up and capture madibbo; whilst he himself returned to dara, where he settled down, much to the annoyance and disgust of sultan yusef's officials. madibbo was captured by zaguna at about two days' distance from fasher, and was handed over to sultan yusef; and the latter sent him, under escort, to abu anga in kordofan, and at the same time took occasion to complain of karamalla's conduct. the latter, however, had written direct to the khalifa in omdurman, informing him that the furs were trying to revive the dynasty, and that sultan yusef was only a mahdist in outward appearance. abu anga had also forwarded the letters he had received from sultan yusef; and now the khalifa had to choose between karamalla and yusef; but, with his usual astuteness, he did neither. abdullahi rightly concluded that yusef, being the direct descendant of the old dynasty, would, if permitted to remain, endeavour to strengthen his own position to such an extent that he might eventually struggle to regain his independence. on the other hand, karamalla, being a dongolawi, and a relative of the mahdi, was undoubtedly a partisan of khalifa sherif; moreover, most of the bazingers belonged either to the danagla or jaalin, and it was not to the interest of the khalifa to strengthen either of these parties, although they were at present openly disposed towards him. he therefore wrote to sultan yusef that he was lord of the country, that he did not entertain the slightest doubt as to his fidelity, and many similar phrases; but instead of instructing karamalla to quit dara, he sent orders for abu anga to officially occupy the district. yusef, imagining that the khalifa had fully confirmed him in his position, and finding that karamalla was now in occupation of hillet shieria and toweisha, as well as dara, determined to drive him out of the country; an army was collected. his chief, magdum said bros, attacked the posts of shieria and toweisha, which were completely destroyed; and karamalla, after suffering very heavy losses, was forced to retire on shakka. in this engagement, karamalla lost most of his best fighting sheikhs, amongst them hassan abu taher, ali mohammed, and others--all danagla--who had fought under yusef shellali and gessi pasha in the bahr el ghazal; but the khalifa had so many enemies the less. madibbo was brought to kordofan, and handed over to abu anga, who had an old account to settle with him. when serving under suleiman wad zubeir, he fell, on one occasion, into the hands of madibbo, who was very hostile to him, and forced him to carry a huge box of ammunition on his head during several days' march, and, when he complained about it, mercilessly flogged and abused him. when madibbo was brought before abu anga, he had little hope of his life; but he determined to try and obtain justice, affirming that he had not fought against the mahdi, but had been forced to take up arms by karamalla. but of what use were all his excuses and proofs of innocence, or his fidelity?--the only answer he received from abu anga was: "and yet i will kill you." madibbo, now convinced of the uselessness of his pleading, resigned himself to his fate, and, despairing of his life, said, "it is not you who will kill me, but god. i have not asked for mercy, but for justice; however, a slave like you can never become noble. the traces of the lashes of my whip, which may still be seen on your back, were well deserved. in whatever form death may come upon me, it will always find me calm and a man. i am madibbo, and the tribes know me." abu anga ordered him to be sent back to prison, but forbore to have him flogged; and, the following morning, he had him executed in front of his whole army. madibbo was true to his word. standing in an open space, with a chain round his neck, he sneered at the soldiers who galloped up to him, shaking their lances over his head. when told to kneel down to receive the death-blow, he called on the people who stood round to report faithfully after his death how he had borne himself; a moment afterwards all was over. thus ended madibbo, one of the ablest arab sheikhs in the sudan. when his head was brought into omdurman, there was general mourning amongst the rizighat arabs, who had years before quitted their country as pilgrims. even the khalifa himself regretted his death; but as the deed had been done, he would not blame his greatest emir. he therefore concealed his indignation; but to me he remarked that had abu anga not killed him, madibbo might have done him many a valuable service. yunes was now apparently quite happy. he had gone from abu haraz to gedaref and gallabat, where he had settled down; and, as his authority was an extended one, and the people over whom he ruled were turbulent, he asked the khalifa's permission to undertake a campaign against the abyssinians, and abdullahi, having received no answer from king john to his peaceful letters, gave his consent. his troops, under arabi dafalla, now attacked the villages along the frontier, destroyed several of them, killing the men and carrying off their wives and children as captives. by the rapidity of their movements, committing wholesale robberies one day, and making murderous raids twenty miles distant the next, they had become a perfect scourge to the abyssinians; but, in spite of all this, the latter still continued their commercial relations with yunes, who, by his amicable treatment of them in gallabat, had induced them to come in larger numbers to sell the produce of their country, such as coffee, honey, wax, tomatoes, ostriches, etc., as well as horses, mules, and slaves. the market-place lay just beyond the town; and when one day an exceptionally large caravan of merchants, consisting of gebertas (abyssinian moslems) and makada (abyssinian christians) arrived at gallabat, the rapacity of yunes could not be controlled, and, on the pretext that they had come as spies of ras adal, he threw them into chains, and seized all their goods. they were then sent under escort to omdurman, where the ignorant mob imagined them to be the spoil of a great victory; while the khalifa, ever ready to increase his and his people's prestige, publicly dubbed yunes "afrit el mushrikin" (the devil of the polytheists), and mismar ed din (the nail of the faith). yunes had been careful to send him all the prettiest of the abyssinian girls taken in the various raids, as well as a number of horses and mules; thus, greedy of more victories, he decided to unite the army of yunes and abu anga, and attack king john, who, by not answering his letters, had mortally offended him. in the meantime yunes was instructed to remain strictly on the defensive. abu anga now received instructions to despatch fifteen hundred of his men, all armed with remington rifles, to osman wad adam, who had been appointed emir of kordofan and darfur; but he himself was ordered to come to omdurman with the remainder of his troops. latterly, sheikh saleh el kabbashi had been left undisturbed at the wells of om badr; but, knowing that he would be attacked sooner or later, he despatched to wadi halfa fifty of his most faithful slaves with letters begging the support of the egyptian government; and the faithful saleh's agent obtained two hundred remington rifles, forty boxes of ammunition, £ in cash, and some beautifully embossed revolvers. at this time, there resided at assuan a german merchant named charles neufeld, who had previously made the acquaintance of dafalla egail, a brother of elias pasha who had recently escaped from the sudan; from him he learnt that in northern kordofan there was a large quantity of gum which the merchants had been unable to dispose of, in consequence of the rebellion, and which could easily be brought to wadi halfa with the assistance of sheikh saleh. enticed by this pleasant prospect of making money, and filled with a love of adventure, he resolved to join saleh's people, in order to travel with them to their sheikh. he had apparently no difficulty in obtaining permission from the government to proceed on his journey, promising that he would send detailed accounts of the situation in the sudan; and, early in april, , he left wadi halfa with the caravan. nejumi, who had full information of the departure of the caravan, now had all the roads carefully watched; and, to add to their misfortunes, their guide lost his way, and the caravan suffered considerably from thirst. when, at length, they approached some wells near el kab, they found them in possession of a party of dervishes who were on the lookout for them. a fight ensued in which saleh's people, exhausted and thirsty, were utterly defeated; most of them were killed by rifle fire, and the remainder, neufeld amongst them, were captured. at the beginning of the action, neufeld had seized a rifle, and, with his abyssinian female attendant, had taken up a position a short distance from the caravan; and here, on some rising ground, he had determined to sell his life dearly; but he was not attacked. when the fighting was over, they offered him pardon, which he accepted, and was then taken off to nejumi in dongola. the latter had all the captives beheaded, with the exception of neufeld, who was spared in order that he might be sent to omdurman. i had heard privately that an european captive was about to arrive; and, consequently, i was not surprised when, one day in may, , i saw a crowd of people approaching the khalifa's house, and, in their midst, under escort, rode an european on a camel. it was generally rumoured that he was the pasha of wadi halfa. at that period, the buildings in omdurman were not very far advanced, and between the wall of the khalifa's house and the wall of the mosque was a large rekuba built of straw, which served as a house for the mulazemin; and into this neufeld, after dismounting, was ushered. i held aloof, as i well understood the nature of my master and his spies; and i pretended to be quite indifferent to what was going on. the khalifa, on neufeld's arrival, had sent for the two khalifas and the kadis, taher el magzub, the emir bekhit, and nur angara, who had just arrived in omdurman from kordofan, where he had been fighting under abu anga; yakub had also been summoned. as they entered, i whispered to nur angara, "do your utmost to save the man." to my delight, the khalifa now summoned me, and ordered me to sit with his advisers. he informed us that the man had been brought in as an english spy; and he instructed sheik el taher magzub to question him. i at once asked to be allowed to speak to him in european language; and, the request being granted, i went with taher into the rekuba. when my name was mentioned, neufeld shook my hand with great delight. i at once drew his attention to the fact that he must address himself to sheikh taher, who was the principal personage to judge him, and that he should behave as submissively as possible. he spoke arabic very well; and his extreme readiness to talk made a bad impression on those present, who ordered me to take him before the khalifa, their general opinion being, "he is a spy, and should be killed." once in the presence of the khalifa, the latter said to me, "and what is your opinion?" "all i know is," i replied, "that he is a german, and, consequently, belongs to a nation which takes no interest in egypt." i could see the khalifa watching me very carefully as he handed me some papers, and ordered me to look through them: they included a list of medicines written in german, and a letter to neufeld in english, regarding news received in the sudan; also a long letter from general stephenson, in which he was granted permission to proceed to the sudan with the caravan, and, at the same time, requested to give the fullest accounts of the state of affairs in the country. i translated this letter, but omitted the general's request for information. "sire," i said, "this letter shows that he has asked permission of the government to make this journey, and that he is a merchant, as he told sheikh taher." again the khalifa looked suspiciously at me, and then ordered us to withdraw and await his further commands outside the house. an immense crowd had by this time collected near the rekuba to see the english pasha; and, in a few moments, some of the black mulazemin whom the khalifa had summoned, came out, and, having tied his wrists together, ordered neufeld to leave the rekuba. the kadi, nur angara, and i had climbed up on a heap of bricks, and from this position could see exactly what was going on. neufeld, who evidently thought his last hour had come, raised his eyes to heaven, and knelt down, without having received any order to do so, and was at once ordered to get up. meanwhile, a man arrived, carrying an ombeÿa, and began to make its melancholy notes resound over neufeld's head; i was delighted to see that this did not appear to disturb him in the least; his poor servant, in her devotion to her master, now rushed out of the rekuba, and begged to be killed with him; but she was at once driven back. the kadi and i quite realised that the khalifa was playing with neufeld, just as a cat plays with a mouse; and, as sentence had not yet been given, i endeavoured to signal to him; but he did not appear to quite understand me. in a few moments, we were again summoned before the khalifa. "then you are for having the man killed?" said the khalifa to sheikh taher, who replied in the affirmative. "and you?" he said, turning to nur angara, who, in a few brief words, recalled neufeld's bravery, and begged to have him pardoned. "and now, abdel kader, what have you to say?" he said, turning to me. "sire," i replied, "the man deserves to be killed, and any other ruler but yourself would have had him killed; but, of your magnanimity and mercy, you will spare him; for he says he has turned mohammedan, and your mercy will strengthen his faith." kadi ahmed was also for pardoning him; and now the khalifa, who, i saw from the first moment, had no intention of killing neufeld, ordered his fetters to be removed, and that he should be taken back to the rekuba; but, that afternoon, he said to the kadi, "let him be shown to the crowd beneath the scaffold, and then imprison him till further orders; and as for you," he said, turning to me, "you will have no more intercourse with him." we now all withdrew, but took occasion to tell neufeld that, although he had been pardoned, he was to be shown to the populace that afternoon under the scaffold. the kadi carried out his instructions; and, to the delight of the mob, neufeld's head was placed in the noose by the saier. the following day, the khalifa summoned me before him, and informed me that nejumi had reported that neufeld had been induced by the government to go and join sheikh saleh el kabbashi, and assist him in fighting the mahdists. i explained that this could not possibly be true, and that neufeld's papers were all in order. moreover, i said that the government would never have taken upon itself to do such a thing. for the time being, i think he credited my explanation; but he revenged himself by showing the most marked mistrust and contempt for me for some time. a few days afterwards, the khalifa held a great review; and neufeld, whose feet were in irons, was mounted on a camel, and taken to see it. the khalifa asked him what he thought of his troops; and he replied that, although they were very numerous, they were not well trained, and that the discipline in the egyptian army was much better. the khalifa, who did not appreciate candid speaking, at once had him sent back to prison. osman wad adam, who had received the khalifa's orders either to capture or kill saleh kabbashi, now sent an expedition under fadlalla aglan; and greger, sheikh of the hamada arabs, was given to him as a guide. the latter was well known to be saleh's mortal enemy. the kababish had quitted the wells of the hamada, and had moved eastward into the desert, in order to await the arrival of the caravan sent to wadi halfa; and now, when the disaster which had overtaken it became known, several of the tribesmen whom saleh had collected dispersed, and many returned to omdurman. saleh, now deprived of all hope of assistance from his own countrymen, was no longer able to make any determined opposition. he therefore fled, with his family and near relatives, but was overtaken at a well and killed. on the approach of his enemies, he bowed to his destiny; and, seated on a sheepskin which had been spread on the ground for him by his slaves, he patiently awaited death. his enemy, greger, jumping off his horse, approached him, and blew out his brains with his pistol. thus ended the last of the sheikhs faithful to government. about the middle of june, news arrived that abu anga had reached the nile at tura el hadra with an army of between nine and ten thousand men, all armed with rifles, and about an equal number of cavalry. it was expected that he would be at omdurman about the end of the month. the khalifa used frequently to ride out to the lines near tabia regeb bey, and employ himself pointing out the limits which the camp should occupy; and, on these occasions, i used to accompany him on foot. during one of these excursions, i cut my foot when walking by the khalifa's side, and could scarcely proceed. seeing me limping, and my foot bleeding profusely, he dismounted at fadl el maula's house, and called me up before him, praised me for my perseverance, and gave me the horse which fadl el maula himself had presented to him, telling me that in any future rides i could mount it, and, as usual, remain near him. towards the end of june, abu anga arrived, and, when about two hours distant from omdurman, pitched his camp. that night, the khalifa received him alone in his house, no witnesses being present. the conference lasted till long past midnight; and then abu anga returned to his camp. at dawn the next morning, the beating of war-drums and the sound of the ombeÿa proclaimed that the khalifa intended to be present on the entry of abu anga's army into omdurman. just after sunrise, he rode out, accompanied by all his emirs and an immense crowd, to the parade ground, at the east end of which a tent had been pitched. khalifa abdullahi, the other khalifas, and the kadis now entered this tent; and, soon after, the approach of abu anga and his army was heralded by the sound of trumpets and drums. the entire force passed the khalifa twice in review; and he was delighted with the immense number of the troops. summoning the emirs before him, he called down god's blessing on their heads, and then ordered them to take their troops to the allotted camping ground. now followed a period of the wildest debauchery, in which his soldiers and subjects squandered the booty taken in kordofan at weddings and banquets; in so doing, they deviated widely from the stringent orders of the mahdi in such matters; but this did not seem to displease the khalifa. abu anga himself, who had brought considerable sums of money, as well as quantities of male and female slaves, for his master and his brother yakub, now distributed presents freely amongst his friends and acquaintances. he sent me my old servant and his wife; but he did not return my other servants, horses, and effects which had been taken from me during my imprisonment. a few weeks afterwards, the khalifa celebrated the feast of bairam on the largest scale i have ever seen. hundreds of thousands of the faithful repeated prayers with the khalifa on the parade ground; and he then returned in state to his house, under the thunder of guns and the wildest acclamations of his subjects, who crowded through the streets in such numbers that several were killed and trampled under foot by the horses. the emir merdi abu rof, of the gehéna tribe, now received instructions to come with all his tribe and cattle to omdurman; but, having refused to obey the summons, it was decided that he should be punished, and made an example to others. a large portion of abu anga's army, under the orders of zeki tummal, abdalla wad ibrahim, and ismail delendok, was ordered to march against them and destroy them. the gehéna tribe, generally called by the arabs the abu rof, and celebrated for their thoroughbred horses and camels, were also known to possess very fine male and female slaves. the well known proverb, "gehéna el ol--ashra fi sol" (there are ten gehéna children to every man), faithfully represented the tribe. in the fighting which ensued, their emirs, merdi abu rof and mohammed wad melek, fell, as well as their former sheikh, and the greater part of the tribe was annihilated. the finest of the young women and children captured were selected and sent as presents to the khalifa; but the remainder were brought to omdurman, where they eked out a miserable existence by becoming water-carriers, or makers of straw mats. their great herds of cattle went for almost nothing in the bazaars; and the price of an ox or a camel, which formerly varied between forty and sixty dollars, fell to two or three dollars. after the destruction of this tribe, abu anga received orders to proceed from omdurman to gallabat, and take the command of the troops there. collecting the forces from the southern districts at abu haraz, he proceeded to his destination, and arrived just in time to save yunes. one of yunes's postmen had asserted that he was saidna isa (jesus christ), and obtained a numerous following; many really believed in him, whilst others were extremely dissatisfied with yunes, who had become so mercenary that he began to rob even his own people. eleven of the principal emirs, amongst them the keeper of the ammunition stores, now sided with isa, and made a plot to assassinate yunes; the day for carrying it into execution had been actually arranged, when abu anga suddenly arrived. his generous nature had given him many friends; and, in a few days, he was fully informed of the whole affair, and instantly arrested the conspirators. yunes, utterly ignorant that any plot was hatching, complained to abu anga about the arrest of his emirs, and asked for an explanation of his proceedings. "because they intended to murder you," was abu anga's simple reply. when the assassins were brought before the kadi, they did not deny their intentions; and their leader declared most firmly that he was jesus christ, and that, in a short time, this fact would be revealed to the world. abu anga now despatched a special messenger to omdurman for orders; and the khalifa, greatly alarmed, wished to keep the whole matter secret. he summoned yakub and kadi ahmed to consult with him; and it was agreed that all the conspirators should be executed. i heard all about the matter from mohammed wad esh shertier, who had been forbidden the khalifa's house, and had orders to leave the same day for gallabat. the following day, however, the khalifa changed his mind, having realised that of the eleven emirs, ten belonged to the powerful western tribes; and not only would their loss to him be considerable, but he feared their relatives and friends might turn against him. he therefore sent camel-men, in hot haste, with a reprieve, and with orders that the prisoners should be brought to omdurman under escort. the camel-men, however, failed to overtake shertier who had had two days' start; and they arrived in gallabat to find the eleven bodies hanging on the scaffold; all had died faithful to their jesus christ. yunes, being a relative of the khalifa, only submitted to abu anga owing to his superior force, but always looked upon him as his slave, though, as a matter of fact, he was infinitely braver and more courageous. yunes now reproached him for having been precipitate, and from this episode arose an estrangement between the two men, which ended in yunes being recalled to omdurman, where he was commanded to perform his devotions daily in the front row in the mosque. [illustration: an abyssinian scout.] abu anga now collected all his forces, in order to revenge the defeat of wad arbab. he had at his disposal the largest force which had ever been collected by khalifa abdullahi: according to the rolls brought in, he had upwards of fifteen thousand rifles, forty-five thousand spearmen, and eight hundred cavalry; and quitting gallabat with this force, he marched through the mintik (pass) towards ras adal. up to this day, i have failed to understand why the abyssinians did not attack their enemy whilst crossing the narrow passes and deep valleys, in which it would have been most difficult to use fire-arms with effect; if they had not succeeded in checking the advance in this manner, they would have at least inflicted very heavy losses on the dervishes. i can only conceive that the abyssinians made certain of their ultimate success, and purposely enticed their enemies far into the country, with the object of cutting off their retreat, and utterly annihilating them. fighting began on the plain of debra sin. ras adal had about two thousand rifles, and had taken up a position threatening abu anga's left; but the latter had sufficient time to clear the hills, and arrange his troops in battle array. attacked over and over again by the abyssinians, the dervishes drove them off with frightful loss; and abu anga, taking the offensive, succeeded in gaining a complete victory. so sure were the abyssinians of gaining the day, that they had taken up a position in front of a river; and now many of them, in their flight, were drowned while attempting to cross it. for a short time, the abyssinian cavalry was to some extent successful; but, after suffering considerable loss, they fled with ras adal. the entire abyssinian camp, consisting of quantities of tents, fell into the hands of abu anga, who captured ras adal's wife and grown-up daughter, and in this victory practically conquered the whole of the amhara province. he advanced without delay on gondar, where he expected to find great treasures, but was disappointed; for, with the exception of some goods belonging to the geberta, and some large stores of coffee, honey, and wax, which were of no value to him, as he had no means of transport, he got practically nothing. in the large and lofty stone building said to have been erected by the portuguese, they found one poor old coptic priest, who was thrown out of the highest story into the street below. staying here only one day, abu anga ordered the town to be fired, and, on his way back, attacked and looted villages right and left, killing the men and seizing the women and children as captives; the geberta, and some little boys alone, were spared and carried off as booty. in this manner thousands of abyssinian women and girls were driven in front of the army, urged on by the lash. on arrival at gallabat, a fifth of the loot was sent to the khalifa, and several hundred women were despatched to the beit el mal in omdurman, where they were sold to the highest bidders. the road between gallabat and abu haraz was strewn with corpses, and amongst them the daughter and young son of ras adal. abu anga, in accordance with the khalifa's instructions, now began to put gallabat into a state of defence; for, in spite of the success just gained, they knew that the abyssinians would seek revenge. but he did not long survive his victory; although only fifty-two years of age, he suffered from constant illness, and was always trying to cure himself. he had grown immensely stout, owing to the good living in which he indulged, which contrasted greatly with what he had been formerly accustomed to; he suffered much from indigestion, and used to treat himself with a poisonous root which came from dar fertit. one day, however, he took an overdose, and in the morning was found dead in his bed. in him, the khalifa lost his best emir, who, though by descent a slave, had, through his liberality and kindness, gained the affection of all who knew him, as well as the esteem and regard of his subjects, who admired his personal courage and sense of justice. he was mourned by his entire force,--by arabs as well as by blacks,--who recognised in him a strict though just master, and one who, though he punished very severely any offences against his orders, was ever ready to help those in need. he was buried in his red-brick house; and many of his servants and slaves worshipped him as a saint. at the same time that abu anga had left omdurman for gallabat, osman wad adam had received instructions to move with his whole force towards shakka and darfur. at this time, a garrison was not required in kordofan: for sheikh saleh had been killed, and the land of the gimeh was deserted; the gowama had been ordered to immigrate to omdurman; and the resistance of the southern mountains had been broken down by abu anga. karamalla, after having been driven back to shakka, had persistently demanded tribute from the rizighat arabs, who, however, recognising that he was not all-powerful, rose as one man in mutiny against him, and with such success that at length both kerkesawi and karamalla, who were in want of ammunition, were practically besieged at shakka and injileila. they now begged the khalifa's help; and though the latter had originally intended not to assist them, he was by no means anxious to lose all his armed slaves. this was the reason for osman wad adam's despatch to shakka. on arrival, he wrote letters to the rizighat, who were fighting rather personally against karamalla than against the mahdist rule, ordering them to suspend hostilities, and promising that he would give them justice. fearful of osman's power, they reluctantly complied; but karamalla, under the pretext of making peace negotiations, enticed their sheikh into his zariba, and there executed him. osman now moved forward by forced marches, not only on account of karamalla, but in fear of a mutiny on the part of sultan yusef, who, for a long time, had sent no consignments of horses and slaves, and was evidently beginning to feel himself sufficiently powerful to overturn the khalifa's authority. osman's arrival at shakka relieved karamalla and his garrison from a very dangerous position; he then assured the arabs, who were clamouring for justice, that he would settle their case as soon as he had subdued darfur. his total force, including karamalla's men, now numbered some five thousand rifles, and with these he marched against dara. he had previously written to sultan yusef, ordering him to join him, and informing him that in the event of his refusal, he would treat him as a rebel. to this summons he received a reply that, as he had joined his sworn enemy, karamalla, it was impossible to come; at the same time, news reached him that sultan yusef was concentrating his forces at fasher. on his arrival at dara, osman found the place deserted; but, on the following day, he was attacked by said mudda, and only succeeded in driving him off after a very closely contested fight. a week later, he was again attacked by the sultan's old vizir, hussein ibrahim, and rahma gamo, who had collected said mudda's people, and had received reinforcements as well; but these also were forced to retire. osman now marched on el fasher. had sultan yusef attacked him with his entire force at dara, he would in all probability have defeated him, and darfur would thus have been freed forever; but he had previously divided his army, his vizirs were hated, and his own people had lost heart after their recent defeats. a fight took place near wad berag, south of fasher; and osman gained an easy victory. sultan yusef fled, but was overtaken at kebkebia and killed; whilst fasher, in which all his wives and relations had been collected, as well as a quantity of goods belonging to fezzan and wadai merchants, also numbers of women and children, fell into osman's hands. thus darfur, which had been practically lost to the mahdists, was re-taken by them in the same month (january, ), just at the time that abu anga had gained his great victory over the abyssinians. in this short campaign the darfurians had shown great fidelity to their native ruler; and osman, fearing to expose himself to continual difficulties by supporting their dynastic sentiments, determined that all males of royal blood should either be put in irons, executed, or sent to omdurman, where they were placed amongst the khalifa's mulazemin, and treated as slaves. all female members of the royal family were declared to be "khums" (a fifth of the booty), and put at the khalifa's disposal. some of these he took into his own harem; and the remainder he distributed as "suria" (concubines) amongst his followers. he liberated, however, the two old sisters of sultan ibrahim, namely, miriam isa basi and miriam bakhita; the latter was the wife of kadi ali, who was then in omdurman. whilst these momentous events were transpiring in the east and west of the sudan empire, the khalifa governed the country at omdurman in a most tyrannical and despotic manner. he mistrusted every one. numbers of spies were employed by his brother yakub; and their duty was to tell him of everything that went on in the city. he was kept fully informed of the general temper of the people; and should any persons express doubt about the truth of the mahdi's divine mission, they were punished with special severity. it happened, one day, that a sailor used some irreverent expression regarding mahdism, and was reported to the khalifa. the plaintiff, who was a fanatical baggari, had, however, no witnesses, those who were present at the time admitting to the khalifa that they were too far off to hear what passed; but the latter determined to make an example. he therefore summoned the kadi, and ordered him to force a confession out of the accused, at the same time advising him how to set about it. two persons were then sent to the prisoner, to apprise him that witnesses had been found; but that if he made a confession of his own free-will, and admitted that he was sorry, before the witnesses had been questioned, the khalifa would mitigate his sentence, and would probably pardon him. the poor man failed to see the trap that had been laid for him, made a confession, and begged the khalifa's pardon. the confession was taken down in writing, and submitted to abdullahi, who ordered the sentence--which was execution--to be carried out in accordance with the mahdi's code. the khalifa, in giving sentence, said that had the insult been against his own person, he would have forgiven him; but the prisoner, having sinned against the mahdi, he would be committing a crime if he mitigated it in the slightest degree. that afternoon, the khalifa gave orders for the ombeÿa to be sounded, while the dull beats of the great mansura (war-drum) boomed through the city, and he himself rode with an immense escort to the parade ground. on his arrival, his sheepskin was spread on the ground; and on this he sat, facing the east, whilst the kadi and others stood behind him in a semi-circle. he then ordered the accused to be brought before him. already his hands had been tied behind his back; but he showed not the slightest signs of fear. when within a hundred paces of the khalifa, he was decapitated by ahmed dalia, the chief executioner. soon after this, a certain fiki called nur en nebi (the light of the prophet), who had collected a considerable number of disciples, preached to them about the necessity for religious zeal, and urged them not to be led away by innovations. yakub reported this to the khalifa, with the result that the fiki was at once arrested, and brought before the kadi. the necessary witnesses were procured; and the fiki openly declared before them that he was a good mohammedan, but not a follower of the mahdi. by command of the khalifa, the judges ordered him to be laden with chains; his hands tied behind his back; and, under the deafening shouts of the mob, he was dragged to the market-place, where he was hanged on the scaffold erected there. i remember looking at the body, whilst suspended from the gallows, and was struck by the calm and smiling expression on the face of this man who had died for his convictions. several hundred houses, surrounding the abode of the murdered man, were confiscated; their inmates arrested, bound, and carried off to prison; but, through the intervention of adlan, they were subsequently liberated. the khalifa now issued a proclamation to the effect that all the inhabitants of the city were responsible for the actions of their neighbours; and persons found involved in political or religious intrigues were threatened with the most condign punishment. on mere suspicion, several of the natives of the nile valley were thrown into chains, and deprived of all they possessed. thus did he deal with all suspected persons, and at the same time considerably enriched his treasury. [illustration: a slave dhow on the nile.] on another occasion, he had a meeting of the kadis, and told them, in confidence, that, in his opinion, all vessels on the nile were really "ghanima" (booty); for, as he truthfully remarked, whilst he was in kordofan, the owners had, in spite of his frequent appeals, invariably refused to assist the mahdi's cause. they had not only failed to attack the government steamers on the river, but had also frequently provided the government stations with grain and wood. of course the kadis fully concurred in his opinion; and, the following morning, they received a letter from ibrahim adlan, asking them whether all vessels were not state property. the all-powerful judges replied in the affirmative, supporting their answer by extracts from the mahdi's code, according to which the owners were to be considered mukhalafin (obstinate persons). this pamphlet was read publicly, in the presence of the khalifa, who remarked, in conclusion, that those vessels alone were exempt which did not float, or which were not built of the wood of the forests, which were all the property of the state. these vessels, numbering upwards of nine hundred, of from twenty to five hundred ardebs carrying capacity, now all passed into the possession of the beit el mal; and, as they were almost without exception the property of jaalin and danagla, who lived on the river, the means of support of these unfortunate people was entirely gone. the boats were now utilised by ibrahim adlan to carry cargoes of grain to the beit el mal; or they were hired out annually at a high rate, to persons who were considered worthy of this confidence. in order to show his veneration for the mahdi, the khalifa decided to erect a monument to him, as is the custom in egypt; but this he did rather to satisfy his own vanity, than out of respect for his late master. a square building was erected, some thirty feet high, and thirty-six feet each way; and the stone for this construction, of which the walls were upwards of six feet thick, had to be brought all the way from khartum. above this a hexagonal wall fifteen feet high was built, from which rose a dome forty feet high. on the corners of the main building were four smaller domes. this was called kubbet el mahdi (mahdi's dome). it was furnished with ten large arched windows, and two doors; and in the hexagonal portion were six skylights. it was whitewashed all over, and surrounded by a trellis-work fence; the windows and doors were made by the workmen in the khartum arsenal; while directly beneath the dome, and over the mahdi's grave, a wooden sarcophagus was erected, covered with black cloth. on the sides of the walls, candelabra were hung; while, suspended by a long chain from the centre of the dome, was an immense chandelier taken from the government palace in khartum. the sombre appearance of the inside of the building was relieved by some gaudy painting on the walls. a few yards from the building is a small cistern, built of red bricks cemented together; and this is used by the visitors for their religious ablutions. the plans for this building were devised by an old government official who had been formerly employed as an architect; but, of course, public opinion dutifully attributed the design to the khalifa. the ceremony of laying the foundation-stone of this building was conducted with great unction by the khalifa, who "turned the first sod." accompanied by a crowd of upwards of thirty thousand people, he proceeded to the river bank, where the stones were heaped up, and, lifting one of them on his shoulder, carried it to the spot, his example being followed by every individual person in this vast assemblage; the noise and confusion were perfectly indescribable. numbers of accidents happened; but those injured thought it fortunate to suffer on such an occasion. the building was not completed till the following year, and entailed a considerable amount of labour, though little expense; and, during its construction, the khalifa frequently asserted that angels lent their assistance. an egyptian, hearing this, and aware that many of his compatriots were masons, was constrained to remark to them, "you are probably the khalifa's angels, and require neither food, drink, nor payment." had the khalifa heard this, he would undoubtedly have removed this wag's head. [illustration: the mahdi's tomb.] as usual, i was always in close attendance on the khalifa; and, as a token of his good-will, he presented me with one of the abyssinian girls sent by abu anga. her mother and brother had been killed before her eyes; and the poor creature had been torn from their bodies, and driven into captivity at the end of the lash. although not treated as a slave by my people, who did all they could to lighten her sad lot, she never seemed bright or happy; she continually brooded over her losses and her home, until, at length, death released her from her sufferings. occasionally father ohrwalder used to visit me secretly; but, as the khalifa did not approve of our meeting, his visits were few and far between. we used to talk of our home, and of our present wretched existence; but we never lost hope that, sooner or later, our captivity would come to an end. abu girga, who commanded at kassala, was now ordered to proceed to osman digna, and assist him in his fighting; leaving ahmed wad ali as his representative at kassala, he was summoned to omdurman to report to the khalifa on the state of the arab tribes in the eastern sudan. he arrived late one evening, and was at once received in long private audience by the khalifa; and, on withdrawing, hurriedly told me that he had given him a letter from my family in europe. a few minutes later, i was called in, and informed that the governor of suakin has sent a letter to osman digna, which was supposed to be from my family, and which he had sent on. in handing me this letter, the khalifa ordered me to open it at once, and acquaint him with its contents. i glanced through it hurriedly, and, to my intense grief and sorrow, saw that it was an announcement from my brothers and sisters that my poor mother had died, and that, on her death-bed, she had expressed an earnest hope that we should all be re-united. the khalifa, impatient that i took so long to read it, again asked me who had written it, and what were its contents. "it is from my brothers and sisters," i replied; "and i will translate it to you." i had no reason to conceal its contents; it was merely a few lines from distressed brothers and sisters to their distant brother. i told him how disturbed they were about me; and how they were ready to make any sacrifice in order that i should regain my liberty. when i came to the part about my mother, it required all my self-control; i told him that, owing to my absence, her death was not so peaceful as it might have been, and that during her long illness, her constant prayer to god had been that she might see me again. her prayer, alas, had not been answered; and now this letter had brought me her last greeting, and her tender hopes for my welfare. my throat felt parched and dry, and had not the khalifa suddenly interrupted me, i must have broken down. "your mother was not aware that i honour you more than any one else," said he; "otherwise she certainly would not have been in such trouble about you; but i forbid you to mourn for her. she died as a christian and an unbeliever in the prophet and the mahdi, and cannot therefore expect god's mercy." the blood rushed to my head; and, for a moment, i could say nothing; but gradually regaining my self-control, i continued to read on that my brother henry was now married, and that adolf and my sisters were quite well. finally, they begged me to let them know how i could obtain my liberty, and urged me to write to them. "write and tell one at least of your brothers to come here," said the khalifa, when i had finished the letter. "i would honour him, and he should want for nothing; but i will talk to you about this another time." he then signed to me with his hand; and i withdrew. my comrades, who had already heard that a letter had arrived for me, were very inquisitive, and asked me all manner of questions; but i answered them only briefly, and, as soon as the khalifa had retired to rest, i went home. i flung myself down on my angareb, and my servants, much concerned, asked me what was the matter; but i told them to leave me. "poor mother, then it was i who made your last hours so unhappy!" my brothers and sisters had written her last words: "i am ready to die; but i should have loved to see and embrace my rudolf once more. the thought that he is in the hands of his enemies makes my departure from this world very difficult for me." how well i remembered her words when i left for the sudan: "my son, my rudolf, your restless spirit drives you out into the world! you are going to distant and almost unknown lands. a time, perhaps, will come when you will long for us, and a quiet life." how true had been her words,--poor mother! how much trouble i must have given her! and then i cried and cried,--not about my position, but for my dear mother, who could never be replaced. the next morning, the khalifa sent for me, and again made me translate the letter to him; and he ordered me to reply at once that i was perfectly happy in my present position. i did as i was told, and wrote a letter praising the khalifa, and saying how happy i was to be near him; but i put inverted commas against many words and sentences, and points of exclamation, and wrote at the bottom of the letter that all words and sentences thus marked should be read in exactly the opposite sense. at the same time, i asked my brothers and sisters to write a letter of thanks to the khalifa in arabic, and to send him a travelling-bag, and to me two hundred pounds, and twelve common watches, suitable for presents; as, on certain seasons of the year, the emirs attended the feasts in omdurman, and would greatly appreciate them. i also asked them to send me a translation of the kuran in german, and advised them not to worry for the present; but that i hoped to find some means of being re-united to them. i told them to send the things, through the austrian consul-general in cairo, to the governor of suakin, by whom they would be forwarded to osman digna. i handed this letter to the khalifa, who gave it to some postmen who were going to osman digna with instructions to send it to suakin. about a month before i received the sad news of my mother's death, i had to deplore the loss of one of my comrades in captivity, lupton. he had been working in the dock-yard at khartum until recently; but the feeble state of his health had obliged him to ask to be relieved from this position. he had then returned to omdurman, and had suffered great want; but, to his relief, saleh wad haj ali, with whom he was on very friendly terms, returned from cairo, and brought him some money which he had received from lupton's family. haj ali naturally tried to make as much money out of the transaction as he could. he had advanced a sum of a hundred dollars to lupton as a loan, receiving from him, in return, a bill on his brother for two hundred pounds, which had been cashed on his arrival in cairo; and, returning again to omdurman, had paid lupton two hundred dollars, keeping the remainder, about eight hundred dollars, for himself. in spite of this robbery, this small sum delighted poor lupton, and helped him, for a short period, to stave off the miseries of living like a beggar. he also rejoiced that a medium of communication had been found with his relatives, whereby he eventually hoped to regain his freedom. these hopes, alas, were not to be realised. he had come home one tuesday morning from the mosque with me, and was consulting me as to whom he should entrust what remained of his two hundred dollars, so as to obtain small sums when he required them, as it was necessary for him to be most careful not to attract attention to himself by spending large sums, and thus endanger his communication with egypt. we talked of home and of our present situation; and he seemed more cheerful than usual, but complained of pains in his back, and of a general feeling of indisposition. i left him about midday; and, on the following tuesday, he sent his servant to me, begging me to go and see him, as he felt very ill. in reply to my question, the man told me that his master was in a high fever, and had been in bed for three days. i promised to come as quickly as possible, and, that evening, asked the khalifa's permission to go and see him. the next morning, having obtained leave to spend that day with the invalid, i at once went to his house, and found him in a dying condition. he was suffering from typhus fever; and already the illness had reached such a stage that he scarcely recognised me, and, in a few broken words, begged me to take care of his daughter. he then said something about his father and mother; but he was almost incoherent, and, at times, became quite unconscious. i understood, however, that he was begging me to be the bearer of his dying messages, should i ever succeed in escaping. on wednesday, the th may, , he passed away at midday, without having recovered consciousness. we washed him, wrapped him in a shroud, and, according to the usual custom, carried him to the mosque, where the prayers for the dead were recited; and then we buried him in a cemetery near the beit el mal. father ohrwalder, the majority of the greek colony, and a number of natives who had learnt to love and respect his noble and unassuming character, were present. i obtained the khalifa's permission to see to his household, and handed over his money to a greek merchant to take charge of for his daughter fanny, and thus save her from want. i also succeeded in getting a situation at the arsenal for one of his black boys whom he had educated, and who receives pay up to the present time. fanny's mother, zenoba, married, two years later, an egyptian doctor named haasan zeki; and, although i made frequent efforts to send her daughter to europe to be educated, my plans were always frustrated by the reluctance of mother and daughter to separate. under such circumstances, it can readily be understood that the girl fell into a thoroughly sudanese mode of life, adopting their ways and customs, and looking upon herself as a native. had she gone to europe,--and she could only have been sent there by force,--the effort to lead a life to which she was utterly unsuited, and away from her black mother, would have made her miserable. at this period of my narrative, the khalifa was in a peculiarly good humour. after the re-conquest of darfur, he had given orders that everything should be done to induce the arab tribes to undertake pilgrimages to omdurman, and, if necessary, to force them to do so. osman wad adam had sent notice that the khalifa's entire tribe,--the taaisha,--consisting of upwards of twenty-four thousand warriors, with their wives and families, had decided to immigrate to omdurman, and that several of them had already reached el fasher. thus, at length, the ardent wish of his heart--to gather his own tribe and relatives about him, and make them masters of the situation--was accomplished. nejumi was now in dongola with instructions to undertake offensive operations against egypt; but the final orders to move forward with the main body were frequently postponed. his army, however, was increased, from time to time, by the arrival of emirs whom the khalifa was anxious to remove from omdurman; and thus a fairly considerable force was gradually accumulating on the northern frontier of the mahdist empire. osman wad ed dekeim, the brother of yunes, was now sent to berber, which had hitherto been administered by a representative of the late mohammed kheir; and, reinforced by six hundred cavalry, he took over the reins of government. thus another district fell under the sway of one of the khalifa's own relatives. chapter xiii. the abyssinian campaign. battle of gallabat--death of king john--the revolt of abu gemmaiza--defeats of the mahdists--death of abu gemmaiza--preparations for the invasion of egypt--execution of sixty-seven batahin arabs--more letters from home--my family send the khalifa a dressing-bag from vienna--immigration of the taaisha tribe--they settle in the nile valley--nejumi advances into egypt--battle of toski--incidents during the great famine--the fall of ibrahim adlan--his execution--the khalifa mistrusts me--i fall into serious danger--i become the unwilling recipient of the khalifa's favours. it was not, however, to be supposed that the mahdist victories in the east and west would remain entirely undisputed. king john, who had been carrying on a war in the interior, now determined to avenge the attack on gondar, and therefore resolved to march against gallabat, and utterly destroy the enemies of his country and religion. on abu anga's death, the khalifa appointed one of his former subordinates, zeki tummal of the taaisha tribe, to take the command and to complete the fortifications of gallabat, which had already been begun. during abu anga's lifetime, his army had been divided into five parts, under the respective commands of ahmed wad ali, abdalla ibrahim, hamdan (one of abu anga's brothers), while zeki himself commanded some two thousand five hundred mulazemin. the force of yunes still remained under the command of ibrahim dafalla. king john now collected an immense army, and moved towards gallabat. the dervishes were in great consternation, and did all they could to strengthen their fortifications. king john's army was divided into two portions: one division was made up of his own tribe, the tigré, and king menelek's troops, under the command of ras alula; whilst the other portion consisted of the amhara legions under ras barambaras. arriving almost within range of gallabat, they pitched their camp, and began the attack the following morning. the lines of gallabat, which were some fifteen miles in circumference, were defended only at intervals by zeki's troops; and the amhara leader, being well informed by spies, made a determined attack on the western side, which was weakly held. after a short resistance, they succeeded in penetrating; and the remainder of the garrison were in the unpleasant position of having to defend themselves from the outside, whilst, within, the enemy was pillaging the town. had the amhara, instead of looting, attacked the garrison from the rear, they would no doubt have succeeded in capturing the position; but they concerned themselves only with pillaging and driving out of the town thousands of women and children. king john, who was in his tent, having received news that the amhara, whom he had frequently accused of cowardice, had succeeded in entering the lines, whilst his own tribe, the tigré, had failed, fell into a passion; and, ordering his followers to carry him on his seat--a small gold angareb covered with cushions and carpets--he was brought into the midst of the fighting line. the defenders, noticing a crowd of followers clothed in velvet and gold, directed their fire on them; and when king john had almost reached the defences, he was struck by a bullet, which, breaking his right arm above the elbow, entered his body. the courageous man, declaring that his injury was of no consequence, continued urging on his men, but soon fell back unconscious on his couch, and was carried to the rear by his followers, who had suffered great loss. the news that he was wounded spread amongst his troops like wildfire; and, though on the point of success, they retired. on the evening of the th march, , king john expired in his tent. an effort was made to keep his death secret; but the news gradually leaked out, and the amhara, deserting the camp in the night with all their loot, returned to their homes. ras alula, being the most important of the tigré chiefs, nominated hailo mariam as their temporary ruler; but fearing the possibility of dissensions breaking out amongst his unruly troops, he thought he had better return to his country, and therefore ordered a retreat. in fear and trembling, the mahdists awaited the renewal of the abyssinian attack the next morning; but when the sun rose, they found, to their surprise, that the white tents which had been visible the previous day had disappeared. zeki tummal now sent out troops to reconnoitre; and they returned with the joyful news that the abyssinians had retired. they had also learnt from the wounded that king john was dead. a council was immediately held, and, as the enemy had carried off a number of the mahdist women and cattle,--amongst them much of the late abu anga's property,--it was agreed that they should be pursued. the abyssinians had pitched their camp about half a day's journey from gallabat; already half the army was on the move; and ras alula, hailo mariam, the temporary negus, and other chiefs were on the point of breaking up the camp, when they were suddenly attacked by the dervishes. hailo mariam was killed at the tent-door, within which lay king john's body, already partly embalmed, in a wooden coffin. ras alula beat a hurried retreat, leaving the camp in the hands of his enemies. the dervishes captured an immense amount of booty, including horses, mules, arms, tents, coffee, etc.; they did not, however, succeed in re-capturing the women, who had already been carried on ahead. in hailo mariam's tent king john's crown was found. it is doubtful whether this was the imperial abyssinian crown, as it was made of silver gilt; his sword also was taken, as well as a letter to him from her majesty the queen of england. neither the attack on gallabat, nor the dervish defeat of the rear-guard the following day, had by any means broken the abyssinian army; but, owing to the accidental death of their king, the dervish victory had been most complete. the country now fell into a state of internecine warfare; there were several aspirants for the throne, and dissensions and quarrels put a stop to combined action. the italians had been in occupation of massawa since the beginning of , and had occupied some of the adjacent country. this fact re-acted satisfactorily on the dervish occupation of gallabat; for they were well aware that the abyssinians would be fully occupied with their european enemies; and once more they began raiding the amhara frontier. whilst the garrison of gallabat was in danger of destruction at the hands of king john, osman wad adam was in considerable peril in the west. on the death of sultan yusef, his troops raided the country in all directions, and his emirs were guilty of the greatest oppression and cruelty. thousands of women and children were declared to be ghanima (booty), and dragged to fasher by main force. the people were in despair; and the distress and anguish extended to the limits of dar tama. here a youth resided who hailed from omdurman, and probably belonged to one of the riverain tribes, but had been driven from his own home, and, under the shade of a wide spreading gemmaiza (wild fig) tree, sat and read the kuran. he had intended proceeding to bornu and the fellata country,--as far away as possible from the tyrannical sudan,--when some of the unfortunate people who had been robbed of all they possessed, came and told him of their misfortunes. a party of dervishes, they said, had arrived at the neighbouring village, had seized their cattle, and were about to carry them off, together with the women and girls of the village, under the pretext that they had been ordered to undertake a pilgrimage to fasher, and had not done so. "if you do not wish to fight for your wives and children, for what then will you fight?" asked the young man. "do you not know that he who falls fighting for his women and children goes straight to paradise?" the effect of these words on the people resembled a spark falling into a barrel of gunpowder. hastening back to their village, they demanded the instant liberation of their families; and when this was refused, they fought for it. the mahdists were annihilated; and the infuriated villagers mutilated their bodies. their example was followed by other villages with equal success; and, in a few days, dar tama had shaken itself free from its enemies. but who was the originator of this movement which had already been so successful? it was the young man under the gemmaiza tree, who lived there as a hermit, subsisting only on some dry bread and a little grain. a pilgrimage to see him was at once organised; the people called him abu gemmaiza, adored him as a saint, and looked upon him as the liberator of the fatherland. the emir abdel kader wad delil, who was then residing at kebkebia, and had heard of the massacre of his men, now advanced on dar tama, determined to avenge it; but he was defeated, and barely escaped with his life. khatem musa, on his way from fasher, suffered a like fate. osman wad adam, furious at the losses he had sustained, resolved to annihilate his enemies, and, with this object in view, despatched his assistant, mohammed wad bishara, and a large number of his mulazemin to kebkebia, to unite with wad delil and khatem; but scarcely had he arrived, when he was attacked by the hosts of abu gemmaiza, who were marching on fasher. defeated with great loss, he fell back on that town. adam now fully realised the seriousness of the situation, and summoned a council; several of the emirs were for evacuating the province at once, when the news suddenly arrived that abu gemmaiza was dead. as a matter of fact, to the great good fortune of fasher, he had been taken seriously ill of small-pox at kebkebia. the excited multitudes refused either to return or disperse; and, electing his assistant as his successor, they continued their advance on fasher; but, in spite of their former victories, their belief in their leader's success had waned when he had fallen ill, and when he died, it vanished altogether. osman wad adam had taken up a position in the south end of the city; and when the rebels advanced to the attack, they were driven back to rahad tendelti with fearful loss. abu gemmaiza's successor was killed, and his troops, dispersing in all directions, were pursued and slaughtered. the whole country seemed covered with dead bodies; but fasher and darfur were saved. there is a curious coincidence in the dates of these momentous occurrences in the east and west sudan: the previous year, both armies had advanced--the one to darfur and the other to abyssinia; both had been attacked by their enemies in their fortifications--the one by king john, and the other by abu gemmaiza, in the same month; and both had been unexpectedly successful. previous, however, to these occurrences, the khalifa had again directed his attention towards egypt. he had questioned several persons regarding the country; and they had excited in him an avaricious longing for the grand palaces, large gardens, and immense harems of white women (he himself had black in abundance). of course the most suitable man to undertake operations against egypt was nejumi. he was an exceptionally brave man, and, when a simple merchant, had travelled a great deal, knew the country well, and, moreover, was an ardent devotee to the cause of mahdism, to which he had won over great numbers. the greater part of his force consisted of tribesmen of the nile valley; many had seen egypt, and had until recently much intercourse with the frontier tribes of upper egypt. such were the outward and visible reasons which the khalifa brought forward when selecting the chief; but, in reality, he was well aware that a campaign against egypt was a serious undertaking; and, on this account, he was anxious not to involve in it his own relatives, and the western tribes who were his special adherents. nejumi, therefore, with his jaalin and danagla, and a proportion of baggaras, formed the expedition; but the two former, being followers of the khalifa sherif, abdullahi always looked upon as his secret enemies. should the campaign be successful,--and he never for a moment doubted the capacity and devotion of its leader,--then so much the better, he would have conquered a new country; but should the egyptian troops succeed in repelling the invasion, then the remnant of his defeated forces would retire on dongola, with heavy loss, and would be so far weakened as to be unworthy of further consideration. he therefore despatched yunes wad ed dekeim as emir of the dongola province, and to hold the country, whilst nejumi was to receive his orders from yunes, and proceed with the advanced troops. the dongola province, at this period, it must be remembered, was entirely under baggara domination. amongst the reinforcements despatched thence were ahmed wad gar en nebbi and some of the batahin tribesmen, who came from the country north of the blue nile, between the shukria district and the river. many of this tribe had been previously despatched to dongola and berber; and now the few who were left refused to comply with the khalifa's orders, in consequence of which gar en nebbi had deserted, and, being pursued, had wounded one of the khalifa's men. abdullahi, indignant at this disregard of his orders, had despatched abdel baki, accompanied by taher wad el obeid, to seize by force all the batahin; the latter now fled in all directions, but, with the exception of a very few, were captured. during the pursuit abdel baki, guided by wad el obeid, suffered severely from thirst; and this he imputed to the ill-will of the latter, who, in consequence, was deprived of his position and thrown into chains at omdurman. abdel baki now brought in sixty-seven men of the batahin, with their wives and children. this tribe was celebrated for its bravery during the government days; and now the khalifa, who had already privately given his views on the matter to the judges, ordered them to be summoned before the court. it was unanimously decided that the batahin were mukhalefin (disobedient). "and what is the punishment for disobedience?" asked the khalifa. "death," was the reply of the judges. they were sent back to prison, and the khalifa busied himself with carrying the sentence into execution. in accordance with his orders, three scaffolds were immediately erected in the market-place, and, after midday prayers, the ombeÿa was sounded and the great war-drum was beaten, summoning all the khalifa's subjects to follow him. riding to the parade ground, he dismounted and seated himself on a small angareb, whilst his followers collected around him, some sitting and some standing. the sixty-seven batahin were now brought before him, with their hands tied behind their backs, escorted by abdel baki's men, whilst their unfortunate wives and children ran after them crying and screaming. the khalifa gave instructions that the women and children were to be separated from the men, and, summoning ahmed ed dalia, taher wad el jaali, and hassan wad khabir, consulted them in an undertone; the latter then went forward to the batahin, and instructed the escort and prisoners to follow them to the market-place. after a delay of a quarter of an hour, the khalifa got up, and we all walked on behind him. arrived at the market-place, a terrible scene awaited us. the unfortunate batahin had been divided into three parties, one of which had been hanged, a second had been decapitated, and a third had lost their right hands and left feet. the khalifa himself stopped in front of the three scaffolds, which were almost broken by the weights of the bodies, whilst close at hand lay a heap of mutilated people, their hands and feet lying scattered on the ground; it was a shocking spectacle. they did not utter a sound, but gazed in front of them, and tried to hide from the eyes of the crowd the terrible sufferings they were enduring. the khalifa now summoned osman wad ahmed, one of the kadis, who was an intimate friend of khalifa ali, and a member of the batahin tribe; and pointing to the mutilated bodies, he said to osman, "you may now take what remains of your tribe home with you." the poor man was too shocked and horrified to be able to answer. [illustration: the execution of the "batahin."] after riding round the scaffolds, the khalifa proceeded along the street leading to the mosque; and here ahmed ed dalia had been continuing his bloody work; twenty-three decapitated bodies lay stretched along the roadside; these unfortunates had calmly met their death, submitting to the inevitable. several of them, as is the custom amongst the arabs, had given proof of their courage by uttering a few sentences, such as: "death is ordained for every one." "see! to-day is my holy day." "he who has not seen a brave man die, let him come and look here." each one of these sixty-seven men had met his death heroically. the khalifa's work was done; he was satisfied with it, and rode home. on his arrival there, by way of an act of clemency, he sent one of his orderlies with instructions that the women and children of the murdered men should be set free; he might just as well have distributed them as slaves. in spite of all these horrors, i was secretly rejoicing, for i had heard that letters from home were on their way; not only were there letters, but i had also been told, confidentially, by some merchants who had come from berber, that there were two boxes of money for me. i scarcely dared think about it, and to wait patiently was no easy matter. one morning, whilst i was sitting at the door, a camel laden with two boxes was brought up; and the man asked to be taken before the khalifa, saying that he had arrived with letters and goods from osman digna. the khalifa, being apprised of this, ordered the boxes to be sent to the beit el mal, and the letters to be given to his clerks. i was wild with impatience; but it was the khalifa's pleasure not to summon me till after sunset, and then he handed me the letters. they were, as i expected, from my brothers and sisters, expressing their great delight at having at last received news direct from me. one letter was written in arabic, and addressed to the khalifa, and contained profuse thanks to him for his kindness to me, recommending me to him for further assurances of his good-will, for which they sent many expressions of gratitude. this letter, which had been written by professor dahrmund, was composed in such flattering terms that the khalifa had it read aloud the same evening in the mosque; and so gratified was he, that he ordered the boxes to be made over to me. meanwhile, i translated to him my letters, which contained only private and personal information, and in which my brothers and sisters told me they had sent a travelling-bag for the khalifa in token of their devotion to him, begging him to accept this trifling present, which was quite unworthy of his exalted position. he expressed his readiness to accept it, and ordered me to bring it to him the next morning. he then sent two of his people, so that the boxes might be opened in their presence; and, late that night, we went to the beit el mal, and there opened them. they contained £ , twelve ordinary watches, some razors and looking-glasses, some newspapers, a german translation of the kuran, and the khalifa's present. these things were all handed over to me; and, having read my letters once again, i literally devoured the newspapers. news from home! there were only a few numbers of the "neue freie presse," but quite sufficient to afford me, who had had no news for six years, the pleasure of reading at night-time for months. i gradually got to know them by heart, from the political leader down to the last advertisement, in which an elderly maiden lady advertised that she was anxious to find a kindred spirit with a view to matrimony. father ohrwalder came to me secretly by night to borrow the papers, and studied them just as conscientiously as i did,--only i do not suppose that he paid quite so much attention to the last advertisement! early the next morning, taking the present with me, i went to the khalifa; he told me to open it, and when he saw all the little crystal boxes, silver-topped bottles, brushes, razors, scissors, etc., etc., he was greatly surprised. i had to explain to him their various uses; and he then sent for the kadis, who, in duty bound, were obliged to express even greater astonishment than he, though i had no doubt that several of them had seen such things before. then, without any further delay, he sent for his clerk, and ordered him to write a letter to my brothers and sisters, in which he himself informed them of the honourable position i held in his service; he invited them to come to omdurman and visit me, and gave them the assurance that they would be free to return. he also ordered me to write in the same strain; and, although i knew perfectly well that my people would never avail themselves of such an invitation, which was merely a spontaneous outburst of delight, i took good care to warn them fully against thinking of it for an instant. the letters were then returned by the man who had been sent by osman digna; and the latter was instructed by letter to forward them. the real reason, however, for the khalifa's good-humour lay in the fact that his own tribe, the taaisha, had arrived in omdurman. they had marched through kordofan to the white nile at tura el hadra. the khalifa had written to them that they should come to take possession of the countries which the lord their god had ordained to be theirs; and on their arrival they certainly behaved as if they were sole masters. they appropriated everything they could lay their hands on: camels, cows, and donkeys were forcibly carried off from their owners; men and women who had the misfortune to cross their path, were robbed of their clothing and jewellery; and the populations of the countries through which they passed bitterly rued the day which had made a western arab their ruler. for their convenience, the khalifa erected immense grain depôts all along the roads by which they travelled; and, on their arrival at the river, ships and steamers were ready to transport them to omdurman. but, before they reached the city, the khalifa ordered them to halt on the right bank of the river; and, dividing them into two sections, he had all the men and women freshly clothed at the expense of the beit el mal; and they then were brought in detachments, at intervals of two or three days, to omdurman. in order to make the populace thoroughly understand that the new masters of the country had arrived, abdullahi drove out of their houses all the inhabitants of that portion of the city lying between the mosque and omdurman fort, and handed it over to the taaisha as their residence. other ground was allotted to those who had been forced to give up their houses, and they were promised assistance from the beit el mal in order to rebuild; but, of course, this was mere empty form, and resulted in their having to shift entirely for themselves. in order to facilitate the maintenance of his tribe, and as grain began to rise in price, the khalifa issued an order for all grain stored in the houses to be taken to the meshra el minarata (grain docks), under pain of confiscation; and, having obtained the services of some of his own myrmidons, he ordered them to sell this grain at the lowest possible rate to the taaisha; and the money thus obtained he divided amongst the original owners, who, in their turn, were obliged to re-purchase at the high rates from other sources. this wholesale robbery can be better understood, when i explain that the money paid by the taaisha for ten ardebs of grain would scarcely pay for two ardebs purchased in the ordinary manner. when the supply of grain at omdurman was diminishing, he despatched messengers to the gezira to confiscate what was still there; and, in this manner, by publicly showing his preference for his own tribe, he completely estranged himself from his former followers. this, however, was a matter of little concern to him, as, by the advent of the taaisha arabs, he had acquired a reinforcement of several thousands of warriors. after the mahdi's death, the khalifa had sent four messengers to cairo with letters addressed to her majesty the queen of england, his majesty the sultan, and his highness the khedive, in which he summoned them to submit to his rule and to adopt mahdism. the messengers returned from cairo, where due note had been made of this insolent demand, without any answer; and the khalifa was greatly offended. early in , however, when he had decided to send nejumi to invade egypt, he again despatched four messengers to egypt, conveying his final warning; but these were kept for a time at assuan, and again sent back without any answer. the campaigns in the east and west having been successfully concluded, the revolt of abu gemmaiza having been suppressed, and king john of abyssinia having been killed, and his head despatched with others to omdurman, the khalifa now sent it to yunes at dongola to be forwarded by him to wadi halfa, as a warning, and as a proof of his victory over all those who refused to believe in the mahdi. having overcome his difficulties, and being strengthened by the arrival of fresh contingents of arabs, the khalifa now considered that the time had come when he might venture an attack on egypt, and conquer it. consequently, nejumi received special instructions to start forthwith, with all under his command; and, avoiding wadi halfa, to capture assuan, and there await further orders. in addition to his own followers, nejumi had been reinforced by the batahin, the homr, and other arabs of whom the khalifa was anxious to rid himself; and with these he quitted dongola early in may, . meanwhile, the egyptian government had been kept well informed of the advance of this ill-equipped force, and had taken all precautions; whilst nejumi, instead of material support, received continual orders from yunes to hurry on; and it was not till he had arrived within the egyptian frontier that some reinforcements of jaalin, under haj ali, reached him. at the village of argin, a portion of his troops, contrary to his orders, had descended from the desert high ground to the river, and, coming in contact with the troops of the wadi halfa garrison under wodehouse pasha, sustained considerable loss. meanwhile, grenfell pasha, sirdar of the egyptian army, having started with a force from assuan, wrote a letter to nejumi, in which he pointed out the danger of the situation, and how impossible it was for him to hope to be successful. he therefore summoned him to surrender; but this nejumi stubbornly refused to do; and a battle ensued at toski, in which general grenfell and the egyptian army utterly annihilated the mahdists. nejumi and almost all of his emirs were killed; thousands were taken prisoners; and only a very few succeeded in escaping back to dongola. the khalifa had ridden to the beit el mal, and was praying on the banks of the nile, when mounted men arrived in hot haste from dongola, and handed letters to his secretary, who, for the moment, suppressed the news, and only read it to him when he returned home. the letters described the death of nejumi and the destruction of his army; and the effect on the khalifa was terrible. he had no great confidence, it is true, in the tribes who had gone forward to invade egypt; but, at the same time, their annihilation was a frightful blow to him. he had hoped that they would either have been victorious, or would have beaten a safe retreat; but now he had lost upwards of sixteen thousand of his men; and he at once thought the government would advance and re-occupy dongola. for three days he did not go near his harem; and, day and night, i was obliged to stay at his door and pretend to sympathise with him in these occurrences, though secretly i was rejoicing. he at once despatched reinforcements to yunes; but, at the same time, sent him instructions that, should the government advance, he should not attempt to oppose the army, but was to retreat with his entire force to sannum, in dar shaigia. but disasters never come singly: grain rose daily in price. no rain had fallen the previous year, and the crops in consequence had been very bad; the parties who had been sent to the gezira had orders to procure grain by force at the rate fixed by the khalifa. of course those who had any at once hid it, and denied having anything; but in truth there was really very little in the land. famine first broke out in the province of berber, which was entirely dependent on the gezira for supplies; and here osman wad ed dekeim was obliged to disperse his men and horses throughout various parts of the country. the irrigation of this province is carried on by water-wheels at intervals along the river banks; and even in prosperous times the supply of grain is scarcely sufficient to meet the wants of the local inhabitants; there was therefore now considerable difficulty in maintaining all osman's people as well. several of the inhabitants wandered to omdurman, which was already over-populated; and here the situation became most critical: the price of grain rose at first to forty dollars, and subsequently to sixty dollars, the ardeb. the rich could purchase grain; but the poor died wholesale. those were terrible months at the close of ; the people had become so thin that they scarcely resembled human beings,--they were veritably but skin and bone. these poor wretches would eat anything, no matter how disgusting,--skins of animals which had long since dried and become decayed, were roasted and eaten; the strips of leather which form the angareb (native bedstead) were cut off, boiled, and made into soup. those who had any strength left went out and robbed; like hawks they pounced down on the bakers and butchers, and cared nothing for the blows of the kurbash, which invariably fell on their attenuated backs. on one occasion, i remember seeing a man who had seized a piece of tallow, and had crammed it into his mouth before its owner could stop him. the latter jumped at his throat, closed his hands round it, and pressed it till the man's eyes protruded; but he kept his mouth tightly closed until he fell down insensible. in the market-places, the incessant cry was heard of "gayekum! gayekum!" (he is coming to you!), which meant that famished creatures were stealthily creeping round the places where the women had their few articles for sale, to protect which they were frequently obliged to lie upon them, and defend them with their hands and feet. the space between the khalifa's and yakub's houses was generally crowded at night with these wretched people, who cried aloud most piteously for bread. i dreaded going home; for i was generally followed by several of these famished beggars, who often attempted to forcibly enter my house; and at that time i had scarcely enough for my own slender wants, besides having to help my own household and my friends, who had now become wretchedly poor. one night,--it was full moon,--i was going home at about twelve o'clock, when, near the beit el amana (ammunition and arms stores), i saw something moving on the ground, and went near to see what it was. as i approached, i saw three almost naked women, with their long tangled hair hanging about their shoulders; they were squatting round a quite young donkey, which was lying on the ground, and had probably strayed from its mother, or been stolen by them. they had torn open its body with their teeth, and were devouring its intestines, whilst the poor animal was still breathing. i shuddered at this terrible sight, whilst the poor women, infuriated by hunger, gazed at me like maniacs. the beggars by whom i was followed, now fell upon them, and attempted to wrest from them their prey; and i fled from this uncanny spectacle. on another occasion, i saw a poor woman who must formerly have been beautiful, but on whose emaciated face the death-struggle was visible, lying on her back in the street, whilst her little baby, scarcely a year old, was vainly trying to get some nourishment from its mother's already cold breasts. another woman, passing by, took compassion on the little orphan, and carried it off. one day, a woman of the jaalin, who are perhaps the most moral tribe in the sudan, accompanied by her only daughter, a lovely young girl, dragged herself wearily to my house; both were at death's door from starvation, and begged me to help them. i gave them what little i could; and the woman then said, "take this, my only daughter, as your slave; save her from death by starvation!" and, as she said this, the tears streamed down her poor wan cheeks, whilst in her weak, scarcely audible voice, she continued, "do not fear that i shall molest you any further; only save her; do not let her perish!" i gave them all i could spare, and then asked them to leave me, telling them to return when they were in great want; but i never saw them again,--perhaps some charitable person took pity on them. another woman was actually accused of eating her own child, and was brought to the police station for trial; but of what use was this?--in two days the poor creature died, a raving maniac! [illustration: famine stricken.] several sold their own children, both boys and girls, pretending they were their slaves,--this they did not to obtain money, but simply to save their lives; and, when this year of misery was over, some parents bought them back again at even higher prices. the dead lay in the streets in hundreds; and none could be found to bury them. the khalifa issued orders that people were responsible for burying those who were found dead near their houses; and that, should they refuse to do so, their property would be confiscated. this had some effect; but, to save themselves trouble, they used to drag the bodies near their neighbours' houses; and this gave rise to frequent quarrels and brawls. every day, the waters of the blue and white niles swept past omdurman, carrying along hundreds of bodies of the wretched peasantry who had died along the banks,--a terrible proof of the awful condition of the country. in omdurman itself, the majority of those who died belonged rather to the moving population, than to the actual inhabitants of the town; for the latter had managed to secrete a certain amount of grain, and the different tribes invariably assisted each other; but, in other parts of the sudan, the state of affairs was considerably worse. i think the jaalin, who are most independent, as well as the proudest tribe in the sudan, suffered more severely than the rest; several fathers of families, seeing that escape from death was impossible, bricked up the doors of their houses, and, united with their children, patiently awaited death. i have no hesitation in saying that in this way entire villages died out. the inhabitants of dongola, though they suffered considerably, were somewhat better off; and for this they had to thank nejumi, whose departure had considerably reduced the population of the province. between abu haraz, gedaref, and gallabat, the situation was worst of all. zeki tummal, at the commencement of the famine, had given orders to some of his myrmidons to forcibly collect all the grain in the neighbourhood; and this he stored for his soldiers, thus saving the bulk of his force, with the result that an immense proportion of the local inhabitants died of starvation. after a time, no one dared to go out into the streets without an escort; for they feared being attacked and eaten up; the inhabitants had become animals,--cannibals! one of the emirs of the homr tribe,--who, in spite of the terrible year, still preserved a fairly healthy appearance,--notwithstanding constant warning, insisted on going to visit a friend after sunset; but he never reached his friend, nor returned to his abode; the next morning, his head was found outside the city, and i presume his body had already been consumed. the hassania, shukria, aggaliun, hammada, and other tribes had completely died out; and the once thickly populated country had become a desert waste. zeki tummal sent a detachment of his force to the southern districts of the blue nile, towards the tabi, begreg, kukeli, kashankero, and beni shangul mountains, the inhabitants of which, although they paid tribute to the khalifa, refused to make a pilgrimage or provide warlike contingents. this he had done not so much with the idea of military operations, as to provide some means of maintaining his troops; but the commander, abder rasul, succeeded in capturing a number of slaves, as well as a quantity of money. the situation in darfur was little better than that in gedaref and gallabat; the western provinces, such as dar gimr, dar tama, and massalit, had no need of grain; but not being in complete subjection, they prevented its export to fasher. indeed, it seemed as if this famine had come as heaven's punishment on all districts owning subjection to the khalifa, whilst the neighbouring countries, which had had sufficient rest to cultivate their fields, had acquired enough grain for their maintenance. a few omdurman merchants hired some vessels, and proceeded to fashoda, where they exchanged beads, copper rods, and money for dhurra; the undertaking succeeded, and now crowds of others followed their example, proceeding sometimes as far as the sobat, whence they imported quantities of grain, thus enriching themselves, and saving their fellow-countrymen from terrible want. had the king of fashoda, who was not then subject to the khalifa, forbidden the export, half omdurman would have perished. at length, the rain fell; the thirsty land was refreshed; the crops sprang up; harvest was near; and the whole country once more rejoiced at the prospect of help and deliverance. but now the atmosphere became obscure with swarms of locusts of an unusual size, and the prospect of a rich harvest vanished; everything, however, was not destroyed by this plague, which, from that date, has become one of annual occurrence. the khalifa, anxious for the welfare of his own tribe, now forced the natives to sell the little grain they had collected, at an absurdly low price, to his agents; but small as this was, in comparison with the price he ought to have paid, he determined to still further economise, and, consequently, ordered ibrahim adlan to proceed personally to the gezira, and induce the inhabitants to give up their dhurra of their own free-will, and without payment. adlan, who thoroughly disapproved of this measure, now left; and his enemies, seizing the occasion of his absence, did all they could to bring about his fall. this able official had, by his thoroughness and sagacity, risen high in the khalifa's favour; but ambition induced him to strive for the first place. he frequently made use of his position to upset the plans of others; but, in reality, abdullahi sought nobody's advice, and discussed state affairs with his brother yakub only, whose animosity adlan had incurred, though yakub was too clever to show it. as natives go, adlan's character was good: he did not care to lend himself to evil designs, and, far from oppressing people, was often the means of lightening the burdens of others; he was most liberal and well-disposed to those who were submissive to his will; but he was bitterly hostile to those he suspected of finding fault with his actions, or who endeavoured to obtain appointments and positions without his intervention. like all sudanese, he was bent on making money by fair means or foul; and as he was head of the beit el mal, through whose hands all the taxes passed, this was not a matter of difficulty. he was suspected, and not without reason, of having made an immense fortune, and of this the khalifa was not ignorant; consequently, during his absence, yakub and several of his confidants informed the khalifa that adlan's influence in the country was almost as great as his own, and that he had frequently spoken disparagingly of his master and his system of government; they even went as far as to say that adlan had attributed the famine entirely to the khalifa's treatment of his own tribe. adlan, who was somewhat slow in carrying out the khalifa's instructions in the gezira, and against whom the taaisha were clamouring bitterly, was recalled by the khalifa, who, for the first few days after his arrival, did not show his hand; but when the taaisha, instigated by yakub, continued clamouring, the khalifa summoned him, and accused him in harsh terms of infidelity and abuse of confidence. furious at this treatment, and trusting to the confidential nature of his position, adlan, for a moment, forgot that after all he was merely the khalifa's slave, and retorted in equally sharp terms, "you reproach me now," said he,--"i who have served you all these years; and now i do not fear to speak my mind to you. through preference for your own tribe, and your love of evil-doing, you have estranged the hearts of all those who have hitherto been faithful to you. i have ever been mindful of your interests; but as you now listen to my enemies, and to your brother yakub, who is ill-disposed towards me, i cannot serve you any longer." the khalifa, alarmed and shocked by such language, which no one had ever dared before to use in his presence, was furious. if adlan had not had such power in the country, he would never have dared to speak like this; and if he had not accumulated considerable wealth, he would never have risked giving up so lucrative a position. abdullahi, however, controlled himself, and replied, "i have taken note of what you have said, and will think it over; leave me now, and i will give you an answer to-morrow." he went out; but ere he had reached the door the khalifa had made up his mind. after sunset the next day, the two khalifas, all the kadis, and yakub were summoned to a council; and, shortly afterwards, adlan was called before them. in a few words, similar to those he had used the previous day, the khalifa spoke to him about his attitude, adding, "you spoke against yakub, and said that i had estranged myself from the hearts of my partisans; do you not know that my brother yakub is my eye and my right hand? it is you who have estranged the hearts of my friends from me; and now you dare to do the same with my brother; but the almighty god is righteous, and you shall not escape your punishment." he then made a sign to the mulazemin, who had been kept in readiness, to seize him and carry him off to prison. without uttering a word of reproach, with a firm step, and holding his head high in the air, he submitted to his fate, determined that his enemies should not have the satisfaction of seeing him downhearted or afraid. the khalifa at once gave instructions that adlan's house should be confiscated, and the beit el mal property seized. a careful search of the former was ordered; and the employés of the latter were instructed to render immediate and complete accounts. in adlan's pocket was found a piece of paper inscribed all over with mysterious writing, in which the name of the khalifa frequently appeared; it had been written with a solution of saffron, which is supposed to possess some secret power; and the unfortunate adlan was not less superstitious than the majority of the sudanese. the paper was declared to be sorcery, which is punishable most severely; adlan was pronounced to be mukhalef (disobedient) in not carrying out his orders, and a traitor, because he had attempted to sow dissension between the khalifa and his brother yakub, and, in the endeavour to effect this, had been guilty of the use of sorcery. the verdict was mutilation, or death, and he was allowed to make his choice; he selected the latter. with his hands tied across his chest, and to the strains of the melancholy ombeÿa, he was led forth to the market-place, accompanied by an immense crowd. calmly mounting the angareb beneath the scaffold, he himself placed his head in the noose, and, refusing to drink the water offered to him, told the hangman to complete his work; the rope was pulled taut, the angareb was removed, and there ibrahim swung like a marble statue, until his soul left his body, the outstretched index finger alone indicating that he died in the true faith of islam. in spite of the interdiction, wails of sorrow filled the city; but the khalifa rejoiced that he had rid himself of so dangerous an enemy, and refrained from punishing this disobedience to his orders. he sent his brother yakub to the funeral, as if to show to the world that adlan had merely been punished in accordance with the law, and that the well-known animosity between the two had nothing to do with the matter. his successor as emin beit el mal was a certain nur wad ibrahim whose grandfather was a takruri. he did not, therefore, belong to the tribes of the nile valley, and thus had a greater claim on the khalifa's confidence and consideration. as regards myself, the khalifa seemed to grow daily more suspicious. previous to ibrahim adlan's departure for the gezira, the answer to my letter, which had been sent to my family through osman digna, had arrived. it contained only news of a private nature, and expressed the great delight of my family that they had succeeded in at last getting into communication with me. at the same time, they wrote to the khalifa in submissive words, expressing their gratitude for the kind and honourable treatment which i received at his hands. they also assured him of their great devotion to him, and thanked him for the high honour he had conferred upon them by inviting them to come to omdurman; but my brother regretted his inability to accept, as he was at that time a secretary in the office of the high chamberlain of his majesty the emperor of austria, whilst the other brother was a lawyer and lieutenant in the artillery reserve; they were therefore both unable, in virtue of their positions, to undertake so long a journey. my master had called me up, and, on handing me the letters, had ordered me to translate them to him; then, considering for a few moments, he said to me, "it was my intention to induce one of your brothers to come here and see me; and i did what i had never done before,--wrote a letter to them. as they make excuses and refuse to come, and as they now know that you are well, i forbid you to have any more correspondence with them. further communications would only make you unhappy. do you understand what i mean?" "certainly," i replied, "your orders shall be obeyed; and i also think that further communication with my relatives is not necessary." "where is the gospel that has been sent to you?" asked he, looking at me fixedly. "i am a moslem," i answered, for i was now on my guard; "and i have no gospel in my house. they sent me a translation of the kuran, the holy book, which your secretary saw when the box was opened, and which is still in my possession." "then bring it to me to-morrow," he said, and signed to me to withdraw. it was perfectly clear to me that he no longer trusted me; and i knew that after nejumi's defeat he had several times spoken in this sense to the kadis. i had already spent almost all the money i had received in gifts amongst my comrades; and now some of these began to murmur, and were disappointed that the sum was so small; and i knew that they were intriguing against me. who could have induced him to believe that the kuran which had been sent to me was the gospel? the next day, i gave it to him. the translation was by ullman. he examined it carefully, and then said: "you say that this is the kuran; it is in the language of unbelievers, and perhaps they have made alterations." "it is a literal translation into my own language," i replied, calmly, "and its object is to make me understand the holy book which has come from god, and was made known to mankind by the prophet, in the arabic language. if you wish, you can send it to neufeld, who is in captivity in the prison, and with whom i have no intercourse; and you can ascertain from him if my assertion is correct." "i do not mistrust you, and i believe what you say," he replied, in a somewhat more amiable tone; "but people have spoken to me about it, and you had better destroy the book." when i had told him that i was perfectly willing to do this, he continued, "also i wish you to return the present your brothers and sisters sent me; i can make no use of it, and it will be a proof to them that i place no value on worldly possessions." he now had his secretary summoned, and ordered him to write a letter in my name to my family, to the effect that it was not necessary to correspond any more; and, after i had signed it, it was sent, together with the travelling-bag, to the beit el mal, to be despatched to suakin. from that day, i was more careful than ever to do nothing to increase the mistrust which i saw had sprung up in abdullahi's mind. after adlan's death, however, he thought it necessary to warn me again, and cautioned me most seriously against becoming mixed up in any sort of conspiracy. assembling all his mulazemin, he asserted, in the most forcible language, that i was suspected of being a spy; that he had been told i invariably questioned the camel postmen who arrived, about the situation; that i received visitors in my house at night who were known to be out of favour with him; and that i had gone so far as to inquire in what part of his house his bedroom was situated. "i am afraid," he continued, "that if you do not change your line of conduct, you will follow in the footsteps of my old enemy adlan." this was rather a blow to me; but i knew that now, more than ever, i had need of being calm and collected. "sire!" said i, in a loud voice, "i cannot defend myself against unknown enemies; but i am perfectly innocent of all they have told you. i leave my detractors in the hands of god. for more than six years, in sunshine and rain, i have stood at your door, ever ready to receive and carry out your orders. at your command, i have given up all my old friends, and have no communication with any one. i have even given up all connection with my relatives, and that without the slightest remonstrance. such a thing as conspiracy has never even entered my heart. during all these long years, i have never made a complaint. sire, what have i done? all that i do is not done out of fear of you, but out of love for you; and i cannot do more. should god still have further trials in store for me, i shall calmly and willingly submit to my fate; but i have full reliance in your sense of justice." "what have you to say to his words?" he said to the assembled mulazemin, after a moment's silence. all, without exception, admitted that they had never noticed anything in my behaviour which could give rise to such a suspicion; my enemies also--and i well knew who they were, and who were responsible for getting me into this dangerous position--were obliged to admit this. "i forgive you," said he; "but avoid for the future giving further cause for complaint," and, holding out his hand for me to kiss, he signed to me to withdraw. he must have felt that he had wronged me; for the next day he summoned me, spoke to me kindly, and warned me against my enemies, who, he said, were as a thorn in my flesh. i professed affection and confidence in him; and he then said, in quite a confidential tone, "do not make enemies, for you know that mahdia is conducted in accordance with the moslem law: should you be accused before the kadi of treason, and two witnesses make good the accusation, you are lost; for i cannot go against the law to save you." what an existence in a country where one's very life hung on the evidence of two witnesses! thanking him for his advice, i promised to follow it, and said i would, of course, do all in my power to deserve his confidence. when i returned home at midnight, tired and worn out by this constant strain, my devoted saadalla informed me, to my great annoyance, that, only a few minutes before, one of the khalifa's eunuchs had brought a closely-veiled female, who was now in my house. i ought to have been greatly pleased about this, for it was a proof that the khalifa had forgiven me; but my first thought was, how to rid myself of this present without creating suspicion. saadalla and i now entered the house; and, to my horror, i found that underneath the veil was an egyptian who had been born at khartum, and who was, consequently, from a sudanese point of view, a lady of a comparatively fair complexion. she was seated on the carpet; and, after we had exchanged greetings, she replied to my query as to her nationality with such rapidity of speech that i, who spoke arabic fairly well, had the greatest difficulty in following the romantic history of her life. she was the daughter, she said, of an egyptian officer who, i afterwards learnt, had only been a private soldier, and who had fallen in the fight against the shilluks, under yusef bey. as this had taken place upwards of twenty years before, i could, without any great effort of calculation, estimate fairly accurately that this good lady was well out of her teens; and as she admitted that her first husband had been killed during the capture of khartum, that her mother was an abyssinian who had been educated in khartum, and was still alive, and that she had an enormous number of relatives, i really believe that, had my head not been clean-shaven, my hair would veritably have stood on end. this far-travelled and widely-experienced lady informed me that she had been one of the many hundreds of abu anga's wives, and i had now been chosen as the happy successor of this old slave. after his death, she had been captured, with several of her rivals, by the abyssinians, when king john attacked gallabat, but had been subsequently liberated by zeki tummal; and she knew so many details of all the fights in this neighbourhood, that, had my memory been only capable of retaining them, they would have now been of great interest to my readers. a short time ago, the khalifa had ordered abu anga's remaining widows to be brought to omdurman, for distribution amongst his followers; she then went on to say that the khalifa himself had specially selected her as my wife, and she added, in a subdued tone, that she rejoiced to have fallen into the hands of a fellow-countryman. i explained to her that i was not an egyptian, but an european. as, however, my skin was somewhat tanned, and the circumstances in which i lived gave her a pretext for claiming me as a compatriot, i was obliged to say that i would provide as far as possible for her maintenance and comfort; and, as the night was well advanced, i bade her follow my servant saadalla, who would make arrangements for her. such were the khalifa's presents: instead of allocating a small sum of money from the beit el mal, by means of which i could have procured for myself a few comforts, he kept on sending me wives, who were not only a source of considerable expense to me, but also a cause of much anxiety and worry, inasmuch as i was continually struggling to free myself from their unwelcome presence. the next morning, the khalifa laughingly asked me if i had received his present, and if i liked it. with the lesson of two days ago still fresh in my mind, i assured him that i was only too happy to receive this fresh proof of his affection, and that, please god, i should always live in the enjoyment of his favour. when i returned to my house before midday prayer, i found it full of females, who, notwithstanding the remonstrances of saadalla, and jeering at his wrath, had entered by main force, and now introduced themselves to me as the nearest relatives of fatma el beida (the white fatma), as the khalifa's present was called. a decrepid old abyssinian lady introduced herself as my future mother-in-law; from her loquacity, i should instantly have recognised her as the mother of fatma el beida; and i could not help wondering how so small and fragile a body could contain so noisy and voluble a tongue. she assured me of her pleasure that her daughter had been confided to my care, adding that she was convinced that i would accord to her her rightful position in my household. here was i, the slave of a tyrant, and obliged to submit to the most wretched of circumstances; and now she talked to me of the position due to her daughter! i assured her that i would of course treat her daughter well; and, apologising that my time was so fully occupied, i fled. before leaving, however, i ordered saadalla to entertain them as well as he could, according to the custom of the country, and then to turn them all out, neck and crop, and, if necessary, to call the other servants to his assistance. a few days afterwards, the khalifa again inquired about fatma; and as i knew that he was most anxious that i should lead as quiet and secluded a life as possible, i told him that, for the present, i had no objection to her person; but as her numerous relatives might possibly come in contact with people whose acquaintance neither he, my master, nor i should consider desirable, and that as in my efforts to prevent this i frequently came into collision with both sides, it was naturally my earnest wish to prevent such disturbances. and i then went on to say that, should she not submit to my arrangements, i proposed surrendering fatma entirely to her relatives; and with this proposition the khalifa appeared perfectly satisfied. there was, however, no truth in this statement, for since saadalla had entertained and turned out his visitors i had seen no one; fearing to betray my intentions to the khalifa, i waited some time longer, and then sent fatma el beida to her mother, whose whereabouts saadalla had at length discovered, and i instructed the lady to stay with her mother until i should send for her. a few days afterwards, i sent a few clothes to mother and daughter, and a small sum of money, with a message that she was free, and no longer under any obligations to me. of course i told the khalifa what i had done, reiterating that i was most anxious to have nothing to do with people who were strangers to him and to me; and in this he saw an additional proof of my anxiety to obey his orders. about a month later, the mother came to see me, and asked my permission to marry her daughter to one of her relatives. i agreed to this proposition with the greatest alacrity; and i left fatma el beida the mother of a happy family in omdurman. chapter xiv. mahdist occupation of the southern provinces. the mahdist expedition to equatoria--the fate of the remnant of emin's garrison--the campaign against the shilluks--tokar re-captured--death of osman wad adam--dissensions in dongola--the fall of khaled. karamalla, from whom osman wad adam had taken away all his bazingers and female slaves, and who was now in a state of poverty in omdurman, had, whilst emir of the bahr el ghazal province, advanced to the vicinity of the white nile, and had worried emin pasha. fortunately for the latter, karamalla had been recalled; and the bahr el ghazal province having been abandoned, no news had been received from equatoria for a long time, and those merchants who were engaged in the grain trade brought little information from any of the countries south of fashoda. the khalifa, who was always turning over in his mind how he could increase his revenue, had heard of the richness of these countries in ivory and slaves, and, in consequence, had decided to organise an expedition to attack and take possession of them; but, as the undertaking was a risky one and success doubtful, he hesitated to involve in it his relatives or his tribe; he therefore nominated omar saleh, who had been educated amongst the taaisha tribe, as chief of the expedition, which was composed for the most part of tribes of the nile valley,--jaalin and danagla. three steamers were now manned, as well as eight sailing-vessels filled with cargo, consisting principally of manchester goods, beads, etc.; and omar saleh was given a force of some rifles and five hundred spearmen. the khalifa sent letters to emin pasha, including one which i was obliged to sign, in which i called upon him to surrender; george stambuli, who had formerly been emin pasha's private agent in khartum, was also obliged to write a letter. at this time, the shilluks were in considerable force; and as they did not owe allegiance to the khalifa, omar saleh was instructed to pass by fashoda as quickly as possible, and only to defend himself in case of attack. the expedition quitted omdurman in july, , passed fashoda without difficulty; and after that omar had no further opportunity of reporting on his position. it was not till a year had elapsed, and the khalifa was beginning to get uneasy, and was considering how he could procure information, that a steamer arrived with some ivory and a quantity of slaves, the captain of which gave a full account of the progress and position of the expedition. the egyptian garrison of reggaf had surrendered, and some of the officers of that place had been sent to duffilé, with orders to seize emin pasha, whose soldiers had mutinied, and hand him over to omar saleh. after the departure of the party from reggaf, a rumour had been circulated amongst the mahdists that they had been deceived by the officers, and that it was the intention of the latter, on their arrival at duffilé, to join with the garrison of that place and attack omar saleh; he therefore seized the officers and men who had remained behind, threw them into chains, and distributed their property and slaves amongst his followers. the officers who had gone to duffilé had really intended to capture emin, who had in the meantime left with stanley; and, hearing of what had happened to their wives and property, they now collected the soldiers who, on emin's departure had created a sort of military republic, and with them marched towards reggaf. the mahdists, getting information of this, met them on the road; and a fight ensued, in which omar saleh was victorious. the officers were killed; but most of the men succeeded in beating a retreat towards duffilé followed by the mahdists, who attacked the position, but were driven off and forced to retire. in spite of this victory, great dissensions prevailed amongst the men; and, eventually, they dispersed in bands throughout the province, in order to gain their own livelihood. the khalifa, rejoicing at omar saleh's success, and his cupidity excited by the exaggerated accounts of wad badai, who had arrived on the steamer, now gave instructions for another expedition to be equipped, with which he despatched hassib wad ahmed and elias wad kanuna, and took advantage of the occasion to rid himself of many characters which were obnoxious to him. from that date, reggaf became a colony for the deportation of convicts, and of persons whose presence in omdurman was considered dangerous to the state. several persons who had been accused of theft, and incarcerated in the saier, were handed over to wad kanuna, who, at the same time, had all persons suspected of leading an immoral life seized, thrown into chains, and sent up to reggaf; the opportunity was made the most of by several of the emirs and other influential people to rid themselves of any persons whom they thought dangerous or disagreeable to them. the two chiefs also took advantage of the occasion to visit all the villages on the river bank between omdurman and kawa, and ruthlessly seize the people, under the pretext that they belonged to this category, and had been sentenced by the khalifa to transportation; they could only regain their freedom by the payment of a considerable sum of money to the two emirs, who continued their depredations until they reached the shilluk and dinka country, the inhabitants of which they feared too much to attempt such outrages on them. from merchants who had gone to fashoda in the years and to obtain grain, we had heard a good deal about the people who lived in these countries. the districts in close proximity to the river were mostly inhabited by the shilluks and dinkas, who, untrammelled by the despotic tyranny of the khalifa, lived a quiet and undisturbed life in the midst of their families. they were ruled over by a descendant of the mek (king) of the old shilluk royal family, who had certain restrictive rights over his subjects, and, with his own interest always to the fore, permitted commercial relations with the mahdists, avoiding at the same time any actual allegiance to the khalifa, to whom he did not pay tribute. wad badai, who had had sufficient opportunities of seeing the wealth of the country between fashoda and reggaf, now gave it as his opinion that the khalifa would considerably profit by its acquisition. at this time, zeki tummal was at gallabat with his army, which, owing to famine, had considerably decreased in numbers, though he had done his best to maintain it at the expense of the local population; he had, moreover, made constant raids on the amhara country. but now the condition of the district had become so poor that he had great difficulties in finding sufficient supplies for his men, with whom he was unusually strict, punishing them most rigorously for the most trivial offences; and on this account he was not only unpopular amongst them, but also amongst his emirs. he now received instructions from the khalifa to proceed to the shilluk country; and, marching to kawa, where he embarked, he went direct to fashoda. the king of the shilluks, being under the impression that zeki's steamers were on their way to reggaf, was much surprised when the emir suddenly landed; the mek fled, was pursued, captured, and, having refused to disclose the hiding-place of the money he had received in exchange for the grain, was promptly executed. the shilluks, however, who are the finest and bravest of the sudanese black tribes, collected both north and south of fashoda, and defended their liberty and their homes with magnificent courage and resolution; but zeki's men, used to constant fighting, and armed with remington rifles, were almost invariably victorious. it was not, however, until after many bloody fights, in which the shilluks, armed only with their lances, frequently broke the squares and inflicted considerable loss on the soldiers, that they had at last to admit they were beaten. they dispersed, with their families, throughout the country, but were pursued in all directions by zeki, who captured large numbers of them. the men he invariably put to the sword; but the women, young girls, and children were embarked on the steamers, and despatched to omdurman. here the khalifa ordered the young boys to be taken charge of by his mulazemin, by whom they were to be brought up, whilst most of the girls he kept for himself, or distributed amongst his followers and special adherents. the remainder were sent to the beit el mal, where they were publicly sold; but thousands of these poor creatures succumbed to fatigue, want, and the change of climate. unused to life in this squalid city, these wild blacks were huddled together in wretched quarters, and eventually found homes amongst the poorest class of the population. it was no uncommon occurrence for a girl to be sold as a slave at the rate of from eight to twenty dollars (omdurman currency). when zeki left gallabat, the emir ahmed wad ali took his place, and his brother hamed wad ali was nominated emir of kassala. avaricious to a degree, he mercilessly robbed the people of their property and cattle, with the result that the eastern arab tribes, such as the hadendoa, halenga, beni amer, etc., who had really captured kassala for the mahdi, now revolted, and, wandering eastwards in the direction of massawa, placed themselves under the protection of the italians. thus it was that this once thickly populated country became almost denuded of inhabitants. amongst others, the once powerful shukria tribe, which had suffered terribly during the famine year, was now almost extinct; whilst the fertile district of kassala was almost completely deserted, and the garrison there had the greatest difficulty in maintaining itself. the khalifa, alarmed at the progress of the italians from massawa, now looked upon kassala as the mainstay of his authority in these districts. he was furious with his cousin, hamed wad ali, whom he accused of having ruined the country, and recalled him to omdurman, where he was ordered to attend prayers in the mosque five times daily; and he replaced him at kassala by abu girga, who had hitherto been with osman digna. osman digna, who had been made responsible for the government of the eastern sudan, had been successful in subjugating most of the arab tribes; and, through them, he had for several years been a menace to suakin. he had had several engagements with the government troops; and, on one occasion, sir herbert kitchener, the present sirdar of the egyptian army, had been severely wounded whilst making an attack on his camp at handub. eventually, the government sent an expedition which drove him out of the position he had taken up to besiege suakin; and he now made his headquarters at tokar, where he remained for some years, making constant incursions in the vicinity of suakin, and harrying the friendly tribes of which the amarar was the principal; but, tired of this constant fighting, and irritated by osman's undue severity, the local tribes began to desert the cause, and not a few of them became actually hostile to the khalifa's authority. informed of this state of things abdullahi, more anxious to defend his newly acquired realm than to occupy himself in propagating the mahdist doctrine, instructed osman digna not to go too far, and sent mohammed wad khaled to him with this message. the latter, after the confiscation of his property at bara, had been kept for more than a year in chains in kordofan; he had then been brought to omdurman, had received the khalifa's pardon, and had received back a small portion of his property. for years, he had said his prayers daily in the mosque under the khalifa's eye, and had apparently broken off all relations with his relatives, whom he accused of unfairness and ingratitude; but, as usual, his astuteness had not failed him: he was well aware of the khalifa's hostility to all the mahdi's relatives, and that was the reason he so studiously avoided all contact with them; hence his nomination as the khalifa's personal representative with osman digna. in this mission he was most successful; and, having completed it, he was instructed to proceed to abu hamed, and report on the general condition of the ababda tribes, who were subject to the egyptian government, but who were at the same time in close relationship with the mahdist tribes of the berber province. khaled's mission, however, did not have any lasting effect on osman digna; for, a few weeks after his departure, the egyptian troops, under holled smith pasha, attacked tokar, and utterly routed osman, who fled to the atbara. the khalifa, who had been informed by osman that he was about to be attacked, awaited the result with the greatest anxiety; but he openly declared to his followers that he had not the slightest doubt that victory was insured; when, therefore, the news came of osman's utter defeat and flight, he was greatly upset. councils of war were at once held, for it was feared the government troops would advance towards kassala and berber, both of which places were only weakly held; consequently, instructions were issued to the commanders of these places that, should the troops advance, they should fall back on metemmeh, where it was his intention to make a fortified camp. great, however, was his relief when he received news that the government had contented itself with the re-capture of tokar. the loss of this district was undoubtedly a very heavy blow to him, and left open to the tribes friendly to the government the roads leading to both kassala and berber. a few months later, osman digna, who had taken up a position on the high ground south of berber, with the remnant of his force, suffered greatly from want of food, and was obliged to disperse his men over the country; he therefore received orders to proceed to berber with his emirs, and, having obtained new clothing, he and the newly nominated emir of berber, zeki osman, were summoned to omdurman. here he was received in a friendly manner by the khalifa, who, convinced of his fidelity and trustworthiness, consoled him about his defeat, and, after treating him honourably for a few weeks, sent him back with some horses, camels, and women to the atbara, where he was instructed to make a camp and agricultural settlement, and collect his scattered forces. at this time, only eastern darfur remained subject to osman wad adam. the country had been almost depopulated by famine, and this emir now decided to advance against dar tama and massalit; but, on the frontier, he encountered such severe opposition that he began to think the undertaking too dangerous. he was attacked in his zariba by the natives, who, armed only with small spears, forced their way in; and he had to thank his remington rifles and the sheikhs who were with him, for a dearly earned victory; had he been attacked on the line of march, he would almost certainly have been annihilated. his heavy losses considerably delayed his march; and, ere he could obtain reinforcements, a severe epidemic of typhoid fever broke out amongst his men, and he was forced to retire; falling ill himself on the march, he died two days after his arrival at fasher. his loss was a great blow to the khalifa, who looked on his young cousin (he was barely twenty years of age) as a courageous leader who paid careful attention to the wants of his men, and had done much to increase the strength and number of the mahdist forces; he invariably sent to the khalifa the fair share of the booty, and disinterestedly divided the remainder amongst his people, keeping only for himself what sufficed for his immediate wants. he was a magnificent rider, was most popular with every one, and avoided leading an effeminate and enervating existence; for long after his death he was looked upon as a fine example of a bold and courageous arab. he was succeeded in the command of darfur by another of the khalifa's youthful relatives, mahmud wad ahmed, who was a great contrast to his predecessor: he thought only of enriching himself; his sole pleasure consisted in leading a life of debauchery with women of evil repute, dancers, and singers, and he took a special delight in all their unseemly ways. a mutiny soon broke out amongst his men, which was suppressed with the utmost severity, and resulted in a considerable weakening of his forces. yunes, who, since his despatch to dongola, had always been considered nejumi's superior, now attached to his councils arabi wad dafalla and mussaid; but, as each one was bent entirely on enriching himself as rapidly as possible, differences soon broke out, for the country was quite unable to sustain the strain of overburdened taxation. mussaid and arabi complained to the khalifa that yunes allowed his emirs to govern the country entirely according to their own ideas, with the result that prices were continually rising; and, in consequence of this report, he was recalled from dongola. this province being adjacent to the egyptian frontier, large numbers of the inhabitants had emigrated to egypt; and, as the egyptian garrison at wadi haifa was being constantly reinforced, the khalifa, dreading an attack, insisted on a more lenient treatment of the people. he therefore appointed khaled as yunes's successor, as he was convinced that his character and capabilities exactly suited him for this post, and instructed him that he should tax the people in accordance with the number of the sakias (water-wheels) and date-palms; but not being entirely without suspicion of khaled's behaviour, he ordered a detachment of his own men, armed with rifles, to be placed under arabi wad dafalla, whilst the spearmen of his own tribe were made over to mussaid. the natural outcome of these arrangements was renewed dissension. khaled, anxious to increase the revenue of the country without augmenting taxation, began filling up vacant posts with men of his own choice, whilst arabi and mussaid did their utmost to nominate their own relatives and friends; failing to arrange matters with khaled, they now began to make the most exorbitant demands, with which he could not possibly comply, and, from dissensions, they came to insults, and very nearly to blows, the two parties being actually drawn up facing each other with arms in their hands. khaled's party was composed principally of inhabitants of the nile valley,--jaalin and danagla,--whilst that of arabi and mussaid was composed of jehadia and western arabs. message after message was despatched to the khalifa by both sides, whilst actual conflict was prevented by intermediaries and peacefully disposed persons. abdullahi immediately sent yunes to take the place of arabi and mussaid, who were recalled; and, immediately after they had arrived, he sent instructions to khaled to appear before him in omdurman, to be present, he said, at the punishment of arabi and mussaid; but no sooner had he reached the capital than he was arraigned in court with his antagonists. the judges consisted of the khalifa as president, and a number of kadis and devoted emirs as members; khaled was accused of having spoken disparagingly of his master and relatives, by saying that they had been the cause of the ruin of the country. the khalifa's brother yakub was as usual at the bottom of this intrigue, and there is no doubt the khalifa himself regretted having given khaled so influential a position; he therefore gladly seized this opportunity of getting rid of him. during the proceedings a letter arrived from yunes (who had beforehand received yakub's private instructions) to the effect that whilst the parties were mediating, khaled had clandestinely concealed six boxes of ammunition, which he intended to send to his relatives in omdurman. before the arraignment, the khalifa had privately arranged the verdict, and of course no one dared to take the part of the accused; he was found guilty, sentenced to imprisonment for an indefinite period, and was hurried off to the saier, where he was kept in solitary confinement. curiously enough, an explanation of the khalifa's action appeared in an arabic newspaper published in cairo, in which an extract from the italian paper "la riforma" had been published to the effect that khaled had been in communication with the egyptian government for the surrender of the province with which he had been entrusted. in consequence of this, the khalifa again assembled the judges, showed them the newspaper as a proof of khaled's treachery; and he was at once condemned to be executed. the khalifa, however, declared that he was most anxious not to cause the death of one of the mahdi's relatives and a descendant of the prophet, he therefore commuted the sentence to imprisonment for life. his magnanimity on this occasion was of course praised on all sides, whilst he himself rejoiced that he had for ever ridden himself of the only one of the mahdi's relatives of whose knowledge and astuteness he was justly in considerable awe. he now used khaled's treachery as a handle by which to irritate the ashraf in general; and lost no opportunity of doing all he could to weaken their cause, and reduce them to a position of impotence, with the result that an insurrection eventually broke out in omdurman, which ended in the complete success of the plans which abdullahi had long since prepared. chapter xv. dissension and discord. the revolt of the ashraf--flight of father ohrwalder and the two sisters--the khalifa revenges himself on the ashraf--the seizure and execution of the mahdi's uncles--zeki tummal's return to omdurman laden with booty--khalifa sherif arrested--"where there is no fire, there is no smoke"--i change my quarters--sad news from austria--the khalifa falls ill--the story of the bird-messenger--the fall of zeki tummal--the battle of agordat--the capture of kassala--the fate of kadi ahmed--the congo free state in equatoria and bahr el ghazal--i refuse to marry the khalifa's cousin. the khalifa mohammed sherif, in conjunction with two of the mahdi's sons, who were scarcely twenty years of age, and many of his relatives, now agreed amongst themselves to shake off the hated yoke of khalifa abdullahi and seize the reins of government. they secretly elaborated their plans in omdurman, and gradually took into their confidence several of their friends and fellow-tribesmen. they also despatched letters to the danagla living in the gezira, whom they invited to come to omdurman and join them; but one of the jaalin emirs betrayed them. he had been bound over by an oath to tell only his brother or best friends; and he at once informed the khalifa, saying that he considered him his best friend. apprised of the conspiracy, abdullahi at once made counter arrangements; but the ashraf, warned by their spies of the khalifa's secret orders and doings, realised that their plot had been discovered, and immediately collected in that part of the town just north of the khalifa's house, prepared for the fray. all the ashraf and danagla in omdurman assembled in the houses in the vicinity of the mahdi's tomb; and the sailors and most of the boats' crews joined them, saying that they were ready to fight and conquer for the sake of the religion which the khalifa had abused. the arms which had been secretly hidden were now brought out and distributed. they numbered scarcely a hundred remington rifles, a small quantity of ammunition, and a few elephant guns. ahmed wad suleiman behaved like one demented. he declared that he had seen the prophet and the mahdi, who assured him of the victory of his party; and he urged forward the commencement of hostilities. even the mahdi's widows, who, after his death, had been kept strictly locked up in their houses by the khalifa, were not allowed to see any one, and were given scarcely sufficient food to keep them alive, longed for the conflict, hoping that their position would be ameliorated. indeed the um el muminin (the mother of the believers), the mahdi's principal widow, girded a sword round her waist, with the intention of taking a part in this holy war. whilst all this was going on at night, and within scarcely a hundred yards of the khalifa's house, he himself was quietly taking his precautions. it was on a monday evening, after prayers, that the khalifa summoned his special mulazemin, and, in a few words, informed us of the intentions of the ashraf. he instructed us to arm ourselves as best we could, and on no account to quit our posts in front of the gate. ammunition was served out to the black mulazemin jehadia, and they were ordered to take up positions in the streets leading to the houses of the rebels, and cut off any reinforcements which might attempt to join them. upwards of a thousand rifles were distributed amongst the taaisha arabs, who were posted in the open space between the mahdi's tomb and the khalifa's house, and also along the enclosure of the latter. the black troops, under the command of ahmed fedil, took up a position in the middle of the mosque, and there awaited further orders; and here also were posted the infantry spearmen and cavalry under the command of yakub. khalifa ali, whose people were suspected of sympathising with the rebels, was ordered to occupy the northern portion of the city, and cut off all communication in that direction. when the sun arose, the mutineers were completely surrounded; and they had now to choose between fighting and surrendering. before, however, any blows were exchanged, the khalifa despatched his kadi, accompanied by sayed mekki, to khalifa sherif and the mahdi's sons, reminding them of their late father's proclamation, and of the words he had spoken before his death. at the same time, he instructed the kadi to inquire into their grievances, which he promised to rectify, if it was possible for him to do so. the curt answer to the khalifa was that they preferred to fight. abdullahi had given strict injunctions to all his emirs to abstain, as far as possible, from blows, and only to defend themselves in the event of a sudden attack. he was most anxious to quell the insurrection by conciliatory measures, as he fully realised that, if a fight ensued in which there was little doubt he would be victorious, omdurman would almost certainly be sacked and ruined. he was well aware that the western arab tribes would gladly seize the occasion to satisfy their ruling passion for murder and plunder; their one desire would be to obtain all the loot they could, and to this end to spare neither friend nor foe, with the result that, in all probability, they would fight amongst themselves, and then go off to their own country, which they had quitted with considerable reluctance. once more he sent the kadi to the insurgents, who returned with a similar reply. personally, i longed for the fight, for i had only my life to lose, and that was in daily peril. i had before me the example of ibrahim adlan; and i knew that abdullahi had no regard for the lives of his best and truest friends. internal fighting must result in the weakening of my enemies, and that alone would have been a source of satisfaction to me; moreover, in the confusion which must arise, i might find an occasion to regain my liberty, and possibly i might be able to exercise some influence over the former government troops, who i knew were much dissatisfied with their present treatment. under such abnormal circumstances, it was impossible to frame any distinct plan of action. my desire was that a fight should take place, and that i should make as much capital out of it as i could for my own personal benefit. some of the most excited of the mutineers now began firing, and some of those on our side, contrary to orders, replied; but it was by no means a fight,--merely a few stray shots. the insurgents did not seem to know what they wanted; their party was undecided, their weapons were bad and out of repair, and so also was the courage of the ashraf and their followers. after a short time, the firing ceased, and on our side the total loss was five killed. again the khalifa sent out a proclamation, which was borne this time by khalifa ali wad helu, and to this summons the reply was more favourable; they wished to know, they said, the conditions of reconciliation; and they were then told to name their proposals. the negotiations continued all that day and far into the night. they began again the following day, and, to my great regret, a clear understanding was arrived at, and was agreed to by the khalifa under a solemn oath: he promised complete forgiveness to all who had taken part in the insurrection, to give to khalifa mohammed sherif a position worthy of his dignity, and a seat in council, to allow him to again take possession of the standards which, after nejumi's death, had been laid aside, and to collect volunteers under them, and promised pecuniary support from the beit el mal to the mahdi's relatives, in accordance with sherif's proposals. in return for these concessions, the insurgents agreed to give up all their arms, and submit unconditionally to the khalifa's orders. the agreement was now ratified, and the terms of peace concluded by the delegates on both sides; but somehow no one seemed in any hurry to execute them. on the following friday morning, the leaders of the insurgents came themselves before the khalifa, and obtained a renewal of the promises he had made, in return for which they gave fresh attestations of loyalty; and, on the same afternoon, khalifa sherif and the mahdi's sons approached abdullahi. peace was now fully concluded, and the cavalry and infantry, which had been with us day and night since the disturbances began, were permitted to leave the mosque and return to their quarters; but, as the arms had not yet been handed over, the jehadia and mulazemin were ordered to remain at their posts. on sunday afternoon, i had sent one of my servants to the missionary father, joseph ohrwalder, to inquire after him, and he had found his door closed; i had thoughtlessly made inquiries about him of his neighbours, the greeks and some of the former merchants who, as my servant told me, had made a most careful search for him, but had been unable to trace him or the missionary sisters who had been with him. it at once flashed through my mind that possibly, during the disturbances, he might have found some trusty persons who had undertaken to effect his escape; and so it eventually transpired. before evening prayer, the emir of the muslemania (europeans who had been forcibly made to adopt mohammedanism), and the syrian george stambuli anxiously came and asked to be taken before the khalifa, as they had something of considerable importance to tell him. the khalifa, fully occupied with matters which he considered of great importance, ordered them to wait at the mosque; and, after night prayers, he asked them what they wanted. with trembling voices, they informed him that yusef el gasis (joseph the priest) was missing since yesterday, also the women who were with him. very much annoyed, the khalifa at once summoned nur el gereifawi, the emin beit el mal, and mohammed wahbi, the prefect of the police, and commanded them to do all in their power to overtake the fugitives and bring them back to omdurman, dead or alive. it was fortunate for the poor greeks that the khalifa was so much occupied with other matters or he would--as ohrwalder had lived amongst them--have arrested many and confiscated their property. luckily, however, on the day of the outbreak, all the camels had been sent into the districts in order to bring in the troops; and gereifawi and wahbi could only procure three camels for the pursuit of ohrwalder, who knew that the success of his flight depended on its rapidity. from the depth of my heart i hoped he might succeed. he had suffered a great deal, and had borne it with christian fortitude and patience. i now felt completely deserted; he was the only man with whom i was intellectually on a par, and with whom i could--though very rarely--talk a few words in my mother tongue. the following day, i was summoned before the khalifa, who angrily reproached me for ohrwalder's flight. "he is one of your own race, and is in communication with you; why did you not draw my attention to its possibility, so that i might have taken precautions? i am positive you knew of his intention to escape," said he. "sire, pardon me!" said i; "how could i know of his intention to escape, and how could i tell you that he had done so? since the outbreak of the revolt attempted by your god-forsaken enemies, and which, thanks to the almighty, you have now defeated by your wisdom, i have not moved day or night from my post. had i known that he was a traitor, i should have at once told you of it." to this he angrily replied, "no doubt your consul arranged for him to be taken away from here." amongst the last letters which i had received, was one written in arabic from the austro-hungarian consul-general, von rosty, to the khalifa, in which he thanked him for the kind treatment of the members of the former catholic mission, and, at the same time, asked his permission to send them a messenger, for whom he begged a free pass, as they were under austrian protection, and as his majesty the emperor had a special regard for them. the khalifa had shown me the letter, which he had left unanswered; but from that day he had looked upon the members of the mission as my compatriots, and was now convinced that they had been assisted to escape by the aid of the consul-general. i now remarked to the khalifa that possibly merchants belonging to the frontier tribes, and who often came to omdurman, might have taken advantage of the disturbances in order to help ohrwalder and the sisters to escape, so as to obtain some pecuniary reward for themselves. abdullahi, who was still much pre-occupied with the revolt, came round to my opinion; and, after admonishing me to remain perfectly loyal, he dismissed me. in spite of the reluctance of the ashraf to surrender their arms, they were gradually obliged to give them all up; and, having achieved this much, the khalifa now set to work to mature his scheme of revenge. twenty days perhaps had passed since the beginning of the outbreak, but we were still kept in constant readiness, watching day and night over our master. he now summoned the two khalifas, the kadis, and the chiefs of the ashraf and danagla to a meeting. he reproached the latter severely, saying, that in spite of his previous pardon, they had shown great reluctance in obeying his orders, they seldom attended prayers, and were scarcely ever present at the friday morning parades; he also had the mahdi's proclamation read out to them. then, true to the system adopted by his predecessor, of acting entirely in accordance with prophetic inspiration, he announced to the meeting that the prophet had appeared to him, and had commanded him to mete out punishment to the disobedient, whom he had mentioned by name. thirteen persons in all were included in this category: ahmed wad suleiman, whom he detested, headed the list; then followed shenudi, one of the khalifa's secretaries, a dongolawi who was under suspicion of sympathising with the rebels and giving them information of the khalifa's plans. one by one, as each name was called, the unfortunate wretches had their hands tied behind their backs, were carried off to the prison, and thrown into chains; a few days later, the khalifa sent them by boat, under a strong escort, to fashoda, where zeki tummal had them closely confined for eight days in a zariba with scarcely any food or water, giving them only just sufficient to keep them alive; then, in accordance with the secret instructions he had received, he had them beaten to death with freshly cut sticks from thorny trees. the execution took place in front of the whole army, and, before this cruel operation began, their clothing was ruthlessly torn from their emaciated bodies. immediately the insurrection was over, the khalifa despatched two of his relatives, ibrahim wad melek and saleh hamedo,--the former to the blue and the latter to the white nile,--to arrest all the followers and relatives of the ashraf, who, being absent, were not included in the general amnesty. in compliance with these orders, upwards of a thousand men were sent in shebas to omdurman, where they were accused by the khalifa of having taken part in the conspiracy. for many days, they were kept in close confinement, huddled together in the prison-yard, and in hourly dread of execution; but at length the khalifa pardoned them, on condition that they should share all they possessed with him; and of course the poor wretches had to agree to these conditions. orders were issued to carry out the distribution in accordance with the curious arithmetical rules instituted by the khalifa, who, of course, received the lion's share; on their return to their villages, they found themselves divested of almost everything they possessed. those who had been well off were left with a mere pittance; and the poorer members had nothing, whilst they found their daughters had been dishonoured, and their wives abused. deprived of all their arms, they had to submit to the inevitable; but in their hearts they longed for some opportunity of revenge. the khalifa, after having taken all he required of their property for himself and his brother, distributed the remainder amongst the western arabs, and of these, the jubarat section, to which he belonged, was given the largest share. this roused the discontent of the other tribes, to whom the taaisha had for some considerable time been a constant source of annoyance; not only were they given the preference in almost every case; but they were over-bearingly insolent, and whenever complaints were made to the khalifa or yakub, the petitioners were invariably sharply rebuked. during all these disturbances, the natives in the provinces and the various garrisons had remained quiet; and their commanders had received secret instructions to gradually disarm the danagla, of whose disloyalty there was no longer any doubt. abdullahi now turned his attention to the mahdi's two uncles, mohammed abdel kerim and abdel kader wad sati ali. he affirmed he had received information that they were indignant about his actions, and had been guilty of instigating others against him; they utterly denied the charge, but were sentenced by kadi ali to imprisonment. the khalifa ordered them to be put in chains, and sent on to zeki tummal, who, as usual, was provided with secret instructions. zeki's forces had dispersed all the shilluk gatherings throughout the country, and destroyed their villages; but, an epidemic of typhus having broken out amongst the men, the khalifa ordered him to quit fashoda and come with his entire army to omdurman, but, before doing so, to raid the dinka tribe, who had already made their submission without fighting, seize their cattle and enslave their wives and children. these unsuspecting blacks were summoned together under the pretext of a great feast; and, when all had assembled, they were massacred almost to a man, and their wives, children, and cattle carried off. whilst on this expedition he met, near gebel ahmed agha, the boat conveying the mahdi's uncles; and, having perused the letters from omdurman, he ordered the prisoners to be landed after sunset. the wretched captives, knowing the fate that was in store for them, besought pardon, but were only jeered at by zeki tummal; they were taken inland, and their heads were split open with the small axes which are used in the sudan for lopping off branches of trees. zeki tummal now returned to omdurman laden with booty; he brought with him thousands of female slaves, and immense herds of cattle, the sale of which brought in a large sum of ready money. most of zeki's emirs indignantly complained of his tyranny, and even asserted to the khalifa that, if he could obtain sufficient followers, he would not hesitate to make himself independent; but the latter, by making rich presents of female slaves, money, and cattle to the khalifa and his brother, succeeded in remaining in their good graces. whilst zeki tummal was in omdurman, the khalifa carried out a series of manoeuvres between his forces and those quartered in omdurman, and personally took the command; but as he had absolutely no idea of military science, and as the thirty thousand troops of whom he disposed were entirely without discipline, the manoeuvres resulted in the most hopeless confusion and disorder; and the blame for this invariably fell on my devoted head, for the khalifa employed me as a sort of aide-de-camp, and when he became inextricably muddled up he hurled abuse at me, and said i had purposely perverted his orders to make mischief. of course, i did not dare remonstrate with him, and quietly continued to carry out his orders. at length he declared the exercises over, ordered zeki tummal off to gallabat, and, as was usually the case, commended me for my services, and presented me with two black young ladies as a proof of his good-will. meanwhile, khalifa sherif had heard of the murder of his two relatives, and openly protested against this tyrannical proceeding; thus giving abdullahi an opportunity of taking the revenge for which he had so patiently waited. he declared him to be guilty of disobedience to the instructions which the mahdi had so strictly enforced, and of inattention to the divine inspiration of the prophet. he therefore ordered khalifa ali and the kadis to take him to task for the manner in which he had expressed himself, and to point out to him that the entirely false impression he had of his own rights as khalifa had brought about the death of his own relatives and followers. promptly assembling all the kadis and principal emirs, they decided that khalifa sherif should be immediately arrested; on the following day, the mulazemin being formed up in square on the open space between abdullahi's house and the mahdi's tomb, they went in a body to him, informed him that he was to be arrested, counselled submission, and advised him to come with them of his own free-will. too late, he now realised what he had brought upon himself by his careless and ill-considered talking. going outside, he was received by the mulazemin under the command of arabi dafalla; when he asked for his shoes, they were refused him; and, on coming out of the mosque, he was driven and pushed along at such a rate that he twice fell to the ground from pure exhaustion, arriving at length at the saier in a deplorable condition. here six irons were hammered on to his legs, so that he could scarcely move; and a small straw hut was allotted to him as his abode. cut off from all intercourse with his fellow-creatures, and with only the bare ground to lie upon, he had ample time to realise that the sacred promises given by a khalifa were of no avail when it was a question of upholding his authority, or satisfying his thirst for vengeance. the mahdi's two young sons were sent to their grandfather, ahmed sharfi, who was ordered to keep them closely locked up in his house, and allow no one to see them. this ahmed was an old man, and had made an immense fortune by robbery; fearing to lose it, he was as submissive as a slave to the khalifa, and had thus to some extent gained his affection. soon after this occurrence, i passed through a period of considerable excitement. yunes had sent on a man from dongola to the khalifa; he had come from cairo, and was charged with important information from the government. he was received personally by the khalifa in the presence of all the kadis. i had a foreboding that the man's arrival was somehow connected with me, and i endeavoured to discover from one of the kadis, who was a friend of mine, what had happened; he hurriedly told me that i had nothing to fear, and advised me not to show the slightest interest in the matter, lest i might be suspected. after prayers, the kadis and the messenger were again summoned before the khalifa, and, to my great relief, i saw the man soon afterwards tied hand and foot and carried off to prison. my comrades were quarrelling amongst themselves as to the cause of the man's imprisonment; but, mindful of the advice i had received, i was careful to abstain from any interference. the following day, when i had gone to my house for a short time, i was suddenly summoned by the khalifa, and found several of the kadis with him. in compliance with his orders, i seated myself down with them, and he began to speak. turning to the assembly, he informed them that he had continually urged me to be loyal, that he cared for me as a father cared for his son, and that he had steadily refused to believe the numerous accusations which were, from time to time, brought up against me; and then, turning to me, he completed his speech with the arabic proverb, "where there is no fire, there is no smoke," adding, "but with you there is a great deal of smoke. the messenger said yesterday that you are a government spy, and that your monthly salary is paid to your representative in cairo, who forwards it to you here. he affirms that he has seen your signature in the government office in egypt, and that you assisted yusef el gasis to escape; he adds, moreover, that you are pledged to the english, in the event of an attack on omdurman, to seize the powder and ammunition stores, which they know are situated opposite to your house. we have at once had the man imprisoned, for he formerly escaped from here; what have you to say in your defence?" "sire!" i replied, "god is merciful, and you are just. i am no spy: i have never had any communication with the government; and it is absolutely untrue that i receive a salary which is forwarded to me here. my brothers, your mulazemin, who go in and out of my house, know that i am often in the greatest want, and it is only my deep respect for you which prevents me from complaining; but if he states that he has seen my signature, then he is guilty of a second lie, for i am certain that he is quite unable to read any european language. i will, if you wish, write on a paper several names, and amongst them my own; if he can discover it, then it will be a proof that he can read our language; but that will not necessarily prove that i am a spy." "and what else have you against the man?" asked the khalifa. "what service has the man rendered to government," i continued; "that, supposing i am a spy, i should trust this fugitive with my secrets. as far as yusef el gasis is concerned, you, my master, well know that he escaped at a time when it was absolutely impossible for me to have any communication with him. i, who am always near you, have no intercourse with people who assist others to fly; and even supposing i had, and that i were a traitor, it would certainly be much more natural that i should have escaped myself. it is quite possible the english may know that my house is opposite to the powder magazine; for the man who, with your kind permission, brought me the letters from my brothers and sisters knew it, and, in all probability, told them about it. it is also possible that my relatives with whom, at your express command, i have ceased to have any communication, should make inquiries about my welfare through the government clerks and merchants who sometimes go from here to cairo, and who probably know the position of my house; but the assertion that, in case of war, i had engaged myself to seize your ammunition stores, is quite ridiculous. as far as i can judge, the government would never dare to attack you, who are the ever victorious and unconquerable khalifa, in your own country; and if this well-nigh impossible event should take place, how do i know that i shall be in my present house at that time? moreover, at such a critical period, my hope and desire is to stand in the front rank of your victorious troops, and there seek an opportunity of proving my loyalty and devotion by shedding my blood in your cause. sire, i rely upon your justice, which is well known to all; will you sacrifice one who has been for so many years your devoted servant, to the whim of a dongolawi who is one of your enemies?" "how do you know that the man who has given evidence against you is a dongolawi?" asked the khalifa, quickly. "some time ago i saw the man at your gate with abderrahman wad en nejumi esh shahid ("the martyr," as he was called after his death),[ ] and owing to his forwardness and impudence i had to call on your mulazemin to remove him by main force; no doubt he now wishes to revenge himself, and at the same time curry favour with you, by casting suspicion on me. you to whom god has given wisdom to govern your subjects, will also judge me righteously and fairly." "i have summoned you here," said the khalifa, after a long pause, "not to judge you, but to show you that, in spite of the frequent attempts to cast suspicion on you, i have in no way withdrawn my confidence in you. had i believed what the man said, i should not have imprisoned him; no doubt you have enemies here, and there are probably envious people who are jealous of your being near me. but beware! where there is no fire, there is no smoke." he then signed to me to withdraw, and soon afterwards the assembly broke up. that night i asked one of my comrades whom i knew i could trust, to tell me what the khalifa had said after i had left. he told me that abdullahi admitted the man was a liar, but that there might be some truth in his statement; he had also said i might possibly have enemies in cairo who were intriguing against me. this had also occurred to me whilst i was speaking, but i did not mention it, as i hesitated to throw down all my cards; now that he had thought of it himself, my silence had stood me in good stead, for i could bring forward this argument in my defence, should some fresh accusation be brought against me. but how long was i to continue in this wretched position? how long was i to keep up this constant strain of always standing on the defensive; how much longer could my present relations with the khalifa last? i knew he was only waiting for an opportunity to make me harmless, for he was perfectly well aware that i was at heart his enemy; but in truth i thanked god most fervently that he treated me with greater leniency than he did the rest. how difficult it was to carry out madibbo's advice; but how true it was that he who lives long sees much! the following morning, after prayers, as i was on my way home, i was overtaken by gereifawi, who had succeeded adlan and was on friendly terms with me. "you are a rare visitor," said i, shaking hands with him; "please god you have good reasons for it!" "yes," said he; "but i am come to disturb you. i require your house; and i must ask you to leave it to-day. i will give you one in place of it which lies to the southeast of the mosque, and in which the khalifa's guests are usually housed; it is somewhat smaller than your own, but you have only the road between it and the mosque, and this will thoroughly suit a pious man like you!" "all right," said i; "but tell me privately who sent you here, the khalifa or yakub?" "ah, that is a secret!" said he, laughing; "but after your conversation yesterday with the khalifa, you can surely understand the reason; probably," he continued ironically, "our master, out of his great love for you, wishes to have you in close proximity to himself; your house is scarcely two hundred paces from his own. when may i come and take over your old house?" "i shall have finished moving by the evening," said i; "it will take me some little time to remove the fodder for my horse and mule. is the house i am to have uninhabited?" "of course it is. i have given orders for it to be cleaned, and will now return to make the necessary arrangements; but you had better begin moving at once, and i hope your new house will bring better luck than your old one," said gereifawi, leaving me. undoubtedly this was a very clear case of want of confidence in me on the khalifa's part. he was anxious to remove me from the neighbourhood of the ammunition stores and powder magazine, which, in case of war, i was supposed to seize. i now called together my household, and told them to begin moving at once. they cursed the khalifa freely, and called down all the punishments of heaven on his head. little by little, year by year, they had gone on building. they had dug wells fifty feet deep, had planted lemon and pomegranate trees, which were just about to bear fruit, and had, so to speak, made themselves comfortable. for me, the move was quite immaterial. how i had prayed to leave this house, though not in this way! however, as gereifawi had said, perhaps the new house would bring me better luck; and i was by no means the only man who had been turned out of his abode at short notice. the whole portion of the city lying north of the khalifa's house had been vacated at a moment's notice by the ashraf and their relatives; and they had not even been allowed to remove their furniture, nor had they received the smallest compensation. they had been given a patch of stony ground to the west of the town, where they had been ordered to build fresh houses. after all, i was better off than they. recent events had depressed me considerably, and i saw that the situation was now becoming almost unbearable; but more trouble was in store for me which was to throw completely into the background that of which i now complained. one of my acquaintances, a darfur merchant who had frequently travelled backwards and forwards to egypt, alexandria, and syria, and who had gradually understood the various nationalities, realised that i was an austrian. he had surmised correctly that, although a captive for many years, and shut off from all communication with my own people, i still took an intense interest in all that concerned my native land. he spoke to me in the mosque, told me hurriedly about affairs in egypt, and then handed me an egyptian newspaper of old date which, he said, had accidentally come into his hands in alexandria, and which contained an article about austrian affairs. hurrying home, i opened the paper, and found, to my dismay, the news of the death of our crown prince rudolf. i cannot describe the distress which this news caused me. i had served in his regiment; and i had never given up hope that some day i should return home, and have the pleasure of assuring him that, under all the strange and sad circumstances of my eventful life, i had always endeavoured to uphold the honour of an officer belonging to the imperial regiment. but what were the trials and troubles of one obscure individual in comparison with this great national calamity,--nothing! again and again my mind turned to the grief of our beloved emperor, to whom we austrians look up as to a father. what must he have felt and suffered! here in the midst of this unsympathetic crowd my mind was filled with these sad thoughts; but i did not dare show that i was affected. it required all my self-control to hide from the rude gaze of the mahdists the expressions of distress which came over my face when i thought of my beloved home; and, in the internal struggle which was going on almost continuously, i sometimes longed for the time when an end should be put to my wretched existence. to-day all the old sores had broken out afresh. the man would have done me a far greater service had he kept back the newspaper. it had only brought fresh trouble upon me, and depressed me more than ever. my comrades at the khalifa's door--ignorant of the real cause of my sorrow--advised me to appear as cheerful as possible, and to show no displeasure about my enforced removal to another house, as the khalifa was sure to have instructed his spies to watch me carefully, and see how i took his unwelcome order. i therefore tried to look as unconcerned as possible, and, to account for my depression, i pretended to be unwell,--what a life of dissimulation! fortunately the khalifa was busied with other matters. a letter had reached him from ahmed wad ali at gallabat, complaining of the treatment he received at the hands of his superior, zeki tummal; and, a few days afterwards, he arrived, in order to make his complaint personally. he said that in his own name, and in the name of all the other emirs, he refused to put up with the continual insults and arbitrary confiscation of property on the part of zeki, whom he also accused of conspiring to make himself independent. the khalifa knew perfectly well that most of these complaints arose from zeki's unpopularity with his assistants. he therefore wrote to him to at once refund all the confiscated property, and to accord to his emirs the treatment to which their position entitled them. at the same time, he instructed ahmed wad ali to return forthwith to gallabat, and gave him secret orders to watch closely his chief's movements, and personally report to him. abu girga, who by this time had been recalled from kassala, and had been replaced there by mussaid, being a dongolawi, was considered by the khalifa to be a source of danger in omdurman. under the pretext, therefore, of sending reinforcements to reggaf, he despatched him with two steamers up the white nile, and, at the same time, omar saleh was recalled to give a report of affairs in equatoria. abu girga was nominated emir of the whole country, and commander of all the rifle and spear men; but, at the same time, mukhtar wad abaker, one of the khalifa's relatives, was appointed to superintend him. a few days after the steamers had left, the khalifa fell seriously ill with an attack of typhus fever. all omdurman watched the course of the illness with the most intense anxiety, for his death would have been the signal for a complete change in the administration of the country. khalifa ali wad helu, who, according to mahdist law, should be the successor, watched the illness with almost breathless interest; and his followers and tribe showed such deep concern that they fell under the suspicion of wishing to seize the reins of government. the khalifa's powerful constitution, however, got the better of the malady; and it seemed as if the wretched inhabitants of the sudan had not been sufficiently punished, and that god did not yet intend to remove from them this terrible scourge. after an illness of about three weeks, abdullahi took the first possible opportunity of appearing before his followers, who greeted him with frantic acclamations,--the outcome, in the majority of cases, of a desire merely to make a noise. only his own relatives and some of the western arabs really rejoiced at his recovery. but the khalifa had no delusions about the imaginary sentiment to which his followers had given vent during his illness. he knew perfectly well that in showing the preference to his own tribe, he had given umbrage to many of the western arabs, who, being strangers in the land, it was most necessary to retain on his side. the inhabitants of the nile valley and of the gezira, the majority of whom were jaalin and danagla, were his enemies; but, disarmed, and their property confiscated, he had made them powerless, and every now and then he sent considerable detachments of them to reinforce darfur, gallabat, and reggaf. he did not hide from himself that khalifa ali and his followers were anxious to step into his shoes; but he knew that they would never be foolish enough to attempt to carry out their plans by main force, as the ashraf had done. now that i had my abode close to him, he was more suspicious than ever of me. he continually inquired of my comrades if this strict supervision did not make me indignant, and he did all he could to find fault with my conduct; but, fortunately, the mulazemin were on friendly terms with me, and always reported favourably of me. at the same time, they secretly warned me that the khalifa's dislike of me was increasing, and that i must be most careful. one day, in the month of december, , when i had just left the khalifa's door to take a short rest, one of the mulazemin summoned me to the khalifa's presence. i found him in the reception room, surrounded by his kadis, and the threats and reprimands which i had received on the occasion of taib haj ali's calumny were still fresh in my mind. i was therefore considerably dismayed when the khalifa, without returning my salute, ordered me to take my seat amongst the judges. "take this thing," said he, after a short pause, and in a very severe tone, "and see what it contains." i at once arose and took in both hands the object he gave me, and then sat down again. it consisted of a brass ring of about four centimetres in diameter, attached to which was a small metal case about the size and shape of a revolver cartridge. an attempt had been made to open it, and i could plainly see that it contained a paper. this was indeed an anxious moment for me. could it be a letter from my relations, or from the egyptian government; and had the messenger who brought it been captured? whilst i was engaged in opening the case with the knife which had been given me, i turned over in my mind how i should act, and what i should say; and, as good luck would have it, i had not on this occasion to have recourse to dissimulation. pulling out two small papers, and opening them, i found inscribed on them, in minute but legible handwriting, in german, french, english, and russian languages the following:-- this crane has been bred and brought up on my estate at ascania nova, in the province of tauride, in south russia. whoever catches or kills this bird is requested to communicate with me, and inform me where it occurred. (signed) f. r. falz-fein. september, . i now raised my head, which hitherto i had kept closely bent down; and the khalifa asked, "well, what do the papers contain?" "sire," i replied, "this case must have been fastened to the neck of a bird which has been killed. its owner, who lives in europe, has requested that any one who finds the bird should let him know where it was caught or killed." "you have spoken the truth," said the khalifa, in a somewhat more amiable tone; "the bird was killed by a shaigi near dongola, and the cartridge case was found attached to its neck. he took it to the emir yunes, whose secretary was unable to decipher the writing of the christian, and he therefore forwarded it to me. tell me now what is written on the paper?" i translated the message, word for word, and, at the khalifa's command also tried to describe the geographical position of the country from which the bird had come, and the distance it had travelled before it was killed. "this is one of the many devilries of those unbelievers," he said, at last, "who waste their time in such useless nonsense. a mohammedan would never have attempted to do such a thing." he then ordered me to hand over the case to his secretary, and signed to me to withdraw; but i managed to take one more hurried glance at the paper,--ascania nova, tauride, south russia, i repeated over and over again to imprint it on my memory. the mulazemin at the door anxiously awaited my return; and when i came out from the presence of my tyrannical master with a placid countenance, they seemed greatly pleased. on my way to my house, i continued to repeat to myself the name of the writer and his residence, and determined, that should providence ever grant me my freedom, i should not fail to let him know what had happened to his bird. in accordance with orders, mahmud ahmed now returned to omdurman with all his available troops (about five thousand) from darfur, leaving there only sufficient men for the garrison. he pitched his camp at dem yunes on the south side of the city. once more i underwent a period of considerable trial. the khalifa again instituted a series of military manoeuvres for all the troops in omdurman; and, as usual, they resulted in the wildest confusion. i had to perform the duties of aide-de-camp, and invariably had to bear the blame for everything that went wrong; but all things come to an end, and at last mahmud ahmed was ordered back to gallabat, after his troops had renewed their oath of allegiance, in return for which they received some new jibbas. the khalifa now turned his attention to the equatorial regions, where abu girga resided as nominal governor, and despatched two steamers with three hundred men, under the command of his relative arabi dafalla, to reggaf with instructions to depose abu girga, and throw him into chains. it was abundantly clear that the latter had only been sent to reggaf to get him out of the way. dafalla's departure was also taken advantage of to exile khaled, who had been lying heavily chained in the saier. dafalla was instructed to extend the mahdist territory as far as possible in all directions, and to send back to omdurman as many slaves and as much ivory as he could obtain. whilst the expedition was being got ready, the khalifa, under the pretext of giving zeki tummal special verbal instructions regarding an intended campaign against the italians, recalled him to omdurman. ahmed wad ali had faithfully carried out his secret instructions, which had resulted in the recall of his chief. a few days after the steamers had left, zeki arrived at omdurman accompanied by some of the emirs whom he looked upon as friendly. during his absence, he had nominated ahmed wad ali as his representative, and had ordered him to await his return at gedaref. the khalifa, to all outward appearance, received zeki in the most friendly manner possible; and, a few days after his arrival, in spite of their orders, ahmed wad ali and the other emirs arrived at omdurman, and were frequently received in secret audience by abdullahi. they brought proofs of zeki's duplicity and disobedience to the khalifa's commands in not restoring the property which he had confiscated; and they showed how he had subverted his instructions by inducing his men to become participators in a conspiracy by which he should become independent. the khalifa and his brother yakub took counsel together, and agreed to make him harmless once and for all. they thought that if they merely removed him from his position, dissensions might arise amongst his men. on the following morning, therefore, the unsuspecting zeki, relying on the former services he had rendered, and anticipating merely a reprimand, was enticed into yakub's house, where he was immediately seized from behind by four men, his sword wrenched from him, and his hands tied behind his back. he had frequently spoken disrespectfully of yakub and kadi ahmed, saying that, in comparison with a brave warrior like himself, they were little better than women, and were only happy in receiving presents and leading comfortable and voluptuous lives. disarmed and bound, he was now brought, a miserable captive, before his master, who awaited him in an adjoining court. "well, my fine hero, where is your courage now?" said yakub. "you owed your promotion to me," said kadi ahmed, who, when zeki had been nominated to the supreme command, had conveyed the news to him in gallabat; "and now you have to thank me for your present humiliation. praise be to god, who has preserved me to this day in order that i may see you standing thus before me." livid with rage, and grinding his teeth, zeki answered, "i have been surprised and betrayed. were i in an open field, not a hundred men like you would terrify me. i know i am lost; but after my death you will try to find men like me to take my place, and you will not find them." at a signal from yakub, he was hurried off to the general prison, where his body was covered with as much weight of iron as it could possibly bear. he was then removed to a small detached stone hut, deprived of all communication with others, and not even allowed sufficient bread and water to sustain life, and consequently, after an imprisonment of twenty days, he succumbed to hunger and thirst. on his arrest, his house was sequestrated, and in it were found fifty thousand maria theresa and medjidi dollars, and quantities of gold rings and other jewellery looted from the abyssinians. some of the black soldiers who were devoted to him, and had accompanied him from gallabat, were also thrown into chains and died of starvation. ahmed wad ali now succeeded zeki in the supreme command, and at once returned to gedaref, whither, in the meantime, the entire army had moved from gallabat. in accordance with the khalifa's instructions, he confiscated the whole of his predecessor's property, consisting of horses, camels, cattle, and slaves, which he despatched, together with all his wives (numbering one hundred and sixty-four), and twenty-seven children, to omdurman. the khalifa kept the cattle and slaves for himself, and distributed the childless widows amongst his followers; but he married the mothers to his slaves, so that the children, whose father had been a slave, should be brought up as slaves. seven of zeki's brothers and near relatives were cruelly murdered by ahmed wad ali; and one of his sisters was flogged to death on the pretext that she had concealed money. wad ali, now in supreme command, was anxious to refute any idea of timidity, and sought to gain military renown. he obtained the khalifa's permission to undertake operations against the arab tribes living between kassala and the red sea, who were subject to the italians; but he received distinct orders not to attack any troops quartered in forts. he was allowed to utilise the services of the kassala garrison under mussaid gaidum, and now made all preparations for a campaign. leaving gedaref with his army, early in november, , he joined the kassala troops, and his force numbered in all some four thousand five hundred riflemen, four thousand spearmen, and two hundred and fifty horsemen, and advanced against the eastern arab tribes,--the beni amer, hadendoa, and others. the latter, apprised of his intention, drove off their cattle and retired before him; but at agordat he came up with the italian troops, who were in an entrenched position. as they were in such small numbers, he resolved, in spite of the khalifa's instructions, to attack them; but he was heavily defeated, and himself killed, together with his two principal leaders, abdalla wad ibrahim and abder rasul, and a number of emirs. the loss in killed and missing was estimated at about two thousand, and these belonged, almost without exception, to the gedaref force, because mussaid and the kassala troops did not come to ahmed wad ali's assistance. had the italian troops been in a position to pursue the mahdists, who were retreating in wild disorder on kassala, there is little doubt the latter would have been almost entirely annihilated. the news of the defeat and death of ahmed wad ali caused the greatest consternation in omdurman, though in public the khalifa tried to appear unconcerned. he affirmed that the losses sustained by the italians were infinitely greater than those suffered by his troops, and that he thanked god, ahmed wad ali and some of his leaders had died the death of martyrs on the field of battle, fighting against the cursed christians. in reality, however, he spent many sleepless nights; for he feared that the italians, encouraged by their victory, would be induced to advance on kassala, and he fully realised that, in view of the panic which prevailed, they would have no difficulty in seizing and occupying it. it was not till some days had elapsed, and he had received news that the enemy had not quitted its position, that he calmed down somewhat, and began to consider whom he should nominate as wad ali's successor. the army of the latter had been dispersed throughout the gedaref districts; and it was necessary to despatch reinforcements without delay. the inhabitants of omdurman, however, saw in the defeat of wad ali, heaven's just retribution for the death of zeki tummal, who, though he had been guilty of cruelty and oppression, had been the victim of intrigue and false evidence. they were justly enraged against the khalifa, who in his vengeance had not been satisfied with zeki tummal's murder, but had also massacred his relatives and seized his women and children. the khalifa now nominated his cousin ahmed fedil as commander of the gedaref army, and gave him strict injunctions to remain entirely on the defensive. he proceeded to his post by way of kassala, in order to collect the scattered troops, who, after the defeat at agordat, had forced themselves on the villagers, and were harrying the country for food. once again the khalifa's equanimity was upset by a rumour that the italians now intended advancing on kassala; but this news was followed soon afterwards by a contradiction, and he became pacified. indeed, he had publicly announced his intention of avenging ahmed wad ali's defeat, though in reality he had not the slightest idea of doing so; but, in his ignorance, he believed that these false threats would prevent his enemies from assuming the offensive. he also sent small detachments of horse and spear men to gedaref. a few months had elapsed since this catastrophe, when one day, just after morning prayers, three men presented themselves at the door of the khalifa's house, and urgently demanded to be taken before him. i at once recognised them as baggara emirs, who had been stationed at kassala, and from the expression of their faces i could see that the news they brought would not be welcome to the khalifa. in a few minutes, they were admitted, and soon afterwards a considerable disturbance took place round the khalifa's door. khalifa ali wad helu, yakub, as well as all the kadis, received a sudden summons to attend at a council. the khalifa's suspicions had been verified, and kassala, after a short fight, had been captured by the italians. [illustration: the khalifa inciting his troops to attack kassala.] it was impossible to withhold this news from the public. the ombeija was sounded, the great war-drums were beaten, the horses were saddled, and the khalifa, accompanied by all his mulazemin and an immense number of horse and spear men, solemnly rode down to the banks of the nile. arrived here, he forced his horse into the river till the water reached its knees; and, drawing out his sword, and pointing towards the east, he shouted out in a loud voice, "allahu akbar! allahu akbar!" (god is most great!). each time the cry was taken up by the immense crowd; but the majority were inwardly rejoicing at the khalifa's discomfiture. they longed for him to receive fresh humiliation, thinking thereby to lighten the terrible yoke they bore. after this display, the khalifa turned his horse about, came back to the river bank, dismounted, and sat down on his sheepskin. a great crowd now collected round him; and he informed them of the fall of kassala, declaring that his followers had been taken unawares by enormous numbers of the enemy, just after morning prayers, and had been forced to retire. he stated, however, that all the war material, women, and children had been saved, that the losses had been insignificant, whilst the enemy had suffered so heavily that they now bitterly regretted having taken the town. even his most devoted adherents well knew that these words were a mere pretext for covering a disgraceful defeat. almost immediately after the three emirs had arrived in omdurman, it was known far and wide that the garrison had been surprised, that partly from fear, and partly owing to the unpopularity of mussaid, they had refused to fight; and, almost without offering any resistance, they had retired towards goz regeb. the khalifa now realised that his capital was more fully exposed than ever to a successful advance on the part of his enemies; but he had not yet learnt all; and when it eventually came to his ears that his faithful followers, instead of gladly laying down their lives for the cause, had lost the fanatical spirit which had for so many years made them the terror of their enemies, he understood that not only in kassala had public opinion changed, but that throughout the whole country his popularity had waned. he now took occasion to announce publicly that kassala was merely a minor position of no special importance; but that in a short time he meant to retake it, as well as the entire country up to the shores of the red sea. he returned home late that evening, and held a council with his brother yakub and the kadis, regarding the precautions which should now be taken. he must have bitterly regretted the absence of his chief kadi, ahmed wad ali, who, though he neither sought nor took his advice, had been his faithful friend and servant for the last ten years. as chief judge, he had acquired an immense influence in the country; and, considering the circumstances, he had during that time collected very considerable wealth. upwards of a thousand slaves worked on his immense estates. he employed merchants to take the produce, such as india-rubber and ostrich feathers, to egypt. he possessed immense herds of cattle, and quantities of camels and magnificent horses; but his most coveted possession was his harem, in which were collected a large number of lovely women and female slaves. all this had roused the cupidity of yakub and of the khalifa's young son. the former was intensely irritated against ahmed, as he seldom paid the smallest attention to his opinions or proposals. even the khalifa had become jealous of his influence, and lent a willing ear to yakub's insinuations that he abused his power, and made use of his position to increase his own wealth. under the pretext that ahmed had acted contrary to the instructions which the khalifa had specially laid down, he himself, as president of the court of kadis, had sentenced him to perpetual imprisonment. thus a just retribution had at length fallen on the head of this unscrupulous judge, who had ruthlessly condemned numbers of innocent persons, had robbed them of all they possessed, had turned wives and children into widows and orphans, and had perpetrated every description of injustice. he had been seized by the black soldiers, thrown into prison, and lost all his wealth, whilst the khalifa, his son, and his brother yakub had rifled his harem of the best and prettiest women, and distributed the remainder amongst their followers. the khalifa knew perfectly well the difficulties of re-capturing kassala; but, in order to make a show of doing something, he sent instructions to osman digna, who was at adarama on the atbara, some three days' march from berber, to join mussaid at goz regeb with all his available forces. at the same time, he ordered ahmed fedil to make a military post of a thousand rifles at el fasher on the atbara, about one and a half days' journey from kassala. he also sent detachments of troops from omdurman to asubri on the atbara, midway between el fasher and goz regeb. he continued to assert most resolutely that he intended shortly to advance on kassala; but all these arrangements were made entirely with a view to establishing a series of defensive posts along the line of the atbara, whilst the troops he was constantly collecting were intended to oppose the advance of the enemy towards omdurman. in the midst of all this disturbance and excitement, the satisfactory news arrived that a messenger sent by arabi from reggaf had arrived at omdurman from katena, a town on the white nile. two steamers soon followed, bringing cargoes of ivory and slaves; and, in a day or two, four hundred male slaves were marched with great pomp and ceremony through the city, as proof of dafalla's successes in the equatorial regions. as a matter of fact, the latter had attacked and defeated a detachment of emin pasha's troops who had separated from the main body, and had been living independently, and at their own risk, in a track of country governed by fadl el maula, one of emin's subalterns. on the pasha's departure, this man had entered into communication with the advanced agents of the congo free state, and had agreed with them that, if they should assist him to re-occupy the equatorial province, he would enter their service. his real intentions, however, were to remain independent, and though nominally a servant of the congo free state, to derive from them as much profit as he could for his own personal benefit. misled by false information, fadl el maula had ventured close to the station of reggaf, which he believed to be only lightly held by the mahdists; but he discovered his mistake too late. he beat a rapid retreat, but was followed up and overtaken, after several days' march, by arabi dafalla, who surprised his camp whilst most of the men were out on a foray. fadl el maula himself was killed, with most of the men in camp, whilst defending their wives and children; and arabi captured a quantity of loot, all the women and children, and a number of rifles. amongst the trophies he sent to omdurman were four congo free state flags made of blue bunting, with a five-pointed yellow star in the centre, also two suits of black uniform with buttons, on which the words "travail et progrès" were engraved. this was the first time i had seen the badge of the congo free state, of the existence of which i had heard; but i had no notion of its size or the extent of its boundaries. several european letters had also been found in fadl el maula's camp; but the khalifa did not show them to me. he preferred to remain in ignorance of their contents, rather than that i should gain some insight into affairs in those regions. the brilliance of this last success of his arms was, however, considerably dimmed by the news which came soon afterwards, that christian agents from the south and west were advancing towards the equatorial provinces. arabi had received information that a force was in uganda, and that christian troops were advancing from the western districts of central africa; and he appealed for instructions as to how to act. a reinforcement of four hundred men was at once despatched to reggaf; and orders were sent to him to withdraw all outlying posts, should he be threatened, but under no circumstances to abandon reggaf. when the expedition had been sent against emin pasha, it was the khalifa's intention not to acquire more territory in this direction, but to make a station from which raids could be made on the black countries, in order to procure ivory and slaves. after the steamer had left with reinforcements, the khalifa again turned his attention to affairs in the east. he ordered all the jaalin in omdurman to proceed to asubri, and nominated hamed wad ali, the brother of ahmed wad ali, to the command of this post. he subsequently despatched thither the danagla, as well as a number of arab horsemen to gedaref; and the camel-owning arabs were instructed to supply three thousand camels, of which a thousand were incorporated with the mounted corps at gedaref, whilst the remainder were used to transport grain from rufaa and abu haraz on the blue nile to asubri, which, having been abandoned by its former inhabitants, was now left entirely uncultivated; and in consequence the troops there were suffering great privations. by these measures, the khalifa imagined that he had turned the line of the atbara into a sort of wall, by which he hoped to block the enemy's advance; but it seemed as if he were likely to have no rest this year. mahmud ahmed now reported that christians had entered the bahr el ghazal districts, and were attempting to win over the native tribes, with whom they had already made treaties. they had arrived, he said, at hofret en nahas (the copper mines near kalaka on the southwestern darfur frontier). this news was of the greatest importance; and the khalifa had every reason to feel alarmed and uneasy. when egypt governed the sudan, it was from the bahr el ghazal provinces that they recruited the men for the sudanese battalions, who had come either of their own free-will or had been forcibly impressed. owing to the climate and plenteous rainfall, the country is more highly cultivated than any portion of the nile valley lying between kowa and reggaf. besides, the majority of the tribes who inhabit these districts are, owing to internal dissensions, incapable of uniting, and would thus rather facilitate than retard the advance of any foreign power wishing to make itself master of the province. for the khalifa, however, the possession of this country is of vital importance. its ruler, he knows, virtually holds the sudan in his hands. these various black tribes have no love for the arab slave-hunters, and would aid any power which would guarantee their protection. the recruitment of four or five thousand local levies, possessing fighting qualities of a high order, would, for such a power, be a matter of no difficulty; and in the space of four or five years an army of from fifteen to twenty thousand men might be raised, by which not only darfur and kordofan, but indeed the whole sudan, could be conquered. abdullahi, therefore, was not slow to realise the situation; and he at once gave orders to mahmud ahmed to despatch a force from southern darfur into these districts, and drive out the strangers who had dared to penetrate the bahr el ghazal province. in compliance with these instructions, the emir khatem musa, with a considerable force, was sent south from shakka into the northern bahr el ghazal districts, and the faroghé, kâra, bongo, and other frontier tribes with whom the europeans had made treaties, being left without support, at once submitted to the mahdists who occupied their countries. one day, i was summoned before the khalifa, who handed to me several documents written in french, which he ordered me to translate. they included two letters from lieutenant de la kéthulle to his assistants, containing various orders and instructions. they had been originally in the hands of the sheikh of faroghé, who had handed them over to khatem musa. in addition to these, the khalifa showed me a treaty which had been drawn up between sultan hamed wad musa of the faroghé and the representative of the congo free state, which was to the effect that,-- . sultan hamed wad musa, chief of the faroghé tribe, acknowledged the suzerainty of the congo free state, and placed himself under its protection. . sultan hamed wad musa bound himself to enter into commercial relations with the congo free state, and establish intercourse between it and the darfur frontier districts, and agreed to give protection to all officials of that state travelling in his country. . the congo free state bound itself to assist sultan hamed wad musa in all his undertakings, and uphold his authority in the country. this treaty was signed in august, , by hamed wad musa and the representative of the congo free state; and was witnessed by sultan zemio and the sultan of tiga, the names of the two latter being written in european characters. i hurriedly translated these papers verbally to the khalifa, and was much interested in seeing how, on this occasion, his curiosity got the better of his suspicions; though he did all he could to prevent me from noticing this. "i did not summon you," he said, "merely to translate these letters, which, after all, are of not the smallest importance to me, though i have instructed mahmud ahmed to drive out these christians, who are only travellers, and in small numbers, from the bahr el ghazal province; but i have also a proposal to make to you. i look upon you as one of us,--as my friend and faithful adherent,--and i have decided to publicly make known this fact by giving to you as a wife one of my cousins,--one of my next of kin. what have you to say to this?" this offer did not greatly surprise me; for he had several times hinted as much. i was perfectly well aware that his object was not to publicly show appreciation of me, but to have me carefully watched in my own house. he wished to place me under surveillance in order to discover if i had any secret relations with outside countries. through trusty friends, i had ascertained that he earnestly sought some plausible grounds for making me, as he called it, "harmless;" but in doing so he wished to justify his action before the public, by showing me more consideration as a foreigner than if i had been a native. i knew too well, however, that a man of his unscrupulous determination, who had not spared his best friends, such as ibrahim adlan and kadi ahmed, would not hesitate to take full advantage of the slightest proof of my disloyalty in order to rid himself of me. "sire," i replied, "may god bless you, and give you victory over all your enemies. i feel highly honoured by your magnanimous offer; but hear of me, i pray you, the truth. your relative is not merely descended from royalty, but from the prophet himself. she therefore deserves to be treated with every consideration. unfortunately, i have a very quick temper, and at times have great difficulty in controlling myself. domestic quarrels would undoubtedly arise, which might be the cause of estrangement between you, my master, and myself. my only desire is to remain in your greatest favour. i pray god this may ever be so; for i dread the occurrence of anything which might cause me to fall into disfavour." "i have known you now intimately for ten years," said the khalifa; "and i have never known you to be thoughtless or quick-tempered. i have often presented you with wives, and they have never complained to me of domestic quarrels. it is true, however, that i have heard you have either made presents of them to your servants, or have given them their liberty. it seems to me that although you pretend to be one of us, you really wish to adhere to the manners and customs of your tribe. [he did not refer to religion, as i suppose he thought that might hurt my feelings.] i mean that you wish to have only one wife." "sire," i replied, "you have often honoured me with presents of slaves; but you surely do not wish me to be their slave. if i have married them to my servants, or sent them away, it is because they have been disobedient, or have behaved badly. you have been misinformed, if you think that i wish to adhere to the custom of my country to have only one wife; for i have already three." "very well," he said, "i believe you; and so you refuse to marry my cousin?" "sire," i replied, "i do not refuse; but i merely inform you of my uncertain temper, so that i may prevent unpleasantness in the future. indeed, i am highly honoured by your kind offer; and i beg you to try and see if i am worthy of it." he understood perfectly well that what i had said was tantamount to a refusal; and he closed the conversation by making a sign to me to withdraw. this offer had placed me in a most difficult position. i thoroughly understood the khalifa. by not joyfully accepting his offer, i had hurt his pride; and now i longed more than ever for liberty. some months before, i had sent a sudanese merchant to cairo, and had begged the austrian consul-general to place, through him, the necessary means at my disposal to effect my escape. but how often had i attempted negotiations of this sort through merchants and others, and how often had i been doomed to disappointment and failure. chapter xvi. miscellaneous remarks. the person and characteristics of khalifa abdullahi--the fate of the mahdist chronicler--the princesses of darfur--the khalifa's family life--his harem--the organisation of his body-guard--enforced attendance at the mosque--the postal system--military parades--elevation of the western arabs and oppression of the river tribes--the military situation and strength--guns and ammunition--revenue and expenditure--courage. i will now say a few words regarding the khalifa's person and his characteristics. sayed abdullahi ibn sayed mohammed belongs to the taaisha section of the baggaras (as all cattle-owning nomad arabs are called). this section inhabits the country in the southwestern portion of darfur; and the khalifa himself is descended from the aulad om sura of the jubarat family. i have already referred to abdullahi's early life, and how he had established a connection with the slave-hunting arabs, when still quite a youth. he joined the mahdi at the age of thirty-five, and was then a slim and active, though powerfully built man; but latterly he has become very stout, and his lightness of gait has long since disappeared. he is now forty-nine years of age, but looks considerably older; and the hair of his beard is almost white. at times, the expression of his face is one of charming amiability, but more generally it is one of dark sternness, in which tyranny and unscrupulous resolution are unmistakably visible. he is rash and quick-tempered, acting often without a moment's consideration; and when in this mood, even his own brother dares not approach him. his nature is suspicious to a degree to every one, his nearest relatives and members of his household included. he admits that loyalty and fidelity are rare qualities, and that those who have to deal with him invariably conceal their real feelings in order to gain their own ends. he is most susceptible to flattery, and consequently receives an inordinate amount from every one. no one dares to speak to him without referring, in the most fulsome terms, to his wisdom, power, justice, courage, generosity, and truthfulness. he accepts this absurd adulation with the greatest pleasure and satisfaction; but woe to him who in the slightest degree offends his dignity. the following episode will give the reader a fair idea of his arbitrary nature:-- a certain kadi named ismail wad abdel kader, who had been well educated in cairo, had gained great favour with the mahdi by having written a laudatory account of his early victories. this had so fully gratified the great religious reformer that he instructed abdel kader to continue to chronicle the various important events as they happened, and further instructed his principal emirs to forward to him detailed histories of all that occurred within their respective commands. in time, these chronicles grew into an elaborate historical and inflated statement of mahdist rule in the sudan; and, after the mahdi's death, the khalifa, who had installed abdel kader as state chronicler, ordered the continuance of the work. one day, however, during a pleasure-party, the historian had been overheard to say that present affairs in the sudan, as compared with those in egypt, might be described by the following simile: the khalifa might be considered as the khedive ismail pasha, whilst, in the same proportion, he, abdel kader, might be likened to ismail pasha el mofettish, who had been the viceroy's principal adviser and friend. this thoughtless statement was immediately reported to abdullahi, who, furious at such a comparison, at once ordered the judges to assemble and make a full inquiry into the matter; and if abdel kader had actually made such a statement, he should be at once condemned. to the kadis, he argued thus: "the mahdi is the representative of the prophet mohammed, and i am his successor. who, therefore, in the whole world holds so high a position as i? who can be nobler than the direct descendant of the prophet?" the inquiry proved the guilt of abdel kader, who, at the khalifa's command, was thrown into chains and transported to reggaf. "what business has he to compare affairs here with those of egypt?" said the pompous khalifa. "if he wishes to compare himself to a pasha, then i, the descendant of the prophet, will never demean myself to be put on a par with the khedive,--a mere turk." i suppose by these assertions he thought to impress the populace. the stupid man too, in his offended dignity, did not stop here. he at once ordered all the chronicles (of which several copies had been made) to be instantly burnt; but i heard privately that his secretary, who was being frequently referred to by the khalifa on the subject of the early events of his reign, secreted one copy for private reference; and if these strange chronicles could only be procured and translated into european languages, they would expose to the civilised world the methods of mahdism in all its barefaced mendacity. abdullahi's pride and confidence in his own powers are indescribable. he firmly believes that he is capable of doing anything and everything; and as he pretends to act under divine inspiration, he never hesitates to appropriate the merits of others as his own. for example, he stated that the mahdi's tomb, which had been built with immense labour and trouble by the former government architect ismail, had been designed by himself entirely in accordance with divinely inspired plans. he ascribed osman wad adam's victory over abu gemmaiza, as well as zeki tummal's over king john of abyssinia, to the inspired orders which he pretended he had issued. his character is a strange mixture of malice and cruelty. he delights to annoy and cause disappointment; and he is never happier than when he has brought people to complete destitution by confiscating their property, throwing them into chains, robbing families wholesale, seizing and executing all persons of tribal influence and authority, and reducing entire races to a condition of powerless impotence. during the mahdi's lifetime, he was entirely responsible for the severity of the proceedings enacted in his name, and for the merciless manner in which he treated his defeated enemies. it was abdullahi who gave the order for no quarter at the storming of khartum; and it was he who subsequently authorised the wholesale massacre of the men, women, and children. after the fall of that city, it was he who, for the period of four days, declared the whole shaigia tribe to be outlaws. when distributing the captured women and children, he was utterly regardless of their feelings. to separate children from their mothers, and to make their re-union practically impossible by scattering them amongst different tribes, was his principal delight. when osman wad adam sent to omdurman the sisters of the late sultan of darfur, the princesses miriam isa basi and miriam bakhita, he gave them their liberty, but took most of their female relatives into his own harem, and distributed the remainder amongst his followers; and, hearing that some darfur people who were residing in omdurman had called on the princesses, and offered them presents, he had the latter arrested and made over as slaves to his two emirs, hassib and kanuna, who were on the point of starting for reggaf. in vain poor bakhita's blind mother implored to be allowed to accompany her daughter; but she was forcibly prevented by the khalifa's special orders, and died a few days later of a broken heart. her daughter threw herself into the river as the boat started. she was saved, but subsequently died on the journey from fatigue and misery. ahmed gurab, an egyptian born in khartum, who had quitted the city as a merchant before the destruction of hicks pasha's army, had left behind him his wife, who was a sudanese, and his daughter. he eventually returned to see them; and, on the day he arrived in omdurman, he was brought before the khalifa, to whom he explained the reasons of his return, and expressed a wish to enter his service. "i accept your offer," said the khalifa. "you will at once proceed to reggaf, and fight in the holy cause against the heathen." in vain the unfortunate man begged and implored to remain with his wife and daughter, or at least to be allowed to see them; but the khalifa ordered his mulazemin to take him at once on board the steamer, and guard him carefully, and on no account permit him to see his family. with a smile of fiendish delight, he said: "his fellow-passengers are isa basi and bakhita. he may enjoy their society as much as he likes, if their masters will allow him." without the smallest rhyme or reason, he has caused the death of thousands of innocent people. he had the right hand and left foot of a certain omar publicly cut off in the market-place, because he had failed to make lead, which he had said he could do, and for which purpose he had received a small sum of money in advance. during the horrible execution and mutilation of the batahin, he had been present, and had looked with pleasure on the slaughter of his victims. i have described how his best friends and most faithful servants were victimised through his caprice, and how he had ruthlessly seized for himself their wives and daughters. then what could be more cruel than his punishment of the ashraf? no doubt they were guilty of mutiny; but he might have exiled or imprisoned them, instead of killing them with clubs and axes as if they had been dogs; and yet these were the near relatives of his former lord and master, the mahdi. in all intercourse with him, he demands the most complete humility and submission. persons entering his presence stand in front of him with their hands crossed over their breasts and their eyes lowered to the ground, awaiting his permission to be seated. in his audience chamber, he is generally seated on an angareb, over which a palm-mat is spread, and his sheepskin stretched out on it, whilst he leans against a large roll of cotton cloth which forms a pillow. when those brought before him are allowed to be seated, they take up a position as in prayers, with their eyes fixed on the ground; and in this posture they answer the questions put to them, and dare not move until permission is given them to withdraw. even in the mosque, when prayers are over, and he converses on general subjects, those in close proximity to him invariably maintain this attitude. he is most particular that all persons brought before him should keep their eyes downcast, whilst he himself scrutinises them most carefully. some years ago a syrian named mohammed said, who had the misfortune to have only one eye, happened to be near him when he was delivering a religious lecture, and unintentionally cast his blind eye in the direction of the khalifa. the latter at once called me up, and told me to tell the syrian never to come near him again, and if he did never to dare to look at him. at the same time he told me that every one should be most careful to guard themselves against the evil eye. "for," said he, "nothing can resist the human eye. illness and misfortunes are generally caused by the evil eye." in spite of his tyrannical nature, the khalifa shows to greater advantage in his private life. he is devoted to his eldest son osman, who is now twenty-one years of age, and who has been instructed in all the commentaries of the kuran by able mohammedan teachers; but his father never hesitated to change the teachers as often as his son wished; and when osman affirmed to his father that he was sufficiently instructed, the latter at once withdrew his teachers. when he reached his seventeenth year, he was married to his cousin, the daughter of his uncle yakub; and on this occasion the khalifa departed from the strict observances as regards marriage enjoined by the mahdi, and arranged a series of banquets extending over a period of eight days, to which almost every inhabitant in omdurman was invited. he had a large red brick house built for his son in the space lying opposite to yakub's residence, and had it furnished with all the comfort available in the sudan. an attempt was even made to lay out a garden on the stony ground within the enclosure. shortly afterwards, he gave his son two more of his female relatives in marriage, and innumerable concubines, which he himself selected; but he declared, in the most emphatic manner, that he would never permit him to marry a woman from any of the nile valley tribes. he watches over his son's intercourse with strangers with the greatest jealousy, and considers it a most dangerous proceeding; and when he heard that, in the perversity of youth, his son entirely disregarded his injunctions, and held nightly orgies in his house, he had a new residence built for him within the omdurman wall close to his own, so as to exercise greater supervision, and handed over his old house to yakub. he married his own daughter to the mahdi's son mohammed, to whom he bore no good will; whilst the latter was anxious to marry one of his own relations, and had no love for the khalifa's daughter. abdullahi, however, as father-in-law, guardian, and master, absolutely forbade him to enter into any such alliance, and tried to insist on his affection for his daughter, with the result that a complete estrangement was brought about between man and wife, ending in a divorce; but the khalifa was so annoyed that, out of pure fear, mohammed had to take her back, and swear entire devotion to her for the rest of his life. the khalifa thought it incumbent on his position to maintain a large establishment; and as this was also entirely in conformity with his own inclinations, he gradually became possessor of a harem of over four hundred wives. in accordance with the mohammedan law, he has four legal wives, who belong to free tribes; but, being a lover of change, he never hesitates to divorce them at will, and take others in their places. the other women of the household consist for the most part of young girls, many of whom belong to tribes which have been forced to accept mahdism, and whose husbands and fathers fought against him. they are therefore regarded as booty, and have only the rights and claims of concubines, or, in some cases, of slaves. this large assortment of ladies varies in colour from light brown to the deepest black, and comprises almost every tribe in the sudan. they are divided into groups of from fifteen to twenty, presided over by a superior; and two or three of these groups are placed under the orders of a free woman, who is generally a concubine specially selected by the khalifa. a certain amount of grain and money is granted monthly to these superiors for the maintenance of their charges; and they also receive means to purchase the necessary cosmetics, consisting of various sorts of oils, grease, and scent. the value of their clothing is regulated entirely by the comparative beauty, position, and character of the wearers, and consists for the most part of native-woven cotton cloth with particoloured borders, or of bright silk or woollen shawls imported from egypt. these are always distributed by the khalifa himself or by his chief eunuch. as the wearing of silver jewellery was strictly prohibited by the mahdi, mother-of-pearl buttons and oblong strips of red coral and onyx, threaded together, are worn round the wrists, ankles, and head. the hair is usually worn in innumerable small plaits, which are arranged in all sorts of different ways, and bedaubed with a quantity of oily and greasy scents; and to european olfactory nerves the odour emanating from a sudanese lady "en grande toilette" is repulsive in the extreme. for the last few years the wives of the upper classes have again taken to wearing gold and silver jewellery; and the khalifa's principal women indulge in these luxuries to a greater extent than the rest. the latter live in a series of large detached houses, something like barracks, surrounded by courts encircled with high walls. special women are maintained to watch over their state of health; and they are obliged to report it to their master, the khalifa, from time to time. when he wishes to summon any lady in particular to share his affections, he communicates his desire by means of little boy eunuchs. occasionally, he holds an inspection of his entire household, and makes use of such opportunities to rid himself of those of whom he is weary, in order to make room for new attractions. those disposed of in this way he generally passes on to his near relatives, his special favourites, or his servants. the harem courts are carefully guarded by eunuchs and the black mulazemin. the women are almost entirely cut off from intercourse with the outer world; and perhaps once a year their female relations are allowed to converse with them for only a short time. the khalifa's principal wife is called sahra, and belongs to his own tribe. she has shared with him from earliest days all his joys and sorrows, and is the mother of his oldest children osman and kadija. during the early years of his reign, he would only eat the simplest food, cooked by her or under her superintendence. it consisted, as a rule, merely of asida, roast meat, and chickens; but as his household increased, he began to try the various sorts of cookery known to his new wives, many of whom were acquainted with the turkish and egyptian methods; and now, in place of the simple food, he indulges in far more luxurious fare, though to outward appearance he still pretends to lead a life of simplicity and abstinence. these innovations brought about a quarrel between him and his wife sahra, who pointed out that the new dishes might be bewitched or poisoned, and might end in his death, with the result that he twice sent her letters of separation; but, on the strong representations of his brother yakub and the other members of the family, he was induced to cancel them. he has in his service in all some twenty eunuchs, chief of whom is a certain abdel gayum, who is also charged with the superintendence of large quantities of land which are cultivated by slaves for the use of the household; and it is his duty to purchase the necessary supplies of grain, and have in readiness the sheep and cattle required for domestic purposes. he also draws from the beit el mal the necessary amounts required for the payment of the women and servants of the harem. he has also charge of considerable sums of private money with which the khalifa purchases the presents he secretly makes to his emirs and other influential persons. to assist him in carrying out his multifarious duties, he has a staff of clerks and servants, who are always eunuchs or slaves, as the khalifa will on no account allow any stranger to get an insight into his harem. abdullahi's dress consists of a jibba made of superfine white cotton cloth with a coloured border, loose cotton drawers, and on his head a beautifully made mecca silk skull-cap, around which a small white turban is wound. around his body a narrow strip of cotton, about five yards long, called wassan, is worn, and a light shawl of the same material is thrown across his shoulders. he formerly wore sandals; but latterly he has taken to wearing soft leather stockings of a light brown colour, and yellow shoes. when walking, he carries a sword in his left hand, and in his right a beautifully worked hadendoa spear, which he uses as a walking-stick. he is invariably accompanied by twelve or fifteen little boy-slaves as his personal attendants. many of these are children of abyssinian christians seized by abu anga and zeki tummal. their duty is to remain always near him, and act as his messengers to various parts of the town. they usher into his presence all visitors, and must be ready day and night to carry his orders. when they reach the age of seventeen or eighteen, they are drafted into the ranks of the mulazemin, and their places taken by others. the khalifa thinks that by employing young boys, his secrets are less likely to be betrayed; and in this he is not far wrong, when one considers the extraordinary amount of bribery and corruption which prevails amongst the older classes. within the house, into which these young boys are never admitted, he employs young eunuchs, who wait upon him, whilst the more advanced in age of this unfortunate class are relegated to the outer dependencies of the household. even these juvenile domestics suffer considerable brutality at his hands. the slightest mistakes are punished by flogging, or the offenders are thrown into chains and starved. upwards of three years ago, he conceived the idea of augmenting his mulazemin by a species of body-guard; and for this purpose he selected a number of jehadia from mahmud ahmed's and zeki tummal's armies. in addition to these, he called on the emirs of the western tribes to provide a number of recruits for his mulazemin; but his orders were only partially obeyed. he selected a few of the sons of the best jaalin families for incorporation in the body-guard; but he rigorously excluded all danaglas and egyptians, in whom he has no confidence. in this manner, he created a force of from eleven to twelve thousand men, who, with their wives and children, are all quartered close to his and his son's houses, and within the newly erected wall. this force is subdivided into three corps, under the respective commands of his son osman, the khalifa's young brother harun abu mohammed, who is barely eighteen years of age, and his cousin ibrahim khalil, who has been recently replaced by an abyssinian named rabeh, who has been brought up in the khalifa's household. osman, in all matters regarding the mulazemin, is looked upon as the khalifa's representative. the corps are subdivided again into sections of one hundred men, over each of which an officer called ras miya (head of the hundred), who has several assistants, has command. over every five or six ras miya an emir presides, who is also provided with an assistant. the black soldiers, or jehadia, are incorporated in the subdivisions, not with the free arabs, but under the special command of the emirs, who have therefore under their respective orders two or three hundred jehadia, and the remainder arabs. almost all these are armed with remington rifles, which, however, are kept in store, and are only issued on special feasts. the monthly pay of the mulazemin consists of half a dervish dollar, and, every fortnight, one-eighth of an ardeb of dhurra. the grain is received fairly regularly; but the cash payment is merely a nominal one, and is very seldom issued. the salaries of the ras miya and emirs are proportionately higher; and they receive frequent gifts of women and slaves from the khalifa. the duty of the mulazemin and body-guard is to protect the person of the khalifa; and all must accompany him when he rides out or holds reviews. even when making a comparatively small expedition into the town they must proceed with him. they have always to remain in readiness in the open square in front of his house. although the khalifa has forbidden all egyptian music, he has collected the former black buglers, two of whom invariably accompany him. the call for a ras miya is that of captain; for emir that of major; and for commander that of colonel. abdullahi frequently inspects the mulazemin at night, in order to see that they are in occupation of the posts allotted to them; and he pays special attention to the outposts. owing to this unusually hard service, the ras miya and emirs, under the pretext of illness, frequently go secretly to their houses, and great discontent prevails amongst them. the khalifa's public duties consist in saying the five prayers daily in the large mosque. at early dawn, he begins with the morning prayers, after which the rateb is read in various groups, as enjoined by the mahdi. this consists of a selection of verses and special prayers from the kuran, and occupies about an hour. the khalifa then returns, as a rule, to his private apartments, but sometimes walks about in the mosque in order to see for himself whether the inhabitants of omdurman comply with his orders to attend prayers regularly. he holds midday prayers at about two o'clock, and two hours later follows the asr, or evening prayer, after which the rateb is repeated. prayers are said again at sunset, and, three hours later, night prayers are held. on all these occasions, the khalifa attends in his mihrab (niche), which has been erected immediately in front of the lines of believers. it is a square-shaped structure, consisting of a series of columns connected by open iron-work, through which he can see all that is going on around him. immediately behind him are the seats of his son, the kadis, and a few persons specially selected by himself. the mulazemin take up a position to the right and left, whilst the black soldiers occupy large open enclosures which are separated from the mosque by a wall. on the right of the mulazemin are the places of yakub, the emirs, and most of the western tribes, whilst to the left are some of yakub's followers, a few of khalifa ali wad helu's arabs, and the jaalin and danagla. behind these, the people are seated in ten or twelve rows, and repeat the prayers in unison after the khalifa. on all occasions there are several thousand persons present; and the khalifa is most particular that all the principal emirs and influential people should assist him. if he bears any special dislike or ill-will to any persons, he invariably condemns them to regularly attend the five daily prayers in the mosque, under the supervision of people specially selected for this purpose. in making these strict regulations regarding prayers, the khalifa is by no means actuated by devotional ideas, but utilises these occasions to keep his followers together under his own personal control. as several of the people live a considerable distance away from the mosque, they are generally so tired and exhausted, after these frequent journeys to and fro, that they do not collect in the evening in each others' houses,--a practice which the khalifa specially abhors, for his object is to destroy, as far as possible, what he is pleased to call "social life;" that is to say, social gatherings, for he is perfectly well aware that his deeds and actions on such occasions are invariably discussed and criticised, and not generally very favourably. if, for any reason, such as illness, he is prevented from attending prayers, his place is taken by one of his kadis, or by a very pious mulazem of the takruri tribe; but on such occasions the substitute imam is never allowed to occupy the mihrab, but stands outside. khalifa ali wad helu, who, in accordance with the religious law, should, on such occasions, represent the khalifa, is scarcely ever permitted to do so. in the afternoon, or between afternoon and evening prayers, he receives reports, news, and letters, and interviews the kadis and emirs whose names have been previously submitted to him, as well as any other persons whom he specially wishes to see. his postal arrangements are very primitive. he keeps up from sixty to eighty riding camels, with a specially selected staff of postmen; and these he despatches to different parts of his empire with orders and instructions. ibrahim adlan had suggested to him that he should make special stations for the posts along the various main roads, and establish a more regular and less expensive system; but he utterly refused to entertain the idea, saying that he placed special value on the verbal accounts of the postmen who were despatched direct, and he frequently obtained from them important information concerning the attitude and behaviour of his governors. the emirs of the various districts also have a similar postal system of their own, and despatch camel-men with important information to omdurman. there is no system of postal communication for private persons, though sometimes the camel-postmen convey letters secretly. the khalifa being intensely suspicious of all intercourse with strangers, any communications between his subordinates and the outside must be carried out with the greatest circumspection and secrecy. utterly ignorant of reading and writing, the khalifa orders all letters that arrive to be handed over to his secretaries, abu el gasem and mudasser, who are obliged to explain the contents, and write replies in accordance with his orders. these two individuals lead a wretched life; for they know that he will not forgive the slightest mistake, and should he have the least suspicion of their having revealed any of his secrets, even through carelessness, he would not hesitate to treat them as he treated their comrades ahmedi and his four brothers, who, having been accused of communicating with the ashraf, were executed. he converses principally with his kadis, who are, for the most part, willing tools in his hands, and serve to give a veneer of justice to his despotic actions. these myrmidons, submissively seated in a semi-circle on the bare floor, their heads bowed down, listen to his orders, which are generally given in an undertone; and rarely any one of them dares to open his mouth or make a suggestion, no matter how necessary he may think it. in addition to the kadis, he occasionally interviews emirs and other influential persons, from whom he ascertains the condition of the country and tribes; but he invariably stirs up intrigue, and tries to pit one against the other. he generally consults, immediately after night prayers, with yakub and some of his near relatives; and these meetings often last till long past midnight. they are usually convened for discussing the ways and means of ridding themselves of persons who are objectionable, or who are in the smallest degree a menace to their authority. occasionally, he makes short riding excursions to various parts of the town, or visits his houses in the north or south of omdurman. the melancholy notes of the ombeija and the beating of war-drums announce to the inhabitants that their master is about to appear in public. horses are at once saddled in the large thatched enclosure immediately behind the mosque. the doors are thrown open, and the mulazemin stream out from all directions, and, last of all, follows the khalifa, mounted, as a rule, on horseback. a square is immediately formed around him; and the men advance in front of him in detachments, ten or twelve abreast. behind them follow the horse and foot men of the town population, while on the khalifa's left walks an immensely powerful and well-built arab named ahmed abu dukheka, who has the honour of lifting his master in and out of the saddle. on his right is a strongly-made young black, who is chief of the slaves in the royal stables. the khalifa is immediately preceded by six men, who alternately blow the ombeija by his orders. behind him follow the buglers, who sound the advance or halt, or summon, at his wish, the chiefs of the mulazemin. just behind these follow his small personal attendants, who carry the rekwa (a leather vessel used for religious ablutions), the sheepskin prayer-carpet, and several spears. sometimes, either in front or rear, as the case may be, follows the musical band, composed of about fifty black slaves, whose instruments comprise antelope-horns, and drums made of the hollow trunks of trees covered with skin. the strange african tunes they play are remarkable rather for the hideously discordant noise they make than for their melody. these rides are generally undertaken after midday prayer; and the khalifa returns at sunset. whilst he is advancing in this solemn state, the mulazemin generally indulge in displays of horsemanship. galloping four abreast, with their spears poised high in the air, they dash up towards him at full speed, drawing up their horses almost on to their haunches. they then slowly retire to repeat the operation. [illustration: the khalifa and cadis in council.] during the early years of his rule, the khalifa was present every friday on the large parade ground where the ceremony of trooping the colours is performed; but now he attends only four times a year, viz., on the birthday of the prophet, on the feast of miraj, the feast of bairam, and the feast of kurbam bairam; on this last date all the troops in the neighbourhood, as well as the darfur and gedaref armies, are assembled during peaceful times. on the first day of the feast of bairam, the khalifa holds prayers on the parade ground, and retires himself within a zariba in which a small mud-brick house has been built. a few special favourites, and a number of mulazemin, remain with him; but the rest of the troops and populace range themselves in long lines; and when the prayer is over he mounts a wooden pulpit, and delivers a sermon, which is generally specially prepared for him by his secretaries. this over, a salute of seven guns is fired, and all those who can afford it kill the sacrificial lambs prescribed by the religion; but, owing to the prevailing distress and poverty of the inhabitants, very few of them are in a position to bear this expense, and are obliged to content themselves with a sort of porridge which takes the place of a sacrificial dish. during the three following days, a review is held. long before sunrise, the emirs, with their flags and followers, collect and march to their allotted positions on the parade ground, which is an almost perfectly flat sandy plain, with a few stones here and there. the troops are marshalled in long lines in rear of each other, facing east. yakub has the principal flag,--an immense piece of black cloth, which is hoisted exactly opposite the khalifa's zariba, and about four hundred yards from it. to the right and left are ranged those of the different emirs, while on the north side flies the green flag of the khalifa ali wad helu, on either side of which are the flags of his emirs. on the left flank, the horse and camel-men are drawn up, while on the right flank are ranged the riflemen, consisting partly of jehadia, and partly of men belonging to the various emirs, who are only specially provided with arms for the time being. immediately after sunrise, the khalifa comes out of the zariba, and, mounted on his horse, stands surrounded by his mulazemin and body-guard, whilst the entire army passes in review before him, the troops being generally provided with new jibbas and turbans in honour of the feast. sometimes the khalifa mounts on a camel; and, on one occasion, he drove in the carriage of one of the former governors-general which had been captured in khartum, and which was kept stored away in the beit el mal. two horses were specially trained to draw this vehicle, which the khalifa ordered to be driven at a foot pace, as he feared being upset; but, latterly, he has given up this plan, and generally rides on horseback direct from the mosque along the road leading due west towards the black flag, and, on reaching it, he solemnly contemplates it for a few moments, and then rides to the zariba, at the south front of which a small shelter, consisting of trunks of trees lashed together and covered with palm-mats, has been erected. here he dismounts and reclines on an angareb, surrounded by his kadis, whilst the troops file past. occasionally, he starts from his own house, and, taking a southern road, marches out of the town, then turns west and rides along the front alignment of his troops, after which the usual march past takes place. at these reviews the horsemen are generally clad in coats of mail, of european or asiatic origin, whilst on their heads they wear heavy iron helmets and curious cotton caps of various colours and the most grotesque shapes, round which a small turban is wound. the horses are clothed in large padded patchwork quilts, somewhat resembling those worn by the knights of old at tournaments; and one might almost imagine one was gazing at one of those old mediæval displays. these reviews terminate at the end of the third day; and the troops brought from beyond omdurman are permitted to return to their respective garrisons. i propose now to briefly consider the khalifa's political intentions and ideas. as i have already stated, when the mahdi first declared himself, he nominated three khalifas, viz., abdullahi, ali wad helu, and mohammed sherif, who were to succeed him in this order, if they survived. on his death, abdullahi succeeded as arranged; but, from the moment he took over the reins of government, he did everything in his power to increase his personal ascendancy, and make it hereditary in the family. the mutinous ashraf, who prided themselves on their relationship to the mahdi, afforded him a welcome pretext for compassing their downfall; and he did not hesitate to possess himself of the black troops belonging to both his rival khalifas. an obscure member of a western tribe, he was a complete stranger in the country; and he knew that he could not reckon on the jaalin, danagla, inhabitants of the gezira, and other nile valley tribes to support his authority. he therefore sent secret emissaries to the western arabs to induce them to make a pilgrimage to the mahdi's tomb, and emigrate to the nile valley. his agents drew a tempting picture of the magnificent country to which they had been invited, telling them that they were the lord's chosen people, and that they should go out to possess the land, the inhabitants of which were rich in cattle and slaves, which should be theirs. tempted by these glowing accounts, many of these tribes emigrated of their own free-will to omdurman; but as this contingent was not sufficient, the khalifa instructed his emirs in darfur and kordofan to enforce his orders; and, in consequence of this, an immense emigration took place, and continues, on a reduced scale, down to the present day. by this means the khalifa has surrounded himself with hordes of strangers who have ousted the rightful owners of the soil, and have made themselves absolute masters of the situation. all offices and important situations are filled by them, and by his own relatives, the majority belonging to the taaisha section. almost the only one of the old emirs left is osman digna; and the reason for this is that the eastern arab tribes he governs speak a language which is unknown to the western arabs. besides many of these tribes are gradually coming under egyptian and italian influence, and the few that are left are merely attached to osman digna because he is one of them. thus the taaisha tribe has acquired all the power and authority in the land; and they fill their pockets with the waning revenues of the impoverished sudan. years ago, the emirs of dongola and berber had been instructed by the khalifa to weaken the local population as much as possible; and, in consequence, fire-arms and weapons of all descriptions were taken from them, and they were reduced to a condition of complete harmlessness. moreover, in the actions of toski and tokar numbers of jaalin and danagla were killed, whilst large contingents of them had been sent to darfur and gallabat in the hope that they may be eventually exterminated. in this manner the khalifa has secured their countries, and rendered any attempt to oppose his authority almost impossible. the same may be said of the inhabitants of the gezira, who have also been drafted off into various remote parts of the country, or have been forced to come to omdurman with their families, where they have endured the greatest hardships and privations. moreover, they were called upon to give up more than half their cultivated lands, which were distributed amongst the western arabs; and all their best fields are now possessed by the khalifa's own relatives and favourites. the former owners are often obliged to till the soil for their new masters, who have annexed their servants, slaves, and cattle. thus the cultivable area of the gezira, which, in former times, was the most populous and prosperous part of the sudan, has been reduced by at least a half; and such commotion prevailed in the districts that the khalifa was himself obliged to intervene on behalf of the inhabitants, who were ill-treated, tyrannised over, and oppressed to an incredible extent. as i have before stated, his own tribes are preferred on all occasions. not only do they hold all the best positions and posts, but the greater part of the money and spoil which passes into the beit el mal from the provincial treasuries at darfur, gallabat, and reggaf finds its way into their hands. for their special benefit he has imposed a horse tax, which must be paid in kind; and in this manner he has provided the majority of the taaisha with chargers. his own section, the jubarat, of course gets the lion's share of everything. he never hesitates to make use of every description of intrigue in order to strengthen his own side and weaken the other. for example, on the defeat and death of nejumi, whose flags belonged to those of khalifa sherif, and from whom abdullahi had withdrawn all power of command over other emirs, the remnant of the defeated force was placed under the direction of the emir yunes, and, in order to replace those who had been killed, he appointed fresh jaalin and emirs as well as men from omdurman. these he first placed under the command of their compatriot bedawi wad el ereik; but, instead of sending them to dongola, they were despatched to gedaref, and as an unavoidable delay occurred in their departure, he made out that this was a proof of disobedience, and condemned bedawi, with six of his emirs, to be banished to reggaf; and in their place he nominated other emirs, whom he placed under the direct command of his cousin hamed wad ali. it is human nature to seek the protection of the most powerful; and now, instead of being desirous to serve under their own emirs, the greater number of the so-called opposition party vie with one another in their efforts to be placed under the direct command of the khalifa or of yakub; even the adherents of ali wad helu come under this category. as an instance of this, i will quote the case of hamed wad gar en nebbi, who was the principal cause of the destruction of the batahin. he belonged to the hassanab tribe, which was commanded by ali wad helu. recognising how matters stood, he wished to place himself and his tribe under yakub's command; but he was short-sighted enough to tell khalifa ali's relatives of his plans. he even went so far as to state in public that on the death of abdullahi he would be succeeded by his brother yakub or his son osman, and that, as they had all the power in their hands, khalifa ali could expect nothing, and was, moreover, a weak man without energy. several of the bystanders retorted that the mahdi had nominated khalifa ali to be abdullahi's successor, to which he replied that times had changed, that abdullahi was all-powerful, and that the mahdi's commands were never attended to or taken into consideration. when this interview came to the ears of khalifa ali, he charged gar en nebbi before the kadi; and it was proved beyond a doubt that the latter had actually made these statements. he was consequently convicted of being "irreligious," having doubted the maintenance of the mahdi's doctrines and instructions. abdullahi could not therefore publicly interfere. had he done so, he would have revealed his own intentions, which were in reality well known, and would have corroborated gar en nebbi's assertions. the judges sentenced him to death; and although abdullahi did all in his power to induce ali wad helu to grant a reprieve, the latter insisted that the sentence should be carried out; and gar en nebbi was publicly executed in the market-place as an unbeliever and a disturber of public tranquillity. all the tribes under the command of yakub, as well as the khalifa's immediate followers, received instructions to show general dissatisfaction with the execution by openly absenting themselves from it. whenever it is a question between himself and his opponents, the khalifa invariably relies upon his arms, which are far more than sufficient to overcome with ease any attempt to dispute his authority, whether it be in omdurman itself or in any other part of the country. within the sudan, therefore, he is all-powerful; but he is not in a position to offer determined resistance to outside enemies. his leaders are neither capable nor sufficiently instructed to ensure victory. his men are not now loyal enough to fight with that determination which early fanaticism had inspired. they have little or no faith in the cause for which they are supposed to be fighting; and there is little doubt that the khalifa's forces could not resist the advance of a foreign power bent on re-occupying the sudan. the table on the next page shows approximately the forces at present at the khalifa's disposal. of the forty thousand rifles shown in the table, there are not more than twenty-two thousand remingtons in good condition. the remainder consist of single and double barrel smoothbores, and other guns of a variety of pattern. several of the remington barrels, however, have been cut short with the object of lessening the weight, and with entire disregard to the altered trajectory thus occasioned. of the sixty-four thousand swords and spear men, at least twenty-five per cent are either too old or too young to be considered effective for a campaign. the seventy-five guns comprise six krupps of large calibre, and for which there is only a very small amount of ammunition, eight machine guns of various patterns, and sixty-one brass muzzle-loading guns of various shapes and sizes, the ammunition for which is manufactured principally in omdurman, and is of a very inferior quality, the range being little over six or seven hundred yards. -----------------+-------------+---------------------------+----+-------- | | armed strength. | |rifles position and | emirs. +--------+--------+---------+guns| and garrisons. | | | | swords. | | smooth | |jehadia.|cavalry.|spearmen.| | bores. -----------------+-------------+--------+--------+---------+----+-------- omdurman |osman sheikh | | | | | (mulazemin) | ed din | , | | | | , " |yakub | , | , | , | | , " (in store) | | | | | | , | | | | | | reggaf |arabi wad | , | | , | | , | dafalla | | | | | western sudan: | | | | | | el fasher } | | | | | | el obeid } |mahmud, etc. | , | | , | | , shakka, etc. } | | | | | | berber |zeki osman | , | | , | | , abu hamed |nur en nau | | | | | | | | | | | eastern sudan: | | | | | | adarama |osman digna | | | , | | gedaref |ahmed fedil | , | | , | | , el fasher | | , | | | | , asubri |hamed wad ali| | | , | | gallabat |en nur | | | | | dongola |yunes ed | | | | | | degheim | . | | . | | , suarda |hammuda | | | , | | -----------------+-------------+--------+--------+---------+----+-------- total | | , | , | , | | , -----------------+-------------+--------+--------+---------+----+-------- let us now consider for a few moments the present limits of the khalifa's influence. until a few years ago, dervish authority extended from near wadi halfa in a southeasterly direction towards abu hamed, thence eastwards to the suakin neighbourhood, including tokar and the khor baraka, thence in a southerly direction, including kassala, gallabat, and the southeastern slopes of the beni shangul and gulli mountains, and from here it trended in a southwesterly direction towards the white nile, and included fashoda, bohr, and reggaf. on the west, it extended in a southwesterly direction through the southern libyan desert, including selima, the dongola, kordofan, and darfur provinces, up to the wadai frontier, and thence southward across the bahr el arab through dar runga, and included dar fertit, the bahr el ghazal, and a portion of equatoria. the defeat of nejumi obliged the mahdists to evacuate the northern portion of the dongola province; and their most northerly outpost is now suarda, some three days' march from dongola. the egyptian victories at tokar and handub gave back to the local tribes the districts in the immediate neighbourhood of suakin and tokar, whilst the capture of kassala threw into the hands of the italians all districts lying east of that town, in consequence of which the river atbara may now be considered the khalifa's eastern frontier. the main force originally stationed at gallabat under ahmed fedil has been moved to gedaref, and only an insignificant force is maintained at the former station. the chief of the beni shangul districts--tur el guri--and many of the neighbouring sheikhs have declared themselves independent. in the extreme west, the massalit, tama, beni hussein, and gimr tribes, who formerly paid tribute, have now revolted against the mahdi's government, and until lately were independent. they entered into an offensive and defensive alliance with sultan yusef of wadai; and the khalifa was about to despatch an expedition with the object of bringing them into subjection, when the alarming news, to which i have already referred, regarding the appearance of europeans in the bahr el ghazal induced him to alter the destination of khatem musa's force to that neighbourhood. after the retirement of the dervishes, orders were sent to khatem musa not to proceed further south until he had received reinforcements from omdurman. the shilluks and dinkas were, as i have already stated, reduced to subjection by zeki tummal, and the route opened to reggaf, which continues to be the most southerly of the dervish garrisons; in consequence of the disquieting news of european movements in these districts, the strength of the force there is by no means inconsiderable. the khalifa's object in retaining these districts is to replenish his supplies of slaves and ivory; and, under the energetic command of arabi wad dafalla, frequent expeditions are despatched south and west, some of which have collided with the forces of the congo free state; but, as i quitted the sudan before the result of these expeditions was known, i am not in a position to state which side was victorious. the khalifa's revenue and expenditure is worked entirely on the beit el mal system. the following are the principal:-- beit el mal el umumi (general treasury). beit el mal el mulazemin (the mulazemin treasury). beit el mal khums el khalifa (or the treasury of the khalifa's fifth tithes). beit el mal warshat el harbia (treasury of the war department). beit el mal zabtia es suk (treasury of the bazaar police). the following are the sources of revenue of the general treasury, viz.:-- . the "zeka" and "fitra" as laid down in the moslem law. . confiscated property. . the ushr (or tenth) tax paid by merchants and traders on goods. . the gum-tax. . the boat-tax. . loans from merchants (which are never repaid). . the ferry or "meshra" tax (_i. e._ the farming out of ferries). . the produce of all lands on the east of the blue nile and the west of the white nile, as far south as karkoj and fashoda, and as far north as haggar el asal. . a percentage of the revenues of the principal beit el mals. the following are the main expenses borne by the treasury:-- . transport of troops and supplies to the different provinces. . pay of the troops (jehadia). . pay of the various officials. . alms. the revenues of the mulazemin treasury come from the gezira lands; and the main item of expenditure is the pay of the mulazemin. the revenues of the treasury of the khalifa's fifth tithes are:-- . the greater part of the balance revenues of the provincial treasuries. . the revenues of all islands, including tuti island, and all "ghenima" lands, including the halfaya and kemlin districts, which formerly belonged to his highness, the khedive. . the ushr on all goods coming from berber to omdurman. . all slaves sent from the provinces. . revenues of the majority of steamers and boats. the expenditure of this treasury is devoted to the khalifa's household. the war department revenues are:-- . the produce of the khartum gardens. . the revenue of some "sakias" (water-wheels) in the vicinity of khartum. . ivory from equatoria. expenditure:-- . dockyard expenses. . beit el amana (arsenal) expenses. . saltpetre refining. . expenses in connection with the manufacture of arms and ammunition. revenue of the police treasury:-- . confiscated property of drunkards and gamblers. . shop-tax. expenditure:-- . pay of police officers and men. . expenses connected with yakub's guest-house. . expenses in connection with the building of the great wall. it will be readily understood, that the above system produces a considerable revenue for the khalifa's private treasury; and i know that a very large sum of money has been hoarded by him, and is stored in ammunition boxes, kept in his house; but i am unable to state, even approximately, what the amount may be. he has also several boxes, made of skins in which are quantities of gold and silver ornaments, collected from all parts. as i have stated, a show is made of keeping correct accounts; but the system in vogue admits of endless peculation, and any persons having business in the beit el mal invariably acquire considerable fortunes. the khalifa, however, is aware of this, and makes up for it by wholesale confiscations of property. when the mahdi first acquired possession of the sudan, he naturally obtained considerable quantities of gold and silver money; and, with the assistance of ahmed wad suleiman, he began to make his own coinage: he struck gold sovereigns which resembled the egyptian sovereign; but, as he did not understand the exact amount of alloy which should be mixed with the gold, the weights and values varied considerably, and, as the amount of gold in the sudan was small, the coining of sovereigns had soon to be suspended. silver coining was then carried on with some vigour; and the following table, showing the various descriptions of dollars coined during the last ten years, is an interesting indication of the decline of dervish power and government; for instance, the first dollar coined by the mahdi was made up of seven parts silver and one part copper, whereas, the last dollar, coined by the khalifa about a year ago, is composed of two parts silver and five parts copper,--indeed, the present dollar is merely a heavy copper coin covered over with a thin layer of silver. +-----------------------------------------------------+---------------+ | | weight in | | | dirhems. | | +-------+-------+ | |silver.|copper.| +-----------------------------------------------------+-------+-------+ | . the mahdi dollar | | | | . the first dollar made by ibrahim adlan | | | | . the second dollar made by ibrahim adlan | | | | . the first dollar of nur el gereifawi (this is | | | | known as the makbul dollar) | | | | . the second dollar of nur el gereifawi (this is | | | | known as the abu sidr or makbul) | | | | . the dollar of suleiman abdulla (this is known | ½ | ½ | | as the abu kibs or "crossed-spear" dollar) | | | | . the first dollar of abdel mejid (also called the | ½ | ½ | | makbul) | | | | . the dollar of weki alla | ½ | ½ | | . the dollar of omla gedida (new money) | | | +-----------------------------------------------------+-------+-------+ coining money is a lucrative trade; and, at present, the mint is presided over by two individuals, who pay six thousand dollars a month each, for the privilege. all money issued by them must be accepted as good money. the merchants, of course, object most strongly to these arbitrary measures; but wholesale confiscation of their property, accompanied by flogging and imprisonment, has forced them to realise the futility of attempting to go contrary to the khalifa's will. maria theresa dollars and medjidi dollars were the principal currency when the egyptian government occupied the sudan; and the present rate of exchange is:-- one maria theresa dollar = five omla gedida dollars. one medjidi dollar = eight omla gedida dollars. in consequence of this introduction of base coinage, the prices of certain articles have risen enormously: for instance, blue cotton stuff, which is principally used for women's dresses, and which cost formerly three-quarters of a dollar the piece, has now risen to six dollars, whilst ordinary linen, which was sold at a dollar for twelve yards, has risen to eight dollars for the same amount. half a pound of sugar costs a dollar, and so on. in fact, all goods which come from egypt have risen in price, whilst local produce, such as grain and cattle, has proportionately diminished in value: for instance,-- dervish dollars. a baggage camel costs from to riding camel " " " abyssinian horse " " " country bred horse " " " ordinary cow " " " a calf " " " milch cow " " " a sheep " " " an ardeb of dhurra " " " an ardeb of wheat " " " if the above rates were calculated in the former currency, it will be seen that the price of these articles is less now than it was in the days of the egyptian government; and it is evident that this state of things is brought about by bad sales, depression of trade, and general poverty. the unfortunate natives, who, at most, own only a few acres of ground, and a small stock of domestic animals, are obliged to sell them in order to obtain the bare necessaries of life, and pay the oppressive taxes. chapter xvii. miscellaneous remarks (_continued_). administration of justice--the kadi el islam--religion in the sudan--the khalifa's sermons--enforced pilgrimage to the mahdi's tomb--limits of the mahdist empire--natural produce--caravan roads--ostrich hunting--trade and commerce--the slave-trade--the slave market--industries--immorality--unpopularity of the khalifa--his ignorance and cruelty--his private apartments--principal buildings in omdurman--description of the city--the prison and its horrors--death of zeki tummal and kadi ahmed. throughout the preceding pages, i have frequently referred in general terms to the khalifa's system of administering justice. the kadis, or judges, are ready tools in the hands of their astute master. they are only permitted to act independently in trivial cases, such as family disputes, questions of property, and the like; but in all matters of importance, they must invariably refer to the khalifa for final decision, in giving which the latter invariably consults his own immediate interests; but at the same time his earnest endeavour is to appear before the public to be within the bounds of justice. the judges therefore, have a somewhat difficult task to perform: that is to say, they must invariably carry out the khalifa's wishes, and give them the appearance of being legally correct; whereas, in nine cases out of ten, they are entirely contrary to the first elements of justice and right. the nominal codes of justice are the moslem religious law and the "instructions" of the mahdi,--the latter being supposed to regenerate the former, which, through abuse and corruption, had been misapplied and, metaphorically speaking, trodden under foot. the main principle governing the "instructions" is the necessity for absolute belief in the mahdi's divine mission,--to doubt this is considered an act of apostasy punishable by death, confiscation of property, or imprisonment for life. the khalifa's object being to seize all power, the "instructions" are applied on every possible occasion; and he generally takes council with yakub as to the means to be employed to secure his end; and as yakub is the embodiment of every description of base intrigue and violence, the application of these laws results in the grossest injustice, oppression, and brutality. the following comprise the court of justice of the two principal kadis: hussein wad sahra, jaali; suleiman wad el hejaz, gehemabi; hussein wad gisu, homri; ahmed wad hamdan, arakini; osman wad ahmed, batahini; and abdel kader wad om mariam, who was formerly kadi of kalakla and prefect of khartum; also mohammed wad el mufti, who is the judge of petty disputes amongst the mulazemin. in addition to these, there are several kadis of the western tribes; but they are not permitted to give judgment, and merely give their votes to their higher colleagues. hussein wad sahra, whom the khalifa recently appointed to succeed the kadi el islam, ahmed wad ali, completed his studies at the azhar mosque in cairo, and is known as the most learned man in the sudan. in spite, however, of his erudition, he made the fatal mistake of writing a small pamphlet in favour of the claims of mohammed ahmed to be the true mahdi; and, having realised his error, he inwardly became his most bitter antagonist. having now been summoned by the khalifa to fill this important position, he was unwillingly obliged to accept it; his sense of justice has occasionally got the better of his fear, and, in several instances, he has given just judgments contrary to the khalifa's wishes; consequently, he is not at present in favour with his master. he still nominally holds the post, but is seldom called to the councils. if fear of his life does not eventually get the upper hand, he will undoubtedly be shortly numbered amongst those who are to be got rid of. whenever the grand council of kadis assembles, it is always understood that they are about to pronounce some special judgment in accordance with the khalifa's wishes, which have been previously communicated to them. as a kadi's salary is not large,--from twenty to forty dervish dollars a month,--it may be readily understood that venality enters largely into the minor judgments with which the khalifa does not interfere. in accordance with the "instructions," the evidence of witnesses is inviolable: it is not permitted to the accused to protest; and, consequently, it is the judges' prerogative to accept or refuse witnesses at will, and such a system naturally gives them ample opportunities of increasing their incomes. the kadi of the mulazemin has special instructions that any case between one of the body-guard and natives of the country--even if they be the highest in the land--shall invariably be given in favour of the former; and so rigorously is this rule enforced, that it is now never thought worth while to enter into a lawsuit with one of the body-guard. attached to the beit el mal are two kadis whose special duty is to keep up connection with the mehekema (law courts); they also issue the papers which must be signed when slaves are bought and sold, and on which they collect a small tax. there are also kadis in the market, police stations, and at the ferries who are charged with settling disputes and carrying out the duties of the court of small causes. the following brief notes on the state of religion, education, agriculture, commerce, and slave-trade may be of some interest. religion in the sudan, as far as my experience goes, is governed by the principle that the end justifies the means. proclamations and pamphlets enjoining strict attention to the performance of religious duties, and urging the abandonment of all earthly pleasures, are despatched to the remotest parts of africa and arabia, to bornu, dar fellata, mecca, and medina. the khalifa, if his health permits it, attends the five daily prayers most regularly; and yet, at heart, no man could be more irreligious. during all the years in which i have been in the closest communication with him, i have never once seen or heard him say a prayer in his own house. should any religious rite or ceremony interfere in the smallest degree with his wishes or ambitions, it is instantly abolished; but in doing so he is careful that the proposition for its abolition should emanate in the first instance from his kadis, who declare it necessary for the "maintenance of the faith;" and the astuteness with which these obsequious myrmidons twist and turn matters in order to suit the khalifa's will is deserving of a better cause. whenever it is quite impossible to create some pretext for the execution of an unusually gross piece of injustice, divine interposition and inspiration is invariably called to the rescue. abdullahi often addresses his followers from the pulpit in the mosque; but as he is entirely ignorant of theology, and knows little or nothing about the rudiments of religion, the scope of his sermons is excessively limited, and consists of a repetition of stereotyped phrases. on first mounting the pulpit, he greets the multitude with the words, "salam aleikum ya ashab el mahdi!" (peace be upon you, o friends of the mahdi!). to this the congregation shout in one voice, "aleik es salam ya khalifat el mahdi!" (peace be with thee, o khalifa of the mahdi!). the khalifa then adds, "god bless you! god preserve you! may god lead the mahdi's followers to victory!" and between each sentence the congregation shout, "amin" (amen). he then goes on to say, "see, o friends of the mahdi, how evil is the world! think for how short a time we live in it! were it not so the prophet and his follower, the mahdi, would still be with us. we shall surely follow them. prepare, therefore, for your journey to the next world. do not seek earthly joys; say the five prayers daily. read the mahdi's rateb; and be ever ready to fight against the unbelievers. obey my orders [this sentence he frequently repeats], and the joys of paradise will be yours. those who are disobedient, and do not take heed of my words, are lost; for them, as for the unbeliever, eternal damnation and hell fire is prepared. i am the shepherd, and you are the sheep. as you tend your cattle and see that they do not eat what will harm them, so i watch over you and see that you do not get into evil ways. think always of the almightiness of god. think of the cow, which is made of flesh and blood and skin and bones; and yet you can obtain sweet white milk from her. do you not recognise god's power in this?[ ] remain faithful to your vows to the mahdi and to myself. obey my commands, which will give you peace on earth and joy in the world to come. as the stones of a building go to make the structure complete, so should you support one another. forgive one another. love each other as the sons of one mother [and the crowd shouts, "we forgive each other!"]. may god bless you! may he lead you to victory! may he ever preserve and keep you! depart now in peace; but, before we separate, shout in one voice, 'la illaha ilalaha mohammed rasul allah.' this will enlighten your hearts and strengthen your faith." the congregation then disperses with loud shouts of "amin, la illaha, etc." all his sermons vary very little from the above. the repetition of the five prayers, and the reading of the kuran, on which no commentaries are permitted to be made, make up the sum total of religion, interspersed now and then with the reading of the mahdi's instructions and the repetition, twice a day, of the rateb. if any person says prayers at home, instead of at the mosque, without just cause or reason, he is adjudged by the khalifa as "disobedient;" and such prayers are, he says, not acceptable to god. from his point of view, true religion consists of servile obedience to his commands; and by this means alone can the soul enter into everlasting joys. he has forbidden pilgrimage to mecca, having substituted for it pilgrimage to the tomb of the mahdi, who is the prophet's representative. although the sudanese intensely dislike this innovation, they are perforce obliged to accept it; and as it is now impossible for them to return to the orthodox faith, which they so unwittingly cast aside, they now accept the situation, and carry out their mock religious duties in the most businesslike manner, but without the smallest belief in their efficacy. education and religious instruction are practically non-existent. some boys, and occasionally a few girls, are taught to recite the kuran and the rateb in the mesjids (religious schools attached to the mosques), of which a few are allowed to be privately kept up. a small percentage of these children, when they have completed their course in the mesjids, are sent to the beit el mal, where they become apprentices to the old government clerks, and learn a certain amount of business correspondence. the system of theological instruction which obtains in most moslem countries, but which was never much in vogue in the sudan, has now ceased to exist altogether. cultivation of the land south of berber is carried on during the rainy season, which in the northern districts begins in july, and in the southern at the end of may, or early in june, and lasts till the end of october; but there are now immense tracts of once fertile soil which, through want of cultivation and depopulation, have become tracts of desert or a tangled wilderness. the staple grain of the sudan is dhurra, and if there is a plentiful rainfall, the supply is generally good; but if there is a scarcity of rain, a famine almost invariably ensues, and the poorer classes of the population undergo terrible privations. on these occasions, they generally have to proceed to karkoj on the blue nile, or some distance up the white nile, and bring dhurra to omdurman in boats. from wadi haifa to fashoda on the white nile, or to famaka on the blue nile, narrow strips of river bank are cultivated by sakias (water-wheels) or shadufs (hand-buckets); and, in addition to dhurra, turkish maize, beans, lentils, peas, and pumpkins are cultivated. owners of water-wheels in the vicinity of the larger towns cultivate small quantities of sugar-cane, water-melons, radishes, sweet cucumbers, and various kinds of vegetables, which find a ready market; and when the rainy season is over cotton is planted. the most productive land is, of course, on the islands, which, during high nile, are often completely submerged; and as the river sinks they are sown almost without labour, and produce excellent crops. oranges and lemons are grown in the neighbourhood of khartum; but they are very small, and contain little juice. a few pomegranates, grapes, and figs are also to be had; but they are all of a very inferior quality. there are, of course, quantities of date-palms, of which the fruit forms one of the principal items of food; but the supply is barely sufficient for the consumption. in the dar mahass and sukkot districts of the dongola province the supply of dates is very considerable; and they are brought from thence to various parts of the sudan, the drying process being carried on principally in the berber and robatab districts. gum-arabic is collected in the forests of southern kordofan, and at one time constituted the principal wealth of this province. it was gathered principally by the gimeh and gowama arabs; but the former have been forced to emigrate, and the latter, through constant tyranny and oppression, have been so reduced that scarcely a sixth remains of their original numbers. in the days of the egyptian government, from eight hundred thousand to one million kantars of gum-arabic were gathered annually; but at present at most thirty thousand kantars are produced, and were it not that one of the former chiefs of the beit el mal had represented to the khalifa the increase which would accrue to his private treasury by allowing the collection of gum, it is probable the custom of gum picking would have fallen into entire disuse. the cultivation of tobacco was formerly one of the principal pursuits of the native population; but as smoking is strictly prohibited by the mahdist code, this product has entirely died out, though occasionally small quantities are smuggled in from the tagalla and nuba mountains, and fetch large prices; but any persons guilty of infringing the regulations in this respect suffer very heavy penalties. the once extensive commerce of the sudan has now sunk down to comparatively nothing; and the roads which were formerly traversed by numberless caravans are now deserted, obliterated by sand, or overgrown with rank vegetation. the principal routes were,-- . the arbaïn or forty days' road, from darfur to assiut, or from kordofan through the bayuda desert to dongola and wadi halfa. . from khartum, _via_ berber, to assuan, or _via_ abu hamed, to korosko. . from khartum, _via_ berber or kassala, to suakin. . from gallabat, gedaref, and kassala to massawa. at present the only roads used by occasional caravans are from berber to assuan and suakin. shortly after the capture of khartum, the sudan merchants imported to assuan considerable quantities of the captured gold and silver ornaments; and, partly owing to this fact, and partly to the amount of spoil accumulated in the khalifa's private treasury, the supply of these metals has become so reduced that abdullahi has given strict orders to the merchants that they should on no account take with them to egypt any gold or silver except what was absolutely necessary for the expenses of the journey. this amount was fixed by the beit el mal, and had to be taken in old currency, the value of which was inserted in the passport. as the sadly diminished trade with egypt began to revive, natural products, which had been the former wealth of the sudan, were again made the medium of commerce. gum, ostrich feathers, tamarinds, senna-leaves, etc. were collected in the beit el mal, as well as ivory, and were sold by auction at local currency rates; but as the majority of these products came from the western districts, which, owing to war, famine, and disease had become almost depopulated, the supply was scanty. in exchange for these, the merchants brought from egypt manchester goods, which are greatly in demand in the sudan. gum is a monopoly, and the price paid for it varies greatly. the beit el mal purchases at the rate of twenty to thirty dollars (omla gedida), and sells to the merchants at the rate of thirty to forty dollars. the purchaser generally receives permission to take it to egypt, and is taxed at the rate of a dollar a hundred weight at berber, where the amount is carefully checked with the bill of lading. if he wishes to take it to suakin or assuan, he is obliged to pay a tax of a further dollar a hundred weight; but in this case it is a maria theresa dollar, which is equivalent to five omla gedidas; and thus already a sixth of the original cost has been added in taxation. ostrich-hunting has now become almost impossible, as the arabs have practically no guns, and it is most difficult to procure any ammunition. an attempt was made to hunt ostriches on horseback; but this also was forbidden by the khalifa, and, consequently, very few feathers are brought into the market. the arabs then tried ostrich-breeding, and caught some young birds; but this again was forbidden on the grounds that it was not allowed by religion, and the plucking of birds was made an offence which was most severely punished. the khalifa's object in imposing these absurd strictures was merely to appear in the eyes of the public as a very religious moslem. in consequence, ostrich-breeders had no other course but to kill their birds, and for some days omdurman was flooded with ostrich meat. i have heard that attempts are made by some of the desert arabs to rear ostriches in a species of cage made of the branches of trees; but the feathers obtained in this way are so few as to make the trade in this commodity almost unappreciable. ivory comes from the equatorial regions in considerable quantities about once a year, and generally finds its way to suakin; and as these districts appear to be gradually passing out of mahdist control, it is hardly probable that the amount will increase in future years. occasionally, a few tusks are brought from the southern darfur districts; but unless the dervishes re-occupy the bahr el ghazal in force, their ivory trade stands in danger of dying out altogether. goods can only be imported from egypt by the assuan and suakin roads. formerly, a certain amount of trade was carried on between suakin and kassala, and kassala and massawa; but since the occupation of the eastern sudan by the italians, it has almost entirely ceased. the goods imported are generally of an inferior quality, and consist mostly of material for women's dresses and men's jibbas; but to the inhabitants of the sudan this is a matter of little consequence, for they much prefer gaudy and tawdry material to the more durable fabrics. indeed, it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to find purchasers for a better class of goods in the sudan. one of the principal imports is scent of every variety, such as sandal-wood oil, cloves, scented seeds, etc., for all of which the sudanese ladies have a strong predilection. a certain amount of sugar, rice, inferior jams, and dried fruit also find purchasers amongst the more wealthy of the population. the importation of all articles made of iron, brass, tin, copper, etc. has, for some time past, been rigorously prohibited by the egyptian government, and now it is almost impossible to obtain a pair of scissors or a razor. copper cooking-utensils have risen to an enormous price; and most of those which previously existed have been bought up by the arsenal for the manufacture of cartridges. consequently, food is now cooked almost entirely in earthenware vessels. the tax of ushr (a tenth) is levied on all goods imported to the sudan. it must be paid in either money or kind, and is frequently taken more than once along the road. all goods on arrival in omdurman are taken to the beit el mal and stamped; and here the ushr is again taken. merchants, therefore, owing to the heavy taxes imposed, in addition to the presents they have to make to the various chiefs, have generally paid half as much again over and above the value of their goods. they are therefore obliged to considerably raise the price; and even then the total profit is by no means a large one. several of the more wealthy inhabitants of the sudan have taken to trading with egypt, not so much with a view to making money, as to spending a few months away from the atmosphere of the khalifa's authority. it is by means of trade alone that any of the unfortunate inhabitants of the sudan can temporarily escape from the hands of that tyrant, whose rule is more detested than ever. most of the merchants, having their wives, families, and relatives in the sudan, are obliged eventually to return; and, were it not for these ties, i think that few men who have the chance of leaving the sudan would ever return. but if trade in general is in a state of depression, there is one trade to which the advent of the mahdi and khalifa has given a great impulse. i refer, of course, to the slave-trade. as, however, the export of slaves to egypt is strictly prohibited, this trade is confined entirely to the provinces under the khalifa's control. in prohibiting the export of slaves, the khalifa acts on the wise principle that he should not increase the power of his adversaries at his own expense. it is, of course, quite impossible for him to absolutely prevent slaves being taken occasionally to egypt or arabia; but the slave-caravans which were formerly sent from the sudan have now almost completely stopped. a few years ago quantities of slaves were sent from abyssinia by abu anga, and from fashoda by zeki tummal, as well as from darfur and the nuba mountains by osman wad adam, and were generally sold by public auction for the benefit of the beit el mal, or the khalifa's private treasury. the transport of slaves is carried on with the same execrable and heartless cruelty which characterises their capture. of the thousands of abyssinian christians seized by abu anga, the majority were women and children; and under the cruel lash of the whip they were forced to march on foot the whole distance from abyssinia to omdurman; wrenched from their families, provided with scarcely enough food to keep body and soul together, barefooted, and almost naked, they were driven through the country like herds of cattle. the greater number of them perished on the road; and those who arrived in omdurman were in so pitiable a condition that purchasers could scarcely be found for them, whilst numbers were given away for nothing by the khalifa. after the defeat of the shilluks, zeki tummal packed thousands of these wretched creatures into the small barges used for the transport of his troops, and despatched them to omdurman. hundreds died from suffocation and overcrowding on the journey; and, on the arrival of the remnant, the khalifa appropriated most of the young men as recruits for his body-guard, whilst the women and young girls were sold by public auction, which lasted several days. hungry, and in many cases naked, these unfortunate creatures lay huddled together in front of the beit el mal. for food, they were given an utterly inadequate quantity of uncooked dhurra. hundreds fell ill; and for these poor wretches it was also impossible to find purchasers. wearily they dragged their emaciated bodies to the river bank, where they died; and as nobody would take the trouble to bury them, the corpses were pushed into the river and swept away. but a worse fate than this befell the slaves who had the misfortune to be sent from darfur along the broad stretches of waterless desert which lie between that province and omdurman. these miserable creatures were mercilessly driven forward day and night; and it would be impossible for me to describe here the execrable measures adopted by these brutal slave-drivers to force on their prey to their destination. when the poor wretches could go no further, their ears were cut off as a proof to the owner that his property had died on the road. some of my friends told me that on one occasion they had found an unfortunate woman whose ears had been cut off, but who was still alive. taking pity on her, they brought her to el fasher, where she eventually recovered, whilst her ears had been duly exposed in omdurman as proof of her death. latterly, no large caravans of slaves have arrived in omdurman, because the majority of the slave-producing districts, such as darfur, have become depopulated, or, in some cases, the tribes, such as the tama, massalit, etc., have thrown off allegiance to the khalifa. consignments, however, still come from reggaf; but, owing to the long and tedious journey, numbers of them perish on the way. as the supplies from gallabat, kordofan, and darfur have considerably diminished, the khalifa now allows the emirs to sell slaves to the itinerant gellabas; and the latter are obliged to sign a paper giving a descriptive return of their purchase, and the amount paid. they are permitted to re-sell on the same conditions. there is of course a daily sale of slaves in omdurman; but the purchase of male slaves is forbidden, as they are looked upon as the khalifa's monopoly, and are generally turned into soldiers. any one wishing to dispose of a male slave must send him to the beit el mal, where a purely nominal price is paid for him; and he is then, if likely to make a good soldier, recruited for the mulazemin, but if unsuitable, he is sent off to work as a labourer in his master's fields. the sale of women and girls is permissible everywhere, with the proviso that a paper must be signed by two witnesses of the sale, one of whom, if possible, should be a kadi, certifying that the slave sold is the actual property of the vendor. this system was brought into force because slaves frequently ran away from their masters, were caught and sold by other persons as their own property, and thus theft of slaves was a very common practice in omdurman. they were frequently enticed into other people's houses, or secretly induced to leave the fields, then thrown into chains and carried off to distant parts of the country, where they were sold at very low rates. in accordance with the mohammedan law, slaves cannot be witnesses; and, being well aware of their inferior position, these stolen creatures, as long as they are kindly treated, are not dissatisfied with their lot. in omdurman itself, in an open space a short distance to the southeast of the beit el mal, stands a house roughly built of mud-bricks, which is known as the suk er rekik (slave-market). under the pretext that i wanted to buy or exchange slaves, i several times received the khalifa's permission to visit it, and found ample opportunity for closely observing the conduct of the business. here professional slave-dealers assemble to offer their wares for sale. round the walls of the house numbers of women and girls stand or sit. they vary from the decrepit and aged half-clad slaves of the working-class, to the gaily-decked surya (concubine); and as the trade is looked upon as a perfectly natural and lawful business, those put up for sale are carefully examined from head to foot, without the least restriction, just as if they were animals. the mouth is opened to see if the teeth are in good condition. the upper part of the body and the back are laid bare; and the arms carefully looked at. they are then told to take a few steps backward or forward in order that their movements and gait may be examined. a series of questions are put to them to test their knowledge of arabic. in fact, they have to submit to any examination the intending purchaser may wish to make. suryas, of course, vary considerably in price; but the whole matter is treated by the slaves without the smallest concern. they consider it perfectly natural, and have no notion of being treated otherwise. only occasionally one can see by the expression of a woman or girl that she feels this close scrutiny; possibly her position with her former master was rather that of a servant than a slave, or she may have been looked upon almost as a member of the family, and may have been brought to this unhappy position by force of circumstances, or through some hateful inhumanity on the part of her former master. when the intending purchaser has completed his scrutiny, he then refers to the dealer, asks him what he paid for her, or if he has any other better wares for sale. he will probably complain that her face is not pretty enough, that her body is not sufficiently developed, that she does not speak arabic, and so on, with the object of reducing the price as much as possible; whilst, on the other hand, the owner will do his utmost to show up her good qualities, charms, etc., into the detail of which it is not necessary to enter here. amongst the various "secret defects" which oblige the dealer to reduce his price are snoring, bad qualities of character, such as thieving, and many others; but when at last the sale has been finally arranged, the paper is drawn out and signed, the money paid, and the slave becomes the property of her new master. payment is always made in local currency (omla gedida dollars), and runs approximately as follows:-- for an aged working slave, fifty to eighty dollars; for a middle aged woman eighty to one hundred and twenty dollars; for young girls between eight and eleven years of age, according to looks, one hundred and ten to one hundred and sixty dollars; and for suryas (concubines), according to looks, one hundred and eighty to seven hundred dollars. these rates, of course, vary also according to market value, or special demand for a particular race. there are practically no industries in the sudan, as, with the exception of the articles i have already mentioned, there are no exports. formerly, gold and silver filigree work was sent to egypt; but, owing to the scarcity of these metals, and to the mahdi's edict against wearing jewellery, this export has altogether ceased. there is a considerable manufacture and trade in long and short spears of various shapes, stirrup-irons, horse and donkey bits, knives for fastening on the arm, as well as agricultural implements. wooden saddles for horses, camels, and mules, angarebs, boxes for carrying clothes, and doors, windows, and shutters of a primitive description are also made. formerly, boat-building was extensively carried on; but, owing to the khalifa's confiscation of all boats on the nile, it ceased almost entirely, till about a year ago, when, with the khalifa's permission, it re-commenced. as, however, all new boats are taxed highly by the beit el mal, there is little inducement to the builders to undertake such profitless work. [illustration: in the slave market, omdurman.] there is a certain amount of leather-work in red and yellow shoes, sandals, saddles of different sorts, harness, amulets, sword scabbards, and knife sheaths, etc., whilst whips in large quantities are made from the hide of the hippopotamus. there is also a considerable cotton industry. every woman or girl spins for her own use or for sale; and in every village there are numbers of weavers who work the spun-yarn into a variety of materials. in the gezira are woven common cotton stuffs,--such as tobs, damur, and genj (names of cloths) in lengths of about ten yards. these are brought to the market in large quantities, and are principally used for the clothing of the commoner classes. the finest yarns are spun in the province of berber. strips of coloured silk are frequently interwoven in the material, which is used principally for turbans and hazams (the strips of cotton which are used to bind round the body), as well as coverings of various sorts, and shawls. a certain amount of cotton stuff is made in the dongola province; but that district is chiefly noted for the manufacture of sail-cloth. materials from kordofan are noted for their durability rather than for their beauty. in addition to spinning, the women occupy themselves largely in plaiting mats of various shapes and sizes from the leaves of the dom palm, which are sold largely in all parts of the sudan. the best quality of these mats is made from the narrow strips of the palm leaves, barley straw, and thin pieces of leather. mats of a similar description are also made for placing under dishes on the dinner-table. the workmanship of some of these is so fine and good that a certain quantity find their way to egypt, where they are sold as curiosities. the darfur women are specially clever in making these mats, into which are interwoven various sorts of glass beads, and the result is sometimes extremely pretty. in the preceding pages, i have endeavoured to give a brief outline of the khalifa's life, and the existing state of affairs in the country; but this would not be complete without a few remarks regarding the moral condition of the people. the attempted regeneration of the faith by the mahdi, who disregarded the former religious teaching and customs, has resulted in a deterioration of morals, which, even at the best of times, were very lax in the sudan. partly from fear of the khalifa, and partly for their own personal interests and advantage, the people have made religion a mere profession; and this has now become their second nature, and has brought with it a condition of immorality which is almost indescribable. the majority of the inhabitants, unhappy and discontented with the existing state of affairs, and fearing that their personal freedom may become even more restricted than it is, seem to have determined to enjoy their life as much as their means will allow, and to lose no time about it. as there is practically no social life or spiritual intercourse, they seem to have resolved to make up for this want by indulging their passion for women to an abnormal extent. their object is to obtain as many of these in marriage as possible, as well as concubines; and the mahdi's tenets allow them the fullest scope in this direction. for instance, the expenses in connection with marriage have been greatly diminished. the dowry for a girl has been reduced from ten to five dollars; and for a widow, five dollars, a common dress, a pair of shoes or sandals, and a few scents. should a man desire to marry a girl, her father or guardian must consent, unless there are some very cogent reasons for not doing so. under any circumstances, they are held responsible that their daughters or wards become wives as soon as they reach a convenient age. the acquisition, therefore, of four wives--which is the number authorised by the kuran--has become a very simple matter, and in most cases is considered merely a means of acquiring a small amount of personal property. moreover, a large proportion of the women are quite agreeable to this arrangement, and enter into matrimony either with the object of obtaining some clothes and a little money, or temporarily changing their mode of life, being well aware that, in accordance with the law, they can dissolve marriage ties without difficulty. if a woman seeks a divorce, she retains her dowry, unless the separation rises from aversion to her husband, in which case the dowry is returned if the man wishes it. i know many men who, in the space of ten years, have been married forty or fifty times at least; and there are also many women who, during the same period, have had fifteen or twenty husbands, and in their case the law enjoins that between each divorce they must wait three months at least. as a rule, concubines, of whom a man may legally have as many as he likes, lead a most immoral life. they rarely live in the same house as their master, unless they have children by him, in which case they cannot be sold; but in the majority of cases they are bought with the object of being retained merely for a very short time, and subsequently sold again at a profit. this constant changing of hands leads to great moral deterioration. their youth and beauty quickly fade; and, as a rule, they age prematurely, and then enter upon a life of hardship and moral degradation which it is almost impossible to conceive. it is a common practice for merchants to make pecuniary profit out of the immorality of their slaves. they buy young girls, permit them to enjoy a certain amount of freedom by seeking a shelter and livelihood in the manner which suits them best; and for this privilege they refund to their masters a percentage of their gains. the greatest vice exists amongst the slaves of the mulazemin. the latter entice women to their quarters, where they remain a short time with them as their wives; but the freest interchange takes place between them. the khalifa does not seem to think it worth while to check this immorality, as he imagines that by allowing them to please themselves, his own slaves will become more attached to him, and will not wish to leave him. it may be readily conceived that the result of this moral laxity has led to the prevalence of the worst sort of disease, which has taken such a hold of all classes of the population, both free and slaves, that were it not for the warm and dry climate, the ravages would be terrible. as it is, the general state of health is very unsatisfactory, and is considerably aggravated by the complete absence of medicines necessary to check the malady. a certain number of people also indulge in unnatural love: and at first the khalifa made some attempt to check this by banishment to reggaf; but latterly he has given up doing so. he has come to the conclusion that it is much easier to rule by despotism and tyranny, a degraded nation than one which possesses a high standard of morality. for this reason, he both hates and fears the jaalin, who inhabit the nile banks between hagger el asal and berber, because they are almost the only arabs in the sudan who maintain a well-regulated family life, and hold morality in high esteem as a necessary condition for a healthy and contented existence. the widows of the mahdi are forcibly prevented from leading a corrupt life; as, immediately after his master's death, the khalifa, in honour of his memory, confined these women in houses surrounded by high walls, in the immediate vicinity of his tomb, where they are strictly guarded by eunuchs. much against their will, not only the wives and concubines, but also many of the young girls,--most of whom were daughters of former government officials, and who were taken into the harem when quite young, in order to become his future wives,--have been thus forcibly deprived of the possibility of re-marrying, and are so closely guarded that they are only permitted to see their female relatives once a year. they are supplied merely with the bare necessaries of life, and long for their freedom. let us hope that before very long it may come! in spite of his despotism, the khalifa is in considerable fear of his life. he ruthlessly evicted all the local inhabitants of those portions of the town in the immediate neighbourhood of his own residence; and their places have been taken by his enormous body-guard, whose numbers he daily seeks to increase. these he has surrounded by an immense wall, within which he and his relatives live, while all persons of whom he is in the slightest degree suspicious are forced to reside without the enclosure. within, however, all is not peace and contentment. the constant duties he imposes on his body-guard have produced a feeling of irritation. they grumble at the small pay they receive, and do not appreciate the restrictions imposed on their social life. thousands of these who belong to the free arab tribes are prevented from having any intercourse whatever with their relations. they are scarcely ever permitted to quit the enclosure; and their smallest offences are punished with appalling severity. abdullahi is surrounded day and night by his own specially appointed guard, and by numbers of faithful servants; and no persons--not even his nearest relatives--are permitted to approach him with arms in their hands. should any one be commanded to see the khalifa, his sword and knife, which he invariably wears, are taken from him, and he is generally searched before being admitted to the audience-chamber. this general mistrust has added to his unpopularity; and, even amongst his most devoted adherents, remarks are frequently let fall in an undertone, commenting on his despotism and his personal fears. in spite, however, of all this undue severity, the khalifa has not succeeded in keeping his own tribe in hand. on their first arrival in the nile valley, they indulged in wholesale raids on the local population, seizing their grain, ravishing their women, and carrying off their children. indeed affairs became so serious that the khalifa was obliged to issue an order that no taaisha arab would be permitted to leave the town without special permission; but his instructions were practically ignored, and lawlessness is even more rife than before. the conduct of these arabs is unbearable. they openly boast that their relationship with the khalifa has made them masters of the country, and that they intend to assert themselves. they have seized all the best pastures for their cattle and horses; and they live on the fat of the land,--a state of affairs which has caused considerable jealousy amongst the other western tribes, who view the taaisha with no very friendly feelings. of all this the khalifa is well aware; but i do not think he realises how unpopular he really is, and his constant effort is to retain the sympathy of his emirs by frequently sending them secretly by night presents of money and slaves. the latter do not hesitate to accept these gifts, which they know have been unfairly gained; and their opinion of the khalifa, instead of being improved, remains as it was before. he imagined that the learned and educated element of the population--which is exceedingly small--was on his side, because he allowed kadi hussein to give lectures in the mosque after noon and evening prayers on the subject of the moslem rights of inheritance. as all such re-unions were forbidden by the mahdi, some of the ulema (learned men) were stupid enough to think that this new departure was a sign of progress. the khalifa himself attended these lectures; and, noticing one day that some of the ulema, in order to rest themselves, sat cross-legged instead of in a submissive attitude of prayer, he openly reprimanded them, and declared in a loud voice that all persons, whether learned or ignorant, must in his presence pay him the respect due to him. a few days later, kadi hussein inadvertently quoted in his lecture a chapter to the effect that learning was a high virtue, and that kings and princes should realise this, and accept the advice of learned men. the khalifa, who is utterly ignorant of reading and writing, got up and left the mosque in a rage; and, a few days later, he issued an order that the meetings should be discontinued for the future. kadi hussein immediately fell in favour, and soon afterwards had the further misfortune to disagree with the khalifa on a question respecting slaves. the latter had called upon the kadis for an opinion as to whether all male and female slaves who might have taken refuge with the mulazemin, and were not claimed by their rightful owners within twenty days, should not become the actual property of their new masters; but as no persons living outside the wall are under any circumstances permitted to enter the enclosure, it stands to reason that masters of runaway slaves have no possibility of searching the quarters of the mulazemin. on these grounds the kadi suggested that runaway slaves should be publicly exposed in the market-place for a short time, and that if no one appeared to claim them within a specified period, they should then become the property of the beit el mal. as the khalifa had previously given private instructions to his mulazemin to retain all slaves belonging to the nile valley tribes, and to return only those who belonged to the western arabs, the kadi's proposition did not at all suit him, whilst the other kadis, to whom he had referred the matter, concurred with him against kadi hussein. the friends of the latter now trembled for his life; but the khalifa allowed it to pass for the moment, and is only waiting for some other opportunity to involve him more deeply in what he is pleased to term "an act of disobedience." the khalifa has not moved out of omdurman for upwards of ten years. here he has centralised all power, stored up all ammunition, and gathered under his personal surveillance all those whom he suspects, obliging them to say the five prayers daily in his presence, and listen to his sermons. he has declared omdurman to be the sacred city of the mahdi. it is strange to think that ten years ago this great town was merely a little village lying opposite to khartum, and inhabited by a few brigands. it was not for some time after the fall of khartum that the mahdi decided to settle there. mimosa-trees filled up the space now occupied by the mosque and the residences of the three khalifas. abdullahi took as his own property all ground lying south of the mosque, whilst that on the north side was divided between khalifa sherif and khalifa ali wad helu. during his lifetime, the mahdi had declared that omdurman was merely a temporary camp, as the prophet had revealed to him that he should depart this life in syria, after conquering egypt and arabia; but his early death had shattered all his plans and the hopes of his followers. from north to south, the new city covers a length of about six english miles. the southern extremity lies almost exactly opposite the southwest end of khartum. at first, every one wanted to live as near the river banks as possible, in order to facilitate the drawing of water, consequently the breadth of the city is considerably less than its length; and it is in no place over three miles in width. at first, it consisted of thousands and thousands of straw huts; and the mosque was originally an oblong enclosure surrounded by a mud wall four hundred and sixty yards long and three hundred and fifty yards broad; but this has now been replaced by one made of burnt brick, and then whitewashed over. after this, the khalifa began building brick houses for himself and his brother, then for his relatives, whilst the emirs and most of the wealthy people followed his example. i have already described the construction of the mahdi's tomb; but before i left omdurman much of the whitewash had been knocked off by the weather, which spoilt its general appearance. above the apex of the dome are three hollow brass balls, one above the other, connected together by a lance, the head of which forms the top ornament of the structure. i have often heard people say that the khalifa erected this spear to show that he is perfectly prepared to declare war against the heavens if his wishes are not carried out. occasionally abdullahi shuts himself up for hours in this mausoleum, probably with the object of obtaining some special inspiration; but since the execution of the mahdi's relatives, his visits are much less frequent; and it is generally supposed he dreads to be alone with the body of his dead master, whose tenets and influence he has, not in words but in deeds, so persistently overturned. every friday, the large doors in the surrounding enclosure are opened to admit the pilgrims; and as every mahdist is ordered to attend on these days to repeat the prayers for the dead, thousands are to be seen in the various attitudes of prayer, beseeching the protection of the almighty through the intermediary of the saint (?) who lies buried there; but i doubt not that many fervent prayers ascend to the throne of god for relief from the terrible oppression and tyranny of his despotic successor. south of the tomb, and adjoining the great mosque, lies the enormous enclosure of the khalifa. it consists of a high wall built of red bricks, which is subdivided into several smaller courts, all of which are in communication with each other; and nearest to the mosque are his own private apartments, to the east of which are those of his wives, the stables, store-houses, quarters of the eunuchs, etc., etc. in the centre of the eastern face of the mosque is a large wooden door (the other entrances to the mosque have no doors) through which admission is obtained to the khalifa's private apartments and reception chambers. on entering the main gate, one passes through a sort of porch, leading into a small court, in which are two rooms, one side of each of which is left completely open; and it is here that the khalifa receives his guests. a door leads out of this court into the private apartments; and the youthful attendants are the only persons allowed to enter. the various houses within the enclosure are constructed in the shape of large detached halls, on one or both sides of which are verandahs. on the roof of one of these buildings a second story has been added, on all four sides of which are windows, from which a complete view of the town can be obtained. the reception chambers are furnished with the greatest simplicity. an angareb, over which a palm-mat is spread, is the only article of furniture; but his interior apartments are provided with all the luxuries it is possible to procure in the sudan. brass and iron bedsteads with mosquito curtains,--the spoil of khartum,--carpets, silk-covered cushions, door and window curtains of every variety of colour and texture, are the principal articles of furniture, while the verandahs are provided with the universal angareb and palm-mat. compared with the khalifa's early mode of life, these articles constitute the most extreme luxuries. to the east of the khalifa's enclosure lies the house of his son, which is furnished much in the same style as that of his father, but with even greater luxury. several large brass chandeliers from khartum are suspended from the ceilings; and there is an immense garden made from earth transported from the banks of the nile, and in which hundreds of slaves are employed daily. the latter are justly irritated with the great love of show which is the distinguishing characteristic of their young master, whilst they themselves are provided with scarcely enough food for their maintenance. the khalifa and his son spend much of their time in building and furnishing new apartments, and in making their lives as pleasant and comfortable as possible. yakub follows their example; and every day numbers of workmen are to be seen streaming towards these two houses, carrying beams, stone, mortar, and other requisite building-material. khalifa ali wad helu's house is very much smaller, and is furnished with great simplicity. in addition to his principal residence, abdullahi possesses houses in the northern and southern districts of the city; but they are built and furnished on much simpler lines, and are merely used by him as rest-houses when he despatches troops on expeditions from the capital, or goes out to inspect freshly arrived detachments from the provinces. he seldom stays in these houses more than a day or two at a time. he has also built a house near the river, and close to the old government fort, the ditches of which have now been filled in. he generally goes to this house when steamers are about to start for reggaf, in order that he may personally superintend embarkations. the beit el amana, or arsenal, is separated from yakub's house by a broad open space. it consists of a large building enclosed by stone walls, and here are stored the guns, rifles, ammunition, and other warlike material, as well as the five carriages belonging to the governor-generals and to the catholic mission. at intervals of every few paces sentries are posted in small sentry boxes; and they are charged to allow no unauthorised persons to enter the building. just north of the arsenal lies a building in which are stored the flags of all the emirs residing in omdurman; and beside it is a semi-circular building about twenty feet high, provided with stairs, where the khalifa's war-drums are kept. a little further to the east is the cartridge and small-arms manufactory. on the north side of the city, and close to the river, is the beit el mal, which is an enormous walled-in enclosure subdivided into a variety of courts in which are stored goods coming from all parts of the sudan and from egypt, as well as grain stores and slave courts. a little to the south of the beit el mal lies the public slave-market, and, in close proximity, the beit el mal of the mulazemin has been erected. the town of omdurman is built for the most part on fairly level ground, but here and there are a few small hills. the soil consists mostly of hard red clay, and is very stony, with occasional patches of sand. for his own convenience, the khalifa has driven large straight roads through various parts of the town; and to make way for these numbers of houses were levelled, but no compensation was given to their owners. a glance at the rough plan attached to the end of the book will give the reader an approximate idea of the extent and general situation of the town and principal buildings, and its relative position with reference to khartum, which is now a complete ruin, the dock-yard alone being kept up, and communication between it and omdurman maintained by a submarine cable worked by some of the former government telegraph officials. outside the large unfinished wall built along the road leading to the beit el mal are a number of shops belonging to the various trades, all of which are kept quite distinct,--such as carpenters, barbers, tailors, butchers, etc., etc. the mehekemet es suk (market police) are charged with maintaining order in the town; and the gallows erected in various parts of the city are a very evident indication of the system of government of the country. the population of the city is located entirely according to tribes. the western arabs live for the most part in the southern quarters, whilst the northern portion has been allotted to the nile valley people; and in addition to the market police, the various sections of the populace are obliged to supply a number of watchmen for the preservation of public security in their respective quarters, and they must report any disturbances to the night patrols. with the exception of the few broad roads which the khalifa has made for his own convenience, the only communications between the various quarters consist of numbers of narrow winding lanes; and in these all the filth of the city is collected. their wretched condition, and the smells which emanate from these pestilential by-paths are beyond description. dead horses, camels, donkeys, and goats block the way; and the foulest refuse lies scattered about. before certain feast-days, the khalifa issues orders that the city is to be cleaned; but, beyond sweeping all these carcases and refuse into corners, nothing further is done; and when the rainy season begins the fetid air exhaling from these decaying rubbish heaps generally produces some fatal epidemic, which sweeps off the inhabitants by hundreds. formerly, there were cemeteries within the city; but now all the dead must be buried in the desert north of the parade ground. fever and dysentery are the prevailing maladies in omdurman, and between the months of november and march an almost continuous epidemic of typhus fever rages. of late years numbers of new wells have been made. those north of the mosque give good water; but those in the southern quarters of the city are mostly brackish. they vary in depth from thirty to ninety feet, and are generally dug by the prisoners under the direction of the saier. [illustration: coming from market, omdurman.] "he has been taken to the saier," is an expression one frequently hears; and it means that some wretched creature has been carried off to the prison. the mere mention of this word awakens feelings of horror and dread in the minds of all who hear it. the prison is situated in the southeastern quarter of the city, near the river, and is surrounded by a high wall. a gate, strongly guarded day and night by armed blacks, gives access to an inner court, in which several small mud and stone huts have been erected. during the day-time, the unhappy prisoners, most of them heavily chained and manacled, lie about in the shade of the buildings. complete silence prevails, broken only by the clanking of the chains, the hoarse orders of the hard-hearted warders, or the cries of some poor wretch who is being mercilessly flogged. some of the prisoners who may have specially incurred the khalifa's displeasure, are loaded with heavier chains and manacles than the rest, and are interned in the small huts and debarred from all intercourse with their fellow-prisoners. they generally receive only sufficient nourishment to keep them alive. ordinary prisoners receive no regular supply of food; but their relatives are allowed to provide for them. it often happens that long before a meal reaches the person for whom it is intended, a very large portion of it has been consumed by the rapacious and unscrupulous warders; and sometimes the prisoner gets nothing whatever. at night, the wretched creatures are driven like sheep into the stone huts, which are not provided with windows, and are consequently quite unventilated. regardless of prayers and entreaties, they are pushed pell-mell into these living graves, which are generally so tightly packed that it is quite impossible to lie down. the weaker are trampled down by the stronger; and not infrequently the warder opens the door in the morning to find that some of his victims have succumbed to suffocation and ill-usage in these horrible cells. it is a painful sight to see scores of half-suffocated individuals pouring out of these dens, bathed in perspiration, and utterly exhausted by the turmoil of the long and sleepless night. once emerged, they sink down, more dead than alive, under the shade of the walls, and spend the remainder of the day in trying to recover from the effects of the previous night, and gain sufficient strength to undergo the horrors of that which is to follow. one would think that death was preferable to such an existence. still these unfortunates cling to life, and pray to god to relieve them from their sufferings. in spite of the prison being invariably overcrowded, and notwithstanding the horrors of prison life, i do not ever remember having heard of a case of suicide amongst the unfortunate inmates. charles neufeld has spent some years in the saier, often ill, subject to the greatest privations, and merely kept alive by the occasional supplies which reached him through the black servant he brought with him from egypt, and who, in turn, was assisted by the other europeans in omdurman. he managed to survive, though heavily chained by the neck, and wearing two large irons round his feet. on one occasion, he refused to spend the night in one of the stone huts, which he aptly described as "the last station on the way to hell," and for this act of disobedience he was severely flogged; but he bore it without a murmur, until his tormentors--amazed at his powers of endurance--cried out, "why do you not complain? why do you not ask for mercy?" "that is for others to do, not for me," was the strong-hearted reply which gained for him the respect of even his gaolers. after enduring three years of imprisonment, his irons were lightened; and, with only a chain joining his ankles, he was removed to khartum, where he was ordered to refine saltpetre for the manufacture of gunpowder, under the superintendence of wad hamednalla. here his condition was much improved; and he received a small monthly remuneration for his work, which sufficed to provide him with the bare necessaries of life. as the saltpetre refinery adjoins the old church of the mission, the latter has thus been saved from destruction. after his daily hard work is over, neufeld is allowed to rest in the mission gardens; and here, no doubt, his thoughts often revert to his family at home, and he must in his heart curse the evil day which induced him to quit egypt, and thoughtlessly venture into the clutches of the khalifa. for him fate has indeed been cruel; and most fervently do i hope that ere long he may be reunited with his relatives, who have not abandoned all hope of seeing him again. in europe, there is no lack of friends who are ready to do all in their power to help him; but it rests with god alone to release this poor captive from his misery. it makes my heart ache to think of all the horrors that have been enacted in that dreadful prison. there was the sad case of poor sheikh khalil, who had been despatched from cairo with letters to the khalifa, informing him of the number and names of the prisoners who had been captured at the battle of toski, all of whom, he was assured, were being well cared for, and would eventually be set free; and he was requested to hand over to the sheikh the sword and medals of general gordon, which, it was assumed, were in his possession. khalil's companion, beshara, was sent back with the letters unanswered, whilst the unfortunate emissary, who was an egyptian by birth, was thrown into chains, under the pretext that he had been sent as a spy. ill-treated and deprived of nourishment, he became so weak that he could not rise from the ground. his tormentors even refused him water to drink; and at last death came to him as a happy release from his sufferings. malech, a jewish merchant of tunis, who had come to kassala with abu girga's permission, was seized by the khalifa's orders, and brought to omdurman, where he remains in captivity in the saier to this day. he is as thin as a skeleton, and is driven almost to despair. he is kept alive by the efforts of his own community, who have been forced to become moslems, and who succeed in providing him with small quantities of food. two ababda arabs, arrested on suspicion of carrying letters to europeans in omdurman, were seized and imprisoned, and died soon after of starvation. the alarm in the european colony was great; but fortunately it transpired that the letters were for a copt from his relations in cairo. the great sheikh of the gimeh tribe, asakr abu kalam, who had shown such friendship and hospitality to the khalifa and his father in early days, was ruthlessly seized and thrown into chains, because it came to the khalifa's ears that he had spoken disparagingly of the present condition of the sudan, and had expressed regret at having taken up arms against the government. he was eventually exiled to reggaf, whilst his wife, who was a well-known beauty in the sudan, was torn from the arms of her husband at the hour of his departure, and carried off to the khalifa's harem. the well-known emir, zeki tummal, on being seized, was thrown into a small stone building the shape of a coffin, the door of which was built up. he was given no food whatever; but a small amount of water was handed to him through an aperture in the wall. for twenty-three days, he suffered all the horrors of starvation; but no sound or complaint was heard to issue from that living grave. too proud to beg, and well aware of the futility of doing so, he lingered on till the twenty-fourth day, when death carried him out of reach of his tormentors. the saier and his warders watched, through the aperture, the death agonies of the wretched man; and when at length he had ceased to struggle, they hurried off to give their lord and master the joyful news. that night zeki's body was removed to the western quarter of the city, and there buried amongst a heap of old ruins, with his back turned towards mecca.[ ] the khalifa, not content with having tormented him in life, thought thus to deprive him of peace in the world to come. i have already described how the khalifa disposed of his most trusted adherent, the kadi ahmed. on reaching the saier, he was thrown into the hut in which zeki had been interned; and, a few days after, he was visited, at the command of the khalifa, by two other kadis, who asked where he had hidden his money. "tell your master, the khalifa," said he, "that i have settled my account with this world; and i know of no place where gold or silver can be found." to their further inquiries he remained perfectly silent; and the two myrmidons returned, crestfallen, to their master. this happened only a few days before i quitted omdurman. since my return to egypt, i have ascertained that he died shortly afterwards, under similar circumstances to those of zeki. one could fill a volume with descriptions of the horrors and cruelties enacted in the terrible saier; but it is useless to weary the reader with further accounts of the atrocities committed by order of that merciless tyrant, the khalifa. chapter xviii. plans for escape. european captives in omdurman--artin, the watchmaker--friends in cairo--efforts of my family to help me--difficulties of communication--babakr abu sebiba's failure--efforts of baron heidler and the egyptian intelligence department--constant failures--osheikh karrar--abderrahman matures his plans--hopes and fears--my plan to gain time--i quit my hut never to return. in keeping me constantly close to his person, the khalifa had a twofold object. he knew that i was the only remaining high egyptian official who had a thorough knowledge of the sudan, had traversed almost the entire country, and was complete master of the language. utterly ignorant of the political situation, he imagined that if i succeeded in escaping, i should induce the egyptian government, or some european power, to enter the sudan; and he well knew that in that case i should form a link between it and the principal tribal chiefs who were disaffected to him, and longed for the return of a settled form of government. on the other hand, it flattered his vanity to have practically as his slave the man who had formerly governed the whole of the great province of darfur, including his own country and tribe. he never attempted to conceal his feelings in this respect, and frequently said to the western arabs, "see, this is the man who was formerly our master, and under whose arbitrary rule we suffered. now he is my servant, and must obey my commands at all times. see, this is the man who formerly indulged in the pleasures and vices of the world, and now he has to wear an unwashed jibba and walk barefooted. god indeed is merciful and gracious!" he paid much less attention to the other european captives, who gained a small livelihood by working at various trades in a quarter near the market-place, where they had built their own huts, and were left almost undisturbed by the other inhabitants of the city. father ohrwalder lived by weaving. father rosignoli and beppo rognotto (a former mission brother) kept a cookshop in the market-place, and the sisters lived with them until--with the exception of sister theresa grigolini--they succeeded in escaping. then there is giuseppe cuzzi, one of a. marquet's former clerks, and a number of greeks, syrian christians, and copts,--in all some forty-five men who have married either christians born in the country or egyptians. the entire colony is termed the muslimania[ ] quarter, and they have elected from amongst themselves an emir, under whose orders they agree to live, and who is responsible to the khalifa for every member of the colony. the present emir is a certain greek called nicola, whose arabic name is abdullahi. no one is on any account allowed to quit omdurman; and they are obliged to guarantee each other. consequently when father rosignoli escaped, his companion beppo was thrown into prison, and was in chains when i left the town. after father ohrwalder's flight a much stricter surveillance was exercised over all these unfortunates. a place has been allotted to them in the northeastern portion of the mosque, where they have to attend prayers daily; but not being under special control, they take it in turns to be present, so that, in case of inquiry, the colony shall always be represented. their huts are built adjoining each other, and in this way they can communicate without difficulty, and thus derive some alleviation of their sad lot by mutual sympathy; but their children are obliged to live in the various tekias (religious rest-houses), where they are taught the kuran. i have already described my own surroundings and mode of life; and it now remains for me to add that i was only permitted to converse with a few of the body-guard who were, like myself, either under surveillance or specially employed as spies by the khalifa to watch and report our every action and word. i was seldom permitted to enter the town; and i was strictly forbidden to make any visits. the khalifa is very fond of watches and clocks; and one of my many duties was to wind them up, and generally look after them. i availed myself of this privilege to occasionally visit an armenian watchmaker named artin, on the pretext that a clock or watch required repair. his house was situated near the market-place; and here i used to arrange meetings with some of the people i particularly wished to see. i never confided in artin, and those who came to the shop invariably made some small purchases; and in doing so we succeeded in exchanging, as it were quite casually, a few words. most of my time was spent at the khalifa's gate reading the kuran. i was not permitted to write, as abdullahi thought it unnecessary for me to practise an art of which he himself was ignorant. i invariably accompanied my master to the mosque, or when he appeared in public, and on these occasions my duties were somewhat those of an aide-de-camp. being in receipt of no salary, my food was of the simplest, and consisted generally of asida, various sorts of sauces, and occasionally a little meat purchased in the market. abdullahi knew perfectly that i longed for freedom; and, in spite of all my efforts to conceal it, i could not overcome his very rational suspicion of me. by constant gifts of slaves, by offers of marriage with his family, and various other expedients, he did all he could to make ties which he thought would hold me down; but my continued refusal of these very questionable benefits only confirmed his suspicions that i intended to escape on the first possible occasion. after the fall of khartum, my family had done all in their power to obtain news of me; but fortunately they realised how careful they must be. herr von gsiller, the austro-hungarian consul-general in egypt, spared no pains to get news of me, and his efforts were heartily seconded by the officers attached to the egyptian army, and other officials. it was at his suggestion that my relatives had communicated with me through the governor of suakin, in ; and i have described in the preceding pages how i was eventually forbidden by the khalifa to hold any further intercourse with the outside world. already my relations with the khalifa had become much strained, owing to these events; and they became much more so when a letter reached the khalifa from herr von rosty (who had succeeded herr von gsiller), asking his permission to send a priest to minister to the members of the mission, who, he stated, were austrian subjects. at the same time, he had written to me asking for information on the present situation in the sudan. the khalifa, of course, took no notice of herr von rosty's letter, and accused me of duplicity and disloyalty, because i had previously informed him that the members of the mission, with the exception of father ohrwalder, were italians. i had deliberately done this, as i feared that abdullahi, in one of his sudden outbursts of passion against me, might vent his rage on those whom he believed to be my compatriots, and whom i was anxious to save; but now this letter, stating directly the contrary, was a heavy blow. it was quite beyond the khalifa's capacity to understand that members of various nationalities could be, for the purpose of the mission, under austrian protection; and for a long time he incessantly upbraided me for having deceived him. my family had placed a considerable sum of money at the disposal of the austrian consul-general, with the object of assisting me; and they, through the kind intervention of the various sirdars of the egyptian army, and of major wingate, the director of military intelligence, succeeded in sending me occasional sums by the hands of trustworthy arabs. of course i invariably received considerably smaller sums than those which had been originally confided to them, though i was obliged to give receipts for the full amounts. however, i was truly thankful for what i received; and by the system which was established i was enabled to send my relatives scraps of information about myself and my affairs. i was obliged to exercise the most extreme caution in spending the money thus received, lest suspicion should be aroused; and therefore i continued to live as simply as possible, and expended all i could spare in cementing my various friendships. my friends in cairo had fully realised that, after i had been prevented from holding any communication with the outside, it was quite impossible for them to secure my release from the khalifa's hands by ordinary methods. they therefore spared no efforts to afford me the means of affecting my escape should an opportunity occur. from the earliest days of my captivity, i had realised that my only hope of freedom lay in flight; and although the rise and development of this great movement interested me considerably,--especially as i had exceptional means of watching it,--i never for an instant abandoned the idea of succeeding in my object, though i little dreamt that twelve long years of hardship, misery, and humiliation must elapse before it could be accomplished. for years, i did not confide my secret to a soul; but eventually i told ibrahim adlan of my intentions; and he promised to assist me to the best of his ability. unfortunately, the khalifa executed him soon afterwards; and in him i lost a true and kind friend and protector. on his death, i confided my secret to two influential individuals on whose silence i could rely; and though i knew that partly owing to their liking for me, and partly owing to their hatred of the khalifa, they would have willingly assisted me in the accomplishment of my object, our negotiations came to nothing. the money required would, i knew, be forthcoming; but they dreaded that after my escape their names might be eventually divulged; and as they were tied by their families to live in the sudan, they knew that, in the event of discovery, the khalifa would wreak his vengeance on their defenceless wives and children. meanwhile, my family had not been idle; and no sacrifice was too great for their love. living in vienna, ignorant of the real state of affairs in the sudan, and not aware of how they could best help me, they trustfully continued to place considerable sums of money at the disposal of the austrian agency in cairo, the representative of which received instructions from the minister of foreign affairs to utilise it to the best of his ability. his excellency baron heidler von egeregg--now ambassador and minister plenipotentiary, and who has been for some years consul-general in cairo--took a personal interest in my affairs, and did everything in his power to facilitate my escape. but it is only possible to secure the services of reliable persons through the intermediary of government officials; and with this object in view, he enlisted the sympathies, first of colonel schaeffer bey, and subsequently of major wingate, who had on several previous occasions endeavoured to assist me; and it is to his and to baron heidler's incessant efforts that i owe my freedom. without their intervention, it would not have been possible to procure reliable arabs to bring me occasional sums of money; and i owe to them my heartiest thanks for their frequent attempts to effect my rescue; and although, with the exception of the last, they all failed, the arrangements were such that the khalifa and his myrmidons never had the slightest suspicion of them. early in february, , the former chief of the dongola camel postmen, babakr abu sebiba, arrived in omdurman from egypt. he was an ababda arab; and when brought before the khalifa, he asserted that he had escaped from assuan, that he sought the khalifa's pardon, and begged to be allowed to settle down in berber. as he had letters of introduction to the emir of berber, zeki osman, permission was accorded to him; and when going out at the door of the mosque, he nudged me, and whispered, "i have come for you; arrange for an interview." "to-morrow after evening prayers, here in the mosque," was my reply; and he then disappeared. although i had not given up hope of escape, i never dared to be very sanguine; for i had had much experience of these arabs and sudanese, and knew that often their words go for nought, and their promises are more frequently broken than kept. i therefore spent the following day much as usual, though i could not help wondering what would be the upshot of the interview. after evening prayers, and when all the people had left the mosque, babakr passed the door at which i had seen him the previous day. cautiously i followed him; and together we entered the thatched portion of the building, which was in deep shade. out of sight, and out of hearing, babakr now handed me a small tin box, which, from the smell, seemed to contain coffee, saying, "this box has a double bottom. open and read the papers enclosed in it; and i shall be here again to-morrow at the same hour." concealing the box under my jibba, i returned to my place, and, as chance fell out, was summoned that evening to sup with the khalifa. imagine my feelings: for the box was sufficiently large to be seen under my clothes; and here was i seated opposite my master with his lynx eyes fixed on me. fortunately he was rather tired, and only talked on general subjects; though he did not fail to caution me to be loyal, or he would punish me unmercifully. of course i assured him of my fidelity and affection for him; and, after having partaken of a little meat and dhurra, i feigned sudden illness, and obtained permission to withdraw. hurrying home with all speed, i lit my little oil lamp, tore open the box with my knife, and there found a small piece of paper, on which the following words were written in french: babakr wad abu sebiba is a trustworthy man. (signed.) schaeffer, colonel. on the other side of the paper were a few lines from the austrian agency confirming this. the writers had wisely omitted my name, fearing that it might fall into the hands of enemies; and now i had to exercise more patience until the following evening. as agreed, i met babakr as before; and he briefly informed me that he had come to arrange my escape, and that, having seen me, he would return to berber to complete his preparations. as the emir zeki osman had been ordered to come to omdurman in july for the manoeuvres, he proposed to accompany him, in order to carry out his object. i assured him that i was ready at any time to make the attempt; and, after imploring him to do all in his power to help me, we parted. he returned, as arranged, in july with zeki osman; and, in a secret meeting, he told me that, in order to disarm suspicion, he had got married in berber; that he had brought four camels with him, but that he had not yet arranged about our crossing the river. should i, however, decide to risk flight, he would guide me through the bayuda desert and by el kaab (west of dongola) to wadi halfa; but i knew that the camels could not possibly perform such a journey in the height of summer. i soon saw that the man wanted to spend a few more months in the sudan, probably with his newly acquired bride; and so we agreed to postpone the attempt till the month of december, when the long nights would be more favourable to the enterprise. months passed; and i heard from secret sources that babakr was still at berber. december went by, and the year had begun. still no sign of my friend. at length he returned in july, and told me that the messenger whom i had despatched to cairo asking for £ had been delayed on the road; and that as he had arrived there at a time of year when the journey would have been impossible, the authorities had refused to supply him with the funds. he added, however, that he had brought two camels, and that if i would risk flight, he would try to procure a third. i saw that the man had been making inquiries, and had ascertained that at most it would only be possible for me to obtain a few hours' start, which would not be sufficient to insure success; besides he knew that it was out of the question starting in july. when, therefore, i proposed again postponing flight till the beginning of the winter, he readily acquiesced merely for form's sake. his constant visits to omdurman had aroused the khalifa's suspicions; and one of the kadis notified him that he must attend the mosque five times daily, and should not leave omdurman without the khalifa's permission. alarmed probably at the turn affairs had taken, he escaped and returned to egypt. three days after he had left, his absence was discovered. on his arrival in cairo, as i subsequently learnt, he informed those who had sent him that he had frequently come to omdurman; but that i had persistently refused to risk flight with him. baron heidler and major wingate, however, realised that the man's statement was untrue; and some time later i had an opportunity of informing them, through a trusty agent, of the man's behaviour. these gentlemen subsequently made an agreement with a merchant named musa wad abderrahman, promising him £ if he succeeded in effecting my escape, while at the same time he was furnished with what was necessary for the undertaking. in the winter i received information of this fresh enterprise; but it was not till june, , that one of musa's relatives, named ahmed, told me that some arabs had been secured who would arrive in a few days, and would attempt to fly with me. he also told me that a station had been prepared in the desert, where a change of camels would be in readiness, and that, in spite of the great heat, there was every prospect of the success of the undertaking. on st july, ahmed warned me that the camels had arrived, and that i should be ready to start the next night. that evening, i told my servants that one of my friends was dangerously ill, and that i had obtained the khalifa's permission to visit him, that i would probably stay the night, and that, therefore, they need not be uneasy if i did not return. that night, when my master had retired to rest, accompanied by ahmed, i quitted the mosque; and, with bare feet and armed only with a sword, we hurried along the road leading towards the parade ground, and then turned off in a northeasterly direction. the night was dark. during the day the first showers announcing the beginning of the rainy season had fallen; and, as we crossed the cemetery, i put my foot into an old grave, which had been washed out by the rain, and my foot got twisted in the bones of the skeleton on which i had stepped. it seemed as if the dead as well as the living were conspiring to throw difficulties in my path; but, in spite of the pain, i struggled on, and reached khor shambat. we crossed to the other side, where it was arranged the camels would await us. we searched up and down the banks. ahmed even called out in a low tone; but not a sign of them was to be seen. the night was cool; but our efforts had bathed us in perspiration, and, after wandering to and fro for hours, in our vain search, we were at length obliged to give up and retrace our steps. what could have happened to our men? could they have been noticed by some dervishes who had perhaps arrested them on suspicion? full of doubts and fears, we reached our homes in safety. i had parted from ahmed on the parade ground; and i had begged him to let me know in the evening what had happened. at the same time, i repeated that i was prepared to renew the attempt at any time. the dawn was just breaking as i reached the threshold of my hut, which i had quitted a few hours before, as i thought for the last time, and my feelings can be better imagined than described i had scarcely been back more than a few minutes, when one of my fellow mulazemin, named abdel kerim, arrived with a message from the khalifa to inquire the reason of my absence from morning prayers. i replied that i had been ill; and indeed my wretched appearance almost warranted such an assertion. in vain i waited that evening for news from ahmed; but i did not learn from him till two days afterwards, that the arabs had reconsidered the matter, and had come to the conclusion that the risk of recapture was too great, and had returned to their homes instead of coming to the place of rendezvous. so we had completely failed, and considered ourselves lucky to have returned unnoticed from our midnight ramble. again i informed my cairo friends of what had happened. they were unsparing in their efforts, and had now the valuable aid of father ohrwalder, who, when in vienna, had visited my family, and had obtained from them some ether pills, which are very strengthening on a journey, and ward off sleep. they had been prepared by professor ottokar chiari, and had reached me safely. they were in a small bottle which i had buried carefully in the ground. i now made a confidant of abderrahman wad harun, whom i despatched to cairo with a message to baron heidler to place at his disposal the requisite means for my escape. again an agreement was made between this merchant and the austrian agency, with the concurrence of major wingate, and the assistance of milhem shakkur bey and naum effendi shukeir of the intelligence department. if successful, abderrahman was to receive £ ; and he was also given the necessary outfit and £ in advance. meanwhile, major wingate, who had been despatched to suakin as acting governor, fearing another failure, made a similar agreement with a local arab named osheikh karrar, who, it was arranged, should attempt my rescue _via_ tokar or kassala. one day, a suakin merchant in omdurman handed me a small slip of paper, on which was written,-- we are sending you osheikh karrar, who will hand you some needles, by which you will recognise him. he is a faithful and brave man. you can trust him. kind regards from wingate. (signed.) ohrwalder. soon afterwards i heard from one of abderrahman wad harun's relatives that the latter had arrived at berber from cairo, and was making preparations for my escape; but in order to avoid being suspected, he had decided not to come to omdurman, and in this i fully concurred. the st of january, , had dawned. how many weary years of deprivation and humiliation i had spent in closest proximity to my tyrannical master! and would this year come and go like the rest, leaving me still in his clutches? no. i felt sure that the time was at length approaching when my friends would be able to break asunder the bonds which held me down, and that i should once more see my relatives, fatherland, and the friends of my youth. one evening, about the middle of january, a man i had never seen before passed me in the street, and made a sign to me to follow him; and as i brushed up against him, he whispered, "i am the man with the needles." joyfully i led him in the dark to a little niche in the outside wall of my hut, and begged him to tell me his plans quickly. he first presented me with three needles and a small slip of paper, and then, to my dismay, told me that at present flight was impossible. "i came," said he, "with the full intention of taking you to kassala; but now that military posts have been formed at el fasher, asubri, and goz regeb on the atbara, which are in constant communication with each other, flight in this direction is not possible." he added further that one of his camels had died, and that he had lost money, owing to bad trade; and, in consequence, he had not sufficient means to arrange for the escape. he therefore begged that i would give him a letter to major wingate, asking for a further sum of money, and promising to return again in two months. i felt sure that the man did not really mean to risk his life for me; and, as he informed me he wished to leave without delay, i told him to meet me the following evening at the mosque. we then separated; and i returned once more to my post at the khalifa's door. the note from suakin contained a few lines of recommendation from father ohrwalder, to which i wrote a reply, briefly describing what had taken place; and the next night when we met, i handed to osheikh the letter, which he hurriedly thrust into his pocket, hoping that it would be the means of obtaining more money. bitterly disappointed, i was returning disconsolately to my house, when i suddenly came across mohammed, the cousin of my friend abderrahman. as if by mere chance i found him walking at my side; and, in a whisper, he said to me, "we are ready. the camels are bought; the guides are engaged. the time arranged for your escape is during the moon's last quarter next month. be ready!" and without another word he left me. this time i felt convinced that i was not to be doomed to disappointment. towards the end of january, hussein wad mohammed, who had also been engaged by baron heidler and major wingate, arrived in omdurman, and secretly told me that he was ready to help me to escape. he begged me to let my friends in cairo know what i had decided to do, and said that one of his brothers, who was about to proceed to egypt, would be the bearer of the letter. as i was bound to abderrahman, i decided to wait and see if his efforts would succeed, and, should they fail, i decided i would try hussein; but i merely told the latter that at present i was not well enough to attempt so long a journey, and that at the end of february i would let him know definitely my decision. at the same time, i gave him a letter to my friends telling them that i intended to attempt escape with the assistance of abderrahman; and, in case of failure, from which i prayed the almighty to preserve me, i would seek the help of hussein. i was now in some alarm that, so many people being in the secret, the khalifa might suspect something. had he obtained the slightest clue to what was going on, i should have certainly paid for it with my life. on sunday, the th of february, mohammed, in a few hurried words, told me that the camels would arrive the next day, that they would rest two days, and that the attempt would be made on the night of the th. he said that on tuesday evening he would communicate with me by a sign by which i should know that everything was ready; and that i should then do all in my power to arrange that we should have as long a start as possible. at last tuesday night arrived, and i found mohammed waiting for me at the door of the mosque. in a hurried whisper he told me that all was ready; and, after arranging a rendezvous for the following night, when the khalifa had retired to rest, we separated. i confess that i passed the greater part of that night in a state of fevered excitement. would this attempt also fail like the others? would some unforeseen event frustrate this effort too? these thoughts kept me awake and restless; and it was not till towards morning that sleep, which was so necessary to keep up my strength during the journey, came at length, and i had two or three hours of sound repose. the next morning, when before the khalifa's door, i feigned sickness, and asked the chief of the mulazemin for permission to absent myself from morning prayers, as i proposed taking a dose of senna tea and tamarind, and remaining quietly at home the following day. the necessary permission was accorded, and abdel kerim promised to make my excuses to the khalifa should he inquire for me. i felt sure that my master, when he knew that i was not present, would, under the pretext of solicitude for my health, send to my house to see if i was really there; but i could think of no other way of accounting for my absence. before sunset, i assembled my servants, and, after making them promise to keep secret what i was about to say, i told them that the brother of the man who had brought me letters, money, and watches from my relatives seven years before, had arrived with a further consignment, and that, as he had come entirely without the khalifa's knowledge, i had decided to keep his arrival secret. i told them that i intended visiting him that night, as i wished to arrange with him without delay, and let him return at once. my good domestics, of course, believed the story implicitly; and i knew the thought that they would share some of the good things which were supposed to have come, would make them keep the secret. in continuation of my imaginary scheme, i ordered my servant ahmed to meet me the next day at sunrise at the north end of the city, near the fur quarter, with my mule. i told him not to be impatient if i happened to be late, as the business in hand was important, and might take some time to arrange; but that on no account was he to leave the rendezvous, as i intended to give him the money i received to take home. i impressed upon the others the necessity of maintaining perfect silence, as i ran a great risk of being discovered. should any of the mulazemin ask for me, i told them to reply that i had been very unwell during the night, and had ridden off, accompanied by my servant ahmed, to seek advice of some man whose whereabouts they did not know, but that they supposed he was some one who could cure illness. to make my story appear more real, i gave my servants to understand that i should receive a considerable sum of money the next day, and, in anticipation, i presented them with several dollars apiece. my object in making these arrangements was to secure a few hours' delay before the hue and cry that i had escaped should be raised. my servant ahmed would probably wait for some hours with the mule, while those in the household would anxiously expect my return with the money. i naturally concluded that, should the khalifa send to inquire for me, the reply which my servants were to give, would avert suspicion for a time; and then it would take more time for them to find ahmed, and his story of the arrival of the supposed messenger would still further perplex them. of course they must eventually find out the deception; but to me every moment's delay in sending out search parties was of the utmost importance. after afternoon prayers, i once more returned to my house, again impressed on all my servants the immense importance of keeping the secret, and with repeated promises of reward, i stepped across the threshold, praying fervently to god that i might never set foot within my hut again. chapter xix. my flight. i escape from the town by night--my guides zeki belal and mohammed--a scare-- miles in hours--our camels break down--hiding in the gilif mountains--precautions against surprise--arrival of fresh camels--our journey to the nile--the crossing--friendly sheikhs--narrow escape from a large armed party of mahdists--difficulties with my guides--hamed garhosh the amrabi--out of danger--assuan at last--congratulations and welcome--arrival in cairo--meeting with old friends. it was three hours after sunset. we had offered the evening prayer with the khalifa, and he had withdrawn to his apartment. another hour passed without interruption. my lord and master had retired to rest. i rose, took the farwa (the rug on which we pray) and the farda (a light woollen cloth for protection against the cold) on my shoulders, and went across the mosque to the road that leads north. i heard a low cough, the signal of mohammed, the intermediary in my escape, and i stood still. he had brought a donkey. i mounted, and was off. the night was dark. the cold, northerly wind had driven the people into their huts and houses. without meeting a soul we reached the end of the town where a small ruined house stands obliquely to the road, from which a man led out a saddled camel. "this is your guide. his name is zeki belal," said mohammed. "he will guide you to the riding camels that are waiting concealed in the desert. make haste. a happy journey, and god protect you." the man sprang into the saddle, and i got up and sat behind him. after about an hour's ride, we arrived at the spot where the camels were hidden among some low trees. all was ready, and i mounted the animal assigned to me. "zeki," said i, "did mohammed give you the medicine?" "no; what medicine?" "they call them ether pills. they keep off sleep and strengthen you on the journey." he laughed. "sleep!" said he. "have no fear on that account. fear is the child of good folk, and will keep sleep from our eyes, and god in his mercy will fortify us." the man was right enough. we rode in a northerly direction. the halfa grass and the mimosa-trees, which in places grew rather close together, prevented the camels from making rapid progress in the darkness. at sunrise we reached wadi bishara, a valley extending here to a breadth of about three miles, which is sown in the rainy season with millet by the jaalin tribes who live along the nile. with daylight i was now able to see my guides. zeki belal was a young fellow, with his beard still downy; hamed ibn hussein, a man in the prime of life. "of what race are you?" "we are from the gilif mountains, master; and if god will, you will be satisfied with us." "how long a start have we got from our enemies? when will they miss you?" the elder one asked me. "they will look for me after the morning prayer; but before all doubt is over as to my escape, and before the men and the beasts are found with which to pursue me, some time must elapse. we may at least reckon on twelve or fourteen hours' start." "that is not very much," answered hamed. "but if the animals are up to their work, we shall have left a good bit of ground behind us." "don't you know our animals? have they not been tried?" i asked. "no. two of them are stallions of the anafi breed, and the third a bisharin mare, bought expressly for your flight from friends," was the answer. "we must hope the best of them." [illustration: slatin pasha flying from omdurman.] we drove the creatures at their swiftest pace. the country in these parts was flat, broken now and then by solitary shrubs, with here and there small stony hillocks. we rode without stopping until near midday, when suddenly my guide called out,-- "halt! let the camels kneel down at once. be quick!" i stopped. the camels knelt. "why?" "i see camels a long way off and two led horses, and fear we have been seen." i loaded my remington to be prepared for any issue. "but if we have been seen," i said, "it is better to ride quietly on. our making the animals lie down will excite their suspicion. in what direction are they going?" "you are right," said hamed ibn hussein. "they are marching northwest." we rose and changed our line of march to the northeast, and were almost confident that we had passed unobserved when, to our despair, we perceived one of the party, which was about two thousand metres away from us, jump on his horse and gallop swiftly towards us. "hamed," said i, "i will go slowly on with zeki. do you stop the man, and answer his questions, and in any case prevent him from seeing me close. you have the money on you?" "good; but march slowly!" i rode on quietly with zeki, hiding my face with my farda, so as not to be recognised as a white man. "hamed is greeting the man, and has made his camel kneel," said zeki, looking back. after about twenty minutes, we saw the man remount his horse, and hamed urging his camel on to rejoin us. "you must thank god for our safety," he cried, as he came up. "the man is a friend of mine, mukhal, a sheikh, on his way to dongola with camels to bring dates to omdurman. he asked me where i was going with the 'white egyptian.' the man has the eyes of a hawk." "and what did you answer?" "i adjured him as my friend to keep our secret, and gave him twenty maria theresa dollars. we arabs are all a little avaricious. the man swore a sacred oath to me to hold his tongue if he happened to fall in with our pursuers; and his people are too far off to tell black from white. urge the camels on; we have lost time." at sunset, we passed the hills of hobegi, and camped nearly an hour later in the open country about a day's journey west of the nile, so as to give our exhausted animals some rest. we had been riding twenty-one hours without stopping, had eaten nothing all day, and only once drunk water. in spite of fatigue we ate bread and dates with a good appetite. "we will feed our beasts and then get on," said my guide. "you are not tired?" "no," i replied. "in europe we say time is money. here one might say time is life. make haste." but to our despair the beasts refused the food which was placed before them. hamed made a little fire, took a piece of burning wood and a little resin, which he laid on the wood, then walked round the camels muttering some words which i could not understand. "what are you doing?" i asked him, with some surprise. "i fear the fikis of the khalifa have bewitched our camels, and am trying the arab's antidote." "for my part," i replied, "i fear that they are second-rate market camels, or are sick. let us give them a little more rest. perhaps they will pick up." as, after another half-hour's rest, the beasts still refused food, and longer delay was out of the question, we tightened up the saddle-girths again and mounted. the tired animals refused to trot, would only walk at a good pace, and as the sun rose we found ourselves on the high ground to the northwest of metemmeh. the diminishing strength of our mounts filled us with anxiety, and it became clear to us that they would never hold out till the spot, about a day's journey north of berber, on the edge of the desert, where we were to change camels. towards afternoon, we let the exhausted animals rest in the shade of a tree, and agreed to make for the gilif range, distant a good day's journey to the northwest, where i should remain concealed in the uninhabited hills until my guides could succeed in securing other mounts. about sunset we struck camp. the animals had so far recovered that they could walk at a good pace, and we reached, in the early morning, the foot of the gilif mountain, which at this spot is quite uninhabited. we dismounted, driving our camels before us after an extremely difficult march of about three hours in a valley hemmed in by sheer rocks. my guides, zeki ibn belal, as well as hamed ibn hussein, both belong to the kababish tribe. the gilif mountain is their own country; and they were familiar with every path. we unsaddled the camels, and concealed the saddles among the boulders. "we have come into our own country; and she will protect her son," said hamed hussein. "have no fear; as long as we live you need have no misgiving. remain quietly concealed here. a little way off there is a cleft in the rocks containing water. i will water the animals there. zeki will bring you a water-skin full. i will also hide the beasts elsewhere, that our halting-place may not be betrayed by the vultures circling above. wait for me here; and we will see what our next step must be." i was alone and somewhat depressed. i had hoped to make a straight dash for the egyptian frontier, and to out-distance my pursuers by speed; and now a crowd of unexpected obstacles was gathering round me. about two hours later, zeki arrived with the water-skin on his shoulders. "taste the water of my native land," he cried. "see how fresh and pure it is. take confidence. god, if he will, will bring our enterprise to a happy end." i drank a deep draught. it was delicious indeed. "i am full of confidence," i said to zeki; "but a little put out by the delay." "malaish kullu shai bi iradet illahi (it matters not. all happens as god ordains), and perhaps this delay has its good side too. let us wait for hamed hussein." soon after midday hamed came. we ate our frugal meal of bread and dates, and while doing so arranged that zeki should ride to the friends who were privy to my escape, a brief two days' journey, and fetch new animals. "i will ride the bisharin mare," said zeki. "she is strong, and has not yet got to the end of her tether. this is saturday evening. i shall ride all night and to-morrow, sunday. monday morning early, please god, i shall reach our friends. we must allow one to two days there; because, it may be, no animals will be ready. but, thursday or friday, i should get here with fresh camels if no misfortune happens to me." "it is better to put it a little later," i answered. "we will wait for you here till saturday. if you arrive sooner, all the better; but remember that our life is in your hand. above all, be cautious in bringing the animals, that you arouse no suspicion." "trust in our good fortune and my good-will," and he grasped my hand in farewell. "god protect you, and bring you back right soon." he tied a few dates up in a cloth as provision for the journey, and took the saddle on his shoulders. hamed described the spot accurately to him where he would find the mare. as he turned, he enjoined us to be careful not to be seen; and in a few moments he was lost to sight. we cleared the ground which was to serve as our night's resting-place, of stones, and were in the best of spirits as to our success. "i have a proposal to make to you," said hamed to me after a long interval. "a relation of mine, ibrahim masa, is sheikh of this district, and has his house at the foot of the hill, about four hours' distance from here. now though, as i hope, no one has seen us, still it would be better to warn him of our arrival, so that he may be prepared for any eventuality. i will describe our situation to him without mentioning your name. as my kinsman, he is bound to give us asylum, and would warn us in time of pursuit, if it should be that our track is followed to the base of the hills, though indeed this is scarcely to be feared. if you agree, i will go during the night, so as to see him without being observed by other people, and will be back with you early in the morning." "the plan is good; but take twenty more dollars with you, and offer them as a small contribution to his house, and, as you have said, do not mention my name." hamed left me at sunset; and i was alone with my thoughts. i thought of my housefolk and companions, to whom, in spite of the difference of race and of many unattractive qualities, i had grown accustomed in the long course of years, and whom i had just left behind me in the hands of the enemy. i thought of the dear ones i was now on my way to meet, of my sisters, my friends and well-wishers. if only my adventures have a successful issue! exhausted with fatigue, i fell asleep on my hard bed. i woke while the dawn was gray, and shortly afterwards heard the sound of approaching footsteps. i knew it must be my guide. "all goes well," said he as he came up. "the sheikh, my kinsman, greets his unknown guest, and bids god protect you. fortify yourself with patience. for the present, we have nothing else to do." he sat down between two blocks of stone, from which his dark skin was hardly distinguishable, and kept watch. i sat a short distance below in the shade of a little tree which struggled for existence among the rocks; and we talked in low tones of the present and the former condition of the country. it was past midday when i suddenly heard behind the noise of footsteps, and, turning round, i saw, to my disgust, a man about one hundred and fifty yards off, climbing the slope opposite me, trying to draw the end of his farda, which was twisted round his loins, over his head. judging from the direction he had come from, he must have seen us. "in any case it is a fellow-countryman," said hamed, who had heard the sound, and had perceived him. "anyhow it will be better that i should overtake him and speak with him. or do you not agree?" "certainly, make haste, and if necessary, give him a small present," i answered. my companion left his seat, and followed the man at a swift pace. he had now reached the crest of the hill and passed out of my sight. a few minutes later, i saw them both approaching me with smiling faces. "we are in luck," hamed cried from a distance. "he is one of my numerous relations. our mothers are children of two sisters." the man came up to me and offered his hand in greeting. "the peace of god be with you. from me you run no danger," he said as he sat down on the stone at my side. i gave him a few dates, and bade him taste our travelling fare. "who are you?" "they call me ali wad feid," he replied; "and, to be honest with you, my intentions were not well disposed to you. i was changing my pasture ground, and arrived a few days ago with my flocks at the foot of those hills which you see from here to the south. i went to the cleft in the rocks to see if there were much water there, because we might need it, although we also get drinking-water in the plain. there i found traces of a camel, and followed them up. when, in the distance, i saw the white skin of your feet which were sticking out of your hiding-place, i realised that a stranger was concealed here, and tried to get away again unobserved, so that," said he, smiling, "i might return again with a few comrades by night, and make your further journey easier by removing your superfluous luggage. i thank god that my cousin here caught me up. by night i should not, perhaps, have recognised him." [illustration: slatin in hiding in the hills.] "ali wad feid," said my guide, who had listened in silence, "i will tell you a little story. listen! many years ago, when i was a little fellow, in the days when the turks ruled in the land, my father was sheikh of these mountains, which then were thickly peopled. one night there came a man, a fugitive, who sought asylum with my father. he was closely pursued by government troops, under suspicion of being a highway brigand who had murdered some merchants. his women fell into the hands of his pursuers; but he himself sought and found protection with my father, who kept him in concealment. a long while after, my father went to the seat of government at berber, and by money and fair words succeeded in obtaining pardon for the man, against whom there existed no definite proofs of guilt. he went bail for him, and set free his women, who were in prison. that man's name was feid --" "and he was my father," interrupted ali, whose face had grown grave during his narrative. "i was born later, and heard the story from my dead mother, on whom god have mercy. my brother, let me give you good tidings. what your father did for mine, his son will do for your father's son. in peace or in peril i am with you. but, follow me, and i will show you a better hiding-place." we went some two thousand yards back round the hill towards the south, and reached a sort of little grotto formed of rock slabs, large enough to hold two men. "when evening comes bring your baggage here, although there is nothing to fear, since the hills are uninhabited; but under the cover of darkness you can choose some other spot in the neighbourhood to sleep in. it is impossible to be quite sure that some one may not have perceived you, and have the intention which i confessed to have had, of returning after dark. i have lost time, and my road is a long one. i will go, pick up what news i can, and return to-morrow when it is dark, announcing my presence by a low whistle. farewell till then!" as ali wad feid had advised us, we selected a place to sleep in, and early in the morning, before the sun rose, retired again to our cave. throughout the day hamed hussein kept watch from a high point of vantage, like a sentry on a tower, and only came to me when driven in by hunger. our bread came to an end this day, and we had only dates to eat. in the evening, two hours maybe after sunset, we heard a low whistle. it was ali wad feid, who, faithful to his promise, had come to visit us. he brought some milk in a small vessel of gazelle-skin (the skin of young gazelles is tanned by the arabs, and now much used for carrying milk in), and had rolled up some bread (millet cakes) in his farda. "i pretended to my wife that i was going to visit the caravan folk, and show them hospitality," he said, after greeting us. "i cannot trust her with the truth, she is such a chatterbox." "a feminine quality which many married men complain about in our country at home," i remarked with a smile, delighted at the prospect of such a grateful meal. "i made inquiries at the well," he continued, "and heard of nothing to cause you uneasiness. eat and drink your fill. i have every confidence in your good luck." after we had done honour to his good fare, i begged him to return so as not to awake suspicion with his own folk by remaining out unduly long, and whispered to hamed to give him a present of five dollars before he went. "do not return," i said to him in taking leave. "your comings and goings may excite suspicion among your people, and your footsteps may perhaps leave traces on the ground which would betray our hiding-place to others, unless, of course, you hear any really disquieting news. farewell. i thank you for your loyal friendship." hamed hussein accompanied his kinsman some little way. "ali would not take the money," he said, when he returned. "i had to press him very hard; and it was only the fear of offending you which induced him at last to accept it." we once more selected our couches, and rested undisturbed till the morning, when we returned to the cave, or rather i did, for my companion had to go back to his post as watchman. this day went by equally without event, but how slowly the time seemed to pass! the hours grew to days, and thoughts succeeded thoughts in weary sequence. my patience was severely tried, but there was no help for it, and nothing to do but to bear it. as our water supply threatened to fall short, hamed hussein went with the skin to the cleft in the rocks. at the same time, he intended to look up the camels, which had been hobbled, and were getting what food they could from trees and bushes. "i shall return in about four hours. meanwhile, remain quiet in the cave," he said to me, "and should any one appear,--which god forbid!--it could only be one of my own countrymen, for no stranger gets so far as this, detain him, and tell him that hamed wad sheikh hussein is coming in a little while. but do not yourself enter into any negotiation, and above all do not spill blood." "i will follow your counsel whatever happens," i replied; "but i trust you will find me here undisturbed when you return." my guide returned with the water-skin full even before the time he had indicated. "i found the camels somewhat recovered, at any rate in appearance," he said, with evident satisfaction. "give me a few dates. i am hungry, and must return to my watch tower." the rest of the day passed slowly, but without episode. at night we betook ourselves to our sleeping-place, talked for a while in a low voice, and prayed that our patience might not be put to too hard a trial. on thursday morning, hamed had gone as usual to his post of observation; and it must have been about midday when i suddenly saw him climb down from his seat i clutched my rifle. "what is the matter?" "i see a man running in the direction of our former hiding-place. it must mean news. remain here till i come back." i sat down and waited for what seemed an eternity. then i rose with caution to have a look out, and saw, a long way off, two people approaching me. my eyes could make out hamed, and with him was zeki belal. as i stepped from my hiding-place, he perceived me, and ran up. "god give you greeting, master. here is good news for you," said he, shaking my hand. "i have arrived with two fresh camels, and have hidden them some way behind. i will be off and fetch them." and he hurried back again. about an hour later, he arrived with the new animals. "you have been quick," i cried with delight. "now tell your story." "it was saturday evening when i left you," he replied. "i rode all night and all day. my bisharin mare went splendidly over the ground, which was tolerably level, and on monday morning i reached our friends. they sent immediately for the beasts you now see, which were at a considerable distance. they came in early on tuesday. i started at midday. i rode slowly so as not to wear them out, and now we can start at once. and, oh, i had almost forgotten to tell you that your friends, after discussing it with me, went off to the camp on the edge of the desert, to warn their people there to be ready. i promised we would reach the tryst on friday, or at latest on saturday after sunset." "did you bring bread?" i asked the youth, who was talking away in high spirits. "we have got nothing but dates to eat." "good heavens! i forgot that in my haste." "no matter," i replied, seeing him look rather crestfallen. "even without dates we could hold out for this short ride." "zeki," said hamed, "saddle the light-coloured camel, go with our friend and brother to the hollow rock, and give the camels water. wait for me there. i will take the other saddle and follow with my own camel, which has recovered sufficiently to stand this comparatively short march. but it will be better," he added, turning to me, "that you should not go right up to the spring, but remain hidden in some suitable spot near till we fetch you. one never can be too sure. there are so many thirsty folk in the wide world." i went with zeki, leading one of the camels, towards the cleft where the water was, and hid myself in a place my guide suggested, among the boulders of rock. about two hours before sunset, hamed and zeki came with the three camels that had just been watered, and the skins all filled. we mounted and rode east northeast across hills, which at times were very steep to climb, till, as darkness gathered round us, we arrived in the plain without having been observed. throughout the night, we rode without a halt at a slow trot or a walk, and at daybreak hamed calculated we had left half the road behind us. "this is the most critical day of our journey," said my guide. "we come into the neighbourhood of the river, and cross pasture grounds of the river tribes. god grant we reach our destination unobserved." the aspect of the country does not change. the veldt, as one may call it, is covered with a thin mat of grass, with here and there clumps of half-dried mimosa bushes. the ground is sandy, and at times covered with stones. we rode on without stopping, and ate our frugal meal, which consisted of nothing but dates, as we rode. when the sun was at the zenith, we saw in the distance a flock of sheep with its shepherds. we turned a little aside from our straight course, and zeki rode off to them to ask for news; but when he rejoined us he said he had learned nothing of interest. though we came upon constant tracks of camels, donkeys, sheep, eta, in the soil, our eyes detected nothing which caused us concern, and the country had become quite flat again. "do you see the broad, gray band in front crossing from south to northwest?" hamed asked me. "that is the great caravan track which leads from berber to wadi gammer and dar shaigia. if we pass that without being seen, we have nothing more to fear, for between this and the river there is only stony ground, without a vestige of vegetation, and quite uninhabited. but now you must follow my directions closely. let the camels advance at a slow pace, and each some five hundred paces from the next till we reach the big track. when we get there we will turn into the road and proceed for a few minutes in the direction of berber. then we will leave it again, and march in an easterly direction. do you see that stone hillock about three miles away? there we will join again. this is the only way to put any one who may be pursuing us off our track." we did as he had instructed us, crossed the caravan road, which is at most times tolerably frequented, without seeing a trace of any one, and met again at the spot indicated. "and now urge the animals on. don't spare them. let them do us their last service," said hamed, with a merry laugh. "all has gone well." since i left omdurman i had not seen a laugh upon his face, and i knew that on this side of the river we had nothing more to fear. so on we went, driving the weary camels forward with the stick without much mercy, till, leaving a range of hills on our right, we reached the kerraba. the kerraba is a plateau with a sandy soil. the surface is covered with black stones, ranging from the size of a man's fist to that of his head, packed closely together. single blocks of rock are seen at a certain distance one from another. the animals could scarcely make any progress over the rolling level. it was a break-neck march. towards evening, we saw the nile in the far, far distance, like a silver streak across the landscape. climbing down from the plateau in the darkness we reached a valley lying between stony hills. we halted and took the saddles off. the river was about two hours' march away. "our mission is near its end," said hamed and zeki, as they sat on the ground munching dates. "stay here with the animals. we will go to a spot we know near the river; and there we shall find your friends, who will escort you on." i was left alone, looking forward in the highest spirits to the future. already in imagination i saw my own people, saw my fatherland. i awoke after midnight. no one had come, and i began to feel somewhat concerned at the delay, for if they did not soon return i could not cross the river that night. it was not till some two hours before dawn that i heard footsteps. it was hamed. "what news?" i asked impatiently. "none!" was the despairing answer. "we could not find your friends at the place indicated. i returned because you cannot remain here after daybreak. you are too near human habitations, and exposed to the risk of being seen. i left zeki behind to look for your people. take the water-skin on your shoulders and some dates. i am too exhausted to carry anything. we must go back on to the kerraba. there you must stay till the day is over, hidden among the stones." i did as i was bidden, and reached the plateau in about an hour. after we had marched a little further in the darkness, hamed stood still. "stop here," he said. "make a ring of stones as camel-herds do in winter to protect themselves from the cold, and lie down between them. you know how to do it. you are just as much an arab as one of us. in the evening, i will come again to fetch you. i go back to the camels. the people of these parts know me, and i have nothing to fear. if they ask me any questions i shall say i have come from dar shaigia to look up some people who are settled here. luckily, i have some relations here also." he went back. i stood upon the rolling plain alone--abandoned. i piled the stones on top of one another to a height of about half a metre, leaving just room enough between for myself, my water-skin, and my gun. morning began to grow gray, and i crept into my hiding-place. the ground beneath was sandy. i dug it up with a flat, pointed stone, and heaped up sufficient between the piles of slabs to prevent my being seen from without. i flung myself on my back in weariness, and stretched out my limbs. again reflection came and thoughts thronged past. i looked back again to the past, and pictured to myself the khalifa's anger at my flight. my imagination sped once more towards my dear ones. i longed to be united to them again, and, unanticipated, almost insuperable obstacles seemed to be springing up round me. what change has come over me? where is my motto of "never despair?" however desperate the circumstances in which i may have found myself, i have never lost courage, never abandoned confidence in my ultimate good fortune. to-day a sense of fear is pressing on me. perhaps it is that i am already lying in what will be my grave. but that is, after all, the end of every man. be his days long or short, he can go no other way. and yet to die in a strange land forsaken! god, up there in heaven, have mercy on me, have mercy on a miserable man who, if he has sinned, has surely bitterly atoned for his transgressions. god have mercy on me! let me see my friends and dear ones, my fatherland again! then i grew calm once more. after all, i thought, in spite of a few little delays, affairs are not so bad. to-night, i shall cross the river. to-morrow, i reach the desert. in two or three days, i shall be beyond the reach of danger, and fly towards those i crave to see. i smiled once more, and grew full of confidence and hope. the sun was burning hot. i had brought my farda, and held it up over me to keep my face in the shade, waiting in patience for what would follow. a little after midday, i heard a low whistle, and raised myself to look out over the stones. it was hamed, who approached me smiling. "good news," he cried. "we have found your people." a sense of joy possessed me as i caught his words, and my lucky star was once more in the ascendant. when he came up to me, he sat down outside the stones. "you may make yourself more comfortable," he said. "i have kept a good lookout all round. you have nothing to fear. zeki found your people before daybreak, and just now one of them came over to us to find out where we were. they are ready. in the evening, they will come to fetch you. but you will have to take great care, for your flight is known in this part of the country. come with me now, or, better still, wait till darkness comes on. i am going now. can you find the way alone, or shall i come back for you?" "it is not necessary for you to go over the ground again. i know the place, and will join you in the evening." the sun had disappeared from the horizon when, with gun and water-skin slung upon my back, i left the spot which had cost me such bitter hours of reflection. when i reached my companions, i found myself in the presence of two men who were strangers to me. they greeted me, saying, "we are sent by your friend ahmed wad abdalla, and are of the gihemab tribe. we will take you down to the river. he himself will cross the stream with you. on the other side, the camels are waiting ready to take you across the desert. take leave of your guides. their task is done." i shook my old friends by the hand, and thanked them with words which came from the heart for their devotion. "farewell, and may we meet again in better times of peace." we saddled two camels and left the third to my former guides. i mounted, and one of the new-comers got up behind me. "what is your name?" i asked him. "they call me mohammed, sir, and my companion's name is ishaak." "do you go with me across the desert?" "no, there are others told off for that. let the camel walk slowly; and it will be better to cover your face in spite of the darkness. orders came from berber three days ago to have all the roads closely watched; and the ferries have been put under observation. still, in our country, you have nothing to fear." after proceeding for about two hours in an east northeast direction, we approached the river. we could hear the groaning of the water-wheel, the cries and laughter of the slaves and their women at work. as we came up to a small clump of bushes, mohammed, who was riding behind me, sprang down and said, "make the camel kneel down, slowly--gently, that he may not grunt, and so attract attention." they knelt down without a sound. bidding me remain there till they returned with ahmed, they disappeared into the darkness. i waited about an hour, and then saw four men approaching. the tallest of them came up and embraced me. pressing me to his breast, he said in a low voice,-- "god be praised. welcome to the land of my fathers. i am your brother ahmed ibn abdalla, of the tribe of gihemab. believe my words, you are saved. mohammed, ishaak, take the saddles off the camels quietly. make no noise. ride a good way on along the stream. blow the water-skins full of air, and tie them round the camels' necks. then cross the river at different spots, and to-morrow await my orders near the stones of the 'fighting bull.' meantime, do you follow me," he said, turning to me. he himself, with the fourth man, took the saddles on their backs, and i followed. a few minutes later, we reached the shore of the sacred nile, and found, in a little hollow washed out by the current, a tiny boat constructed by my friends themselves, scarcely large enough to hold us. we climbed down the steep bank, got into the boat, and pushed off. it took us more than an hour to cross the stream. when we reached the far side, the other man, who had remained in the little boat, guided it back into the river, and bored a hole in the bottom, swimming to the land while the boat sank in the stream, and with it disappeared all traces of our crossing. we marched for about half an hour, and then ahmed abdalla bade me wait there while he went away, to return soon after with a dish of milk and bread. "eat and drink," said he, "and have no more fears as to the success of your flight, for i swear to you by god and the prophet you are saved. i had intended that you should start to-night; but the hour is already too late. it will be better that you should wait till to-morrow evening. besides, to-morrow is the day when your camels should be watered. as we are here too near to human habitations, my nephew, ibrahim ali, will conduct you to a place some distance off which is difficult of access. wait for me there. i will bring you an animal to ride, or do you feel strong enough to go on foot?" "i am strong, and can walk," i replied. "where is ibrahim ali?" "he is here; and he will be your guide through the desert." it was a black night. ibrahim went first with an empty water-skin in his hand along the caravan track leading beside the river to abu hamed, and i followed. after proceeding about three english miles, he went down to the river, filled the skin half full, and then changed the direction, turning inland. the march was very difficult. the big stones with which the hills were covered hindered one's progress. i was dead beat, and staggered about to right and left like a drunken man. at last we halted by a hollow in the ground. "this is the spot which my uncle indicated," said ibrahim, who had kept silence up till now. "remain quietly here without misgiving. to-morrow evening, i shall bring the camels, and we will start. here is water and bread. i will return now to make my preparations." once more i was alone. once more i was exposed for a long day to the scorching sun; but now it was easy for me to bear, for i was near to the goal i had longed for so wildly. at last the sun disappeared from the horizon; and, after waiting about an hour more, i heard the sound of hoofs moving quickly over the stones. i rose, and recognised ahmed abdalla, accompanied by two men on donkeys. springing off in haste, he pressed me warmly to his breast. "god be thanked that you are safe! these two men," pointing to his companions, "are my brothers, and have come with me to wish you luck." i pressed their hands in greeting, and, turning to ahmed, said, "but i do not understand you--your tremendous spirits--" "of course not," he replied, "for you do not know the great danger you have escaped. listen! three days ago, the emir of berber, zeki osman, learned, we know not how, that the egyptian garrison at murrat had received important reinforcements, and intended to attack the mahdist station at abu hamed. zeki osman is sending reinforcements, and to-day at noon sixty horsemen and about three hundred foot soldiers passed our dwellings. you know these wild bands who call themselves ansar [defenders of the faith]. we had killed a sheep, and were busy preparing a portion for you to take with you on the road, when they suddenly came upon us by surprise. they consumed what was intended for your provision, and then scattered in search of loot. we were in terrible anxiety on your account, fearing one of these wild fellows might find his way to your hiding-place. now they have marched on. the curse of god go with them! thanks be to him, who has protected you!" and i also humbly thanked my creator, who had saved me from this great and unexpected danger. as i learned later, the commander-in-chief of the egyptian army, general kitchener pasha, had come to wadi haifa to conduct the usual manoeuvres. captain machell bey marched with the twelfth sudanese battalion and two hundred of the camel corps from wadi haifa to korosko by murrat, and this accounted for the rumour of a strengthening of the garrison at murrat, and the contemplated attack on abu hamed. "the camels will be a little late," said ahmed, continuing. "i sent them hastily away into the interior when the dervishes came in, for fear they might press them into service to carry their ammunition or other baggage. if, however, you feel inclined to rest in patience till to-morrow, we should be able to procure fresh provisions." "no. i want at all hazards to start at once, and want of provisions will not alter my resolve," i replied. "i trust the camels will come soon." it was towards midnight when they brought in the three animals. ahmed abdalla presented my two guides to me. "ibrahim ali, the son of my brother, and yakub hassan, also a near relative of mine. they will conduct you to sheikh hamed fedai, the head of the amrab arabs, who are subject to the egyptian government. he will assist you in getting on to assuan." we filled the water-skins and took our leave. "forgive the failure of provision for your journey," said ahmed ibn abdalla. "it is not my fault. you have meal and dates, enough to keep hunger off, though there are no luxuries." we rode three hours and a half east northeast before the sun rose, and as the dawn grew gray found ourselves east of wadi el homar (the vale of asses), which, though called after the wild asses which inhabit it, is in a great measure devoid of vegetation. as we proceeded, the country assumed the genuine characteristics of the desert,--wide stretches of sand, with here and there, at long intervals, ridges of hills, but never a tree or trace of grass. after riding for two days, almost without a halt, we reached the hills of nuranai, formerly occupied by the bisharin arabs. the valley, running in a northeasterly direction for the most part, between ridges with very steep walls, grows mimosa-trees along either side, and in one lateral valley are trees which take their name from the hills. ibrahim ali got off and took an observation from the heights, and, finding that the valley was quite unoccupied, we entered it, hastily watered our camels, and partially filled our water-skins. the well lies in a hollow some twenty-five yards across, and some eighteen feet deep, dug out with a sharp decline towards the centre. down this sloping plane there are slabs of rock and stones, serving as steps, by which one descends to the water-hole in the middle. as wells are always places where people are apt to collect, we left the spot and rested in the plain, after crossing the hills of nuranai in about three hours. there was a great difference between my former and my present guides. the first were brave, devoted fellows, ready even to sacrifice their lives for me, whereas these new ones were just the contrary. they grumbled at the service which it seems their relative ahmed abdalla had forced upon them, and were forever complaining of want of sleep and hunger, and at the danger of the enterprise, the reward for which would go to others. through their carelessness they had dropped my sandals and tinder-box on the road; and the loss of the former was destined to cause me much trouble later on. the next day, a thursday, we reached the groves of abu hamed an hour before noon, and though the tribes who at present live in these parts are hostile to the mahdists, i preferred to remain hidden. ibrahim ali and yakub hassan had been ordered by ahmed abdalla to guide me to sheikh hamed fadai; but this did not suit their views. they came to me in the afternoon and represented to me the risk they would incur if their people missed them for many days. since it was certain everything would come to the khalifa's ears which was calculated to throw light on the question of who had helped me in my flight, and since their tribe was already under suspicion of being friendly to the egyptian government, there was danger not only for them but also for my friend ahmed abdalla. in conclusion, they begged to be allowed to go and look for a man who was well known to them both, and living in these parts, who would conduct me further. i saw that their reluctance would prove of more harm than service to me as i proceeded further, and agreed to their proposal, almost with alacrity, so distasteful had both my guides become to me, and bade them settle the matter as quickly as possible according to the best of their powers. it was not yet sunset when they brought back the man in question. he was an amrab arab named hamed garhosh, and considerably the wrong side of fifty in years. "every man looks to his own advantage and profit," he said curtly to me after the greeting. "your guides, whom i know well, wish me to show you the way from here to assuan. i am ready to do so, but what shall i earn by the job?" "on the day of my arrival, i will pay you there one hundred and twenty maria theresa dollars, and in addition a present, which i shall calculate according to the manner in which your duties are accomplished." "i accept," said he, giving me his hand. "god and the prophet are my witnesses, that i trust you. i know your race. a white man does not lie. i will bring you to your own folk, across untrodden mountain ways, known only to the fowls of the air. be ready. after the sun is down we start." i selected the strongest of the three camels for the remainder of my journey, took two water-skins, the greater part of the dates, and a portion of dhurra for my provision. as the darkness closed in hamed garhosh arrived. his son had gone away on the only camel which he possessed, to the country of robatab near the river, to fetch grain, and he was therefore obliged to perform his functions as guide on foot. since the road was most of it mountainous, however, and the camel could only go at a foot's pace, he would not be any the worse off on that account. it was merely a question of good-will and stout legs. i took leave of ibrahim and yakub with few words; and, there was no doubt about it, we were mutually glad to part company. after a march of more than two days, crossing for the most part bare ridges and stony hills, we reached, on sunday morning, a small well, nearly dried up, called "shof el ain;" and though presumably it was not likely to be visited by any one, i waited for my guide, as he desired, at a spot an hour's distance from it. our food consisted of dates and bread which we baked ourselves. that is to say, an apology for bread, for i am convinced, though my guide prided himself particularly on his talent, that the stuff which he produced would give our european bakers a proper sense of disgust, both on account of its appearance and its taste. to prepare it, my guide piled together a lot of stones about the size of pigeon's eggs, and laid dry wood on top of them. then he kneaded dhurra mixed with water in a wooden vessel, and lighted his pile of fuel with flint and tinder. when the wood had burned out, he removed the embers from the glowing stones, poured his dough over them, and then replaced the embers on the top of that again. a few minutes after he rescued his work of art from its fiery grave, beat it severely with a stick, to remove the superfluous ashes and stones which stuck to it, and served it up. this abortive production we ate, if not quite with pleasure, at any rate with hearty appetite, and realised the truth of the proverb. after resting a little while, we left the neighbourhood of the fountain, and, in a few hours, reached the first slopes of the etbai mountains. these mountains (el etbai), stretching between the red sea and the nile, are inhabited in the southern portion by bisharin and amrab arabs, and in the north by the ababda tribe. between lofty black cliffs, absolutely bare of vegetation, rising in sheer perpendicular, stretch broad valleys well wooded, which the camel-breeders of these tribes pasture in. we traversed a well-nigh impassable road, moving on without resting, impelled by my desire to see my own folk and to finish the weary journey as quickly as possible. though we had nothing more to fear, for we were by now out of the power of the mahdists and on egyptian territory, my guide insisted on the importance of not being seen. he was afraid of being recognised by the people, who have commercial relations with the sudan. since his home lay on the border, and he was often obliged for various reasons to go to berber, the knowledge that he had served me in my flight might be fraught with most serious consequences for him. but with him the spirit was willing though the flesh was weak. being already advanced in years, the want of proper food and the overtaxing march had their effect on his health. in addition to this, he felt the cold, which was often severe, so much that he fell ill, although i had made over to him my jibba, and had nothing myself upon my body but the farda and hezam (a strip of woollen cloth to wind round the body, eight to nine yards in length). in order to get on i made over the camel to him for the last four days, and walked behind him with my bare feet over the stones; for my former guides had lost my sandals, and this was therefore for me, from the physical point of view, the hardest part of my journey. even our camel seemed to be going to leave us in the lurch. he had got a raw place on his off fore-foot, and had besides injured it so severely with a pointed stone that the unfortunate beast could hardly walk on it. i was obliged to sacrifice one of my hezamin, with which, by binding it in quadruple fold, i made a kind of shoe for him, which had, however, to be renewed every twenty-four hours. i had seen this done by camel-herds in darfur, though they use leather for the purpose, and the old experience now stood me in good stead. at last, on saturday, the th of march, in the morning at sunrise, descending from the heights, i saw the river nile and the town of assuan along its shore. i cannot describe the feelings of joy which possessed me. my woes were at an end; saved from the hands of fanatical barbarians, my eyes beheld for the first time the dwellings of civilised people, in a country governed with law and justice by its ruler. my heart went out to my creator in thankfulness for his protection and his guiding hand. i was received in the most friendly manner at their quarters by the english officers in his highness the khedive's service, and the egyptian officers, who only just then learned the surprising news of my arrival; and each vied with the other to do all that was in his power to help me to forget the miseries i had gone through. the commanding officer and governor of the frontier, who happened to have arrived almost at the same moment in assuan, colonel hunter pasha, as well as his officers, majors jackson, sidney, and machell bey, with bimbashi watson, and others whose names i cannot at this moment call to mind, generously placed their wardrobes at my disposal; and i availed myself of their kindness for what was strictly indispensable. before, however, i changed my clothes, my excellent friend watson, who is a capital artist, asked leave to make a sketch of me, a request to which i was delighted to accede. as to my guide, hamed garhosh, with the assistance of a former acquaintance, butros bey serkis, who is now british vice-consul in assuan, i at once paid him the one hundred and twenty maria theresa dollars. he also received from me a present of money, clothes, and arms, while over and above this hunter pasha presented him with a gift of £ as a token of joy at my safe arrival; and so, having suddenly become a "man of means," he took a touching farewell of me and departed. a short time afterwards, telegrams of congratulation arrived. the first was from major lewis bey on behalf of himself and the garrison of wadi halfa. the second, from the chief of the austrian diplomatic agency in egypt, baron heidler von egeregg, who has been so indefatigable on my behalf. then from my devoted friend, major wingate bey. baron victor herring and his sons, who were travelling on the nile, were the first of my own countrymen to greet me. [illustration: a camel corps scout, wadi halfa.] as it happened that the postal steamer was starting that afternoon, i was recommended to avail myself of it to continue my journey. escorted by all the officers, to the tune of the austrian national hymn (played by the band of the sudanese battalion), which it brought the tears into my eyes to hear, i went on board the steamer, amid the hurrahs of a number of tourists of all nations assembled on the bank. i was deeply moved. though i have ever tried to live up to my standard of honour in whatever circumstances i have been placed, which, indeed, any officer in a similar position would surely do, i had done nothing to prepare me for, still less to deserve, this public expression of sympathy, and it made me feel very humble. i travelled in company with machell bey, who commands the twelfth sudanese battalion, and whose march during the manoeuvres from wadi halfa by murrat to korosko had been the cause of my provisions being eaten up, and of the short commons i had to put up with in the desert. i took a terrible vengeance. he had to submit unconditionally to all my whims in food and drink, and endured his martyrdom with extraordinary good-nature and soldierly fortitude. when i arrived on sunday evening in luxor, i was again the object of a lively demonstration of sympathy from the european travellers, and here received, through baron heidler, a telegram from my dear sisters, and from my native city of vienna. sisters and native city! how sweet the words sound! on monday, at five in the afternoon, we reached girga, the southernmost station on the egyptian state railway, and proceeded to cairo, which i reached at six in the morning, on tuesday, the th of march. in spite of this early hour, baron heidler von egeregg, with his staff, and the austrian consul, dr. carl ritter von goracuchi, had come to the station to meet me; and there, too, was my dear friend wingate bey, to whom i can never sufficiently show my gratitude in word or deed. the "times" correspondent was also there; and father rosignoli, with a number of others, and, of course, a photographer taking snap-shots. we drove to the austrian diplomatic agency, where i was for a long time the guest of the warm-hearted baron heidler, who had worked so hard for my freedom, and whose actions were prompted, not only by a desire to do his duty as a representative of the government, but who was actuated by a deep sympathy for the sufferings of a fellow-creature held down in miserable bondage. on arrival, i found my rooms adorned with the flags of my dear fatherland, and decked with roses and flowers, whilst above the door was written, "a hearty welcome home." on the same day, i received telegrams of congratulations from my family, friends, fellow-students, and from several newspapers. i also met with a hearty welcome from his royal highness, duke wilhelm of würtemberg, and his serene highness, general prince louis esterhazy, both of whom had been in the bosnian campaign when i had served there with my regiment, and who greatly honoured me by their expressions of genuine sympathy with me in the hardships i had undergone, and in the joy i now experienced at having escaped at last from the tyrannical thraldom of the khalifa. i was received in audience, soon after my arrival, by his highness the khedive of egypt, who conferred upon me the title of pasha. i had entered the sudan sixteen years before as a first lieutenant of the austrian army, and, whilst governor of darfur, had been granted the egyptian military grade of lieutenant-colonel, and now, on my return, i was promoted to the rank of colonel, and posted to the egyptian intelligence department. a few days after my arrival, when seated on the balcony of the agency, and looking down on the garden all fresh with the verdure of spring, i espied a tame heron stalking across the flower-beds. instantly i thought of falz-fein of ascania nova, in tauride, south russia, and i hurried to my room, and then and there wrote to him a full account of the crane which he had released in , and which had been killed in dar shaigia. it was the greatest pleasure to feel myself in a position to give the former owner of the bird an accurate account of what had happened; and, soon afterwards, i received a reply from mr. falz-fein, who possesses a large estate in the crimea, thanking me warmly for my letter, and inviting me to pay him a visit, which, unfortunately, the numerous calls on my time have hitherto prevented me from accepting. a series of official and private calls, numerous invitations, and other social duties so occupied my time that some weeks elapsed before i could undertake any serious work. my first duty was, of course, to submit a detailed official report to my military superiors; and it was not till some time later, that i began to describe the story of my life during the last sixteen years. my old friend and comrade in captivity, father ohrwalder, who is now a missionary at suakin, took an early opportunity of coming to cairo to welcome me. our meeting was indeed a happy one, and i rejoiced to be able to thank him personally for all the assistance he had given in arranging for my escape. the contrast between my past and present life, the influence of fresh impressions, the many changes i see around me, sometimes make my head feel heavy,--heavy, as though i had just woke up from an evil dream,--twelve years' captivity, a long dream indeed! it was long before my excitement subsided, but gradually i began to settle down and collect my thoughts. now again in the midst of civilised society, once more a man among men, my thoughts often turn back to the fanatical barbarians with whom i had to live so long, to my perils and sufferings amongst them, to my unfortunate companions still in captivity, and to the enslaved nations of those remote territories. my thanks are due to god, whose protecting hand has led me safely through all the dangers behind me. chapter xx. conclusion. africa, past and present--the sudan, past and present--rise, progress, and wane of mahdism--how long will it last?--the khalifa's present position--european encroachment--"whites" in the bahr et ghazal--important strategical position of the province--time and tide wait for no man--i recover my long-lost sword--a last word. after more than sixteen years in africa, including twelve years of captivity, during which i was cut off from all communication with the civilised world, i have at length had the good fortune to return to europe. how africa has changed within this period! regions in the exploration of which livingstone, speke, grant, baker, stanley, cameron, brazza, junker, schweinfurth, holub, lenz, and hundreds of others risked their lives, are now accessible to civilisation. in most of these, in which the explorer had formerly to encounter the greatest dangers, there are now military posts and stations to afford security and facilitate the trade which is constantly becoming more active. from the east, italy, england, germany, from the west, the congo state, france, and england, are daily enlarging their spheres of influence, and are now on the point of joining hands in central africa. wild tribes, who in their modes of life are nearer to beast than to man, are beginning to know new wants, beginning to understand that there are beings mentally superior to themselves, and who, through the appliances of modern civilisation, are unconquerable even in foreign lands. the more northerly of the still independent mohammedan states--wadai, bornu, and the fellata kingdoms--will doubtless sooner or later be compelled to conclude alliances with some of the advancing powers, perceiving that only in this way their hereditary rule can be secured. in the middle of africa, between the lands just mentioned and the powers advancing from east, south, and west, lies the former egyptian sudan, now under the rule of the khalifa abdullahi, the despotic head of the mahdists. no european can venture to cross the limits of this land, cut off from civilisation, extending in the south along the nile to reggaf, and east to west from kassala to near wadai; death, or lifelong captivity, would be his lot. yet it is only within the short period of ten years that the land has been subjected to these miserable conditions. for more than seventy years, since the time of mohammed ali, it remained under the rule of egypt, and was open to civilisation. in the chief towns were found egyptian and european merchants. in khartum itself, the foreign powers had their representatives. travellers of all nations could pass through the land unharmed, and found protection and help through their aid. telegraphs and a regular postal service facilitated intercourse with the most distant countries. mohammedan mosques, christian churches, and mission schools looked after the religious and moral education of the young. the land was inhabited by the most diverse tribes, many of which lived in hostility with one another, but were compelled by the strength of the government to keep the peace. discontent, no doubt, prevailed in the land; and in the preceding pages i have shown how the avarice and misgovernment of the officials brought about a condition of affairs which rendered the country ripe for revolt. i have endeavoured to explain how mohammed ahmed took advantage of the mood of the people, and, well knowing that only a religious factor could unite the hostile tribes, he maintained that he was the mahdi sent by god to deliver the country from foreign yoke, and to regenerate religion, thus bringing into existence that element of fanaticism which throws such a lurid glow over those dark episodes with which the history of the past twelve years of the sudan has been so replete. without fanaticism, the revolt could never have been successful, while with it one is brought face to face with a condition of warfare and religious enthusiasm, to find a parallel to which one must go back to mediæval history and even further. in the preceding account of my life and adventures, in the vortex itself of this mighty religious movement, i have endeavoured to briefly trace, step by step, the principal causes which have led to the present situation,--changed greatly, it is true, from the time in which the mahdi and his successor were in the zenith of their power, but nevertheless a situation requiring careful handling and a thorough knowledge of details, in order that those concerned may be enabled to grasp accurately the conditions necessary to restore to civilisation this vast expanse of country which has now fallen into an almost indescribable state of moral and religious decadence. in the sudan, we have before us a terrible example of a nascent and somewhat crude civilisation suddenly shattered by wild, ignorant, and almost savage tribes who have built over the scattered remnants a form of government based, to some extent, on the lines they found existing, but from which they have eradicated almost every symbol of right, justice, and morality, and for which they have substituted a rule of injustice, ruthless barbarity, and immorality. nor can i recall any other instance in modern times of a country in which a semblance of civilisation has existed for upwards of half a century, falling back into a state so little removed from absolute barbarism. but let us consider for a moment what is this new power which has suddenly grown up, and which seems to the european world to block so completely all their civilising efforts, which have during recent years made such startling strides in almost every other part of the vast continent of africa. i have endeavoured to show how, on the mahdi's first rise to power, the entire country was with him heart and soul. how, on his death, real fanaticism gradually waned, and gave place to a temporary power wielded, under the cloak of religion, with reckless severity by the khalifa and his western arabs, who, taking the place of the egyptian garrisons they had destroyed, ruled the unfortunate populations with a rod of iron, and with such oppression and tyranny as to make them long for a return to any form of government which would give them rest and peace. it is needless for me to recapitulate the horrors and cruelties which have been enacted by the khalifa and his followers in order to maintain their position of ascendancy; but it will be sufficient for my purpose to recall here that at least seventy-five per cent of the total population has succumbed to war, famine, and disease, while of the remainder the majority are little better than slaves; and that terrible scourge, the slave-trade with all its attendant horrors, is rampant in the land, and includes amongst its victims numbers of abyssinian christians, syrians, copts, and egyptians. the extent of country now governed by the khalifa is little altered, it is true, from that occupied originally by the egyptian government, but with what a difference! prosperous districts with a teeming population have been reduced to desert wastes. the great plains over which the western arabs roamed are deserted, and their places taken by wild animals, while the homesteads of the nile dwellers are now occupied by those nomad tribes who have driven out the rightful owners of the soil, or enslaved them to till the land for the benefit of their new masters. deprived of the means of self-defence, reduced by oppression and tyranny to a condition of hopelessness of relief from their foreign task-masters, their powers of resistance crippled, the comparatively small river populations which are left are little better than slaves. what can they do of themselves against their despotic rulers? it is folly to imagine that the country can right itself by internal revolt. the helping hand must come from without; and the local populations must realise that the first step to re-establish government authority having been taken, there will be no drawing back. they must be convinced that the khalifa's power is doomed, and that the bright era of civilisation is assuredly returning. then, and not till then, will they heartily throw in their lot with the advancing forces, and lend their aid in breaking down the power of the now waning mahdist empire. let it not, however, be supposed that, although i describe this power as declining, it is likely of itself to become extinct within a comparatively short period. a careful perusal of the last few chapters will, i think, make it clear to all that the means taken by the khalifa to render his position secure against his internal enemies has been most thoroughly effective, and, assuming that his authority is not threatened by external influences, i see no cause why, as long as he is alive, he should not maintain his ascendancy. with his death, it is more than probable some internal revulsion will take place, which might, under certain circumstances, displace the dynasty he has attempted to found, but which would not necessarily bring that unfortunate country much nearer to civilising influences than it is at present. considered, therefore, from this point of view, the necessary palliative still lies in the introduction of external aid. the above hypothesis does not, however, entirely meet the conditions of the case. those who wish to study the present situation in the sudan must not think of that country as it was in the days of ismail pasha, when the civilising influence was represented by the egyptian government, and when the various countries lying immediately beyond the egyptian sphere were barbarous or pagan states, in which europeans were almost unknown, and the arab slave-hunter had barely penetrated; that condition has been little else than reversed. the mahdist authority, as i have already shown, is at once intolerably obstructive and dangerously insecure. the once comparatively civilised sudan is now occupied by a barbaric power hostile to both european and ottoman influence. it blocks the way from the central plateaus along the nile valley to the mediterranean; it seals up districts which were at one time fairly tranquil, and open to the influences of commerce and civilisation, while the various countries by which it is bordered are now being gradually opened up. intercourse between them and the outside world is becoming easier; trade is pushing obstacles out of the way; risk to life is lessened by the protective action of european governments; and the savage races by which they are peopled, are beginning to learn the folly of fighting against the resources of civilisation. to turn from generalisation to details, what do we find to be the present situation? on the east, egyptian influence is slowly--very slowly--recovering its lost ground in the vicinity of suakin and tokar. to the southeast, the italians have captured kassala, and have forced the mahdists to take up a strong line of defence on the west bank of the atbara river. further south, the abyssinians show no present intention of altering the relations which have previously existed between them and the dervishes. in the mountainous districts of fazoglu and the blue nile, the inhabitants have thrown off allegiance to the khalifa. far away to the south, at the sources of the nile, british influence is beginning to make itself felt in those regions where speke, grant, baker, and others gained imperishable renown by their magnificent explorations, and by their efforts against slavery and the slave-trade,--regions which will ere long be connected with the coast by a railway which will open up not only the country it traverses, but will also give an exit to the trade of southern equatoria and the adjacent countries. next to these british possessions comes the congo free state, which within the last few years has made such gigantic strides in bringing under its influence large tracts of country, not only in the vicinity of the mbomu and ubangi, but in many districts of the bahr el ghazal province and in equatoria, almost to within striking distance of the dervish advanced post at reggaf in the nile valley, while behind them, in the haute ubangi, or even in juxtaposition with them, the enterprising french pioneers are striving to give effect to their colonial dreams, which have of late years been so fully realised in various parts of africa. still further to the northwest, the khalifa's authority in those districts is menaced by hostile tribesmen who may, sooner or later, become subject to the guidance of european influence penetrating from the west and north of africa; and, on the extreme north, lies the egyptian power, which abdullahi is gradually learning to dread, as being that most likely to be the first to interfere with the uncertain tenure of his empire. such, then, is briefly the present defensive and offensive position of the mahdist sudan. all-powerful within his dominions, but threatened from all sides from without, there is little doubt that before the onward march of civilising forces the whole empire of the khalifa must crumble and collapse,--and what then? will egypt once more become the actual possessor of the country of which she was the legitimate owner? will all those civilising powers who are marching forward unselfishly realise that should they establish themselves on the banks of the navigable nile, they must not attempt to cut off or minimise the life-giving water supply of egypt by introducing skilled irrigation within the territories they may have acquired? will they unselfishly abandon the advantages which they may have secured through the expenditure of blood and treasure, in order that the legitimate rights of egypt may not be interfered with? all these questions enter into the domain of practical and current politics, with which it is not my province to deal. i am merely in the position of expressing my views on the importance and value of the sudan to egypt; and on this subject i hold a strong opinion. the reasons which first prompted mohammed ali, three quarters of a century ago, to take possession of the sudan, still hold good. as the nile is the life of egypt, so every effort must be made to preserve the nile valley from intrusion. any advance, therefore, of civilising influences towards that gigantic waterway must naturally be viewed with alarm by those authorities who are fully alive to the danger which would arise by the creation, on the banks of the river, of colonies whose personal interests would predominate over their regard for the preservation and advancement of egyptian welfare and prosperity. here and there, in the preceding pages, i have referred to the immense importance of the bahr el ghazal; and it is perhaps not out of place here to recapitulate once again the peculiar position which this province holds in regard to the remainder of the sudan. it is a most fertile district, extending over an enormous area, watered by a labyrinth of streams, and covered with mountains and forests in which elephants abound, while the low valleys are subject to inundations. the soil is exceptionally good, producing quantities of cotton and india-rubber. there are cattle in abundance; and i estimate the population at between five and six millions. they are capable of making excellent soldiers. moreover, the continual feuds between the various tribes prevent any combination of the inhabitants as a whole; hence the ease with which foreigners can obtain an ascendancy in the province, and create an efficient local army. the port of the bahr el ghazal was meshra er rek. to this place steamers periodically ascended from khartum, but were often stopped by the floating vegetation which from time to time blocks the passage of the upper nile. just south of fashoda, the river emerges from what may have been the bed of an ancient lake. into this wide marsh trickle a great number of winding streams which are often completely blocked by the suds; and through these dense barriers travellers must at times cut their way with swords and axes. sir samuel baker's expedition, - , was delayed a year from this cause. the geographical and strategical position of the province, therefore, with reference to the rest of the sudan, renders its possession of the greatest importance. the presence of foreigners, unconcerned in the preservation of egyptian interests, having at their command the vast resources of this great country, which are estimated at a much higher value in both men and materials than those of any portion of the nile valley, would place them in such a predominating position as to endanger any occupation by egypt of her lost provinces. in the preceding pages, i have described all i know of the movements of europeans in these districts; and it is possible an attempt in force on their part to reach the nile _via_ meshra er rek, or the bahr el homr, or bahr el arab, might meet with some opposition from the mahdists, but if well-conducted it would, in all probability, result in their losing their province. if, therefore, the khalifa were to learn that the "whites" in the bahr el ghazal were in greater force than his present information leads him to suppose, he might engage in a campaign against them; and in this case he would be obliged to send reinforcements from omdurman,--a matter of some difficulty, as the drain on his resources caused by the maintenance of large forces at the threatened points on the atbara opposite kassala, and in the dongola province, is considerable. reverting to the dervish situation in darfur and kordofan, it should be noted that the present force of the emir mahmud amounts to some thousands of rifle and spear men, scattered in garrisons at el fasher, shakka, and el obeid. mahmud himself resides at el fasher with the bulk of this force, and is constantly at war with the dar gimr, massalit, tama, beni hussein, hotir, and other tribes of the kebkebia and kulkul districts. recently, one of mahmud's lieutenants, fadlalla, was killed, and his force of six hundred men heavily defeated in a contest with these revolted tribes; and, just at the time i left omdurman, permission had been given to mahmud to send out a punitive expedition from el fasher, which appears to have been partially successful. these tribes, although nominally independent, owe a certain allegiance to the wadai sultanate. it is, therefore, erroneous to suppose that they are acting under the direction of rabeh zubeir, whose hostility to wadai is well known, and whose authority does not extend so far to the east, and now appears to be centred in the districts lying south and southwest of lake tchad. such, then, was the state of affairs in these southern and western districts when i left the sudan; and, since my arrival in the midst of civilisation, i have frequently seen many strange and conflicting reports in the press as to the situation in these distant regions, and although concurring with the view that the onward march of civilising forces must eventually cause the collapse of the mahdist empire, i feel that my unique position in the centre of dervish authority entitles me to give a word of warning to the country whose interests i endeavoured for long years to uphold, and whose eventual welfare and prosperity, in a recovered egyptian sudan, i earnestly long to see. i would merely impress upon her the fact that time and tide wait for no man; that whilst she is contemplating with longing eyes the recovery of her lost provinces, there is always the possibility that they may fall into the hands of others who may prove more difficult to dislodge than the khalifa, and who, by bringing engineering skill on the life-giving waters of egypt, may endanger its very existence, and who would--though it is undoubtedly the lesser of two evils--deprive that country of the rich blessings of trade and commerce which, under a beneficent administration in the sudan, would give wealth and prosperity both to the parent egypt and her recovered nile provinces. with these few words of friendly advice to the country to whose services i rejoice to have returned after twelve long years of captivity, i now end this narrative. but ere i close, i will relate yet one more incident which, were i superstitious, i would consider presaged well for the recovery of what has been lost. in december, , when force of circumstances obliged me to surrender to the mahdi, the sword of austrian pattern which i had received on entering the austrian army, and on which i had had my name engraved in arabic characters, was taken from me. in august, , when i came to london to attend the geographical congress, it was returned to me by mr. john cook, sen., of the firm of thomas cook & son, at his office in ludgate circus. it appears that mr. john cook had, in , purchased this sword from a native of luxor, on the banks of the nile, his attention having been attracted by the arabic inscription on the blade, from which my friend, major wingate, whom he met shortly afterwards, was able to decipher my name. it is, i think, likely the mahdi had presented my sword to one of his followers who had taken part in the invasion of egypt by nejumi, in ; and when that redoubtable emir was overthrown by general sir francis grenfell on the field of toski, it is probable that the wearer of my sword fell too, and the long-lost weapon was taken from the field by a villager, from whom mr. cook purchased it. to have lost my much-prized first sword in the wilds of darfur, and to find it again in the heart of london, is almost more than a coincidence. during the last sixteen years, i have led a life of strange vicissitudes; and i have endeavoured to narrate as simply as i could my unique experiences, in the hope that my story may not only prove of interest to those who have shown sympathy with the hard fate of the european captives in the sudan, but with the most earnest desire that these my experiences may prove of some value when the time for action may arise, and when, if god wills, my services may be utilised in helping to abolish the rule of my tyrannical master and lifelong enemy, the khalifa abdullahi, and re-establish in that country the government authority i struggled with some measure of success, but alas vainly, to uphold. [illustration: khartum and omdurman edward arnold; london & new york standford's geog^{l} estab^{t}, london map showing extent of mahdist influence in . edward arnold; london & new york standford's geog^{l} estab^{t}, london] index. the following letters appended to names of persons signify: _a._ ashraf, descended from the prophet; _c._ commander; _d._ danagla or dongolawi; _e._ emir; _g._ governor; _j._ jaalin; _k._ king; _kfa._ khalifa; _m._ mahdi; _p._ pasha; _s._ sultan; _sh._ sheikh. abakr, s., begu, , , , , . abba, island of, mahdi's home, , , . abd el kader, mahdi's uncle, ; _p._, _g._ gen. sudan, ; his advice, . abderrahman, _k._ darfur, ; and napoleon, ; abderrahman ben naga's warning, . abdul kerim, mahdi's cousin, ; to sennar, , . abdullahi bin sayd mohammed, khalifa el mahdi, _w. arab_, early history, , ; proclaimed khalifa, ; appearance, ; commands "blue flag," ; succeeds mahdi, ; coinage, ; "signs and commands," ; tyranny, ; seizes nile boats, ; mahdi's dome, ; dr. wahrmund's letter, ; brethren arrive, ; writes to queen, etc., ; illness, ; fortifies atbara, ; fiendish character, ; harem, ; postal service, ; how he rides abroad, ; reviews, ; present army, etc., ; frontiers, ; treasuries, ; timidity, ; house at omdurman, ; his "blackholes," . abdullahi dudbenga, harun's cousin, _s._, , , . abdullahi om dramo, _sh._ messeria, ; joins madibbo, . abo bey, _c._ toweisha, disloyal, ; moves on dara, . abu anga, _e._ of blacks, ; befriends slatin, ; reduces kordofan, , ; marches to omdurman, ; beats abyssinians, ; dies much lamented, . abu es saud, attacks abba, . abu "falja" (mahdi), . abu gemmaisa, his rebellion, . abu girga, _d. e._ gezira, ; besieges khartum, ; repulsed, ; to kassala, ; joins osman digna, ; at kassala, ; sent to reggaf, . abyssinians take gallabat, ; beaten by abu anga, ; king john's death, . adam amer, _c._ el fasher, . adlan, ibrahim, in charge of beit el mal, , ; his new offices, ; hung, . afifi wad ahmed, _sh._ habbania, ; killed, . agordat, battle of, . ahmed ed dalia, executioner, , , . ahmed el makur, _k._ darfur, . ahmed fedil, khalifa's cousin, commands blacks, ; to gedarif, . ahmed katong, lame arab, . ahmed wad ali, at kassala, ; _e._, ; comes to omdurman, ; back to gallabat, , ; routed by italians, and killed, . ahmed wad ali, "kadi el islam," ; with khalifa, , ; starved, . ahmed wad suleiman, _e._ beit el mal, , ; with khalifa, ; discharged, , ; condemned, . ala ed din, _p._, _g._ gen. sudan, . ali bey sherif, _g._ kordofan, ; _g._ darfur, ; at el fasher, ; slatin succeeds, , ; submissive, , . ansar, "helpers," , . arab clothes, ; courage, , , , , , , ; customs, ; food, , ; greed of gain, ; oath of fealty, ; tactics, , , ; treachery, . arabs, _baggara_, , ; _batahin_, ; _bedeyat_, , ; _beni helba_, ; country, , , ; revolt, ; chastised, ; _ereikat_, ; _gehéna_, ; destroyed, ; _gimeh_, transported, ; _gowama_, , ; _habbania_, join suleiman, ; against him, ; rise, ; _hawazma_, , ; _homr_, ; _kababish_, plundered, ; _khawabir_, restless, , ; _maalia_, rise, , , , ; _maheria_, ; rise, ; _massalit_, ; _mima_, restless, , , , , ; _misseria_, , , ; _rizighat_, ; from ruzeik, ; independence of, ; rise, ; decimated and divided, ; join suleiman, ; against him, ; rise, , ; _shaigi_, loyal, ; to khartum, ; _tago_, , ; _taaisha_, , ; masters, ; _zaghawa_, , ; _zayedia_, . arabs, animosity between e. and w. tribes, , , . arifi wad ahmed, _sh._ habbania, . artin, armenian watchmaker, . ashraf, ; starved and beaten to death, ; property confiscated, , . atbara river, . babakr abu sebiba, . bahr el ghazal, subject to darfur, ; black population, , ; recruiting ground, ; penetrated by congo state, ; its importance to egypt, . bairam, , , ; trooping colours at, . bara, captured by mahdi, . barnu, ismail wad, , , , . batahin, execution of, . bazingers, . bee-keeping in sudan, . begu, tribe of bahr el ghazal, ; _s._, . beit el mal, , , , . berber, fall of, . beresford, lord charles, . beshari bey, , . black babies, . calamatino, george, gordon's messenger, , , . camel besieged by waganda, ; runaway, . caravan road re-opened, . coinage, . comboni, r. c. bishop, . congo state, flags, ; treaties, . corruption, . crane, russian in dongola, . dafalla, ahmed bey, ; at el obeid, ; surrenders, ; interviews mahdi, ; killed, . dafalla, arabi, in dongola, ; to reggaf, ; defeats fadl el maula, . dali, _s._, . dali, kitab, or penal code, . danagla, descendants of slave dangal, . dara, capital of s. darfur, ; the doctor of, . darfur, kingdom of, once reached atbara, ; egyptians conquer, ; _s._ in revolt, . darho, omar wad, _c._ shaigia, ; arbitrator, ; accused by zogal, , ; disloyal, ; chastises arabs, , ; back to el fasher, ; joins zogal, ; attacks jebel marra, ; revolts against khalifa, ; shot by zogal, . deain, madibbo's village, , . delen, r. c. mission station, . dinkas, . divorce, oath of, . dongola, . donkey postman, . duem, on white nile, . ebtar idris bey, _d._ zubeir's agent, ; accuses suleiman at khartum, ; _g._ bahr el ghazal, . ebtar, osman, idris' brother, killed at ganda, . egeil wad el jangawi, madibbo's enemy, . el fasher, capital of darfur, ; taken by zubeir, ; besieged by harun, ; slatin at, ; taken by zogal, . el koreishi, _sh._, , . el obeid, siege of, ; starved out, ; mutiny at, . elias pasha, _g._ gen. kordofan, , ; invites mahdi to el obeid, ; at duem, . emiliani dei danziger, of kobbé, ; mudir of dara, ; dies, . emin bey, . esh sheikh's advice, , . evil eye, the, . fadlalla, ali wad, arrested, , ; his grave rifled, . fadl el maula, _c._ of _all_ blacks, . fadl el maula bekhit, mutinies, . famine, , _et seq._ farag, mohammed effendi, , . faragalla, _p._ defends omdurman fort, . farquhar, col., ; his note-book, . fayo, native radish, . fealty, arab oath of, . felkin, dr. r. w., at dara, . fiki mohammed el heliki, . french and english, . fungs, , . furs, ; only stopped by nile, ; niurnia, . gabralla, , ; slave-dealer, . gallabat, destroyed by abyssinians, ; almost taken again, . gellabas (_j._ and _d._), traders from nile, ; gordon's order ruins, , ; claims of, , ; revenge on gordon, . gessi, romolo, and shellali attack suleiman, ; sick at khartum, ; dies at suez, . gezira, island (_j._ and _d._), between blue and white niles, espouse mahdi's cause, , . ghanima, "plunder," note, , , ; granary of khartum, . giegler pasha, , , , , . gilif mountains, . gordon, his kindness, , , ; coolness, ; meets suleiman, ; succeeds ismail pasha, ; marched out of abyssinia, ; leaves sudan, ; returns, ; popular with w. arabs, ; his letter, ; despatches and awaits steamers, , ; his death, . gowl, bir, hot spring, , . gretli, mohammed el, , . gsiller, herr von, egyptian consul, . guma, ali agha, conducts retreat, ; goes to mima country, . guma, mohammed, lets mahdi escape, . guma, said bey, , ; _c._ el fasher, , , ; defends el fasher, ; with mahdi, . guru, village, . hamada effendi, tortured, . hamed wad all, khalifa's cousin, _e._ kassala, ; commands jaalin, , . hansal, austrian consul, writes to slatin, ; killed at khartum, . harun, _s._ darfur, heads a revolt, ; at niurnia, ; threatening, ; raids dara, ; pursued, ; defeated, . hasaballa, _sh._ maheria, , . hashaba, _sh._ salama's village, ; number of force collected at, . hassan bey om kadok (berti), and his brother ismail, . hassan hussein, _e._ of egyptians, . hassan wad saad nur, ; joins mahdi, , . helmi, hassan pasha, ; _g._ darfur, , , . helmi, mansur effendi, ; accuses suleiman, ; sent to shakka, ; false, ; at murrai, ; runs away, . helu, ali wad, degheim, _kfa._, ; commands "green flag," ; sides with khalifa, ; well paid, ; in ashraf insurrection, , , . helu, musa wad, to metemmeh, ; killed at abu klea, . hicks pasha, ; his expedition a mistake, ; cut to pieces at shekan, . home rule in the sudan, . hussein, _p._ _g._ shakka, . hussein _kfa._ berber, at mahdi's camp, . ibrahim, _s._ last _k._ darfur, ; his tomb, ; his sisters, . ismail pasha, ; and zubeir, ; summoned to egypt, . iya, basi zemzem, "eldest sister" of _s._ darfur, . jaalin, descended from abbas the prophet's uncle, ; zubeir's tribe, . janghé, baggara tribe transferred to bahr el ghazal, ; revolt and join maddibbo, . japo, mohammed agha, ; hoodwinks mahdi, . jebel gedir, renamed "masa," . jebel marra, centre of darfur, . jehad (holy war) proclaimed, , , ; round suakin, . jehadia, _j._, . jibba, the mahdist dress, , , ; the mahdi's own, . kabbashi, mustem wad, _sh._, ; at om waragat, ; wounded, . kalaka, headquarters of habbania, . kapsun, fertit boy sent to england, . karamalla, _d._, mahdi's relative, _g._ bahr el ghazal, ; at shakka, ; prefers dara, ; retires, . kassala, besieged, ; closely besieged, ; surrenders, ; captured by italians, . kebkebia, capital w. darfur, . kerraba, the, . khadiga, donkusa's sister, . khadiga, khalifa's daughter, married to mahdi's son, . khaled wad iman, sent to kordofan, , ; zogal's agent, ; writes to madibbo, . khartum, gordon at, ; invested by gezira tribes (_j._), ; famine, ; fall of, ; pillaged, . kitab-dali, or penal code, . kitchener, sir herbert, (note), . klootz, gustav, brought in, , ; in chains, ; died, . kobbé, old capital of darfur, , . kordofan, taken and retaken, ; in possession of mahdi, . koreina nur, killed, . kuku agha, killed, . kurd, abu sheikh, . leontides, gr. consul, killed at khartum, . locusts, . lupton bey, _g._ gen. bahr el ghazal, ; capitulates, ; arrives at mahdi's camp, ; in irons, ; his wife and daughter, ; hair white, ; set free, ; engineer, ; dies, . madibbo, _sh._ rizighat, , ; discharged by emiliani, ; joins mahdi, ; attacks deain, ; stampeded, ; wins om waragat, ; beaten off, ; challenged, ; surprised, ; attacks dara, ; explains, ; abu anga's revenge on, . "mahdi el muntazer," . _see_ mohammed ahmed. mahmud, khalifa's relative, _e._ darfur, returns to dongola, ; resides now at el fasher, . mahmud, ali said, mahdi's relative, killed at korti, . marching order, . marcopoli bey, . marissa, sudan beer, . marriage, in sudan, ; gabralla's office for, ; of fadl maula, ; jars, ; made easy, ; divorce frequent, ; abruptly dissolved, . massawa, italians at, . mek adam um daballo, ; advises mahdi to retire into interior, . melek hagger, . melek jusef, . messallamia, , , . messedaglia bey, _g._ el fasher, ; plans attack on harun, . miracles, ; comet, , ; at friday reviews, . mohammed ahmed (mahdi), _a._ first news of, ; his history, ; quarrel with sherif, ; builds koreishi's tomb, ; secret tour in kordofan, ; proclaims himself mahdi, ; chooses three khalifas, ; first successes, - ; jebel "masa," ; takes el obeid, ; works a miracle, ; imitates mohammed, ; his sensuality, ; master of sudan, ; at rahad, ; friday reviews, ; to khartum, ; his appearance, ; death, ; burial, ; teaching, ; chronicles, ; "instructions," . mohammed el fadl, _s._ darfur, subdues arabs, ; his mosque, . mohammed el kheir, mahdi's first teacher, ; takes berber, ; awaits english at metemmeh, ; holds dongola, ; dead, . mohammed et taki, khalifa's father, . mohammed hussein, _k._ darfur, ; his prophecy, . mohammed idris, . mohammed khaled. _see_ zogal bey. mohammed said pasha, _g._ el obeid, ; misses mahdi, , ; lets mahdi go again, ; his treasure, ; death, . mohammed sherif, _kfa._ _see_ sherif. mohammed terab, _k._ darfur, stopped by nile, . mohammed wad asi, ; brings news, . morgan hosan, faithful in death, . mussaid wad gaidum, ; in dongola, ; recalled, ; kassala, ; loses kassala, . mustapha bey yawer, defends dongola, . nejumi, abderrahman, with zogal, ; sent against khartum, ; takes sennar, ; to dongola, ; defeated and killed at toski, . neufeldt, charles, ; in prison, . niurnia, capital of tago princes, ; fur sultans, . nur angara bey, _g._ w. darfur, ; surprises harun, ; his history, ; household, , ; sent to metemmeh, . o'donovan, ; his note-book, . officers, six shot at dara, . ohrwalder, father, ; taken by mahdi, ; escapes in ashraf insurrection, . om badr, . ombeija, sudan war-horn, , , , , , . om bilbil, , . om lawai, taken and destroyed, . om shanga, ; fort evacuated, ; surrender of, . om waragat, disaster at, . omdurman, the sacred city of the mahdi, ; filth of, ; fort besieged, ; prison, ; taken, . _see_ map. osman digna, ; fights abyssinians, ; at tokar, ; flies to atbara, . osman sheikh ed din, khalifa's son, ; married to yakub's daughter, . osman wad adam, khalifa's cousin, to kordofan, ; at el obeid, ; _e._ kordofan and darfur, ; to shakka, , ; dies, . osman wad dekeim, to berber, . ostrich, hunting, ; breeding stopped, ; swiftness of, . pain, olivier (frenchman), ; taken ill and dies, . rahad, ; mahdi at, ; slatin reaches, . ramadan, , . rashed bey, _g._ fashoda, and men annihilated, . rations paid for, , , . rauf pasha, succeeds gordon, ; warned by sherif, . reggaf, ; most southern post of khalifa, . rifki, hassan effendi, , , , ; killed with shellali, . rott, gottfried, at dara, ; taken ill and dies, . rudolph, crown prince, news of death, . saadalla, nubawi, , , . sahra, khalifa's principal wife, . said hussein, _g._ shakka, ; arrested, . said mahmud, . salama, abu mohammed bey, _sh._ habbania, ; deserts, ; joins madibbo, . salama, brother of om dramo, his ride, ; wounded, . saleh bey el kabbashi, _sh._ kababish at om badr, ; sends to egypt, ; caravan waylaid, ; flies and is killed, . saleh donkusa and zaghawa, , _et seq._, . saleh wad el mek, ; in mahdi's suite, ; his brother's head, ; his sons, ; discharged, . seckendorff, baron, , . sennar, relieved, ; again, ; falls, . sennusi, mohammed es, _sh._ of n. africa, , . shakka, battle at, ; slatin marches to, . sharaf ed din, , ; his death, . shekan, disaster at, . shellali, yusef pasha esh, , ; disaster, . sherif, mohammed, _sh._, ; warns rauf, ; joins mahdi, . sherif, mohammed es, _kfa._, ; commands "red flag," ; at storming of khartum, , ; loses his drums, ; appeased, ; revolts, ; gets into trouble, . shilluks, . slatin pasha goes to egypt, ; mudir of dara, ; attacks harun, ; collects suleiman's bazingers, ; _g._ general darfur, ; retires on dara, ; marches to shakka, ; turns mohammedan, ; _c._ darfur, ; surrenders dara, ; meets khalifa, ; swears fealty to mahdi, ; writes to gordon and consul hansal, ; in chains, ; more chains, ; more still, ; free, ; darfurian wife, ; offered wives, , , , ; white jibba instead, ; with yunes, ; suspected, ; rides, ; hears from home, , , ; moves house, ; meditates escape, ; by whom aided, ; fails, ; succeeds, ; recovers sword, . slave market at beit el mal, , , ; runaway slaves, . slave trade, , , , , ; rott and, , . small-pox, at omdurman, ; gemmaisa dies of, . solong, suleiman, _k._ darfur, . stambuli, george, , . stewart, col., steamer wrecked, . sudan, education in, ; effects of proclamation abandoning, ; gross immorality in, , ; justice in, ; liberty in, ; manufactures, ; market in, ; one quarter of population left, ; past and present state, ; products, , ; religion, ; soldiers' rations in, ; trade routes, . tagos, displaced by tungurs, , . tarika, sammania, etc., ; mahdi's new, , . taxation, slatin inspector, ; of baggara arabs, ; unjust, ; mohammedan poll tax and alms, ; on gum, . theft, punishment of, . tomb of mahdi, building of, ; pilgrimage to, . toweisha, . tuti island, ; surrenders, ; sir c. wilson at, . typhus fever, ; mahdi dies of, , ; khalifa attacked by, . uganda, christians in, . umbusa, begu, mother of mohammed el fadl, . usul, el ata wad melek, at om shanga, . vizetelly, . wadai, sultanate, . waganda, envoys, . wahrmund, professor, . water bottles, , ; melons, , ; baobab trees, . wilson, rev. c. t. at dara, . wilson, sir c., and steamers, . wodehouse, _p._ wadi halfa, . wolseley, lord, at dongola, ; at abu klea, . yakub, khalifa's brother, ; sympathetic villain, , , ; his spies, , ; plot against zogal, , , ; pays w. arabs, . yunes wad dekeim (khalifa's relative), ; subdues gimeh, ; gallabat, ; attacks abyssinians, ; his rapacity, ; escapes plot and is recalled, ; _e._ dongola, ; recalled, ; sent back, . yusef pasha. _see_ shellali. yusef, _s._ aims at independence, ; killed at kebkebia, . zeidan agha, "all right," . zeki tummal (taaisha), ; succeeds abu anga, ; defends gallabat, ; harries shilluks, . zeki, starved to death, , . zigada, dimitri, of el fasher, , ; breaking rules, , . zogal bey, mahdi's cousin, at dara, , ; disloyal, , ; left at dara, ; sent to el obeid, ; detected, ; said mohammed ibn khaled, ; enters dara, ; takes el fasher, ; lives in style, ; arrested, ; sent to osman digna, ; _e._ dongola, ; recalled and imprisoned for life, ; exiled, . zubeir, pasha, _j._ ali abu amuri's assistant, ; "not the mahdi," ; _g._ bahr el ghazal, ; takes dara, ; made pasha and goes to cairo, . zubeir suleiman, _j._ threatens revolt, ; bey _g._ bahr el ghazal, ; dismissed, ; attacks ganda five times, ; his wealth, ; submits to gessi, ; shot by helmi's danagla, ; his wife and son, . zubeir rabeh, ; escape of, ; goes west, ; near lake tchad, . zurbuchen, dr., , , , ; treats gessi, . footnotes: [ ] the dabarek is the circular pond usually made close to a well, into which the water when drawn up is poured, and which is then used as the drinking-trough for the flocks. [ ] the name given to the lords of the bahr el ghazal zaribas and their men. [ ] a sheba is a piece of forked wood which is fixed on the neck by way of punishment, and in this position is very painful. [ ] when religious sheikhs go out to preach, they are generally preceded by men bearing flags, on which texts from the kuran are inscribed. [ ] favourites of god. the expression occurs in the kuran in the following verse: "are not the favourites of god those on whom no fear shall come, nor shall they be put to grief?" (surah x. ). [ ] the mahdi is supposed to come from jebel masa in north africa; but the astute mohammed ahmed did not hesitate to call jebel gedir, which was to be his destination in kordofan, by this name, and thus fulfil one of the principal conditions of a "mahdi." [ ] that is, the "helpers,"--a term given by the prophet mohammed to the early converts of el medina. [ ] one of the most solemn forms of administering an oath is for the person taking the oath to say, "i impose upon myself divorcement." [ ] more familiarly, "he who fights and runs away, lives to fight another day." [ ] according to mohammed ibn taher, "fai" is booty taken from a country which submits to islam without resistance, as distinguished from "ghanima," or plunder. the mahdi adopted the "ghanima" principle entirely. [ ] major kitchener, now sir herbert kitchener, the sirdar of the egyptian army. [ ] on my return to cairo in , i learnt that the full text of the letters to which i have referred, had reached the british authorities, and had been published in general gordon's journal. [ ] the steamer "husseinyeh." [ ] one egyptian piastre = ½d. [ ] unfortunately, the jibba was too big and long for me, consequently i was unable to wear it at the time of my escape. [ ] by mere chance i had heard that the man's name was taib wad haj ali, and that he had once been in omdurman with nejumi. [ ] the khalifa, being a baggari, or cattle-owning arab, frequently draws similes of this description. [ ] all true moslems are buried facing mecca. [ ] the term "muslimani" is generally given to the descendants of "unbelievers;" is an opprobrious epithet, and is applied by the mahdists to all so-called renegades. transcriber's notes obvious errors of punctuation and diacritics repaired. the following variants have not been changed: "spear men" and "spearmen", "ombeÿa" and "ombeija". the following words appear both with and without hyphens and have not been changed: "birth[-]place", "day[-]time", "dock[-]yard", "down[-]hearted", "re[-]capture", "re[-]capturing", "re[-]conquer", "re[-]conquest", "re[-]named", "re[-]opened", "re[-]taken", "re[-]united", "wide[-]spread(ing)". hyphen removed: "bare[-]footed" (p. ), "life[-]long" (p. ), "mid[-]day" (pp. , ), "re[-]gain" (p. ). hyphen added: "body[-]guard" (p. xvi), "camel[-]men" (p. ), "fire[-]arms" (pp. , ), "good[-]will" (p. ), "mid[-]stream" (p. ), "semi[-]circle" (p. ), "small[-]pox" (p. ), "water[-]melons" (p. ). p. : "omer" changed to "omar" (hillet omar). p. : "become" changed to "became" (a spirit of jealousy became rampant). p. : "send" changed to "sent" (at the same time i sent word). p. : "bilal nagur" changed to "belal nagur". "madhi" changed to "mahdi" (pp. , , , , , ). p. : "an" added (he kept an open table). p. : "maddibo" changed to "madibbo". p. : "sowed" changed to "sewed" ( i then sewed up the wound). p. : "imprisoment" changed to "imprisonment" (the rigours of my imprisonment). p. : "the" added (ordered me in the future to remain). p. : "heartly" changed to "heartily" (would have joined most heartily). p. : duplicate "age" removed (even women of an advanced age). p. : "collected" changed to "collecting" (he succeeded in collecting). p. : added "to" (rank next to that of the khalifa). p. (caption of facing illustration): "batakin" changed to "batahin". p. : "suppresed" changed to "suppressed" (the revolt of abu gemmaiza having been suppressed). p. : "gareifawi" changed to "gereifawi". p. : "stills" changed to "still" (he still pretends to lead a life). p. : "aberrahman" changed to "abderrahman". p. : "he" changed to "the" (the sun disappeared from the horizon). p. : "moutains" changed to "mountains" (first slopes of the etbai mountains). p. (caption of facing illustration): "wady" changed to "wadi". p. : "ascanea nova" changed to "ascania nova". p. (index entry for "ibrahim"): "dafur" changed to "darfur". p. (index entry for "sennar"): " " changed to " ". p. (index entry for zeki tummal, defends gallabat): added page number " ". a narrative of what was seen and accomplished by the contingent of north american indian voyageurs who led the british boat expedition for the relief of khartoum up the cataracts of the nile. our caughnawagas in egypt. by louis jackson of caughnawaga. captain of the contingent, with an introductory preface by t. s. brown, esq. montreal: wm. drysdale & co., publishers, booksellers and stationers, st. james street. . entered according to act of parliament, in the year one thousand eight hundred and eighty-five by louis jackson, in the office of the minister of agriculture and statistics at ottawa. [illustration: louis jackson, captain of the contingent.] preface. the indians of caughnawaga are an offshoot from the mohawks, one of the divisions of the six nations, formerly in pseudo occupation of western new york, and known to the french by the general name of iroquois. long before the cession of this province to great britain, they were settled at the head of the rapids of the st. lawrence opposite lachine, on a tract of land ten miles square, or , acres held in common, but lately separated into lots to be divided among the people as individual property. contrary to what has been the too common fate of aborigines brought into close contact with foreigners, the caughnawagas, with some mixture of white blood, have maintained throughout, their indian customs, manners and language, with the manhood of their ancestors, in an alertness, strength and power of endurance where-ever these qualities have been required: in the boating or rafting on our larger rivers and the hardships of _voyageurs_ in the north-west. as a high tribute to this known excellence, the call for canadian _voyageurs_ to assist in the boat navigation of the nile was accompanied by a special requirement that there should be a contingent of fifty caughnawagas. they responded quickly to the call, performed the task committed to them in a manner most satisfactory as described in these pages, and returned to their homes at the end of six months, after a voyage of more than , miles, sound and resolute as when they started, with the loss of but two men. there is something unique in the idea of the aborigines of the new world being sent for to teach the egyptians how to pass the cataracts of the nile, which has been navigated in some way by them for thousands of years, that should make this little book attractive to all readers, especially as it is written by one born and bred in caughnawaga, who, with the quick eye of an indian, has noticed many things unnoticed by ordinary tourists and travellers. it is written in a most excellent spirit that might wisely be imitated by other travellers. the writer finds no faults, blames nobody, and always content, is generous in his acknowledgments for every act of kindness and proper consideration shown to him and his party, by her majesty's officers of all ranks in command of the expedition. it was written off-hand and goes forth to the public as it came from the pen of the writer, to be judged in its style and the matter contained, by no standard but its own. montreal, april, . our caughnawagas in egypt. when it was made known by lord melgund in the early part of september, , that it was the express desire of general lord wolseley to have caughnawaga indians form part of the canadian contingent, the required number was soon obtained, in spite of discouraging talk and groundless fears. having been introduced to lord melgund, i agreed to go and look after the caughnawaga boys, although then busily engaged in securing my crops. i, with a number of others reached the "ocean king" at quebec, having been left behind in montreal through incorrect information given me by one of the ship's officers as to the time of sailing. we received the farewell of the governor general on board the "ocean king," and his excellency's very kind words had an especially encouraging effect upon my boys. on reaching sidney, b. c., and while taking in coal, some funny tricks were played by voyageurs which i must not omit. to get ashore in spite of the officers who kept watch on the wharf, some daring fellows jumped from the vessel's rigging into the empty coal cars returning to the wharf, coming back in the dark and the vessel being a few feet off the wharf, the men had to climb aboard by a rope. now it happened, that of two friends, one was able to get up, the other was not, neither could his friend help him, they however, contrived a plan, which they carried out to perfection. the one on the wharf laid quietly down, while his friend climbed aboard and there informed our officers that a man had hurt himself by falling off the coal shoot, immediately there was great alarm, lamps were hung over the side and the man discovered by his clothes to be one of the voyageurs, a plank was shoved out over the ship's rail, standing nearly upright and a line hove, (some suggested to put the line around his neck.) however, he was hoisted aboard and carried towards the cabin. while being carried, the apparently lifeless one was seen to open his eyes three or four times, but too many hands evidently had hold of him and so he was brought before the doctor, who eagerly examined him, but soon pronounced him dead, "dead drunk" and ordered him to be taken to his bunk, where he soon sat up laughing and feeling good, to escape so easily. on arriving in alexandria, after a fine passage and good treatment we saw our boats, which at the first sight and from a distance, were condemned by the boys, but later experience changed our first impression. we left the wharf at alexandria on the th of october, at a. m. by train. the first-class carriages were after the english style, but the troop cars in which we were transported were less comfortable, they had four benches placed fore and aft, two in the centre back to back and one on each side with back to outside, lacking the usual conveniences of our canadian cars. the sides of the car were about four feet high, then open to the roof. we were fifty-six in a car which made it uncomfortably crowded. after leaving alexandria i was surprised to see people standing up to their necks in the swamps, cutting some kind of grass. i saw also cattle lying perfectly still in the water with just their heads out. this sight scared my boys as to what the heat would be further south. beyond the swamps on the east side of the road i saw nice gardens, and, what was still more interesting, groves of palm trees with fruit. after two hours' ride we reached the desert, where nothing but sand was to be seen. the whistle went all the time to warn camel drivers, who also use the roadbed, and i did not see any other road for them to travel. another curiosity was the protective fencing for the road, made of cornstalks to keep back the sand, as we make board fences against the snow. at all the stations, which were far apart, all hands rushed out for a drink of water. we did not meet many trains. during the afternoon we came close to the nile, which there appeared to be about the same width as the st. lawrence opposite caughnawaga. we soon reached a regular egyptian settlement, with people living in small mud huts, and with chickens, goats, sheep and dogs coming out with the children. the ground appeared to be clay and in the road every three or four feet there was a rat hole and rats dodging in all directions. i saw more rats at a glance than i had ever seen before in all my life. we also saw some ship yards with some boats on the stocks and some on the mud. the boats were about twenty feet long, and one afloat appeared to be wood to within about four inches above water with gunwales of mud and a peculiar sail. the gunwales were three or four feet high and five or six inches thick. they appeared to be baked hard by the sun, and were water proof, as i afterwards saw several of them loaded so heavily that a great part of the mud gunwales were under water. i suppose mud is used in preference to wood, because wood is very scarce in egypt and mud is very plentiful. they make the most of the mud which the nile brings down in such quantities every year. they build houses with it as well as boats and it is this mud which manures and fertilizes the whole land of egypt. we soon sighted the pyramids and came to bulac station three miles from cairo at o'clock. it being dark, supper was served which we took into the cars, it consisted of canned meat, bread and tea. we left at eight for assiout. the sand became very troublesome entering the open cars and i concluded as we were travelling through the night to give my eyes a rest and went to sleep sitting up. next morning at eight o'clock we reached assiout about miles from alexandria, there we saw some nubian prisoners, black, ugly and desperate looking fellows chained together with large rusty chains round their necks. they were sitting on the ground. we were marched about a quarter of a mile to the river, where there were fleets of steamers and barges, one fleet waiting for us. we were marched on board two barges tied together and after washing about half an inch of mud off our faces with nile river water, went to breakfast prepared by our own cooks who had left alexandria twelve hours in advance. after breakfast i went ashore, i noticed in one little mud hut, goats, sheep, dogs and children on the ground and there were flies in the children's faces and eyes beyond description. i got my first near view of a date tree here with its rough bark which i cut with my knife. [illustration: the pyramids of gizeh.] [illustration: the great sphinx.] the next sight was a ship yard where four or five whip saws were kept going; their whip saw is rigged like a bucksaw only the saw instead of the stick, is in the centre. there is a stick on each side of the saw and a string outside each stick. they had to back the saw the whole length of the wood to get it out. messrs. cook and son the great tourist agents had just commenced to build a large hotel, which when returning home i found already finished. i noticed a sign over a mud house door "egyptian bank." a track runs from the depot straight down to the river and there were a number of flat cars loaded with boats, of which i took a nearer look, i also saw oars and poles. i was well pleased with all and at the same time made up my mind, that we had carried paddles across the ocean for very little use. i asked permission to go and see the catacombs, but was told that we must get under way. i received for my men cooking utensils, such as kettles, tin-plates, knives, forks and spoons, for the whole campaign, which i delivered up again, when returning. we started at a. m., the fleet consisting of two barges side by side in tow of a side-wheel steamer. at the stern of each barge a trough, built of mud bricks, formed the cooking range, and it amused me to see that they had put on about half a cord of wood for cooking purposes, to last during the trip to assouan, (twelve days) and this at once impressed me with the difference between the value of fuel in this country and in our own. there were thirteen gangs with their foremen on the barges and three gangs with foremen on the steamer. we found the nile river water of good taste but muddy and we generally left it standing for an hour to settle. a funny sight was presented by a cow and a small camel harnessed to a plough. a stick crooked suitably by nature was laid over both necks and tied round each and a native rope was run from the yoke to a stick, also crooked to suit the purpose by nature, used as plough, scratching about two inches deep and three inches wide, at a speed as i judged of one acre per week. another unusual thing was to see the crops in several stages of growth at the same time in adjoining patches, from sowing to quarter grown, half grown and ripe crops. this is one of the consequences of the nubians depending upon the overflow of the nile to fertilize their soil. directly the river begins to fall they commence to sow their seed in the mud, it leaves behind, and as the water recedes they follow it up with the sowing. the crop farthest from the river of course gets the start. [illustration: a dahabeah.] [illustration: raising water on the nile.] the next novel sight was the irrigation of the fields. to lift the water from the river, a frame is made by putting some cornstalks into the ground and putting clay round them to make posts, which are placed about six feet apart; the posts support a small stick, across which is laid a crooked pole, with about a dozen bends in it, that balances a mud basket on one end against a leather bucket on the other. the bucket holds about as much as our common well bucket, a man is continually filling from the river and emptying into a mud spout between the posts. the water is led off in a small mud conduit over the farm which is divided into sections, when one section is filled with water the stream is turned into another one. these waterworks are kept going day and night. once in a while one may see cattle power used for irrigation of the following old fashioned kind, the yoke is hitched to a primitive cog-wheel of about twelve feet in diameter, which works into a smaller wheel placed underneath it, the cattle walking over a bridge. the cogs are simply pins driven into the outside of each wheel. the shaft of the smaller wheel runs out over a ditch cut from the river and carries a large reel about eighteen feet in diameter over which two native ropes are laid to which are attached about forty earthen jars. the cattle here are about the same size as ours, but they have a lump on their back and their horns run straight back. the colour of most of these cattle is blueish. where the fertile strip of land is wide, canals are dug in curves to bring the water back near, to the sand mountains. the cattle feed along the river bank, which is left uncultivated for about twenty feet from the water, and i have seen a number of them of all kinds, feeding on this poor strip and never touch the rich crops alongside, although left to themselves and i was told that they were taught that way. the sheep look like dogs dragging long tails on the ground and the dogs look much like the esquimaux dogs i have seen in manitoba. after seven or eight days travel we left the sand mountains and began to see rock on both sides, more particularly on the east bank the rock looked to me like plaster of paris. the natives quarried it and loaded it into small dibeers. "dibeers" are sailing crafts with a small cabin aft, whilst, "nuggars" are plain barges, with a very peculiar sail, the boom of which is rolled into the sail by way of furling the latter. i heard one blast go off and this being sunday, the th october, i made up my mind that the people here have no sundays. we passed some ruins on both shores, some appeared to be cut into the solid rock, which here is of a brownish colour. i could not tell what kind of rock but the courses varied from four to twenty feet as seen between the temples and they laid very even. the perpendicular seams were perfectly straight. the temples all faced the river. we also passed some immense figures, some standing, some sitting on chairs, some looking towards the river, some showing their profile, the highest of these i judged to be feet high. it was a pity that we could not get the slightest information from the egyptian crew with us, who seemed very averse to us, so much so, that i could not even learn their names far less any of their language. about this time some of the boys gave out that we would be shown the exact spot, where moses was picked up, but nobody knew exactly. our fleet did not run at nights, and it always happened that we halted in some uninhabited place, where nothing could be learned. some of the cities we passed presented a beautiful appearance from the distance, temples, high towers and so forth all looking very white, some mud houses were two or three stories high and of blue mud color. at one place, the only one point where we stopped in the day time, i went ashore to see what was called a sacred tree. a young christian egyptian of about sixteen years, whose acquaintance i made here told me that the sacred tree had great healing power, and sick people would come and ask its help, and when cured would drive a nail into the tree as a memorial. the tree showed a great number of nails of all patterns, and it must not be forgotten that nails here are even scarcer than money. it is a live tree and nothing nice to look at, it rises from the ground about four feet straight and then lays over horizontally for about thirty feet, after which it turns up and throws out branches. the trunk is about one foot through and the bark is similar to that of our large thorn tree. returning to the fleet i saw a young man lying in the dust on the side of the road, with his mouth open, his tongue out and his eyes, in fact his whole face a mass of flies, a horrible sight. a little girl bent over him, pointed to the sick and looked at me. my young christian bade me come away saying it was a case of leprosy. my friend showed me a mosque and a bazaar. coming out of the bazaar i noticed three men acting very queerly, walking around in front of a mud hut, talking dolefully or murmuring and constantly looking to the ground, and was told that there was a death in the family. my guide saw me back to the fleet and on the road asked me for a book, and i gave him one. his people lived in the place. the fertile strips along the river here are much narrower than in lower egypt, sometimes one-eighth of a mile wide sometimes only about two hundred feet, but to judge from the crops as well as the cattle and the food the latter find, the soil must be better. i should say the river is from a third of a mile to half a mile wide on the average from assiout to assouan, and very shallow, as the steamer, which drew about five feet of water, got aground often. we reached assouan at a. m. on the st, not without regret at having had to pass such famous places as thebes and luxor. we camped quite close to thebes and there were guides waiting with candles to show us over the place but we had no time to spare and so were not permitted to wander about. we landed two miles below the city at assouan the lower end of the track of the seven mile railway to shellal passing behind assouan. this railway is built to portage over the first cataract. opposite assouan, we passed the camp of the black watch. at shellal, a steamer with forty whalers in tow received us and started at once towards wady halfa. we camped two or three miles above shellal and were therefore deprived of any sight of the first cataract. our fifty-six caughnawaga indians were given eight boats, which were towed four abreast and ten long, this was the first time we got into the boats. we soon made use of the awning provided for each. the country along the river here is all rock and as i was told, back of the rock all sand. doctor neilson informed me that we were now about crossing into the tropics. the natives here are considerably darker than the egyptians and better built men. they were dressed similarly to the egyptians. a navy pinnace overhauled us here bringing abbe bouchard who had stayed behind in cairo. we went a good distance before we again met cultivated land and then only in strips, some of which were not twenty feet wide and they were utilized every inch. the natives follow the falling river with cultivation, as i discovered when coming back a little over three months afterwards, when i found crops of beans from one inch to a foot long, growing where there had been water. we passed miles of barren rock and then again narrow strips and altogether the country was poorer than upper egypt. occasionally we would see a few date trees along the river and now and then a small mud-built village. irrigation was going on the same as below, both by hand and by ox-power. we reached korosko on the th of october the steamer was run with the bow on the shore, but the boats towed too far from shore for us to get out. korosko is a small fort occupied by both english and egyptian soldiers. the river banks around are fifteen to twenty feet high. from my whaler i could see a small building near the beach with a sign over the door marked "poste keden" post office. we left korosko after an hour's stoppage and beached in good season, to give us a chance to cook supper. at every night's camp we unavoidably did more or less damage to the crops, which must have caused serious loss to these poor people by whom, as i said before, every inch of the spare soil is utilized. we got under way at sunrise. the river up this far from assouan is a series of very straight stretches from five to fifteen miles in length with no difficult bends and good for navigation everywhere. the current varys from three to five miles an hour. during this day i noticed a small screw tug bearing a foresail coming after us and trying hard to reach us. it proved to be a press steamer having on board the correspondent of an english paper, an engineer and a native pilot. they ran short of coal and wanted a tow, and all the coal they had left when reaching us, a man could have put in his vest pocket. we beached this night on the west side close to a temple, cut, as it appeared to me into the solid rock. being called to receive stores and cholera belts for the men i was prevented from joining an exploring party, that set out, and was told, when the boys came back, that i had missed something worth seeing. i learnt afterwards that this place was abu-simbel, where there are two temples cut out of the rock which are said to be the oldest specimens of architecture in the world. the boys said they had seen stone figures of men with toes three feet long and i dare say they were not far out, as i learnt there are four seated figures in front of the largest temple supposed to represent rameses the great, which are sixty five feet in height. i was sorry that i had to stay behind to look after the stores. talking about cholera belts, everybody engaged in the british service in egypt had to wear these belts, soldiers and voyageurs were supplied with them and required to wear them. they are strips of flannel twelve or fifteen inches wide, and i was told by soldiers who had served in egypt some time, that they are very effective in preventing cholera and dysentery. [illustration: boat for the nile expedition under sail.] [illustration: boat for the nile expedition showing awning.] next day, sunday the th at p. m. we arrived at wady halfa. the weather was still the same as ever since we landed at alexandria, not a cloud, not uncomfortably warm, but warm enough. a steam tug came out from wady halfa and brought orders for us to proceed as far as the river was navigable for the steamer. this brought us about four miles above wady halfa where the tow was disbanded. the boats then proceeded another mile and we camped. during this mile we had the first opportunity to work the boats, (still all light) and that evening the opinions about them varied greatly. no sooner were our tents pitched than lord wolseley arrived. he shook hands with some, exchanged a few words with our commander, colonel denison, and was off again. we found here about a hundred whalers waiting for us. we were at the foot of the second cataract and the following morning were ordered to take the light boats up the cataract to the first naval camp, about three miles distant, to make one trip and if possible two. seven men took one boat and all the crews made two trips, some getting through early, some late. the first trip i made, i took a different channel from those who started before. i stepped the two masts with which the boat was provided and used the sails and the six oars only, the wind being as usual from the north. we needed all our resources but we reached the camp in good time. we walked back the three miles took another boat and tried the channel generally taken, it being apparently the shortest route. i had to use the tow-line at one place where there was a "gate" or channel, as we say in canada, with about three feet of a fall, about eighteen feet wide and a good standing place to tow from. right there was stationed our acquaintance, the reporter, in his little tug moored above the gate. one of the voyageurs while wading must have stepped into some seam, he jumped quickly back into his boat, leaving behind his moccasin and said he was bitten by a crocodile, which all of us were kind enough to believe and we advised him not to wade any more. all had accomplished their task in the evening and come back to our camp. soon afterwards general sir evelyn wood arrived and went towards colonel denison's tent. i heard my name called by my officer and went before the general who demanded the number of my men and wanted to see them. getting the men in line, the general asked me if they spoke english and i said they spoke enough for boating purposes, but no more. the general then left. after supper i was informed by my officer that i had to take thirty-five men with me and go about a hundred miles up the river. here commences the second railway of the river route, about thirty miles long, and the first train on the following morning brought lord wolseley on his way to the front. the second train had on board, col. alleyne, lord avonmore, capt. moore, lieut. perry and lieut. c. r. orde. this train took me and my men on and stopped at gemai where we found several boats which had been portaged on cars. we pitched tents and did not leave until o'clock the next morning, october th. i picked crews as nearly equal as i could, with a captain to each and started with six boats, nearly light, only the five officers and their luggage on board. i had the honor to start in boat no. with col. alleyne on board, the officers taking a boat each of different numbers, reached sarras about p. m. a distance of eighteen miles. the river here is very narrow, in some places about a thousand feet and the current very swift. i had to get a line out only once. at sarras each boat took on nearly two tons of ammunition and stores, also additional passengers. we proceeded two miles up and camped. there were many islands and rocks both in sight and sunken, but room enough to go anywhere. the shores are barren rock. starting next day with a light breeze, i soon found that i wanted more wind to proceed under sail as the current grew swifter and my boat had now on board, besides col. alleyne, his servant, his interpreter, one corporal and one native swimmer, then myself with five men and about two tons of freight. this was the time to find out what we could do with our boats, the north wind had freshened, which gave us more speed and with the help of five good oars we dodged the swift currents, catching eddies and after two hours trial the captains congratulated each other upon being masters of the situation. we soon began to race, each captain using his own judgment as to which channel to take, which gave each a chance to be ahead or behind according to his luck. when i signalled for dinner all headed for shore and it was here that louis capitaine was so unaccountably lost, within sixty feet from shore. louis had the bow oar in peter january's boat and he rose when nearing shore. while standing in the bow he fell over, the headway of the boat made the distance a hundred feet before he was seen to rise. lieut. perry threw a life-preserver and ordered the arab swimmer, which this boat carried, to assist him, the swimmer jumped immediately and swam towards the spot but louis disappeared before assistance reached him. my boat was about sixty yards behind peter's boat coming up in the eddy behind a rock. when striking the current i noticed louis' helmet and the arab swimmer. we went ashore to prepare dinner and i really believe that colonel alleyne, the officer in charge of this convoy, felt so badly about this accident, that he did not take anything. he hired natives to search for the body and give it decent burial, if found. after dinner we proceeded with one man short. the water not being so bad we made the semnah cataract that afternoon. this cataract was thought the worst in the whole route. colonel alleyne showed me up to the gate and said "now everything is yours." it must be understood that this gate does by no means reach across the river. the river is about feet wide here and the gate situated between the east shore and an island is about twenty feet wide. not being sure of the water i tried a light boat first. i took boat no. through without any trouble, but would not trust the full load on any boat. we all lightened somewhat and passed the six boats through with tow lines inside of an hour. the freight we had left was portaged by camels. we reloaded and started under sail four miles up in smooth water and camped. colonel alleyne held an inquest that night on louis capitaine's death and despatched a man to the nearest telegraph station with the news of his death. a few weeks after this despatch was sent, colonel kennedy showed me a copy of the ottawa _free press_, in which the _free press_ made free indeed reporting captain louis jackson as drowned. all the captains appeared pleased with their boats, talking about who made the best run and each boasting to have the best boat. from this cataract to the next one above, at ambigol, is counted seventeen miles, which stretch proved much the same as below semnah cataract; plenty of dodging and crossing the stream to get the side of the river with the lesser current, the boats being such good travellers and answering their helms so well with a stiff breeze, we found ourselves in a genuine boatman's paradise. in spite of the free wind we had all day, we had to get lines out and track several times. we camped on an island about a mile below ambigol cataract. in the evening the captains argued as to which of them had run the most on sandbanks. these sand shoals are formed behind large rocks in a manner never seen in our own waters, and it was strange to notice that like situated rocks would not alike accumulate sand, some had shoals behind them and some had none, still all showed the same eddy on the water surface, and the water being muddy we could not tell which to trust and so gave them all wider berths in future. [illustration: cataract of ambigol.] the following day, the st of november we reached the post of ambigol about a. m. we found this cataract different from semnah cataract. this has no "gate" but a very crooked channel, swift current and very bad tracking. it required the combined force of thirty-five men to pull one boat with its full load. the cataract is one mile long and the roughest part is at the foot and at the head. it was in this mile of the route that afterwards three white men were lost. we got through this cataract about noon and cooked dinner just above it. it must be remembered that the route was entirely unknown to us all and that we had to find our channels and often did not take the best one. from this out i ordered my captains to take a different channel each, there being so many, so as to find the best one for future purposes. the boats being so equally matched, we could easily tell who had the wrong channel, for he was soon left astern. the officer in charge, col. alleyne, who is himself an experienced boatman, was so well pleased with our progress that he never interfered but left it all to us. it must also not be forgotten that the boys had been forty days travelling, doing no hard work, before we took the boats and by this time their hands were very sore. the rocky shores were so bold that poles could only be of use in keeping off and it was impossible to assist by shoving ahead. to say a word about the boats now, we all had come to the conclusion that the boats and outfit were well devised for the service so far. we had tried them now in various ways; we had sailed against a swift current with a beam wind, where a flat bottom would have had to be towed with lines, and the more this towing could be avoided the better it was on account of the fearful track along the shore. the boats were sufficiently strong for all necessary handling and in case of accident, they were light enough to be brought ashore and turned over for repairs without extra help. more difficult it was to find a good place on the shore where to haul a boat out. the boats were provided with two sails each, a sample of which (sails) i have brought home with me. we camped next on tangur island and the following day the nd of november, we started to face the tangur cataract. the wind being very strong in our favor we tried to dodge behind the many islands, but had to give up sailing in many places and get the lines out. we overcame this cataract without much difficulty. above the cataract it was considered smooth water for about one mile when a very bad stretch was met with about half a mile long. the river here is about quarter of a mile wide, and full of large rocks between which the water came down very "wicked" in channels of about sixty feet wide and some wider. i again ordered each captain to pick his own channel, and having a strong breeze and all oars working we managed to get above. in this place i discovered by experience that what we had found to be the best channel on that day, was the worst a few days after. the water falling six inches to a foot every day, continually changed the rapids, making a bad place better and a good place bad. above this cataract we had thirteen miles of what we called smooth water with a current of from three to five miles an hour. i had noticed in coming up that the country was inhabited, having seen a few arabs now and then. we reached the foot of akaska cataract that evening. on landing, the boat, which carried lord avonmore, got stove in when his lordship took the tools and proved himself quite a carpenter. here also were seen some useful stretches of beach under cultivation, but these were getting few and far between. next day, the rd november, we faced the akaska cataract, we were getting used to the river and therefore this cataract proved to be the easiest so far. between akaska and the foot of dal cataract there are nine miles of good navigation, and the greater part of the beach is useful, this stretch looking altogether better and less wild. we reached the foot of dal about noon. dal cataract is said to be five miles long. in this cataract i saw for the first time, small willow trees on the islands. we went about half a mile up with sails and oars, when we had to track for quite a distance. in this rapid it happened for the first time that we came to a halt, not knowing how to proceed. we had crossed on to an island not having water enough in the little channel between this island and the shore, but found at the head of the island the water rough and the current too strong to pull against and could not proceed without a line to the mainshore. it was here that the foresight of colonel alleyne, proved of value. our arab swimmer managed to carry the tow line to the shore, where he made fast and we pulled ourselves up, carrying the end of the tow line of the next boat, which carried the next line and so on until the six boats were up. half a mile further on we came to a place where it was impossible to proceed on this side of the river, there being no place for the men to stand and pull, the water made a kind of a fall, and it was altogether a singular place. we had to try the other side of the river. in crossing we met with many rocks and one island which offered so many favorable eddies, that we rather gained than lost ground. the river here is about three-quarters of a mile wide. on the west shore we found good tracking for about a quarter of a mile, when again the services of our swimmer were required. finding ourselves on an island, colonel alleyne being an experienced boatman said we had done enough for that day and we camped. on tuesday, november th, we started again with sails and oars. the river being full of islands we had not the same difficulty as the day before, and we reached sarkametto about a. m., well pleased to find ourselves at the head of these last four cataracts and congratulated ourselves on having brought the first six boats of the expedition so far. next morning i received orders to go down with four boats, which order rather disappointed me, as i had expected to go through to dongola. i found out that our trip was a trial only. i took all hands into the four boats, the officers also coming aboard, and left at a. m. now came the tug of war, the shooting of all the cataracts. coming up we used all eddies, now we had to avoid them, coming up also if unable to proceed we could draw back and try another channel, now, everything depended on quick judgment and prompt action, the more so as keel boats are not considered fit for rapid work. i ordered my captains to follow at such distances as to give them time to avoid following should the leading boat err in the choice of channel. after shooting the dal cataract all safe i asked my captains how the boats behaved. all agreed that they were slow in answering their helm and required close watching. travelling between the cataracts against a strong headwind was slow work and we longed for the next one to get along faster. shooting the dal, there had been much dodging of rocks and islands, which gave some excitement. in akaska cataract we discovered a smooth, straight channel in the middle of the river and not very long. this shooting of the rapids was a surprise to the egyptian soldiers, a number of whom were stationed at every cataract. the natives came rushing out of their huts with their children, goats and dogs and stood on the beach to see the north american indian boatmen. i had more leisure now to look round. i have not seen the place yet where i would care to settle down. the next cataract is tangur, which i considered the most dangerous of all for shooting. the river is wide and there are many islands and rocks, the rocks are high, and there are many channels to choose from, and as i had noticed coming up, many of these channels are too crooked for shooting especially with a keel boat, all of which makes this rapid, a dangerous one to shoot. the rocks hide each other and if you clear the first one you find yourself close on the other. a narrow escape i had on the east side of tangur island. the boat following me had taken a sheer and was obliged to take another channel, which having a swifter current than the one i had taken, brought this boat up with me below the rock so close as nearly to cause a disaster. colonel alleyne ordered lunch near the place, where the steamer gizeh was wrecked. we could see her high and dry on the rock, where she had laid some time as i was told. after lunch we started for ambigol cataract. on our way we met several large nuggars with their peculiar sails, going at good speed. these nuggars never track but go up with a strong breeze. we shot ambigol cataract between three and four o'clock and met five whalers at the foot of it. colonel alleyne ordered me to go ashore to speak to them. they were manned by royal engineers with foreman graham and his voyageurs. we started again downwards and made semnah cataract after sunset shortly before dark. shooting semnah gate, finished our day's work and we camped. we had made this day miles. dal cataract miles. from the foot of dal to the head of akaska " akaska cataract " from the foot of akaska to tangur " tangur cataract " from the foot of tangur to ambigol " ambigol cataract " from the foot of ambigol to semnah " semnah cataract " --- " this day's experience decided my opinion about the boats. many of my men had been portaging on the ottawa for different lumber firms and all agreed with me, that whilst the nile river boats would have been of no use on the ottawa, they could not be improved upon for the nile service on account of the nature of the river. for the ascents of the river as well as the cataracts, the sailing qualities of the boats were all important, and when towed by line the keel would give a chance to shoot out into the current to get round rocks, where a flat bottom would have followed the line broadside and fetched up against the rock. in shooting the cataracts the boats did not answer the helm as quickly as would flat bottoms, but this drawback was not sufficient to condemn the keel. next day, thursday, november th, we ran some more swift water to sarras, nine miles below foot of semnah. we met there thirty whalers with troops and stores ready to ascend. colonel denison asked me to give him one man to act as pilot, so i gave him mathias hill, an iroquois. colonel denison went up with this fleet. most of the canadian voyageurs asked me how i found the rapids. i told them that i had no trouble, considering it unadvisable to give a minute description, as i had already discovered how the fast falling water daily changed the appearance of the river, and what was a good place for me to go up, would be bad now, whilst a bad place might be better. i was well aware that these voyageurs would have more trouble than i had. they had not only larger loads but soldier crews, whilst i had my caughnawaga boys with whom i had worked from youth up and who promptly caught at a sign from me, while the soldiers had to be talked to, and, although having the best of will, could not always comprehend the situation. after thirty whalers had started, i was informed by lord avon more of the order to camp. next day the th november, another fleet of twenty-eight boats started, for which lord avonmore asked me a pilot. i gave him john bruce of st. regis. the following day, the th, lord avonmore requested of me seven men and a foreman, to go with him up to the dal cataract to be stationed there, owing probably, as i thought to myself, that col. alleyne considered the dal the most difficult. i pointed out peter canoe as the most experienced boatman i had, and as he does not speak english, james deer went as their interpreter. i received orders for myself to go down with the rest of my men to gemai. at gemai i found twenty-three light boats manned by dongolese. placing a captain in each boat we started, but were disappointed to find that these men had never seen a boat nor used an oar. with the help of the usual north wind we managed to ascend in good time to sarras. on the way up we had to teach one man to steer and then go round to each man and teach him to row. neither understanding one word of the other's language, this was a terrible task. i had however, been long enough in contact with english military discipline by this time, to know that there was no backing out. we loaded at sarras and proceeded up with lieut. c. r. orde as commander of this convoy, who had an interpreter with him. without the latter it would have been impossible to get along; as it was, some accidents could not be avoided. our new commander being an experienced boatman as well as a good carpenter, and a gentleman we managed to keep up with the other fleets. to give an idea of the trouble we had, i need only say that these dongolese generally understood just the contrary of what they were ordered to do. they would pull hard when asked to stop or stop pulling at some critical place when hard pulling was required. lieut. orde as well as myself were continually patching boats on account of these fellows. we made the nine miles from sarras to semnah in just six days, whereas we had travelled before at the rate of seventy miles in five days. at semnah lieut. orde reported to commander hammill, r. n., in charge of semnah cataract, commander hammill informed me that my plan of ascending semnah gate was adopted by all the others, he also asked me if i thought i should be able to make boatmen of the dongolese, i told him i was discouraged and the only consolation i had was that my dongolese convoy was still travelling as fast as the other fleets in spite of my strict orders always to give the right of way to boats manned by soldiers and to avoid retarding them in the cataracts. reaching ambigol november th, during this day i was requested to assist in pulling off a steam pinnace which had run on the rocks and filled, blocking the small channel for steamers to ascend. i having dongolese with my caughnawaga boys and about egyptian soldiers they parted the hawser on the first pull, while getting another hawser col. butler arrived in a whaler from sarras with a crew of kroomen, with chief prince of manitoba as captain. col. butler ordered us to abandon the wreck and explore another channel on the opposite side of the river, i unloaded my boat manned by caughnawagas and with lieut. orde, went across, after half a day's search found a very crooked channel which afterwards or steamers ascended successfully. at tangur it was found advisable to split the convoy, major crofton taking boats and lieut. orde the rest. going up some minor cataract with eight dongolese on the line, and one young fellow, a little brighter than the rest, in the boat with me and having just passed the worst place, a couple of the men ashore got to fighting and the rest let go the line either to part them or to join and i was left at the mercy of the rapid for a variety. these men were, as i said before, entirely unused to boats. they are all excellent swimmers and able to cross the river at almost any place. when making long distances they make use of the goat skin bottles they have for carrying water, scolding was of no use, they neither understood nor cared. i may here mention another peculiarity of theirs. i had noticed many scars on their bodies, but could not account for it, until one of them fell sick when the other cut his skin to bleed him, and filled the cut with sand. this convoy carried about sixty tons of freight, all of which was brought safely to the foot of dal cataract and the convoy was ordered downwards again as far as the head of ambigol cataract for reloading. as i could not trust the dongolese in shooting the rapids i manned the boats with my iroquois and made trips at each cataract, letting the dongolese walk. it was a grand sight to see so many boats on their way up, some sailing, some rowing, some tracking and some on shore patching up. we reached the head of ambigol, loaded up and started up stream. we made the foot of dal with less trouble on this trip, the dongolese having learned a great deal as well as i and my men knowing now some words of their language. on arriving at dal, i found that this place had become a very busy scene. many tents were pitched among which were a commissariat, a post office and a number of officers tents. lord avonmore had come down from the middle of the dal cataract, next to his tent was that of colonel burnaby, then major mann, near the beach was sir george arthur, who had arrived that day from below, commanding a convoy of boats. on the south end of the little colony were lord charles beresford, col. alleyne and major spaight. col. alleyne congratulated me on my success with the dongolese. i returned for another trip, arriving back here on the th of december. the same officers were still here. the next morning col. alleyne ordered me to camp on the beach with my men and said we had done enough of lower cataract service. at the same time the dongolese, that had been with me still in charge of major crofton, were sent down to try a trip by themselves. it proved lucky for these men that the nile does not scare them, for they had to swim for it on more than one occasion. however, they proved efficient in the end to the satisfaction of the officers. while lying on my oars i had an opportunity to admire the passing army, both officers and men, and their discipline. i did not see one private soldier who looked more than thirty years of age. the soldiers showed signs of the hard work they had done in getting up the nile. their hands were blistered and their clothes worn out, but they were as cheerful and enthusiastic as ever. my orders now were to assist the officer in charge with my iroquois in passing boats up the dal cataract, until the last boat was passed. i had all my men collected here except four who were stationed above. during this time i saw colonel burnaby depart on his camels, lord avonmore in his boat, my old commander col. alleyne in his boat and afterwards sir evelyn wood on horse-back, also our canadian officer col. kennedy, surgeon, major neilson and col. grove. the river had now fallen so much that there were hundreds of rocks in sight, in front of this station, and crocodiles could be seen by the dozen, sunning themselves on the rocks, major mann and abbe bouchard with the help of a powerful glass, pronounced one brute to be twenty-five feet long. the last boat that i assisted in passing was on the th of january and on the th i received orders to start for wady halfa, which brought my active service in the egyptian expedition to a close. we arrived at wady halfa on the th of january where i found captains aumond and mcrae and nearly two hundred voyageurs. at wady halfa i witnessed the military funeral of a gordon highlander, which was a novel sight to me. one dark night, long after the retiring bugle had sounded, an alarm gun was fired. i went out of my tent and to my astonishment i found the soldiers already prepared to fight. no lights had been used and it was a mystery to me how the men could get ready in so short a time. i could see that in a real attack, the enemy would not get much advantage over these men. i must mention here a curious sight i witnessed at the funeral of an egyptian, before lowering the body into the grave they put a small coin into his mouth, and i found out, that their belief is, that the dead have to cross a river to get into the "happy hunting grounds" and i concluded that the ferryman, not ferrying on "tick" they had provided their comrade with his fare. before leaving wady halfa, i had the satisfaction to see two of my iroquois carry off the first prizes for running at the united service sports, held under the patronage of the station commandant col. duncan and the officers. we left wady halfa on the th january, arriving at cairo, february th, where an opportunity was given us to visit the following places of interest: kass el-nil bridge, kass-el-nil barracks, abdin square and palace, the mosque sultan-hassan, the citadel, the mosque mohamet-ali, the native bazaar, the esbediah gardens, and finally gizeh and the pyramids. we sailed from alexandria on february th, , well pleased with what we had seen in the land of the pharos and proud to have shown the world that the dwellers on the banks of the nile, after navigating it for centuries, could still learn something of the craft from the iroquois indians of north america and the canadian voyageurs of many races. i cannot conclude without expressing my satisfaction at the handsome treatment accorded us by the british government, and should our services be of assistance in the proposed fall campaign in egypt, they will be freely given. we were allowed just double the amount of clothing stipulated in the contract, the overcoats being given to us at malta on our way home. judging by the stores we conveyed up the nile the army will not fare badly, we carried armour's beef, bacon, preserved meat, mutton, vegetables, ebswurt's crushed peas for soup, pickles, pepper, salt, vinegar, hard biscuit, cabin biscuit, flour, oatmeal, rice, sugar, tea, coffee, cheese, jam, medicine, lime juice, soap, matches, tobacco. whoever designed the boats struck the right dimensions perfectly. each boat was made to carry ten days' rations, including everything in the above list, for a hundred men, ten men with kits and accoutrements, and about a half ton of ammunition. finis. transcriber's notes: minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note. some illustrations have been moved to avoid splitting paragraphs and make smoother reading. obvious errors have been corrected. italic text in the original has been enclosed by '_'. text file produced by ronald j. goodden the river war an account of the reconquest of the sudan ( edition) by winston s. churchill contents: chapter i. the rebellion of the mahdi ii. the fate of the envoy iii. the dervish empire iv. the years of preparation v. the beginning of war vi. firket vii. the recovery of the dongola province viii. the desert railway ix. abu hamed x. berber xi. reconnaissance xii. the battle of the atbara xiii. the grand advance xiv. the operations of the first of september xv. the battle of omdurman xvi. the fall of the city xvii. 'the fashoda incident' xviii on the blue nile xix. the end of the khalifa appendix ____________________________________________________________________ the soudan >>> to illustrate the military operations <<< - |* wady halfa / (the nile) / _/ | \_ / | __* abu hamed | _/ \ dongola *\ _/ \ suakin * \ merawi / \ \ */ \ \_ _ / \ berber \* /\__ (the atbara river) _/ \_ metemma */ \ / | omdurman */ khartoum /*\_ | \_ | \_ (the blue nile) \ \ kordofan \ | (the white nile) ____________________________________________________________________ chapter i: the rebellion of the mahdi the north-eastern quarter of the continent of africa is drained and watered by the nile. among and about the headstreams and tributaries of this mighty river lie the wide and fertile provinces of the egyptian soudan. situated in the very centre of the land, these remote regions are on every side divided from the seas by five hundred miles of mountain, swamp, or desert. the great river is their only means of growth, their only channel of progress. it is by the nile alone that their commerce can reach the outer markets, or european civilisation can penetrate the inner darkness. the soudan is joined to egypt by the nile, as a diver is connected with the surface by his air-pipe. without it there is only suffocation. aut nilus, aut nihil! the town of khartoum, at the confluence of the blue and white niles, is the point on which the trade of the south must inevitably converge. it is the great spout through which the merchandise collected from a wide area streams northwards to the mediterranean shore. it marks the extreme northern limit of the fertile soudan. between khartoum and assuan the river flows for twelve hundred miles through deserts of surpassing desolation. at last the wilderness recedes and the living world broadens out again into egypt and the delta. it is with events that have occurred in the intervening waste that these pages are concerned. the real soudan, known to the statesman and the explorer, lies far to the south--moist, undulating, and exuberant. but there is another soudan, which some mistake for the true, whose solitudes oppress the nile from the egyptian frontier to omdurman. this is the soudan of the soldier. destitute of wealth or future, it is rich in history. the names of its squalid villages are familiar to distant and enlightened peoples. the barrenness of its scenery has been drawn by skilful pen and pencil. its ample deserts have tasted the blood of brave men. its hot, black rocks have witnessed famous tragedies. it is the scene of the war. this great tract, which may conveniently be called 'the military soudan,' stretches with apparent indefiniteness over the face of the continent. level plains of smooth sand--a little rosier than buff, a little paler than salmon--are interrupted only by occasional peaks of rock--black, stark, and shapeless. rainless storms dance tirelessly over the hot, crisp surface of the ground. the fine sand, driven by the wind, gathers into deep drifts, and silts among the dark rocks of the hills, exactly as snow hangs about an alpine summit; only it is a fiery snow, such as might fall in hell. the earth burns with the quenchless thirst of ages, and in the steel-blue sky scarcely a cloud obstructs the unrelenting triumph of the sun. through the desert flows the river--a thread of blue silk drawn across an enormous brown drugget; and even this thread is brown for half the year. where the water laps the sand and soaks into the banks there grows an avenue of vegetation which seems very beautiful and luxuriant by contrast with what lies beyond. the nile, through all the three thousand miles of its course vital to everything that lives beside it, is never so precious as here. the traveller clings to the strong river as to an old friend, staunch in the hour of need. all the world blazes, but here is shade. the deserts are hot, but the nile is cool. the land is parched, but here is abundant water. the picture painted in burnt sienna is relieved by a grateful flash of green. yet he who had not seen the desert or felt the sun heavily on his shoulders would hardly admire the fertility of the riparian scrub. unnourishing reeds and grasses grow rank and coarse from the water's edge. the dark, rotten soil between the tussocks is cracked and granulated by the drying up of the annual flood. the character of the vegetation is inhospitable. thorn-bushes, bristling like hedgehogs and thriving arrogantly, everywhere predominate and with their prickly tangles obstruct or forbid the path. only the palms by the brink are kindly, and men journeying along the nile must look often towards their bushy tops, where among the spreading foliage the red and yellow glint of date clusters proclaims the ripening of a generous crop, and protests that nature is not always mischievous and cruel. the banks of the nile, except by contrast with the desert, display an abundance of barrenness. their characteristic is monotony. their attraction is their sadness. yet there is one hour when all is changed. just before the sun sets towards the western cliffs a delicious flush brightens and enlivens the landscape. it is as though some titanic artist in an hour of inspiration were retouching the picture, painting in dark purple shadows among the rocks, strengthening the lights on the sands, gilding and beautifying everything, and making the whole scene live. the river, whose windings make it look like a lake, turns from muddy brown to silver-grey. the sky from a dull blue deepens into violet in the west. everything under that magic touch becomes vivid and alive. and then the sun sinks altogether behind the rocks, the colors fade out of the sky, the flush off the sands, and gradually everything darkens and grows grey--like a man's cheek when he is bleeding to death. we are left sad and sorrowful in the dark, until the stars light up and remind us that there is always something beyond. in a land whose beauty is the beauty of a moment, whose face is desolate, and whose character is strangely stern, the curse of war was hardly needed to produce a melancholy effect. why should there be caustic plants where everything is hot and burning? in deserts where thirst is enthroned, and where the rocks and sand appeal to a pitiless sky for moisture, it was a savage trick to add the mockery of mirage. the area multiplies the desolation. there is life only by the nile. if a man were to leave the river, he might journey westward and find no human habitation, nor the smoke of a cooking fire, except the lonely tent of a kabbabish arab or the encampment of a trader's caravan, till he reached the coast-line of america. or he might go east and find nothing but sand and sea and sun until bombay rose above the horizon. the thread of fresh water is itself solitary in regions where all living things lack company. in the account of the river war the nile is naturally supreme. it is the great melody that recurs throughout the whole opera. the general purposing military operations, the statesman who would decide upon grave policies, and the reader desirous of studying the course and results of either, must think of the nile. it is the life of the lands through which it flows. it is the cause of the war: the means by which we fight; the end at which we aim. imagination should paint the river through every page in the story. it glitters between the palm-trees during the actions. it is the explanation of nearly every military movement. by its banks the armies camp at night. backed or flanked on its unfordable stream they offer or accept battle by day. to its brink, morning and evening, long lines of camels, horses, mules, and slaughter cattle hurry eagerly. emir and dervish, officer and soldier, friend and foe, kneel alike to this god of ancient egypt and draw each day their daily water in goatskin or canteen. without the river none would have started. without it none might have continued. without it none could ever have returned. all who journey on the nile, whether in commerce or war, will pay their tribute of respect and gratitude; for the great river has befriended all races and every age. through all the centuries it has performed the annual miracle of its flood. every year when the rains fall and the mountain snows of central africa begin to melt, the head-streams become torrents and the great lakes are filled to the brim. a vast expanse of low, swampy lands, crossed by secondary channels and flooded for many miles, regulates the flow, and by a sponge-like action prevents the excess of one year from causing the deficiency of the next. far away in egypt, prince, priest, and peasant look southwards with anxious attention for the fluctuating yet certain rise. gradually the flood begins. the bahr-el-ghazal from a channel of stagnant pools and marshes becomes a broad and navigable stream. the sobat and the atbara from dry watercourses with occasional pools, in which the fish and crocodiles are crowded, turn to rushing rivers. but all this is remote from egypt. after its confluence with the atbara no drop of water reaches the nile, and it flows for seven hundred miles through the sands or rushes in cataracts among the rocks of the nubian desert. nevertheless, in spite of the tremendous diminution in volume caused by the dryness of the earth and air and the heat of the sun--all of which drink greedily--the river below assuan is sufficiently great to supply nine millions of people with as much water as their utmost science and energies can draw, and yet to pour into the mediterranean a low-water surplus current of , cubic feet per second. nor is its water its only gift. as the nile rises its complexion is changed. the clear blue river becomes thick and red, laden with the magic mud that can raise cities from the desert sand and make the wilderness a garden. the geographer may still in the arrogance of science describe the nile as 'a great, steady-flowing river, fed by the rains of the tropics, controlled by the existence of a vast head reservoir and several areas of repose, and annually flooded by the accession of a great body of water with which its eastern tributaries are flushed' [encyclopaedia britannica]; but all who have drunk deeply of its soft yet fateful waters--fateful, since they give both life and death--will understand why the old egyptians worshipped the river, nor will they even in modern days easily dissociate from their minds a feeling of mystic reverence. south of khartoum and of 'the military soudan' the land becomes more fruitful. the tributaries of the nile multiply the areas of riparian fertility. a considerable rainfall, increasing as the equator is approached, enables the intervening spaces to support vegetation and consequently human life. the greater part of the country is feverish and unhealthy, nor can europeans long sustain the attacks of its climate. nevertheless it is by no means valueless. on the east the province of sennar used to produce abundant grain, and might easily produce no less abundant cotton. westward the vast territories of kordofan and darfur afford grazing-grounds to a multitude of cattle, and give means of livelihood to great numbers of baggara or cow-herd arabs, who may also pursue with activity and stratagem the fleet giraffe and the still fleeter ostrich. to the south-east lies bahr-el-ghazal, a great tract of country occupied by dense woods and plentifully watered. further south and nearer the equator the forests and marshes become exuberant with tropical growths, and the whole face of the land is moist and green. amid groves of gigantic trees and through plains of high waving grass the stately elephant roams in herds which occasionally number four hundred, hardly ever disturbed by a well-armed hunter. the ivory of their tusks constitutes the wealth of the equatorial province. so greatly they abound that emin pasha is provoked to complain of a pest of these valuable pachyderms [life of emin pasha, vol.i chapter ix.]: and although they are only assailed by the natives with spear and gun, no less than twelve thousand hundredweight of ivory has been exported in a single year [ibid.] all other kinds of large beasts known to man inhabit these obscure retreats. the fierce rhinoceros crashes through the undergrowth. among the reeds of melancholy swamps huge hippopotami, crocodiles, and buffaloes prosper and increase. antelope of every known and many unclassified species; serpents of peculiar venom; countless millions of birds, butterflies, and beetles are among the offspring of prolific nature. and the daring sportsman who should survive his expedition would not fail to add to the achievements of science and the extent of natural history as well as to his own reputation. the human inhabitants of the soudan would not, but for their vices and misfortunes, be disproportioned in numbers to the fauna or less happy. war, slavery, and oppression have, however, afflicted them until the total population of the whole country does not exceed at the most liberal estimate three million souls. the huge area contains many differences of climate and conditions, and these have produced peculiar and diverse breeds of men. the soudanese are of many tribes, but two main races can be clearly distinguished: the aboriginal natives, and the arab settlers. the indigenous inhabitants of the country were negroes as black as coal. strong, virile, and simple-minded savages, they lived as we may imagine prehistoric men--hunting, fighting, marrying, and dying, with no ideas beyond the gratification of their physical desires, and no fears save those engendered by ghosts, witchcraft, the worship of ancestors, and other forms of superstition common among peoples of low development. they displayed the virtues of barbarism. they were brave and honest. the smallness of their intelligence excused the degradation of their habits. their ignorance secured their innocence. yet their eulogy must be short, for though their customs, language, and appearance vary with the districts they inhabit and the subdivisions to which they belong, the history of all is a confused legend of strife and misery, their natures are uniformly cruel and thriftless, and their condition is one of equal squalor and want. although the negroes are the more numerous, the arabs exceed in power. the bravery of the aboriginals is outweighed by the intelligence of the invaders and their superior force of character. during the second century of the mohammedan era, when the inhabitants of arabia went forth to conquer the world, one adventurous army struck south. the first pioneers were followed at intervals by continual immigrations of arabs not only from arabia but also across the deserts from egypt and marocco. the element thus introduced has spread and is spreading throughout the soudan, as water soaks into a dry sponge. the aboriginals absorbed the invaders they could not repel. the stronger race imposed its customs and language on the negroes. the vigour of their blood sensibly altered the facial appearance of the soudanese. for more than a thousand years the influence of mohammedanism, which appears to possess a strange fascination for negroid races, has been permeating the soudan, and, although ignorance and natural obstacles impede the progress of new ideas, the whole of the black race is gradually adopting the new religion and developing arab characteristics. in the districts of the north, where the original invaders settled, the evolution is complete, and the arabs of the soudan are a race formed by the interbreeding of negro and arab, and yet distinct from both. in the more remote and inaccessible regions which lie to the south and west the negro race remains as yet unchanged by the arab influence. and between these extremes every degree of mixture is to be found. in some tribes pure arabic is spoken, and prior to the rise of the mahdi the orthodox moslem faith was practised. in others arabic has merely modified the ancient dialects, and the mohammedan religion has been adapted to the older superstitions; but although the gap between the arab-negro and the negro-pure is thus filled by every intermediate blend, the two races were at an early date quite distinct. the qualities of mongrels are rarely admirable, and the mixture of the arab and negro types has produced a debased and cruel breed, more shocking because they are more intelligent than the primitive savages. the stronger race soon began to prey upon the simple aboriginals; some of the arab tribes were camel-breeders; some were goat-herds; some were baggaras or cow-herds. but all, without exception, were hunters of men. to the great slave-market at jedda a continual stream of negro captives has flowed for hundreds of years. the invention of gunpowder and the adoption by the arabs of firearms facilitated the traffic by placing the ignorant negroes at a further disadvantage. thus the situation in the soudan for several centuries may be summed up as follows: the dominant race of arab invaders was unceasingly spreading its blood, religion, customs, and language among the black aboriginal population, and at the same time it harried and enslaved them. the state of society that arose out of this may be easily imagined. the warlike arab tribes fought and brawled among themselves in ceaseless feud and strife. the negroes trembled in apprehension of capture, or rose locally against their oppressors. occasionally an important sheikh would effect the combination of many tribes, and a kingdom came into existence--a community consisting of a military class armed with guns and of multitudes of slaves, at once their servants and their merchandise, and sometimes trained as soldiers. the dominion might prosper viciously till it was overthrown by some more powerful league. all this was unheeded by the outer world, from which the soudan is separated by the deserts, and it seemed that the slow, painful course of development would be unaided and uninterrupted. but at last the populations of europe changed. another civilisation reared itself above the ruins of roman triumph and mohammedan aspiration--a civilisation more powerful, more glorious, but no less aggressive. the impulse of conquest which hurried the french and english to canada and the indies, which sent the dutch to the cape and the spaniards to peru, spread to africa and led the egyptians to the soudan. in the year mohammed ali, availing himself of the disorders alike as an excuse and an opportunity, sent his son ismail up the nile with a great army. the arab tribes, torn by dissension, exhausted by thirty years of general war, and no longer inspired by their neglected religion, offered a weak resistance. their slaves, having known the worst of life, were apathetic. the black aboriginals were silent and afraid. the whole vast territory was conquered with very little fighting, and the victorious army, leaving garrisons, returned in triumph to the delta. what enterprise that an enlightened community may attempt is more noble and more profitable than the reclamation from barbarism of fertile regions and large populations? to give peace to warring tribes, to administer justice where all was violence, to strike the chains off the slave, to draw the richness from the soil, to plant the earliest seeds of commerce and learning, to increase in whole peoples their capacities for pleasure and diminish their chances of pain--what more beautiful ideal or more valuable reward can inspire human effort? the act is virtuous, the exercise invigorating, and the result often extremely profitable. yet as the mind turns from the wonderful cloudland of aspiration to the ugly scaffolding of attempt and achievement, a succession of opposite ideas arises. industrious races are displayed stinted and starved for the sake of an expensive imperialism which they can only enjoy if they are well fed. wild peoples, ignorant of their barbarism, callous of suffering, careless of life but tenacious of liberty, are seen to resist with fury the philanthropic invaders, and to perish in thousands before they are convinced of their mistake. the inevitable gap between conquest and dominion becomes filled with the figures of the greedy trader, the inopportune missionary, the ambitious soldier, and the lying speculator, who disquiet the minds of the conquered and excite the sordid appetites of the conquerors. and as the eye of thought rests on these sinister features, it hardly seems possible for us to believe that any fair prospect is approached by so foul a path. from to egypt ruled the soudan. her rule was not kindly, wise, or profitable. its aim was to exploit, not to improve the local population. the miseries of the people were aggravated rather than lessened: but they were concealed. for the rough injustice of the sword there were substituted the intricacies of corruption and bribery. violence and plunder were more hideous, since they were cloaked with legality and armed with authority. the land was undeveloped and poor. it barely sustained its inhabitants. the additional burden of a considerable foreign garrison and a crowd of rapacious officials increased the severity of the economic conditions. scarcity was frequent. famines were periodical. corrupt and incapable governors-general succeeded each other at khartoum with bewildering rapidity. the constant changes, while they prevented the continuity of any wise policy, did not interrupt the misrule. with hardly any exceptions, the pashas were consistent in oppression. the success of their administration was measured by the ministries in egypt by the amount of money they could extort from the natives; among the officials in the soudan, by the number of useless offices they could create. there were a few bright examples of honest men, but these, by providing a contrast, only increased the discontents. the rule of egypt was iniquitous: yet it preserved the magnificent appearance of imperial dominion. the egyptian pro-consul lived in state at the confluence of the niles. the representatives of foreign powers established themselves in the city. the trade of the south converged upon khartoum. thither the subordinate governors, beys and mudirs, repaired at intervals to report the state of their provinces and to receive instructions. thither were sent the ivory of equatoria, the ostrich feathers of kordofan, gum from darfur, grain from sennar, and taxes collected from all the regions. strange beasts, entrapped in the swamps and forests, passed through the capital on their journey to cairo and europe. complex and imposing reports of revenue and expenditure were annually compiled. an elaborate and dignified correspondence was maintained between egypt and its great dependency. the casual observer, astonished at the unusual capacity for government displayed by an oriental people, was tempted to accept the famous assertion which nubar pasha put into the mouth of the khedive ismail: 'we are no longer in africa, but in europe.' yet all was a hateful sham ['the government of the egyptians in these far-off countries is nothing else but one of brigandage of the very worst description.'--colonel gordon in central africa, april , .] the arbitrary and excessive taxes were collected only at the point of the bayonet. if a petty chief fell into arrears, his neighbours were raised against him. if an arab tribe were recalcitrant, a military expedition was despatched. moreover, the ability of the arabs to pay depended on their success as slave-hunters. when there had been a good catch, the revenue profited. the egyptian government had joined the international league against the slave trade. they combined, however, indirectly but deliberately, to make money out of it. [egypt, no. , .] in the miserable, harassing warfare that accompanied the collection of taxes the viceregal commanders gained more from fraud than force. no subterfuge, no treachery, was too mean for them to adopt: no oath or treaty was too sacred for them to break. their methods were cruel, and if honour did not impede the achievement, mercy did not restrict the effects of their inglorious successes; and the effete administrators delighted to order their timid soldiery to carry out the most savage executions. the political methods and social style of the governors-general were imitated more or less exactly by the subordinate officials according to their degree in the provinces. since they were completely hidden from the eye of civilisation, they enjoyed a greater licence in their administration. as their education was inferior, so their habits became more gross. meanwhile the volcano on which they disported themselves was ominously silent. the arab tribes obeyed, and the black population cowered. the authority of a tyrannical government was supported by the presence of a worthless army. nearly forty thousand men were distributed among eight main and numerous minor garrisons. isolated in a roadless country by enormous distances and natural obstacles, and living in the midst of large savage populations of fanatical character and warlike habits, whose exasperation was yearly growing with their miseries, the viceregal forces might depend for their safety only on the skill of their officers, the excellence of their discipline, and the superiority of their weapons. but the egyptian officers were at that time distinguished for nothing but their public incapacity and private misbehaviour. the evil reputation of the soudan and its climate deterred the more educated or more wealthy from serving in such distant regions, and none went south who could avoid it. the army which the khedives maintained in the delta was, judged by european standards, only a rabble. it was badly trained, rarely paid, and very cowardly; and the scum of the army of the delta was the cream of the army of the soudan. the officers remained for long periods, many all their lives, in the obscurity of the remote provinces. some had been sent there in disgrace, others in disfavour. some had been forced to serve out of egypt by extreme poverty, others were drawn to the soudan by the hopes of gratifying peculiar tastes. the majority had harems of the women of the country, which were limited only by the amount of money they could lay their hands on by any method. many were hopeless and habitual drunkards. nearly all were dishonest. all were indolent and incapable. under such leadership the finest soldiery would have soon degenerated. the egyptians in the soudan were not fine soldiers. like their officers, they were the worst part of the khedivial army. like them, they had been driven to the south. like them, they were slothful and effete. their training was imperfect; their discipline was lax; their courage was low. nor was even this all the weakness and peril of their position; for while the regular troops were thus demoralised, there existed a powerful local irregular force of bazingers (soudanese riflemen), as well armed as the soldiers, more numerous, more courageous, and who regarded the alien garrisons with fear that continually diminished and hate that continually grew. and behind regulars and irregulars alike the wild arab tribes of the desert and the hardy blacks of the forests, goaded by suffering and injustice, thought the foreigners the cause of all their woes, and were delayed only by their inability to combine from sweeping them off the face of the earth. never was there such a house of cards as the egyptian dominion in the soudan. the marvel is that it stood so long, not that it fell so soon. the names of two men of character and fame are forever connected with the actual outburst. one was an english general, the other an arab priest; yet, in spite of the great gulf and vivid contrast between their conditions, they resembled each other in many respects. both were earnest and enthusiastic men of keen sympathies and passionate emotions. both were powerfully swayed by religious fervour. both exerted great personal influence on all who came in contact with them. both were reformers. the arab was an african reproduction of the englishman; the englishman a superior and civilised development of the arab. in the end they fought to the death, but for an important part of their lives their influence on the fortunes of the soudan was exerted in the same direction. mohammed ahmed, 'the mahdi,' will be discussed in his own place. charles gordon needs little introduction. long before this tale begins his reputation was european, and the fame of the 'ever-victorious army' had spread far beyond the great wall of china. the misgovernment of the egyptians and the misery of the soudanese reached their greatest extreme in the seventh decade of the present century. from such a situation there seemed to be no issue other than by force of arms. the arab tribes lacked no provocation. yet they were destitute of two moral forces essential to all rebellions. the first was the knowledge that better things existed. the second was a spirit of combination. general gordon showed them the first. the mahdi provided the second. it is impossible to study any part of charles gordon's career without being drawn to all the rest. as his wild and varied fortunes lead him from sebastopol to pekin, from gravesend to south africa, from mauritius to the soudan, the reader follows fascinated. every scene is strange, terrible, or dramatic. yet, remarkable as are the scenes, the actor is the more extraordinary; a type without comparison in modern times and with few likenesses in history. rare and precious is the truly disinterested man. potentates of many lands and different degree--the emperor of china, the king of the belgians, the premier of cape colony, the khedive of egypt--competed to secure his services. the importance of his offices varied no less than their nature. one day he was a subaltern of sappers; on another he commanded the chinese army; the next he directed an orphanage; or was governor-general of the soudan, with supreme powers of life and death and peace and war; or served as private secretary to lord ripon. but in whatever capacity he laboured he was true to his reputation. whether he is portrayed bitterly criticising to graham the tactics of the assault on the redan; or pulling the head of lar wang from under his bedstead and waving it in paroxysms of indignation before the astonished eyes of sir halliday macartney; or riding alone into the camp of the rebel suliman and receiving the respectful salutes of those who had meant to kill him; or telling the khedive ismail that he 'must have the whole soudan to govern'; or reducing his salary to half the regulation amount because 'he thought it was too much'; or ruling a country as large as europe; or collecting facts for lord ripon's rhetorical efforts--we perceive a man careless alike of the frowns of men or the smiles of women, of life or comfort, wealth or fame. it was a pity that one, thus gloriously free from the ordinary restraining influences of human society, should have found in his own character so little mental ballast. his moods were capricious and uncertain, his passions violent, his impulses sudden and inconsistent. the mortal enemy of the morning had become a trusted ally before the night. the friend he loved to-day he loathed to-morrow. scheme after scheme formed in his fertile brain, and jostled confusingly together. all in succession were pressed with enthusiasm. all at times were rejected with disdain. a temperament naturally neurotic had been aggravated by an acquired habit of smoking; and the general carried this to so great an extreme that he was rarely seen without a cigarette. his virtues are famous among men; his daring and resource might turn the tide or war; his energy would have animated a whole people; his achievements are upon record; but it must also be set down that few more uncertain and impracticable forces than gordon have ever been introduced into administration and diplomacy. although the egyptian government might loudly proclaim their detestation of slavery, their behaviour in the soudan was viewed with suspicion by the european powers, and particularly by great britain. to vindicate his sincerity the khedive ismail in appointed gordon to be governor of the equatorial province in succession to sir samuel baker. the name of the general was a sufficient guarantee that the slave trade was being earnestly attacked. the khedive would gladly have stopped at the guarantee, and satisfied the world without disturbing 'vested interests.' but the mission, which may have been originally instituted as a pretence, soon became in gordon's energetic hands very real. circumstances, moreover, soon enlisted the sympathies of the egyptian government on the side of their zealous agent. the slave dealers had committed every variety of atrocity for which the most odious traffic in the world afforded occasion; but when, under the leadership of zubehr rahamna, they refused to pay their annual tribute, it was felt in cairo that their crimes had cried aloud for chastisement. zubehr is sufficiently described when it has been said that he was the most notorious slave dealer africa has ever produced. his infamy had spread beyond the limits of the continent which was the scene of his exploits to the distant nations of the north and west. in reality, his rule was a distinct advance on the anarchy which had preceded it, and certainly he was no worse than others of his vile trade. his scale of business was, however, more extended. what william whiteley was in respect of goods and chattels, that was zubehr in respect of slaves--a universal provider. magnitude lends a certain grandeur to crime; and zubehr in the height of his power, at the head of the slave merchants' confederacy, might boast the retinue of a king and exercise authority over wide regions and a powerful army. as early as he was practically the independent ruler of the bahr-el-ghazal. the khedive resolved to assert his rights. a small egyptian force was sent to subdue the rebel slaver who not only disgraced humanity but refused to pay tribute. like most of the khedivial expeditions the troops under bellal bey met with ill-fortune. they came, they saw, they ran away. some, less speedy than the rest, fell on the field of dishonour. the rebellion was open. nevertheless it was the khedive who sought peace. zubehr apologised for defeating the viceregal soldiers and remained supreme in the bahr-el-ghazal. thence he planned the conquest of darfur, at that time an independent kingdom. the egyptian government were glad to join with him in the enterprise. the man they had been unable to conquer, they found it expedient to assist. the operations were successful. the king of darfur, who was distinguished no less for his valour than for his folly, was killed. the whole country was subdued. the whole population available after the battles became slaves. zubehr thus wielded a formidable power. the khedivial government, thinking to ensure his loyalty, created him a pasha--a rank which he could scarcely disgrace; and the authority of the rebel was thus unwillingly recognised by the ruler. such was the situation when gordon first came to the soudan. it was beyond the power of the new governor of the equatorial province at once to destroy the slave-hunting confederacy. yet he struck heavy blows at the slave trade, and when in , after a short visit to england, he returned to the soudan as governor-general and with absolute power, he assailed it with redoubled energy. fortune assisted his efforts, for the able zubehr was enticed to cairo, and, once there, the government refused to allow their faithful ally and distinguished guest to go back to his happy-hunting grounds. although the slave dealers were thus robbed of their great leader, they were still strong, and zubehr's son, the brave suliman, found a considerable following. furious at his father's captivity, and alarmed lest his own should follow, he meditated revolt. but the governor-general, mounted on a swift camel and attired in full uniform, rode alone into the rebel camp and compelled the submission of its chiefs before they could recover from their amazement. the confederacy was severely shaken, and when, in the following year, suliman again revolted, the egyptian troops under gessi pasha were able to disperse his forces and induce him to surrender on terms. the terms were broken, and suliman and ten of his companions suffered death by shooting [von slatin, baron rudolf karl. fire and sword in the soudan, p. .] the league of the slave dealers was thus destroyed. towards the end of gordon left the soudan. with short intervals he had spent five busy years in its provinces. his energy had stirred the country. he had struck at the root of the slave trade, he had attacked the system of slavery, and, as slavery was the greatest institution in the land, he had undermined the whole social system. indignation had stimulated his activity to an extraordinary degree. in a climate usually fatal to europeans he discharged the work of five officers. careless of his methods, he bought slaves himself, drilled them, and with the soldiers thus formed pounced on the caravans of the hunters. traversing the country on a fleet dromedary--on which in a single year he is said to have covered , miles--he scattered justice and freedom among the astonished natives. he fed the infirm, protected the weak, executed the wicked. to some he gave actual help, to many freedom, to all new hopes and aspirations. nor were the tribes ungrateful. the fiercest savages and cannibals respected the life of the strange white man. the women blessed him. he could ride unarmed and alone where a brigade of soldiers dared not venture. but he was, as he knew himself, the herald of the storm. oppressed yet ferocious races had learned that they had rights; the misery of the soudanese was lessened, but their knowledge had increased. the whole population was unsettled, and the wheels of change began slowly to revolve; nor did they stop until they had accomplished an enormous revolution. the part played by the second force is more obscure. few facts are so encouraging to the student of human development as the desire, which most men and all communities manifest at all times, to associate with their actions at least the appearance of moral right. however distorted may be their conceptions of virtue, however feeble their efforts to attain even to their own ideals, it is a pleasing feature and a hopeful augury that they should wish to be justified. no community embarks on a great enterprise without fortifying itself with the belief that from some points of view its motives are lofty and disinterested. it is an involuntary tribute, the humble tribute of imperfect beings, to the eternal temples of truth and beauty. the sufferings of a people or a class may be intolerable, but before they will take up arms and risk their lives some unselfish and impersonal spirit must animate them. in countries where there is education and mental activity or refinement, this high motive is found in the pride of glorious traditions or in a keen sympathy with surrounding misery. ignorance deprives savage nations of such incentives. yet in the marvellous economy of nature this very ignorance is a source of greater strength. it affords them the mighty stimulus of fanaticism. the french communists might plead that they upheld the rights of man. the desert tribes proclaimed that they fought for the glory of god. but although the force of fanatical passion is far greater than that exerted by any philosophical belief, its sanction is just the same. it gives men something which they think is sublime to fight for, and this serves them as an excuse for wars which it is desirable to begin for totally different reasons. fanaticism is not a cause of war. it is the means which helps savage peoples to fight. it is the spirit which enables them to combine--the great common object before which all personal or tribal disputes become insignificant. what the horn is to the rhinoceros, what the sting is to the wasp, the mohammedan faith was to the arabs of the soudan--a faculty of offence or defence. it was all this and no more. it was not the reason of the revolt. it strengthened, it characterised, but it did not cause. ['i do not believe that fanaticism exists as it used to do in the world, judging from what i have seen in this so-called fanatic land. it is far more a question of property, and is more like communism under the flag of religion.'--general gordon's journals at khartoum, bk.i. p. .] those whose practice it is to regard their own nation as possessing a monopoly of virtue and common-sense, are wont to ascribe every military enterprise of savage peoples to fanaticism. they calmly ignore obvious and legitimate motives. the most rational conduct is considered mad. it has therefore been freely stated, and is to some extent believed, that the revolt in the soudan was entirely religious. if the worst untruths are those that have some appearance of veracity, this impression must be very false indeed. it is, perhaps, an historical fact that the revolt of a large population has never been caused solely or even mainly by religious enthusiasm. the reasons which forced the peoples of the soudan to revolt were as strong as the defence which their oppressors could offer was feeble. looking at the question from a purely political standpoint, we may say that upon the whole there exists no record of a better case for rebellion than presented itself to the soudanese. their country was being ruined; their property was plundered; their women were ravished; their liberties were curtailed; even their lives were threatened. aliens ruled the inhabitants; the few oppressed the many; brave men were harried by cowards; the weak compelled the strong. here were sufficient reasons. since any armed movement against an established government can be justified only by success, strength is an important revolutionary virtue. it was a virtue that the arabs might boast. they were indeed far stronger than they, their persecutors, or the outside world had yet learned. all were soon to be enlightened. the storm gathered and the waters rose. three great waves impelled the living tide against the tottering house founded on the desert sand. the arab suffered acutely from poverty, misgovernment, and oppression. infuriated, he looked up and perceived that the cause of all his miseries was a weak and cowardly foreigner, a despicable 'turk.' the antagonism of races increased the hatred sprung from social evils. the moment was at hand. then, and not till then, the third wave came--the wave of fanaticism, which, catching up and surmounting the other waves, covered all the flood with its white foam, and, bearing on with the momentum of the waters, beat in thunder against the weak house so that it fell; and great was the fall thereof. down to the year there was no fanatical movement in the soudan. in their utter misery the hopeless inhabitants had neglected even the practices of religion. they were nevertheless prepared for any enterprise, however desperate, which might free them from the egyptian yoke. all that delayed them was the want of some leader who could combine the tribes and restore their broken spirits, and in the summer of the leader appeared. his subsequent career is within the limits of this account, and since his life throws a strong light on the thoughts and habits of the arabs of the soudan it may be worth while to trace it from the beginning. the man who was the proximate cause of the river war was born by the banks of the nile, not very far from dongola. his family were poor and of no account in the province. but as the prophet had claimed a royal descent, and as a sacred example was sprung from david's line, mohammed ahmed asserted that he was of the 'ashraf,'(descendants of the prophet) and the assertion, since it cannot be disproved, may be accepted. his father was a humble priest; yet he contrived to give his son some education in the practices of religion, the principles of the koran, and the art of writing. then he died at kerreri while on a journey to khartoum, and left the future mahdi, still a child, to the mercies of the world. solitary trees, if they grow at all, grow strong; and a boy deprived of a father's care often develops, if he escape the perils of youth, an independence and vigour of thought which may restore in after life the heavy loss of early days. it was so with mohammed ahmed. he looked around for an occupation and subsistence. a large proportion of the population of religious countries pass their lives at leisure, supported by the patient labour of the devout. the young man determined to follow the profession for which he felt his talents suited, and which would afford him the widest scope. he became a priest. many of the religious teachers of heathen and other countries are devoid of enthusiasm and turn their attention to the next world because doing so affords them an easy living in this. happily this is not true of all. it was not true of mohammed. even at an early age he manifested a zeal for god's service, and displayed a peculiar aptitude for learning the tenets and dogmas of the mohammedan belief. so promising a pupil did not long lack a master in a country where intelligence and enthusiasm were scarce. his aspirations growing with his years and knowledge, he journeyed to khartoum as soon as his religious education was completed, and became a disciple of the renowned and holy sheikh, mohammed sherif. his devotion to his superior, to his studies and to the practice of austerities, and a strange personal influence he was already beginning to show, won him by degrees a few disciples of his own: and with them he retired to the island of abba. here by the waters of the white nile mohammed ahmed lived for several years. his two brothers, who were boat-builders in the neighbourhood, supported him by their industry. but it must have been an easy burden, for we read that he 'hollowed out for himself a cave in the mud bank, and lived in almost entire seclusion, fasting often for days, and occasionally paying a visit to the head of the order to assure him of his devotion and obedience.' [i take this passage from fire and sword in the soudan, by slatin. his account is the most graphic and trustworthy of all known records of the mahdi. he had terrible opportunities of collecting information. i have followed his version (chapter iv.) very closely on this subject.] meanwhile his sanctity increased, and the labour and charity of the brothers were assisted by the alms of godly travellers on the river. this virtuous and frugal existence was disturbed and terminated by an untoward event. the renowned and holy sheikh made a feast to celebrate the circumcision of his sons. that the merriment of the auspicious occasion and the entertainment of the guests might be increased, sherif, according to the lax practice of the time, granted a dispensation from any sins committed during the festivities, and proclaimed in god's name the suspension of the rules against singing and dancing by which the religious orders were bound. the ascetic of abba island did not join in these seemingly innocent dissipations. with the recklessness of the reformer he protested against the demoralisation of the age, and loudly affirmed the doctrine that god alone could forgive sins. these things were speedily brought to the ears of the renowned sheikh, and in all the righteous indignation that accompanies detected wrong-doing, he summoned mohammed ahmed before him. the latter obeyed. he respected his superior. he was under obligations to him. his ire had disappeared as soon as it had been expressed. he submissively entreated forgiveness; but in vain. sherif felt that some sort of discipline must be maintained among his flock. he had connived at disobedience to the divine law. all the more must he uphold his own authority. rising in anger, he drove the presumptuous disciple from his presence with bitter words, and expunged his name from the order of the elect. mohammed went home. he was greatly distressed. yet his fortunes were not ruined. his sanctity was still a valuable and, unless he chose otherwise, an inalienable asset. the renowned sheikh had a rival--nearly as holy and more enterprising than himself. from him the young priest might expect a warm welcome. nevertheless he did not yet abandon his former superior. placing a heavy wooden collar on his neck, clad in sackcloth and sprinkled with ashes, he again returned to his spiritual leader, and in this penitential guise implored pardon. he was ignominiously ejected. nor did he venture to revisit the unforgiving sheikh. but it happened that in a few weeks sherif had occasion to journey to the island of abba. his former disciple appeared suddenly before him, still clad in sackcloth and defiled by ashes. careless of his plain misery, and unmoved by his loyalty, which was the more remarkable since it was disinterested, the implacable sheikh poured forth a stream of invective. among many insults, one went home: 'be off, you wretched dongolawi.' although the natives of the dongola province were despised and disliked in the southern soudan, it is not at first apparent why mohammed should have resented so bitterly the allusion to his birthplace. but abuse by class is a dangerous though effective practice. a man will perhaps tolerate an offensive word applied to himself, but will be infuriated if his nation, his rank, or his profession is insulted. mohammed ahmed rose. all that man could do to make amends he had done. now he had been publicly called 'a wretched dongolawi.' henceforth he would afflict sherif with his repentance no longer. reaching his house, he informed his disciples--for they had not abandoned him in all his trouble--that the sheikh had finally cast him off, and that he would now take his discarded allegiance elsewhere. the rival, the sheikh el koreishi, lived near mesalamia. he was jealous of sherif and envied him his sanctimonious disciples. he was therefore delighted to receive a letter from mohammed ahmed announcing his breach with his former superior and offering his most devoted services. he returned a cordial invitation, and the priest of abba island made all preparation for the journey. this new development seems to have startled the unforgiving sherif. it was no part of his policy to alienate his followers, still less to add to those of his rival. after all, the quality of mercy was high and noble. he would at last graciously forgive the impulsive but repentant disciple. he wrote him a letter to this effect. but it was now too late. mohammed replied with grave dignity that he had committed no crime, that he sought no forgiveness, and that 'a wretched dongolawi' would not offend by his presence the renowned sheikh el sherif. after this indulgence he departed to mesalamia. but the fame of his doings spread far and wide throughout the land. 'even in distant darfur it was the principal topic of conversation' [slatin, fire and sword]. rarely had a fiki been known to offend his superior; never to refuse his forgiveness. mohammed did not hesitate to declare that he had done what he had done as a protest against the decay of religious fervour and the torpor of the times. since his conduct had actually caused his dismissal, it appears that he was quite justified in making a virtue of necessity. at any rate he was believed, and the people groaning under oppression looked from all the regions to the figure that began to grow on the political horizon. his fame grew. rumour, loud-tongued, carried it about the land that a great reformer was come to purify the faith and break the stony apathy which paralysed the hearts of islam. whisperings added that a man was found who should break from off the necks of the tribes the hateful yoke of egypt. mohammed now deliberately entered upon the path of ambition. throughout nubia the shukri belief prevails: some day, in a time of shame and trouble, a second great prophet will arise--a mahdi who shall lead the faithful nearer god and sustain the religion. the people of the soudan always look inquiringly to any ascetic who rises to fame, and the question is often repeated, 'art thou he that should come, or do we look for another?' of this powerful element of disturbance mohammed ahmed resolved to avail himself. he requested and obtained the permission of the sheikh koreishi to return to abba, where he was well known, and with which island village his name was connected, and so came back in triumph to the scene of his disgrace. thither many pilgrims began to resort. he received valuable presents, which he distributed to the poor, who acclaimed him as 'zahed'--a renouncer of earthly pleasures. he journeyed preaching through kordofan, and received the respect of the priesthood and the homage of the people. and while he spoke of the purification of the religion, they thought that the burning words might be applied to the freedom of the soil. he supported his sermons by writings, which were widely read. when a few months later the sheikh koreishi died, the priest of abba proceeded forthwith to erect a tomb to his memory, directing and controlling the voluntary labours of the reverent arabs who carried the stones. while mohammed was thus occupied he received the support of a man, less virtuous than but nearly as famous as himself. abdullah was one of four brothers, the sons of an obscure priest; but he inherited no great love of religion or devotion to its observances. he was a man of determination and capacity. he set before himself two distinct ambitions, both of which he accomplished: to free the soudan of foreigners, and to rule it himself. he seems to have had a queer presentiment of his career. this much he knew: there would be a great religious leader, and he would be his lieutenant and his successor. when zubehr conquered darfur, abdullah presented himself before him and hailed him as 'the expected mahdi.' zubehr, however, protested with superfluous energy that he was no saint, and the impulsive patriot was compelled to accept his assurances. so soon as he saw mohammed ahmed rising to fame and displaying qualities of courage and energy, he hastened to throw himself at his feet and assure him of his devotion. no part of slatin pasha's fascinating account of his perils and sufferings is so entertaining as that in which abdullah, then become khalifa of the whole soudan, describes his early struggles and adversity: 'indeed it was a very troublesome journey. at that time my entire property consisted of one donkey, and he had a gall on his back, so that i could not ride him. but i made him carry my water-skin and bag of corn, over which i spread my rough cotton garment, and drove him along in front of me. at that time i wore the white cotton shirt, like the rest of my tribe. my clothes and my dialect at once marked me out as a stranger wherever i went; and when i crossed the nile i was frequently greeted with "what do you want? go back to your own country. there is nothing to steal here."' what a life of ups and downs! it was a long stride from the ownership of one saddle-galled donkey to the undisputed rule of an empire. the weary wayfarer may have dreamed of this, for ambition stirs imagination nearly as much as imagination excites ambition. but further he could not expect or wish to see. nor could he anticipate as, in the complacency of a man who had done with evil days, he told the story of his rise to the submissive slatin, that the day would come when he would lead an army of more than fifty thousand men to destruction, and that the night would follow when, almost alone, his empire shrunk again to the saddle-galled donkey, he would seek his home in distant kordofan, while this same slatin who knelt so humbly before him would lay the fierce pursuing squadrons on the trail. mohammed ahmed received his new adherent kindly, but without enthusiasm. for some months abdullah carried stones to build the tomb of the sheikh el koreishi. gradually they got to know each other. 'but long before he entrusted me with his secret,' said abdullah to slatin, 'i knew that he was "the expected guide."' [slatin, fire and sword, p. .] and though the world might think that the 'messenger of god' was sent to lead men to happiness in heaven, abdullah attached to the phrase a significance of his own, and knew that he should lead him to power on earth. the two formed a strong combination. the mahdi--for such mohammed ahmed had already in secret announced himself--brought the wild enthusiasm of religion, the glamour of a stainless life, and the influence of superstition into the movement. but if he were the soul of the plot, abdullah was the brain. he was the man of the world, the practical politician, the general. there now commenced a great conspiracy against the egyptian government. it was fostered by the discontents and justified by the miseries of the people of the soudan. the mahdi began to collect adherents and to extend his influence in all parts of the country. he made a second journey through kordofan, and received everywhere promises of support from all classes. the most distant tribes sent assurances of devotion and reverence, and, what was of more importance, of armed assistance. the secret could not be long confined to those who welcomed the movement. as the ramifications of the plot spread they were perceived by the renowned sheikh sherif, who still nursed his chagrin and thirsted for revenge. he warned the egyptian government. they, knowing his envy and hatred of his former disciple, discounted his evidence and for some time paid no attention to the gathering of the storm. but presently more trustworthy witnesses confirmed his statements, and raouf pasha, then governor-general, finding himself confronted with a growing agitation, determined to act. he accordingly sent a messenger to the island of abba, to summon mohammed ahmed to khartoum to justify his behaviour and explain his intentions. the news of the despatch of the messenger was swiftly carried to the mahdi! he consulted with his trusty lieutenant. they decided to risk everything, and without further delay to defy the government. when it is remembered how easily an organised army, even though it be in a bad condition, can stamp out the beginnings of revolt among a population, the courage of their resolve must be admired. the messenger arrived. he was received with courtesy by abdullah, and forthwith conducted before the mahdi. he delivered his message, and urged mohammed ahmed to comply with the orders of the governor-general. the mahdi listened for some time in silence, but with increasing emotion; and when the messenger advised him, as he valued his own safety, to journey to khartoum, if only to justify himself, his passion overcame him. 'what!' he shouted, rising suddenly and striking his breast with his hand. 'by the grace of god and his prophet i am master of this country, and never shall i go to khartoum to justify myself.' [slatin, fire and sword, p. .] the terrified messenger withdrew. the rebellion of the mahdi had begun. both the priest and the governor-general prepared for military enterprise. the mahdi proclaimed a holy war against the foreigners, alike the enemies of god and the scourge of men. he collected his followers. he roused the local tribes. he wrote letters to all parts of the soudan, calling upon the people to fight for a purified religion, the freedom of the soil, and god's holy prophet 'the expected mahdi.' he promised the honour of men to those who lived, the favour of god to those who fell, and lastly that the land should be cleared of the miserable 'turk.' 'better,' he said, and it became the watchword of the revolt, 'thousands of graves than a dollar tax.' [ohrwalder, ten years' captivity in the mahdi's camp.] nor was raouf pasha idle. he sent two companies of infantry with one gun by steamer to abba to arrest the fanatic who disturbed the public peace. what followed is characteristically egyptian. each company was commanded by a captain. to encourage their efforts, whichever officer captured the mahdi was promised promotion. at sunset on an august evening in the steamer arrived at abba. the promise of the governor-general had provoked the strife, not the emulation of the officers. both landed with their companies and proceeded by different routes under the cover of darkness to the village where the mahdi dwelt. arriving simultaneously from opposite directions, they fired into each other, and, in the midst of this mistaken combat, the mahdi rushed upon them with his scanty following and destroyed them impartially. a few soldiers succeeded in reaching the bank of the river. but the captain of the steamer would run no risks, and those who could not swim out to the vessel were left to their fate. with such tidings the expedition returned to khartoum. mohammed ahmed had been himself wounded in the attack, but the faithful abdullah bound up the injury, so that none might know that god's prophet had been pierced by carnal weapons. the effect of the success was electrical. the news spread throughout the soudan. men with sticks had slain men with rifles. a priest had destroyed the soldiers of the government. surely this was the expected one. the mahdi, however, profited by his victory only to accomplish a retreat without loss of prestige. abdullah had no illusions. more troops would be sent. they were too near to khartoum. prudence counselled flight to regions more remote. but before this new hegira the mahdi appointed his four khalifas, in accordance with prophecy and precedent. the first was abdullah. of the others it is only necessary at this moment to notice ali-wad-helu, the chief of one of the local tribes, and among the first to rally to the standard of revolt. then the retreat began; but it was more like a triumphal progress. attended by a considerable following, and preceded by tales of the most wonderful miracles and prodigies, the mahdi retired to a mountain in kordofan to which he gave the name of jebel masa, that being the mountain whence 'the expected guide' is declared in the koran sooner or later to appear. he was now out of reach of khartoum, but within reach of fashoda. the egyptian governor of that town, rashid bey, a man of more enterprise and even less military knowledge than is usual in his race, determined to make all attempt to seize the rebel and disperse his following. taking no precautions, he fell on the th of december into an ambush, was attacked unprepared, and was himself, with fourteen hundred men, slaughtered by the ill-armed but valiant arabs. the whole country stirred. the government, thoroughly alarmed by the serious aspect the revolt had assumed, organised a great expedition. four thousand troops under yusef, a pasha of distinguished reputation, were sent against the rebels. meanwhile the mahdi and his followers suffered the extremes of want. their cause was as yet too perilous for the rich to join. only the poor flocked to the holy standard. all that mohammed possessed he gave away, keeping nothing for himself, excepting only a horse to lead his followers in battle. abdullah walked. nevertheless the rebels were half-famished, and armed with scarcely any more deadly weapons than sticks and stones. the army of the government approached slowly. their leaders anticipated an easy victory. their contempt for the enemy was supreme. they did not even trouble themselves to post sentries by night, but slept calmly inside a slender thorn fence, unwatched save by their tireless foes. and so it came to pass that in the half-light of the early morning of the th of june the mahdi, his ragged khalifas, and his almost naked army rushed upon them, and slew them to a man. the victory was decisive. southern kordofan was at the feet of the priest of abba. stores of arms and ammunition had fallen into his hands. thousands of every class hastened to join his standard. no one doubted that he was the divine messenger sent to free them from their oppressors. the whole of the arab tribes all over the soudan rose at once. the revolt broke out simultaneously in sennar and darfur, and spread to provinces still more remote. the smaller egyptian posts, the tax-gatherers and local administrators, were massacred in every district. only the larger garrisons maintained themselves in the principal towns. they were at once blockaded. all communications were interrupted. all legal authority was defied. only the mahdi was obeyed. it is now necessary to look for a moment to egypt. the misgovernment which in the soudan had caused the rebellion of the mahdi, in egypt produced the revolt of arabi pasha. as the people of the soudan longed to be rid of the foreign oppressors--the so-called 'turks'--so those of the delta were eager to free themselves from the foreign regulators and the real turkish influence. while men who lived by the sources of the nile asserted that tribes did not exist for officials to harry, others who dwelt at its mouth protested that nations were not made to be exploited by creditors or aliens. the ignorant south found their leader in a priest: the more educated north looked to a soldier. mohammed ahmed broke the egyptian yoke; arabi gave expression to the hatred of the egyptians for the turks. but although the hardy arabs might scatter the effete egyptians, the effete egyptians were not likely to disturb the solid battalions of europe. after much hesitation and many attempts at compromise, the liberal administration of mr. gladstone sent a fleet which reduced the forts of alexandria to silence and the city to anarchy. the bombardment of the fleet was followed by the invasion of a powerful army. twenty-five thousand men were landed in egypt. the campaign was conducted with celerity and skill. the egyptian armies were slaughtered or captured. their patriotic but commonplace leader was sentenced to death and condemned to exile, and great britain assumed the direction of egyptian affairs. the british soon restored law and order in egypt, and the question of the revolt in the soudan came before the english advisers of the khedive. notwithstanding the poverty and military misfortunes which depressed the people of the delta, the desire to hold their southern provinces was evident. the british government, which at that time was determined to pursue a policy of non-interference in the soudan, gave a tacit consent, and another great expedition was prepared to suppress the false prophet, as the english and egyptians deemed him--'the expected mahdi,' as the people of the soudan believed. a retired officer of the indian staff corps and a few european officers of various nationalities were sent to khartoum to organise the new field force. meanwhile the mahdi, having failed to take by storm, laid siege to el obeid, the chief town of kordofan. during the summer of the egyptian troops gradually concentrated at khartoum until a considerable army was formed. it was perhaps the worst army that has ever marched to war. one extract from general hicks's letters will suffice. writing on the th of june, , to sir e. wood, he says incidentally: 'fifty-one men of the krupp battery deserted on the way here, although in chains.' the officers and men who had been defeated fighting for their own liberties at tel-el-kebir were sent to be destroyed, fighting to take away the liberties of others in the soudan. they had no spirit, no discipline, hardly any training, and in a force of over eight thousand men there were scarcely a dozen capable officers. the two who were the most notable of these few--general hicks, who commanded, and colonel farquhar, the chief of the staff--must be remarked. el obeid had fallen before the ill-fated expedition left khartoum; but the fact that slatin bey, an austrian officer in the egyptian service, was still maintaining himself in darfur provided it with an object. on the th of september hicks and his army (the actual strength of which was , infantry, mounted bashi bazuks, cavalry, circassians, mounted guns, krupps, and nordenfeldt machine guns) left omdurman and marched to duem. although the actual command of the expedition was vested in the english officer, ala-ed-din pasha, the governor-general who had succeeded raouf pasha, exercised an uncertain authority. differences of opinion were frequent, though all the officers were agreed in taking the darkest views of their chances. the miserable host toiled slowly onward towards its destruction, marching in a south-westerly direction through shat and rahad. here the condition of the force was so obviously demoralised that a german servant (gustav klootz, the servant of baron seckendorf) actually deserted to the mahdi's camp. he was paraded in triumph as an english officer. on the approach of the government troops the mahdi had marched out of el obeid and established himself in the open country, where he made his followers live under military conditions and continually practised them in warlike evolutions. more than forty thousand men collected round his standard, and the arabs were now armed with several thousand rifles and a few cannon, as well as a great number of swords and spears. to these proportions had the little band of followers who fought at abba grown! the disparity of the forces was apparent before the battle. the mahdi thereupon wrote to hicks, calling on him to surrender and offering terms. his proposals were treated with disdain, although the probable result of an engagement was clear. until the expedition reached rahad only a few cavalry patrols had watched its slow advance. but on the st of november the mahdi left el obeid and marched with his whole power to meet his adversary. the collision took place on the rd of november. all through that day the egyptians struggled slowly forward, in great want of water, losing continually from the fire of the soudanese riflemen, and leaving several guns behind them. on the next morning they were confronted by the main body of the arab army, and their attempts to advance further were defeated with heavy loss. the force began to break up. yet another day was consumed before it was completely destroyed. scarcely five hundred egyptians escaped death; hardly as many of the arabs fell. the european officers perished fighting to the end; and the general met his fate sword in hand, at the head of the last formed body of his troops, his personal valour and physical strength exciting the admiration even of the fearless enemy, so that in chivalrous respect they buried his body with barbaric honours. mohammed ahmed celebrated his victory with a salute of one hundred guns; and well he might, for the soudan was now his, and his boast that, by god's grace and the favour of the prophet, he was the master of all the land had been made good by force of arms. no further attempt was made to subdue the country. the people of the soudan had won their freedom by their valour and by the skill and courage of their saintly leader. it only remained to evacuate the towns and withdraw the garrisons safely. but what looked like the winding-up of one story was really the beginning of another, much longer, just as bloody, commencing in shame and disaster, but ending in triumph and, let us hope, in peace. i desire for a moment to take a more general view of the mahdi's movement than the narrative has allowed. the original causes were social and racial. but, great as was the misery of the people, their spirit was low, and they would not have taken up arms merely on material grounds. then came the mahdi. he gave the tribes the enthusiasm they lacked. the war broke out. it is customary to lay to the charge of mohammed ahmed all the blood that was spilled. to my mind it seems that he may divide the responsibility with the unjust rulers who oppressed the land, with the incapable commanders who muddled away the lives of their men, with the vacillating ministers who aggravated the misfortunes. but, whatever is set to the mahdi's account, it should not be forgotten that he put life and soul into the hearts of his countrymen, and freed his native land of foreigners. the poor miserable natives, eating only a handful of grain, toiling half-naked and without hope, found a new, if terrible magnificence added to life. within their humble breasts the spirit of the mahdi roused the fires of patriotism and religion. life became filled with thrilling, exhilarating terrors. they existed in a new and wonderful world of imagination. while they lived there were great things to be done; and when they died, whether it were slaying the egyptians or charging the british squares, a paradise which they could understand awaited them. there are many christians who reverence the faith of islam and yet regard the mahdi merely as a commonplace religious impostor whom force of circumstances elevated to notoriety. in a certain sense, this may be true. but i know not how a genuine may be distinguished from a spurious prophet, except by the measure of his success. the triumphs of the mahdi were in his lifetime far greater than those of the founder of the mohammedan faith; and the chief difference between orthodox mohammedanism and mahdism was that the original impulse was opposed only by decaying systems of government and society and the recent movement came in contact with civilisation and the machinery of science. recognising this, i do not share the popular opinion, and i believe that if in future years prosperity should come to the peoples of the upper nile, and learning and happiness follow in its train, then the first arab historian who shall investigate the early annals of that new nation will not forget, foremost among the heroes of his race, to write the name of mohammed ahmed. chapter ii: the fate of the envoy all great movements, every vigorous impulse that a community may feel, become perverted and distorted as time passes, and the atmosphere of the earth seems fatal to the noble aspirations of its peoples. a wide humanitarian sympathy in a nation easily degenerates into hysteria. a military spirit tends towards brutality. liberty leads to licence, restraint to tyranny. the pride of race is distended to blustering arrogance. the fear of god produces bigotry and superstition. there appears no exception to the mournful rule, and the best efforts of men, however glorious their early results, have dismal endings, like plants which shoot and bud and put forth beautiful flowers, and then grow rank and coarse and are withered by the winter. it is only when we reflect that the decay gives birth to fresh life, and that new enthusiasms spring up to take the places of those that die, as the acorn is nourished by the dead leaves of the oak, the hope strengthens that the rise and fall of men and their movements are only the changing foliage of the ever-growing tree of life, while underneath a greater evolution goes on continually. the movement which mohammed ahmed created did not escape the common fate of human enterprise; nor was it long before the warm generous blood of a patriotic and religious revolt congealed into the dark clot of a military empire. with the expulsion or destruction of the foreign officials, soldiers, and traders, the racial element began to subside. the reason for its existence was removed. with the increasing disorders the social agitation dwindled; for communism pre-supposes wealth, and the wealth of the soudan was greatly diminished. there remained only the fanatical fury which the belief in the divine mission of the mahdi had excited; and as the necessity for a leader passed away, the belief in his sanctity grew weaker. but meanwhile a new force was making itself felt on the character of the revolt. the triumph no less than the plunder which had rewarded the mahdi's victories had called into existence a military spirit distinct from the warlike passions of the tribesmen--the spirit of the professional soldier. the siege of khartoum was carried on while this new influence was taking the place of the original forces of revolt. there was a period when a neutral point was obtained and the mahdist power languished. but the invasion of the eastern soudan by the british troops in the spring and the necessary advance of the relieving columns in the winter of revived the patriotic element. the tribes who had made a great effort to free themselves from foreign domination saw in the operations of sir gerald graham and lord wolseley an attempt to bring them again under the yoke. the impulse which was given to the mahdi's cause was sufficient to raise a fierce opposition to the invading forces. the delay in the despatch of the relief expedition had sealed the fate of khartoum, and the fall of the town established the supremacy of the military spirit on which the dervish empire was afterwards founded. all the warlike operations of mohammedan peoples are characterised by fanaticism, but with this general reservation it may be said--that the arabs who destroyed yusef, who assaulted el obeid, who annihilated hicks fought in the glory of religious zeal; that the arabs who opposed graham, earle, and stewart fought in defence of the soil; and that the arabs who were conquered by kitchener fought in the pride of an army. fanatics charged at shekan; patriots at abu klea; warriors at omdurman. in order to describe conveniently the changing character of the revolt, i have anticipated the story and must revert to a period when the social and racial influences were already weakening and the military spirit was not yet grown strong. if the defeat of yusef pasha decided the whole people of the soudan to rise in arms and strike for their liberties, the defeat of hicks satisfied the british government that those liberties were won. the powerful influence of the desire to rule prompted the khedive's ministers to make still further efforts to preserve their country's possessions. had egypt been left to herself, other desperate efforts would have been made. but the british government had finally abandoned the policy of non-interference with egyptian action in the soudan. they 'advised' its abandonment. the protests of sherif pasha provoked lord granville to explain the meaning of the word 'advice.' the khedive bowed to superior authority. the minister resigned. the policy of evacuation was firmly adopted. 'let us,' said the ministers, 'collect the garrisons and come away.' it was simple to decide on the course to be pursued, but almost impossible to follow it. several of the egyptian garrisons, as in darfur and el obeid, had already fallen. the others were either besieged, like sennar, tokar, and sinkat, or cut off from the north, as in the case of the equatorial province, by the area of rebellion. the capital of the soudan was, however, as yet unmolested; and as its egyptian population exceeded the aggregate of the provincial towns, the first task of the egyptian government was obvious. mr. gladstone's administration had repressed the revolt of arabi pasha. through their policy the british were in armed occupation of egypt. british officers were reorganising the army. a british official supervised the finances. a british plenipotentiary 'advised' the re-established tewfik. a british fleet lay attentive before the ruins of alexandria, and it was evident that great britain could annex the country in name as well as in fact. but imperialism was not the object of the radical cabinet. their aim was philanthropic and disinterested. as they were now determined that the egyptians should evacuate the soudan, so they had always been resolved that the british should evacuate egypt. throughout this chapter it will be seen that the desire to get out of the country at once is the keynote of the british policy. every act, whether of war or administration, is intended to be final. every despatch is directed to breaking the connection between the two countries and winding up the severed strings. but responsibilities which had been lightly assumed clung like the shirt of nessus. the ordinary practice of civilised nations demanded that some attempt should be made to justify interference by reorganisation. the british government watched therefore with anxious solicitude the efforts of egypt to evacuate the soudan and bring the garrisons safely home. they utterly declined to assist with military force, but they were generous with their advice. everybody at that time distrusted the capacities of the egyptians, and it was thought the evacuation might be accomplished if it were entrusted to stronger and more honest men than were bred by the banks of the nile. the ministers looked about them, wondering how they could assist the egyptian government without risk or expense to themselves, and in an evil hour for their fame and fortunes someone whispered the word 'gordon.' forthwith they proceeded to telegraph to cairo: 'would general charles gordon be of any use to you or to the egyptian government; and, if so, in what capacity'? the egyptian government replied through sir evelyn baring that as the movement in the soudan was partly religious they were 'very much averse' from the appointment of a christian in high command. the eyes of all those who possessed local knowledge were turned to a different person. there was one man who might stem the tide of mahdism, who might perhaps restore the falling dominion of egypt, who might at least save the garrisons of the soudan. in their necessity and distress the khedivial advisers and the british plenipotentiary looked as a desperate remedy to the man whose liberty they had curtailed, whose property they had confiscated, and whose son they had executed--zubehr pasha. this was the agent for whom the government of egypt hankered. the idea was supported by all who were acquainted with the local conditions. a week after sir evelyn baring had declined general gordon's services he wrote: 'whatever may be zubehr's faults, he is said to be a man of great energy and resolution. the egyptian government considers that his services may be very useful.... baker pasha is anxious to avail himself of zubehr pasha's services.'[sir evelyn baring, letter of december , .] it is certain that had the egyptian government been a free agent, zubehr would have been sent to the soudan as its sultan, and assisted by arms, money, and perhaps by men, to make head against the mahdi. it is probable that at this particular period the mahdi would have collapsed before a man whose fame was nearly equal to, and whose resources would have been much greater than, his own. but the british ministry would countenance no dealings with such a man. they scouted the idea of zubehr, and by so doing increased their obligation to suggest an alternative. zubehr being rejected, gordon remained. it is scarcely possible to conceive a greater contrast than that which these two men presented. it was a leap from the equator to the north pole. when difficulties and dangers perplex all minds, it has often happened in history that many men by different lines of thought arrive at the same conclusion. no complete record has yet been published of the telegrams which passed between the government and their agent at this juncture. the blue-books preserve a disingenuous discretion. but it is known that from the very first sir evelyn baring was bitterly opposed to general gordon's appointment. no personal friendship existed between them, and the administrator dreaded the return to the feverish complications of egyptian politics of the man who had always been identified with unrest, improvisation, and disturbance. the pressure was, however, too strong for him to withstand. nubar pasha, the foreign office, the british public, everyone clamoured for the appointment. had baring refused to give way, it is probable that he would have been overruled. at length he yielded, and, as soon as his consent had been obtained, the government turned with delight to gordon. on the th of january lord wolseley requested him to come to england. on the th he met the cabinet. that same night he started on the long journey from which he was never to return. gordon embarked on his mission in high spirits, sustained by that belief in personality which too often misleads great men and beautiful women. it was, he said, the greatest honour ever conferred upon him. everything smiled. the nation was delighted. the ministers were intensely relieved. the most unbounded confidence was reposed in the envoy. his interview with the khedive was 'very satisfactory.' his complete authority was proclaimed to all the notables and natives of the soudan [proclamation of the khedive, january , .] he was assured of the support of the egyptian government [sir e. baring to major-general gordon, january , .] the london foreign office, having with becoming modesty admitted that they had not 'sufficient local knowledge,' [earl granville to sir e. baring, january , .] accorded him 'widest discretionary power.' [sir e. baring to earl granville, february , .] one hundred thousand pounds was placed to his credit, and he was informed that further sums would be supplied when this was exhausted. he was assured that no effort would be wanting on the part of the cairene authorities, whether english or egyptian, to afford him all the support and co-operation in their power [sir e. baring to major-general gordon, january , .] 'there is no sort of difference,' wrote sir evelyn baring, 'between general gordon's views and those entertained by nubar pasha and myself.' [sir e. baring to earl granville, february , .] under these propitious auguries the dismal and disastrous enterprise began. his task, though difficult and, as it ultimately proved, impossible, was clearly defined. 'you will bear in mind,' wrote sir evelyn baring, 'that the main end to be pursued is the evacuation of the soudan.' 'the object... of your mission to the soudan,' declared the khedive, 'is to carry into execution the evacuation of those territories and to withdraw our troops, civil officials, and such of the inhabitants... as may wish to leave for egypt... and after the evacuation to take the necessary steps for establishing an organised government in the different provinces.' nor was he himself under any misconception. he drew up a memorandum when on board the tanjore in which he fully acquiesced in the evacuation of the soudan. in a sentence which breathes the same spirit as mr. gladstone's famous expression, 'a people rightly struggling to be free,' he wrote: 'i must say that it would be an iniquity to conquer these peoples and then hand them back to the egyptians without guarantees of future good government.' finally, he unhesitatingly asserted: 'no one who has ever lived in the soudan can escape the reflection "what a useless possession is this land!"' and colonel stewart, who accompanied him and endorsed the memorandum, added: 'and what a huge encumbrance to egypt!' thus far there was complete agreement between the british envoy and the liberal cabinet. it is beyond the scope of these pages to describe his long ride across the desert from korosko to abu hamed, his interview with the notables at berber, or his proclamation of the abandonment of the soudan, which some affirm to have been an important cause of his ruin. on the nd of february he arrived at khartoum. he was received with rejoicing by the whole population. they recognised again their just governor-general and their present deliverer. those who had been about to fly for the north took fresh heart. they believed that behind the figure of the envoy stood the resources of an empire. the mahdi and the gathering dervishes were perplexed and alarmed. confusion and hesitancy disturbed their councils and delayed their movements. gordon had come. the armies would follow. both friends and foes were deceived. the great man was at khartoum, but there he would remain--alone. whatever confidence the general had felt in the power of his personal influence had been dispelled on the journey to khartoum. he had no more illusions. his experienced eye reviewed the whole situation. he saw himself confronted with a tremendous racial movement. the people of the soudan had risen against foreigners. his only troops were soudanese. he was himself a foreigner. foremost among the leaders of the revolt were the arab slave dealers, furious at the attempted suppression of their trade. no one, not even sir samuel baker, had tried harder to suppress it than gordon. lastly, the whole movement had assumed a fanatical character. islam marched against the infidel. gordon was a christian. his own soldiers were under the spell they were to try to destroy. to them their commander was accursed. every influence was hostile, and in particular hostile to his person. the combined forces of race, class, and religion were against him. he bowed before their irresistible strength. on the very day of his arrival at khartoum, while the townsfolk were cheering his name in the streets and the batteries were firing joyful salutes, while the people of england thought his mission already accomplished and the government congratulated themselves on the wisdom of their action, general gordon sat himself down and telegraphed a formal request to cairo for zubehr pasha. the whole story of his relations with zubehr is extremely characteristic. zubehr's son, suliman, had been executed, if not by gordon's orders, at least during his administration of the soudan and with his complete approval. 'thus,' he had said, 'does god make gaps in the ranks of his enemies.' he had hardly started from london on his new mission, when he telegraphed to sir evelyn baring, telling him that zubehr was a most dangerous man and requesting that he might be at once deported to cyprus. this was, of course, quite beyond the powers or intention of the british agent. the general arrived in cairo like a whirlwind close behind his telegram, and was very angry to hear that zubehr was still in egypt. before starting up the river he went to see sherif pasha. in the ex-minister's ante-room he met the very man he had determined to avoid--zubehr. he greeted him with effusion. they had a long talk about the soudan, after which gordon hurried to the agency and informed sir evelyn baring that zubehr must accompany him to khartoum at once. baring was amazed. he did not himself disapprove of the plan. he had, in fact, already recommended it. but he thought the change in gordon's attitude too sudden to be relied on. to-morrow he might change again. he begged the general to think more seriously of the matter. gordon with his usual frankness admitted that his change of mind had been very sudden. he had been conscious, he said, of a 'mystic feeling' that zubehr was necessary to save the situation in the soudan. gordon left cairo still considering the matter. so soon as he made his formal demand from khartoum for the assistance of zubehr it was evident that his belief in the old slave dealer's usefulness was a sound conviction and not a mere passing caprice. besides, he had now become 'the man on the spot,' and as such his words carried double force. sir evelyn baring determined to support the recommendation with his whole influence. never was so good a case made out for the appointment of so bad a man. the envoy extraordinary asked for him; colonel stewart, his colleague, concurred; the british agent strongly urged the request; the egyptian government were unanimous; and behind all these were ranged every single person who had the slightest acquaintance with the soudan. nothing could exceed the vigour with which the demand was made. on the st of march general gordon telegraphed: 'i tell you plainly, it is impossible to get cairo employees out of khartoum unless the government helps in the way i told you. they refuse zubehr.... but it was the only chance.' and again on the th: 'if you do not send zubehr, you have no chance of getting the garrisons away.' 'i believe,' said sir evelyn baring in support of these telegrams, 'that general gordon is quite right when he says that zubehr pasha is the only possible man. nubar is strongly in favour of him. dr. bohndorf, the african traveller, fully confirms what general gordon says of the influence of zubehr.' the pasha was vile, but indispensable. her majesty's government refused absolutely to have anything to do with zubehr. they declined to allow the egyptian government to employ him. they would not entertain the proposal, and scarcely consented to discuss it. the historians of the future may occupy their leisure and exercise their wits in deciding whether the ministers and the people were right or wrong; whether they had a right to indulge their sensitiveness at so terrible a cost; whether they were not more nice than wise; whether their dignity was more offended by what was incurred or by what was avoided. general gordon has explained his views very clearly and concisely: 'had zubehr pasha been sent up when i asked for him, berber would in all probability never have fallen, and one might have made a soudan government in opposition to the mahdi. we choose to refuse his coming up because of his antecedents in re slave trade; granted that we had reason, yet, as we take no precautions as to the future of these lands with respect to the slave trade, the above opposition seems absurd. i will not send up 'a' because he will do this, but i will leave the country to 'b', who will do exactly the same [major-general gordon, journals at khartoum.] but if the justice of the decision is doubtful, its consequences were obvious. either the british government were concerned with the soudan, or they were not. if they were not, then they had no reason or right to prohibit the appointment of zubehr. if they were, they were bound to see that the garrisons were rescued. it was an open question whether great britain was originally responsible for the safety of the garrisons. general gordon contended that we were bound to save them at all costs, and he backed his belief with his life. others may hold that governments have no right to lay, or at any rate must be very judicious in the laying of burdens on the backs of their own countrymen in order that they may indulge a refined sense of chivalry towards foreigners. england had not misgoverned the soudan, had not raised the revolt or planted the garrisons. all that egypt had a right to expect was commiseration. but the moment zubehr was prohibited the situation was changed. the refusal to permit his employment was tantamount to an admission that affairs in the soudan involved the honour of england as well as the honour of egypt. when the british people--for this was not merely the act of the government--adopted a high moral attitude with regard to zubehr, they bound themselves to rescue the garrisons, peaceably if possible, forcibly if necessary. with their refusal to allow zubehr to go to the soudan began the long and miserable disagreement between the government and their envoy. puzzled and disturbed at the reception accorded to his first request, gordon cast about for other expedients. he had already stated that zubehr was 'the only chance.' but it is the duty of subordinates to suggest other courses when those they recommend are rejected; and with a whole-hearted enthusiasm and unreserved loyalty the general threw himself into the affair and proposed plan after plan with apparent hope. gordon considered that he was personally pledged to effect the evacuation of khartoum by the garrison and civil servants. he had appointed some of the inhabitants to positions of trust, thus compromising them with the mahdi. others had undoubtedly been encouraged to delay their departure by his arrival. he therefore considered that his honour was involved in their safety. henceforward he was inflexible. neither rewards nor threats could move him. nothing that men could offer would induce him to leave khartoum till its inhabitants were rescued. the government on their side were equally stubborn. nothing, however sacred, should induce them to send troops to khartoum, or in any way involve themselves in the middle of africa. the town might fall; the garrison might be slaughtered; their envoy--but what possibilities they were prepared to face as regards him will not be known until all of this and the next generation are buried and forgotten. the deadlock was complete. to some men the foreign office might have suggested lines of retreat, covered by the highest official praise, and leading to preferment and reward. others would have welcomed an order to leave so perilous a post. but the man they had sent was the one man of all others who was beyond their control, who cared nothing for what they could give or take away. so events dragged on their wretched course. gordon's proposals became more and more impracticable as the best courses he could devise were successively vetoed by the government, and as his irritation and disappointment increased. the editor of his journals has enumerated them with indignant care. he had asked for zubehr. zubehr was refused. he had requested turkish troops. turkish troops were refused. he had asked for mohammedan regiments from india. the government regretted their inability to comply. he asked for a firman from the sultan to strengthen his position. it was 'peremptorily refused.' he proposed to go south in his steamers to equatoria. the government forbade him to proceed beyond khartoum. he asked that british troops might be sent to berber. they were refused. he begged that a few might be sent to assuan. none were sent. he proposed to visit the mahdi himself and try to arrange matters with him personally. perhaps he recognised a kindred spirit. the government in this case very naturally forbade him. at last the quarrel is open. he makes no effort to conceal his disgust. 'i leave you,' he says, the 'indelible disgrace of abandoning the garrisons.' [major-general gordon to sir e. baring (telegraphic), received at cairo april .] such abandonment is, he declares, 'the climax of meanness.' [ibid, despatched april .] he reiterates his determination to abide with the garrison of khartoum. 'i will not leave these people after all they have gone through.' [major-general gordon to sir e. baring, khartoum, july ; received at cairo october .] he tosses his commission contemptuously from him: 'i would also ask her majesty's government to accept the resignation of my commission.' [major-general gordon to sir e. baring (telegraphic), khartoum, march .] the government 'trust that he will not resign,' [earl granville to sir e. baring, foreign office, march .] and his offer remains in abeyance. finally, in bitterness and vexation, thinking himself abandoned and disavowed, he appeals to sir evelyn baring personally: 'i feel sure, whatever you may feel diplomatically, i have your support--and that of every man professing himself a gentleman--in private'; [major-general gordon to sir e. baring (telegraphic), received at cairo april .] and as a last hope he begs sir samuel baker to appeal to 'british and american millionaires' to subscribe two hundred thousand pounds to enable him to carry out the evacuation without, and even in spite of, the governments of cairo and london; and sir samuel baker writes a long letter to the times in passionate protest and entreaty. such are the chief features in the wretched business. even the blue-books in their dry recital arouse in the reader painful and indignant emotions. but meanwhile other and still more stirring events were passing outside the world of paper and ink. the arrival of gordon at khartoum had seriously perplexed and alarmed mohammed ahmed and his khalifas. their following was discouraged, and they themselves feared lest the general should be the herald of armies. his berber proclamation reassured them, and as the weeks passed without reinforcements arriving, the mahdi and abdullah, with that courage which in several great emergencies drew them to the boldest courses, determined to put a brave face on the matter and blockade khartoum itself. they were assisted in this enterprise by a revival of the patriotic impulse throughout the country and a consequent stimulus to the revolt. to discover the cause it is necessary to look to the eastern soudan, where the next tragedy, after the defeat of hicks, is laid. the hadendoa tribe, infuriated by oppression and misgovernment, had joined the rebellion under the leadership of the celebrated, and perhaps immortal, osman digna. the egyptian garrisons of tokar and sinkat were beleaguered and hard pressed. her majesty's government disclaimed all responsibility. yet, since these towns were not far from the coast, they did not prohibit an attempt on the part of the egyptian government to rescue the besieged soldiers. accordingly an egyptian force , strong marched from suakin in february to relieve tokar, under the command of general baker, once the gallant colonel of the th hussars. hard by the wells of teb they were, on the th of february, attacked by about a thousand arabs. 'on the square being only threatened by a small force of the enemy... the egyptian troops threw down their arms and ran, carrying away the black troops with them, and allowing themselves to be killed without the slightest resistance.' [general baker to sir e. baring, february (official despatch), telegraphic.] the british and european officers in vain endeavoured to rally them. the single soudanese battalion fired impartially on friend and foe. the general, with that unshaken courage and high military skill which had already on the danube gained him a continental reputation, collected some fifteen hundred men, mostly unarmed, and so returned to suakin. ninety-six officers and , men were killed. krupp guns, machine guns, rifles, and a large supply of ammunition fell to the victorious arabs. success inflamed their ardour to the point of madness. the attack of the towns was pressed with redoubled vigour. the garrison of sinkat, strong, sallied out and attempted to fight their way to suakin. the garrison of tokar surrendered. both were destroyed. the evil was done. the slaughter was complete. yet the british government resolved to add to it. the garrisons they had refused to rescue they now determined to avenge. in spite of their philanthropic professions, and in spite of the advice of general gordon, who felt that his position at khartoum would be still further compromised by operations on his only line of retreat [sir e. baring to earl granville, cairo, february .], a considerable military expedition consisting of one cavalry and two infantry brigades, was sent to suakin. the command was entrusted to general graham. troops were hurriedly concentrated. the th hussars, returning from india, were stopped and mounted on the horses of the gendarmerie. with admirable celerity the force took the field. within a month of the defeat at teb they engaged the enemy almost on the very scene of the disaster. on the th of march they slew , hadendoa and drove the rest in disorder from the ground. four weeks later a second action was fought at tamai. again the success of the british troops was complete; again the slaughter of the arabs was enormous. but neither victory was bloodless. el teb cost officers and men; tamai, officers and men. the effect of these operations was the dispersal of osman digna's gathering. that astute man, not for the first or last time, made a good retreat. ten thousand men had thus been killed in the space of three months in the eastern soudan. by the discipline of their armies the government were triumphant. the tribes of the red sea shore cowered before them. but as they fought without reason, so they conquered without profit. as soon as gordon had been finally refused the assistance of zubehr pasha, it was evident that the rescue of the garrisons was impossible. the general had been sent as the last hope. rightly or wrongly, his recommendations were ignored. his mission was an admitted failure. after that the only question was how to bring him away as quickly as possible. it was certain that he would not come willingly. force was necessary. yet it was difficult to know how to apply it. after the victories in the eastern soudan the opportunity presented itself. the road was open. the local tribes were crushed. berber had not then fallen. the mahdi was himself still on the road from el obeid to khartoum. sir evelyn baring saw the chance. he did not then occupy the formidable and imposing position in egyptian politics that he has since attained. but with all his influence he urged the despatch of a small flying column to khartoum. his idea was simple. one thousand or twelve hundred men were to mount on camels and ride thither via berber. those who fell ill or whose camels broke down would have to take their chance by the roadside. the plan, however, broke down in the military detail. only one honourable course remained--a regular expedition. this the british agent at once began to urge. this the government obstinately refused to admit; and meanwhile time was passing. the situation at khartoum became grave even before the breach between general gordon and mr. gladstone's cabinet was complete. while the british government was indulging in vengeful operations in the eastern soudan, the mahdi advanced slowly but steadily upon the town with a following variously estimated at from fifteen to twenty thousand men. on the th of march colonel stewart telegraphed from khartoum: 'the mahdi has attempted to raise the people of shendi by an emissary.... we may be cut off;' [lieut.-colonel stewart to sir e. baring, march , .] and on the th gordon himself reported: 'the rebels are four hours distant on the blue nile.' [major-general gordon to sir e. baring, march , .] thereafter no more telegrams came, for on the th the wire was cut between shendi and berber, and the blockade had commenced. the long and glorious defence of the town of khartoum will always fascinate attention. that one man, a european among africans, a christian among mohammedans, should by his genius have inspired the efforts of , soldiers of inferior race, and by his courage have sustained the hearts of , inhabitants of notorious timidity, and with such materials and encumbrances have offered a vigorous resistance to the increasing attacks of an enemy who, though cruel, would yet accept surrender, during a period of days, is an event perhaps without parallel in history. but it may safely be predicted that no one will ever write an account which will compare in interest or in detail with that set forth by the man himself in the famous. 'journals at khartoum.' the brief account has delighted thousands of readers in europe and america. perhaps it is because he is careless of the sympathy of men that charles gordon so readily wins it. before the first of the six parts into which the journals were divided is finished, the reader has been won. henceforth he sees the world through gordon's eyes. with him he scoffs at the diplomatists; despises the government; becomes impatient--unreasonably, perhaps--with a certain major kitchener in the intelligence branch, whose information miscarried or was not despatched; is wearied by the impracticable shaiggia irregulars; takes interest in the turkey-cock and his harem of four wives; laughs at the 'black sluts' seeing their faces for the first time in the mirror. with him he trembles for the fate of the 'poor little beast,' the husseinyeh, when she drifts stern foremost on the shoal, 'a penny steamer under cannon fire'; day after day he gazes through the general's powerful telescope from the palace roof down the long brown reaches of the river towards the rocks of the shabluka gorge, and longs for some sign of the relieving steamers; and when the end of the account is reached, no man of british birth can read the last words, 'now mark this, if the expeditionary force--and i ask for no more than two hundred men--does not come within ten days, the town may fall; and i have done my best for the honour of our country. good-bye,' without being thrilled with vain regrets and futile resolutions. and then the account stops short. nor will the silence ever be broken. the sixth instalment of the journals was despatched on the th of december; and when it is finished the reader, separated suddenly from the pleasant companionship, experiences a feeling of loss and annoyance. imagination, long supported, is brushed aside by stern reality. henceforward gordon's perils were unrecorded. i would select one episode only from the journals as an example of the peculiarity and the sternness of charles gordon's character--his behaviour towards slatin. this austrian officer had been governor of darfur with the rank in the egyptian service of bey. for four years he had struggled vainly against the rebellion. he had fought numerous engagements with varied success. he had been several times wounded. throughout his province and even beyond its limits he bore the reputation of a brave and capable soldier. the story of his life of suffering and adventure, written by himself, is widely known, and he is thought by those who have read it to be a man of feeling and of honour. by those who enjoy his personal acquaintance this belief is unhesitatingly confirmed. he had, however, committed an act which deprived him of gordon's sympathy and respect. during the fighting in darfur, after several defeats, his mohammedan soldiers were discouraged and attributed their evil fortune to the fact that their commander was an infidel under the curse of the almighty. slatin therefore proclaimed himself a follower of the prophet, and outwardly at least adopted the faith of islam. the troops, delighted at his conversion and cheered by the hope of success, renewed their efforts, and the resistance of the governor of darfur was prolonged. the end, however, was deferred, not averted. after the destruction of general hicks's army slatin was compelled to surrender to the dervishes. the religion he had assumed to secure victory he observed to escape death. the arab leaders, who admired his courage, treated him at first with respect and kindness, and he was conducted to the mahdi in his encampment before khartoum. there during the siege he remained, closely watched but not imprisoned. thence he wrote letters to gordon explaining his surrender, excusing his apostacy, and begging that he might be allowed--not even assisted--to escape to khartoum. the letters are extant, and scarcely anyone who reads them, reflecting on the twelve years of danger and degradation that lay before this man, will refuse their compassion. gordon was inflexible. before the arrival of the letters his allusions to slatin are contemptuous: 'one cannot help being amused at the mahdi carrying all the europeans about with him--nuns, priests, greeks, austrian officers--what a medley, a regular etat-major!' [journals at khartoum.] he is suspicious of the circumstances of his surrender. 'the greek... says slatin had , ardebs of dura, , cows, and plenty of ammunition: he has been given eight horses by the mahdi.' he will not vouch for such a man; but he adds, with characteristic justice, 'all this information must be taken with reserve.' at length the letters came. at the peril of his life, when ordered to write and demand the surrender of the town, slatin substituted an appeal to gordon to countenance his escape. this is the uncompromising minute in the journals: 'oct. . the letters of slatin have arrived. i have no remarks to make on them, and cannot make out why he wrote them.' in the afternoon, indeed, he betrays some pity; but it is the pity of a man for a mouse. 'he is evidently not a spartan... he will want some quarantine... one feels sorry for him.' the next day he is again inexorable, and gives his reasons clearly. 'i shall have nothing to do with slatin's coming here to stay, unless he has the mahdi's positive leave, which he is not likely to get; his doing so would be the breaking of his parole which should be as sacred when given to the mahdi as to any other power, and it would jeopardise the safety of all these europeans, prisoners with mahdi.' slatin's position, it should be observed, was not that of an officer released on parole, but of a prisoner of war in durance in the enemy's camp. in such circumstances he was clearly entitled to escape at his own proper risk. if his captors gave him the chance, they had only themselves to blame. his position was not dissimilar from that of the black soldiers who had been captured by the dervishes and were now made to serve against the government. these deserted to khartoum daily, and the general fully acquiesced in their doing so. as to slatin's escape affecting the treatment of the other european prisoners, it must be observed that when at various times escapes were effected from omdurman, and ultimately when slatin himself escaped, no ill-treatment was inflicted on the rest of the prisoners; and even had such ill-treatment been the certain consequence of an escape, that need not have debarred a man, according to the customs of war, from attempting to regain his liberty. nothing but his free and formal promise, obtained in return for favours received, can alienate that right. if the mahdi chose to slaughter the remaining prisoners, the responsibility rested with the mahdi. slatin was, however, in no position to argue his case. his correspondence with gordon was discovered. for some days his life hung on a thread. for several months he was heavily chained and fed on a daily handful of uncooked doura, such as is given to horses and mules. tidings of these things were carried to gordon. 'slatin,' he observes icily, 'is still in chains.' he never doubted the righteousness of the course he had adopted, never for an instant. but few will deny that there were strong arguments on both sides. many will assert that they were nicely balanced. gordon must have weighed them carefully. he never wavered. yet he needed slatin. he was alone. he had no one in whose military capacity he could put the slightest confidence. again and again in the journals he expresses his want of trustworthy subordinates. he could not be everywhere, he said. 'nearly every order has to be repeated two or three times. i am weary of my life.' 'what one has felt so much here is the want of men like gessi, or messadaglia, or slatin, but i have no one to whom i could entrust expeditions.....' this was the man who would have employed zubehr and bowed to expediency. but zubehr had never 'denied his lord.' the actual defence of khartoum is within the province of the journals, nor shall i attempt a chronological account. after the th of september, when general gordon sent colonel stewart and messrs. power and herbin down the river in the ill-fated abbas steamer, he was altogether alone. many men have bowed to the weight of responsibility. gordon's responsibility was undivided. there was no one to whom he could talk as an equal. there was no one to whom he could--as to a trusty subordinate--reveal his doubts. to some minds the exercise of power is pleasant, but few sensations are more painful than responsibility without control. the general could not supervise the defence. the officers robbed the soldiers of their rations. the sentries slumbered at their posts. the townspeople bewailed their misfortunes, and all ranks and classes intrigued with the enemy in the hope of securing safety when the town should fall. frequent efforts were made to stir up the inhabitants or sap their confidence. spies of all kinds pervaded the town. the egyptian pashas, despairing, meditated treason. once an attempt was made to fire the magazine. once no less than eighty thousand ardebs of grain was stolen from the arsenal. from time to time the restless and ceaseless activity of the commander might discover some plot and arrest the conspirators; or, checking some account, might detect some robbery; but he was fully aware that what he found out was scarcely a tithe of what he could not hope to know. the egyptian officers were untrustworthy. yet he had to trust them. the inhabitants were thoroughly broken by war, and many were disloyal. he had to feed and inspirit them. the town itself was scarcely defensible. it must be defended to the end. from the flat roof of his palace his telescope commanded a view of the forts and lines. here he would spend the greater part of each day, scrutinising the defences and the surrounding country with his powerful glass. when he observed that the sentries on the forts had left their posts, he would send over to have them flogged and their superiors punished. when his 'penny steamers' engaged the dervish batteries he would watch, 'on tenter-hooks,' a combat which might be fatal to the defence, but which, since he could not direct it, must be left to officers by turns timid and reckless: and in the dark hours of the night he could not even watch. the journals, the only receptacle of his confidences, display the bitterness of his sufferings no less than the greatness of his character. 'there is no contagion,' he writes, 'equal to that of fear. i have been rendered furious when from anxiety i could not eat, i would find those at the same table were in like manner affected.' to the military anxieties was added every kind of worry which may weary a man's soul. the women clamoured for bread. the townsfolk heaped reproaches upon him. the quarrel with the british government had cut him very deeply. the belief that he was abandoned and discredited, that history would make light of his efforts, would perhaps never know of them, filled his mind with a sense of wrong and injustice which preyed upon his spirits. the miseries of the townsfolk wrung his noble, generous heart. the utter loneliness depressed him. and over all lay the shadow of uncertainty. to the very end the possibility that 'all might be well' mocked him with false hopes. the first light of any morning might reveal the longed-for steamers of relief and the uniforms of british soldiers. he was denied even the numbing anaesthetic of despair. yet he was sustained by two great moral and mental stimulants: his honour as a man, his faith as a christian. the first had put all courses which he did not think right once and for all out of the question, and so allayed many doubts and prevented many vain regrets. but the second was the real source of his strength. he was sure that beyond this hazardous existence, with all its wrongs and inequalities, another life awaited him--a life which, if he had been faithful and true here upon earth, would afford him greater faculties for good and wider opportunities for their use. 'look at me now,' he once said to a fellow-traveller, 'with small armies to command and no cities to govern. i hope that death will set me free from pain, and that great armies will be given me, and that i shall have vast cities under my command.' [lieut.-colonel n. newham davis, 'some gordon reminiscences,' published in the man of the world newspaper, december , .] such was his bright hope of immortality. as the severity of military operations increases, so also must the sternness of discipline. the zeal of the soldiers, their warlike instincts, and the interests and excitements of war may ensure obedience of orders and the cheerful endurance of perils and hardships during a short and prosperous campaign. but when fortune is dubious or adverse; when retreats as well as advances are necessary; when supplies fail, arrangements miscarry, and disasters impend, and when the struggle is protracted, men can only be persuaded to accept evil things by the lively realisation of the fact that greater terrors await their refusal. the ugly truth is revealed that fear is the foundation of obedience. it is certain that the influence of general gordon upon the garrison and townspeople of khartoum owed its greatest strength to that sinister element. 'it is quite painful,' he writes in his journals in september, 'to see men tremble so, when they come and see me, that they cannot hold the match to their cigarette.' yet he employed all other methods of inspiring their efforts. as the winter drew on, the sufferings of the besieged increased and their faith in their commander and his promises of relief diminished. to preserve their hopes--and, by their hopes, their courage and loyalty--was beyond the power of man. but what a great man in the utmost exercise of his faculties and authority might do, gordon did. his extraordinary spirit never burned more brightly than in these last, gloomy days. the money to pay the troops was exhausted. he issued notes, signing them with his own name. the citizens groaned under the triple scourge of scarcity, disease, and war. he ordered the bands to play merrily and discharged rockets. it was said that they were abandoned, that help would never come, that the expedition was a myth--the lie of a general who was disavowed by his government. forthwith he placarded the walls with the news of victories and of the advance of a triumphant british army; or hired all the best houses by the river's bank for the accommodation of the officers of the relieving force. a dervish shell crashed through his palace. he ordered the date of its arrival to be inscribed above the hole. for those who served him faithfully he struck medals and presented them with pomp and circumstance. others less laudable he shot. and by all these means and expedients the defence of the city was prolonged through the summer, autumn, and winter of and on into the year . all this time the public anxiety in england had been steadily growing. if gordon was abandoned, he was by no means forgotten. as his mission had been followed with intense interest throughout the whole country, so its failure had caused general despondency. disappointment soon gave place to alarm. the subject of the personal safety of the distinguished envoy was first raised in the house of commons on the th of march by lord randolph churchill. availing himself of the opportunities provided by supply, he criticised the vacillating policy of the government, their purposeless slaughter in the eastern soudan, and their failure to establish the suakin-berber route. he proceeded to draw attention to the perilous position of general gordon at khartoum. 'colonel coetlogon has stated that khartoum may be easily captured; we know that general gordon is surrounded by hostile tribes and cut off from communications with cairo and london; and under these circumstances the house has a right to ask her majesty's government whether they are going to do anything to relieve him. are they going to remain indifferent to the fate of the one man on whom they have counted to extricate them from their dilemmas, to leave him to shift for himself, and not make a single effort on his behalf?' [hansard's parliamentary debates, march , .] the government remained impassive. lord e. fitzmaurice made some sort of reply, and there were ministerial cheers. but the subject, once raised, was not allowed to drop. inspired and animated by the earnest energy of a young man, the opposition were continually growing stronger. the conduct of egyptian affairs afforded ample opportunity for criticism and attack. all through the summer months and almost every night ministers were invited to declare whether they would rescue their envoy or leave him to his fate. mr. gladstone returned evasive answers. the conservative press took the cue. the agitation became intense. even among the supporters of the government there was dissatisfaction. but the prime minister was obdurate and unflinching. at length, at the end of the session, the whole matter was brought forward in the gravest and most formal way by the moving of a vote of censure. the debate that followed sir michael hicks beach's motion was long and acrimonious. mr. gladstone's speech only increased the disquietude of his followers and the fury of the opposition. mr. forster openly declared his disagreement with his leader; and although lord hartington in winding up the debate threw out some hopes of an expedition in the autumn, the government majority fell on the division to twenty-eight. and after the prorogation the controversy was carried on with undiminished vigour outside the walls of parliament, and the clamour in the country grew louder and louder. it is usual to look upon mr. gladstone's conduct in the matter of the relief of gordon as dictated by benevolent weakness. history may take another view. strong and stubborn as was the character of the general, that of the minister was its equal. if gordon was the better man, gladstone was incomparably the greater. it was easy for the first minister of the crown to despatch an expedition against savages. he was accustomed to the exercise of power. compared with the resources of the empire, the enterprise was insignificant. few men have feared responsibility less than gladstone. on the other hand, the expressed desire of the nation was a force to which he had always bowed--to which, indeed, he owed his political existence. yet, in spite of the growing agitation throughout the land, he remained stern and silent. most men do what is right, or what they persuade themselves is right; nor is it difficult to believe that mr. gladstone did not feel justified in involving the nation in operations in the heart of the soudan for the purpose, not of saving the life of the envoy--for gordon had but to embark on his steamers and come home--but simply in order to vindicate the personal honour of a man. and it is possible that a feeling of resentment against the officer whose intractable nature was bringing such odium upon the government may have coloured his resolution with a darker tinge. but for all his power and influence he was forced to give way. the government which had long ignored the call of honour abroad, was driven to the soudan by the cries of shame at home. lord hartington, at that time secretary of state for war, must be dissociated from the general censure which his principal colleagues have incurred. he was the first to recognise the obligation which lay upon the cabinet, and through the cabinet upon the nation, and it was to his influence that the despatch of the relieving expedition was mainly due. the commander-in-chief and the adjutant-general, who were fully alive to the critical position at khartoum, added their recommendations. but even at the last moment mr. gladstone was induced to sanction the advance only by the belief that the scale of the operations would be small, and that only a single brigade would be necessary. the decision was taken forthwith by the ministry and announced to the nation. the adjutant-general, however, asked for a very different force from what the government had anticipated, and the single brigade was expanded into an expedition of ten thousand men, selected from the whole army. to reverse the decision was now, however, impossible, and the 'gordon relief expedition' began. the commander to whom the conduct of the operations had been entrusted reviewed the situation. he saw himself confronted with a task which was easy and safe if it were undertaken at leisure, and which was doubtful and perilous if begun in haste. all the fruits of a long and successful career were staked on the result, and it is scarcely wonderful that he declined to be swift and reckless. shrewdly estimating the military difficulties, he made his plans for a methodical and deliberate advance which would leave nothing to luck, and which resembles in character that afterwards carried out by sir h. kitchener. he excluded the idea of a wild glorious rush which might result in astonishing success or terrible disaster. troops and stores were steadily collected at wady halfa and along the nile. the new camel corps, consisting of four regiments, practised their drills and evolutions. to pilot the boats up the cataracts voyageurs were brought from canada. at length, when all preparations were complete, the expedition started. the plan was simple. a strong column of infantry in boats was to work up the river. in case that should not arrive in time, the camel corps was to strike across the bayuda desert from korti to metemma. having arrived there, a small detachment was to be thrown into khartoum by gordon's steamers to sustain the defence until the arrival of the main body in march or even april of , when the town could be regularly relieved. the dramatic character of the enterprise and its picturesque and original features fascinated the nation, and the advance was watched with breathless interest. the fortunes of the river column have been graphically described by one who played no small part in their attempt. 'the campaign of the cataracts' [by sir william butler] is a record of hard and unceasing toil. day after day the long lines of soldiers hauled on the tow-ropes or pulled at the oars of the broad-bottomed boats. night after night they camped on the banks amid the grim desolation of the monassir desert. yet their monotonous labours were encouraged by the knowledge that as soon as the bend of the river at abu hamed was reached the strong north wind would carry them swiftly to khartoum. and it seemed a strange and bitter irony that the order to turn back and the news that all had been in vain was announced to the troops on the very day when they had cleared the cataracts and were moving forward at five times their former speed. the desert column started from korti on the th of december. their strength did not exceed , officers and men, but they were the flower of the army. dropping their communications, they set forth along the caravan route towards metemma. the knowledge which we have since gained of the resources of the mahdists enables the peril of their desperate venture to be fully appreciated. although the dervishes were neither so well armed nor trained as at a later date, they were nearly as numerous and equally devoid of fear. their tactics were more in accordance with modern conditions: their fanaticism was at its height. the british force, on the other hand, was equipped with weapons scarcely comparable with those employed in the concluding campaigns. instead of the powerful lee-metford rifle, with its smokeless powder, its magazine action, and its absence of recoil, they were armed with the martini-henry, which possessed none of these advantages. in place of the deadly maxim there was the gardner gun--the very gun that jammed at tamai, and that jammed again at abu klea. the artillery was also in every respect inferior to that now in general use. besides all this, the principles of fire-discipline and of scientific musketry were new, little understood, and hardly admitted. nevertheless, the camel corps went boldly forward, and engaged an enemy whose destruction ultimately required the strength of a better-armed and better-instructed army twelve times as strong. on the rd of january they reached gakdul wells. a hundred miles of their march was accomplished. but they were now delayed by the necessity of escorting a second column of supplies to gakdul, and after that until the arrival of reinforcements which raised their strength to , of all ranks. the interval was employed in building two small forts and establishing an advanced depot; nor was it until the th that the march was resumed. the number of camels was not sufficient for the necessities of the transport. the food of the camels was too poor for the work they had to perform. by the th, however, they had made fifty miles, and approached the wells of abu klea. here their further advance was disputed by the enemy. the news of the advance of the desert column had been duly reported to the mahdi and his arab generals. a small party of english, it was said, with camels and some cavalry, were coming swiftly to the rescue of the accursed city. their numbers were few, scarce , men. how should they hope to prevail against 'the expected mahdi' and the conquering ansar who had destroyed hicks? they were mad; yet they should die; not one should escape. the delay in the advance offered ample opportunity. a great force of arabs was concentrated. slatin relates how several thousand men under important emirs were detached from the army before khartoum and marched northward eager for the slaughter of 'the enemies of god.' at metemma the main strength of the jaalin tribe was collected. with the reinforcements from omdurman the total force of the arabs actually at hand was not less than , , and behind were many thousands more. they permitted the little column to advance until their retreat, if defeated, was impossible, and then, confident of victory, offered battle near the wells of abu klea. the camel corps remained halted during the morning of the th, and built a small fort, in which they placed their reserve of stores, and made some arrangement for the reception of wounded. at one o'clock they moved leisurely forward, passed through the rocky defile which led into the valley of abu klea and bivouacked. early the next morning the force moved out in square formation and advanced upon the enemy. the most savage and bloody action ever fought in the soudan by british troops followed. notwithstanding the numbers and the valour of the arabs, that they penetrated the square, and that they inflicted on the troops a loss of nine officers and sixty-five men killed and nine officers and eighty-five men wounded-- percent of the entire force--they were driven from the field with great slaughter, and the desert column camped at the wells. on the morning of the th they rested, placed their wounded in the small fort they had built, and buried their dead. in the afternoon they continued their advance, marched all through the night, and, having covered twenty-three miles, halted exhausted, almost within sight of the river, at daylight on the th. meanwhile the enemy had again collected in great strength, and an effective rifle fire was opened on the column. sir herbert stewart received the wound of which a few weeks later he died. the command devolved upon sir charles wilson. the position was desperate. water was running short. the nile was only four miles away; but the column were impeded by their wounded and stores, and between the river and the thirsty men lay the dervish army, infuriated by their losses and fully aware of the sore straits to which their astonishing enemy was now reduced. it now became necessary to divide the small force. some must remain to guard the baggage and the wounded; the others must fight their way to the water. at three o'clock in the afternoon of the th, men left the hastily made zeriba and marched towards the river. without their camels or those of the transport they appeared insignificant, a mere speck on the broad plain of metemma. the dervishes hastened to clinch the matter. the square advances slowly and painfully over the stony ground, with frequent jerky halts to preserve order and to pick up the wounded. little puffs of white smoke dot the distant sandhills. here and there a gaudy flag waves defiantly. in front the green tops of the palm-trees by the nile tantalise but stimulate the soldiers. on the left the great mud labyrinth of metemma stretches indefinitely. suddenly the firing stops. the low scrub in front is alive with the swarming figures of the enemy. all the flags dance forward together. ragged white figures spring up in hundreds. emirs on horses appear as if by magic. everywhere are men running swiftly forward, waving their spears and calling upon the prophet of god to speed their enterprise. the square halts. the weary men begin to fire with thoughtful care, the dervishes drop thickly. on then, children of the desert! you are so many, they are so few. they are worn with fatigue and their throats are parched. you have drunk deeply of the nile. one rush will trample the accursed under the feet of the faithful. the charge continues. a bugle sounds in the waiting square. the firing stops. what is this? they lose heart. their ammunition is exhausted. on, then, and make an end. again the smoke ripples along the line of bayonets and fire is re-opened, this time at closer range and with far greater effect. the stubborn grandeur of the british soldier is displayed by desperate circumstances. the men shoot to hit. the attack crumples. the emirs--horse and man--collapse. the others turn and walk--for they will not run--sullenly back towards the town. the square starts forward. the road to the river is open. with dusk the water is reached, and never have victors gained a more longed-for prize. the nile is won. gordon remains. sir charles wilson, having collected his force, remained three days by the bank of the nile before attempting any further advance on khartoum. he has explained why this delay was necessary, to the satisfaction of most military critics. nor is it easy to believe that men who had made such splendid efforts would have willingly lost a single moment. on the fourth day he embarked on two of gordon's steamers, which awaited the relieving column, and taking with him twenty british soldiers and a few blue-jackets set forth towards the shabluka gorge and the town that lay beyond. on the th of january the rescuers came in sight of khartoum and under the fire of the enemy. many of their perilous adventures seem to belong to romance rather than to reality: the tiny gimcrack boats struggling with the strong stream of the cataract, running the gauntlet of the arab guns, dropping disconsolately down the river with their terrible news, or wrecked and stranded on the sandbank; stuart-wortley rowing to the camp before metemma for help; beresford starting in the remaining steamer; the bursting of the boiler by a dervish shell; benbow mending it in a single day; wilson's rescue and the return to the entrenchment at gubat. but the scene that appeals to the imagination above all the others is that where with both banks ablaze with musketry and artillery, the black smoke pouring through the shot-holes in the funnels, the water rising in spurts from the bullets, the men who had come so far and braved so much stared at the palace roof and, seeing no flag flying, knew that all was over and that they had come too late. the news of the dervish defeats at abu klea and abu kru impelled the mahdi to a desperate venture. the english were but miles away. they were few, but victorious. it was difficult to say what force could stop such men. in spite of the wrath of the true god and the valour of islam they might prevail. the mahdi depended on success for existence. the tremendous forces of fanaticism are exerted only in a forward direction. retreat meant ruin. all must be staked on an immediate assault. and, besides, the moment was ripe. thus the arab chiefs reasoned, and wisely resolved to be reckless. thus the night of the th of january arrived. the band played as usual in the evening. gradually the shadows fell and it became dark. the hungry inhabitants betook themselves to bed. the anxious but indomitable commander knew that the crisis impended, and knew also that he was powerless to avert it. perhaps he slept, satisfied that he had done his duty; and in the silence of the night the savage enemy crawled stealthily towards the town. the weary and disheartened sentinels, weakened by famine and tired of war, maintained a doubtful vigilance along the ramparts. the subsiding waters of the river had left a bare gap between the white nile and the wall. perhaps there was treachery besides. on a sudden the loud explosion of musketry broke the stillness of the night and the slumbers of the people; and with a continual shouting thousands of dervishes swarmed through the unprotected space and entered khartoum. one mob of assailants made their way to the palace. gordon came out to meet them. the whole courtyard was filled with wild, harlequin figures and sharp, glittering blades. he attempted a parley. 'where is your master, the mahdi?' he knew his influence over native races. perhaps he hoped to save the lives of some of the inhabitants. perhaps in that supreme moment imagination flashed another picture before his eyes; and he saw himself confronted with the false prophet of a false religion, confronted with the european prisoners who had 'denied their lord,' offered the choice of death or the koran; saw himself facing that savage circle with a fanaticism equal to, and a courage greater than, their own; marching in all the pride of faith 'and with retorted scorn' to a martyr's death. it was not to be. mad with the joy of victory and religious frenzy, they rushed upon him and, while he disdained even to fire his revolver, stabbed him in many places. the body fell down the steps and lay--a twisted heap--at the foot. there it was decapitated. the head was carried to the mahdi. the trunk was stabbed again and again by the infuriated creatures, till nothing but a shapeless bundle of torn flesh and bloody rags remained of what had been a great and famous man and the envoy of her britannic majesty. the blood soaked into the ground, and left a dark stain which was not immediately effaced. slatin mentions that the arabs used often to visit the place. ohrwalder went himself, and more than six weeks after the capture of the town, saw 'black spots' upon the steps. but they have all since been obliterated. such, briefly, is the story of the fall of khartoum and of the death of gordon. the fact that the two steamers arrived only two days after the capture of the town has given colour to the belief that, but for the three days' delay at metemma, the catastrophe might have been averted. this view appears incorrect. the arabs had long held khartoum at their mercy. they hoped, indeed, to compel its surrender by famine and to avoid an assault, which after their experience at el obeid they knew must cost them dear. gordon has stated in his journals that the town became defenceless by the middle of december. the arrival of twenty british soldiers and a few officers could not have materially affected the situation--could only, in fact, have increased the loss. yet nearly everyone who reads the tale will wish--in spite of reason--that some help, however little, had reached the lonely man; that before the darkness fell he had grasped an english hand, and learned that his countrymen had not abandoned him, had not forgotten--would never forget. it may not be possible as yet to fix the exact place which charles gordon will occupy in english history. it is certainly a high one. whether he will rank as a commander with peterborough, wolfe, and olive, those who come after us must decide. we may, however, assert that he was a man of stainless honour and enduring courage, who in varied capacities displayed a fertile and abundant genius. he was careless alike of the honours and comforts of the world, and looked forward with firm faith to the rewards of a future state. the severity of his religion did not impair the amiability of his character. the uncertainty of his moods may have frequently affected the soundness of his opinions, but not often the justice of his actions. gordon's statue, set up in the indignant grief of the nation in the space which is appropriated to the monuments of great captains by sea and land, claims the attention of the passer-by, not only because it is comparatively new. the figure, its pose, and its story are familiar even to the poorest citizens of london and to people from all parts of the united kingdom. serene amid the noise of the traffic, as formerly in that of the battle, the famous general seems still, with bowed head and thoughtful countenance, to revolve the problems of the dark soudan and, inattentive to the clamour of men, inquires what is acceptable to god. with the capture of the city and the death of the envoy the reason for the expedition disappeared. it remained only to withdraw the troops. the stores which had been brought across the desert at a terrible cost were thrown hastily into the nile. the battered steamers which had waited so long at metemma were hurriedly dismantled. the camel corps, their extraordinary efforts futile and their camels killed, marched back on foot to korti. their retreat was pressed by the exultant enemy. the river column, whose boats after months of labour had just cleared the cataracts, and who had gained a success at kirbekan, were carried back swiftly by the strong current against which they had hopefully struggled. the whole expeditionary force--guards, highlanders, sailors, hussars, indian soldiers, canadian voyageurs, mules, camels, and artillery--trooped back forlornly over the desert sands, and behind them the rising tide of barbarism followed swiftly, until the whole vast region was submerged. for several months the garrison of kassala under a gallant egyptian maintained a desperate resistance, but at last famine forced them to surrender, and they shared the fate of the garrisons of el obeid, darfur, sobat, tokar, sinkat, sennar, and khartoum. the evacuation of the soudan was thus completed. chapter iii: the dervish empire it might seem at first a great advantage that the peoples of the soudan, instead of being a multitude of wild, discordant tribes, should unite of their own accord into one strong community, actuated by a common spirit, living under fixed laws, and ruled by a single sovereign. but there is one form of centralised government which is almost entirely unprogressive and beyond all other forms costly and tyrannical--the rule of an army. such a combination depends, not on the good faith and good will of its constituents, but on their discipline and almost mechanical obedience. mutual fear, not mutual trust, promotes the co-operation of its individual members. history records many such dominations, ancient and modern, civilised or barbaric; and though education and culture may modify, they cannot change their predominant characteristics--a continual subordination of justice to expediency, an indifference to suffering, a disdain of ethical principles, a laxity of morals, and a complete ignorance of economics. the evil qualities of military hierarchies are always the same. the results of their rule are universally unfortunate. the degree may vary with time and place, but the political supremacy of an army always leads to the formation of a great centralised capital, to the consequent impoverishment of the provinces, to the degradation of the peaceful inhabitants through oppression and want, to the ruin of commerce, the decay of learning, and the ultimate demoralisation even of the military order through overbearing pride and sensual indulgence. of the military dominations which history records, the dervish empire was probably the worst. all others have displayed compensating virtues. a high sense of personal honour has counterbalanced a low standard of public justice. an ennobling patriotism may partly repair economic follies. the miseries of the people are often concealed by the magnificence of the army. the laxity of morals is in some degree excused by the elegance of manners. but the dervish empire developed no virtue except courage, a quality more admirable than rare. the poverty of the land prevented magnificence. the ignorance of its inhabitants excluded refinement. the dervish dominion was born of war, existed by war, and fell by war. it began on the night of the sack of khartoum. it ended abruptly thirteen years later in the battle of omdurman. like a subsidiary volcano, it was flung up by one convulsion, blazed during the period of disturbance, and was destroyed by the still more violent shock that ended the eruption. after the fall of khartoum and the retreat of the british armies the mahdi became the absolute master of the soudan. whatever pleasures he desired he could command, and, following the example of the founder of the mohammedan faith, he indulged in what would seem to western minds gross excesses. he established an extensive harem for his own peculiar use, and immured therein the fairest captives of the war. the conduct of the ruler was imitated by his subjects. the presence of women increased the vanity of the warriors: and it was not very long before the patched smock which had vaunted the holy poverty of the rebels developed into the gaudy jibba of the conquerors. since the unhealthy situation of khartoum amid swamps and marshes did not commend itself to the now luxurious arabs, the mahdi began to build on the western bank of the white nile a new capital, which, from the detached fort which had stood there in egyptian days, was called omdurman. among the first buildings which he set his subjects to construct were a mosque for the services of religion, an arsenal for the storage of military material, and a house for himself. but while he was thus entering at once upon the enjoyments of supreme power and unbridled lust, the god whom he had served, not unfaithfully, and who had given him whatever he had asked, required of mohammed ahmed his soul; and so all that he had won by his brains and bravery became of no more account to him. in the middle of the month of june, scarcely five months after the completion of his victorious campaigns, the mahdi fell sick. for a few days he did not appear at the mosque. the people were filled with alarm. they were reassured by remembering the prophecy that their liberator should not perish till he had conquered the earth. mohammed, however, grew worse. presently those who attended him could doubt no longer that he was attacked by typhus fever. the khalifa abdullah watched by his couch continually. on the sixth day the inhabitants and the soldiers were informed of the serious nature of their ruler's illness, and public prayers were offered by all classes for his recovery. on the seventh day it was evident that he was dying. all those who had shared his fortunes--the khalifas he had appointed, the chief priests of the religion he had reformed, the leaders of the armies who had followed him to victory, and his own family whom he had hallowed--crowded the small room. for some hours he lay unconscious or in delirium, but as the end approached he rallied a little, and, collecting his faculties by a great effort, declared his faithful follower and friend the khalifa abdullah his successor, and adjured the rest to show him honour. 'he is of me, and i am of him; as you have obeyed me, so you should deal with him. may god have mercy upon me!' [slatin, fire and sword.] then he immediately expired. grief and dismay filled the city. in spite of the emphatic prohibition by law of all loud lamentations, the sound of 'weeping and wailing arose from almost every house.' the whole people, deprived at once of their acknowledged sovereign and spiritual guide, were shocked and affrighted. only the mahdi's wives, if we may credit slatin, 'rejoiced secretly in their hearts at the death of their husband and master,' and, since they were henceforth to be doomed to an enforced and inviolable chastity, the cause of their satisfaction is as obscure as its manifestation was unnatural. the body of the mahdi, wrapped in linen, was reverently interred in a deep grave dug in the floor of the room in which he had died, nor was it disturbed until after the capture of omdurman by the british forces in , when by the orders of sir h. kitchener the sepulchre was opened and the corpse exhumed. the khalifa abdullah had been declared by the mahdi's latest breath his successor. he determined to have the choice ratified once for all by the popular vote. hurrying to the pulpit in the courtyard of the mosque, he addressed the assembled multitude in a voice which trembled with intense excitement and emotion. his oratory, his reputation as a warrior, and the mahdi's expressed desire aroused the enthusiasm of his hearers, and the oath of allegiance was at once sworn by thousands. the ceremony continued long after it was dark. with an amazing endurance he harangued till past midnight, and when the exhausted slatin, who hard attended him throughout the crisis, lay down upon the ground to sleep, he knew that his master's succession was assured; for, says he, 'i heard the passers-by loud in their praises of the late mahdi, and assuring each other of their firm resolve to support his successor.' the sovereignty that abdullah had obtained must be held, as it had been won, by the sword. the passionate agitation which the mahdi had excited survived him. the whole of the soudan was in a ferment. the success which had crowned rebellion encouraged rebels. all the turbulent and fanatical elements were aroused. as the various provinces had been cleared of the egyptians, the new executive had appointed military governors by whom the country was ruled and taxed, subject to the pleasure of mohammed ahmed. his death was the signal for a long series of revolts of all kinds--military, political, and religious. garrisons mutinied; emirs plotted; prophets preached. nor was the land torn only by internal struggles. its frontiers were threatened. on the east the tremendous power of abyssinia loomed terrible and menacing. there was war in the north with egypt and around suakin with england. the italians must be confronted from the direction of massowa. far to the south emin pasha still maintained a troublesome resistance. yet the khalifa triumphed over nearly all his enemies; and the greatest spectacle which the soudan presented from to was of this strong, capable ruler bearing up against all reverses, meeting each danger, overcoming each difficulty, and offering a firm front to every foe. it is unlikely that any complete history of these events will ever be written in a form and style which will interest a later generation. the complications of extraordinary names and the imperfection of the records might alone deter the chronicler. the universal squalor of the scenes and the ignorance of the actors add discouragements. nor, upon the other hand, are there great incentives. the tale is one of war of the cruellest, bloodiest, and most confused type. one savage army slaughters another. one fierce general cuts his rival's throat. the same features are repeated with wearying monotony. when one battle is understood, all may be imagined. above the tumult the figure of the khalifa rises stern and solitary, the only object which may attract the interest of a happier world. yet even the khalifa's methods were oppressively monotonous. for although the nature or courage of the revolts might differ with the occasion, the results were invariable; and the heads of all his chief enemies, of many of his generals, of most of his councillors, met in the capacious pit which yawned in omdurman. during the thirteen years of his reign abdullah tried nearly every device by which oriental rulers have sought to fortify their perilous sovereignty. he shrank from nothing. self-preservation was the guiding principle of his policy, his first object and his only excuse. among many wicked and ingenious expedients three main methods are remarkable. first, he removed or rendered innocuous all real or potential rivals. secondly, he pursued what sir alfred milner has called 'a well-considered policy of military concentration.' thirdly, he maintained among the desert and riverain people a balance of power on the side of his own tribe. all these three methods merit some attention or illustration. the general massacre of all possible claimants usually follows the accession of a usurper to an oriental throne. the khalifa was able to avoid this extreme measure. nevertheless he took precautions. availing himself of the grief and terror that had followed mohammed ahmed's death, he had extorted the oath of allegiance from the two other khalifas and from the 'ashraf' or relations of the prophet. [the madhi had superseded the original mohammed as 'the prophet.' his relations consequently became 'ashraf.'] but these complaisant men soon repented of their submission. each khalifa boasted his independence. each marched attended by a numerous retinue. each asserted his right to beat his own great copper drum. both the unsuccessful khalifas combined against abdullah. but while they had been busy with the beating of war-drums and the preparation of pageants, that sagacious ruler had secured the loyalty of the baggara tribe, to a section of which he belonged, and of a considerable force of black riflemen. at length matters reached climax. both parties prepared for war. abdullah drew up his array without the city, and challenged his rivals to the utmost proof. the combined forces of the ousted khalifas were the more numerous. but the fierce baggara waved their swords, and the soudanese riflemen were famous for their valour. for some hours a bloody struggle appeared imminent. then the confederacy broke up. the khalifa ali-wad-helu, a prudent man, talked of compromise and amity. the khalif sherif, thus seriously weakened, hastened to make peace while time remained. eventually both bowed to the superior force of the ruler and the superior courage of his followers. once they had submitted, their power was gone. abdullah reduced their forces to a personal escort of fifty men each, deprived them of their flags and their war-drums--the emblems of royalty--and they became for the future the useful supporters of a government they were unable to subvert. to other less powerful and more stubborn enemies he showed a greater severity. the mahdi's two uncles, named respectively abdel kerim and abdel kader, were thrown chained into prison, their houses were destroyed, and their wives and other property confiscated. the numerous persons who claimed to be of the 'ashraf' found the saintly honour a burden upon earth; for, in order to keep them out of mischief, the khalifa enjoined them to attend five times every day at the prayers in the mosque. eighteen months of these devotions, declares the christian chronicler, were considered 'the highest punishment.' [ohrwalder, ten years' captivity.] still more barbarous was the treatment meted out to the unfortunate emir who had charge of the treasury. ahmed wad suliman had been accustomed under the mahdi's mild rule to keep no public accounts, and consequently he had amassed a large fortune. he was actively hostile to abdullah, and proclaimed his sympathy with the ashraf. whereupon the khalifa invited him to give an account of his stewardship. this he was, of course, unable to do. he was then dismissed from his appointment. his private property was taken to fill the deficiencies of the state, and the brutal population of omdurman applauded his punishment as 'an act of justice.' [slatin, fire and sword.] although the khalifa might establish his authority by such atrocities, its maintenance depended on the military policy which he consistently pursued. the terrible power of a standing army may usually be exerted by whoever can control its leaders, as a mighty engine is set in motion by the turning of a handle. yet to turn the handle some muscular force is necessary. abdullah knew that to rule the soudan he must have a great army. to make the great army obedient he must have another separate force; for the influences which keep european armies in subjection were not present among the dervishes. for some years, indeed, he was compelled to leave much to chance or the loyalty of his officers. but latterly, when he had perfected his organisation, he became quite independent and had no need to trust anyone. by degrees and with astonishing ability he carried out his schemes. he invited his own tribe, the taaisha section of the baggara arabs, to come and live in omdurman. 'come,' he wrote in numerous letters to them, 'and take possession of the lands which the lord your god has given you.' allured by the hopes of wealth and wives and the promise of power, the savage herdsmen came to the number of , warriors. their path was made smooth and easy. granaries were erected along the route. steamers and sailing-vessels waited on the nile. arrived at the capital, all were newly clothed at the expense of the state. an entire district of the city was forcibly cleared of its inhabitants for the accommodation of the strangers. what the generosity of the khalifa forgot or refused, the predatory habits of his clansmen procured; and they robbed, plundered, and swindled with all the arrogance and impunity of royal favourites. the populace of the city returned a bitter hatred for these injuries; and the khalifa's object was attained. he had created a class in omdurman who were indissolubly attached to him. like him, they were detested by the local tribes. like him, they were foreigners in the land. but, like him, they were fierce and brave and strong. his dangers, his enemies, his interests were their own. their lives depended on their loyalty. here was the motor muscle which animated the rest. the taaisha baggara controlled the black jehadia, once the irregular troops of the egyptians, now become the regulars of the khalifa. the black jehadia overawed the arab army in the capital. the army in the capital dominated the forces in the provinces. the forces in the provinces subdued the inhabitants. the centralisation of power was assured by the concentration of military material. cannon, rifles, stores of ammunition, all the necessities of war were accumulated in the arsenal. only the armies on the frontiers, the taaisha tribe, and the khalifa's personal bodyguard habitually carried firearms and cartridges. the enormous population of omdurman was forced to be content with spears and swords. rifles were issued to the soudanese whenever safe and necessary; cartridges only when they were about to be used. thus several millions of warlike and savage people, owning scarcely any law but that of might, and scattered about a vast roadless territory, were brought into the firm grip of a single man. the third principle of government which the khalifa was compelled, or inclined, to adopt was to keep the relative power of the various tribes and classes conveniently proportioned. if an emir rose to great influence and wealth, he became a possible rival, and suffered forthwith death, imprisonment, or spoliation. if a tribe threatened the supremacy of the taaisha it was struck down while its menace was yet a menace. the regulation of classes and tribes was a far more complicated affair than the adjustment of individuals. yet for thirteen years the khalifa held the balance, and held it exact until the very end. such was the statecraft of a savage from kordofan. his greatest triumph was the abyssinian war. it is not likely that two great barbaric kingdoms living side by side, but differing in race and religion, will long continue at peace; nor was it difficult to discover a cause of the quarrel between the dervishes and the abyssinians. for some time a harassing and desultory warfare disturbed the border. at length in a dervish--half-trader, half brigand--sacked an abyssinian church. bas adal, the governor of the amhara province, demanded that this sacrilegious robber should be surrendered to justice. the arabs haughtily refused. the response was swift. collecting an army which may have amounted to , men, the abyssinians invaded the district of gallabat and marched on the town. against this host the emir wad arbab could muster no more than , soldiers. but, encouraged by the victories of the previous four years, the dervishes accepted battle, in spite of the disparity of numbers. neither valour nor discipline could withstand such odds. the moslems, broken by the fierce onset and surrounded by the overwhelming numbers of their enemies, were destroyed, together with their intrepid leader. scarcely any escaped. the abyssinians indulged in all the triumphs of savagery. the wounded were massacred: the slain were mutilated: the town of gallabat was sacked and burnt. the women were carried into captivity. all these tidings came to omdurman. under this heavy and unexpected blow the khalifa acted with prudence. he opened negotiations with king john of abyssinia, for the ransom of the captured wives and children, and at the same time he sent the emir yunes with a large force to gallabat. the immediate necessities having thus been dealt with, abdullah prepared for revenge. of all the arab leaders which fifteen years of continual war and tumult throughout the soudan produced, none displayed higher ability, none obtained greater successes, and none were more honourable, though several were more famous, than the man whom the khalifa selected to avenge the destruction of the gallabat army. abu anga had been a slave in abdullah's family long before the mahdi had preached at abba island and while egypt yet oppressed the country. after the revolt had broken out, his adventurous master summoned him from the distant kordofan home to attend him in the war, and abu anga came with that ready obedience and strange devotion for which he was always distinguished. nominally as a slave, really as a comrade, he fought by abdullah's side in all the earlier battles of the rebellion. nor was it until after the capture of el obeid that he rose suddenly to power and place. the khalifa was a judge of men. he saw very clearly that the black soudanese troops, who had surrendered and were surrendering as town after town was taken, might be welded into a powerful weapon. and in abu anga he knew a man who could not only fashion the blade, but would hold it ever loyally at his master's disposal. the former slave threw himself into the duties of his command with extraordinary energy. his humble origin pleased the hardy blacks, who recognised in their leader their equal in birth, their superior in prowess. more than any other emir, abu anga contributed to the destruction of hicks's army. the jehadia, as his soldiers were called--because they had joined in the jehad, or holy war--were armed with remington rifles, and their harassing fire inflicted heavy losses on the struggling column until it was finally brought to a standstill, and the moment for the spearmen to charge arrived. henceforward the troops of abu anga became famous throughout the land for their weapons, their courage, and their cruelty. their numbers at first did not exceed , ; but as more towns were taken and more slaves were turned into soldiers they increased, until at one time they reached the formidable total of , men. during the siege of khartoum the black riflemen distinguished themselves by the capture of omdurman fort, but their violent natures and predatory instincts made them an undesirable garrison even for the dervish capital, and they were despatched under their general to kordofan, where they increased their reputation by a series of bloody fights with the nubas, an aboriginal mountain people who cared for nothing but their independence. at the end of june abu anga reached omdurman with an army variously estimated at from , to , men, of whom at least , were armed with remington rifles. the khalifa received him with the utmost honour. after a private interview, which lasted for several hours, a formal entry into the town was arranged. at daybreak on the following morning the whole force marched into the city and camped along the northern suburbs, applauded and welcomed alike by the population and their ruler. a few days after this a great review was held under the kerreri hills, on the very ground where the dervish empire was doomed to be shattered. but the fateful place oppressed the khalifa with no forebodings. he exulted in his power: and well he might, for after the cannon had thundered indefinite salutes, no fewer than , armed men defiled to the music of the war-drums and the ombyas before the famous black flag. the spectacle of the enormous numbers provoked their enthusiasm. the triumphant khalifa was cheered by his mighty host, who pressed upon him in their exuberant loyalty until he was almost crushed. it was indeed a stirring scene. the whole plain was filled with the throng. banners of every hue and shape waved gaily in the breeze, and the sunlight glinted from innumerable spear-points. the swarming dervishes displayed their bright parti-coloured jibbas. the wild baggara cavalry circled on the flanks of the array. the brown dome of the mahdi's tomb, rising above the city, seemed to assure the warriors of supernatural aid. abdullah was at the summit of his power. the movement initiated by the priest of abba island had attained its climax. behind, in the plain, the frowning rocks of surgham hill rose ragged and gloomy, as if their silence guarded the secrets of the future. after the feast of bairam had been celebrated on a gigantic scale, abu anga was despatched to gallabat with his army and considerable reinforcements from the troops in omdurman, and it became evident that war with abyssinia was imminent. the great leader relieved the emir yunes, much to the latter's disgust, of the chief command, and, since the strong gallabat garrison was added to his own force, abu anga was able to take the field at the head of , riflemen and , spearmen. the khalifa had embarked on a great venture in planning the invasion of abyssinia. the vast strength of the negus was known to the dervishes, and has since been proved to the world. the mahdi had forbidden such a war. an ill-omened prophecy further declared that the king of abyssinia would tether his horse to a solitary tree by khartoum, while his cavalry should ride through the city fetlock deep in blood. but abdullah feared neither god nor man. he reviewed the political situation, and determined at all risks to maintain his frontiers inviolate. his emir wad arbab had been killed. blood must settle the matter. the abyssinians had not watched the extensive hostile preparations apathetically. ras adal had collected an army which in numbers actually exceeded that of the dervishes. but the latter were far superior in rifles, and the black infantry were of invincible valour. nevertheless, confident in his strength and relying on his powerful cavalry, the abyssinian general allowed the arabs to toil through all the mountainous country, to traverse the mintik pass, and to debouch unmolested on to the plain of debra sin. abu anga neglected no precaution. he knew that since he must fight in the heart of abyssinia, with the mountains behind him, a defeat would involve annihilation. he drew up his army swiftly and with skill. then the abyssinians attacked. the rifle fire of the soudanese repulsed them. the onset was renewed with desperate gallantry. it was resisted with equal valour and superior weapons. after frightful losses the abyssinians wavered, and the wise arab seized the moment for a counterstroke. in spite of the devotion of his cavalry ras adal was driven from the field. great numbers of his army were drowned in the river in front of which he had recklessly elected to fight. his camp was captured, and a valuable spoil rewarded the victors, who also gratified their passions with a wholesale slaughter of the wounded--a practice commonly followed by savages. the effect of the victory was great. the whole of the amhara province submitted to the invaders, and in the spring of abu anga was able to advance without further fighting to the capture and sack of gondar, the ancient capital of abyssinia. meanwhile the khalifa had been anxiously expecting tidings of his army. the long silence of thirty days which followed their plunge into the mountains filled him with fear, and ohrwalder relates that he 'aged visibly' during that period. but his judgment was proved by the event, and the arrival of a selected assortment of heads turned doubt to triumph. the dervishes did not long remain in abyssinia, as they suffered from the climate. in december the army returned to gallabat, which they commenced to fortify, and their victorious general followed his grisly but convincing despatch to omdurman, where he received the usual welcome accorded by warlike peoples to military heroes. but the famous and faithful slave may have been more gratified by the tears of joy which his master and sovereign shed on beholding him again safe and successful. the greater struggle was still to come. the whole of abyssinia was convulsed with fury, and king john in person prepared to take the field and settle the quarrel for ever. he assembled a mighty host, which is said to have amounted to , foot and , horsemen. the rumours of this formidable concentration reached gallabat and omdurman, and in spite of the recent victory caused deep alarm. the khalifa saw his frontiers--even his existence--menaced, for king john had declared that he would sweep the dervishes from off the face of the earth: and in the hour of need the general on whom so much depended died of some poisonous medicine with which he had endeavoured to cure himself of indigestion. abu anga was buried in his red-brick house at gallabat amid the lamentations of his brave black soldiers, and gloom pervaded the whole army. but, since the enemy were approaching, the danger had to be faced. the khalifa appointed zeki tummal, one of anga's lieutenants, to the command of the forces at gallabat, which by strenuous exertions he brought up to a total of , men. king john sent word that he was coming, lest any should say that he had come secretly as a thief. the dervishes resolved to remain on the defensive, and, fortifying themselves in an enormous zeriba around the town, awaited the onslaught. at dawn on the th of march, , the abyssinians came within sight of their enemies, and early the next morning the battle began. great clouds of dust obscured the scene, and all intelligible sounds were lost in the appalling din. the abyssinians, undaunted by the rifle fire of the soudanese, succeeded in setting the zeriba alight. then, concentrating all their force on one part of the defence, they burst into the enclosure and town. the division of wad ali, a fourth part of the entire dervish army, which bore the brunt of this attack, was almost completely destroyed. the interior of the zeriba was crowded with women and children, who were ruthlessly butchered by the exultant abyssinians. the assailants scattered in all directions in search of plunder, and they even had time to begin to disinter the body of abu anga, which they were eager to insult in revenge for gondar. the dervishes already wavered; their ammunition began to fail, when suddenly a rumour spread about among the abyssinians that the king was killed. seizing what booty they could snatch, the victorious army began a general retreat, and the zeriba was soon cleared. the arabs were too exhausted to pursue, but when on the following day the attack was not renewed they learned, to their surprise, that they were the victors and that their enemy was falling back towards the atbara river. zeki tummal resolved to pursue, and his army were further incited to the chase by the fact that the abyssinians had carried off with them a large number of dervish women, including the harem of the late beloved abu anga. two days after the battle the dervishes overtook the enemy's rearguard and, surprising their camp, inflicted severe loss and captured much booty. the temporary negus who had been appointed to fill the vacancy caused by the death of king john was among the killed. the body of that courageous monarch fell into the hands of the dervishes, who struck off the head and sent it--a tangible proof of victory--to omdurman. the abyssinians, still formidable, made good their retreat; nor did zeki tummal venture to follow into the mountains. internal difficulties within his dominions prevented the new negus from resuming the offensive, and thus the dervish-abyssinian war dwindled down to, as it had arisen out of, frontier raids. the arrival in omdurman of king john's head intoxicated the khalifa with joy. abyssinia was regarded throughout the soudan as a far greater power than egypt, and here was its mighty ruler slain and decapitated. but the victory had been dearly purchased. the two great battles had been fought with indescribable ferocity by both sides, and the slaughter was appalling. no reliable statistics are avaliable, but it may be reasonably asserted that neither side sustained a loss in killed during the war of fewer than , fighting men. the flower of the dervish army, the heroic blacks of abu anga, were almost destroyed. the khalifa had won a pyrrhic triumph. never again was he able to put so great a force in the field, and, although the army which was shattered at omdurman was better armed and better drilled, it was less formidable than that which broke the might of abyssinia. during the progress of the struggle with abyssinia the war against egypt languished. the mahdi, counting upon the support of the population, had always declared that he would free the delta from 'the turks,' and was already planning its invasion when he and his schemes were interrupted by death. his successor inherited all the quarrel, but not all the power. much of mohammed ahmed's influence died with him. alive, he might conquer the moslem world; dead, he was only a saint. all fanatical feeling in egypt soon subsided. nevertheless the khalifa persisted in the enterprise. the success of the abyssinian war encouraged and enabled him to resume the offensive on his northern frontier, and he immediately ordered wad-el-nejumi, who commanded in dongola, to march with his scanty force to the invasion of egypt. the mad enterprise ended, as might have been foreseen, in the destruction of both emir and army at toski. the khalifa received the news with apparent grief, but it is difficult to avoid suspecting him of dark schemes. he was far too clever to believe that egypt could be conquered by five thousand men. he knew that besides the egyptians there was a strange white tribe of men, the same that had so nearly saved khartoum. 'but for the english,' he exclaimed on several occasions, 'i would have conquered egypt.' yet, knowing of the british occupation, he deliberately sent an army to its inevitable ruin. it is difficult to reconcile such conduct with the character for sagacity and intelligence which abdullah has deserved. there is no doubt that he wanted to conquer egypt. possibly by some extraordinary chance wad-el-nejumi might succeed, even with his small force. if so, then the glory of god and the power of the khalifa would advance together. if not--and herein lies the true reason for the venture--the riverain tribes would have received a crippling blow. the terrible slaughter of the abyssinian war had fallen mainly on the jehadia and the eastern arabs. the jealous tribes in the north had not suffered. the balance of power was in need of re-adjustment. the jaalin and barabra were fast becoming dangerous. nejumi's army was recruited almost entirely from these sources. the reinforcements sent from omdurman consisted of men selected from the flag of the khalifa sherif, who was growing too powerful, and of the batahin tribe, who had shown a mutinous spirit [ohrwalder, ten years' captivity.] the success of such an army in egypt would be glorious. its destruction anywhere would be convenient. whatever abdullah's motives may have been, his advantage was certain. but the life of the empire thus compelled to prey upon itself must necessarily be short. other forces were soon added to the work of exhaustion. the year following the end of the abyssinian war was marked by a fearful famine. slatin and ohrwalder vie with each other in relating its horrors--men eating the raw entrails of donkeys; mothers devouring their babies; scores dying in the streets, all the more ghastly in the bright sunlight; hundreds of corpses floating down the nile--these are among the hideous features, the depopulation caused by the scarcity was even greater than that produced by the fighting. the famine area extended over the whole soudan and ran along the banks of the river as far as lower egypt. the effects of the famine were everywhere appalling. entire districts between omdurman and berber became wholly depopulated. in the salt regions near shendi almost all the inhabitants died of hunger. the camel-breeding tribes ate their she-camels. the riverain peoples devoured their seed-corn. the population of gallabat, gedaref, and kassala was reduced by nine-tenths, and these once considerable towns shrank to the size of hamlets. everywhere the deserted mud houses crumbled back into the plain. the frightful mortality, general throughout the whole country, may be gauged by the fact that zeki tummal's army, which before the famine numbered not fewer than , , could scarcely muster , men in the spring of . the new harvest came only in time to save the inhabitants of the soudan from becoming extinct. the remnant were preserved for further misfortunes. war, scarcity, and oppression there had always been. but strange and mysterious troubles began to afflict the tortured tribes. the face of heaven was pitiless or averted. in innumerable swarms of locusts descended on the impoverished soil. the multitude of their red or yellow bodies veiled the sun and darkened the air, and although their flesh, tasting when roasted like fried shrimps, might afford a delicate meal to the natives, they took so heavy a toll of the crops that the famine was prolonged and scarcity became constant. since their first appearance the locusts are said to have returned annually [ohrwalder, ten years' captivity.] their destructive efforts were aided by millions of little red mice, who destroyed the seeds before they could grow. so vast and immeasurable was the number of these tiny pests that after a heavy rain the whole country was strewn with, and almost tinted by, the squirrel-coloured corpses of the drowned. yet, in spite of all the strokes of fate, the khalifa maintained his authority unshaken. the centralisation which always occurs in military states was accelerated by the famine. the provincial towns dwindled; thousands and tens of thousands perished; but omdurman continually grew, and its ruler still directed the energies of a powerful army. thus for the present we might leave the dervish empire. yet the gloomy city of blood, mud, and filth that arose by the confluence of the niles deserves a final glance while still in the pride of independent barbarism. it is early morning, and the sun, lifting above the horizon, throws the shadows of the khartoum ruins on the brimful waters of the nile. the old capital is solitary and deserted. no sound of man breaks the silence of its streets. only memory broods in the garden where the pashas used to walk, and the courtyard where the imperial envoy fell. across the river miles of mud houses, lining the banks as far as khor shambat, and stretching back into the desert and towards the dark hills, display the extent of the arab metropolis. as the sun rises, the city begins to live. along the road from kerreri a score of camels pad to market with village produce. the north wind is driving a dozen sailing-boats, laden to the water's edge with merchandise, to the wharves. one of gordon's old steamers lies moored by the bank. another, worked by the crew that manned it in egyptian days, is threshing up the blue nile, sent by the khalifa to sennar on some errand of state. far away to the southward the dust of a darfur caravan breaks the clear-cut skyline with a misty blur. the prolonged beating of war-drums and loud booming notes of horns chase away the silence of the night. it is friday, and after the hour of prayer all grown men must attend the review on the plain without the city. already the streets are crowded with devout and obedient warriors. soon the great square of the mosque--for no roof could shelter so many thousand worshippers--is filled with armed men, kneeling in humble supplication to the stern god of islam and his most holy mahdi. it is finished. they rise and hurry to the parade. the emirs plant their flags, and all form in the ranks. woe to the laggard; and let the speedy see that he wear his newest jibba, and carry a sharp sword and at least three spears. presently the array is complete. a salute of seven guns is fired. mounted on a fine camel, which is led by a gigantic nubian, and attended by perhaps two hundred horsemen in chain armour, the khalifa rides on to the ground and along the ranks. it is a good muster. few have dared absent themselves. yet his brow is clouded. what has happened? is there another revolt in the west? do the abyssinians threaten gallabat? have the black troops mutinied; or is it only some harem quarrel? the parade is over. the troops march back to the arsenal. the rifles are collected, and the warriors disperse to their homes. many hurry to the market-place to make purchases, to hear the latest rumour, or to watch the executions--for there are usually executions. others stroll to the suk-er-rekik and criticise the points of the slave girls as the dealers offer them for sale. but the khalifa has returned to his house, and his council have been summoned. the room is small, and the ruler sits cross-legged upon his couch. before him squat the emirs and kadis. yakub is there, with ali-wad-helu and the khalifa sherif. only the sheikh-ed-din is absent, for he is a dissolute youth and much given to drinking. abdullah is grave and anxious. a messenger has come from the north. the turks are on the move. advancing beyond their frontier, they have established themselves at akasha. wad bishara fears lest they may attack the faithful who hold firket. in itself this is but a small matter, for all these years there has been frontier fighting. but what follows is full of menacing significance. the 'enemies of god' have begun to repair the railway--have repaired it, so that the train already runs beyond sarras. even now they push their iron road out into the desert towards their position at akasha and to the south. what is the object of their toil? are they coming again? will they bring those terrible white soldiers who broke the hearts of the hadendoa and almost destroyed the degheim and kenana? what should draw them up the nile? is it for plunder, or in sheer love of war; or is it a blood feud that brings them? true, they are now far off. perchance they will return, as they returned before. yet the iron road is not built in a day, nor for a day, and of a surety there are war-clouds in the north. chapter iv: the years of preparation in the summer of , when all the troops had retreated to wady halfa and all the soudan garrisons had been massacred, the british people averted their eyes in shame and vexation from the valley of the nile. a long succession of disasters had reached their disgraceful culmination. the dramatic features added much to the bitterness and nothing to the grandeur of the tragedy. the cost was heavy. besides the pain produced by the death of general gordon, the heavy losses in officers and men, and the serious expenditure of public money, the nation smarted under failure and disappointment, and were, moreover, deeply sensible that they had been humiliated before the whole world. the situation in egypt was scarcely more pleasing. the reforms initiated by the british administrators had as yet only caused unpopularity. baring's interference galled the khedive and his ministers. vincent's parsimony excited contempt. moncrieff's energy had convulsed the irrigation department. wood's army was the laughing-stock of europe. among and beneath the rotten weeds and garbage of old systems and abuses the new seed was being sown. but england saw no signs of the crop; saw only the stubborn husbandmen begrimed with the dust and dirt, and herself hopelessly involved in the egyptian muddle: and so in utter weariness and disgust, stopping her ears to the gibes and cat-calls of the powers, she turned towards other lands and other matters. when the attention of the nation was again directed to egypt the scene was transformed. it was as though at the touch of an angel the dark morasses of the slough of despond had been changed to the breezy slopes of the delectable mountains. the khedive and his ministers lay quiet and docile in the firm grasp of the consul-general. the bankrupt state was spending surpluses upon internal improvement. the disturbed irrigation department was vivifying the land. the derided army held the frontier against all comers. astonishment gave place to satisfaction, and satisfaction grew into delight. the haunting nightmare of egyptian politics ended. another dream began--a bright if vague vision of imperial power, of trans-continental railways, of african viceroys, of conquest and commerce. the interest of the british people in the work of regeneration grew continually. each new reform was hailed with applause. each annual budget was scrutinised with pride. england exulted in the triumph of failure turned into success. there was a general wish to know more about egypt and the men who had done these great things. in this desire was satisfied, and yet stimulated by the publication of sir alfred milner's 'england in egypt.' his skilful pen displayed what had been overcome, no less than what was accomplished. by explaining the difficulties he enhanced the achievement. he showed how, while great britain was occupied elsewhere, her brilliant, persevering sons had repeated on a lesser scale in egypt the marvellous evolution which is working out in india. smaller systems circulate more rapidly. the administrators were guided by experience. the movement had been far swifter, and the results were more surprising. such was the wonderful story, and it was told in a happy moment. the audience were eager and sympathetic. the subject was enthralling. the story-teller had a wit and a style that might have brightened the dullest theme. in these propitious circumstances the book was more than a book. the words rang like the trumpet-call which rallies the soldiers after the parapets are stormed, and summons them to complete the victory. the regeneration of egypt is not a theme which would fall within the limits of this account, even if it had not been fully dealt with by sir alfred milner. but the reorganisation of the egyptian army, the forging of the weapon of reconquest, is an essential feature. on the th of december, , the old egyptian army--or, rather, such parts as had escaped destruction--was disbanded by a single sentence of a british decree, and it was evident that some military body must replace that which had been swept away. all sorts of schemes for the employment of foreign legions or turkish janissaries were devised. but lord dufferin adhered firmly to the principle of entrusting the defence of a country to its inhabitants, and it was determined to form a new egyptian army. the poverty of the government, no less than the apparent folly of the experiment, demanded that the new army should be small. the force was intended only for the preservation of internal order and the defence of the southern and western frontiers of egypt against the bedouin arabs. the soudan still slumbered out its long nightmare. six thousand men was the number originally drawn by conscription--for there are no volunteers in egypt--from a population of more than , , . twenty-six british officers--either poor men attracted by the high rates of pay, or ambitious allured by the increased authority--and a score of excellent drill-sergeants undertook the duty of teaching the recruits to fight. sir evelyn wood directed the enterprise, and became the first british sirdar of the egyptian army. the work began and immediately prospered. within three months of its formation the army had its first review. the whole , paraded in their battalions and marched past the khedive and their country's flag. their bearing and their drill extorted the half-contemptuous praise of the indifferent spectators. experienced soldiers noticed other points. indeed, the new army differed greatly from the old. in the first place, it was paid. the recruits were treated with justice. their rations were not stolen by the officers. the men were given leave to go to their villages from time to time. when they fell sick, they were sent to hospital instead of being flogged. in short, the european system was substituted for the oriental. it was hardly possible that the fertile soil and enervating climate of the delta would have evolved a warrior race. ages of oppression and poverty rarely produce proud and warlike spirits. patriotism does not grow under the 'kourbash.' the fellah soldier lacks the desire to kill. even the mohammedan religion has failed to excite his ferocity. he may be cruel. he is never fierce. yet he is not without courage--a courage which bears pain and hardship in patience, which confronts ill-fortune with indifference, and which looks on death with apathetic composure. it is the courage of down-trodden peoples, and one which stronger breeds may often envy, though they can scarcely be expected to admire. he has other military virtues. he is obedient, honest, sober, well-behaved, quick to learn, and, above all, physically strong. generations of toiling ancestors, though they could not brace his nerves, have braced his muscles. under the pressure of local circumstances there has been developed a creature who can work with little food, with little incentive, very hard for long hours under a merciless sun. throughout the river campaigns, if the intellect of the army, if the spirit of the troops, have come from without, egypt herself has provided the sinews of war. such was the material out of which the british officers have formed the new egyptian army. at first, indeed, their task was embittered by the ridicule of their comrades in the british and indian services; but as the drill and bearing of the force improved, the thoughtless scorn would have been diverted from the englishmen to fall only upon the egyptian soldiers. but this was not allowed. the british officers identified themselves with their men. those who abused the fellah soldier were reminded that they insulted english gentlemen. thus a strange bond of union was established between the officers and soldiers of the egyptian service; and although material forces may have accomplished much, without this moral factor the extraordinary results would never have been achieved. it was not long before the new military organisation was exposed to the stern test of war. the army that was raised to preserve internal order was soon called upon to guard the frontier. the revolt in the soudan, which in its earlier stages seemed the least of the egyptian difficulties, speedily dwarfed all the rest. the value of the new force was soon recognised. in june we find general hicks, then preparing for his fatal march, writing to sir evelyn wood: 'send me four battalions of your new army, and i shall be content.' but fortune protected the infant organisation from such a disastrous beginning. the 'new army' remained for a space in cairo; and although during the nile expedition of - the egyptians were employed guarding the lines of communication, it was not until the british troops had been withdrawn from dongola that they received at ginniss their baptism of fire. henceforth their place was on the frontier, and from onward the egyptian troops proved equal to the task of resisting the northward pressure of the dervishes. the numbers of the army grew with its responsibilities. up to the end of the infantry still consisted of eight fellahin battalions. in the first soudanese battalion was raised. the black soldier was of a very different type from the fellahin. the egyptian was strong, patient, healthy, and docile. the negro was in all these respects his inferior. his delicate lungs, slim legs, and loosely knit figure contrasted unfavourably with the massive frame and iron constitution of the peasant of the delta. always excitable and often insubordinate, he required the strictest discipline. at once slovenly and uxorious, he detested his drills and loved his wives with equal earnestness; and altogether 'sambo'--for such is the soudanese equivalent of 'tommy'--was a lazy, fierce, disreputable child. but he possessed two tremendous military virtues. to the faithful loyalty of a dog he added the heart of a lion. he loved his officer, and feared nothing in the world. with the introduction of this element the egyptian army became a formidable military machine. chance or design has placed the blacks ever in the forefront of the battle, and in lord kitchener's campaigns on the nile the losses in the six soudanese battalions have exceeded the aggregate of the whole of the rest of the army. it was well that the egyptian troops were strengthened by these valiant auxiliaries, for years of weary war lay before them. sir reginald wingate, in his exhaustive account of the struggle of egypt with the mahdist power, [mahdism and the egyptian soudan, sir reginald wingate] has described the successive actions which accompanied the defence of the wady halfa frontier and of suakin. the ten years that elapsed between ginniss and the first movements of the expedition of re-conquest were the dreary years of the egyptian army. the service was hard and continual. though the operations were petty, an untiring vigilance was imperative. the public eye was averted. a pitiless economy was everywhere enforced. the british officer was deprived of his leave and the egyptian private of his rations, that a few pounds might be saved to the egyptian treasury. the clothing of the battalions wore thin and threadbare, and sometimes their boots were so bad that the soldiers' feet bled from the cutting edges of the rocks, and the convoy escorts left their trails behind them. but preparation was ever going forward. the army improved in efficiency, and the constant warfare began to produce, even among the fellahin infantry, experienced soldiers. the officers, sweltering at weary wady halfa and suakin, looked at the gathering resources of egypt and out into the deserts of the declining dervish empire and knew that some day their turn would come. the sword of re-conquest which evelyn wood had forged, and grenfell had tested, was gradually sharpened; and when the process was almost complete, the man who was to wield it presented himself. horatio herbert kitchener, the eldest son of a lieutenant-colonel, was born in , and, after being privately educated, entered in the royal military academy at woolwich as a cadet of the royal engineers. in the spring of he obtained his commission, and for the first ten years of his military service remained an obscure officer, performing his duties with regularity, but giving no promise of the talents and character which he was afterwards to display. one powerful weapon, however, he acquired in this time of waiting. in accident or instinct led him to seek employment in the surveys that were being made of cyprus and palestine, and in the latter country he learned arabic. for six years the advantage of knowing a language with which few british officers were familiar brought him no profit. for procuring military preferment arabic was in as valueless as patagonian. all this was swiftly changed by the unexpected course of events. the year brought the british fleet to alexandria, and the connection between england and egypt began to be apparent. kitchener did not neglect his opportunity. securing leave of absence, he hurried to the scene of crisis. alexandria was bombarded. detachments from the fleet were landed to restore order. the british government decided to send an army to egypt. british officers and soldiers were badly wanted at the seat of war; an officer who could speak arabic was indispensable. thus kitchener came to egypt and set his feet firmly on the high road to fortune. he came to egypt when she was plunged in misery and shame, when hopeless ruin seemed already the only outcome of the public disasters, and when even greater misfortunes impended. he remained to see her prosperous and powerful; to restore empire to her people, peace to her empire, honour to her army; and among those clear-minded men of action by whom the marvellous work of regeneration has been accomplished, herbert kitchener will certainly occupy the second place. lord wolseley on his arrival soon found employment for the active officer who could speak arabic. he served through the campaign of as a major. he joined the new army which was formed at the conclusion of the war, as one of the original twenty-six officers. in the nile expedition of arabic again led him to the front, and in the service of the intelligence department he found ample opportunity for his daring and energy. his efforts to communicate with gordon in khartoum did not, however, meet with much success, and the journals bristle with so many sarcastic comments that their editor has been at pains to explain in his preface that there was really no cause for complaint. major kitchener, however, gave satisfaction to his superiors in cairo, if not to the exacting general at khartoum, and in he was appointed governor of suakin. this post, always one of responsibility and danger, did not satisfy kitchener, whose ambition was now taking definite form. eager for more responsibility and more danger, he harried and raided the surrounding tribes; he restricted and almost destroyed the slender trade which was again springing up, and in consequence of his measures the neighbourhood of suakin was soon in even greater ferment than usual. this culminated at the end of in the re-appearance and advance of osman digna. the movements of the dervishes were, however, uncertain. the defences of the town had been greatly strengthened and improved by the skill and activity of its new governor. [see dispatch from major-general dormer to war office, cairo, april , : 'with regard to the military works and defenses of the town, i was much struck with the great improvement that has been effected by colonel kitchener since my last visit to suakin in the autumn of .] osman digna retreated. the 'friendlies' were incited to follow, and kitchener, although he had been instructed not to employ british officers or egyptian regulars in offensive operations, went out in support. at handub on the morning of the th of january, , the friendlies attacked the camp of osman digna. they were at first successful; but while they dispersed to plunder the enemy rallied and, returning, drove them back with loss. kitchener arrived on the field with the support, to find a defeat instead of a victory awaiting him. he bravely endeavoured to cover the retreat of the friendlies, and in so doing was severely--as it first seemed dangerously--wounded in the jaw. the loss among the friendlies and the support amounted to twenty men killed and two british officers and twenty-eight men wounded. the governor returned in great pain and some discomfiture to suakin. in spite of his wound and his reverse he was impatient to renew the conflict, but this was definitely forbidden by the british government. colonel kitchener's military conduct was praised, but his policy was prevented. 'the policy which it is desirable to follow ... in the eastern soudan,' wrote sir evelyn baring on the th of march, in measured rebuke, 'should consist in standing purely on the defensive against any hostile movement or combination of the arab tribes, in avoiding any course of action which might involve the ultimate necessity of offensive action, and in encouraging legitimate trade by every means in our power.' [sir e. baring to consul cameron, march , .] the governor could scarcely be expected to carry out a policy so much at variance with his views and inclinations, and in the summer of he was transferred to a purely military appointment and became adjutant-general of the egyptian army. for the next four years he worked busily in the war office at cairo, effecting many useful reforms and hard economies, and revealing powers of organisation which, although not yet appreciated by his comrades in the egyptian service, were noticed by one vigilant eye. in sir f. grenfell resigned the post of sirdar, and the chief command of the egyptian army was vacant. two men stood out prominently as candidates--colonel wodehouse, who held the command of the halfa field force, and the adjutant-general. colonel wodehouse had undoubtedly the greater claims. he had been for several years in command of a large force in continual contact with the enemy. he had won the action of argin, and was known throughout the soudan as 'the conqueror of wad-el-nejumi.' he had conducted the civil administration of the frontier province with conspicuous success, and he was popular with all ranks of the egyptian army. kitchener had little to set against this. he had shown himself a brave and active soldier. he was known to be a good official. but he had not been in accord with the government in his civil administration, and was, moreover, little known to his brother officers. sir evelyn baring's influence, however, turned the scale. somewhat, therefore, to the astonishment of the egyptian army, kitchener was promoted sirdar. lord cromer had found the military officer whom he considered capable of re-conquering the soudan when the opportunity should come. the years of preparation, wasted by no one in egypt, were employed by no department better than by the intelligence branch. the greatest disadvantage from which lord wolseley had suffered was the general ignorance of the soudan and its peoples. the british soldiers had had to learn the details of dervish fighting by bitter experience. but the experience, once gained, was carefully preserved. the intelligence branch of the egyptian army rose under the direction of colonel (now sir reginald) wingate to an extraordinary efficiency. for ten years the history, climate, geography, and inhabitants of the soudan were the objects of a ceaseless scrutiny. the sharp line between civilisation and savagery was drawn at wady halfa; but beyond that line, up the great river, within the great wall of omdurman, into the arsenal, into the treasury, into the mosque, into the khalifa's house itself, the spies and secret agents of the government--disguised as traders, as warriors, or as women--worked their stealthy way. sometimes the road by the nile was blocked, and the messengers must toil across the deserts to darfur, and so by a tremendous journey creep into omdurman. at others a trader might work his way from suakin or from the italian settlements. but by whatever route it came, information--whispered at halfa, catalogued at cairo--steadily accumulated, and the diaries of the intelligence department grew in weight and number, until at last every important emir was watched and located, every garrison estimated, and even the endless intrigues and brawls in omdurman were carefully recorded. the reports of the spies were at length confirmed and amplified by two most important witnesses. at the end of father ohrwalder made his escape from omdurman and reached the egyptian territory. besides giving the intelligence department much valuable information, he published a thrilling account of his captivity [ten years' captivity, father ohrwalder], which created a wide and profound impression in england. in a still more welcome fugitive reached assuan. early on the th of march a weary, travel-stained arab, in a tattered jibba and mounted on a lame and emaciated camel, presented himself to the commandant. he was received with delighted wonder, and forthwith conducted to the best bath-room available. two hours later a little austrian gentleman stepped forth, and the telegraph hastened to tell the news that slatin, sometime governor of darfur, had escaped from the khalifa's clutches. here at last was a man who knew everything that concerned the dervish empire--slatin, the khalifa's trusted and confidential servant, almost his friend, who had lived with him, who was even permitted to dine with him alone, who had heard all his counsels, who knew all his emirs, and moreover slatin, the soldier and administrator, who could appreciate all he had learned, was added with the rank of pasha to the staff of the intelligence department. while his accurate knowledge confirmed the belief of the egyptian authorities that the dervish power was declining, his tale of 'fire and sword in the soudan' increased the horror and anger of thoughtful people in england at the cruelties of the khalifa. public opinion began to veer towards the policy of re-conquest. the year brought in a conservative and unionist administration. a government came into office supported by a majority which was so strong that there seemed little reason to expect a transference of power for five or six years. ministers were likely to be able to carry to a definite conclusion any projects they might devise. they belonged chiefly to that party in the state which had consistently assailed mr. gladstone's egyptian policy. here was an opportunity of repairing the damage done by their opponents. the comparisons that would follow such an accomplishment were self-evident and agreeable even to anticipate. the idea of re-conquering the soudan presented itself indefinitely, but not unpleasingly, alike to the government and the people of great britain. the unforeseen course of events crystallised the idea into a policy. on the st of march, , the battle of adowa was fought, and italy at the hands of abyssinia sustained a crushing defeat. two results followed which affected other nations. first, a great blow had been struck at european prestige in north africa. it seemed probable that the abyssinian success would encourage the dervishes to attack the italians at kassala. it was possible that they might also attack the egyptians at suakin or on the wady halfa frontier. secondly, the value of italy as a factor in european politics was depreciated. the fact that her defeat had been assisted by the arms and munitions of war which had been supplied to the abyssinians from french and russian sources complicated the situation. the triple alliance was concerned. the third partner had been weakened. the balance might be restored if great britain would make some open sign of sympathy. moreover, the expectations of the egyptian military authorities were soon fulfilled. the dervishes threatened kassala as soon as the news of adowa reached them, and indeed there were signs of increased activity in omdurman itself. in these circumstances the british government determined to assist italy by making a demonstration on the wady halfa frontier. they turned to egypt. it had always been recognised that the recovery of the lost provinces was a natural and legitimate aspiration. 'the doubtful point was to decide the time when the military and financial resources of the country were sufficiently developed to justify an assumption of the offensive.' [lord cromer's reports: egypt, no. , .] from a purely egyptian point of view the best possible moment had not yet arrived. a few more years of recuperation were needed. the country would fight the soudan campaigns more easily if first refreshed by the great reservoirs which were projected. for more than two years both projects had been pressed upon the government of his highness the khedive--or, to write definitely, upon lord cromer. at regular intervals sir herbert kitchener and sir william garstin would successively visit the british agency (it would be treason to call it 'government house')--the one to urge the case for a war, the other to plead for a reservoir. the reservoir had won. only a few weeks before the advance to dongola was ordered garstin met kitchener returning from the agency. the engineer inquired the result of the general's interview. 'i'm beaten,' said kitchener abruptly; 'you've got your dam'--and garstin went on his way rejoicing. the decision of the british government came therefore as a complete surprise to the cairene authorities. the season of the year was unfavourable to military operations. the hot weather was at hand. the nile was low. lord cromer's report, which had been published in the early days of march, had in no way foreshadowed the event. the frontier was tranquil. with the exception of a small raid on a village in the wady halfa district and an insignificant incursion into the tokar delta the dervish forces had during the year maintained 'a strictly defensive attitude.' [egypt, no. , .] lord cromer, however, realised that while the case for the reservoirs would always claim attention, the re-conquest of the soudan might not receive the support of a liberal government. the increasing possibility of french intrigues upon the upper nile had also to be considered. all politics are series of compromises and bargains, and while the historian may easily mark what would have been the best possible moment for any great undertaking, a good moment must content the administrator. those who guarded the interests of egypt could hardly consent to an empty demonstration on the wady halfa frontier at her expense, and the original intention of the british government was at once extended to the re-conquest of the dongola province--a definite and justifiable enterprise which must in any case be the first step towards the recovery of the soudan. * * * * * * it will be convenient, before embarking upon the actual chronicle of the military operations, to explain how the money was obtained to pay for the war. i desire to avoid the intricate though fascinating tangles of egyptian finance. yet even when the subject is treated in the most general way the difficulties which harass and impede the british administrators and insult the sovereign power of egypt--the mischievous interference of a vindictive nation, the galling and almost intolerable financial fetters in which a prosperous country is bound--may arouse in the sympathetic reader a flush of annoyance, or at any rate a smile of pitying wonder. about half the revenue of egypt is devoted to the development and government of the country, and the other half to the payment of the interest on the debt and other external charges; and, with a view to preventing in the future the extravagance of the past, the london convention in prescribed that the annual expenditure of egypt shall not exceed a certain sum. when the expenditure exceeds this amount, for every pound that is spent on the government or development of egypt another pound must be paid to the commissioners of the debt; so that, after the limit is reached, for every pound that is required to promote egyptian interests two pounds must be raised by taxation from an already heavily taxed community. but the working of this law was found to be so severe that, like all laws which exceed the human conception of justice, it has been somewhat modified. by an arrangement which was effected in , the caisse de la dette are empowered, instead of devoting their surplus pound to the sinking fund, to pay it into a general reserve fund, from which the commissioners may make grants to meet 'extraordinary expenses'; those expenses, that is to say, which may be considered 'once for all'(capital) expenditure and not ordinary annual charges. the dongola expedition was begun, as has been said, without reference to the immediate internal condition of egypt. the moment was a good one, but not the best. it was obviously impossible for egypt to provide for the extraordinary expenses of the military operations out of revenue. the ministry of finance therefore appealed to the caisse de la dette for a grant from the general reserve fund. here was an obvious case of 'extraordinary expenses.' the egyptian government asked for £e , . the caisse met in council. six commissioners--representing england, france, russia, germany, austria, and italy--duly discussed the application. four commissioners considered that the grant should be made. two commissioners, those representing france and russia, voted against it. the majority decided. the grant was made. the money was handed to the egyptian government and devoted to the prosecution of the war. egypt as a sovereign power had already humbly begged to be allowed to devote part of the surplus of her own revenues to her own objects. a greater humiliation remained. the commissioners of france and russia, who had been out-voted, brought an action against their colleagues on the grounds that the grant was ultra vires; and against the egyptian government for the return of the money thus wrongly obtained. other actions were brought at french instigation by various people purporting to represent the bondholders, who declared that their interests were threatened. the case was tried before the mixed tribunals, an institution which exists in egypt superior to and independent of the sovereign rights of that country. on the part of the egyptian government and the four commissioners it was contended that the mixed tribunals had no competency to try the case; that the attacking parties had no right of action; that the egyptian government had, in applying, done all that the law of liquidation required; and that the act of sovereignty was complete as soon as the caisse, which was the legal representative of the bondholding interest, had pronounced its decision. the argument was a strong one; but had it been ten times as strong, the result would have been the same. the mixed tribunals, an international institution, delivered its judgment on strictly political grounds, the judges taking their orders from the different countries they represented. it was solemnly pronounced that war expenses were not 'extraordinary expenses.' the proximate destruction of the khalifa's power was treated quite as a matter of everyday occurrence. a state of war was apparently regarded as usual in egypt. on this wise and sensible ground the egyptian government were condemned to pay back £e , , together with interest and costs. after a momentary hesitation as to whether the hour had not come to join issue on the whole subject of the financial restrictions of egypt, it was decided to bow to this iniquitous decision. the money had now to be refunded. it had already been spent. more than that, other sums were needed for the carrying on of the war. the army was by then occupying dongola, and was in actual expectation of a dervish counter-attack, and it was evident that the military operations could not be suspended or arrested. it was impossible to stop; yet without money it seemed impossible to go on; and, besides, it appeared that egypt would be unable to repay the £e , which she had been granted, and of which she was now deprived. such was the painful and difficult situation which a friendly nation, in the utmost exercise of her wit and the extreme compass of her legal rights, had succeeded in producing in a country for whose welfare she had always professed an exaggerated regard. such was the effect of french diplomacy. but there is a nemesis that waits on international malpractices, however cunning. now, as before and since, the very astuteness of the french ministers and agents was to strike a terrible blow at french interests and french influence in egypt. at this period france still exercised a considerable force on egyptian politics. one egyptian party, the weaker, but still by no means insignificant, looked towards her for support. the news of the french success cheered their hearts and raised their spirits. orientals appreciate results. the result was a distinct reverse to the british. the conclusion to the native mind was obvious. great britain had been weighed in the european balances and found wanting. in all eastern countries a large proportion of the population fluctuates uncertainly, eager only to be on the winning side. all this volume of agitation and opinion began to glide and flow towards the stronger power, and when the egyptian government found their appeal from the decision of the court of first instance of the mixed tribunals to the international court of appeal at alexandria quashed, and the original decision confirmed, the defeat of the british was no less complete than the triumph of the french. but meanwhile the consul-general acted. on the nd of december he telegraphed to lord salisbury, reporting the judgment of the court of appeal and asking that he might be 'authorised to state directly that her majesty's government will be prepared to advance the money on conditions to be hereafter arranged.' the reply was prompt, though guarded. 'you are authorised,' said lord salisbury, 'by the chancellor of the exchequer to state that though of course the primary liability for the payment of the £e , rests with the egyptian government, her majesty's government will hold themselves prepared to advance, on conditions to be decided hereafter, such a sum as they feel satisfied that the egyptian treasury is powerless to provide.' [the original £ , was afterwards increased to £ , ; which sum was paid by the british exchequer to the egyptian government, at first as a loan, and later as a gift.] this obvious development does not seem to have been foreseen by the french diplomatists, and when, on the rd of december, it was rumoured in cairo that great britain was prepared to pay the money, a great feeling of astonishment and of uncertainty was created. but the chances of the french interference proving effective still seemed good. it was believed that the english government would not be in a position to make an advance to the egyptian government until funds had been voted by parliament for the purpose. it was also thought that egypt would be utterly unable to find the money immediately. in the meantime the position was humiliating. france conceived herself mistress of the situation. a complete disillusionment, however, awaited the french government. the taxes in egypt, as in other countries, are not collected evenly over the whole year. during some months there is a large cash balance in the exchequer. in others the money drains in slowly. it happened at this period of the year, after the cotton crop had been gathered, that a considerable balance had accumulated in the treasury, and on the guarantee of the english government being received, to the effect that they would ultimately assist egypt with regard to the expenses of the expedition, lord cromer determined to repay the money at once. the event was foreshadowed. on the th of december the egyptian council of ministers, presided over by the khedive in person, decided on their own initiative to despatch an official letter expressing in warm terms their gratitude for the financial help offered them by her majesty's government. 'i am desired,' said boutros pasha, 'to beg your lordship to be good enough to convey to his lordship the marquess of salisbury the expression of the lively gratitude of the khedive and the egyptian government for the great kindness which her majesty's government has shown to them on this occasion.' [egypt, no. , .] on the th of december £e , , together with £e , interest and costs, in gold, was conveyed in boxes in a cart from the egyptian treasury to the offices of the caisse de la dette. the effect was tremendous. all cairo knew of the difficulty. all cairo witnessed the manner in which it had been overcome. the lesson was too plain to be lost on the native mind. the reverse of the french diplomacy was far greater even than its success had appeared. for many years french influence in egypt had not received so heavy a blow; yet even in the short space of time which this story covers it was to receive a still more terrible wound. chapter v: the beginning of the war shortly before midnight on the th of march, , the sirdar received instructions from lord cromer authorising an expedition into the dongola province and directing him to occupy akasha. the next morning the news was published in the times, ostensibly as coming from its correspondent in cairo: and the egyptian cabinet was convened to give a formal assent by voting the decree. on the th the reserves were called out. on the th the khedive reviewed the cairo garrison; and at the termination of the parade sir h. kitchener informed him that the earliest battalions would start for the front that night. the egyptian frontier force had always been kept in a condition of immediate readiness by the restless activity of the enemy. the beginning of the long-expected advance was hailed with delight by the british officers sweltering at wady halfa and sarras. on sunday, the th of march, three days after the sirdar had received his orders, and before the first reinforcements had started from cairo, colonel hunter, who commanded on the frontier, formed a small column of all arms to seize and hold akasha. at dawn on the th the column started, and the actual invasion of the territory which for ten years had been abandoned to the dervishes began. the route lay through a wild and rocky country--the debatable ground, desolated by years of war--and the troops straggled into a long procession, and had several times for more than an hour to move in single file over passes and through narrow defiles strewn with the innumerable boulders from which the 'belly of stones' has derived its name. the right of their line of march was protected by the nile, and although it was occasionally necessary to leave the bank, to avoid difficult ground, the column camped each night by the river. the cavalry and the camel corps searched the country to the south and east; for it was expected that the dervishes would resist the advance. creeping along the bank, and prepared at a moment's notice to stand at bay at the water's edge, the small force proceeded on its way. wady atira was reached on the th, tanjore on the th, and on the th the column marched into akasha. the huts of the mud village were crumbling back into the desert sand. the old british fort and a number of storehouses--relics of the gordon relief expedition--were in ruins. the railway from sarras had been pulled to pieces. most of the sleepers had disappeared, but the rails lay scattered along the track. all was deserted: yet one grim object proclaimed the dervish occupation. beyond the old station and near the river a single rail had been fixed nearly upright in the ground. from one of the holes for the fishplate bolts there dangled a rotten cord, and on the sand beneath this improvised yet apparently effective gallows lay a human skull and bones, quite white and beautifully polished by the action of sun and wind. half-a-dozen friendly arabs, who had taken refuge on the island below the cataract, were the only inhabitants of the district. the troops began to place themselves in a defensive position without delay. on the nd the cavalry and camel corps returned with the empty convoy to sarras to escort to the front a second and larger column, under the command of major macdonald, and consisting of the xith and xiith soudanese, one company of the rd egyptians (dropped as a garrison at ambigole wells), and a heavy convoy of stores numbering six hundred camels. starting from sarras on the th, the column, after four days' marching, arrived without accident or attack, and macdonald assumed command of the whole advanced force. akasha was now converted into a strong entrenched camp, in which an advanced base was formed. its garrison of three battalions, a battery, and the mounted troops, drew their supplies by camel transport from sarras. the country to the south and east was continually patrolled, to guard against a turning movement, and the communications were further strengthened by the establishment of fortified posts at semna, wady atira, and tanjore. the friendly arab tribes--bedouin, kabbabish, and foggara--ranged still more widely in the deserts and occupied the scattered wells. all this time the dervishes watched supinely from their position at fuket, and although they were within a single march of akasha they remained inactive and made no attempt to disturb the operations. meanwhile the concentration of the egyptian army on the frontier was proceeding. the reservists obeyed the summons to the colours of their own free will and with gratifying promptness, instead of being tardily dragged from their homes in chains as in the days of ismail. all the battalions of the army were brought up to war strength. two new battalions of reservists were formed, the th and th. the th was placed at assuan and korosko on the line of communications. the th was despatched to suakin to release the two battalions in garrison there for service on the nile. the st battalion of the north staffordshire regiment was moved up the river from cairo to take the place of the wady halfa garrison of six battalions, which had moved on to sarras and akasha. a maxim battery of four guns was formed from the machine-gun sections of the staffordshires and connaught rangers and hurried south. the nd, th, th, and th egyptian battalions from cairo were passed in a continual succession along the railway and river to the front. in all this busy and complicated movement of troops the egyptian war office worked smoothly, and clearly showed the ability with which it was organised. the line of communications from cairo, the permanent base, to the advanced post at akasha was miles in length. but of this distance only the section lying south of assuan could be considered as within the theatre of war. the ordinary broad-gauge railway ran from cairo to balliana, where a river base was established. from balliana to assuan reinforcements and supplies were forwarded by messrs. cook's fleet of steamers, by barges towed by small tugs, and by a number of native sailing craft. a stretch of seven miles of railway avoids the first cataract, and joins assuan and shellal. above shellal a second flotilla of gunboats, steamers, barges, and nile boats was collected to ply between shellal and halfa. the military railway ran from halfa to sarras. south of sarras supplies were forwarded by camels. to meet the increased demands of transport, , camels were purchased in egypt and forwarded in boats to assuan, whence they marched via korosko to the front. the british government had authorised the construction of the military railway to akasha, and a special railway battalion was collected at assuan, through which place sleepers and other material at once began to pass to sarras. the strategic railway construction will, however, form the subject of a later chapter, which i shall not anticipate. by the st of april, less than three weeks from the commencement of the advance, the whole line of communications had been organised and was working efficiently, although still crowded with the concentrating troops. as soon as the th battalion of reservists arrived at suakin, the ixth soudanese were conveyed by transports to kossier, and marched thence across the desert to kena. the distance was miles, and the fact that in spite of two heavy thunderstorms--rare phenomena in egypt--it was covered in four days is a notable example of the marching powers of the black soldiers. it had been determined that the xth soudanese should follow at once, but circumstances occurred which detained them on the red sea littoral and must draw the attention of the reader thither. the aspect and history of the town and port of suakin might afford a useful instance to a cynical politician. most of the houses stand on a small barren island which is connected with the mainland by a narrow causeway. at a distance the tall buildings of white coral, often five storeys high, present an imposing appearance, and the prominent chimneys of the condensing machinery--for there is scarcely any fresh water--seem to suggest manufacturing activity. but a nearer view reveals the melancholy squalor of the scene. a large part of the town is deserted. the narrow streets wind among tumbled-down and neglected houses. the quaintly carved projecting windows of the facades are boarded up. the soil exhales an odour of stagnation and decay. the atmosphere is rank with memories of waste and failure. the scenes that meet the eye intensify these impressions. the traveller who lands on quarantine island is first confronted with the debris of the projected suakin-berber railway. two or three locomotives that have neither felt the pressure of steam nor tasted oil for a decade lie rusting in the ruined workshops. huge piles of railway material rot, unguarded and neglected, on the shore. rolling stock of all kinds--carriages, trucks, vans, and ballast waggons--are strewn or heaped near the sheds. the christian cemetery alone shows a decided progress, and the long lines of white crosses which mark the graves of british soldiers and sailors who lost their lives in action or by disease during the various campaigns, no less than the large and newly enclosed areas to meet future demands, increase the depression of the visitor. the numerous graves of greek traders--a study of whose epitaphs may conveniently refresh a classical education--protest that the climate of the island is pestilential. the high loopholed walls declare that the desolate scrub of the mainland is inhabited only by fierce and valiant savages who love their liberty. for eleven years all trade had been practically stopped, and the only merchants remaining were those who carried on an illicit traffic with the arabs or, with eastern apathy, were content to wait for better days. being utterly unproductive, suakin had been wisely starved by the egyptian government, and the gloom of the situation was matched by the poverty of its inhabitants. the island on which the town stands is joined to the mainland by a causeway, at the further end of which is an arched gateway of curious design called 'the gate of the soudan.' upon the mainland stands the crescent-shaped suburb of el kaff. it comprises a few mean coral-built houses, a large area covered with mud huts inhabited by arabs and fishermen, and all the barracks and military buildings. the whole is surrounded by a strong wall a mile and a half long, fifteen feet high, six feet thick, with a parapet pierced for musketry and strengthened at intervals by bastions armed with krupp guns. three strong detached posts complete the defences of suakin. ten miles to the northward, on the scene of sir h. kitchener's unfortunate enterprise, is the fort of handub. tambuk is twenty-five miles inland and among the hills. situate upon a high rock, and consisting only of a store, a formidable blockhouse, and a lookout tower, this place is safe from any enemy unprovided with artillery. both handub and tambuk were at the outset of the campaign provisioned for four months. the third post, tokar fort, lies fifty miles along the coast to the south. its function is to deprive the arabs of a base in the fertile delta of the tokar river. the fort is strong, defended by artillery, and requires for its garrison an entire battalion of infantry. no description of suakin would be complete without some allusion to the man to whom it owes its fame. osman digna had been for many years a most successful and enterprising arab slave dealer. the attempted suppression of his trade by the egyptian government drove him naturally into opposition. he joined in the revolt of the mahdi, and by his influence roused the whole of the hadendoa and other powerful tribes of the red sea shore. the rest is upon record. year after year, at a horrid sacrifice of men and money, the imperial government and the old slaver fought like wolves over the dry bone of suakin. baker's teb, el teb, tamai, tofrek, hashin, handub, gemaiza, afafit--such were the fights of osman digna, and through all he passed unscathed. often defeated, but never crushed, the wily arab might justly boast to have run further and fought more than any emir in the dervish armies. it had scarcely seemed possible that the advance on dongola could influence the situation around kassala, yet the course of events encouraged the belief that the british diversion in favour of italy had been effective; for at the end of march--as soon, that is to say, as the news of the occupation of akasha reached him--osman digna separated himself from the army threatening kassala, and marched with cavalry, camelry, and , foot towards his old base in the tokar delta. on the first rumour of his advance the orders of the xth soudanese to move via kossier and kena to the nile were cancelled, and they remained in garrison at tokar. at home the war office, touched in a tender spot, quivered apprehensively, and began forthwith to make plans to strengthen the suakin garrison with powerful forces. the state of affairs in the eastern soudan has always been turbulent. the authority of the governor of the red sea littoral was not at this time respected beyond the extreme range of the guns of suakin. the hadendoa and other tribes who lived under the walls of the town professed loyalty to the egyptian government, not from any conviction that their rule was preferable to that of osman digna, but simply for the sake of a quiet life. as their distance from suakin increased, the loyalty of the tribesmen became even less pronounced, and at a radius of twenty miles all the sheikhs oscillated alternately between osman digna and the egyptian government, and tried to avoid open hostilities with either. omar tita, sheikh of the district round about erkowit, found himself situated on this fringe of intriguing neutrality. although he was known to have dealings with osman, it was believed that if he had the power to choose he would side with the egyptian government. early in april omar tita reported that osman digna was in the neighbourhood of erkowit with a small force, and that he, the faithful ally of the government, had on the rd of the month defeated him with a loss of four camels. he also said that if the egyptian government would send up a force to fight osman, he, the aforesaid ally, would keep him in play until it arrived. after a few days of hesitation and telegraphic communication with the sirdar, colonel lloyd, the governor of suakin, who was then in very bad health, decided that he had not enough troops to justify him in taking the risk of going up to erkowit to fight osman. around suakin, as along the indian frontier, a battle was always procurable on the shortest notice. when a raid has taken place, the government may choose the scale of their reprisals. if they are poor, they will arrange a counter-raid by means of 'friendlies,' and nothing more will be heard of the affair. if they are rich, they will mobilise two or three brigades, and make an expedition or fight a pitched battle, so that another glory may be added to the annals of the british army. in the present instance the egyptian government were poor, and as the british government did not desire to profit by the opportunity it was determined to have only a small-scale operation. the governor therefore arranged a plan for a demonstration at the foot of the hills near khor wintri by means of combined movements from suakin and tokar. the garrison of suakin consisted of the st and half the th egyptian battalions; the th egyptian reservists, who had just replaced the ixth soudanese, and were as yet hardly formed into a military body; one squadron of cavalry, one company of camel corps, and some detachments of artillery. the garrison of tokar consisted of the xth soudanese and a few gunners. from these troops there was organised in the second week in april, with all due ceremony, a 'suakin field force.' the plan of campaign was simple. colonel lloyd was to march out from suakin and effect a junction with the 'tokar column' at khor wintri, where the erkowit road enters the hills. it was then hoped that osman digna would descend and fight a battle of the required dimensions in the open; after which, if victorious, the force would return to suakin and tokar. in order to make the suakin column as mobile as possible, the whole force was mounted on camels, of which more than , were requisitioned, as well as mules and donkeys. two hundred arabs accompanied the column to hold these beasts when necessary. six days' forage and rations, one day's reserve of water, rounds per man, and shell per gun were carried. at five o'clock on the afternoon of tuesday, the th of april, the troops paraded outside the walls of suakin, and bivouacked in the open ready to march at daylight. the next morning the column, which numbered about , men of all arms, started. after marching for four or five hours in the direction of khor wintri the cavalry, who covered the advance, came in contact with the dervish scouts. the force thereupon assumed an oblong formation: the mixed soudanese company and the two guns in front, three egyptian companies on each flank, the camel corps company in the rear, and the transport in the centre. the pace was slow, and, since few of the camels had ever been saddled or ridden, progress was often interrupted by their behaviour and by the broken and difficult nature of the country. nevertheless at about four o'clock in the afternoon, teroi wells, eight miles from khor wintri, were reached; and here, having marched nineteen miles, colonel lloyd determined to halt. while the infantry were making the zeriba, the cavalry were sent on under captain fenwick (an infantry officer employed on the staff) to gain touch with the tokar force, who were expected to have already reached the rendezvous. apparently under the belief that omar tita and his arabs would give timely notice of an attack, the cavalry seem to have neglected many of the usual precautions, and in consequence at about five o'clock, when approaching khor wintri, they found themselves suddenly confronted with a force of about dervish horsemen supported by a large body of infantry. the squadron wheeled about with promptitude, and began to retire at a trot. the dervish horsemen immediately pursued. the result was that the egyptians began a disorderly flight at a gallop through the thick and treacherous scrub and over broken, dangerous ground. sixteen horses fell; their riders were instantly speared by the pursuers. rallying thirty-eight troopers, captain fenwick seized a rocky hillock, and dismounting with the natural instinct of an infantry soldier, prepared to defend himself to the last. the remainder of the squadron continued their flight, and thirty-two troopers, under an egyptian officer (whose horse is said to have bolted), arrived at the teroi zeriba with the news that their comrades had been destroyed, or had perhaps 'returned to suakin,' and that they themselves had been closely followed by the enemy. the news caused the gravest anxiety, which was not diminished when it was found that the bush around the zeriba was being strongly occupied by dervish spearmen. two mounted men, who volunteered for the perilous duty, were sent to make their way through this savage cordon, and try to find either the remainder of the cavalry or the tokar column. both were hunted down and killed. the rest of the force continued in hourly expectation of an attack. their suspense was aggravated towards midnight, when the dervishes began to approach the zeriba. in the darkness what was thought to be a body of horsemen was seen moving along a shallow khor opposite the right face of the defence. at the same moment a loud yell was raised by the enemy on the other side. an uncontrolled musketry fire immediately broke out. the guns fired blindly up the valley; the infantry wildly on all sides. the fusillade continued furiously for some time, and when by the efforts of the british officers the troops were restrained, it was found that the dervishes had retired, leaving behind them a single wounded man. occasional shots were fired from the scrub until the morning, but no fresh attack was attempted by the dervishes. meanwhile captain fenwick maintained his solitary and perilous position on the hillock. he was soon surrounded by considerable bodies of the enemy, and as soon as it became dark he was sharply attacked. but the dervishes fortunately possessed few rifles, and the officers and troopers, by firing steady volleys, succeeded in holding their ground and repulsing them. the sound of the guns at teroi encouraged the egyptians and revealed the direction of their friends. with the daylight the dervishes, who seem throughout the affair to have been poor-spirited fellows, drew off, and the detachment, remounting, made haste to rejoin the main body. the force, again united, pursued their way to khor wintri, where they found the column from tokar already arrived. marching early on the th, major sidney with men of the xth soudanese, the only really trustworthy troops in the force, had reached khor wintri the same afternoon. he drove out the small dervish post occupying the khor, and was about to bivouac, when he was sharply attacked by a force of arabs said to have numbered horsemen and foot. the soudanese fought with their usual courage, and the dervishes were repulsed, leaving thirty dead upon the ground. the regulars had three men wounded. up to this point colonel lloyd's plan had been successfully carried out. the columns from suakin and tokar had effected a junction at khor wintri on the erkowit road. it now remained to await the attack of osman digna, and inflict a heavy blow upon him. it was decided, however, in view of what had occurred, to omit this part of the scheme, and both forces returned together without delay to suakin, which they reached on the th, having lost in the operations eighteen egyptian soldiers killed and three wounded. their arrival terminated a period of anxious doubt as to their fate. the town, which had been almost entirely denuded of troops, was left in charge of captain ford-hutchinson. at about two o'clock in the afternoon of the th a few stragglers from the egyptian cavalry with half-a-dozen riderless horses knocked at the gates, and vague but sinister rumours spread on all sides. the belief that a disaster had overtaken the egyptian force greatly excited the arabs living within the walls, and it appeared that they were about to rise, plunder the town, and massacre the christians. her majesty's ship scout was, however, by good fortune in the harbour. strong parties of bluejackets were landed to patrol the streets. the guns of the warship were laid on the arab quarter. these measures had a tranquillising effect, and order reigned in suakin until the return of the field force, when their victory was celebrated with appropriate festivities. it was announced that as a result of the successful operations the dervish enterprise against the tokai delta had collapsed, and that osman digna's power was for ever broken. in order, however, that no unfortunate incident should mar the triumph, the xth soudanese were sent back to tokar by sea via trinkitat, instead of marching direct and the garrison of suakin confined themselves henceforward strictly to their defences. osman digna remained in the neighbourhood and raided the friendly villages. on the arrival of the indian contingent he was supposed to be within twelve miles of the town, but thereafter he retired to adarama on the atbara river, where he remained during the dongola campaign. the fact that no further offensive operations were undertaken in the eastern soudan prevented all fighting, for the dervishes were, of course, unable to assail the strong permanent fortifications behind which the egyptians took shelter. they nevertheless remained in actual possession of the surrounding country, until the whole situation was altered by the successful advance of powerful forces behind them along the nile and by the occupation of berber. after the affair of khor wintri it was evident that it would not be possible to leave suakin to the defence only of the th battalion of reservists. on the other hand, sir h. kitchener required every soldier the egyptian army could muster to carry out the operations on the nile. it was therefore determined to send indian troops to suakin to garrison the town and forts, and thus release the xth soudanese and the egyptian battalions for the dongola expedition. accordingly early in the month of may the indian army authorities were ordered to prepare a brigade of all arms for service in egypt. the troops selected were as follow: th bengal infantry, th sikhs, st bombay lancers, th bombay mountain battery, two maxim guns, one section queen's own (madras) sappers and miners--in all about , men. the command was entrusted to colonel egerton, of the corps of guides. on the th of may the dreary town of suakin was enlivened by the arrival of the first detachments, and during the following week the whole force disembarked at the rotten piers and assumed the duties of the defence. it is mournful to tell how this gallant brigade, which landed so full of high hope and warlike enthusiasm, and which was certainly during the summer the most efficient force in the soudan, was reduced in seven months to the sullen band who returned to india wasted by disease, embittered by disappointment, and inflamed by feelings of resentment and envy. the indian contingent landed in the full expectation of being immediately employed against the enemy. after a week, when all the stores had been landed, officers and men spent their time speculating when the order to march would come. it was true that there was no transport in suakin, but that difficulty was easily overcome by rumours that , camels were on their way from the somali coast to enable the force to move on kassala or berber. as these did not arrive, general egerton sent in a proposed scheme to the sirdar, in which he undertook to hold all the advanced posts up to the kokreb range, if he were supplied with , camels for transport. a characteristic answer was returned, to the effect that it was not intended to use the indian contingent as a mobile force. they had come as a garrison for suakin, and a garrison for suakin they should remain. this information was not, however, communicated to the troops, who continued to hope for orders to advance until the fall of dongola. the heat when the contingent arrived was not great, but as the months wore on the temperature rose steadily, until in august and september the thermometer rarely fell below ° during the night, and often rose to ° by day. dust storms were frequent. a veritable plague of flies tormented the unhappy soldiers. the unhealthy climate, the depressing inactivity, and the scantiness of fresh meat or the use of condensed water, provoked an outbreak of scurvy. at one time nearly all the followers and per cent of the troops were affected. several large drafts were invalided to india. the symptoms were painful and disgusting--open wounds, loosening of the teeth, curious fungoid growths on the gums and legs. the cavalry horses and transport animals suffered from bursati, and even a pinprick expanded into a large open sore. it is doubtful whether the brigade could have been considered fit for active service after september. all the europeans suffered acutely from prickly heat. malarial fever was common. there were numerous cases of abscess on the liver. twenty-five per cent of the british officers were invalided to england or india, and only six escaped a stay in hospital. the experiences of the battalion holding tokar fort were even worse than those of the troops in suakin. at length the longed-for time of departure arrived. with feelings of relief and delight the indian contingent shook the dust of suakin off their feet and returned to india. it is a satisfaction to pass from the dismal narrative of events in the eastern soudan to the successful campaign on the nile. by the middle of april the concentration on the frontier was completed. the communications were cleared of their human freight, and occupied only by supplies and railway material, which continued to pour south at the utmost capacity of the transport. eleven thousand troops had been massed at and beyond wady halfa. but no serious operations could take place until a strong reserve of stores had been accumulated at the front. meanwhile the army waited, and the railway grew steadily. the battalions were distributed in three principal fortified camps--halfa, sarras, and akasha--and detachments held the chain of small posts which linked them together. including the north staffordshire regiment, the garrison of wady halfa numbered about , men. the town and cantonment, nowhere more than yards in width, straggle along the river-bank, squeezed in between the water and the desert, for nearly three miles. the houses, offices, and barracks are all built of mud, and the aspect of the place is brown and squalid. a few buildings, however, attain to the dignity of two storeys. at the northern end of the town a group of fairly well-built houses occupy the river-front, and a distant view of the clusters of palm-trees, of the white walls, and the minaret of the mosque refreshes the weary traveller from korosko or shellal with the hopes of civilised entertainment. the whole town is protected towards the deserts by a ditch and mud wall; and heavy krupp field-pieces are mounted on little bastions where the ends of the rampart rest upon the river. five small detached forts strengthen the land front, and the futility of an arab attack at this time was evident. halfa had now become the terminus of a railway, which was rapidly extending; and the continual arrival and despatch of tons of material, the building of sheds, workshops, and storehouses lent the african slum the bustle and activity of a civilised city. sarras fort is an extensive building, perched on a crag of black rock rising on the banks of the nile about thirty miles south of halfa. during the long years of preparation it had been egypt's most advanced outpost and the southern terminus of the military railway. the beginning of the expedition swelled it into an entrenched camp, holding nearly , men. from each end of the black rock on which the fort stood a strong stone wall and wire entanglement ran back to the river. the space thus enclosed was crowded with rows of tents and lines of animals and horses; and in the fort colonel hunter, commanding the district known as 'sarras and the south,' had his headquarters. from sarras the army seemed to have chosen a double line of advance. the railway reconstruction followed the old track which had been prepared through the desert in . the convoy route wound along by the river. both were protected from attack. the th egyptians guarded railhead, while the chain of small posts secured the road by the nile to akasha. the advanced base grew during the months of april and may into a strong position. only once did the arabs venture to approach within artillery range. a small body of horse and camel men made a sort of haphazard reconnaissance, and, being seen from the outpost line, were fired on at a great distance by a field-gun. they fell back immediately, but it was believed that the range was too great for the projectile to have harmed them; and it was not until two days later that the discovery on the spot of a swollen, blistering corpse, clad in bright jibba, apprised the delighted gunners of the effect of their fire. warned by this lucky shot the dervishes came no more, or came unseen. the sirdar, accompanied by colonel bundle, his chief of staff, had left cairo on the nd of march, and after a short stay at assuan reached wady halfa on the th. here he remained during the month of april, superintending and pressing the extension of the railroad and the accumulation of supplies. on the st of may he arrived at akasha, with a squadron of cavalry, under major burn-murdoch, as his escort. it happened that a convoy had come in the previous day, so that there were two extra cavalry squadrons at the advanced post. almost at the same moment that sir h. kitchener entered the camp, a party of friendly arabs came in with the news that they had been surprised some four miles to the eastward by a score of dervish camel-men, and had only succeeded in escaping with the loss of two of their number. in the belief that the enemy in the immediate vicinity were not in force, the sirdar ordered the three squadrons of egyptian cavalry, supported by the xith soudanese, to go out and reconnoitre towards firket and endeavour to cut off any hostile patrols that might be found. at ten o'clock major burn-murdoch started with four british officers and lances. after moving for seven or eight miles among the hills which surround akasha, the cavalry passed through a long, sandy defile, flanked on either side by rocky peaks and impracticable ravines. as the head of the column was about to debouch from this, the advanced scouts reported that there was a body of dervishes in the open ground in front of the defile. the cavalry commander rode forward to look at them, and found himself confronted, not, as he had expected, by a score of camel-men, but by a strong force of dervishes, numbering at least , foot and horse. the cavalry, by trotting, had left the supporting infantry some distance behind them. the appearance of the enemy was threatening. the horsemen, who were drawn up scarcely yards away, were already advancing to the attack, their right flank protected by a small force of camelry; and behind was the solid array of the spearmen. major burn-murdoch determined to fall back on his infantry support and escape from the bad ground. he gave the order, and the squadrons wheeled about by troops and began to retire. forthwith the dervish horse charged, and, galloping furiously into the defile, attacked the cavalry in rear. both sides were crowded in the narrow space. the wildest confusion followed, and the dust raised by the horses' hoofs hung over all like a yellow london fog, amid which the bewildered combatants discharged their pistols and thrust at random. the egyptian cavalry, thus highly tried, showed at first no disposition to turn to meet the attack. the tumult drowned all words of command. a disaster appeared imminent. but the british officers, who had naturally been at the head of the column during its advance, were now at the rear and nearest the enemy. collecting a score of troopers, they made such resistance with their swords and revolvers that they actually held the defile and beat back the dervish horse, who retired on their infantry, leaving a dozen dead upon the ground. two of the egyptian squadrons continued to retreat until clear of the defile, a distance of yards; but the third and rearmost was compelled by the british officers to face about, and, galloping with this force down the ravine, major burn-murdoch drove the arabs pell-mell out of it. the other two squadrons had now returned, and the whole force dismounted, and, taking up a position among the sandhills near the mouth of the defile, opened fire with their carbines. the repulse of their cavalry seemed to have disheartened the dervishes, for they made no attempt to attack the dismounted troopers, and contented themselves with maintaining a desultory fire, which was so ill-aimed that but little loss was caused. the heat of the weather was terrific, and both men and horses suffered acutely from thirst. the squadron which had escorted the sirdar had performed a long march before the reconnaissance and was exhausted. the cavalry, however, held their position among the sandhills and easily defeated a feeble attempt to turn their right. at a quarter past twelve the dervishes began to retire slowly and deliberately, and by one o'clock, when the xith soudanese arrived, eager and agog, the last arab had disappeared. the force then returned to camp, bearing many spears and leading six captured horses as trophies of victory. the intensity of the heat may be gauged by the fact that one of the soudanese soldiers--that is to say, an african negro--died of sunstroke. such was the affair of the st of may, and it is pleasing to relate that in this fierce fight the loss was not severe. one british officer, captain fitton, was slightly wounded. one native soldier was killed; one was mortally and eight severely wounded. during may the preparations for the advance on the dervish position at firket continued, and towards the end of the month it became evident that they were nearly complete. the steady accumulation of stores at akasha had turned that post into a convenient base from which the force might operate for a month without drawing supplies of any kind from the north. the railway, which had progressed at the rate of about half a mile a day, had reached and was working to ambigole wells, where a four-gun fort and entrenchment had been built. the distance over which convoys must plod was reduced by half, and the business of supply was doubly accelerated. by degrees the battalions and squadrons began to move forward towards akasha. sarras, deprived of its short-lived glory, became again the solitary fort on a crag. wady halfa was also deserted, and, except for the british battalion in garrison, could scarcely boast a soldier. both the egyptian battalions from suakin had arrived on the nile. the xth soudanese were on their way. the country beyond akasha had been thoroughly reconnoitred and mapped to within three miles of the dervish position. everything was ready. the actual concentration may be said to have begun on the st of june, when the sirdar started for the front from halfa, whither he had returned after the cavalry skirmish. construction work on the railway came to a full stop. the railway battalions, dropping their picks and shovels, shouldered their remington rifles and became the garrisons of the posts on the line of communications. on the nd of june the correspondents were permitted to proceed to akasha. on the rd the xth soudanese passed through ambigole and marched south. the horse battery from halfa followed. the egyptian battalions and squadrons which had been camped along the river at convenient spots from ambigole to akasha marched to a point opposite okma. between this place and the advanced post an extensive camp, stretching three miles along the nile bank, arose with magic swiftness. on the th the th egyptians moved from railhead, and with these the last battalion reached the front. nine thousand men, with ample supplies, were collected within striking distance of the enemy. all this time the dervishes at firket watched in senseless apathy the deliberate, machine-like preparations for their destruction. they should have had good information, for although the egyptian cavalry patrolled ceaselessly, and the outpost line was impassable to scouts, their spies, as camel-drivers, water-carriers, and the like, were in the camp. they may not, perhaps, have known the exact moment of the intended blow, for the utmost secrecy was observed. but though they must have realised that it was imminent, they did nothing. there was, indeed, no course open to them but retreat. once the army was concentrated with sufficient supplies at akasha, their position was utterly untenable. the emir-in-chief, hammuda, then had scarcely , men around his flag. their rifles and ammunition were bad; their supplies scanty. nor could the valour of fifty-seven notable emirs sustain the odds against them. there was still time to fall back on kosheh, or even on suarda--anywhere outside the sweep of their terrible enemy's sword. they would not budge. obstinate and fatuous to the last, they dallied and paltered on the fatal ground, until sudden, blinding, inevitable catastrophe fell upon them from all sides at once, and swept them out of existence as a military force. chapter vi: firket june , since the end of the dervish force in firket had been under the command of the emir hammuda, and it was through the indolence and neglect of this dissipated arab that the egyptian army had been able to make good its position at akasha without any fighting. week after week the convoys had straggled unmolested through the difficult country between sarras and the advanced base. no attack had been made upon the brigade at akasha. no enterprise was directed against its communications. this fatal inactivity did not pass unnoticed by wad bishara, the governor of dongola; but although he was nominally in supreme command of all the dervish forces in the province he had hardly any means of enforcing his authority. his rebukes and exhortations, however, gradually roused hammuda, and during may two or three minor raids were planned and executed, and the egyptian position at akasha was several times reconnoitred. bishara remained unsatisfied, and at length, despairing of infusing energy into hammuda, he ordered his subordinate osman azrak to supersede him. osman was a dervish of very different type. he was a fanatical and devoted believer in the mahdi and a loyal follower of the khalifa. for many years he had served on the northern frontier of the dervish empire, and his name was well known to the egyptian government as the contriver of the most daring and the most brutal raids. his cruelty to the wretched inhabitants of the border villages had excluded him from all hope of mercy should he ever fall into the hands of the enemy. his crafty skill, however, protected him, and among the emirs gathered at firket there was none whose death would have given greater satisfaction to the military authorities than the man who was now to replace hammuda. whether osman azrak had actually assumed command on the th of june is uncertain. it seems more likely that hammuda declined to admit his right, and that the matter still stood in dispute. but in any case osman was determined to justify his appointment by his activity, and about midday he started from the camp at firket, and, accompanied by a strong patrol of camel-men, set out to reconnoitre akasha. moving cautiously, he arrived unperceived within sight of the position at about three o'clock in the afternoon. the columns which were to storm firket at dawn were then actually parading. but the clouds of dust which the high wind drove across or whirled about the camp obscured the view, and the dervish could distinguish nothing unusual. he therefore made the customary pentagonal mark on the sand to ensure good luck, and so returned to firket to renew his dispute with hammuda, bearing the reassuring news that 'the turks lay quiet.' the force which the sirdar had concentrated for the capture of firket amounted to about nine thousand men, and was organised as follows:-- commander-in-chief: the sirdar the infantry division: colonel hunter commanding st brigade nd brigade rd brigade major lewis major macdonald major maxwell rd egyptians ixth soudanese nd egyptians th " xith " th " xth soudanese xiith " th " xiiith " mounted forces: major burn-murdoch egyptian cavalry.... squadrons camel corps. .... companies artillery horse artillery .... battery field artillery .... batteries maxim guns . .... battery two roads led from akasha to firket--one by the bank of the river, the other inland and along the projected railway line. the sirdar determined to avail himself of both. the force was therefore divided into two columns. the main column, under command of the sirdar, was to move by the river road, and consisted of the infantry division, the field artillery, and the maxim guns. the desert column, under command of major burn-murdoch, consisted of the mounted forces, the horse artillery, and one battalion of infantry (the xiith soudanese) drawn from macdonald's brigade and mounted upon camels: in all about two thousand men. very precise orders were given to the smaller column, and burn-murdoch was instructed to occupy the hills to the south-east of the centre of firket village by . a.m.; to dispose his force facing west, with the cavalry on the left, the camel corps in the centre, and the xiith soudanese on the right. the only point left to his discretion was the position to be occupied by the horse battery. he was especially warned not to come under the fire of the main infantry force. as soon as the enemy should be routed, the xiith soudanese were to return to the sirdar. the cavalry, camelry, and horse artillery were to pursue--the objective being, firstly, koyeka, and, secondly, suarda. the infantry column began to march out of akasha at . in the afternoon of the th, and trailed southwards along the track by the river in the following order: lewis's brigade, with the xth soudanese leading; two maxim guns and the artillery; macdonald's brigade; maxwell's brigade; and, lastly, the field hospitals and a half-battalion forming rearguard. the sirdar marched behind the artillery. the rear of the long column was clear of the camp by . , and about two hours later the mounted force started by the desert road. the river column made good progress till dark, but thereafter the advance was slow and tedious. the track led through broken rocky ground, and was so narrow that it nowhere allowed a larger front to be formed than of four men abreast. in some places the sharp rocks and crumbling heaps of stone almost stopped the gun-mules altogether, while the infantry tripped and stumbled painfully. the moon had not risen, and the darkness was intense. still the long procession of men, winding like a whiplash between the jagged hills, toiled onward through the night, with no sound except the tramping of feet and the rattle of accoutrements. at half-past ten the head of lewis's brigade debouched into a smooth sandy plain about a mile to the north of sarkamatto village. this was the spot--scarcely three miles from the enemy's position--where the sirdar had decided to halt and bivouac. the bank and foreshore of the river were convenient for watering; all bottles and skins were filled, and soldiers and animals drank. a little food was eaten, and then, battalion by battalion, as the force arrived at the halting-place, they lay down to rest. the tail of maxwell's brigade reached the bivouac about midnight, and the whole column was then concentrated. meanwhile the mounted force were also on their way. like the river column, they were disordered by the broken ground, and the xiith soudanese, who were unused to camel riding and mounted only on transport saddles, were soon wearied. after one o'clock many men, both in the camel corps and in the battalion, fell asleep on their camels, and the officers had great difficulty in keeping them awake. however, the force reached their point of concentration--about three miles to the south-east of firket--at a quarter to three. here the xiith soudanese dismounted from their camels and became again a fighting unit. leaving the extra camels under a guard, major burn-murdoch then advanced towards his appointed position on the hills overlooking firket. the sirdar moved on again with the infantry at . . the moon had risen over the rocks to the left of the line of march, but it was only a thin crescent and did not give much light. the very worst part of the whole track was encountered immediately the bivouac was left, and the column of nearly six thousand men had to trickle through one narrow place in single file. there were already signs of the approach of dawn; the dervish camp was near; the sirdar and his staff began to look anxious. he sent many messages to the leading battalions to hurry; and the soldiers, although now very weary, ran and scrambled through the difficult passage like sheep crowding through a gate. by four o'clock the leading brigade had cleared the obstacle, and the most critical moment seemed to have passed. suddenly, a mile to the southward, rose the sound of the beating of drums. everyone held his breath. the dervishes were prepared. perhaps they would attack the column before it could deploy. then the sound died away, and but for the clatter of the marching columns all was again silent. it was no alarm, but only the call to the morning prayer; and the dervishes, still ignorant that their enemies approached and that swift destruction was upon them, trooped from their huts to obey the pious summons. the great mass of firket mountain, still dark in the half-light, now rose up on the left of the line of march. between it and the river stretched a narrow strip of scrub-covered ground; and here, though obstructed by the long grass, bushes, palm-trees, and holes, the leading brigade was ordered to deploy. there was, however, as yet only room for the xth soudanese to form line, and the rd and th egyptians contented themselves with widening to column of companies--the rd in rear of the right of the xth, the th in rear of the centre. the force now began to emerge from the narrow space between the hills and the river, and debouch into open country. as the space widened no. field battery came into line on the left, and no. on the right of the xth soudanese. a swell of ground hid firket village, though it was known to be within a mile, and it was now daylight. still there was no sign that the dervishes were prepared. it seemed scarcely possible to believe that the advance had not yet been discovered. the silence seemed to forbode some unexpected attack. the leading brigade and guns halted for a few minutes to allow macdonald to form his battalions from 'fours' into column of companies. then at five o'clock the advance was resumed, and at this moment from the shoulder of firket mountain there rang out a solitary shot. the dervish outposts had at last learned their danger. several other shots followed in quick succession, and were answered by a volley from the xth, and then from far away to the south-east came the report of a field-gun. the horse artillery battery had come into action. the operation of the two columns was simultaneous: the surpise of the enemy was complete. the great object was now to push on and deploy as fast as possible. the popping of musketry broke out from many points, and the repeated explosions of the horse battery added to the eager excitement of the troops. for what is more thrilling than the sudden and swift development of an attack at dawn? the xth soudanese had now reached the top of the rise which had hidden firket, and the whole scene came into view. to the right front the village of firket stretched by the side of the river--a confusion of mud houses nearly a mile in length and perhaps yards broad. on the landward side the tents and straw shelters of the dervish force showed white and yellow. a system of mud walls and loop-holed houses strengthened the northern end of the village. behind it as a background stood lines and clusters of palm-trees, through which the broad river and the masts of the arab boats might be seen. in front of the troops, but a little to their left, rose a low rocky ridge surmounted with flags and defended by a stone breastwork running along its base. across the open space between the village and the hill hundreds of dervishes on horse and on foot were hurrying to man their defences, and others scrambled up the rocks to see for themselves the numbers of the enemy. scores of little puffs of smoke already speckled the black rocks of the ridge and the brown houses of the village. the attack developed very rapidly. the narrow passage between the mountain and the river poured forth its brigades and battalions, and the firing-line stretched away to the right and left with extraordinary speed. the xth soudanese opened fire on the village as soon as they topped the rise. the rd and th egyptians deployed on the right and left of the leading regiment, two companies of the th extending down on to the foreshore below the steep river-bank. peake's battery (no. ) and the maxim guns, coming into action from a spur of firket mountain, began to fire over the heads of the advancing infantry. the whole of lewis's brigade now swung to the right and attacked the village; macdonald's, coming up at the double in line of battalion columns, deployed to the left, inland, round the shoulder of the mountain, and, bearing away still more to the left, advanced swiftly upon the rocky ridge. the ground in macdonald's front was much broken by boulders and scrub, and a deep khor delayed the advance. the enemy, though taken at obvious disadvantage, maintained an irregular fire; but the soudanese, greatly excited, pressed on eagerly towards the breastworks. when the brigade was still yards from the ridge, about fifty dervish horsemen dashed out from among the rocks and charged the left flank. all were immediately shot down by a wild but heavy independent fire. with joyful yells the blacks broke into a run and carried the breastworks at the bayonet. the dervishes did not await the shock. as soon as they saw their horsemen--among whom was the emir hammuda himself and yusef angar, emir of the jehadia--swept away, they abandoned the first ridge and fell back on another which lay behind. the soudanese followed closely, and pursued the outnumbered enemy up one and down the other side of the rocky hills, up again and down again, continually shouldering and bringing round the left of the brigade; until at last the hills were cleared of all except the dead, and the fugitives were running towards the river-bank. then the scattered battalions re-formed facing west, and the panting soldiers looked about them. while macdonald's brigade was storming the hills, lewis's had advanced on the village and the dervish camp. the arabs from their loopholed houses made a stubborn resistance, and the th battalion by the river-bank were sharply engaged, their commanding officer, captain sparkes, having his horse shot in four places. encouraged by their enormous superiority in number and weapons, the egyptians showed considerable zeal in the attack, and their conduct on this occasion was regarded as a very happy augury for the war, of which this was the first general engagement. as lewis's brigade had swung to its right, and macdonald's had borne away to the left, a wide gap had opened in the centre of the attack. this was immediately filled by maxwell's brigade, so that the whole force was now formed in one line, which curved and wheeled continually to the right until, by the time the rocky hills had been taken, all three brigades practically faced west and were advancing together towards the nile. the dervishes--penned between the river and the enemy, and unable to prevent the remorseless advance, which every moment restricted them to narrower limits--now thought only of flight, and they could be seen galloping hither and thither seeking for some means of escape. the position of the desert column would have enabled the xiith soudanese, by moving down to the river, to cut off this line of retreat; but the foreshore of the river at the southern end of firket is concealed from a landward view by the steep bank, and by this sandy path the greater number of the fugitives found safety. the cavalry and the camel corps, instead of cutting at the flank, contented themselves with making a direct pursuit after the enemy had crossed their front, and in consequence several hundred arabs made good their escape to the south. others swam the river and fled by the west bank. the wicked osman azrak, his authority now no longer disputed, for his rival was a corpse, galloped from the field and reached suarda. the rest of the dervish force held to the houses, and variously prepared to fight to the death or surrender to their conquerors. the three brigades now closed upon the village and, clearing it step by step, advanced to the water's edge. macdonald's brigade did not indeed stop until they had crossed the swampy isthmus and occupied the island. the arabs, many of whom refused quarter, resisted desperately, though without much effect, and more than eighty corpses were afterwards found in one group of buildings. by . o'clock all firing had ceased; the entire dervish camp was in the hands of the egyptian troops, and the engagement of firket was over. the sirdar now busied himself with the pursuit, and proceeded with the mounted troops as far as mograka, five miles south of firket. the whole cavalry force, with the camel corps and horse artillery, pressed the retreat vigorously to suarda. osman azrak, however, succeeded in transporting the women and children and some stores, with a sufficient escort, to the west bank before the arrival of the troops. on the approach of the cavalry he retired along the east bank, with a small mounted force, without fighting. the emir in charge of the escort on the other side delayed, and was in consequence shelled at long range by the horse battery. the local inhabitants, tired of the ceaseless war which had desolated the frontier province for so long, welcomed their new masters with an appearance of enthusiasm. the main pursuit stopped at suarda, but a week later two squadrons and sixteen men of the camel corps, under captain mahon, were pushed out twenty miles further south, and an arab store of grain was captured. the dervish loss in the action was severe. more than dead were left on the field, and there were besides wounded and prisoners. the casualties in the egyptian army were british officer--captain legge--wounded, native soldiers killed and wounded. firket is officially classed as a general action: special despatches were written, and a special clasp struck. the reader will have formed his own estimate of the magnitude and severity of the fight. the whole operation was well and carefully planned, and its success in execution was complete. the long and difficult night march, the accurate arrival and combination of the two columns, the swift deployment, the enveloping movement, proved alike the discipline and training of the troops and the skill of their officers. the only point on which criticism may be made is the failure of the desert column to intercept the flying dervishes. but it should be remembered they had marched far, and it was not at that time certain what the powers of the mounted troops were. the brilliant aspect of the affair caused great satisfaction in england, and the further prosecution of the campaign was looked for with increasing interest. chapter vii: the recovery of the dongola province countless and inestimable are the chances of war. those who read the story, and still more those who share the dangers, of a campaign feel that every incident is surrounded with a host of possibilities, any one of which, had it become real, would have changed the whole course of events. the influence of fortune is powerfully and continually exerted. in the flickering light of conflict the outlines of solid fact throw on every side the vague shadows of possibility. we live in a world of 'ifs.' 'what happened,' is singular; 'what might have happened,' legion. but to try to gauge the influence of this uncertain force were utterly futile, and it is perhaps wise, and indisputably convenient, to assume that the favourable and adverse chances equate, and then eliminate them both from the calculation. the 'sirdar's luck' became almost proverbial in the soudan. as the account progresses numerous instances will suggest themselves. it was lucky that the dervishes did not harass the communications, or assail akasha before it was fortified. it was lucky that they fought at firket; that they retired from berber; that mahmud did not advance in january; that he advanced in march; that he did not retire before the battle of the atbara; that the khalifa did not hold the shabluka; that he did not attack on the night before omdurman, and that he did attack at dawn. but after firket all things were contrary. one unexpected misfortune succeeded another. difficulties were replaced by others as soon as they had been overcome. the autumn of was marked by delay and disappointment. the state of the nile, the storms, the floods, the cholera, and many minor obstacles, vexed but did not weary the commander. the victory at firket was succeeded by a long pause in the operations. the army had made one spring forward; it must now gather energy for another. the preparations, however, proceeded rapidly. a strong camp was formed at firket. macdonald's brigade occupied suarda two days after the fight, and this place now became the advanced post, just as akasha had been in the first phase of the campaign. the accumuluation of stores at firket and suarda began forthwith. owing to the arrangements which had been made before the engagement it was possible to collect within one week of the action two months' supplies at suarda for the garrison of , men, and one month's at firket for the , troops encamped there. thereafter, however, the necessity of hurrying the railway construction and the considerable daily demands of , men only allowed this margin to be increased very gradually. the army had now passed beyond the scope of a camel, or other pack-animal, system of supply, except for very short distances, and it was obvious that they could only advance in future along either the railway or a navigable reach of the river, and preferably along both. from the dal cataract near kosheh there is a clear waterway at high nile to merawi. to kosheh, therefore, the railway must be extended before active operations could recommence. a third condition had also to be observed. for the expulsion of the dervishes from kerma and dongola it was desirable that a flotilla of gunboats should co-operate with the land forces. four of these vessels--the tamai, el teb, the metemma, and the abu klea; and three steamers--the kaibar, dal, and akasha, which it was proposed to arm--had, since , patrolled the river from assuan to wady halfa, and assisted in protecting the frontier from dervish raids. all seven were now collected at the foot of the second cataract, and awaited the rise of the river to attempt the passage. to strengthen the flotilla three new and very powerful gunboats had been ordered in england. these were to be brought in sections over the railway to a point above the second cataract, and be fitted together there. it was thus necessary to wait, firstly, for the railway to reach kosheh; secondly, for the nile to rise; thirdly, for the old gunboats to ascend the cataract; fourthly, for the new gunboats to be launched on the clear waterway; and, fifthly, for the accumulation of supplies. with all of these matters the sirdar now busied himself. the reconstruction of the railway to akasha and its extension beyond this place towards kosheh was pressed forward. by the th of june akasha was reached. thenceforward the engineers no longer followed an existing track, but were obliged to survey, and to make the formation for themselves. strong fatigue parties from the egyptian and soudanese battalions were, however, employed on the embankments, and the line grew daily longer. on the th of july the first train ran across the battlefield of firket; and on the th of august the railway was working to kosheh. kosheh is six miles south of firket, and consists, like most places in the 'military soudan,' of little more than a name and a few ruined mud-huts which were once a village. on the th of july the whole camp was moved thither from the scene of the action. the reasons were clear and apparent. kosheh is a point on the river above the dal cataract whence a clear waterway runs at high nile to beyond dongola. the camp at firket had become foul and insanitary. the bodies of the dead, swelling and decaying in their shallow graves, assailed, as if in revenge, the bodies of the living. the dysentery which had broken out was probably due to the 'green' water of the nile; for during the early period of the flood what is known as 'the false rise' washes the filth and sewage off the foreshore all along the river, and brings down the green and rotting vegetation from the spongy swamps of equatoria. the water is then dangerous and impure. there was nothing else for the army to drink; but it was undesirable to aggravate the evil by keeping the troops in a dirty camp. the earliest freight which the railway carried to kosheh was the first of the new stern-wheel gunboats. train after train arrived with its load of steel and iron, or with the cumbrous sections of the hull, and a warship in pieces--engines, armaments, fittings and stores--soon lay stacked by the side of the river. an improvised dockyard, equipped with powerful twenty-ton shears and other appliances, was established, and the work--complicated as a chinese puzzle--of fitting and riveting together the hundreds of various parts proceeded swiftly. gradually the strange heaps of parts began to evolve a mighty engine of war. the new gunboats were in every way remarkable. the old vessels had been feet long. these were feet. their breadth was feet. they steamed twelve miles an hour. they had a command of feet. their decks were all protected by steel plates, and prepared by loopholed shields for musketry. their armament was formidable. each carried one twelve-pounder quick-firing gun forward, two six-pounder quick-firing guns in the central battery, and four maxim guns. every modern improvement--such as ammunition hoists, telegraphs, search-lights, and steam-winches--was added. yet with all this they drew only thirty-nine inches of water. the contract specified that these vessels should be delivered at alexandria by the th of september, but, by exertions, the first boat, the zafir, reached egypt on the rd of july, having been made in eight weeks, and in time to have assisted in the advance on dongola. the vessels and machinery had been constructed and erected in the works in london; they were then marked, numbered, and taken to pieces, and after being shipped to alexandria and transported to the front were finally put together at kosheh. although in a journey of , miles they were seven times transhipped, not a single important piece was lost. the convenience of kosheh on the clear waterway, and the dirty condition of firket, were in themselves sufficient reasons for the change of camp; but another and graver cause lay behind. during the month of june an epidemic of cholera began to creep up the nile from cairo. on the th there were some cases at assuan. on the th it reached wady halfa. in consequence of this the north staffordshire regiment marched into camp at gemai. their three months' occupation of the town had not improved their health or their spirits. during the sixteen-mile march along the railway track to gemai the first fatal case occurred, and thereafter the sickness clung to the regiment until the middle of august, causing continual deaths. the cholera spread steadily southward up the river, claiming successive victims in each camp. in the second week of july it reached the new camp at kosheh, whence all possible precautions to exclude it had proved vain. the epidemic was at first of a virulent form. as is usual, when it had expended its destructive energy, the recoveries became more frequent. but of the first thousand cases between assuan and suarda nearly eight hundred proved fatal. nor were the lives thus lost to be altogether measured by the number. [the attacks and deaths from cholera in the dongola expeditionary force were as follow: british troops-- attacks, deaths; native troops-- attacks, deaths; followers-- attacks, deaths.] to all, the time was one of trial, almost of terror. the violence of the battle may be cheaply braved, but the insidious attacks of disease appal the boldest. death moved continually about the ranks of the army--not the death they had been trained to meet unflinchingly, the death in high enthusiasm and the pride of life, with all the world to weep or cheer; but a silent, unnoticed, almost ignominious summons, scarcely less sudden and far more painful than the bullet or the sword-cut. the egyptians, in spite of their fatalistic creed, manifested profound depression. the english soldiers were moody and ill-tempered. even the light-hearted soudanese lost their spirits; their merry grins were seen no longer; their laughter and their drums were stilled. only the british officers preserved a stony cheerfulness, and ceaselessly endeavoured by energy and example to sustain the courage of their men. yet they suffered most of all. their education had developed their imaginations; and imagination, elsewhere a priceless gift, is amid such circumstances a dangerous burden. it was, indeed, a time of sore trouble. to find the servant dead in the camp kitchen; to catch a hurried glimpse of blanketed shapes hustled quickly to the desert on a stretcher; to hold the lantern over the grave into which a friend or comrade--alive and well six hours before--was hastily lowered, even though it was still night; and through it all to work incessantly at pressure in the solid, roaring heat, with a mind ever on the watch for the earliest of the fatal symptoms and a thirst that could only be quenched by drinking of the deadly and contaminated nile: all these things combined to produce an experience which those who endured are unwilling to remember, but unlikely to forget. one by one some of the best of the field army and the communication staff were stricken down. gallant fenwick, of whom they used to say that he was 'twice a v.c. without a gazette'; polwhele, the railway subaltern, whose strange knowledge of the egyptian soldiers had won their stranger love; trask, an heroic doctor, indifferent alike to pestilence or bullets; mr. vallom, the chief superintendent of engines at halfa; farmer, a young officer already on his fourth campaign; mr. nicholson, the london engineer; long, quaint, kind-hearted 'roddy' owen--all filled graves in halfa cemetery or at the foot of firket mountain. at length the epidemic was stamped out, and by the middle of august it had practically ceased to be a serious danger. but the necessity of enforcing quarantine and other precautions had hampered movement up and down the line of communications, and so delayed the progress of the preparations for an advance. other unexpected hindrances arose. sir h. kitchener had clearly recognised that the railway, equipped as it then was, would be at the best a doubtful means for the continual supply of a large force many miles ahead of it. he therefore organised an auxiliary boat service and passed gyassas and nuggurs [native sailing craft] freely up the second cataract. during the summer months, in the soudan, a strong north wind prevails, which not only drives the sailing-boats up against the stream--sometimes at the rate of twenty miles a day--but also gratefully cools the air. this year, for forty consecutive days, at the critical period of the campaign, the wind blew hot and adverse from the south. the whole auxiliary boat service was thus practically arrested. but in spite of these aggravating obstacles the preparations for the advance were forced onwards, and it soon became necessary for the gunboats and steamers to be brought on to the upper reach of the river. the second cataract has a total descent of sixty feet, and is about nine miles long. for this distance the nile flows down a rugged stairway formed by successive ledges of black granite. the flood river deeply submerges these steps, and rushes along above them with tremendous force, but with a smooth though swirling surface. as the nile subsides, the steps begin to show, until the river tumbles violently from ledge to ledge, its whole surface for miles churned to the white foam of broken water, and thickly studded with black rocks. at the second cataract, moreover, the only deep channel of the nile is choked between narrow limits, and the stream struggles furiously between stern walls of rock. these dark gorges present many perils to the navigator. the most formidable, the bab-el-kebir, is only thirty-five feet wide. the river here takes a plunge of ten feet in seventy yards, and drops five feet at a single bound. an extensive pool above, formed by the junction of two arms of the river, increases the volume of the water and the force of the stream, so that the 'gate' constitutes an obstacle of difficulty and danger which might well have been considered insurmountable. it had been expected that in the beginning of july enough water would be passing down the second cataract to enable the gunboats and steamers waiting below to make the passage. everything depended upon the rise of the river, and in the perversity of circumstances the river this year rose much later and slower than usual. by the middle of august, however, the attempt appeared possible. on the th the first gunboat, the metemma, approached the cataract. the north staffordshire regiment from gemai, and the th and th egyptian battalions from kosheh, marched to the 'gate' to draw the vessel bodily up in spite of the current. the best native pilots had been procured. colonel hunter and the naval officers under commander colville directed the work. the boat had been carefully prepared for the ordeal. to reduce, by raising the free-board, the risk of swamping, the bows were heightened and strengthened, and stout wooden bulwarks were built running from bow to stern. guns and ammunition were then removed, and the vessel lightened by every possible means. a strop of wire rope was passed completely round the hull, and to this strong belt the five cables were fastened--two on each side and one at the bow. so steep was the slope of the water that it was found necessary to draw all the fires, and the steamer was thus dependent entirely upon external force. it was luckily possible to obtain a direct pull, for a crag of black rock rose above the surface of the pool opposite the 'gate.' on this a steel block was fixed, and the hawser was led away at right angles until it reached the east bank, where a smooth stretch of sand afforded a convenient place for the hauling parties. two thousand men were then set to pull at the cables, yet such was the extraordinary force of the current that, although the actual distance in which these great efforts were necessary was scarcely one hundred yards, the passage of each steamer occupied an hour and a half, and required the most strenuous exertions of the soldiers. no accident, however, occurred, and the six other vessels accomplished the ascent on successive days. in a week the whole flotilla steamed safely in the open water of the upper reach. and now for a moment it seemed that the luck of the expedition had returned. the cholera was practically extinct. the new gunboat zafir was nearly ready at kosheh, and her imposing appearance delighted and impressed the army. on the rd of august all the seven steamers which had passed the cataract arrived in a stately procession opposite the camp. almost at the same time the wind changed to the north, and a cool and delicious breeze refreshed the weary men and bore southward to suarda a whole fleet of sailing boats laden with supplies, which had been lying weather-bound during the previous six weeks at the head of the rapids. the preparatory orders for the advance tinkled along the telegraph. the north staffordshire regiment were, to the intense relief of officers and men, warned to hold themselves in readiness for an immediate move. the mounted troops had already returned to the front from the camps in which they had been distributed. at last the miserable delay was over. from kosheh to kerma, the first dervish position, the distance by river is miles. a study of the map shows that by land marches this can be shortened by nearly forty-one miles; thirty miles being saved by cutting across the great loop of the nile from kosheh to sadin fanti, and eleven miles by avoiding the angle from fereig to abu fatmeh. from kerma to dongola, which latter town was the objective of the expedition, a further distance of thirty-five miles must be traversed, making a total of miles by land or by river. the long desert march from kosheh to sadin fanti was the only natural difficulty by land. although the river from kosheh to kerma is broken by continual rapids, it is, with one interval, freely navigable at half nile. the amara cataract, ten miles beyond kosheh, is easily ascended by sailing boats with a fair wind, and by steamers without assistance. from amara to the kaibar cataract stretches a reach of sixty-five miles of open water. the kaibar cataract is, during the flood, scarcely any hindrance to navigation; but at hannek, about thirty miles further on, the three miles of islands, rocks, rapids, and broken water which are called the third cataract are, except at high nile, a formidable barrier, once this is passed, there is open water for more than miles at all seasons to merawi. the banks of the river, except near sadin fanti, where the hills close in, are flat and low. the eastern bank is lined with a fringe of palm-trees and a thin strip of cultivation, which constitutes what is called 'the fertile province of dongola.' on the other side the desert reaches the water's edge. along the right bank of this part of the river the army was now to move. the first act of the advance was the occupation of absarat, and on the rd of august macdonald's brigade marched thither from suarda, cutting across the desert to sadin fanti, and then following the bank of the nile. the occupation of absarat covered the next movement. on the th lewis's brigade was ordered to march across the loop from kosheh to sadin fanti, and reinforce the brigade at absarat. the distance of thirty-seven miles was far too great to be accomplished without a system of watering-places. this the sirdar rapidly organised. water-depots were formed by carrying tanks and water-skins on camels to two points in the desert, and replenishing them by daily convoys. but now a heavy calamity descended on the arrangements of the general and the hopes of the troops. during the afternoon of the th the wind veered suddenly to the south, and thereupon a terrific storm of sand and rain, accompanied by thunder and lightning, burst over the whole of the nubian desert, and swept along the line of communications from suarda to halfa. on the next day a second deluge delayed the march of lewis's brigade. but late on the th they started, with disastrous results. before they had reached the first watering-place a third tempest, preceded by its choking sandstorm, overtook them. nearly men fell out during the early part of the night, and crawled and staggered back to kosheh. before the column reached sadin fanti , more sank exhausted to the ground. out of one battalion strong, only sixty men marched in. nine deaths and eighty serious cases of prostration occurred, and the movement of the brigade from kosheh to absarat was grimly called 'the death march.' the 'death march' was the least of the misfortunes caused by the storms. the violent rains produced floods such as had not been seen in the soudan for fifty years. the water, pouring down the broad valleys, formed furious torrents in the narrower gorges. more than twelve miles of the railway was washed away. the rails were twisted and bent; the formation entirely destroyed. the telegraph wires were broken. the work of weeks was lost in a few hours. the advance was stopped as soon as it had been begun. at the moment when every military reason demanded speed and suddenness, a hideous delay became inevitable. in this time of crisis the success of the whole campaign hung in the balance. sir herbert kitchener did not then possess that measure of the confidence and affection of his officers which his military successes have since compelled. public opinion was still undecided on the general question of the war. the initial bad luck had frightened many. all the croakers were ready. 'a jingo government'--'an incapable general'--'another disaster in the soudan'--such were the whispers. a check would be the signal for an outcry. the accounts of 'the death march' had not yet reached england; but the correspondents, irritated at being 'chained to headquarters,' were going to see about that. and, besides all this, there were the army to feed and the dervishes to fight. in this serious emergency, which threatened to wreck his schemes, the sirdar's organising talents shone more brilliantly than at any other moment in this account. travelling swiftly to moghrat, he possessed himself of the telephone, which luckily still worked. he knew the exact position or every soldier, coolie, camel, or donkey at his disposal. in a few hours, in spite of his crippled transport, he concentrated , men on the damaged sections of the line, and thereafter fed them until the work was finished. in seven days traffic was resumed. the advance had been delayed, but it was not prevented. on the th of september the st (lewis) and nd (macdonald) brigades moved to dulgo, and at the same time the remainder of the army began to march across the loop from kosheh by sadin fanti to absarat. every available soldier had been collected for the final operation of the campaign. the expeditionary force was organised as follows: commander-in-chief: the sirdar the infantry division: colonel hunter commanding st brigade nd brigade rd brigade th brigade major lewis major macdonald major maxwell major david rd egyptians xith soudanese nd egyptians st egyptians th " xiith " th " th " ixth soudanese xiiith " th " th " xth " cavalry brigade and mounted forces: major burn-murdoch cavalry..... squadrons camel corps.... companies horse artillery... battery artillery: major parsons field artillery... batteries maxims . ... battery (british) divisional troops: major currie north staffordshire regiment.... st battalion the flotilla: commander colville gunboats... zafir, tamai, abu klea, metemma, el teb armed steamers... kaibar, dal, akasha total: , men, war-vessels, and guns thus thirteen of the sixteen battalions of the egyptian army were employed at the front. two others, the th and xivth, were disposed along the line of communication, holding the various fortified posts. the th battalion of reservists remained at suakin. the whole native army was engaged in the war, and the preservation of domestic order in the capital and throughout the khedive's dominions was left entirely to the police and to the british army of occupation. by the th all four brigades had reached the rendezvous at dulgo; on the th the british regiment, which it was determined to send up in the steamers, was moved to kosheh by rail from sarras and gemai. the sirdar prepared to start with the flotilla on the th. but a culminating disappointment remained. by tremendous exertions the zafir had been finished in time to take part in the operations. throughout the army it was expected that the zafir would be the feature of the campaign. at length the work was finished, and the zafir floated, powerful and majestic, on the waters of the nile. on the afternoon of the th of september many officers and men came to witness her trial trip. the bank was lined with spectators. colville took command. the sirdar and his staff embarked. flags were hoisted and amid general cheering the moorings were cast off. but the stern paddle had hardly revolved twice when there was a loud report, like that of a heavy gun, clouds of steam rushed up from the boilers, and the engines stopped. sir h. kitchener and commander colville were on the upper deck. the latter rushed below to learn what had happened, and found that she had burst her low-pressure cylinder, a misfortune impossible to repair until a new one could be obtained from halfa and fitted. in spite of this, however, the advance was not delayed. on the th the st, nd, and rd brigades occupied kaderma. here the flotilla overtook them, and henceforward the boats on the river kept pace with the army on the bank. fareig was reached on the th, and as the numerous palms by the water afforded a pleasant shade a halt of two days was ordered. on the th the th brigade arrived, and the concentration of the force was then complete. after the annihilation of his strong advanced post at firket, the dervish emir, wad bishara, concentrated his remaining forces in dongola. here during the summer he had awaited, and in the middle of august some small reinforcements under one emir of low rank reached him from omdurman. the khalifa, indeed, promised that many more should follow, but his promises long remained unfulfilled, and the greatest strength that bishara could muster was jehadia, baggara arabs, , spearmen, camelmen, cavalry--in all , men, with six small brass cannon and one mitrailleuse gun. to augment in numbers, if not in strength, this small force of regular soldiers, he impressed a large number of the local tribesmen; but as these were, for the most part, anxious to join the government troops at the first opportunity, their effect in the conflict was inconsiderable. the first sign that the forces were drawing closer was the cutting of the telegraph-wire by a dervish patrol on the th of september. on the th the sirdar heard that kerma was strongly held. on the th of september the egyptian cavalry first established contact with the dervish scouts, and a slight skirmish took place. on the th the whole force advanced to sardek, and as bishara still held his position at kerma it looked as if an action was imminent. it was resolved to attack the dervish position at kerma at dawn. although it seemed that only four miles separated the combatants, the night passed quietly. with the first light the army began to move, and when the sun rose the spectacle of the moving masses of men and artillery, with the gunboats on the right, was inspiring. the soldiers braced themselves for the expected action. but no sooner were the village and fort of kerma visible than the report passed along the ranks that they were deserted. rumour was soon merged in certainty, for on reaching kerma it was found that the dervishes had evacuated the place, and only the strong, well-built mud fort attested the recent presence of bishara. whither had he gone? the question was not left unanswered. half a mile to the southward, on the opposite bank of the river, among the groves of palm-trees ran a long and continuous line of shelter trenches and loopholed walls. the flanks of this new position rested on the deep morasses which extend from the river both on the north and south sides of hafir. a small steamer, a fleet of large gyassas and other sailing vessels moored to the further shore explained what had happened. conscious of his weakness, the prudent emir had adroitly transported himself across the river, and had thus placed that broad flood between his troops and their destruction. meanwhile the three gunboats--all that now remained of the armed flotilla, for the teb had run on a rock in the hannek cataract--were steaming gradually nearer the enemy, and the army swung to the right, and, forming along the river bank, became spectators of a scene of fascinating interest. at half-past six the horse battery unlimbered at the water's edge, and began to fire obliquely up and across the river. as soon as the first few shells had reached the arab entrenchment the whole line of shelter trenches was edged with smoke, and the dervishes replied with a heavy rifle fire. the distance was, however, too great for their bad rifles and inferior ammunition, and their bullets, although they occasionally struck the ground on which the infantry were drawn up, did not during the day cause any loss to the watching army. the dervish position was about half a mile in length. as the gunboats approached the northern end they opened fire with their guns, striking the mud entrenchments at every shot, and driving clouds of dust and splinters into the air. the maxim guns began to search the parapets, and two companies of the staffordshire regiment on board the unarmoured steamers dal and akasha fired long-range volleys. now, as on other occasions throughout the war, the dervishes by their military behaviour excited the admiration of their enemies. encouraged by the arrival in the morning of a reinforcement from omdurman of , black jehadia and spearmen under abdel baki, the dervish gunners stood to their guns and the riflemen to their trenches, and, although suffering severely, maintained a formidable fire. the gunboats continued to advance, beating up slowly against the strong current. as they came opposite hafir, where the channel narrows to about yards, they were received by a very heavy fire from guns placed in cleverly screened batteries, and from the riflemen sheltered in deep pits by the water's edge or concealed amid the foliage of the tops of the palm-trees. these aerial skirmishers commanded the decks of the vessels, and the shields of the guns were thus rendered of little protection. all the water round the gunboats was torn into foam by the projectiles. the bullets pattered against their sides, and, except where they were protected by steel plates, penetrated. one shell struck the abu klea on the water-line, and entered the magazine. luckily it did not explode, the dervishes having forgotten to set the fuse. three shells struck the metemma. on board the tamai, which was leading, commander colville was severely wounded in the wrist; armourer-sergeant richardson was killed at his maxim gun, and on each boat some casualties occurred. so hot was the fire that it was thought doubtful whether to proceed with the bombardment, and the tamai swung round, and hurried down the river with the current and at full steam to report to the sirdar. the other gunboats remained in action, and continued to shell the dervish defences. the tamai soon returned to the fight, and, steaming again up the river, was immediately hotly re-engaged. the sight which the army witnessed was thrilling. beyond the flood waters of the river, backed against a sky of staring blue and in the blazing sunlight, the whole of the enemy's position was plainly visible. the long row of shelter trenches was outlined by the white smoke of musketry and dotted with the bright-coloured flags waving defiantly in the wind and with the still brighter flashes of the guns. behind the entrenchments and among the mud houses and enclosures strong bodies of the jibba-clad arabs were arrayed. still further back in the plain a large force of cavalry--conspicuous by the gleams of light reflected from their broad-bladed spears--wheeled and manoeuvred. by the nile all the tops of the palm-trees were crowded with daring riflemen, whose positions were indicated by the smoke-puffs of their rifles, or when some tiny black figure fell, like a shot rook, to the ground. in the foreground the gunboats, panting and puffing up the river, were surrounded on all sides by spouts and spurts of water, thrown up by the shells and bullets. again the flotilla drew near the narrow channel; again the watching army held their breath; and again they saw the leading boat, the metemma, turn and run down stream towards safety, pursued by the wild cheers of the arabs. it was evident that the gunboats were not strong enough to silence the dervish fire. the want of the terrible zafir was acutely felt. the firing had lasted two hours and a half, and the enemy's resistance was no less vigorous than at the beginning of the action. the sirdar now altered his plans. he saw that his flotilla could not hope to silence the dervishes. he therefore ordered de rougemont--who had assumed the command after colville was wounded--to run past the entrenchments without trying to crush their fire, and steam on to dongola. to support and cover the movement, the three batteries of artillery under major parsons were brought into action from the swampy island of artagasha, which was connected at this season with the right bank by a shoal. at the same time three battalions of infantry were moved along the river until opposite the arab position. at a.m. the eighteen guns on the island opened a tremendous bombardment at , yards range on the entrenchments, and at the same time the infantry and a rocket detachment concentrated their fire on the tops of the palm-trees. the artillery now succeeded in silencing three of the five dervish guns and in sinking the little dervish steamer tahra, while the infantry by a tremendous long-range fire drove the riflemen out of the palms. profiting by this, the gunboats at ten o'clock moved up the river in line, and, disregarding the fusillade which the arabs still stubbornly maintained, passed by the entrenchment and steamed on towards dongola. after this the firing on both sides became intermittent, and the fight may be said to have ended. both forces remained during the day facing each other on opposite sides of the river, and the dervishes, who evidently did not admit a defeat, brandished their rifles and waved their flags, and their shouts of loud defiance floated across the water to the troops. but they had suffered very heavily. their brave and skilful leader was severely wounded by the splinters of a shell. the wicked osman azrak had been struck by a bullet, and more than ansar had fallen, including several emirs. moreover, a long train of wounded was seen to start during the afternoon for the south. it is doubtful, however, whether bishara would have retreated, if he had not feared being cut off. he seems to have believed that the sirdar would march along the right bank at once to dongola, and cross there under cover of his gunboats. like all moslem soldiers, he was nervous about his line of retreat. nor, considering the overwhelming force against him, can we wonder. there was, besides this strategic reason for retiring, a more concrete cause. all his supplies of grain were accumulated in the gyassas which lay moored to the west bank. these vessels were under the close and accurate fire of the artillery and maxim guns on artagasha island. several times during the night the hungry dervishes attempted to reach their store; but the moon was bright and the gunners watchful. each time the enemy exposed themselves, a vigorous fire was opened and they were driven back. when morning dawned, it was found that hafir was evacuated, and that the enemy had retreated on dongola. wad bishara's anxiety about his line of retreat was unnecessary, for the sirdar could not advance on dongola with a strong dervish force on his line of communications: and it was not desirable to divide the army and mask hafir with a covering force. but as soon as the dervishes had left their entrenchments the situation was simplified. at daybreak all the arab boats were brought over to the right bank by the villagers, who reported that bishara and his soldiers had abandoned the defence and were retreating to dongola. thereupon the sirdar, relieved of the necessity of forcing the passage, transported his army peacefully to the other bank. the operation afforded scope to his powers of organisation, and the whole force--complete with cavalry, camels, and guns--was moved across the broad, rushing river in less than thirty-six hours and without any apparent difficulty. the casualties on the th were not numerous, and in a force of nearly , men they appear insignificant. commander colville was wounded. one british sergeant and one egyptian officer were killed. eleven native soldiers were wounded. the total--fourteen--amounted to less than one per thousand of the troops engaged. nevertheless this picturesque and bloodless affair has been solemnly called the 'battle of hafir.' special despatches were written for it. it is officially counted in records of service as a 'general action.' telegrams of congratulation were received from her majesty and the khedive. a special clasp was struck. of all the instances of cheaply bought glory which the military history of recent years affords, hafir is the most remarkable. the th and part of the st were occupied by the passage of the army across the nile. the troops were still crossing when the gunboats returned from dongola. the distance of this place by water from hafir is about thirty-six miles, and the flotilla had arrived opposite the town during the afternoon of the th. a few shells expelled the small dervish garrison, and a large number of sailing vessels were captured. the results of the movement of the gunboats to dongola must, however, be looked for at hafir. in consequence of the sirdar's manoeuvre that place was evacuated and the unopposed passage of the river secured. bishara continued his retreat during the th, and, marching all day, reached dongola in the evening. wounded as he was, he re-occupied the town and began forthwith to make preparations for the defence of its considerable fortifications. the knowledge of his employment was not hidden from his enemy, and during the st the gunboat abu klea, under lieutenant beatty, r.n., arrived with the design of keeping him occupied. throughout the day a desultory duel was maintained between the entrenchments and the steamer. at daylight on the nd, beatty was reinforced by another gunboat, and an unceasing bombardment was made on the town and its defences. notwithstanding that the army did not finish crossing the river until the afternoon of the st, the sirdar determined to continue his advance without delay, and the force accordingly marched twelve miles further south and camped opposite the middle of the large island of argo. at daybreak the troops started again, and before the sun had attained its greatest power reached zowarat. this place was scarcely six miles from dongola, and, as it was expected that an action would be fought the next day, the rest of eighteen hours was welcomed by the weary soldiers. all day long the army remained halted by the palms of the nile bank. looking through their glasses up the river, the officers might watch the gunboats methodically bombarding dongola, and the sound of the guns was clearly heard. at intervals during the day odd parties of dervishes, both horse and foot, approached the outpost line and shots were exchanged. all these things, together with the consciousness that the culmination of the campaign was now at hand, raised the excitement of the army to a high pitch, and everyone lay down that night warmed by keen anticipations. an atmosphere of unrest hung over the bivouac, and few slept soundly. at three o'clock the troops were aroused, and at half-past four the final advance on dongola had begun. it was still night. the full moon, shining with tropical brilliancy in a cloudless sky, vaguely revealed the rolling plains of sand and the huge moving mass of the army. as long as it was dark the battalions were closely formed in quarter columns. but presently the warmer, yellower light of dawn began to grow across the river and through the palms, and gradually, as the sun rose and it became daylight, the dense formation of the army was extended to an array more than two miles long. on the left, nearest the river, marched lewis's brigade--three battalions in line and the fourth in column as a reserve. next in order maxwell's three battalions prolonged the line. the artillery were in the centre, supported by the north staffordshire regiment. the gunners of the maxim battery had donned their tunics, so that the lines and columns of yellow and brown were relieved by a vivid flash of british red. macdonald's brigade was on the right. david's brigade followed in rear of the centre as a reserve. the cavalry, the camel corps, and the horse artillery watched the right flank; and on the left the gunboats steamed along the river. for two hours the army were the only living things visible on the smooth sand, but at seven o'clock a large body of dervish horse appeared on the right flank. the further advance of half a mile discovered the arab forces. their numbers were less than those of the egyptians, but their white uniforms, conspicuous on the sand, and the rows of flags of many colours lent an imposing appearance to their array. their determined aspect, no less than the reputation of bishara, encouraged the belief that they were about to charge. the disparity of the forces was, however, too great; and as the egyptian army steadily advanced, the dervishes slowly retired. their retreat was cleverly covered by the baggara horse, who, by continually threatening the desert flank, delayed the progress of the troops. bishara did not attempt to re-enter the town, on which the gunboats were now concentrating their fire, but continued to retire in excellent order towards the south and debba. the egyptian infantry halted in dongola, which when they arrived they found already in the hands of detachments from the flotilla. the red flag with the crescent and star waved once again from the roof of the mudiria. the garrison of black jehadia had capitulated, and were already fraternising with their soudanese captors, whose comrades in arms they were soon to be. while the infantry occupied the town the cavalry and camel corps were despatched in pursuit. the baggara horse, however, maintained a firm attitude, and attempted several charges to cover the retreat of their infantry. in one of these an actual collision occurred, and captain adams's squadron of egyptian cavalry inflicted a loss of six killed on the enemy at a cost to themselves of eight men wounded. the cavalry and camel corps had about twenty casualties in the pursuit. but although the dervishes thus withdrew in an orderly manner from the field, the demoralising influence of retreat soon impaired their discipline and order, and many small parties, becoming detached from the main body, were captured by the pursuers. the line of retreat was strewn with weapons and other effects, and so many babies were abandoned by their parents that an artillery waggon had to be employed to collect and carry them. wad bishara, osman azrak, and the baggara horse, however, made good their flight across the desert to metemma, and, in spite of terrible sufferings from thirst, retained sufficient discipline to detach a force to hold abu klea wells in case the retreat was followed. the dervish infantry made their way along the river to abu hamed, and were much harassed by the gunboats until they reached the fourth cataract, when the pursuit was brought to an end. the egyptian losses in the capture of dongola and in the subsequent pursuit were: british, nil. native ranks: killed, ; wounded, . total, . the occupation of dongola terminated the campaign of . about prisoners, mostly the black jehadia, all the six brass cannon, large stores of grain, and a great quantity of flags, spears, and swords fell to the victors, and the whole of the province, said to be the most fertile in the soudan, was restored to the egyptian authority. the existence of a perpetual clear waterway from the head of the third cataract to merawi enabled the gunboats at once to steam up the river for more than miles, and in the course of the following month the greater part of the army was established in merawi below the fourth cataract, at debba, or at korti, drawing supplies along the railway, and from railhead by a boat service on the long reach of open water. the position of a strong force at merawi--only miles along the river bank from abu hamed, the northern dervish post--was, as will be seen, convenient to the continuance of the campaign whenever the time should arrive. but a long delay in the advance was now inevitable, and nearly a year was destined to pass without any collision between the forces of the khedive and those of the khalifa. the success of the operations caused great public satisfaction in england. the first step had been taken. the soudan was re-entered. after ten years of defensive war the dervishes had been attacked, and it was clear that when they were attacked with adequate forces they were not so very terrible after all. the croakers were silent. a general desire was manifested in the country that the operations should continue, and although the government did not yet abandon their tentative policy, or resolve utterly to destroy the khalifa's power, it was decided that, as the road had so far been safe and pleasant, there was at present no need to stop or turn back. a generous gazette of honours was published. with a single exception, which it would be invidious to specify, all the officers of the egyptian army were mentioned in despatches. sir h. kitchener, colonel hunter, and colonel rundle were promoted major-generals for distinguished service in the field; a special medal--on whose ribbon the blue nile is shown flowing through the yellow desert--was struck; and both the engagement at firket and the affair at hafir were commemorated by clasps. the casualties during the campaign, including the fighting round suakin, were killed and wounded; officers and men died from cholera; and there were deaths from other causes. a large number of british officers were also invalided. chapter viii: the desert railway it often happens that in prosperous public enterprises the applause of the nation and the rewards of the sovereign are bestowed on those whose offices are splendid and whose duties have been dramatic. others whose labours were no less difficult, responsible, and vital to success are unnoticed. if this be true of men, it is also true of things. in a tale of war the reader's mind is filled with the fighting. the battle--with its vivid scenes, its moving incidents, its plain and tremendous results--excites imagination and commands attention. the eye is fixed on the fighting brigades as they move amid the smoke; on the swarming figures of the enemy; on the general, serene and determined, mounted in the middle of his staff. the long trailing line of communications is unnoticed. the fierce glory that plays on red, triumphant bayonets dazzles the observer; nor does he care to look behind to where, along a thousand miles of rail, road, and river, the convoys are crawling to the front in uninterrupted succession. victory is the beautiful, bright-coloured flower. transport is the stem without which it could never have blossomed. yet even the military student, in his zeal to master the fascinating combinations of the actual conflict, often forgets the far more intricate complications of supply. it cannot be denied that a battle, the climax to which all military operations tend, is an event which is not controlled by strategy or organisation. the scheme may be well planned, the troops well fed, the ammunition plentiful, and the enemy entangled, famished, or numerically inferior. the glorious uncertainties of the field can yet reverse everything. the human element--in defiance of experience and probability--may produce a wholly irrational result, and a starving, out-manoeuvred army win food, safety, and honour by their bravery. but such considerations apply with greater force to wars where both sides are equal in equipment and discipline. in savage warfare in a flat country the power of modern machinery is such that flesh and blood can scarcely prevail, and the chances of battle are reduced to a minimum. fighting the dervishes was primarily a matter of transport. the khalifa was conquered on the railway. hitherto, as the operations have progressed, it has been convenient to speak of the railway in a general manner as having been laid or extended to various points, and merely to indicate the direction of the lines of communication. the reader is now invited to take a closer view. this chapter is concerned with boats, railways, and pack animals, but particularly with railways. throughout the dongola campaign in the nile was the main channel of communication between the expeditionary force and its base in egypt. all supplies were brought to the front as far as possible by water transport. wherever the nile was navigable, it was used. other means of conveyance--by railways and pack animals--though essential, were merely supplementary. boats carry more and cost less than any other form of transport. the service is not so liable to interruption; the plant needs only simple repair; the waterway is ready-made. but the nile is not always available. frequent cataracts obstruct its course for many miles. other long reaches are only navigable when the river is in flood. to join the navigable reaches, and thus preserve the continuity of the communications, a complex system of railways and caravans was necessary. in the expedition to dongola a line of railway was required to connect the two navigable reaches of the nile which extend from assuan to wady halfa, and from kerma to merawi. before the capture of dongola, however, this distance was shortened by the fact that the river at high nile is navigable between the third cataract and kerma. in consequence it was at first only necessary to construct the stretch of miles between wady halfa and kosheh. during the years when wady halfa was the southernmost garrison of the egyptian forces a strong post had been maintained at sarras. in the nile expeditions of the railway from halfa had been completed through sarras and as far as akasha, a distance of eighty-six miles. after the abandonment of the soudan the dervishes destroyed the line as far north as sarras. the old embankments were still standing, but the sleepers had been burnt and the rails torn up, and in many cases bent or twisted. the position in may, in fact, be summed up as follows: the section of thirty-three miles from wady halfa to sarras was immediately available and in working order. the section of fifty-three miles from sarras to akasha required partial reconstruction. the section of thirty-two miles from akasha to kosheh must, with the exception of ten miles of embankment completed in , at once be newly made. and, finally, the section from kosheh to kerma must be completed before the nile flood subsided. the first duty, therefore, which the engineer officers had to perform was the reconstruction of the line from sarras to akasha. no trained staff or skilled workmen were available. the lack of men with technical knowledge was doubtfully supplied by the enlistment of a 'railway battalion' strong. these men were drawn from many tribes and classes. their only qualification was capacity and willingness for work. they presented a motley appearance. dervish prisoners, released but still wearing their jibbas, assisted stalwart egyptians in unloading rails and sleepers. dinkas, shillooks, jaalin, and barabras shovelled contentedly together at the embankments. one hundred civilian soudanese--chiefly time-expired soldiers--were also employed; and these, since they were trustworthy and took an especial pride in their work, soon learned the arts of spiking rails and sleepers, fishing rails together, and straightening. to direct and control the labours of these men of varied race and language, but of equal inexperience, some civilian foremen platelayers were obtained at high rates of pay from lower egypt. these, however, with very few exceptions were not satisfactory, and they were gradually replaced by intelligent men of the 'railway battalion,' who had learned their trade as the line progressed. the projection, direction, and execution of the whole work were entrusted to a few subalterns of engineers, of whom the best-known was edouard girouard. work was begun south of sarras at the latter end of march. at first the efforts of so many unskilled workmen, instructed by few experienced officers, were productive of results ridiculous rather than important. gradually, however, the knowledge and energy of the young director and the intelligence and devotion of his still more youthful subordinates began to take effect. the pace of construction increased, and the labour was lightened by the contrivances of experience and skill. as the line grew longer, native officers and non-commissioned officers from the active and reserve lists of the egyptian army were appointed station-masters. intelligent non-commissioned officers and men were converted into shunters, guards, and pointsmen. traffic was controlled by telephone. to work the telephone, men were discovered who could read and write--very often who could read and write only their own names, and even that with such difficulty that they usually preferred a seal. they developed into clerks by a simple process of selection. to improve their education, and to train a staff in the office work of a railway, two schools were instituted at halfa. in these establishments, which were formed by the shade of two palm-trees, twenty pupils received the beginnings of knowledge. the simplicity of the instruction was aided by the zeal of the students, and learning grew beneath the palm-trees more quickly perhaps than in the magnificent schools of civilisation. the rolling stock of the halfa-sarras line was in good order and sufficient quantity, but the eight locomotives were out of all repair, and had to be patched up again and again with painful repetition. the regularity of their break-downs prevented the regularity of the road, and the soudan military railway gained a doubtful reputation during the dongola expedition and in its early days. nor were there wanting those who employed their wits in scoffing at the undertaking and in pouring thoughtless indignation on the engineers. nevertheless the work went on continually. the initial difficulties of the task were aggravated by an unexpected calamity. on the th of august the violent cyclonic rain-storm of which some account has been given in the last chapter broke over the dongola province. a writer on the earlier phases of the war [a. hilliard atteridge, towards freedom.] has forcibly explained why the consequences were so serious: 'in a country where rain is an ordinary event the engineer lays his railway line, not in the bottom of a valley, but at a higher level on one slope or the other. where he passes across branching side valleys, he takes care to leave in all his embankments large culverts to carry off flood-water. but here, in what was thought to be the rainless soudan, the line south of sarras followed for mile after mile the bottom of the long valley of khor ahrusa, and no provision had been made, or had been thought necessary, for culverts in the embankments where minor hollows were crossed. thus, when the flood came, it was not merely that the railway was cut through here and there by the rushing deluge. it was covered deep in water, the ballast was swept away, and some of the banks so destroyed that in places rails and sleepers were left hanging in the air across a wide gap.' nearly fourteen miles of track were destroyed. the camp of the construction gangs was wrecked and flooded. some of the rifles of the escort--for the conditions of war were never absent--were afterwards recovered from a depth of three feet of sand. in one place, where the embankment had partly withstood the deluge, a great lake several miles square appeared. by extraordinary exertions the damage was repaired in a week. as soon as the line as far as kosheh was completed, the advance towards dongola began. after the army had been victorious at hafir the whole province was cleared of dervishes, and the egyptian forces pushed on to merawi. here they were dependent on river transport. but the nile was falling rapidly, and the army were soon in danger of being stranded by the interruption of river traffic between the third cataract and kenna. the extension of the line from kosheh to kerma was therefore of vital importance. the survey was at once undertaken, and a suitable route was chosen through the newly acquired and unmapped territory. of the ninety-five miles of extended track, fifty-six were through the desert, and the constructors here gained the experience which was afterwards of value on the great desert railway from wady halfa to the atbara. battalions of troops were distributed along the line and ordered to begin to make the embankments. track-laying commenced south of kosheh on the th of october, and the whole work was carried forward with feverish energy. as it progressed, and before it was completed, the reach of the river from the third cataract to kenna ceased to be navigable. the army were now dependent for their existence on the partly finished railway, from the head of which supplies were conveyed by an elaborate system of camel transport. every week the line grew, railhead moved forward, and the strain upon the pack animals diminished. but the problem of feeding the field army without interfering with the railway construction was one of extraordinary intricacy and difficulty. the carrying capacity of the line was strictly limited. the worn-out engines frequently broke down. on many occasions only three were in working order, and the other five undergoing 'heavy repairs' which might secure them another short span of usefulness. three times the construction had to be suspended to allow the army to be revictualled. every difficulty was, however, overcome. by the beginning of may the line to kenna was finished, and the whole of the railway battalion, its subalterns and its director, turned their attention to a greater enterprise. in the first week in december the sirdar returned from england with instructions or permission to continue the advance towards khartoum, and the momentous question of the route to be followed arose. it may at first seem that the plain course was to continue to work along the nile, connecting its navigable reaches by sections of railway. but from merawi to abu hamed the river is broken by continual cataracts, and the broken ground of both banks made a railway nearly an impossibility. the movements of the french expeditions towards the upper nile counselled speed. the poverty of egypt compelled economy. the nile route, though sure, would be slow and very expensive. a short cut must be found. three daring and ambitious schemes presented themselves: ( ) the line followed by the desert column in from korti to metemma; ( ) the celebrated, if not notorious, route from suakin to berber; ( ) across the nubian desert from korosko or wady halfa to abu hamed. the question involved the whole strategy of the war. no more important decision was ever taken by sir herbert kitchener, whether in office or in action. the request for a british division, the attack on mahmud's zeriba, the great left wheel towards omdurman during that battle, the treatment of the marchand expedition, were matters of lesser resolve than the selection of the line of advance. the known strength of the khalifa made it evident that a powerful force would be required for the destruction of his army and the capture of his capital. the use of railway transport to some point on the nile whence there was a clear waterway was therefore imperative. berber and metemma were known, and abu hamed was believed, to fulfil this condition. but both berber and metemma were important strategic points. it was improbable that the dervishes would abandon these keys to khartoum and the soudan without severe resistance. it seemed likely, indeed, that the khalifa would strongly reinforce both towns, and desperately contest their possession. the deserts between korti and metemma, and between suakin and berber, contained scattered wells, and small raiding parties might have cut the railway and perhaps have starved the army at its head. it was therefore too dangerous to project the railway towards either berber or metemma until they were actually in our hands. the argument is circular. the towns could not be taken without a strong force; so strong a force could not advance until the railway was made; and the railway could not be made till the towns were taken. both the korti-metemma and the suakin-berber routes were therefore rejected. the resolution to exclude the latter was further strengthened by the fact that the labour of building a railway over the hills behind suakin would have been very great. the route via abu hamed was selected by the exclusion of the alternatives. but it had distinct and apparent advantages. abu hamed was within striking distance of the army at merawi. it was not a point essential to the dervish defences, and not, therefore, likely to be so strongly garrisoned as berber or metemma. it might, therefore, be captured by a column marching along the river, and sufficiently small to be equipped with only camel transport. the deserts through which the railway to abu hamed would pass contain few wells, and therefore it would be difficult for small raiding parties to cut the line or attack the construction gangs; and before the line got within reach of the dervish garrison at abu hamed, that garrison would be dislodged and the place seized. the plan was perfect, and the argument in its favour conclusive. it turned, however, on one point: was the desert railway a possibility? with this question the general was now confronted. he appealed to expert opinion. eminent railway engineers in england were consulted. they replied with unanimity that, having due regard to the circumstances, and remembering the conditions of war under which the work must be executed, it was impossible to construct such a line. distinguished soldiers were approached on the subject. they replied that the scheme was not only impossible, but absurd. many other persons who were not consulted volunteered the opinion that the whole idea was that of a lunatic, and predicted ruin and disaster to the expedition. having received this advice, and reflected on it duly, the sirdar ordered the railway to be constructed without more delay. a further question immediately arose: should the railway to abu hamed start from korosko or from wady halfa? there were arguments on both sides. the adoption of the korosko line would reduce the river stage from assuan by forty-eight hours up stream. the old caravan route, by which general gordon had travelled to khartoum on his last journey, had been from korosko via murat wells to abu hamed. on the other hand, many workshops and appliances for construction were already existing at wady halfa. it was the northern terminus of the dongola railway. this was an enormous advantage. both routes were reconnoitred: that from wady halfa was selected. the decision having been taken, the enterprise was at once begun. lieutenant girouard, to whom everything was entrusted, was told to make the necessary estimates. sitting in his hut at wady halfa, he drew up a comprehensive list. nothing was forgotten. every want was provided for; every difficulty was foreseen; every requisite was noted. the questions to be decided were numerous and involved. how much carrying capacity was required? how much rolling stock? how many engines? what spare parts? how much oil? how many lathes? how many cutters? how many punching and shearing machines? what arrangements of signals would be necessary? how many lamps? how many points? how many trolleys? what amount of coal should be ordered? how much water would be wanted? how should it be carried? to what extent would its carriage affect the hauling power and influence all previous calculations? how much railway plant was needed? how many miles of rail? how many thousand sleepers? where could they be procured at such short notice? how many fishplates were necessary? what tools would be required? what appliances? what machinery? how much skilled labour was wanted? how much of the class of labour available? how were the workmen to be fed and watered? how much food would they want? how many trains a day must be run to feed them and their escort? how many must be run to carry plant? how did these requirements affect the estimate for rolling stock? the answers to all these questions, and to many others with which i will not inflict the reader, were set forth by lieutenant girouard in a ponderous volume several inches thick; and such was the comprehensive accuracy of the estimate that the working parties were never delayed by the want even of a piece of brass wire. in any circumstances the task would have been enormous. it was, however, complicated by five important considerations: it had to be executed with military precautions. there was apparently no water along the line. the feeding of , platelayers in a barren desert was a problem in itself. the work had to be completed before the winter. and, finally, the money voted was not to be outrun. the sirdar attended to the last condition. girouard was sent to england to buy the plant and rolling stock. fifteen new engines and two hundred trucks were ordered. the necessary new workshops were commenced at halfa. experienced mechanics were procured to direct them. fifteen hundred additional men were enlisted in the railway battalion and trained. then the water question was dealt with. the reconnoitring surveys had reported that though the line was certainly 'good and easy' for miles--and, according to arab accounts, for the remaining miles--no drop of water was to be found, and only two likely spots for wells were noted. camel transport was, of course, out of the question. each engine must first of all haul enough water to carry it to railhead and back, besides a reserve against accidents. it was evident that the quantity of water required by any locomotive would continually increase as the work progressed and the distance grew greater, until finally the material trains would have one-third of their carrying power absorbed in transporting the water for their own consumption. the amount of water necessary is largely dependent on the grades of the line. the 'flat desert' proved to be a steady slope up to a height of , feet above halfa, and the calculations were further complicated. the difficulty had, however, to be faced, and a hundred , -gallon tanks were procured. these were mounted on trucks and connected by hose; and the most striking characteristic of the trains of the soudan military railway was the long succession of enormous boxes on wheels, on which the motive power of the engine and the lives of the passengers depended. the first spadeful of sand of the desert railway was turned on the first day of ; but until may, when the line to kerma was finished, no great efforts were made, and only forty miles of track had been laid. in the meanwhile the men of the new railway battalion were being trained; the plant was steadily accumulating; engines, rolling stock, and material of all sorts had arrived from england. from the growing workshops at wady halfa the continual clatter and clang of hammers and the black smoke of manufacture rose to the african sky. the malodorous incense of civilisation was offered to the startled gods of egypt. all this was preparation; nor was it until the th of may that track-laying into the desert was begun in earnest. the whole of the construction gangs and railroad staff were brought from kerma to wady halfa, and the daring pioneers of modern war started on their long march through the wilderness, dragging their railway behind them--safe and sure road which infantry, cavalry, guns, and gunboats might follow with speed and convenience. it is scarcely within the power of words to describe the savage desolation of the regions into which the line and its constructors plunged. a smooth ocean of bright-coloured sand spread far and wide to distant horizons. the tropical sun beat with senseless perseverance upon the level surface until it could scarcely be touched with a naked hand, and the filmy air glittered and shimmered as over a furnace. here and there huge masses of crumbling rock rose from the plain, like islands of cinders in a sea of fire. alone in this vast expanse stood railhead--a canvas town of , inhabitants, complete with station, stores, post-office, telegraph-office, and canteen, and only connected with the living world of men and ideas by two parallel iron streaks, three feet six inches apart, growing dim and narrower in a long perspective until they were twisted and blurred by the mirage and vanished in the indefinite distance. every morning in the remote nothingness there appeared a black speck growing larger and clearer, until with a whistle and a welcome clatter, amid the aching silence of ages, the 'material' train arrived, carrying its own water and , yards of rails, sleepers, and accessories. at noon came another speck, developing in a similar manner into a supply train, also carrying its own water, food and water for the half-battalion of the escort and the , artificers and platelayers, and the letters, newspapers, sausages, jam, whisky, soda-water, and cigarettes which enable the briton to conquer the world without discomfort. and presently the empty trains would depart, reversing the process of their arrival, and vanishing gradually along a line which appeared at last to turn up into the air and run at a tangent into an unreal world. the life of the strange and lonely town was characterised by a machine-like regularity, born perhaps of the iron road from which it derived its nourishment. daily at three o'clock in the morning the 'camp-engine' started with the 'bank parties.' with the dawn the 'material' train arrived, the platelaying gangs swarmed over it like clusters of flies, and were carried to the extreme limit of the track. every man knew his task, and knew, too, that he would return to camp when it was finished, and not before. forthwith they set busily to work without the necessity of an order. a hundred yards of material was unloaded. the sleepers were arranged in a long succession. the rails were spiked to every alternate sleeper, and then the great -ton engine moved cautiously forward along the unballasted track, like an elephant trying a doubtful bridge. the operation was repeated continually through the hours of the burning day. behind the train there followed other gangs of platelayers, who completed the spiking and ballasting process; and when the sun sank beneath the sands of the western horizon, and the engine pushed the empty trucks and the weary men home to the railhead camp, it came back over a finished and permanent line. there was a brief interval while the camp-fires twinkled in the waste, like the lights of a liner in mid-ocean, while the officers and men chatted over their evening meal, and then the darkness and silence of the desert was unbroken till morning brought the glare and toil of another long day. so, week in, week out, the work went on. every few days saw a further advance into the wilderness. the scene changed and remained unaltered--'another, yet the same.' as wady halfa became more remote and abu hamed grew near, an element of danger, the more appalling since it was peculiar, was added to the strange conditions under which the inhabitants of railhead lived. what if the dervishes should cut the line behind them? they had three days' reserve of water. after that, unless the obstruction were removed and traffic restored, all must wither and die in the sand, and only their bones and their cooking-pots would attest the folly of their undertaking. by the th of july a hundred and thirty miles of line had been finished, and it became too dangerous to advance further until abu hamed had been cleared of the dervish force. they were still a hundred miles away, but camels travel fast and far, and the resources of the enemy were uncertain. it appeared that progress would be checked, but on the th of august general hunter, marching from merawi along the river bank, attacked and took abu hamed--an operation which will be described hereafter. work was at once resumed with renewed energy. the pace of construction now became remarkable. as much as , yards of track was surveyed, embanked, and laid in a single day. on the st of november abu hamed was reached, and by the banks of the nile the men who had fought their way across the desert joined hands with those who had fought their way along the river. the strain and hardship had not, however, been without effect on the constructors. two of the engineer subalterns--polwhele and cator--out of the eight concerned in the laying of the dongola and the desert railways had died. their places were eagerly filled by others. the completion of the line was accelerated by nearly a month through the fortunate discovery of water. at the beginning of july a well was sunk in what was thought to be a likely place at 'no. station,' seventy-seven miles from halfa. after five weeks' work water was found in abundance at a depth of feet. a steam-pump was erected, and the well yielded a continual supply. in october a second well was sunk at 'no. station,' fifty-five miles further on, whence water was obtained in still greater quantity. these discoveries modified, though they did not solve, the water question. they substantially increased the carrying capacity of the line, and reduced the danger to which the construction gangs were exposed. the sinking of the wells, an enterprise at which the friendly arabs scoffed, was begun on the sirdar's personal initiative; but the chronicler must impartially observe that the success was won by luck as much as by calculation, for, since the first two wells were made, eight others of greater depth have been bored and in no case has water been obtained. as the railway had been made, the telegraph-wire had, of course, followed it. every consignment of rails and sleepers had been accompanied by its proportion of telegraph-poles, insulators, and wire. another subaltern of engineers, lieutenant manifold, who managed this part of the military operations against the arabs, had also laid a line from merawi to abu hamed, so that immediate correspondence was effected round the entire circle of rail and river. the labours of the railway battalion and its officers did not end with the completion of the line to abu hamed. the desert railway was made. it had now to be maintained, worked, and rapidly extended. the terminus at halfa had become a busy town. a mud village was transformed into a miniature crewe. the great workshops that had grown with the line were equipped with diverse and elaborate machines. plant of all kinds purchased in cairo or requisitioned from england, with odds and ends collected from ishmail's scrap heaps, filled the depots with an extraordinary variety of stores. foundries, lathes, dynamos, steam-hammers, hydraulic presses, cupola furnaces, screw-cutting machines, and drills had been set up and were in continual work. they needed constant attention. every appliance for repairing each must be provided. to haul the tonnage necessary to supply the army and extend the line nearly forty engines were eventually required. purchased at different times and from different countries, they included ten distinct patterns; each pattern needed a special reserve of spare parts. the permutations and combinations of the stores were multiplied. some of the engines were old and already worn out. these broke down periodically. the frictional parts of all were affected by the desert sand, and needed ceaseless attention and repair. the workshops were busy night and day for seven days a week. to the complication of machinery was added the confusion of tongues. natives of various races were employed as operatives. foremen had been obtained from europe. no fewer than seven separate languages were spoken in the shops. wady halfa became a second babel. yet the undertaking prospered. the engineer officers displayed qualities of tact and temper: their director was cool and indefatigable. over all the sirdar exercised a regular control. usually ungracious, rarely impatient, never unreasonable, he moved among the workshops and about the line, satisfying himself that all was proceeding with economy and despatch. the sympathy of common labour won him the affection of the subalterns. nowhere in the soudan was he better known than on the railroad. nowhere was he so ardently believed in. it is now necessary to anticipate the course of events. as soon as the railway reached abu hamed, general hunter's force, which was holding that place, dropped its slender camel communications with merawi and drew its supplies along the new line direct from wady halfa. after the completion of the desert line there was still left seventeen miles of material for construction, and the railway was consequently at once extended to dakhesh, sixteen miles south of abu hamed. meanwhile berber was seized, and military considerations compelled the concentration of a larger force to maintain that town. the four battalions which had remained at merawi were floated down stream to kerma, and, there entraining, were carried by halfa and abu hamed to dakhesh--a journey of miles. when the railway had been begun across the desert, it was believed that the nile was always navigable above abu hamed. in former campaigns it had been reconnoitred and the waterway declared clear. but as the river fell it became evident that this was untrue. with the subsidence of the waters cataracts began to appear, and to avoid these it became necessary first of all to extend the railway to bashtinab, later on to abadia, and finally to the atbara. to do this more money had to be obtained, and the usual financial difficulties presented themselves. finally, however, the matter was settled, and the extension began at the rate of about a mile a day. the character of the country varies considerably between abu hamed and the atbara river. for the first sixty miles the line ran beside the nile, at the edge of the riparian belt. on the right was the cultivable though mostly uncultivated strip, long neglected and silted up with fine sand drifted into dunes, from which scattered, scraggy dom palms and prickly mimosa bushes grew. between the branches of these sombre trees the river gleamed, a cool and attractive flood. on the left was the desert, here broken by frequent rocks and dry watercourses. from bashtinab to abadia another desert section of fifty miles was necessary to avoid some very difficult ground by the nile bank. from abadia to the atbara the last stretch of the line runs across a broad alluvial expanse from whose surface plane-trees of mean appearance, but affording welcome shade, rise, watered by the autumn rains. the fact that the railway was approaching regions where rain is not an almost unknown phenomenon increased the labour of construction. to prevent the embankments from being washed away in the watercourses, ten bridges and sixty culverts had to be made; and this involved the transport over the railway of more than , tons of material in addition to the ordinary plant. by the arrival of the reinforcements at berber the fighting force at the front was doubled: doubled also was the business of supply. the task of providing the food of an army in a desert, a thousand miles from their base, and with no apparent means of subsistence at the end of the day's march, is less picturesque, though not less important, than the building of railways along which that nourishment is drawn to the front. supply and transport stand or fall together; history depends on both; and in order to explain the commissariat aspect of the river war, i must again both repeat and anticipate the account. the sirdar exercised a direct and personal supervision over the whole department of supply, but his action was restricted almost entirely to the distribution of the rations. their accumulation and regular supply were the task of colonel rogers, and this officer, by three years of exact calculation and unfailing allowance for the unforeseen, has well deserved his high reputation as a feeder of armies. the first military necessity of the war was, as has been described, to place the bulk of the egyptian army at akasha. in ordinary circumstances this would not have been a serious commissariat problem. the frontier reserves of food were calculated to meet such an emergency. but in the crops in egypt had been much below the average. at the beginning of there was a great scarcity of grain. when the order for the advance was issued, the frontier grain stores were nearly exhausted. the new crops could not be garnered until the end of april. thus while the world regarded egypt as a vast granary, her soldiers were obliged to purchase , tons of doura and , tons of barley from india and russia on which to begin the campaign. the chief item of a soldier's diet in most armies is bread. in several of our wars the health, and consequently the efficiency, of the troops has been impaired by bad bread or by the too frequent substitution of hard biscuit. for more than a year the army up the river ate tons of flour daily, and it is easy to imagine how bitter amid ordinary circumstances would have been the battle between the commissariat officers, whose duty it was to insist on proper quality, and the contractors--often, i fear, meriting the epithet 'rascally'--intent only upon profit. but in the well-managed egyptian service no such difficulties arose. the war department had in converted one of ismail pasha's gun factories near cairo into a victualling-yard. here were set up their own mills for grinding flour, machinery for manufacturing biscuit to the extent of , rations daily, and even for making soap. three great advantages sprang from this wise arrangement. firstly, the good quality of the supply was assured. complaints about bread and biscuit were practically unknown, and the soap--since the soldier, in contrast to the mixture of rubble and grease with which the contractors had formerly furnished him, could actually wash himself and his clothes with it--was greatly prized. secondly, all risk of contractors failing to deliver in time was avoided. lastly, the funds resulting from the economy had been utilised to form a useful corps of bakers. and thus, although the purchase of foreign grain added to the expense, the beginning of the war found the commissariat of the egyptian army in a thoroughly efficient state. vast reserves of stores were quickly accumulated at assuan. from these not an ounce of food was issued without the sirdar's direct sanction. at the subsidiary depot, formed at wady halfa, the same rule prevailed. the man who was responsible to no one took all the responsibility; and the system whereby a chief of the staff is subjected to the continual bombardment of heads of departments was happily avoided. sufficient supplies having been accumulated at akasha to allow of a forward movement, firket was fought. after firket the situation became difficult, and the problem of the supply officers was to keep the troops alive without delaying the progress of the railway with the carriage of their food. a small quantity of provisions was painfully dragged, with an average loss of per cent from theft and water damage, up the succession of cataracts which obstruct the river-way from halfa to kosheh. camel convoys from railhead carried the rest. but until the line reached kosheh the resources of the transport were terribly strained, and at one time it was even necessary to send the mounted troops north to avoid actual famine. the apparent inadequacy of the means to the end reached a climax when the army moved southward from dulgo. the marches and halts to dongola were estimated to take ten days, which was the utmost capacity of camel and steam transport, a few boat-loads of grain might be captured; a few handfuls of dates might be plucked; but scarcely any local supplies would be available. the sailing-boats, which were the only regular means of transport, were all delayed by the adverse winds. fortune returned at the critical moment. by good luck on the first day of the march the north wind began to blow, and twelve days' supplies, over and above those moved by camel and steamer, reached dongola with the troops. with this reserve in hand, the occupation of the province was completed, and although the army only existed from hand to mouth until the railway reached kerma, no further serious difficulty was experienced in supplying them. the account of the commissariat is now complete to the end of the dongola expedition; but it may conveniently be carried forward with the railway construction. in the abu hamed phase the supplies were so regulated that a convoy travelling from murat wells along the caravan route arrived the day after the fight; and thereafter communications were opened with merawi. the unexpected occupation of berber, following abu hamed, created the most difficult situation of the war. until the railway was forced on to berber a peculiarly inconvenient line of supply had to be used; and strings of camels, scattering never less than per cent of their loads, meandered through the rough and thorny country between merawi and abu hamed. this line was strengthened by other convoys from murat and the approaching railhead, and a system of boats and camel portages filtered the supplies to their destination. even when the railway had reached dakhesh the tension was only slightly relaxed. the necessity of supplying the large force at berber, miles from railhead, still required the maintenance of a huge and complicated system of boat and camel transport. of course, as the railway advanced, it absorbed stage after stage of river and portage, and the difficulties decreased. but the reader may gain some idea of their magnitude by following the progress of a box of biscuits from cairo to berber in the month of december . the route was as follows: from cairo to nagh hamadi ( miles) by rail; from nagh hamadi to assuan ( miles) by boat; from assuan to shellal ( miles) by rail; from shellal to halfa ( miles) by boat; from halfa to dakhesh (railhead)-- miles--by military railway; from dakhesh to shereik ( miles) by boat; from shereik by camel ( miles) round a cataract to bashtinab; from bashtinab by boat ( miles) to omsheyo; from omsheyo round another impracticable reach ( miles) by camel to geneinetti, and thence ( miles) to berber by boat. the road taken by this box of biscuits was followed by every ton of supplies required by , men in the field. the uninterrupted working of the long and varied chain was vital to the welfare of the army and the success of the war. it could only be maintained if every section was adequately supplied and none were either choked or starved. this problem had to be solved correctly every day by the transport officers, in spite of uncertain winds that retarded the boats, of camels that grew sick or died, and of engines that repeatedly broke down. in the face of every difficulty a regular supply was maintained. the construction of the railway was not delayed, nor the food of the troops reduced. the line continued to grow rapidly, and as it grew the difficulties of supply decreased. the weight was shifted from the backs of the camels and the bottoms of the sailing-boats to the trucks of the iron road. the strong hands of steam were directed to the prosecution of the war, and the swiftness of the train replaced the toilsome plodding of the caravan. the advance of the dervishes towards berber checked the progress of the railway. military precautions were imperative. construction was delayed by the passage of the st british brigade from cairo to the front, and by the consequently increased volume of daily supplies. by the th of march, however, the line was completed to bashtinab. on the th of may it had reached abadia. on the rd of july the whole railway from wady halfa to the atbara was finished, and the southern terminus was established in the great entrenched camp at the confluence of the rivers. the question of supply was then settled once and for all. in less than a week stores sufficient for three months were poured along the line, and the exhausting labours of the commissariat officers ended. their relief and achievement were merged in the greater triumph of the railway staff. the director and his subalterns had laboured long, and their efforts were crowned with complete success. on the day that the first troop train steamed into the fortified camp at the confluence of the nile and the atbara rivers the doom of the dervishes was sealed. it had now become possible with convenience and speed to send into the heart of the soudan great armies independent of the season of the year and of the resources of the country; to supply them not only with abundant food and ammunition, but with all the varied paraphernalia of scientific war; and to support their action on land by a powerful flotilla of gunboats, which could dominate the river and command the banks, and could at any moment make their way past khartoum even to sennar, fashoda, or sobat. though the battle was not yet fought, the victory was won. the khalifa, his capital, and his army were now within the sirdar's reach. it remained only to pluck the fruit in the most convenient hour, with the least trouble and at the smallest cost. chapter ix: abu hamed the last chapter carried the account of the war forward at express speed. the reader, who had already on the railway reached the atbara encampment and was prepared for the final advance on khartoum, must allow his mind to revert to a period when the egyptian forces are distributed along the river in garrisons at dongola, debba, korti, and merawi; when the reorganisation of the conquered province has been begun; and when the desert railway is still stretching steadily forward towards abu hamed. the news of the fall of dongola created a panic in omdurman. great numbers of arabs, believing that the khalifa's power was about to collapse, fled from the city. all business was at a standstill. for several days there were no executions. abdullah himself kept his house, and thus doubtfully concealed his vexation and alarm from his subjects. on the fifth day, however, having recovered his own confidence, he proceeded to the mosque, and after the morning prayer ascended his small wooden pulpit and addressed the assembled worshippers. after admitting the retreat of the dervishes under wad bishara, he enlarged on the losses the 'turks' had sustained and described their miserable condition. he deplored the fact that certain of the jehadia had surrendered, and reminded his listeners with a grim satisfaction of the horrible tortures which it was the practice of the english and egyptians to inflict upon their captives. he bewailed the lack of faith in god which had allowed even the meanest of the ansar to abandon the jehad against the infidel, and he condemned the lack of piety which disgraced the age. but he proclaimed his confidence in the loyalty of his subjects and his enjoyment of the favour of god and the counsels of the late mahdi; and having by his oratory raised the fanatical multitude to a high pitch of excitement, he thus concluded his long harangue: 'it is true that our chiefs have retired from dongola. yet they are not defeated. only they that disobeyed me have perished. i instructed the faithful to refrain from fighting and return to metemma. it was by my command that they have done what they have done. for the angel of the lord and the spirit of the mahdi have warned me in a vision that the souls of the accursed egyptians and of the miserable english shall leave their bodies between dongola and omdurman, at some spot which their bones shall whiten. thus shall the infidels be conquered.' then, drawing his sword, he cried with a loud voice: 'ed din mansur! the religion is victorious! islam shall triumph!' whereupon the worshippers, who to the number of , filled the great quadrangle--although they could not all hear his voice--saw his sword flashing in the sunlight, and with one accord imitated him, waving their swords and spears, and raising a mighty shout of fury and defiance. when the tumult had subsided, the khalifa announced that those who did not wish to remain faithful might go where they liked, but that he for his part would remain, knowing that god would vindicate the faith. public confidence was thus restored. in order that the divine favour might be assisted by human effort, abdullah adopted every measure or precaution that energy or prudence could suggest. at first he seems to have apprehended that the sirdar's army would advance at once upon omdurman, following the route of the desert column in from korti to metemma. he therefore ordered osman azrak--in spite of his severe wound--to hold abu klea wells with the survivors of his flag. bishara, who had rallied and reorganised the remains of the dongola army, was instructed to occupy metemma, the headquarters of the jaalin. messengers were despatched to the most distant garrisons to arrange for a general concentration upon omdurman. the emir ibrahim khalil was recalled from the ghezira, or the land between the blue and white niles, and with his force of about , jehadia and baggara soon reached the city. another chief, ahmed fedil, who was actually on his way to gedaref, was ordered to return to the capital. thither also osman digna repaired from adarama. but it appears that the khalifa only required the advice of that wily councillor, for he did not reduce the number of dervishes in the small forts along the line of the atbara--ed darner, adarama, asubri, el fasher--and after a short visit and a long consultation osman digna returned to his post at adarama. last of all, but not least in importance, mahmud, who commanded the 'army of the west,' was ordered to leave very reduced garrisons in kordofan and darfur, and march with his whole remaining force, which may have numbered , fighting men, to the nile, and so to omdurman. mahmud, who was as daring and ambitious as he was conceited and incapable, received the summons with delight, and began forthwith to collect his troops. the khalifa saw very clearly that he could not trust the riverain tribes. the jaalin and barabra were discontented. he knew that they were weary of his rule and of war. in proportion as the egyptian army advanced, so their loyalty and the taxes they paid decreased. he therefore abandoned all idea of making a stand at berber. the emir yunes--who, since he had been transferred from dongola in , had ruled the district--was directed to collect all the camels, boats, grain, and other things that might assist an invading army and send them to metemma. the duty was most thoroughly performed. the inhabitants were soon relieved of all their property and of most of their means of livelihood, and their naturally bitter resentment at this merciless treatment explains to some extent the astonishing events which followed the capture of abu hamed. this last place abdullah never regarded as more than an outpost. its garrison was not large, and although it had now become the most northerly dervish position, only a slender reinforcement was added to the force under the command of mohammed-ez-zein. the power of the gunboats and their effect in the dongola campaign were fully appreciated by the arabs; and the khalifa, in the hopes of closing the sixth cataract, began to construct several forts at the northern end of the shabluka gorge. the bordein, one of gordon's old steamers, plied busily between omdurman and wad hamed, transporting guns and stores; and ahmed fedil was sent with a sufficient force to hold the works when they were made. but the prophecy of the mahdi exercised a powerful effect on the khalifa's mind, and while he neglected no detail he based his hopes on the issue of a great battle on the plains of kerreri, when the invaders should come to the walls of the city. with this prospect continually before him he drilled and organised the increasing army at omdurman with the utmost regularity, and every day the savage soldiery practised their evolutions upon the plain they were presently to strew with their bodies. but after a while it became apparent that the 'turks' were not advancing. they tarried on the lands they had won. the steamers went no further than merawi. the iron road stopped at kerma. why had they not followed up their success? obviously because they feared the army that awaited them at omdurman. at this the khalifa took fresh courage, and in january he began to revolve schemes for taking the offensive and expelling the invaders from the dongola province. the army drilled and manoeuvred continually on the plains of kerreri; great numbers of camels were collected at omdurman; large stores of dried kisru or 'soudan biscuit,' the food of dervishes on expeditions, were prepared. the sirdar did not remain in ignorance of these preparations. the tireless enterprise of the intelligence branch furnished the most complete information; and preparations were made to concentrate the troops in dongola on any threatened point, should the enemy advance. regular reconnaissances were made by the cavalry both into the desert towards gakdul wells and along the river. towards the end of may it was reported that the emir yunes had crossed the nile and was raiding the villages on the left bank below abu hamed. in consequence the sirdar ordered a strong patrol under captain le gallais, and consisting of three squadrons of cavalry under captain mahon, three companies of the camel corps, and men of the ixth soudanese on camels, with one maxim gun, to reconnoitre up the nile through the shukuk pass and as far as salamat. the outward journey was unbroken by incident; but as the patrol was returning it was attacked by an equal force of dervishes, and a sharp little skirmish ensued in which one british officer--captain peyton--was severely wounded, nine egyptian troopers were killed, and three others wounded. this proof that the dervishes were on the move enforced the greatest vigilance in all the dongola garrisons. at the end of may, mahmud with his army arrived at omdurman. the khalifa received him with delight, and several imposing reviews were held outside the city. mahmud himself was eager to march against the 'turks.' he had no experience of modern rifles, and felt confident that he could easily destroy or at least roll back the invading forces. partly persuaded by the zeal of his lieutenant, and partly by the wavering and doubtful attitude of the jaalin, the khalifa determined early in june to send the kordofan army to occupy metemma, and thereby either to awe the tribe into loyalty, or force them to revolt while the egyptian troops were still too distant to assist them. he summoned the chief of the jaalin, abdalla-wad-saad, to omdurman, and informed him that the jaalin territories were threatened by the turks. in the goodness of his heart, therefore, and because he knew that they loved the mahdi and practised the true religion, he was resolved to protect them from their enemies. the chief bowed his head. the khalifa continued that the trusty mahmud with his army would be sent for that purpose; abdalla might show his loyalty in furnishing them with all supplies and accommodation. he intimated that the interview was over. but the jaalin chief had the temerity to protest. he assured the khalifa of his loyalty, and of the ability of his tribe to repel the enemy. he implored him not to impose the burden of an army upon them. he exaggerated the poverty of metemma; he lamented the misfortunes of the times. finally he begged forgiveness for making his protest. the khalifa was infuriated. forgetting his usual self-control and the forms of public utterance, he broke out into a long and abusive harangue. he told the chief that he had long doubted his loyalty, that he despised his protestations, that he was worthy of a shameful death, that his tribe were a blot upon the face of the earth, and that he hoped mahmud would improve their manners and those of their wives. abdalla-wad-saad crept from the presence, and returned in fury and disgust to metemma. having collected the head men of his tribe, he informed them of his reception and the khalifa's intent. they did not need to be told that the quartering upon them of mahmud's army meant the plunder of their goods, the ruin of their homes, and the rape of their women. it was resolved to revolt and join the egyptian forces. as a result of the council the jaalin chief wrote two letters. the first was addressed to the sirdar, and reached general rundle at merawi by messenger on the th of june. it declared the jaalin submission to the government, and begged for help, if possible in men, or, failing that, in arms; but ended by saying that, help or no help, the tribe were resolved to fight the dervishes and hold metemma to the death. the second letter--a mad and fatal letter--carried defiance to the khalifa. rundle, who was at merawi when the jaalin messenger found him, lost no time. a large amount of ammunition and , remington rifles were speedily collected and hurried on camels across the desert by the korti-metemma route, escorted by a strong detachment of the camel corps. the khalifa did not receive his letter until the th of june. but he acted with even greater promptitude. part of mahmud's army had already started for the north. mahmud and the rest followed on the th. on the th the advanced guard arrived before metemma. the jaalin prepared to resist desperately. nearly the whole tribe had responded to the summons of their chief, and more than , men were collected behind the walls of the town. but in all this force there were only eighty serviceable rifles, and only fifteen rounds of ammunition each. abdalla expected that the dervishes would make their heaviest attack on the south side of metemma, and he therefore disposed his few riflemen along that front. the defence of the rest of the town had perforce to be entrusted to the valour of the spearmen. on the morning of the st of july, mahmud, with a force variously estimated at , or , men, began his assault. the first attack fell, as the chief had anticipated, on the southern face. it was repulsed with severe loss by the jaalin riflemen. a second attack followed immediately. the enemy had meanwhile surrounded the whole town, and just as the jaalin ammunition was exhausted a strong force of the dervishes penetrated the northern face of their defences, which was held only by spearmen. the whole of mahmud's army poured in through the gap, and the garrison, after a stubborn resistance, were methodically exterminated. an inhuman butchery of the children and some of the women followed. abdalla-wad-saad was among the killed. a few of the jaalin who had escaped from the general destruction fled towards gakdul. here they found the camel corps with their caravan of rifles and ammunition. like another force that had advanced by this very road to carry succour to men in desperate distress, the relief had arrived too late. the remnants of the jaalin were left in occupation of gakdul wells. the convoy and its escort returned to korti. but while the attention of the khalifa was directed to these matters, a far more serious menace offered from another quarter. unnoticed by the dervishes, or, if noticed, unappreciated, the railway was stretching farther and farther into the desert. by the middle of july it had reached the th mile, and, as is related in the last chapter, work had to be suspended until abu hamed was in the hands of the egyptian forces. the nile was rising fast. very soon steamers would be able to pass the fourth cataract. it should have been evident that the next movement in the advance of the 'turks' impended. the khalifa seems, indeed, to have understood that the rise of the river increased his peril, for throughout july he continued to send orders to the emir in berber--yunes--that he should advance into the monassir district, harry such villages as existed, and obstruct the frequent reconnaissances from merawi. yunes, however, preferred to do otherwise, and remained on the left bank opposite berber until, at length, his master recalled him to omdurman to explain his conduct. meanwhile, determined with mathematical exactness by the rise of the nile and progress of the railway, the moment of the egyptian advance arrived. at the end of july preparations were made, as secretly as possible, to despatch a flying column against abu hamed. the dervish garrison, under mohammed-ez-zein, was not believed to exceed men, but in order that there should be no doubt as to the result it was determined to employ a strong force. a brigade of all arms was formed as follows:-- commanding: major-general hunter cavalry....... one troop artillery ...... no. field battery [this battery consisted of six krupp guns, two maxims, one gardner gun, and one nordenfeldt--an effective medley.] infantry....... macdonald's brigade -- rd egyptian --ixth soudanese --xth " --xith " major-general sir archibald hunter, the officer to whom the operation was entrusted, was from many points of view the most imposing figure in the egyptian army. he had served through the nile expedition of - , with some distinction, in the khedive's service. thenceforward his rise was rapid, even for an egyptian officer, and in ten years he passed through all the grades from captain to major-general. his promotion was not, however, undeserved. foremost in every action, twice wounded--once at the head of his brigade--always distinguished for valour and conduct, hunter won the admiration of his comrades and superiors. during the river war he became, in spite of his hard severity, the darling of the egyptian army. all the personal popularity which great success might have brought to the sirdar focussed itself on his daring, good-humoured subordinate, and it was to hunter that the soldiers looked whenever there was fighting to be done. the force now placed under his command for the attack upon abu hamed amounted to about , men. until that place was taken all other operations were delayed. the sirdar awaited the issue at merawi. the railway paused in mid-desert. the troops composing the 'flying column' concentrated at kassingar, a small village a few miles above merawi, on the right (or abu hamed) bank of the nile. general hunter began his march on the th of july. the total distance from kassingar to abu hamed is miles. the greatest secrecy had been observed in the preparation of the force, but it was known that as soon as the column actually started the news would be carried to the enemy. speed was therefore essential; for if the dervish garrison in abu hamed were reinforced from berber, the flying column might not be strong enough to take the village. on the other hand, the great heat and the certainty that the troops would have to fight an action at the end of the march imposed opposite considerations on the commander. to avoid the sun, the greater part of the distance was covered at night. yet the advantage thus gained was to some extent neutralised by the difficulty of marching over such broken ground in the darkness. throughout the whole length of the course of the nile there is no more miserable wilderness than the monassir desert. the stream of the river is broken and its channel obstructed by a great confusion of boulders, between and among which the water rushes in dangerous cataracts. the sandy waste approaches the very brim, and only a few palm-trees, or here and there a squalid mud hamlet, reveal the existence of life. the line of advance lay along the river; but no road relieved the labour of the march. sometimes trailing across a broad stretch of white sand, in which the soldiers sank to their ankles, and which filled their boots with a rasping grit; sometimes winding over a pass or through a gorge of sharp-cut rocks, which, even in the moonlight, felt hot with the heat of the previous day--always in a long, jerky, and interrupted procession of men and camels, often in single file--the column toiled painfully like the serpent to whom it was said, 'on thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat.' the column started at . in the evening, and by a march of sixteen and a half miles reached mushra-el-obiad at about midnight. here a convenient watering-place, not commanded by the opposite bank, and the shade of eight or ten thorny bushes afforded the first suitable bivouac. at . p.m. on the th the march was continued eight and a half miles to a spot some little distance beyond shebabit. the pace was slow, and the route stony and difficult. it was after dark when the halting-place was reached. several of the men strayed from the column, wandered in the gloom, and reached the bivouac exhausted. general hunter had proposed to push on the next day to hosh-el-geref, but the fatigues of his troops in the two night marches had already been severe, and as, after abu haraz, the track twisted away from the river so that there was no water for five miles, he resolved to halt for the day and rest. hosh-el-geref was therefore not reached until the st of august--a day later than had been expected; but the rest had proved of such benefit to the troops that the subsequent acceleration of progress fully compensated for the delay. the column moved on again at midnight and halted at daybreak at salmi. in the small hours of the next morning the march was resumed. the road by the nile was found too difficult for the maxim guns, which were on wheels, and these had to make a detour of twenty-eight miles into the desert while the infantry moved ten miles along the river. in order that the maxims should not arrive alone at dakfilli, general hunter had marched thither with the ixth soudanese at p.m. on the previous day. the rest of the column followed a few hours later. on the th, by an eighteen-mile march through deep sand, el kab was reached. a single shot was fired from the opposite bank of the river as the cavalry patrol entered the village; and there was no longer any doubt that the dervishes knew of the advance of the column. both the troops and the transport were now moving admirably; nevertheless, their sufferings were severe. the nights were consumed in movement. without shade the soldiers could not sleep by day. all ranks wearied, and the men would frequently, during the night marches, sink down upon the ground in profound slumber, only to be sternly aroused and hurried on. but the pace of the advance continued to be swift. on the th, the force, by a fourteen-mile march, reached khula. here they were joined by sheikh abdel-azim with ababda camel-men from murat wells. up to this point three egyptians had died and fifty-eight men had been left behind exhausted in depots. a double ration of meat was issued to the whole force. the column moved on during the night, and arrived at ginnifab at a.m. on the morning of the th. here startling news of the enemy was received. it was known that mohammed-ez-zein was determined to fight, and a trustworthy report was now received that a large force was coming down from berber to support the abu hamed garrison. in spite of the long marches and the fatigues of the troops, general hunter resolved to hurry on. he had already made up the day spent at abu haraz. he now decided to improve on the prescribed itinerary, accelerate his own arrival and anticipate that of the dervish reinforcements. accordingly the troops marched all through the night of the - th with only a short halt of an hour and a half, so as to attack abu hamed at dawn. after covering sixteen miles of bad ground, the 'flying column' reached ginnifab, miles from kassingar and only two from the dervish post, at . on the morning of the th of august. a halt of two hours was allowed for the troops to prepare themselves. half the rd egyptian battalion remained as escort to the transport and reserve ammunition, and then the force moved off in the darkness towards the enemy's position. the village of abu hamed straggles along the bank of the nile, and consists of a central mass of mud houses, intersected by a network of winding lanes and alleys, about yards long by perhaps yards wide. to the north and south are detached clusters of ruined huts, and to the south there rises a large, ragged pile of rocks. the ground slopes gradually up from the river, so that at a distance of yards the village is surrounded on three sides by a low plateau. upon this plateau stand three stone watch-towers, which were erected by general gordon. the dervish garrison were strongly posted in shelter trenches and loop-holed houses along the eastern face of the village. the towers were held by their outposts. making a wide circuit to their left, and then swinging round to the right, so as to front facing the river, the brigade silently moved towards the enemy's position, and at a quarter past six occupied the plateau in a crescent-shaped formation; the xith soudanese on the right, opposite the north-east corner of the village; the battery, escorted by the remaining half-battalion of the rd egyptians, next; then the ixth in the centre, and the xth soudanese on the left flank. as the troops approached the watch-towers the dervish outposts fell back and the force continued to advance until the edge of the plateau was reached. from here the whole scene was visible. the day was just breaking, and the mist hung low and white over the steel-grey surface of the river. the outlines of the mud houses were sharply defined on this pale background. the dervish riflemen crouched in the shelter trench that ran round the village. their cavalry, perhaps a hundred strong, were falling in hurriedly on the sandy ground to the south near the ragged rocks. the curve of the hills, crowned with the dark line of the troops, completed and framed the picture. within this small amphitheatre one of the minor dramas of war was now to be enacted. at half past six the battery came into action, and after a few shells had been fired at the loopholed houses in the left centre of the position, a general advance was ordered. in excellent order the three soudanese battalions, with general hunter, lieut.-colonel macdonald, and the other british officers on horseback in front of their line, advanced slowly down the hill, opening a destructive fire on the entrenchment. the distance was scarcely three hundred yards; but the crescent formation of the attack made the lines of advance converge, and before half the distance was covered the xth were compelled to halt, lest the xith soudanese on the right flank should fire into them. the dervishes remained silent until the troops were within a hundred yards, when they discharged two tremendous volleys, which were chiefly effective upon the halted battalion. major sidney, lieutenant fitzclarence, and a dozen men were shot dead. more than fifty men were wounded. all the soudanese thereupon with a loud shout rushed upon the entrenchment, stormed it, and hunted the dervishes into the houses. in the street-fighting which followed, the numbers of the troops prevailed. the advance scarcely paused until the river bank was reached, and by . abu hamed was in the possession of the egyptian forces. the dervish horsemen, who had remained spectators near the southern crag during the attack, fled towards berber as soon as they saw the attack successful. scarcely any of the infantry escaped. in this action, besides the two british officers, major h. m. sidney and lieutenant e. fitzclarence, native soldiers were killed; native soldiers were wounded. the news of the capture of abu hamed was carried swiftly by camel and wire to all whom it might concern. the sirdar, anticipating the result, had already ordered the gunboats to commence the passage of the fourth cataract. the camp at railhead sprang to life after an unaccustomed rest, and the line began again to grow rapidly. the dervishes who were hurrying from berber were only twenty miles from abu hamed when they met the fugitives. they immediately turned back, and retired to the foot of the fifth cataract, whence after a few days' halt they continued their retreat. their proximity to the captured village shows how little time the column had to spare, and that general hunter was wise to press his marches. the emir who commanded at berber heard of the loss of the outpost on the th. he sent the messenger on to metemma. mahmud replied on the th that he was starting at once with his whole army to reinforce berber. apparently, however, he did not dare to move without the khalifa's permission; for his letters, as late as the th, show that he had not broken his camp, and was still asking the emir for information as to the doings of the 'turks.' of a truth there was plenty to tell. on the th of august the gunboats el teb and tamai approached the fourth cataract to ascend to the abu hamed-berber reach of the river. major david was in charge of the operation. lieutenants hood and beatty (royal navy) commanded the vessels. two hundred men of the th egyptians were towed in barges to assist in hauling the steamers in the difficult places. the current was, however, too strong, and it was found necessary to leave three barges, containing soldiers, at the foot of the rapids. nevertheless, as the cataract was not considered a very formidable barrier, major david determined to make the attempt. early on the th, therefore, the tamai tried the ascent. about local shaiggia tribesmen had been collected, and their efforts were directed--or, as the result proved, mis-directed--by those few of the egyptian soldiers who had not been left behind. the steamer, with her engines working at full speed, succeeded in mounting half the distance. but the rush of water was then so great that her bows were swept round, and, after a narrow escape of capsizing, she was carried swiftly down the stream. the officers thought that this failure was due to the accidental fouling of a rope at a critical moment, and to the fact that there were not enough local tribesmen pulling at the hawsers. four hundred more shaiggia were therefore collected from the neighbouring villages, and in the afternoon the teb attempted the passage. her fortunes were far worse than those of the tamai. owing to the lack of co-operation and discipline among the local tribesmen, their utter ignorance of what was required of them, and the want of proper supervision, the hauling power was again too weak. again the bows of the steamer were swept round, and, as the hawsers held, a great rush of water poured over the bulwarks. in ten seconds the teb heeled over and turned bottom upwards. the hawsers parted under this new strain, and she was swept down stream with only her keel showing. lieutenant beatty and most of the crew were thrown, or glad to jump, into the foaming water of the cataract, and, being carried down the river, were picked up below the rapids by the tamai, which was luckily under steam. their escape was extraordinary, for of the score who were flung into the water only one egyptian was drowned. two other men were, however, missing, and their fate seemed certain. the capsized steamer, swirled along by the current, was jammed about a mile below the cataract between two rocks, where she became a total wreck. anxious to see if there was any chance of raising her, the officers proceeded in the tamai to the scene. the bottom of the vessel was just visible above the surface. it was evident to all that her salvage would be a work of months. the officers were about to leave the wreck, when suddenly a knocking was heard within the hull. tools were brought, a plate was removed, and there emerged, safe and sound from the hold in which they had been thus terribly imprisoned, the second engineer and a stoker. when the rapidity with which the steamer turned upside down, with the engines working, the fires burning, and the boilers full--the darkness, with all the floors become ceilings--the violent inrush of water--the wild career down the stream--are remembered, it will be conceded that the experience of these men was sufficiently remarkable. search was now made for another passage. this was found on the th, nearer the right bank of the river. on the th the metemma arrived with more men of the th egyptians. three days were spent in preparations and to allow the nile to rise a little more. on the th, elaborate precautions being observed, the metemma passed the cataract safely, and was tied up to the bank on the higher reach. the tamai followed the next day. on the th and th the new gunboats fateh, naser, and zafir, the most powerful vessels on the river, accomplished the passage. meanwhile the metemma and tamai had already proceeded up stream. on the rd the unarmed steamer dal made the ascent, and by the th the whole flotilla reached abu hamed safely. after the arrival of the gunboats events began to move at the double. the sudden dart upon abu hamed had caused the utmost consternation among the dervishes. finding that mahmud was not going to reinforce him, and fearing the treachery of the local tribes, zeki osman, the emir in berber, decided to fall back, and on the th he evacuated berber and marched south. on the th general hunter at abu hamed heard that the dervish garrison had left the town. the next day he despatched abdel-azim, the chief of irregulars, and ahmed bey khalifa, his brother, with forty ababda tribesmen, to reconnoitre. these bold fellows pushed on recklessly, and found the inhabitants everywhere terrified or acquiescent. spreading extraordinary tales of the strength of the army who were following them, they created a panic all along the river, and, in spite of a sharp fight with a dervish patrol, reached berber on the st. as there was no armed force in the town, the enterprising allies rode into the streets and occupied the grain store--the only public building--in the name of the government. they then sent word back to abu hamed of what they had done, and sat down in the town, thus audaciously captured, to await developments. the astonishing news of the fall of berber reached general hunter on the nd of september. he immediately telegraphed to merawi. sir herbert kitchener was confronted with a momentous question: should berber be occupied or not? it may at first seem that there could be little doubt about the matter. the objective of the expedition was omdurman. the occupation of berber by an egyptian garrison would settle at once the difficulties near suakin. the town was believed to be on the clear waterway to the dervish capital. the moral effect of its capture upon the riverain tribes and throughout the soudan would be enormous. berber was, in fact, the most important strategic point on the whole line of advance. this great prize and advantage was now to be had for the asking. the opposite considerations were, however, tremendous. abu hamed marked a definite stage in the advance. as long as merawi and the other posts in dongola were strongly held, the line from abu hamed to debba was capable of easy defence. abu hamed could soon be made impregnable to dervish attack. the forces in dongola could be quickly concentrated on any threatened point. at this moment in the campaign it was possible to stop and wait with perfect safety. in the meantime the khalifa would steadily weaken and the railway might steadily grow. when the line reached the angle of the river, it would be time to continue the systematic and cautious advance. until then prudence and reason counselled delay. to occupy berber was to risk much. mahmud, with a large and victorious army, lay at metemma. osman digna, with , men, held adarama almost within striking distance. the railway still lagged in the desert. the dongola garrisons must be weakened to provide a force for berber. the dervishes had the advantage of occupying the interior of the angle which the nile forms at abu hamed. the troops in berber would have to draw their supplies by a long and slender line of camel communication, winding along all the way from merawi, and exposed, as a glance at the map will show, throughout its whole length to attack. more than all this: to advance to berber must inevitably force the development of the whole war. the force in the town would certainly have its communications threatened, would probably have to fight for its very existence. the occupation of berber would involve sooner or later a general action; not a fight like firket, hafir, or abu hamed, with the advantage of numbers on the side of the egyptian troops, but an even battle. for such a struggle british troops were necessary. at this time it seemed most unlikely that they would be granted. but if berber was occupied, the war, until the arrival of british troops, would cease to be so largely a matter of calculation, and must pass almost entirely into the sphere of chance. the whole situation was premature and unforeseen. the sirdar had already won success. to halt was to halt in safety; to go on was to go on at hazard. most of the officers who had served long in the egyptian army understood the question. they waited the decision in suspense. the sirdar and the consul-general unhesitatingly faced the responsibility together. on the rd of september general hunter received orders to occupy berber. he started at once with men of the ixth soudanese on board the gunboats tamai, zafir, naser, and fateh. shortly after daybreak on the th the egyptian flag was hoisted over the town. having disembarked the infantry detachment, the flotilla steamed south to try to harass the retreating emir. they succeeded; for on the next day they caught him, moving along the bank in considerable disorder, and, opening a heavy fire, soon drove the mixed crowd of fugitives, horse and foot, away from the river into the desert. the gunboats then returned to berber, towing a dozen captured grain-boats. meanwhile the sirdar had started for the front himself. riding swiftly with a small escort across the desert from merawi, he crossed the nile at the baggara cataract and reached berber on the th of september. having inspected the immediate arrangements for defence, he withdrew to abu hamed, and there busily prepared to meet the developments which he well knew might follow at once, and must follow in the course of a few months. chapter x: berber the town of berber stands at a little distance from the nile, on the right bank of a channel which is full only when the river is in flood. between this occasional stream and the regular waterway there runs a long strip of rich alluvial soil, covered during the greater part of the year with the abundant crops which result from its annual submersion and the thick coating of nile mud which it then receives. the situation of berber is fixed by this fertile tract, and the houses stretch for more than seven miles along it and the channel by which it is caused. the town, as is usual on the nile, is comparatively narrow, and in all its length it is only at one point broader than three-quarters of a mile. two wide streets run longitudinally north and south from end to end, and from these many narrow twisting alleys lead to the desert or the river. the berber of egyptian days lies in ruins at the southern end of the main roads. the new town built by the dervishes stands at the north. both are foul and unhealthy; and if old berber is the more dilapidated, new berber seemed to the british officers who visited it to be in a more active state of decay. the architectural style of both was similar. the houses were constructed by a simple method. a hole was dug in the ground. the excavated mud formed the walls of the building. the roof consisted of palm-leaves and thorn bushes. the hole became a convenient cesspool. such was berber, and this 'emporium of soudan trade,' as it has been called by enthusiasts, contained at the time of its recapture by the egyptian forces a miserable population of , males and , females, as destitute of property as their dwellings were of elegance. the egyptian garrison of berber at first consisted only of the men of the ixth soudanese, and two companies of the camel corps, who arrived on the th of september, having marched across the desert from merawi. but the proximity of osman digna at adarama made it necessary speedily to strengthen the force. during the latter part of september macdonald's brigade, with the exception of half the rd egyptians, was moved south from abu hamed, and by the end of the month the infantry in berber were swollen to three and a half battalions. this was further increased on the th of october by the arrival of the xiiith soudanese and the remaining half of the rd egyptians, and thereafter the place was held by five battalions ( rd, ixth, xth, xith, xiiith), no. field battery, and two companies of the camel corps. as all the dervishes on the right bank of the nile had fled to the south of the atbara, it was found possible to establish a small advanced post of camel corps and friendly arabs in the village of dakhila, at the confluence of the rivers. from this humble beginning the atbara fort with its great entrenchment was soon to develop. the effect of the occupation of berber upon the tribes around suakin was decisive, and the whole country between these towns became at once tranquil and loyal. osman digna's influence was destroyed. the friendly villages were no longer raided. the governor of the town became in reality, as well as in name, the governor of the red sea littoral. the route from suakin to berber was opened; and a camel corps patrol, several small caravans of traders, and a party of war correspondents--who might boast that they were the first europeans to make the journey for thirteen years--passed safely along it. it is now necessary to look to the enemy. had the khalifa allowed the emir mahmud to march north immediately after the destruction of the dervish outpost in abu hamed, the course of the operations would have been very different. mahmud would certainly have defended berber with his whole army. the advance of the expeditionary force must have been delayed until the desert railway reached the river, and probably for another year. but, as the last chapter has described, the sudden seizure of abu hamed, the defection of the riverain tribes, and the appearance of the gunboats above the fourth cataract persuaded abdullah that the climax of the war approached, and that he was about to be attacked in his capital. he accordingly devoted himself to his preparations for defence, and forbade his lieutenant to advance north of metemma or attempt any offensive operations. in consequence berber fell, and its fall convinced the khalifa that his belief was well founded. he worked with redoubled energy. an elaborate system of forts armed with artillery was constructed outside the great wall of omdurman along the river-bank. the concentration of arab and black soldiery from gedaref, kordofan, and darfur continued. large quantities of grain, of camels and other supplies, were requisitioned from the people of the ghezira (the country lying between the blue and white niles) and stored or stabled in the city. the discontent to which this arbitrary taxation gave rise was cured by a more arbitrary remedy. as many of the doubtful and embittered tribesmen as could be caught were collected in omdurman, where they were compelled to drill regularly, and found it prudent to protest their loyalty. the strength and tenacity of the ruler were surprisingly displayed. the khalifa sherif, who had been suspected of sympathising with the jaalin, was made a prisoner at large. the direst penalties attended the appearance of sedition. a close cordon around the city, and especially towards the north, prevented much information from reaching the egyptian troops; and though small revolts broke out in kordofan in consequence of the withdrawal of mahmud's army, the dervish empire as a whole remained submissive, and the khalifa was able to muster all its remaining force to meet the expected onslaught of his enemies. during the first week in october the sirdar decided to send the gunboats--which now plied, though with some difficulty, up and down the fifth cataract--to reconnoitre metemma and discover the actual strength and position of mahmud's army. on the th the zafir, fateh, and naser steamed south from berber, under commander keppel, each carrying, besides its ordinary native crew, fifty men of the ixth soudanese and two british sergeants of marine artillery. shortly after daybreak on the th the flotilla approached the enemy's position. so silently had they moved that a small dervish outpost a few miles to the north of shendi was surprised still sleeping, and the negligent guards, aroused by a splutter of firing from the maxim guns, awoke to find three terrible machines close upon them. the gunboats pursued their way, and, disdaining a few shots which were fired from the ruins of shendi, arrived, at about seven o'clock, within range of metemma. the town itself stood more than a thousand yards from the nile, but six substantial mud forts, armed with artillery, lined and defended the riverside. creeping leisurely forward along the east bank, remote from the dervish works, the flotilla came into action at a range of , yards. the fire was at first concentrated on the two northern forts, and the shells, striking the mud walls in rapid succession or bursting in the interior, soon enveloped them in dust and smoke. the dervishes immediately replied, but the inferiority of their skill and weapons was marked, and, although their projectiles reached the flotilla, very few took effect. one shell, however, crashed through the deck of the zafir, mortally wounding a soudanese soldier, and two struck the fateh. after the long-range bombardment had continued for about an hour the gunboats moved forward opposite to the enemy's position, and poured a heavy and continuous fire of shrapnel and double shell into all the forts, gradually subduing their resistance. the fugitives from the batteries, and small parties of baggara horse who galloped about on the open plain between the works and the town, afforded good targets to the maxims, and many were licked up even at extreme ranges. no sooner had the gunboats passed the forts than the dervish fire ceased entirely, and it was discovered that their embrasures only commanded the northern approach. as the guns could not be pointed to the southward, the flotilla need fear nothing from any fort that had been left behind. the officers were congratulating themselves on the folly of their foes, when danger threatened from another quarter. the boats had hugged the eastern bank as closely as possible during their duel with the forts. they were scarcely a hundred yards from the shore, when suddenly a sharp fire of musketry was opened from twenty or thirty dervish rifle-men concealed in the mimosa scrub. the bullets pattered all over the decks, but while many recorded narrow escapes no one was actually hit, and the maxim guns, revolving quickly on their pivots, took a bloody vengeance for the surprise. the flotilla then steamed slowly past the town, and, having thoroughly reconnoitred it, turned about and ran down stream, again exchanging shells with the dervish artillery. all firing ceased at half-past two; but six sailing-boats containing grain were captured on the return voyage, and with these the gunboats retired in triumph to a small island six miles north of metemma, where they remained for the night. it being now known that bombarding the dervishes was no less enjoyable than exciting, it was determined to spend another day with them; and at four o'clock the next morning the flotilla again steamed southward, so as to be in position opposite metemma before daylight. fire was opened on both sides with the dawn, and it was at once evident that the dervishes had not been idle during the night. it appeared that on the previous day mahmud had expected a land attack from the direction of gakdul, and had placed part of his artillery and nearly all his army in position to resist it. but as soon as he was convinced that the gunboats were unsupported he moved several of the landward guns into the river forts, and even built two new works, so that on the th the dervishes brought into action eleven guns, firing from eight small round forts. the gunboats, however, contented themselves with keeping at a range at which their superior weapons enabled them to strike without being struck, and so, while inflicting heavy loss on their enemies, sustained no injury themselves. after four hours' methodical and remorseless bombardment commander keppel considered the reconnaissance complete, and gave the order to retire down stream. the dervish gunners, elated in spite of their losses by the spectacle of the retreating vessels, redoubled their fire, and continued hurling shell after shell in defiance down the river until their adversaries were far beyond their range. as the gunboats floated northward their officers, looking back towards metemma, saw an even stranger scene than the impotent but exulting forts. during the morning a few flags and figures had been distinguished moving about the low range of sandhills near the town; and as soon as the retirement of the flotilla began, the whole of the dervish army, at least , men, both horse and foot, and formed in an array more than a mile in length, marched triumphantly into view, singing, shouting, and waving their banners amid a great cloud of dust. it was their only victory. the loss on the gunboats was limited to the single soudanese soldier, who died of his wounds, and a few trifling damages. the arab slaughter is variously estimated, one account rating it at , men; but half that number would probably be no exaggeration. the gunboats fired in the two days' bombardment shells and several thousand rounds of maxim-gun ammunition. they then returned to berber, reporting fully on the enemy's position and army. as soon as berber had been strongly occupied by the egyptian troops, osman digna realised that his position at adarama was not only useless but very dangerous. mahmud had long been imperiously summoning him to join the forces at metemma; and although he hated the kordofan general, and resented his superior authority, the wary and cunning osman decided that in this case it would be convenient to obey and make a virtue of necessity. accordingly about the same time that the gunboats were making their first reconnaissance and bombardment of metemma, he withdrew with his two thousand hadendoa from adarama, moved along the left bank of the atbara until the tongue of desert between the rivers became sufficiently narrow for it to be crossed in a day, and so made his way by easy stages to shendi. when the sirdar heard of the evacuation of adarama he immediately determined to assure himself of the fact, to reconnoitre the unmapped country in that region, and to destroy any property that osman might have left behind him. on the rd of october, therefore, a flying column started from berber under the command of general hunter, and formed as follows: xith soudanese (major jackson), two guns, one company of the camel corps, and abdel-azim and irregulars. lightly equipped, and carrying the supplies on a train of camels, the small force moved rapidly along the nile and reached the post at the confluence on the th, and arrived at adarama on the th, after a journey of eighty-four miles. the report that osman digna had returned to the nile proved to be correct. his former headquarters were deserted, and although a patrol of sixty of the camel corps and the arab irregulars scouted for forty miles further up the river, not a single dervish was to be seen. having thus collected a great deal of negative information, and delaying only to burn adarama to the ground, the column returned to berber. it was now november. the nile was falling fast, and an impassable rapid began to appear at um tiur, four miles north of the confluence. the sirdar had a few days in which to make up his mind whether he would keep his gunboats on the upper or lower reach. as in the latter case their patrolling limits would have been restricted, and they would no longer have been able to watch the army at metemma, he determined to leave them on the enemy's side of the obstruction. this involved the formation of a depot at dakhila ['atbara fort'], where simple repairs could be executed and wood and other necessities stored. to guard this little dockyard half the rd egyptian battalion was moved from berber and posted in a small entrenchment. the other half-battalion followed in a few weeks. the post at the confluence was gradually growing into the great camp of a few months later. a regular system of gunboat patrolling was established on the upper reach, and on the st of november the zafir, naser, and metemma, under commander keppel, again steamed south to reconnoitre mahmud's position. the next day they were joined by the fateh, and on the rd the three larger boats ran the gauntlet of the forts. a brisk artillery duel ensued, but the dervish aim was, as usual, erratic, and the vessels received no injury. it was observed that the position of the dervish force was unchanged, but that three new forts had been constructed to the south of the town. the gunboats continued on their way and proceeded as far as wad habeshi. the arab cavalry kept pace with them along the bank, ready to prevent any landing. having seen all there was to be seen, the flotilla returned and again passed the batteries at metemma. but this time they were not unscathed, and a shell struck the fateh, slightly wounding three men. no other incident enlivened the monotony of november. the khalifa continued his defensive preparations. mahmud remained motionless at metemma; and although he repeatedly begged to be allowed to advance against the force near berber he was steadily refused, and had to content himself with sending raiding parties along the left bank of the nile, and collecting large stores of grain from all the villages within his reach. meanwhile the railway was stretching further and further to the south, and the great strain which the sudden occupation of berber had thrown upon the transport was to some extent relieved. the tranquillity which had followed the advance to berber was as opportune as it was unexpected. the sirdar, delighted that no evil consequences had followed his daring move, and finding that he was neither attacked nor harassed in any way, journeyed to kassala to arrange the details of its retrocession. the convenient situation of kassala--almost equally distant from omdurman, berber, suakin, massowa, and rosaires--and the fertility of the surrounding region raise it to the dignity of the most important place in the eastern soudan. the soil is rich; the climate, except in the rainy season, not unhealthy. a cool night breeze relieves the heat of the day, and the presence of abundant water at the depth of a few feet below the surface supplies the deficiency of a river. in the year the population is said to have numbered more than , . the egyptians considered the town of sufficient value to require a garrison of , soldiers. a cotton mill adequately fitted with machinery and a factory chimney gave promise of the future development of manufacture. a regular revenue attested the existence of trade. but disasters fell in heavy succession on the eastern soudan and blighted the prosperity of its mud metropolis. in , after a long siege and a stubborn resistance, kassala was taken by the dervishes. the garrison were massacred, enslaved, or incorporated in the mahdi's army. the town was plundered and the trade destroyed. for nearly ten years an arab force occupied the ruins and a camp outside them. kassala became a frontier post of the dervish empire. its population perished or fled to the italian territory. this situation might have remained unaltered until after the battle of omdurman if the dervishes had been content with the possession of kassala. but in the emir in command of the garrison, being anxious to distinguish himself, disobeyed the khalifa's instructions to remain on the defensive and attacked the europeans at agordat. the arab force of about , men were confronted by , italian troops, protected by strong entrenchments, under colonel arimondi. after a fierce but hopeless attack the dervishes were repulsed with a loss of , men, among whom was their rash leader. the engagement was, however, as disastrous to italy as to the khalifa. the fatal african policy of signor crispi received a decided impetus, and in the next year, agreeably to their aspirations in abyssinia, the italians under general baratieri advanced from agordat and captured kassala. the occupation was provisionally recognised by egypt without prejudice to her sovereign rights, and italian regulars and irregulars established themselves in a well-built fort. the severe defeat at adowa in , the disgrace of baratieri, the destruction of his army, and the fall of the crispi cabinet rudely dispelled the african ambitions of italy. kassala became an encumbrance. nor was that all. the dervishes, encouraged by the victory of the abyssinians, invested the fort, and the garrison were compelled to fight hard to hold what their countrymen were anxious to abandon. in these circumstances the italian government offered, at a convenient opportunity, to retrocede kassala to egypt. the offer was accepted, and an arrangement made. the advance of the khedivial forces into the dongola province relieved, as has been described, the pressure of the dervish attacks. the arabs occupied various small posts along the atbara and in the neighbourhood of the town, and contented themselves with raiding. the italians remained entirely on the defensive, waiting patiently for the moment when the fort could be handed over to the egyptian troops. the sirdar had no difficulty in coming to a satisfactory arrangement with general caneva, the italian commander. the fort was to be occupied by an egyptian force, the stores and armament to be purchased at a valuation, and a force of italian arab irregulars to be transferred to the egyptian service. sir h. kitchener then returned to the nile, where the situation had suddenly become acute. during november colonel parsons, the th egyptian battalion, and a few native gunners marched from suakin, and on the th of december arrived at kassala. the italian irregulars--henceforth to be known as the arab battalion--were at once despatched to the attack of the small dervish posts at el fasher and asubri, and on the next day these places were surprised and taken with scarcely any loss. the italian officers, although a little disgusted at the turn of events, treated the egyptian representatives with the most perfect courtesy, and the formal transference of kassala fort was arranged to take place on christmas day. an imposing ceremonial was observed, and the scene itself was strange. the fort was oblong in plan, with mud ramparts and parapets pierced for musketry. tents and stores filled the enclosure. in the middle stood the cotton factory. its machinery had long since been destroyed, but the substantial building formed the central keep of the fort. the tall chimney had become a convenient look-out post. the lightning-conductor acted as a flagstaff. the ruins of the old town of kassala lay brown and confused on the plain to the southward, and behind all rose the dark rugged spurs of the abyssinian mountains. the flags of egypt and of italy were hoisted. the troops of both countries, drawn up in line, exchanged military compliments. then the egyptian guard marched across the drawbridge into the fort and relieved the italian soldiers. the brass band of the th battalion played appropriate airs. the italian flag was lowered, and with a salute of twenty-one guns the retrocession of kassala was complete. here, then, for a year we leave colonel parsons and his small force to swelter in the mud fort, to carry on a partisan warfare with the dervish raiders, to look longingly towards gedaref, and to nurse the hope that when omdurman has fallen their opportunity will come. the reader, like the sirdar, must return in a hurry to the upper nile. towards the end of november the khalifa had begun to realise that the turks did not mean to advance any further till the next flood of the river. he perceived that the troops remained near berber, and that the railway was only a little way south of abu hamed. the blow still impended, but it was delayed. as soon as he had come to this conclusion, he no longer turned a deaf ear to mahmud's solicitations. he knew that the falling nile would restrict the movements of the gunboats. he knew that there were only , men in berber--a mere handful. he did not realise the tremendous power of rapid concentration which the railway had given his enemies; and he began to think of offensive operations. but mahmud should not go alone. the whole strength of the dervish army should be exerted to drive back the invaders. all the troops in omdurman were ordered north. a great camp was again formed near kerreri. thousands of camels were collected, and once more every preparation was made for a general advance. at the beginning of december he sent his own secretary to mahmud to explain the plan, and to assure him of early reinforcements and supplies. lastly, abdullah preached a new jehad, and it is remarkable that, while all former exhortations had been directed against 'the infidel'--i.e., those who did not believe in the mahdi--his letters and sermons on this occasion summoned the tribes to destroy not the egyptians but the christians. the khalifa had no doubts as to who inspired the movement which threatened him. there were at this time scarcely europeans in the soudan; but they had made their presence felt. the sirdar was returning from kassala when the rumours of an intended dervish advance began to grow. every scrap of information was assiduously collected by the intelligence department, but it was not until the th of december, just as he reached wady halfa, that the general received apparently certain news that the khalifa, mahmud, all the emirs, and the whole army were about to march north. there can be no doubt that even this tardy movement of the enemy seriously threatened the success of the operations. if the dervishes moved swiftly, it looked as if a very critical engagement would have to be fought to avoid a damaging retreat. sir h. kitchener's reply to the khalifa's open intent was to order a general concentration of the available egyptian army towards berber, to telegraph to lord cromer asking for a british brigade, and to close the suakin-berber route. the gunboat depot at the confluence, with only a half-battalion escort, was now in an extremely exposed position. the gunboats could not steam north, for the cataract four miles below the confluence was already impassable. since they must remain on the enemy's side, so must their depot; and the depot must be held by a much stronger force. although the sirdar felt too weak to maintain himself even on the defensive without reinforcements, he was now compelled to push still further south. on the nd of december lewis's brigade of four battalions and a battery were hurried along the nile to its junction with the atbara, and began busily entrenching themselves in a angle formed by the rivers. the atbara fort sprang into existence. meanwhile the concentration was proceeding. all the troops in dongola, with the exception of scanty garrisons in merawi, korti, and debba, were massed at berber. the infantry and guns, dropping down the river in boats, entrained at kerma, were carried back to halfa, then hustled across the invaluable desert railway, past abu hamed, and finally deposited at railhead, which then (january ) stood at dakhesh. the whole journey by rail from merawi to dakhesh occupied four days, whereas general hunter with his flying column had taken eight--a fact which proves that, in certain circumstances which euclid could not have foreseen, two sides of a triangle are together shorter than the third side. the egyptian cavalry at merawi received their orders on the th of december, and the british officers hurried from their christmas dinners to prepare for their long march across the bend of the nile to berber. of the eight squadrons, three were pushed on to join lewis's force at the position which will hereinafter be called 'the atbara encampment,' or more familiarly 'the atbara'; three swelled the gathering forces at berber; and two remained for the present in the dongola province, looking anxiously out towards gakdul wells and metemma. the war office, who had been nervous about the situation in the soudan since the hasty occupation of berber, and who had a very lively recollection of the events of and , lost no time in the despatch of british troops; and the speed with which a force, so suddenly called for, was concentrated shows the capacity for energy which may on occasion be developed even by our disjointed military organisation. the st battalions of the royal warwickshire regiment, of the lincoln regiment, and of the cameron highlanders were formed into a brigade and moved from cairo into the soudan. the st battalion of the seaforth highlanders was brought from malta to egypt, and held in immediate readiness to reinforce the troops at the front. other battalions were sent to take the places of those moved south, so that the army of occupation was not diminished. the officer selected for the command of the british brigade was a man of high character and ability. general gatacre had already led a brigade in the chitral expedition, and, serving under sir robert low and sir bindon blood had gained so good a reputation that after the storming of the malakand pass and the subsequent action in the plain of khar it was thought desirable to transpose his brigade with that of general kinloch, and send gatacre forward to chitral. from the mountains of the north-west frontier the general was ordered to bombay, and in a stubborn struggle with the bubonic plague, which was then at its height, he turned his attention from camps of war to camps of segregation. he left india, leaving behind him golden opinions, just before the outbreak of the great frontier rising, and was appointed to a brigade at aldershot. thence we now find him hurried to the soudan--a spare, middle-sized man, of great physical strength and energy, of marked capacity and unquestioned courage, but disturbed by a restless irritation, to which even the most inordinate activity afforded little relief, and which often left him the exhausted victim of his own vitality. by the end of january a powerful force lay encamped along the river from abu hamed to the atbara. meanwhile the dervishes made no forward movement. their army was collected at kerreri; supplies were plentiful; all preparations had been made. yet they tarried. the burning question of the command had arisen. a dispute that was never settled ensued. when the whole army was regularly assembled, the khalifa announced publicly that he would lead the faithful in person; but at the same time he arranged privately that many emirs and notables should beg him not to expose his sacred person. after proper solicitation, therefore, he yielded to their appeals. then he looked round for a subordinate. the khalifa ali-wad-helu presented himself. in the soudan every advantage and honour accrues to the possessor of an army, and the rival chief saw a chance of regaining his lost power. this consideration was not, however, lost upon abdullah. he accepted the offer with apparent delight, but he professed himself unable to spare any rifles for the army which ali-wad-helu aspired to lead. 'alas!' he cried, 'there are none. but that will make no difference to so famous a warrior.' ali-wad-helu, however, considered that it would make a great deal of difference, and declined the command. osman sheikh-ed-din offered to lead the army, if he might arm the riverain tribes and use them as auxiliaries to swell his force. this roused the disapproval of yakub. such a policy, he declared, was fatal. the riverain tribes were traitors--dogs--worthy only of being destroyed; and he enlarged upon the more refined methods by which his policy might be carried out. the squabble continued, until at last the khalifa, despairing of any agreement, decided merely to reinforce mahmud, and accordingly ordered the emir yunes to march to metemma with about , men. but it was then discovered that mahmud hated yunes, and would have none of him. at this the khalifa broke up his camp, and the dervish army marched back for a second time, in vexation and disgust, to the city. it seemed to those who were acquainted with the dervish movements that all offensive operations on their part had been definitely abandoned. even in the intelligence department it was believed that the break-up of the kerreri camp was the end of the khalifa's determination to move north. there would be a hot and uneventful summer, and with the flood nile the expedition would begin its final advance. the news which was received on the th of february came as a great and pleasant surprise. mahmud was crossing the nile and proposed to advance on berber without reinforcements of any kind. the sirdar, highly satisfied at this astounding piece of good fortune, immediately began to mass his force nearer the confluence. on the st the british at abu dis were instructed to hold themselves in readiness. the seaforths began their journey from cairo, and the various battalions of the egyptian army pressed forward towards berber and atbara fort. on the th, mahmud being reported as having crossed to the right bank, the general concentration was ordered. chapter xi: reconnaissance although the story of a campaign is made up of many details which cannot be omitted, since they are essential to the truth as well as the interest of the account, it is of paramount importance that the reader should preserve throughout a general idea. for otherwise the marches, forays, and reconnaissance will seem disconnected and purposeless affairs, and the battle simply a greater operation undertaken in the same haphazard fashion. to appreciate the tale it is less necessary to contemplate the wild scenes and stirring incidents, than thoroughly to understand the logical sequence of incidents which all tend to and ultimately culminate in a decisive trial of strength. the hazards which were courted by the daring occupation of berber have been discussed in the last chapter. from october to december the situation was threatening. in december it suddenly became critical. had the emir mahmud advanced with the dervishes at metemma even as late as the middle of january, he might possibly have re-captured berber. if the great omdurman army had taken the field, the possibility would have become a certainty. the young kordofan general saw his opportunity, and begged to be allowed to seize it. but it was not until the khalifa had sent his own army back into the city that, being very badly informed of the numbers and disposition of the egyptian force, he allowed the metemma dervishes to move. mahmud received permission to advance at the end of january. he eagerly obeyed the longed-for order. but the whole situation was now changed. the egyptian army was concentrated; the british brigade had arrived; the railway had reached geneinetti; the miserable hamlet of dakhila, at the confluence, had grown from a small depot to a fort, and from a fort to an entrenched camp, against which neither dervish science nor strength could by any possibility prevail. perhaps mahmud did not realise the amazing power of movement that the railway had given his foes; perhaps he still believed, with the khalifa, that berber was held only by , egyptians; or else--and this is the most probable--he was reckless of danger and strong in his own conceit. at any rate, during the second week in february he began to transport himself across the nile, with the plain design of an advance north. with all the procrastination of an arab he crawled leisurely forward towards the confluence of the rivers. at el aliab some idea of the strength of the atbara entrenchment seems to have dawned upon him. he paused undecided. a council was held. mahmud was for a continued advance and for making a direct attack on the enemy's position. osman digna urged a more prudent course. many years of hard fighting against disciplined troops had taught the wily hadendoa slaver the power of modern rifles, and much sound tactics besides. he pressed his case with jealous enthusiasm upon the commander he detested and despised. an insurmountable obstacle confronted them. yet what could not be overcome might be avoided. the hardy dervishes could endure privations which would destroy the soldiers of civilisation. barren and inhospitable as was the desert, they might move round the army at the atbara fort and so capture berber after all. once they were behind the egyptians, these accursed ones were lost. the railway--that mysterious source of strength--could be cut. the host that drew its life along it must fight at a fearful disadvantage or perish miserably. besides, he reminded mahmud--not without reason--that they could count on help in berber itself. the agreement of the emirs, called to the council, decided the dervish leader. his confidence in himself was weakened, his hatred of osman digna increased. nevertheless, following the older man's advice, he left aliab on the th of march, and struck north-east into the desert towards the village and ford of hudi on the atbara river. thence by a long desert march he might reach the nile and berber. but while his information of the sirdar's force and movements was uncertain, the british general was better served. what mahmud failed to derive from spies and 'friendlies,' his adversary obtained by gunboats and cavalry. as soon, therefore, as sir h. kitchener learned that the dervishes had left the nile and were making a detour around his left flank, he marched up the atbara river to hudi. this offered mahmud the alternative of attacking him in a strong position or of making a still longer detour. having determined upon caution he chose the latter, and, deflecting his march still more to the east, reached the atbara at nakheila. but from this point the distance to berber was far too great for him to cover. he could not carry enough water in his skins. the wells were few, and held against him. further advance was impossible. so he waited and entrenched himself, sorely troubled, but uncertain what to do. supplies were running short. his magazines at shendi had been destroyed as soon as he had left the nile. the dervishes might exist, but they did not thrive, on the nuts of the dom palms. soldiers began to desert. osman digna, although his advice had been followed, was at open enmity. his army dwindled. and all this time his terrible antagonist watched him as a tiger gloats on a helpless and certain prey--silent, merciless, inexorable. then the end came suddenly. as soon as the process of attrition was sufficiently far advanced to demoralise the dervish host, without completely dissolving them, the sirdar and his army moved. the victim, as if petrified, was powerless to fly. the tiger crept forward two measured strides--from ras-el-hudi to abadar, from abadar to umdabia--crouched for a moment, and then bounded with irresistible fury upon its prey and tore it to pieces. such is a brief strategic account of the atbara campaign; but the tale must be told in full. on the rd of january the khalifa, having learned of the arrival of british troops near abu hamed, and baffled by the disputes about the command of his army, ordered kerreri camp to be broken up, and permitted his forces to return within the city, which he continued to fortify. a few days later he authorised mahmud to advance against berber. what he had not dared with , men he now attempted with , . the course of action which had for three months offered a good hope of success he resolved to pursue only when it led to ruin. he forbade the advance while it was advisable. when it was already become mad and fatal he commanded it. and this was a man whose reputation for intelligence and military skill had been bloodily demonstrated! the gunboats ceaselessly patrolled the river, and exchanged shots with the dervish forts. throughout january nothing of note had happened. the reports of spies showed the khalifa to be at kerreri or in omdurman. ahmed fedil held the shabluka gorge, osman digna was at shendi, and his presence was proved by the construction of two new forts on that side of the river. but beyond this the dervishes had remained passive. on the th of february, however, it was noticed that their small outpost at khulli had been withdrawn. this event seemed to point to a renewal of activity. it was felt that some important movement impended. but it was not until the th that its nature was apparent, and the gunboats were able to report definitely that mahmud was crossing to the east bank of the nile. the flotilla exerted itself to harass the dervishes and impede the transportation; but although several sailing-boats and other river craft were captured, mahmud succeeded in moving his whole army to shendi by the th of february. his own headquarters were established at hosh-ben-naga, a little village about five miles further south. a delay of more than a fortnight followed, during which the gunboats exercised the utmost vigilance. the suakin-berber road was again closed for caravans, and the sirdar himself proceeded to berber. on the th of march the remnants of the jaalin tribe, having collected at gakdul, re-occupied the now abandoned metemma, to find its streets and houses choked with the decaying bodies of their relations. on the th the egyptian look-out station, which had been established on shebaliya island, was attacked by the dervishes, and in the skirmish that ensued major sitwell was wounded. on the same day the enemy were reported moving northwards to aliab, and it became evident that mahmud had begun his advance. he started from shendi with a force which has been estimated at , souls, but which included many women and children, and may have actually numbered , fighting men, each and all supplied with a month's rations and about ninety rounds of ammunition. the sirdar immediately ordered the anglo-egyptian army, with the exception of the cavalry and lewis's egyptian brigade--which, with three squadrons, held the fort at the confluence--to concentrate at kunur. broadwood, with the remaining five squadrons, marched thither on the th; and the whole cavalry force, with the camel corps in support, on the three subsequent days reconnoitred twenty miles up the nile and the atbara. meanwhile the concentration was proceeding apace. the two soudanese brigades, formed into a division under command of major-general hunter, with the artillery, reached kunur on the night of the th. the british brigade--the lincolns, the warwicks, and the camerons--marched thither from dabeika. the seaforth highlanders, who on the th were still at wady halfa, were swiftly railed across the desert to geneinetti. thence the first half-battalion were brought to kunur in steamers. the second wing--since the need was urgent and the steamers few--were jolted across the desert from railhead on camels, an experience for which neither their training nor their clothes had prepared them. by the th the whole force was concentrated at kunur, and on the following day they were reviewed by the sirdar. the first three days at kunur were days of eager expectation. rumour was king. the dervish army had crossed the atbara at hudi, and was within ten miles of the camp. mahmud was already making a flank march through the desert to berber. a battle was imminent. a collision must take place in a few hours. officers with field-glasses scanned the sandy horizon for the first signs of the enemy. but the skyline remained unbroken, except by the wheeling dust devils, and gradually the excitement abated, and the british brigade began to regret all the useful articles they had scrupulously left behind them at dabeika, when they marched in a hurry and the lightest possible order to kunur. on the th of march the gunboats reported that the dervishes were leaving the nile, and mahmud's flanking movement became apparent. the next day the whole force at kunur marched across the desert angle between the rivers to hudi. the appearance of the army would have been formidable. the cavalry, the camel corps, and the horse artillery covered the front and right flank; the infantry, with the british on the right, moved in line of brigade masses; the transport followed. all was, however, shrouded in a fearful dust-storm. the distance, ten miles, was accomplished in five hours, and the army reached hudi in time to construct a strong zeriba before the night. here they were joined from atbara fort by lewis's brigade of egyptians--with the exception of the th battalion, which was left as garrison--and the troops at the sirdar's disposal were thus raised to , men of all arms. this force was organised as follows: commander-in-chief: the sirdar british brigade: major-general gatacre st battalion royal warwickshire regiment ( companies) " " lincolnshire regiment " " seaforth highlanders " " cameron highlanders egyptian infantry division: major-general hunter st brigade nd brigade rd brigade lieut.-col. maxwell lieut.-col. macdonald lieut.-col. lewis th egyptians nd egyptians rd egyptians xiith soudanese ixth soudanese th " xiiith " xth " th " xivth " xith " cavalry: lieut.-col. broadwood squadrons maxim guns camel corps: major tudway companies artillery: lieut.-col. long detachment, no. company, e division r.a., with five-inch b.l. howitzers egyptian horse battery ( guns) nos. , , and field batteries egyptian army ( guns) british maxim battery ( guns) rocket detachment ( sections) mahmud had early intelligence of the movement of the anglo-egyptian army. his original intention had been to march to hudi. but he now learned that at hudi he would have to fight the sirdar's main force. not feeling strong enough to attack them, he determined to march to nakheila. the mobility of the arabs was now as conspicuous as their dilatory nature had formerly been. the whole dervish army--horse, foot, and artillery, men, women, children, and animals--actually traversed in a single day the forty miles of waterless desert which lie between aliab and nakheila, at which latter place they arrived on the night of the th. the sirdar's next object was to keep the enemy so far up the atbara that they could not possibly strike at berber or railhead. accordingly, at dawn on the st, the whole force was ordered to march to ras-el-hudi, five miles nearer the dervishes' supposed halting-place. the detour which the arabs would have to make to march round the troops was nearly doubled by this movement. the utter impossibility of their flank march with a stronger enemy on the radius of the circle was now apparent. the movement of the anglo-egyptian force was screened by seven squadrons of cavalry and the horse artillery, and colonel broadwood was further instructed to reconnoitre along the river and endeavour to locate the enemy. the country on either bank of the atbara is covered with dense scrub, impassable for civilised troops. from these belts, which average a quarter of a mile in depth, the dom palms rise in great numbers. all the bush is leafy, and looks very pretty and green by contrast with the sombre vegetation of the nile. between the trees fly gay parrots and many other bright birds. the river itself above ras-el-hudi is, during march and april, only a dry bed of white sand about yards broad, but dotted with deep and beautifully clear pools, in which peculiarly brilliant fish and crocodiles, deprived of their stream, are crowded together. the atmosphere is more damp than by the nile, and produces, in the terrible heat of the summer, profuse and exhausting perspiration. the natives dislike the water of the atbara, and declare that it does not quench the thirst like that of the great river. it has, indeed, a slightly bitter taste, which is a strong contrast with the sweet waters of the nile. nevertheless the british soldiers, with characteristic contrariness, declared their preference for it. outside the bush the ground undulated gently, but the surface was either stony and uneven or else cracked and fissured by the annual overflow. both these conditions made it hard for cavalry, and still more for artillery, to move freely; and the difficulties were complicated by frequent holes and small khors full of long grass. amid such scenes the squadrons moved cautiously forward. having made the ground good for fifteen miles from hudi, colonel broadwood halted his force at abadar, an old fort, and sent one squadron under captain le gallais seven miles further. at two o'clock this squadron returned, having met a few of the enemy's scouts, but no formed bodies. while the force watered by turns at the river captain baring's squadron was extended in a line of outposts about a mile and a quarter to the south-east. but the reconnoitring squadron had been followed homeward by several hundred dervish horsemen. creeping along through the dense bush by the bank and evading the vedettes, these suddenly fell on the picket line and drove in all the outposts. in this affair eight troopers were killed and seven wounded. thirteen horses were also lost, as, having rid themselves of their riders on the broken ground, they galloped off after the arab mares on which the dervishes were mostly mounted. the news of an attack on adarama was received on this same afternoon. it appeared that the arabs had been repulsed by the abyssinian irregulars raised by colonel parsons. glowing details were forthcoming, but i do not propose to recount the homeric struggles of the 'friendlies.' little in them is worthy of remembrance; much seeks oblivion. for more than a week the anglo-egyptian force remained halted at ras-el-hudi, waiting for privation to demoralise mahmud's army or to exasperate him into making an attack. every morning the cavalry rode out towards the enemy's camp. all day long they skirmished with or watched the baggara horse, and at night they returned wearily to camp. each morning the army awoke full of the hopes of battle, waited during the long hours, and finally retired to sleep in deep disgust and profound peace. and while the army halted, the camp began to assume a more homely appearance. the zeriba grew stronger and thicker, the glacis wider, the field kitchens more elaborate, the pools of the atbara more dirty. over all the sun beat down in merciless persistence, till all white men quivered with weary suffering when in the open air, and even under the grass huts or improvised tents the temperature always registered ° during the hottest hours of the day. the nights were, however, cool and pleasant. but although the main part of the force found the days long and tedious, the time which the army spent at ras-el-hudi was by no means uneventful. the work of the squadrons was hard, and ceased only with the night. the continual patrolling told severely on men and horses; and the fact that the dervishes were far stronger in the mounted arm than the sirdar's army necessitated the utmost vigilance of the cavalry commander. employment was also found for the gunboats. when mahmud had left the nile he had established a sort of depot at shendi, in which the wives of the emirs and the surplus stores had been deposited. this treasure house was protected only by a slender garrison of riflemen and twenty-five horsemen. on ordinary military grounds, and also since the event might infuriate the arabs, it was decided to capture this place and disperse its defenders. accordingly, on the afternoon of the th the rd egyptian battalion from lewis's brigade marched from ras-el-hudi to atbara fort and relieved the th egyptians then in garrison, and a small force under commander keppel--consisting of the th egyptians under major hickman, two field-guns of peake's battery, and jaalin irregulars--was embarked on, or in boats towed by, the three gunboats zafir, naser, and fateh, and started the same night for shendi. at dawn on the th the flotilla appeared off shendi. the dervishes had been apprised of its approach and prepared to offer resistance. but the force against them was overwhelming. under cover of the gunboats the infantry and guns were landed. the artillery then came into action, but after they had discharged two shells, the arabs fled, firing their rifles with little effect. shendi was occupied by the egyptians. the pursuit was left to the jaalin, and in it they are said to have killed men--a revenge which must have been doubly sweet since it was consummated so near to the scene of the destruction of their tribe, and was also attended by scarcely any danger. loot of all kinds fell to the victors, and the gunboats were soon laden with a miscellaneous spoil. the wives of the important emirs made their escape to omdurman, but upwards of women and children of inferior rank were taken prisoners and transported to the atbara, where in due course they contracted new family ties with the soudanese soldiery and, as far as can be ascertained, lived happily ever afterwards. there were no casualties among the troops, but the jaalin lost a few men in their pursuit. the force then returned to the atbara. the rd of april was the last day the army spent at ras-el-hudi. the period of waiting was over. the enemy's position had been duly reconnoitred. his strength was believed to be sufficiently impaired for a successful attack to be made. the camp at hudi was becoming very insanitary. moreover, the situation, satisfactory though it was, was not one which the commander could view without anxiety. all the time that the army was operating on the atbara it drew its supplies from the fort at the confluence. between this and the camp, convoys, protected only by a handful of camel corps, passed once in every four days. only the idiotic apathy of the dervishes allowed the communications to remain uninterrupted. mahmud was strong in cavalry. it will be evident to anyone who looks at the map how easily a force might have moved along the left bank to attack the convoys. such tactics would have occurred to most savage tribes. but in their last campaigns the dervishes thought only of battles, and disregarded all smaller enterprises. had they assailed the communications, the sirdar might have been forced to build a chain of forts and to guard his convoys with strong infantry escorts. the fighting force would have been weakened, the troops have been wearied, and the result must have been delayed. the dervishes had as yet attempted nothing. but there was no reason why they should not at any moment become enterprising. it was time to make an end. on the th of april the whole force moved to abadar, and established themselves in a new camp five miles nearer the enemy. the tiger was tired of watching: he had taken his first stride towards his prey. although the information as to the enemy's strength and position was accurate and complete, the sirdar decided to order a final reconnaissance on the th of april. starting at four o'clock broadwood cut off the sharp angle which the atbara forms at umdabia, and, avoiding the thick bush, soon approached the dervish camp. not a sign of the enemy was seen during the march. the bush by the atbara appeared deserted. the camp gave no sign of life; an ominous silence prevailed. the squadrons moved forward at a walk, keeping about , yards away from the enemy's zeriba and almost parallel to it. presently, as they did so, a large force of cavalry became visible in front. it was difficult to estimate their strength, but they appeared to be superior in numbers to the reconnaissance. the dervish horsemen continued to retire towards the south-east, always reaching round the egyptian left flank. and while the egyptian force advanced, as soon as they were opposite the southern end of the zeriba, another considerable body of dervish horse issued from the northern side and threatened the line of retreat. at the same time the camp began to swarm with men, and crowds of tiny figures were observed clambering on to the entrenchments and gun emplacements, eagerly watching the development of the fight. the cavalry had by this time approached to within , yards of the zeriba, and the arab artillery began to fire occasional round shot and clumsily fused shells. at nine o'clock, the enemy's position having been again sketched and the approaches reconnoitred, colonel broadwood ordered the retirement to begin. the maxims and artillery were in the centre, supported by colonel broadwood and three squadrons. captain baring with three squadrons watched the left flank, now in retirement become the right. captains le gallais and persse guarded the river flank. the cavalry retired by alternate wings in measured fashion. but the enemy pressed on impetuously, and their horsemen, soon completely enveloping the desert flank of the egyptians, began to threaten a charge. to meet this colonel broadwood sent one of his squadrons from the centre to join those under captain baring, so that at about a quarter to ten the reconnoitring force was formed with four squadrons towards the desert, two with the guns, and two towards the river. the weakness of the river flank of the troops encouraged the dervish horse lurking in the scrub to make a bold attempt to capture the guns. the movement was shrewd and daring, but the cavalry commander met it with admirable skill. the springing-up of dust-clouds hardly yards away was his only warning. he immediately took command of the two squadrons under persse and le gallais, and ordered them to 'right about wheel' and charge. thus headed by broadwood himself, and with their british officers several horse-lengths in front, the egyptians broke into a gallop and encountered the baggara line, which numbered not fewer than men but was in loose order, with firmness. they struck them obliquely and perhaps a third of the way down their line, and, breaking through, routed them utterly. while this dashing operation was carried out on the river flank the dervish cavalry, following up the retirement, also delivered an attack towards the guns. thereupon captain baring with two squadrons galloped from the desert flank across the front of the artillery, and, riding through the advancing enemy, repulsed them with loss. the charge was good and effective, but the shock and confusion broke both squadrons, and, although successful, they came through the dervishes and back on to the river flank in some disorder. persse and le gallais, who had just rallied, at once dismounted their men and opened carbine fire on the retreating dervishes. their action not only checked the enemy, but prevented, by getting the troopers off their horses, any chance of their being involved in the disorder of the squadrons who had just charged. although their horsemen were thus sharply checked, the dervish infantry continued in spite of losses to advance rapidly, and for a few minutes a hot musketry fire was exchanged by the arab riflemen and the two dismounted squadrons. captain persse was severely wounded, and several other casualties occurred. but the whole force was drawing away from the enemy, and by eleven o'clock it had passed through the gap to the north-east and had shaken off all pursuit. the casualties in the operation were fortunately small. one british officer was wounded; six egyptian troopers were killed and ten wounded; and about thirty horses were lost or disabled. the details of the enemy's defences were now known; his strength was estimated from trustworthy information. it was evident from the frequent desertions that his army was disheartened, and from his inactivity that he was scarcely hopeful of success. the moment for destroying him had arrived. at daybreak on the morning of the th the whole army broke camp at abadar and marched to the deserted village of umdabia, where they bivouacked close by a convenient pool of the atbara and seven miles nearer the dervish camp. chapter xii: the battle of the atbara april , in the evening of thursday, the th of april, the army at umdabia paraded for the attack on mahmud's zeriba. the camp lay in the scrub which grows by the banks of the atbara, as by those of the nile, and in order to profit by the open, level ground the four infantry brigades moved by parallel routes into the desert, and then formed facing south-east in column of brigade squares, the british brigade leading. the mounted forces, with four batteries of artillery, waited in camp until two o'clock the next morning, and did not break their march. the distance from the river bank to the open plain was perhaps a mile and a half, and the whole infantry force had cleared the scrub by six o'clock. the sun was setting, and the red glow, brightening the sandy hillocks, made the western horizon indefinite, so that it was hard to tell where the desert ended and the sky began. a few gazelle, intercepted on their way to the water by the unexpected movement of troops, trotted slowly away in the distance--white spots on the rosy-brown of the sand--and on the great plain , infantry, conscious of their strength and eager to encounter the enemy, were beautifully arranged in four solid masses. then the march began. the actual distance from the camp to the dervish position was scarcely seven miles, but the circle necessary to avoid the bushes and the gradual bends of the river added perhaps another five to the length of the road. the pace of the advance was slow, and the troops had not gone far when the sun sank and, with hardly an interval of twilight, darkness enveloped everything. in the stillness of the night the brigades moved steadily forward, and only the regular scrunching of the hard sand betrayed the advance of an overwhelming force upon their enemies. no operation of a war is more critical than a night-march. over and over again in every country frightful disaster has overtaken the rash or daring force that has attempted it. in the gloom the shape and aspect of the ground are altered. places well known by daylight appear strange and unrecognisable. the smallest obstacle impedes the column, which can only crawl sluggishly forward with continual checks and halts. the effect of the gloom upon the nerves of the soldiers is not less than on the features of the country. each man tries to walk quietly, and hence all are listening for the slightest sound. every eye seeks to pierce the darkness. every sense in the body is raised to a pitch of expectancy. in such hours doubts and fears come unbidden to the brain, and the marching men wonder anxiously whether all will be well with the army, and whether they themselves will survive the event. and if suddenly out of the black silence there burst the jagged glare of rifles and the crash of a volley followed by the yell of an attacking foe, the steadiest troops may be thrown into confusion, and a panic, once afoot, stops only with the destruction or dispersal of the whole force. nevertheless, so paramount is the necessity of attacking at dawn, with all the day to finish the fight, that in spite of the recorded disasters and the known dangers, the night-march is a frequent operation. for more than two hours the force advanced, moving across smooth swells of sand broken by rocks and with occasional small bushes. several shallow khors traversed the road, and these rocky ditches, filled with a strange, sweet-scented grass, delayed the brigades until the pace was hardly two miles an hour. the smell of the grass was noticed by the alert senses of many, and will for ever refresh in their minds the strong impression of the night. the breeze which had sprung up at sundown gradually freshened and raised clouds of fine sand, which deepened the darkness with a whiter mist. at nine o'clock the army halted in a previously selected space, near the deserted village of mutrus and about two miles from the river. nearly half the distance to mahmud's zeriba was accomplished, and barely four miles in the direct line divided the combatants; but since it was not desirable to arrive before the dawn, the soldiers, still formed in their squares, lay down upon the ground. meat and biscuits were served out to the men. the transport animals went by relays to the pools of the atbara bed to drink and to replenish the tanks. all water-bottles were refilled, pickets being thrown out to cover the business. then, after sufficient sentries had been posted, the army slept, still in array. during the halt the moon had risen, and when at one o'clock the advance was resumed, the white beams revealed a wider prospect and, glinting on the fixed bayonets, crowned the squares with a sinister glitter. for three hours the army toiled onwards at the same slow and interrupted crawl. strict silence was now enforced, and all smoking was forbidden. the cavalry, the camel corps, and the five batteries had overtaken the infantry, so that the whole attacking force was concentrated. meanwhile the dervishes slept. at three o'clock the glare of fires became visible to the south, and, thus arrived before the dervish position, the squares, with the exception of the reserve brigade, were unlocked, and the whole force, assuming formation of attack, now advanced in one long line through the scattered bush and scrub, presently to emerge upon a large plateau which overlooked mahmud's zeriba from a distance of about yards. it was still dark, and the haze that shrouded the dervish camp was broken only by the glare of the watch-fires. the silence was profound. it seemed impossible to believe that more than , men were ready to join battle at scarcely the distance of half a mile. yet the advance had not been unperceived, and the arabs knew that their terrible antagonists crouched on the ridge waiting for the morning; for a while the suspense was prolonged. at last, after what seemed to many an interminable period, the uniform blackness of the horizon was broken by the first glimmer of the dawn. gradually the light grew stronger until, as a theatre curtain is pulled up, the darkness rolled away, the vague outlines in the haze became definite, and the whole scene was revealed. the british and egyptian army lay along the low ridge in the form of a great bow--the british brigade on the left, macdonald in the centre, maxwell curving forward on the right. the whole crest of the swell of ground was crowned with a bristle of bayonets and the tiny figures of thousands of men sitting or lying down and gazing curiously before them. behind them, in a solid square, was the transport, guarded by lewis's brigade. the leading squadrons of the cavalry were forming leisurely towards the left flank. the four batteries and a rocket detachment, moving between the infantry, ranged themselves on two convenient positions about a hundred yards in front of the line of battalions. all was ready. yet everything was very quiet, and in the stillness of the dawn it almost seemed that nature held her breath. half a mile away, at the foot of the ridge, a long irregular black line of thorn bushes enclosed the dervish defences. behind this zeriba low palisades and entrenchments bent back to the scrub by the river. odd shapeless mounds indicated the positions of the gun-emplacements, and various casemates could be seen in the middle of the enclosure. without, the bushes had been cleared away, and the smooth sand stretched in a gentle slope to where the army waited. within were crowds of little straw huts and scattered bushes, growing thicker to the southward. from among this rose the palm-trees, between whose stems the dry bed of the atbara was exposed, and a single pool of water gleamed in the early sunlight. such was mahmud's famous zeriba, which for more than a month had been the predominant thought in the minds of the troops. it was scarcely imposing, and at first the soldiers thought it deserted. only a dozen stray horsemen sat silently on their horses outside the entrenchment, watching their enemies, and inside a few dirty-white figures appeared and disappeared behind the parapets. yet, insignificant as the zeriba looked, the smoke of many fires cooking the morning meal--never to be eaten--showed that it was occupied by men; and gay banners of varied colour and device, flaunting along the entrenchments or within the enclosure, declared that some at least were prepared to die in its defence. the hush of the hour and the suspense of the army were broken by the bang of a gun. everyone on the ridge jumped up and looked towards the sound. a battery of krupps a little to the right of the cameron highlanders had opened fire. another gun further to the right was fired. another shell burst over the straw huts among the palm-trees. the two maxim-nordenfeldt batteries had come into action. the officers looked at their watches. it was a quarter-past six. the bombardment had begun. explosion followed explosion in quick succession until all four batteries were busily engaged. the cannonade grew loud and continuous. the rocket detachment began to fire, and the strange projectiles hissed and screamed as they left the troughs and jerked erratically towards the zeriba. in the air above the enclosure shell after shell flashed into existence, smote the ground with its leaden shower, and dispersed--a mere film--into the haze and smoke which still hung over the dervish encampment. at the very first shot all the dirty-white figures disappeared, bobbing down into their pits and shelters; but a few solitary horsemen remained motionless for a while in the middle of the enclosure, watching the effect of the fire, as if it had no concern with them. the british infantry stood up on tip-toe to look at the wonderful spectacle of actual war, and at first every shell was eagerly scrutinised and its probable effect discussed. but the busy gunners multiplied the projectiles until so many were alive in the air at once that all criticism was prevented. gradually even the strange sight became monotonous. the officers shut up their glasses. the men began to sit down again. many of them actually went to sleep. the rest were soon tired of the amazing scene, the like of which they had never looked on before, and awaited impatiently further developments and 'some new thing.' after the bombardment had lasted about ten minutes a great cloud of dust sprang up in the zeriba, and hundreds of horsemen were seen scrambling into their saddles and galloping through a gap in the rear face out into the open sand to the right. to meet the possibility of an attempt to turn the left flank of the attack, the eight squadrons of cavalry and two maxim guns jingled and clattered off in the direction of the danger. the dust, which the swift passage of so many horsemen raised, shut the scene from the eyes of the infantry, but continual dust-clouds above the scrub to the left and the noise of the maxims seemed to indicate a cavalry fight. the baggara horse, however, declined an unequal combat, and made no serious attempt to interfere with the attack. twice they showed some sort of front, and the squadrons thought they might find opportunity to charge; but a few rounds from the maxims effectually checked the enemy, inflicting on each occasion the loss of about twenty killed and wounded. with the exception of one squadron detached on the right, the egyptian cavalry force, however, remained on the left flank, and shielded the operations of the assaulting infantry. meanwhile the bombardment--no longer watched with curiosity--continued with accuracy and precision. the batteries searched the interior of the zeriba, threshing out one section after another, and working the whole ground regularly from front to rear. the zeriba and palisades were knocked about in many places, and at a quarter to seven a cluster of straw huts caught fire and began to burn briskly. at a quarter-past seven the infantry were ordered to form in column for assault. the plan of the attack for the army was simple. the long, deployed line were to advance steadily against the entrenchments, subduing by their continual fire that of the enemy. they were then to tear the zeriba to pieces. covered by their musketry, the dense columns of assault which had followed the line were to enter the defences through the gaps, deploy to the right, and march through the enclosure, clearing it with the bayonet and by fire. at twenty minutes to eight the sirdar ordered his bugles to sound the general advance. the call was repeated by all the brigades, and the clear notes rang out above the noise of the artillery. the superior officers--with the exception of hunter, maxwell, and macdonald--dismounted and placed themselves at the head of their commands. the whole mass of the infantry, numbering nearly eleven thousand men, immediately began to move forward upon the zeriba. the scene as this great force crested the ridge and advanced down the slope was magnificent and tremendous. large solid columns of men, preceded by a long double line, with the sunlight flashing on their bayonets and displaying their ensigns, marched to the assault in regular and precise array. the pipes of the highlanders, the bands of the soudanese, and the drums and fifes of the english regiments added a wild and thrilling accompaniment. as soon as the advance masked the batteries, the guns were run forward with the firing line, in order effectually to support the attack. the deployed battalions opened a ceaseless and crushing fire on the entrenchment, and as the necessity of firing delayed the advance of the attacking columns, the pace did not exceed a slow march. the dervishes remained silent until the troops were within yards. then the smoke-puffs spurted out all along the stockades, and a sharp fusillade began, gradually and continually growing in intensity until the assaulting troops were exposed to a furious and effective fire. from yards up to the position losses began to occur. the whole entrenchment was rimmed with flame and smoke, amid which the active figures of the dervish riflemen were momentarily visible, and behind the filmy curtain solid masses of swordsmen and spearmen appeared. the fortunate interposition of a small knoll in some degree protected the advance of the lincoln regiment, but in both highland battalions soldiers began to drop. the whole air was full of a strange chirping whistle. the hard pebbly sand was everywhere dashed up into dust-spurts. numerous explosive bullets, fired by the arabs, made queer startling reports. the roar of the rifles drowned even the noise of the artillery. all the deployed battalions began to suffer. but they and the assaulting columns, regardless of the fire, bore down on the zeriba in all the majesty of war--an avalanche of men, stern, unflinching, utterly irresistible. two hundred yards from the entrenchment and one hundred and fifty from the thorn bushes independent firing broke out, running along the line from end to end. shooting continually, but without any hurry or confusion, the british and soudanese battalions continued their slow, remorseless advance; and it was evident that, in spite of the fierce fire of the defence, which was now causing many casualties, the assault would be successful. the loss during the passage of the zeriba and in the assault of the entrenchments was severe. captain findlay and major urquhart, of the cameron highlanders, were both mortally wounded in the fight at the stockades, and expired still cheering on their men. major napier, of the same regiment, and captain baillie, of the seaforth highlanders, received the wounds, of which they subsequently died, a few yards further on. at all points the troops broke into the enclosure. behind the stockade there ran a treble trench. the whole interior was honeycombed with pits and holes. from these there now sprang thousands of dervishes, desperately endeavouring to show a front to the attack. second-lieutenant gore, a young officer fresh from sandburst, was shot dead between the thorn fence and the stockade. other officers in the lincoln and the warwickshire regiments sustained severe wounds. many soldiers were killed and wounded in the narrow space. these losses were general throughout the assaulting brigades. in the five minutes which were occupied in the passage of the obstruction about four hundred casualties occurred. the attack continued. the british brigade had struck the extremity of the north front of the zeriba, and thus took the whole of the eastern face in enfilade, sweeping it with their terrible musketry from end to end, and strewing the ground with corpses. although, owing to the lines of advance having converged, there was not room for more than half the force to deploy, the brigades pushed on. the conduct of the attack passed to the company commanders. all these officers kept their heads, and brought their companies up into the general line as the front gradually widened and gaps appeared. so the whole force--companies, battalions, even brigades--mixed up together and formed in one dense, ragged, but triumphant line, marched on unchecked towards the river bed, driving their enemies in hopeless confusion before them. yet, although the dervishes were unable to make head against the attack, they disdained to run. many hundreds held their ground, firing their rifles valiantly till the end. others charged with spear and sword. the greater part retired in skirmishing order, jumping over the numerous pits, walking across the open spaces, and repeatedly turning round to shoot. the xith soudanese encountered the most severe resistance after the defences were penetrated. as their three deployed companies pressed on through the enclosure, they were confronted by a small inner zeriba stubbornly defended by the emir mahmud's personal bodyguard. these poured a sudden volley into the centre company at close range, and so deadly was the effect that nearly all the company were shot, falling to the ground still in their ranks, so that a british officer passing at a little distance was provoked to inquire 'what they were doing lying down.' notwithstanding this severe check the regiment, gallantly led by their colonel and supported by the xth soudanese, rushed this last defence and slew its last defenders. mahmud was himself captured. having duly inspected his defences and made his dispositions, he had sheltered in a specially constructed casemate. thence he was now ignominiously dragged, and, on his being recognised, the intervention of a british officer alone saved him from the fury of the excited soudanese. still the advance continued, and it seemed to those who took part in it more like a horrible nightmare than a waking reality. captains and subalterns collected whatever men they could, heedless of corps or nationality, and strove to control and direct their fire. jibba-clad figures sprang out of the ground, fired or charged, and were destroyed at every step. and onwards over their bodies--over pits choked with dead and dying, among heaps of mangled camels and donkeys, among decapitated or eviscerated trunks, the ghastly results of the shell fire; women and little children killed by the bombardment or praying in wild terror for mercy; blacks chained in their trenches, slaughtered in their chains--always onwards marched the conquerors, with bayonets running blood; clothes, hands, and faces all besmeared; the foul stench of a month's accumulated filth in their nostrils, and the savage whistle of random bullets in their ears. but at about twenty minutes past eight the whole force, with the seaforth highlanders well forward on the left, arrived at the bank of the atbara, having marched completely through the position, and shot or bayoneted all in their path. hundreds of dervishes were still visible retiring across the dry bed of the river, and making for the scrub on the opposite bank. the leading companies of the seaforth highlanders and lincolns, with such odd parties of camerons as had been carried on with the attack, opened a murderous fire on these fugitives. since they would not run their loss was heavy, and it was a strange sight--the last vivid impression of the day--to watch them struggling through the deep sand, with the dust knocked up into clouds by the bullets which struck all round them. very few escaped, and the bodies of the killed lay thickly dotting the river-bed with heaps of dirty-white. then at . the 'cease fire' sounded, and the battle of the atbara ended. forthwith the battalions began to re-form, and in every company the roll was called. the losses had been severe. in the assault--a period not exceeding half an hour--eighteen british, sixteen native officers and men had been killed or wounded, the greater part during the passage of the zeriba. the actual pursuit was abortive. colonel lewis, with his two battalions, followed a line of advance which led south of the zeriba, and just before reaching the river bank found and fired upon a few dervishes retreating through the scrub. all the cavalry and the camel corps crossed the atbara and plunged into the bush on the further side. but so dense and tangled was the country that after three miles of peril and perplexity they abandoned he attempt, and the routed arabs fled unmolested. the baggara horse had ridden off during the action, headed by the prudent osman digna--whose position in the zeriba was conveniently suited to such a manoeuvre--and under that careful leadership suffered little loss. the rest of the army was, however, destroyed or dispersed. the fugitives fled up the atbara river, leaving many wounded to die in the scrub, all along their line of retreat. of the powerful force of , fighting men which mahmud had gathered at metemma, scarcely , reached gedaret in safety. these survivors were added to the army of ahmed fedil, and thus prevented from spreading their evil tidings among the populace at omdurman. osman digna, wad bishara, and other important emirs whose devotion and discretion were undoubted, alone returned to the capital. as soon as the troops were re-formed, the zeriba was evacuated and the army drew up in line along the neighbouring ridge. it was then only nine o'clock, and the air was still cool and fresh. the soldiers lit fires, made some tea, and ate their rations of biscuits and meat. then they lay down and waited for evening. gradually, as the hours passed, the sun became powerful. there was no shade, and only a few thin, leafless bushes rose from the sand. the hours of a day, peculiarly hot, even for the country and season, dragged wearily away. the sandy ridge beat back the rays till the air above was like the breath of a furnace and the pebbly ground burned. the water in the fantasses and bottles was hot and scarce. the pool of the atbara was foul and tainted. in spite of the devoted efforts of the few medical officers who had been allowed to accompany the force, the wounded officers and soldiers endured the greatest miseries, and it is certain that several died of their wounds who might in happier circumstances have been saved. several hundred prisoners were taken. they were mostly negroes--for the arabs refused to surrender, and fought to the last or tried to escape. the captive blacks, who fight with equal willingness on either side, were content to be enlisted in the soudanese regiments; so that many of those who served the khalifa on the atbara helped to destroy him at omdurman. the most notable prisoner was the emir mahmud--a tall, strong arab, about thirty years old. immediately after his capture he was dragged before the sirdar. 'why,' inquired the general, 'have you come into my country to burn and kill?' 'i have to obey my orders, and so have you,' retorted the captive sullenly, yet not without a certain dignity. to other questions he returned curt or evasive answers, and volunteered the opinion that all this slaughter would be avenged at omdurman. he was removed in custody--a fine specimen of proud brutality, worthy perhaps of some better fate than to linger indefinitely in the gaol at rosetta. with the cool of the evening the army left its bed of torment on the ridge and returned to umdabia. the homeward march was a severe trial; the troops were exhausted; the ground was broken; the guides, less careful or less fortunate than on the previous night, lost their way. the columns were encumbered with wounded, most of whom were already in a high state of fever, and whose sufferings were painful to witness. it was not until after midnight that the camp was reached. the infantry had been continuously under arms--marching, fighting, or sweltering in the sun--for thirty hours, and most of them had hardly closed their eyes for two days. officers and soldiers--british, soudanese, and egyptian--struggled into their bivouacs, and fell asleep, very weary but victorious. british and egyptian casualties on the atbara included officers and men killed or wounded. the dervish loss was officially estimated at emirs and , dervishes killed. no statistics as to their wounded are forthcoming. . . . . . . . . . . as the battle of the atbara had been decisive, the whole expeditionary force went into summer quarters. the egyptian army was distributed into three principal garrisons--four battalions at atbara camp, six battalions and the cavalry at berber, three battalions at abadia. the artillery and transport were proportionately divided. the british brigade encamped with two battalions at darmali and two at the village of selim, about a mile and a half distant. for the final phase of the campaign three new gunboats had been ordered from england. these were now sent in sections over the desert railway. special arrangements were made to admit of the clumsy loads passing trains on the ordinary sidings. as usual, the contrivances of the railway subalterns were attended with success. sir h. kitchener himself proceeded to abadia to accelerate by his personal activity and ingenuity the construction of the vessels on which so much depended. here during the heat of the summer he remained, nursing his gunboats, maturing his plans, and waiting only for the rise of the river to complete the downfall of his foes. chapter xiii: the grand advance all through the early months of the summer the preparations for the final advance were steadily proceeding. a second british brigade was ordered to the soudan. a new battery of howitzer artillery--the th--firing enormous shells charged with lyddite, was despatched from england. two large -pounder guns were sent from cairo. another british maxim battery of four guns was formed in cairo from men of the royal irish fusiliers. three new screw gunboats of the largest size and most formidable pattern had been passed over the indefatigable railway in sections, and were now launched on the clear waterway south of the atbara encampment; and last, but not least, the st lancers [the author led a troop in this regiment during the final advance to omdurman; and it is from this standpoint that the ensuing chapters are to some extent conceived] were ordered up the nile. events now began to move rapidly. within three weeks of the arrival of the reinforcements the climax of the war was over; within five weeks the british troops were returning home. there was no delay at the atbara encampment. even before the whole of the second brigade had arrived, some of its battalions were being despatched to wad hamed, the new point of concentration. this place was a few miles north of shabluka, and only fifty-eight miles from omdurman. it was evident, therefore, that the decisive moment of the three years' war approached. the staff, the british infantry, one squadron, the guns, and the stores were carried south in steamers and barges. the egyptian division marched to wad hamed by brigades. the horses of the batteries, the transport animals of the british division (about , in number), the chargers of the officers, some cattle, and most of the war correspondents were sent along the left bank of the river escorted by two squadrons of the st lancers and two maxim guns. all the thirteen squadrons of cavalry remained three days at wad hamed. after the fatigues of the march we were glad to have an opportunity of looking about, of visiting regiments known in other circumstances, and of writing a few letters. this last was the most important, for it was now known that after leaving wad hamed there would be no post or communication with cairo and europe until the action had been fought and all was over. the halt was welcome for another reason. the camp itself was well worth looking at. it lay lengthways along the river-bank, and was nearly two miles from end to end. the nile secured it from attack towards the east. on the western and southern sides were strong lines of thorn bushes, staked down and forming a zeriba; and the north face was protected by a deep artificial watercourse which allowed the waters of the river to make a considerable inundation. from the bank of this work the whole camp could be seen. far away to the southward the white tents of the british division; a little nearer rows and rows of grass huts and blanket shelters, the bivouacs of the egyptian and soudanese brigades; the sirdar's large white tent, with the red flag of egypt flying from a high staff, on a small eminence; and to the right the grove of palm-trees in which the officers of the egyptian cavalry had established themselves. the whole riverside was filled by a forest of masts. crowds of gyassas, barges, and steamers were moored closely together; and while looking at the furled sails, the tangled riggings, and the tall funnels it was easy for the spectator to imagine that this was the docks of some populous city in a well-developed and civilised land. but the significance of the picture grew when the mind, outstripping the eye, passed beyond the long, low heights of the gorge and cataract of shabluka and contemplated the ruins of khartoum and the city of omdurman. there were known to be at least , fighting men collected in their last stronghold. we might imagine the scene of excitement, rumour, and resolve in the threatened capital. the khalifa declares that he will destroy the impudent invaders. the mahdi has appeared to him in a dream. countless angelic warriors will charge with those of islam. the 'enemies of god' will perish and their bones will whiten the broad plain. loud is the boasting, and many are the oaths which are taken, as to what treatment the infidel dogs shall have when they are come to the city walls. the streets swarm with men and resound with their voices. everywhere is preparation and defiance. and yet over all hangs the dark shadow of fear. nearer and nearer comes this great serpent of an army, moving so slowly and with such terrible deliberation, but always moving. a week ago it was sixty miles away, now it is but fifty. next week only twenty miles will intervene, and then the creep of the serpent will cease, and, without argument or parley, one way or the other the end will come. the road to the next camp was a long one; for though royan island, opposite to which the site had been selected, was only seven miles in the direct line, it was necessary to march eight miles into the desert to avoid the shabluka heights, and then to turn back to the nile. the infantry were therefore provided with camel transport to carry sufficient water in small iron tanks for one night; and they were thus able to bivouac half-way, and to complete the journey on the next morning, thus making a two days' march. the mounted troops, who remained at wad hamed till all had gone south, were ordered to move on the th of august, and by a double march catch up the rest of the army. wad hamed then ceased for the time being to exist except in name. all the stores and transport were moved by land or water to the south of shabluka, and an advanced base was formed upon royan island. communications with the atbara encampment and with cairo were dropped, and the army carried with them in their boats sufficient supplies to last until after the capture of omdurman, when the british division would be immediately sent back. it was calculated that the scope of this operation would not be greater than three weeks, and on the th the army were equipped with twenty-one days' supplies, of which two were carried by the troops, five by the regimental barges, and fourteen in the army transport sailing-vessels. all surplus stores were deposited at royan island, where a field hospital was also formed. the expeditionary force which was thus concentrated, equipped, and supplied for the culminating moment of the river war, was organised as follows: commander-in-chief: the sirdar the british division: major-general gatacre commanding st brigade nd brigade brigadier-gen. wauchope brigadier-gen. lyttelton st btn. royal warwickshire regt. st btn. grenadier guards " " lincoln regiment " " northumberland fusiliers " " seaforth highlanders nd " lancashire fusiliers " " cameron highlanders " " rifle brigade the egyptian division: major-general hunter commanding st brigade nd brigade rd brigade th brigade col. macdonald col. maxwell col. lewis col. collinson nd egyptians th egyptians rd egyptians st egyptians ixth soudanese xiith soudanese th " th (half) " xth " xiiith " th " th " xith " xivth " th " th " mounted forces st lancers camel corps egyptian cavalry colonel martin major tudway colonel broadwood squadrons companies squadrons artillery: colonel long commanding (british) nd field battery, r.a.(with two -pounder guns) guns " th " " " ( -inch howitzers). guns (egyptian) the horse battery, e.a. (krupp). . . guns " no. field battery, e.a. (maxim-nordenfeldt) guns " no. " " " . . . . guns " no. " " " . . . . guns " no. " " " . . . . guns machine guns (british) detachment th co. eastern division r.a.. maxim " " royal irish fusiliers . . " (egyptian) maxim guns to each of the five egyptian batteries . . . . " engineers detachment of royal engineers the flotilla: commander keppel class armoured screw gunboats ( ): the sultan, the melik, the sheikh each carrying: nordenfeldt guns quick-firing -pounder gun howitzer maxims class armoured screw gunboats ( ): the fateh, the naser, the zafir each carrying: quick-firing -pounder gun -pounder guns maxims old class armoured stern-wheel gunboats ( ): the tamai, the hafir*, the abu klea, the metemma each carrying: -pounder gun maxim-nordenfeldt guns steam transport steamers: the dal, the akasha, the tahra, the okma, the kaibar [*the steamer el teb, wrecked at the fourth cataract in , had been refloated, and to change the luck was renamed hafir.] the total strength of the expeditionary force amounted to , british and , egyptian soldiers, with guns and maxims on land, with guns and maxims on the river, and with , horses, mules, , camels, and donkeys, besides followers and private animals. while the army were to move along the west bank of the river--the omdurman side--a force of arab irregulars, formed from the friendly tribes, would march along the east bank and clear it of any dervishes. all the debris which the egyptian advance had broken off the dervish empire was thus to be hurled against that falling state. eager for plunder, anxious to be on the winning side, sheikhs and emirs from every tribe in the military soudan had hurried, with what following the years of war had left them, to wad hamed. on the th of august the force of irregulars numbered about , men, principally jaalin survivors, but also comprising bands and individuals of bisharin; of hadendoa from suakin; of shukria, the camel-breeders; of batahin, who had suffered a bloody diminution at the khalifa's hands; of shaiggia, gordon's vexatious allies; and lastly some gellilab arabs under a reputed son of zubehr pasha. the command of the whole motley force was given to major stuart-wortley, lieutenant wood accompanying him as staff officer; and the position of these officers among the cowed and untrustworthy arabs was one of considerable peril. while the infantry divisions were marching round the heights of shabluka to the camp opposite royan island, the steamers and gunboats ascended the stream and passed through the gorge, dragging up with them the whole fleet of barges and gyassas. the northern end of the narrow passage had been guarded by the five dervish forts, which now stood deserted and dismantled. they were well built, and formed nearly a straight line--four on one bank and one on the other. each fort had three embrasures, and might, when occupied, have been a formidable defence to the cataract. threshing up against the current, the gunboats and stern-wheelers one after another entered the gorge. the nile, which below is nearly a mile across, narrows to a bare yards. the pace of the stream becomes more swift. great swirls and eddies disturb its surface. high on either side rise black, broken, and precipitous cliffs, looking like piles of gigantic stones. through and among them the flood-river pours with a loud roaring, breaking into foam and rapids wherever the submerged rocks are near the surface. between the barren heights and the water is a strip of green bushes and grass. the bright verdant colour seems the more brilliant by contrast with the muddy water and the sombre rocks. it is a forbidding passage. a few hundred riflemen scattered afridiwise among the tops of the hills, a few field-guns in the mud forts by the bank, and the door would be shut. the mounted forces marched from wad hamed at dawn on the th and, striking out into the desert, skirted the rocky hills. besides the st lancers and nine squadrons of egyptian cavalry, the column included the camel corps, strong, and a battery of horse artillery; and it was a fine sight to see all these horsemen and camel-men trotting swiftly across the sand by squadrons and companies, with a great cloud of dust rising from each and drifting away to the northward. the zeriba of the camp at royan had been already made and much of the ground cleared by the energy of the soudanese division, which had been the first to arrive. an advanced depot was established at royan island which was covered with white hospital tents, near which there was a forest of masts and sails. the barges and boats containing the stores and kits awaited the troops, and they had only to bivouac along the river-bank and shelter themselves as quickly as possible from the fierce heat of the sun. the dark hills of shabluka, among and beneath which the camp and army nestled, lay behind us now. to the south the country appeared a level plain covered with bush and only broken by occasional peaks of rock. the eternal nile flowed swiftly by the tents and shelters, and disappeared mysteriously in the gloom of the gorge; and on the further bank there rose a great mountain--jebel royan--from the top of which it was said that men might see khartoum. the whole army broke camp at royan on the th of august at four o'clock in the afternoon, and marched to wady el abid six miles further south. we now moved on a broad front, which could immediately be converted into a fighting formation. this was the first time that it had been possible to see the whole force--infantry, cavalry, and guns--on the march at once. in the clear air the amazing detail of the picture was striking. there were six brigades of infantry, composed of twenty-four battalions; yet every battalion showed that it was made up of tiny figures, all perfectly defined on the plain. a soudanese brigade had been sent on to hold the ground with pickets until the troops had constructed a zeriba. but a single dervish horseman managed to evade these and, just as the light faded, rode up to the warwickshire regiment and flung his broad-bladed spear in token of defiance. so great was the astonishment which this unexpected apparition created that the bold man actually made good his escape uninjured. on the th the forces remained halted opposite um teref, and only the egyptian cavalry went out to reconnoitre. they searched the country for eight or nine miles, and colonel broadwood returned in the afternoon, having found a convenient camping-ground, but nothing else. during the day the news of two river disasters arrived--the first to ourselves, the second to our foes. on the th the gunboat zafir was steaming from the atbara to wad hamed, intending thereafter to ascend the shabluka cataract. suddenly--overtaken now, as on the eve of the advance on dongola, by misfortune--she sprang a leak, and, in spite of every effort to run her ashore, foundered by the head in deep water near metemma. the officers on board--among whom was keppel, the commander of the whole flotilla--had scarcely time to leap from the wreck, and with difficulty made their way to the shore, where they were afterwards found very cold and hungry. the sirdar received the news at royan. his calculations were disturbed by the loss of a powerful vessel; but he had allowed for accidents, and in consequence accepted the misfortune very phlegmatically. the days of struggling warfare were over, and the general knew that he had a safe margin of strength. the other catastrophe afflicted the khalifa, and its tale was brought to the advancing army by the intelligence spies, who to the last--even when the forces were closing--tried to pass between them. not content with building batteries along the banks, abdullah, fearing the gunboats, had resolved to mine the river. an old officer of the old egyptian army, long a prisoner in omdurman, was brought from his chains and ordered to construct mines. two iron boilers were filled with gunpowder, and it was arranged that these should be sunk in the nile at convenient spots. buried in the powder of each was a loaded pistol with a string attached to the trigger. on pulling the string the pistol, and consequently the mine, would be exploded. so the khalifa argued; nor was he wrong. it was resolved to lay one mine first. on the th of august the dervish steamer ismailia moved out into the middle of the nile, carrying one of the boilers fully charged and equipped with pistol detonator. arrived at the selected spot, the great cylinder of powder was dropped over the side. its efficiency as a destructive engine was immediately demonstrated, for, on the string being pulled by accident, the pistol discharged itself, the powder exploded, and the ismailia and all on board were blown to pieces. undeterred by the loss of life, and encouraged by the manifest power of the contrivance, the khalifa immediately ordered the second of the two boilers to be sunk in the stream. as the old egyptian officer had been killed by the explosion, the emir in charge of the arsenal was entrusted with the perilous business. he rose, however, to the occasion, and, having first taken the precaution of letting the water into the boiler so as to damp the powder, he succeeded in laying the second mine in mid-stream, to the joy and delight of abdullah, who, not understanding that it was now useless, overwhelmed him with praise and presents. beguiled with such stories and diversions, the day of rest at wady el abid passed swiftly. night brought beetles, bugs, and ants, and several men were stung by scorpions--a most painful though not dangerous affair. towards morning it began to rain, and everyone was drenched and chilled when the sun rose across the river from behind a great conical hill and dispersed the clouds into wisps of creamy flame. then we mounted and set out. this day the army moved prepared for immediate action, and all the cavalry were thrown out ten miles in front in a great screen which reached from the gunboats on the river to the camel corps far out in the desert. when we had advanced a little further, there arose above the scrub the dark outlines of a rocky peak, the hill of merreh. the whole of the st lancers now concentrated, and, trotting quickly forward, occupied this position, whence a considerable tract of country was visible. we were hardly twenty-five miles from khartoum, and of that distance at least ten miles were displayed. yet there were no enemy. had they all fled? would there be no opposition? should we find omdurman deserted or submissive? these were questions which occurred to everyone, and many answered them affirmatively. colonel martin had meanwhile heliographed back to the sirdar that all the ground was up to this point clear, and that there were no dervishes to be seen. after some delay orders were signalled back for one squadron to remain till sunset in observation on the hill and for the rest to return to camp. with two troops thrown out a mile in front we waited watching on the hill. time passed slowly, for the sun was hot. suddenly it became evident that one of the advanced troops was signalling energetically. the message was spelt out. the officer with the troop perceived dervishes in his front. we looked through our glasses. it was true. there, on a white patch of sand among the bushes of the plain, were a lot of little brown spots, moving slowly across the front of the cavalry outposts towards an egyptian squadron, which was watching far out to the westward. there may have been seventy horsemen altogether. we could not take our eyes off those distant specks we had travelled so far, if possible, to destroy. presently the dervish patrol approached our right troop, and apparently came nearer than they imagined, for the officer who commanded--lieutenant conolly--opened fire on them with carbines, and we saw them turn and ride back, but without hurrying. the camp to which we returned was a very different place from the one we had left in the morning. instead of lying along the river-bank, it was pitched in the thinner scrub. the bushes had on all sides been cut down, the ground cleared, and an immense oblong zeriba was built, around which the six brigades were drawn up, and into which cavalry, guns, and transport were closely packed. very early next morning the advance was continued. the army paraded by starlight, and with the first streak of the dawn the cavalry were again flung far out in advance. secure behind the screen of horsemen and camel corps, the infantry advanced in regular array. up to the th of august the force marched by divisions; but on and after the th of august the whole force commenced to march in fighting formation. the british division was on the left, the egyptian army on the right. all the brigades marched in line, or in a slight echelon. the flank brigades kept their flank battalions in column or in fours. other british battalions had six companies in the front line (in company column of fours) and two companies in support. the egyptian brigades usually marched with three battalions in the front line and one in reserve, each of the three in the front line having four companies in front and two in support. the spectacle of the moving army--the grand army of the nile--as it advanced towards its goal was especially wonderful in the clear air of the early morning; a long row of great brown masses of infantry and artillery, with a fringe of cavalry dotting the plain for miles in front, with the camel corps--chocolate-coloured men on cream-coloured camels--stretching into the desert on the right, and the white gunboats stealing silently up the river on the left, scrutinising the banks with their guns; while far in rear the transport trailed away into the mirage, and far in front the field-glass disclosed the enemy's patrols. day after day and hour after hour the advance was maintained. arrived at the camping-ground, the zeriba had to be built; and this involved a long afternoon of fatigue. in the evening, when the dusty, tired-out squadrons returned, the troopers attended to their horses, and so went to sleep in peace. it was then that the dusty, tired-out infantry provided sentries and pickets, who in a ceaseless succession paced the zeriba and guarded its occupants. the position of the next camp was a strong one, on a high swell of open ground which afforded a clear field of fire in every direction. everyone that night lay down to sleep with a feeling of keen expectancy. one way or the other all doubts would be settled the next day. the cavalry would ride over the kerreri hills, if they were not occupied by the enemy, and right up to the walls of omdurman. if the dervishes had any army--if there was to be any battle--we should know within a few hours. the telegrams which were despatched that evening were the last to reach england before the event. during the night heavy rain fell, and all the country was drenched. the telegraph-wire had been laid along the ground, as there had been no time to pole it. the sand when dry is a sufficient insulator, but when wet its non-conductivity is destroyed. hence all communications ceased, and those at home who had husbands, sons, brothers, or friends in the expeditionary force were left in an uncertainty as great as that in which we slept--and far more painful. the long day had tired everyone. indeed, the whole fortnight since the cavalry convoy had started from the atbara had been a period of great exertion, and the lancers, officers and men, were glad to eat a hasty meal, and forget the fatigues of the day, the hardness of the ground, and the anticipations of the morrow in deep sleep. the camp was watched by the infantry, whose labours did not end with the daylight. at two o'clock in the morning the clouds broke in rain and storm. great blue flashes of lightning lit up the wide expanse of sleeping figures, of crowded animals, and of shelters fluttering in the wind; and from the centre of the camp it was even possible to see for an instant the continuous line of sentries who watched throughout the night with ceaseless vigilance. nor was this all. far away, near the kerreri hills, the yellow light of a burning village shot up, unquenched by the rain, and only invisible in the brightest flashes of the lightning. there was war to the southward. chapter xiv: the operations of the first of september the british and egyptian cavalry, supported by the camel corps and horse artillery, trotted out rapidly, and soon interposed a distance of eight miles between them and the army. as before, the st lancers were on the left nearest the river, and the khedivial squadrons curved backwards in a wide half-moon to protect the right flank. meanwhile the gunboat flotilla was seen to be in motion. the white boats began to ascend the stream leisurely. yet their array was significant. hitherto they had moved at long and indefinite intervals--one following perhaps a mile, or even two miles, behind the other. now a regular distance of about yards was observed. the orders of the cavalry were to reconnoitre omdurman; of the gunboats to bombard it. as soon as the squadrons of the st lancers had turned the shoulder of the steep kerreri hills, we saw in the distance a yellow-brown pointed dome rising above the blurred horizon. it was the mahdi's tomb, standing in the very heart of omdurman. from the high ground the field-glass disclosed rows and rows of mud houses, making a dark patch on the brown of the plain. to the left the river, steel-grey in the morning light, forked into two channels, and on the tongue of land between them the gleam of a white building showed among the trees. before us were the ruins of khartoum and the confluence of the blue and white niles. a black, solitary hill rose between the kerreri position and omdurman. a long, low ridge running from it concealed the ground beyond. for the rest there was a wide-rolling, sandy plain of great extent, surrounded on three sides by rocky hills and ridges, and patched with coarse, starveling grass or occasional bushes. by the banks of the river which framed the picture on the left stood a straggling mud village, and this, though we did not know it, was to be the field of omdurman. it was deserted. not a living creature could be seen. and now there were many who said once and for all that there would be no fight; for here we were arrived at the very walls of omdurman, and never an enemy to bar our path. then, with four squadrons looking very tiny on the broad expanse of ground, we moved steadily forward, and at the same time the egyptian cavalry and the camel corps entered the plain several miles further to the west, and they too began to trot across it. it was about three miles to the last ridge which lay between us and the city. if there was a dervish army, if there was to be a battle, if the khalifa would maintain his boast and accept the arbitrament of war, much must be visible from that ridge. we looked over. at first nothing was apparent except the walls and houses of omdurman and the sandy plain sloping up from the river to distant hills. then four miles away on our right front emerged a long black line with white spots. it was the enemy. it seemed to us, as we looked, that there might be , men behind a high dense zeriba of thorn-bushes. that, said the officers, was better than nothing. it is scarcely necessary to describe our tortuous movements towards the dervish position. looking at it now from one point of view, now from another, but always edging nearer, the cavalry slowly approached, and halted in the plain about three miles away--three great serpents of men--the light-coloured one, the st lancers; a much longer and a blacker one, the egyptian squadrons; a mottled one, the camel corps and horse artillery. from this distance a clearer view was possible, and we distinguished many horsemen riding about the flanks and front of the broad dark line which crowned the crest of the slope. a few of these rode carelessly towards the squadrons to look at them. they were not apparently acquainted with the long range of the lee-metford carbine. several troops were dismounted, and at yards fire was made on them. two were shot and fell to the ground. their companions, dismounting, examined them, picked up one, let the other lie, and resumed their ride, without acknowledging the bullets by even an increase of pace. while this passed, so did the time. it was now nearly eleven o'clock. suddenly the whole black line which seemed to be zeriba began to move. it was made of men, not bushes. behind it other immense masses and lines of men appeared over the crest; and while we watched, amazed by the wonder of the sight, the whole face of the slope became black with swarming savages. four miles from end to end, and, as it seemed, in five great divisions, this mighty army advanced--swiftly. the whole side of the hill seemed to move. between the masses horsemen galloped continually; before them many patrols dotted the plain; above them waved hundreds of banners, and the sun, glinting on many thousand hostile spear-points, spread a sparkling cloud. it is now known that the khalifa had succeeded in concentrating at omdurman an army of more than , men. he remembered that all the former victories over the egyptians had been won by the dervishes attacking. he knew that in all the recent defeats they had stood on the defensive. he therefore determined not to oppose the advance at the shabluka or on the march thence to omdurman. all was to be staked on the issue of a great battle on the plains of kerreri. the mahdi's prophecy was propitious. the strength of the dervish army seemed overwhelming. when the 'turks' arrived, they should be driven into the river. accordingly the khalifa had only watched the advance of the expeditionary force from wad hamed with a patrol of cavalry about strong. on the th he was informed that the enemy drew near, and on the st he assembled his bodyguard and regular army, with the exception of the men needed for the river batteries, on the omdurman parade ground. he harangued the leaders; and remained encamped with his troops during the night. the next day all the male population of the city were compelled to join the army in the field, and only the gunners and garrisons on the river-face remained within. in spite, however, of his utmost vigilance, nearly , men deserted during the nights of the st of august and the st of september. this and the detachments in the forts reduced the force actually engaged in the battle to , men. the host that now advanced towards the british and egyptian cavalry was perhaps , stronger. their array was regular and precise, and, facing northeast, stretched for more than four miles from flank to flank. a strong detachment of the mulazemin or guard was extended in front of the centre. ali-wad-helu, with his bright green flag, prolonged the line to the left; and his , warriors, chiefly of the degheim and kenana tribes, soon began to reach out towards the egyptian cavalry. the centre and main force of the army was composed of the regular troops, formed in squares under osman sheikh-ed-din and osman azrak. this great body comprised , black riflemen and about , black and arab spearmen. in their midst rose the large, dark green flag which the sheikh-ed-din had adopted to annoy ali-wad-helu, of whose distinctive emblem he was inordinately jealous. the khalifa with his own bodyguard, about , strong, followed the centre. in rear of all marched yakub with the black flag and , men--nearly all swordsmen and spearmen, who with those extended in front of the army constituted the guard. the right wing was formed by the brigade of the khalifa sherif, consisting of , danagla tribesmen, whose principal ensign was a broad red flag. osman digna, with about , hadendoa, guarded the extreme right and the flank nearest omdurman, and his fame needed no flag. such was the great army which now moved swiftly towards the watching squadrons; and these, pausing on the sandy ridge, pushed out a fringe of tentative patrols, as if to assure themselves that what they saw was real. the egyptian cavalry had meanwhile a somewhat different view of the spectacle. working on the right of the st lancers, and keeping further from the river, the leading squadrons had reached the extreme western end of the kerreri ridge at about seven o'clock. from here the mahdi's tomb was visible, and, since the rocks of surgham did not obstruct the view from this point, the british officers, looking through their field-glasses, saw what appeared to be a long column of brown spots moving south-westwards across the wide plain which stretches away to the west of omdurman. the telescope, an invaluable aid to reconnaissance, developed the picture. the brown objects proved to be troops of horses grazing; and beyond, to the southward, camels and white flapping tents could be distinguished. there were no signs that a retreat was in progress; but from such a distance--nearly four miles--no certain information could be obtained, and colonel broadwood decided to advance closer. he accordingly led his whole command south-westward towards a round-topped hill which rose about four miles from the end of the kerreri ridge and was one of the more distant hill features bounding the plain on the western side. the egyptian cavalry moved slowly across the desert to this new point of observation. on their way they traversed the end of the khor shambat, a long depression which is the natural drainage channel of the plains of kerreri and omdurman, and joins the nile about four miles from the city. the heavy rain of the previous night had made the low ground swampy, and pools of water stood in the soft, wet sand. the passage, however, presented no great difficulty, and at half-past eleven the egyptian squadrons began to climb the lower slopes of the round-topped hill. here the whole scene burst suddenly upon them. scarcely three miles away the dervish army was advancing with the regularity of parade. the south wind carried the martial sound of horns and drums and--far more menacing--the deep murmur of a multitude to the astonished officers. like the st lancers--three miles away to their left, at the end of the long sandy ridge which runs westward from surgham--the soldiers remained for a space spell-bound. but all eyes were soon drawn from the thrilling spectacle of the dervish advance by the sound of guns on the river. at about eleven o'clock the gunboats had ascended the nile, and now engaged the enemy's batteries on both banks. throughout the day the loud reports of their guns could be heard, and, looking from our position on the ridge, we could see the white vessels steaming slowly forward against the current, under clouds of black smoke from their furnaces and amid other clouds of white smoke from the artillery. the forts, which mounted nearly fifty guns, replied vigorously; but the british aim was accurate and their fire crushing. the embrasures were smashed to bits and many of the dervish guns dismounted. the rifle trenches which flanked the forts were swept by the maxim guns. the heavier projectiles, striking the mud walls of the works and houses, dashed the red dust high into the air and scattered destruction around. despite the tenacity and courage of the dervish gunners, they were driven from their defences and took refuge among the streets of the city. the great wall of omdurman was breached in many places, and a large number of unfortunate non-combatants were killed and wounded. meanwhile the arab irregulars, under major wortley, had been sharply engaged. that officer's orders were to co-operate with the flotilla by taking in rear the forts and fortified villages on the east bank of the river. as soon as the gunboats had silenced the lower forts, major wortley ordered the irregulars to advance on them and on the houses. he placed the jaalin, who were practically the only trustworthy men in his force, in reserve, and formed the tribes according to their capabilities and prejudices. on the order to attack being given, the whole force, some , strong, advanced on the buildings, from which the dervishes at once opened fire. arrived within yards they halted, and began to discharge their rifles in the air; they also indulged in frantic dances expressive of their fury and valour, but declined to advance any further. major wortley then ordered the jaalin to attack. these--formed in a long column, animated by the desire for vengeance, and being besides brave men--moved upon the village at a slow pace, and, surrounding one house after another, captured it and slew all its defenders; including the dervish emir and of his followers. the jaalin themselves suffered a loss of about sixty killed and wounded. the village being captured, and the enemy on the east bank killed or dispersed, the gunboats proceeded to engage the batteries higher up the river. the howitzer battery was now landed, and at . began to bombard the mahdi's tomb. this part of the proceedings was plainly visible to us, waiting and watching on the ridge, and its interest even distracted attention from the dervish army. the dome of the tomb rose tall and prominent above the mud houses of the city. a lyddite shell burst over it--a great flash, a white ball of smoke, and, after a pause, the dull thud of the distant explosion. another followed. at the third shot, instead of the white smoke, there was a prodigious cloud of red dust, in which the whole tomb disappeared. when this cleared away we saw that, instead of being pointed, it was now flat-topped. other shells continued to strike it with like effect, some breaking holes in the dome, others smashing off the cupolas, all enveloping it in dust. all this time the dervishes were coming nearer, and the steady and continuous advance of the great army compelled the egyptian cavalry to mount their horses and trot off to some safer point of view. colonel broadwood conceived his direct line of retreat to camp threatened, and shortly after one o'clock he began a regular retirement. eight squadrons of egyptian cavalry and the horse artillery moved off first. five companies of the camel corps, a maxim gun section, and the ninth squadron of cavalry followed as a rear-guard under major tudway. the dervish horsemen contented themselves with firing occasional shots, which were replied to by the camel corps with volleys whenever the ground was suited to dismounted action. from time to time one of the more daring arabs would gallop after the retreating squadrons, but a shot from a carbine or a threatened advance always brought the adventurous horseman to a halt. the retirement was continued without serious interference, and the boggy ground of the khor shambat was recrossed in safety. as soon as the egyptian squadrons--a darker mass under the dark hills to the westward--were seen to be in retirement, the st lancers were withdrawn slowly along the sandy ridge towards the rocks of surgham--the position whence we had first seen the dervish army. the regiment wheeled about and fell back by alternate wings, dropping two detached troops to the rear and flanks to make the enemy's patrols keep their distance. but when the arab horsemen saw all the cavalry retiring they became very bold, and numerous small groups of fives and sixes began to draw nearer at a trot. accordingly, whenever the ground was favourable, the squadrons halted in turn for a few minutes to fire on them. in this way perhaps half-a-dozen were killed or wounded. the others, however, paid little attention to the bullets, and continued to pry curiously, until at last it was thought necessary to send a troop to drive them away. the score of lancers galloped back towards the inquisitive patrols in the most earnest fashion. the dervishes, although more numerous, were scattered about in small parties, and, being unable to collect, they declined the combat. the great army, however, still advanced majestically, pressing the cavalry back before it; and it was evident that if the khalifa's movement continued, in spite of it being nearly one o'clock, there would be a collision between the main forces before the night. from the summit of the black hill of surgham the scene was extraordinary. the great army of dervishes was dwarfed by the size of the landscape to mere dark smears and smudges on the brown of the plain. looking east, another army was now visible--the british and egyptian army. all six brigades had passed the kerreri hills, and now stood drawn up in a crescent, with their backs to the nile. the transport and the houses of the village of egeiga filled the enclosed space. neither force could see the other, though but five miles divided them. the array of the enemy was, without doubt, both longer and deeper. yet there seemed a superior strength in the solid battalions, whose lines were so straight that they might have been drawn with a ruler. the camp presented an animated appearance. the troops had piled arms after the march, and had already built a slender hedge of thorn-bushes around them. now they were eating their dinners, and in high expectation of a fight. the whole army had been ordered to stand to arms at two o'clock in formation to resist the attack which it seemed the dervishes were about to deliver. but at a quarter to two the dervish army halted. their drill was excellent, and they all stopped as by a single command. then suddenly their riflemen discharged their rifles in the air with a great roar--a barbaric feu de joie. the smoke sprang up along the whole front of their array, running from one end to the other. after this they lay down on the ground, and it became certain that the matter would not be settled that day. we remained in our position among the sandhills of the ridge until the approach of darkness, and during the afternoon various petty encounters took place between our patrols and those of the enemy, resulting in a loss to them of about a dozen killed and wounded, and to us of one corporal wounded and one horse killed. then, as the light failed, we returned to the river to water and encamp, passing into the zeriba through the ranks of the british division, where officers and men, looking out steadfastly over the fading plain, asked us whether the enemy were coming--and, if so, when. and it was with confidence and satisfaction that we replied, and they heard, 'probably at daylight.' when the gunboats had completed their bombardment, had sunk a dervish steamer, had silenced all the hostile batteries, and had sorely battered the mahdi's tomb, they returned leisurely to the camp, and lay moored close to the bank to lend the assistance of their guns in case of attack. as the darkness became complete they threw their powerful searchlights over the front of the zeriba and on to the distant hills. the wheeling beams of dazzling light swept across the desolate, yet not deserted, plain. the dervish army lay for the night along the eastern slope of the shambat depression. all the , faithful warriors rested in their companies near the flags of their emirs. the khalifa slept in rear of the centre of his host, surrounded by his generals. suddenly the whole scene was lit by a pale glare. abdullah and the chiefs sprang up. everything around them was bathed in an awful white illumination. far away by the river there gleamed a brilliant circle of light--the cold, pitiless eye of a demon. the khalifa put his hand on osman azrak's shoulder--osman, who was to lead the frontal attack at dawn--and whispered, 'what is this strange thing?' 'sire,' replied osman, 'they are looking at us.' thereat a great fear filled all their minds. the khalifa had a small tent, which showed conspicuously in the searchlight. he had it hurriedly pulled down. some of the emirs covered their faces, lest the baleful rays should blind them. all feared that some terrible projectile would follow in the path of the light. and then suddenly it passed on--for the sapper who worked the lens could see nothing at that distance but the brown plain--and swept along the ranks of the sleeping army, rousing up the startled warriors, as a wind sweeps over a field of standing corn. the anglo-egyptian army had not formed a quadrilateral camp, as on other nights, but had lain down to rest in the formation for attack they had assumed in the afternoon. every fifty yards behind the thorn-bushes were double sentries. every hundred yards a patrol with an officer was to be met. fifty yards in rear of this line lay the battalions, the men in all their ranks, armed and accoutred, but sprawled into every conceivable attitude which utter weariness could suggest or dictate. the enemy, twice as strong as the expeditionary force, were within five miles. they had advanced that day with confidence and determination. but it seemed impossible to believe that they would attack by daylight across the open ground. two explanations of their advance and halt presented themselves. either they had offered battle in a position where they could not themselves be attacked until four o'clock in the afternoon, and hoped that the sirdar's army, even though victorious, would have to fight a rear-guard action in the darkness to the river; or they intended to make a night attack. it was not likely that an experienced commander would accept battle at so late an hour in the day. if the dervishes were anxious to attack, so much the worse for them. but the army would remain strictly on the defensive--at any rate, until there was plenty of daylight. the alternative remained--a night attack. here lay the great peril which threatened the expedition. what was to be done with the troops during the hours of darkness? in the daytime they recked little of their enemy. but at night, when yards was the extreme range at which their fire could be opened, it was a matter of grave doubt whether the front could be kept and the attack repelled. the consequences of the line being penetrated in the darkness were appalling to think of. the sudden appearance of crowds of figures swarming to the attack through the gloom; the wild outburst of musketry and artillery all along the zeriba; the crowds still coming on in spite of the bullets; the fire getting uncontrolled, and then a great bunching and crumpling of some part of the front, and mad confusion, in which a multitude of fierce swordsmen would surge through the gap, cutting and slashing at every living thing; in which transport animals would stampede and rush wildly in all directions, upsetting every formation and destroying all attempts to restore order; in which regiments and brigades would shift for themselves and fire savagely on all sides, slaying alike friend and foe; and out of which only a few thousand, perhaps only a few hundred, demoralised men would escape in barges and steamers to tell the tale of ruin and defeat. the picture--true or false--flamed before the eyes of all the leaders that night; but, whatever their thoughts may have been, their tactics were bold. whatever advice was given, whatever opinions were expressed, the responsibility was sir herbert kitchener's. upon his shoulders lay the burden, and the decision that was taken must be attributed solely to him. he might have formed the army into a solid mass of men and animals, arranged the infantry four deep all round the perimeter, and dug as big a ditch or built as high a zeriba as time allowed. he might have filled the numerous houses with the infantry, making them join the buildings with hasty entrenchments, and so enclose a little space in which to squeeze cavalry, transport, and guns. instead he formed his army in a long thin curve, resting on the river and enclosing a wide area of ground, about which baggage and animals were scattered in open order and luxurious accommodation. his line was but two deep; and only two companies per battalion and one egyptian brigade (collinson's) were in reserve. he thus obtained the greatest possible development of fire, and waited, prepared if necessary to stake everything on the arms of precision, but hoping with fervour that he would not be compelled to gamble by night. the night was, however, undisturbed; and the moonlit camp, with its anxious generals, its weary soldiers, its fearful machinery of destruction, all strewn along the bank of the great river, remained plunged in silence, as if brooding over the chances of the morrow and the failures of the past. and hardly four miles away another army--twice as numerous, equally confident, equally brave--were waiting impatiently for the morning and the final settlement of the long quarrel. chapter xv: the battle of omdurman september , the bugles all over the camp by the river began to sound at half-past four. the cavalry trumpets and the drums and fifes of the british division joined the chorus, and everyone awoke amid a confusion of merry or defiant notes. then it grew gradually lighter, and the cavalry mounted their horses, the infantry stood to their arms, and the gunners went to their batteries; while the sun, rising over the nile, revealed the wide plain, the dark rocky hills, and the waiting army. it was as if all the preliminaries were settled, the ground cleared, and nothing remained but the final act and 'the rigour of the game.' even before it became light several squadrons of british and egyptian cavalry were pushed swiftly forward to gain contact with the enemy and learn his intentions. the first of these, under captain baring, occupied surgham hill, and waited in the gloom until the whereabouts of the dervishes should be disclosed by the dawn. it was a perilous undertaking, for he might have found them unexpectedly near. as the sun rose, the st lancers trotted out of the zeriba and threw out a spray of officers' patrols. as there had been no night attack, it was expected that the dervish army would have retired to their original position or entered the town. it was hardly conceivable that they would advance across the open ground to attack the zeriba by daylight. indeed, it appeared more probable that their hearts had failed them in the night, and that they had melted away into the desert. but these anticipations were immediately dispelled by the scene which was visible from the crest of the ridge. it was a quarter to six. the light was dim, but growing stronger every minute. there in the plain lay the enemy, their numbers unaltered, their confidence and intentions apparently unshaken. their front was now nearly five miles long, and composed of great masses of men joined together by thinner lines. behind and near to the flanks were large reserves. from the ridge they looked dark blurs and streaks, relieved and diversified with an odd-looking shimmer of light from the spear-points. at about ten minutes to six it was evident that the masses were in motion and advancing swiftly. their emirs galloped about and before their ranks. scouts and patrols scattered themselves all over the front. then they began to cheer. they were still a mile away from the hill, and were concealed from the sirdar's army by the folds of the ground. the noise of the shouting was heard, albeit faintly, by the troops down by the river. but to those watching on the hill a tremendous roar came up in waves of intense sound, like the tumult of the rising wind and sea before a storm. the british and egyptian forces were arranged in line, with their back to the river. the flanks were secured by the gunboats lying moored in the stream. before them was the rolling sandy plain, looking from the slight elevation of the ridge smooth and flat as a table. to the right rose the rocky hills of the kerreri position, near which the egyptian cavalry were drawn up--a dark solid mass of men and horses. on the left the st lancers, with a single squadron thrown out in advance, were halted watching their patrols, who climbed about surgham hill, stretched forward beyond it, or perched, as we did, on the ridge. the ground sloped gently up from the river; so that it seemed as if the landward ends of the surgham and kerreri ridges curved in towards each other, enclosing what lay between. beyond the long swell of sand which formed the western wall of this spacious amphitheatre the black shapes of the distant hills rose in misty confusion. the challengers were already in the arena; their antagonists swiftly approached. although the dervishes were steadily advancing, a belief that their musketry was inferior encouraged a nearer view, and we trotted round the south-west slopes of surgham hill until we reached the sandhills on the enemy's side, among which the regiment had waited the day before. thence the whole array was visible in minute detail. it seemed that every single man of all the thousands could be examined separately. the pace of their march was fast and steady, and it was evident that it would not be safe to wait long among the sandhills. yet the wonder of the scene exercised a dangerous fascination, and for a while we tarried. the emblems of the more famous emirs were easily distinguishable. on the extreme left the chiefs and soldiers of the bright green flag gathered under ali-wad-helu; between this and the centre the large dark green flag of osman sheikh-ed-din rose above a dense mass of spearmen, preceded by long lines of warriors armed presumably with rifles; over the centre, commanded by yakub, the sacred black banner of the khalifa floated high and remarkable; while on the right a great square of dervishes was arrayed under an extraordinary number of white flags, amid which the red ensign of sherif was almost hidden. all the pride and might of the dervish empire were massed on this last great day of its existence. riflemen who had helped to destroy hicks, spearmen who had charged at abu klea, emirs who saw the sack of gondar, baggara fresh from raiding the shillooks, warriors who had besieged khartoum--all marched, inspired by the memories of former triumphs and embittered by the knowledge of late defeats, to chastise the impudent and accursed invaders. the advance continued. the dervish left began to stretch out across the plain towards kerreri--as i thought, to turn our right flank. their centre, under the black flag, moved directly towards surgham. the right pursued a line of advance south of that hill. this mass of men were the most striking of all. they could not have mustered fewer than , . their array was perfect. they displayed a great number of flags--perhaps --which looked at the distance white, though they were really covered with texts from the koran, and which by their admirable alignment made this division of the khalifa's army look like the old representations of the crusaders in the bayeux tapestry. the attack developed. the left, nearly , strong, toiled across the plain and approached the egyptian squadrons. the leading masses of the centre deployed facing the zeriba and marched forthwith to the direct assault. as the whole dervish army continued to advance, the division with the white flags, which had until now been echeloned in rear of their right, moved up into the general line and began to climb the southern slopes of surgham hill. meanwhile yet another body of the enemy, comparatively insignificant in numbers, who had been drawn up behind the 'white flags,' were moving slowly towards the nile, echeloned still further behind their right, and not far from the suburbs of omdurman. these men had evidently been posted to prevent the dervish army being cut off from the city and to secure their line of retreat; and with them the st lancers were destined to have a much closer acquaintance about two hours later. the dervish centre had come within range. but it was not the british and egyptian army that began the battle. if there was one arm in which the arabs were beyond all comparison inferior to their adversaries, it was in guns. yet it was with this arm that they opened their attack. in the middle of the dervish line now marching in frontal assault were two puffs of smoke. about fifty yards short of the thorn fence two red clouds of sand and dust sprang up, where the projectiles had struck. it looked like a challenge. it was immediately answered. great clouds of smoke appeared all along the front of the british and soudanese brigades. one after another four batteries opened on the enemy at a range of about , yards. the sound of the cannonade rolled up to us on the ridge, and was re-echoed by the hills. above the heads of the moving masses shells began to burst, dotting the air with smoke-balls and the ground with bodies. but a nearer tragedy impended. the 'white flags' were nearly over the crest. in another minute they would become visible to the batteries. did they realise what would come to meet them? they were in a dense mass, , yards from the nd field battery and the gunboats. the ranges were known. it was a matter of machinery. the more distant slaughter passed unnoticed, as the mind was fascinated by the approaching horror. in a few seconds swift destruction would rush on these brave men. they topped the crest and drew out into full view of the whole army. their white banners made them conspicuous above all. as they saw the camp of their enemies, they discharged their rifles with a great roar of musketry and quickened their pace. for a moment the white flags advanced in regular order, and the whole division crossed the crest and were exposed. forthwith the gunboats, the nd british field battery, and other guns from the zeriba opened on them. about twenty shells struck them in the first minute. some burst high in the air, others exactly in their faces. others, again, plunged into the sand and, exploding, dashed clouds of red dust, splinters, and bullets amid their ranks. the white banners toppled over in all directions. yet they rose again immediately, as other men pressed forward to die for the mahdi's sacred cause and in the defence of the successor of the true prophet. it was a terrible sight, for as yet they had not hurt us at all, and it seemed an unfair advantage to strike thus cruelly when they could not reply. under the influence of the shells the mass of the 'white flags' dissolved into thin lines of spearmen and skirmishers, and came on in altered formation and diminished numbers, but with unabated enthusiasm. and now, the whole attack being thoroughly exposed, it became the duty of the cavalry to clear the front as quickly as possible, and leave the further conduct of the debate to the infantry and the maxim guns. all the patrols trotted or cantered back to their squadrons, and the regiment retired swiftly into the zeriba, while the shells from the gunboats screamed overhead and the whole length of the position began to burst into flame and smoke. nor was it long before the tremendous banging of the artillery was swollen by the roar of musketry. taking advantage of the shelter of the river-bank, the cavalry dismounted; we watered our horses, waited, and wondered what was happening. and every moment the tumult grew louder and more intense, until even the flickering stutter of the maxims could scarcely be heard above the continuous din. eighty yards away, and perhaps twenty feet above us, the nd field battery was in action. the nimble figures of the gunners darted about as they busied themselves in their complicated process of destruction. the officers, some standing on biscuit-boxes, peered through their glasses and studied the effect. of this i had one glimpse. eight hundred yards away a ragged line of men were coming on desperately, struggling forward in the face of the pitiless fire--white banners tossing and collapsing; white figures subsiding in dozens to the ground; little white puffs from their rifles, larger white puffs spreading in a row all along their front from the bursting shrapnel. the infantry fired steadily and stolidly, without hurry or excitement, for the enemy were far away and the officers careful. besides, the soldiers were interested in the work and took great pains. but presently the mere physical act became tedious. the tiny figures seen over the slide of the backsight seemed a little larger, but also fewer at each successive volley. the rifles grew hot--so hot that they had to be changed for those of the reserve companies. the maxim guns exhausted all the water in their jackets, and several had to be refreshed from the water-bottles of the cameron highlanders before they could go on with their deadly work. the empty cartridge-cases, tinkling to the ground, formed a small but growing heap beside each man. and all the time out on the plain on the other side bullets were shearing through flesh, smashing and splintering bone; blood spouted from terrible wounds; valiant men were struggling on through a hell of whistling metal, exploding shells, and spurting dust--suffering, despairing, dying. such was the first phase of the battle of omdurman. the khalifa's plan of attack appears to have been complex and ingenious. it was, however, based on an extraordinary miscalculation of the power of modern weapons; with the exception of this cardinal error, it is not necessary to criticise it. he first ordered about , men, drawn chiefly from the army of osman sheikh-ed-din and placed under the command of osman azrak, to deliver a frontal attack. he himself waited with an equal force near surgham hill to watch the result. if it succeeded, he would move forward with his bodyguard, the flower of the arab army, and complete the victory. if it failed, there was yet another chance. the dervishes who were first launched against the zeriba, although very brave men, were not by any means his best or most reliable troops. their destruction might be a heavy loss, but it would not end the struggle. while the attack was proceeding, the valiant left, consisting of the rest of the army of osman sheikh-ed-din, might move unnoticed to the northern flank and curve round on to the front of the zeriba held by the egyptian brigade. ali-wad-helu was meanwhile to march to the kerreri hills, and remain out of range and, if possible, out of sight among them. should the frontal and flank attacks be unhappily repulsed, the 'enemies of god,' exulting in their easy victory over the faithful, would leave their strong place and march to the capture and sack of the city. then, while they were yet dispersed on the plain, with no zeriba to protect them, the chosen warriors of the true religion would abandon all concealment, and hasten in their thousands to the utter destruction of the accursed--the khalifa with , falling upon them from behind surgham; ali-wad-helu and all that remained of osman's army assailing them from kerreri. attacked at once from the north and south, and encompassed on every side, the infidels would abandon hope and order, and kitchener might share the fate of hicks and gordon. two circumstances, which will appear as the account proceeds, prevented the accomplishment of this plan. the second attack was not executed simultaneously by the two divisions of the dervish army; and even had it been, the power of the musketry would have triumphed, and though the expeditionary force might have sustained heavier losses the main result could not have been affected. the last hopes of barbarism had passed with the shades of night. colonel broadwood, with nine squadrons of cavalry, the camel corps, and the horse artillery, had been ordered to check the dervish left, and prevent it enveloping the downstream flank of the zeriba, as this was held by the egyptian brigade, which it was not thought desirable to expose to the full weight of an attack. with this object, as the dervishes approached, he had occupied the kerreri ridge with the horse battery and the camel corps, holding his cavalry in reserve in rear of the centre. the kerreri ridge, to which reference has so frequently been made, consists of two main features, which rise to the height of about feet above the plain, are each above a mile long, and run nearly east and west, with a dip or trough about , yards wide between them. the eastern ends of these main ridges are perhaps , yards from the river, and in this intervening space there are several rocky under-features and knolls. the kerreri hills, the spaces between them, and the smaller features are covered with rough boulders and angular stones of volcanic origin, which render the movements of horses and camels difficult and painful. the cavalry horses and camels were in the dip between the two ridges; and the dismounted men of the camel corps were deployed along the crest of the most southerly of the ridges, with their right at the desert end. next in order to the camel corps, the centre of the ridge was occupied by the dismounted cavalry. the horse artillery were on the left. the remainder of the cavalry waited in the hollow behind the guns. the tempestuous advance of osman soon brought him into contact with the mounted force. his real intentions are still a matter of conjecture. whether he had been ordered to attack the egyptian brigade, or to drive back the cavalry, or to disappear behind the kerreri hills in conformity with ali-wad-helu, is impossible to pronounce. his action was, however, clear. he could not safely assail the egyptians with a powerful cavalry force threatening his left rear. he therefore continued his move across the front of the zeriba. keeping out of the range of infantry fire, bringing up his right, and marching along due north, he fell upon broadwood. this officer, who had expected to have to deal with small bodies on the dervish flank, found himself suddenly exposed to the attack of nearly , men, many of whom were riflemen. the sirdar, seeing the situation from the zeriba, sent him an order to withdraw within the lines of infantry. colonel broadwood, however, preferred to retire through the kerreri hills to the northward, drawing osman after him. he replied to that effect. the first position had soon to be abandoned. the dervishes, advancing in a north-easterly direction, attacked the kerreri hills obliquely. they immediately enveloped the right flank of the mounted troops holding them. it will be seen from the map that as soon as the dervish riflemen gained a point west and in prolongation of the trough between the two ridges, they not only turned the right flank, but also threatened the retreat of the defenders of the southerly ridge; for they were able to sweep the trough from end to end with their fire. as soon as it became certain that the southerly ridge could not be held any longer, colonel broadwood retired the battery to the east end of the second or northern ridge. this was scarcely accomplished when the dip was enfiladed, and the cavalry and camel corps who followed lost about fifty men and many horses and camels killed and wounded. the camel corps were the most unfortunate. they were soon encumbered with wounded, and it was now painfully evident that in rocky ground the dervishes could go faster on their feet than the soldiers on their camels. pressing on impetuously at a pace of nearly seven miles an hour, and unchecked by a heavy artillery fire from the zeriba and a less effective fire from the horse battery, which was only armed with -pounder krupps of an obsolete pattern, the arabs rapidly diminished the distance between themselves and their enemies. in these circumstances colonel broadwood decided to send the camel corps back to the zeriba under cover of a gunboat, which, watchfully observing the progress of the fight, was coming down stream to assist. the distance which divided the combatants was scarcely yards and decreasing every minute. the cavalry were drawn up across the eastern or river end of the trough. the guns of the horse battery fired steadily from their new position on the northern ridge. but the camel corps were still struggling in the broken ground, and it was clear that their position was one of great peril. the dervishes already carpeted the rocks of the southern ridge with dull yellow swarms, and, heedless of the shells which still assailed them in reverse from the zeriba, continued to push their attack home. on the very instant that they saw the camel corps make for the river they realised that those they had deemed their prey were trying, like a hunted animal, to run to ground within the lines of infantry. with that instinctive knowledge of war which is the heritage of savage peoples, the whole attack swung to the right, changed direction from north to east, and rushed down the trough and along the southern ridge towards the nile, with the plain intention of cutting off the camel corps and driving them into the river. the moment was critical. it appeared to the cavalry commander that the dervishes would actually succeed, and their success must involve the total destruction of the camel corps. that could not, of course, be tolerated. the whole nine squadrons of cavalry assumed a preparatory formation. the british officers believed that a terrible charge impended. they would meet in direct collision the swarms of men who were hurrying down the trough. the diversion might enable the camel corps to escape. but the ground was bad; the enemy's force was overwhelming; the egyptian troopers were prepared to obey--but that was all. there was no exalted enthusiasm such as at these moments carries sterner breeds to victory. few would return. nevertheless, the operation appeared inevitable. the camel corps were already close to the river. but thousands of dervishes were running swiftly towards them at right angles to their line of retreat, and it was certain that if the camelry attempted to cross this new front of the enemy they would be annihilated. their only hope lay in maintaining themselves by their fire near the river-bank until help could reach them, and, in order to delay and weaken the dervish attack the cavalry would have to make a desperate charge. but at the critical moment the gunboat arrived on the scene and began suddenly to blaze and flame from maxim guns, quick-firing guns, and rifles. the range was short; the effect tremendous. the terrible machine, floating gracefully on the waters--a beautiful white devil--wreathed itself in smoke. the river slopes of the kerreri hills, crowded with the advancing thousands, sprang up into clouds of dust and splinters of rock. the charging dervishes sank down in tangled heaps. the masses in rear paused, irresolute. it was too hot even for them. the approach of another gunboat completed their discomfiture. the camel corps, hurrying along the shore, slipped past the fatal point of interception, and saw safety and the zeriba before them. exasperated by their disappointment, the soldiers of osman sheikh-ed-din turned again upon the cavalry, and, forgetting in their anger the mobile nature of their foe, pursued the elusive squadrons three long miles to the north. the cavalry, intensely relieved by the escape of the camel corps, played with their powerful antagonist, as the banderillo teases the bull. colonel broadwood thus succeeded in luring this division of the dervish army far away from the field of battle, where they were sorely needed. the rough ground, however, delayed the horse battery. they lagged, as the camel corps had done, and caused constant anxiety. at length two of their guns stuck fast in a marshy spot, and as several men and horses were shot in the attempt to extricate them broadwood wisely ordered them to be abandoned, and they were soon engulfed in the dervish masses. encouraged by this capture, the horsemen of osman's command daringly attacked the retreating cavalry. but they were effectually checked by the charge of a squadron under major mahon. both gunboats, having watched the camel corps safely into the zeriba, now returned with the current and renewed their attack upon the arabs. opening a heavy and accurate fire upon the river flank, they drove them westward and away from the nile. through the gap thus opened broadwood and his squadrons trotted to rejoin the main body, picking up on the way the two guns which had been abandoned. while these things were passing on the northern flank, the frontal attack was in progress. the debris of the 'white flags' joined the centre, and the whole , pressed forward against the zeriba, spreading out by degrees and abandoning their dense formations, and gradually slowing down. at about yards from the british division the advance ceased, and they could make no headway. opposite the soudanese, who were armed only with the martini-henry rifle, the assailants came within yards; and one brave old man, carrying a flag, fell at paces from the shelter trench. but the result was conclusive all along the line. the attack was shattered. the leader, clad in his new jibba of many colours, rode on steadfastly towards the inexorable firing line, until, pierced by several bullets, he fell lifeless. such was the end of that stubborn warrior of many fights--wicked osman azrak, faithful unto death. the surviving dervishes lay down on the ground. unable to advance, they were unwilling to retire; and their riflemen, taking advantage of the folds of the plain, opened and maintained an unequal combat. by eight o'clock it was evident that the whole attack had failed. the loss of the enemy was more than , killed, and perhaps as many wounded. to the infantry, who were busy with their rifles, it had scarcely seemed a fight. yet all along the front bullets had whizzed over and into the ranks, and in every battalion there were casualties. captain caldecott, of the warwicks, was killed; the camerons had two officers, captain clarke and lieutenant nicholson, severely wounded; the grenadiers one, captain bagot. colonel f. rhodes, as he sat on his horse near the maxim battery of the st british brigade, was shot through the shoulder and carried from the field just as the attack reached its climax. there were, besides these officers, about casualties among the soldiers. the attack languished. the enemy's rifle fire continued, and as soon as the heavy firing ceased it began to be annoying. the ground, although it appeared flat and level to the eye, nevertheless contained depressions and swellings which afforded good cover to the sharpshooters, and the solid line behind the zeriba was an easy target. the artillery now began to clear out these depressions by their shells, and in this work they displayed a searching power very remarkable when their flat trajectory is remembered. as the shells burst accurately above the dervish skirmishers and spearmen who were taking refuge in the folds of the plain, they rose by hundreds and by fifties to fly. instantly the hungry and attentive maxims and the watchful infantry opened on them, sweeping them all to the ground--some in death, others in terror. again the shells followed them to their new concealment. again they rose, fewer than before, and ran. again the maxims and the rifles spluttered. again they fell. and so on until the front of the zeriba was clear of unwounded men for at least half a mile. a few escaped. some, notwithstanding the vices of which they have been accused and the perils with which they were encompassed, gloriously carried off their injured comrades. after the attack had been broken, and while the front of the zeriba was being cleared of the dervish riflemen, the st lancers were again called upon to act. the sirdar and his generals were all agreed on one point. they must occupy omdurman before the dervish army could get back there. they could fight as many dervishes as cared to come in the plain; among the houses it was different. as the khalifa had anticipated, the infidels, exulting in their victory, were eager, though for a different reason, to seize the city. and this they were now in a position to do. the arabs were out in the desert. a great part of their army was even as far away as kerreri. the troops could move on interior lines. they were bound to reach omdurman first. the order was therefore given to march on the city at once. but first the surgham ridge must be reconnoitred, and the ground between the zeriba and omdurman cleared of the dervishes--with infantry if necessary, but with cavalry if possible, because that would be quicker. as the fusillade slackened, the lancers stood to their horses. then general gatacre, with captain brooke and the rest of his staff, came galloping along the rear of the line of infantry and guns, and shouted for colonel martin. there was a brief conversation--an outstretched arm pointing at the ridge--an order, and we were all scrambling into our saddles and straightening the ranks in high expectation. we started at a trot, two or three patrols galloping out in front, towards the high ground, while the regiment followed in mass--a great square block of ungainly brown figures and little horses, hung all over with water-bottles, saddle-bags, picketing-gear, tins of bully-beef, all jolting and jangling together; the polish of peace gone; soldiers without glitter; horsemen without grace; but still a regiment of light cavalry in active operation against the enemy. the crest of the ridge was only half a mile away. it was found unoccupied. the rocky mass of surgham obstructed the view and concealed the great reserve collected around the black flag. but southward, between us and omdurman, the whole plain was exposed. it was infested with small parties of dervishes, moving about, mounted and on foot, in tens and twenties. three miles away a broad stream of fugitives, of wounded, and of deserters flowed from the khalifa's army to the city. the mirages blurred and distorted the picture, so that some of the routed arabs walked in air and some through water, and all were misty and unreal. but the sight was sufficient to excite the fiercest instincts of cavalry. only the scattered parties in the plain appeared to prevent a glorious pursuit. the signalling officer was set to heliograph back to the sirdar that the ridge was unoccupied and that several thousand dervishes could be seen flying into omdurman. pending the answer, we waited; and looking back northwards, across the front of the zeriba, where the first attack had been stopped, perceived a greyish-white smudge, perhaps a mile long. the glass disclosed details--hundreds of tiny white figures heaped or scattered; dozens hopping, crawling, staggering away; a few horses standing stolidly among the corpses; a few unwounded men dragging off their comrades. the skirmishers among the rocks of surgham soon began to fire at the regiment, and we sheltered among the mounds of sand, while a couple of troops replied with their carbines. then the heliograph in the zeriba began to talk in flashes of light that opened and shut capriciously. the actual order is important. 'advance,' said the helio, 'and clear the left flank, and use every effort to prevent the enemy re-entering omdurman.' that was all, but it was sufficient. in the distance the enemy could be seen re-entering omdurman in hundreds. there was no room for doubt. they must be stopped, and incidentally these small parties in the plain might be brushed away. we remounted; the ground looked smooth and unbroken; yet it was desirable to reconnoitre. two patrols were sent out. the small parties of dervishes who were scattered all over the plain and the slopes of the hill prevented anything less than a squadron moving, except at their peril. the first patrol struck out towards omdurman, and began to push in between the scattered dervishes, who fired their rifles and showed great excitement. the other patrol, under lieutenant grenfell, were sent to see what the ground looked like from further along the ridge and on the lower slopes of surgham. the riflemen among the rocks turned their fire from the regiment to these nearer objects. the five brown figures cantered over the rough ground, presenting difficult targets, but under continual fire, and disappeared round the spur. however, in two or three minutes they re-appeared, the riflemen on the hill making a regular rattle of musketry, amid which the lancers galloped safely back, followed last of all by their officer. he said that the plain looked as safe from the other side of the hill as from where we were. at this moment the other patrol returned. they, too, had had good fortune in their adventurous ride. their information was exact. they reported that in a shallow and apparently practicable khor about three-quarters of a mile to the south-west, and between the regiment and the fugitives, there was drawn up a formed body of dervishes about , strong. colonel martin decided on this information to advance and attack this force, which alone interposed between him and the arab line of retreat. then we started. but all this time the enemy had been busy. at the beginning of the battle the khalifa had posted a small force of men on his extreme right, to prevent his line of retreat to omdurman being harassed. this detachment was composed entirely of the hadendoa tribesmen of osman digna's flag, and was commanded by one of his subordinate emirs, who selected a suitable position in the shallow khor. as soon as the st lancers left the zeriba the dervish scouts on the top of surgham carried the news to the khalifa. it was said that the english cavalry were coming to cut him off from omdurman. abdullah thereupon determined to strengthen his extreme right; and he immediately ordered four regiments, each strong, drawn from the force around the black flag and under the emir ibrahim khalil, to reinforce the hadendoa in the khor. while we were waiting for orders on the ridge these men were hurrying southwards along the depression, and concealed by a spur of surgham hill. the lancer patrol reconnoitred the khor, at the imminent risk of their lives, while it was only occupied by the original hadendoa. galloping back, they reported that it was held by about , men. before they reached the regiment this number was increased to , . this, however, we had no means of knowing. the khalifa, having despatched his reinforcement, rode on his donkey with a scanty escort nearly half a mile from the black flag towards the khor, in order to watch the event, and in consequence he was within yards of the scene. as the st lancers left the ridge, the fire of the arab riflemen on the hill ceased. we advanced at a walk in mass for about yards. the scattered parties of dervishes fell back and melted away, and only one straggling line of men in dark blue waited motionless a quarter of a mile to the left front. they were scarcely a hundred strong. the regiment formed into line of squadron columns, and continued at a walk until within yards of this small body of dervishes. the firing behind the ridges had stopped. there was complete silence, intensified by the recent tumult. far beyond the thin blue row of dervishes the fugitives were visible streaming into omdurman. and should these few devoted men impede a regiment? yet it were wiser to examine their position from the other flank before slipping a squadron at them. the heads of the squadrons wheeled slowly to the left, and the lancers, breaking into a trot, began to cross the dervish front in column of troops. thereupon and with one accord the blue-clad men dropped on their knees, and there burst out a loud, crackling fire of musketry. it was hardly possible to miss such a target at such a range. horses and men fell at once. the only course was plain and welcome to all. the colonel, nearer than his regiment, already saw what lay behind the skirmishers. he ordered, 'right wheel into line' to be sounded. the trumpet jerked out a shrill note, heard faintly above the trampling of the horses and the noise of the rifles. on the instant all the sixteen troops swung round and locked up into a long galloping line, and the st lancers were committed to their first charge in war. two hundred and fifty yards away the dark-blue men were firing madly in a thin film of light-blue smoke. their bullets struck the hard gravel into the air, and the troopers, to shield their faces from the stinging dust, bowed their helmets forward, like the cuirassiers at waterloo. the pace was fast and the distance short. yet, before it was half covered, the whole aspect of the affair changed. a deep crease in the ground--a dry watercourse, a khor--appeared where all had seemed smooth, level plain; and from it there sprang, with the suddenness of a pantomime effect and a high-pitched yell, a dense white mass of men nearly as long as our front and about twelve deep. a score of horsemen and a dozen bright flags rose as if by magic from the earth. eager warriors sprang forward to anticipate the shock. the rest stood firm to meet it. the lancers acknowledged the apparition only by an increase of pace. each man wanted sufficient momentum to drive through such a solid line. the flank troops, seeing that they overlapped, curved inwards like the horns of a moon. but the whole event was a matter of seconds. the riflemen, firing bravely to the last, were swept head over heels into the khor, and jumping down with them, at full gallop and in the closest order, the british squadrons struck the fierce brigade with one loud furious shout. the collision was prodigious. nearly thirty lancers, men and horses, and at least two hundred arabs were overthrown. the shock was stunning to both sides, and for perhaps ten wonderful seconds no man heeded his enemy. terrified horses wedged in the crowd, bruised and shaken men, sprawling in heaps, struggled, dazed and stupid, to their feet, panted, and looked about them. several fallen lancers had even time to re-mount. meanwhile the impetus of the cavalry carried them on. as a rider tears through a bullfinch, the officers forced their way through the press; and as an iron rake might be drawn through a heap of shingle, so the regiment followed. they shattered the dervish array, and, their pace reduced to a walk, scrambled out of the khor on the further side, leaving a score of troopers behind them, and dragging on with the charge more than a thousand arabs. then, and not till then, the killing began; and thereafter each man saw the world along his lance, under his guard, or through the back-sight of his pistol; and each had his own strange tale to tell. stubborn and unshaken infantry hardly ever meet stubborn and unshaken cavalry. either the infantry run away and are cut down in flight, or they keep their heads and destroy nearly all the horsemen by their musketry. on this occasion two living walls had actually crashed together. the dervishes fought manfully. they tried to hamstring the horses, they fired their rifles, pressing the muzzles into the very bodies of their opponents. they cut reins and stirrup-leathers. they flung their throwing-spears with great dexterity. they tried every device of cool, determined men practised in war and familiar with cavalry; and, besides, they swung sharp, heavy swords which bit deep. the hand-to-hand fighting on the further side of the khor lasted for perhaps one minute. then the horses got into their stride again, the pace increased, and the lancers drew out from among their antagonists. within two minutes of the collision every living man was clear of the dervish mass. all who had fallen were cut at with swords till they stopped quivering, but no artistic mutilations were attempted. two hundred yards away the regiment halted, rallied, faced about, and in less than five minutes were re-formed and ready for a second charge. the men were anxious to cut their way back through their enemies. we were alone together--the cavalry regiment and the dervish brigade. the ridge hung like a curtain between us and the army. the general battle was forgotten, as it was unseen. this was a private quarrel. the other might have been a massacre; but here the fight was fair, for we too fought with sword and spear. indeed the advantage of ground and numbers lay with them. all prepared to settle the debate at once and for ever. but some realisation of the cost of our wild ride began to come to those who were responsible. riderless horses galloped across the plain. men, clinging to their saddles, lurched helplessly about, covered with blood from perhaps a dozen wounds. horses, streaming from tremendous gashes, limped and staggered with their riders. in seconds five officers, men, and horses out of fewer than had been killed or wounded. the dervish line, broken by the charge, began to re-form at once. they closed up, shook themselves together, and prepared with constancy and courage for another shock. but on military considerations it was desirable to turn them out of the khor first and thus deprive them of their vantage ground. the regiment again drawn up, three squadrons in line and the fourth in column, now wheeled to the right, and, galloping round the dervish flank, dismounted and opened a heavy fire with their magazine carbines. under the pressure of this fire the enemy changed front to meet the new attack, so that both sides were formed at right angles to their original lines. when the dervish change of front was completed, they began to advance against the dismounted men. but the fire was accurate, and there can be little doubt that the moral effect of the charge had been very great, and that these brave enemies were no longer unshaken. be this as it may, the fact remains that they retreated swiftly, though in good order, towards the ridge of surgham hill, where the khalifa's black flag still waved, and the st lancers remained in possession of the ground--and of their dead. such is the true and literal account of the charge; but the reader may care to consider a few incidents. colonel martin, busy with the direction of his regiment, drew neither sword nor revolver, and rode through the press unarmed and uninjured. major crole wyndham had his horse shot under him by a dervish who pressed the muzzle of his rifle into its hide before firing. from out of the middle of that savage crowd the officer fought his way on foot and escaped in safety. lieutenant molyneux fell in the khor into the midst of the enemy. in the confusion he disentangled himself from his horse, drew his revolver, and jumped out of the hollow before the dervishes recoved from the impact of the charge. then they attacked him. he fired at the nearest, and at the moment of firing was slashed across the right wrist by another. the pistol fell from his nerveless hand, and, being wounded, dismounted, and disarmed, he turned in the hopes of regaining, by following the line of the charge, his squadron, which was just getting clear. hard upon his track came the enemy, eager to make an end. beset on all sides, and thus hotly pursued, the wounded officer perceived a single lancer riding across his path. he called on him for help. whereupon the trooper, private byrne, although already severely wounded by a bullet which had penetrated his right arm, replied without a moment's hesitation and in a cheery voice, 'all right, sir!' and turning, rode at four dervishes who were about to kill his officer. his wound, which had partly paralysed his arm, prevented him from grasping his sword, and at the first ineffectual blow it fell from his hand, and he received another wound from a spear in the chest. but his solitary charge had checked the pursuing dervishes. lieutenant molyneux regained his squadron alive, and the trooper, seeing that his object was attained, galloped away, reeling in his saddle. arrived at his troop, his desperate condition was noticed and he was told to fall out. but this he refused to do, urging that he was entitled to remain on duty and have 'another go at them.' at length he was compelled to leave the field, fainting from loss of blood. lieutenant nesham had an even more extraordinary escape than molyneux. he had scrambled out of the khor when, as his horse was nearly stopping, an arab seized his bridle. he struck at the man with his sword, but did not prevent him cutting his off-rein. the officer's bridle-hand, unexpectedly released, flew out, and, as it did so, a swordsman at a single stroke nearly severed it from his body. then they cut at him from all sides. one blow sheared through his helmet and grazed his head. another inflicted a deep wound in his right leg. a third, intercepted by his shoulder-chains, paralysed his right arm. two more, missing him narrowly, cut right through the cantel of the saddle and into the horse's back. the wounded subaltern--he was the youngest of all--reeled. a man on either side seized his legs to pull him to the ground; but the long spurs stuck into the horse's flanks, and the maddened animal, throwing up its head and springing forward, broke away from the crowd of foes, and carried the rider--bleeding, fainting, but still alive--to safety among the rallying squadrons. lieutenant nesham's experience was that of the men who were killed, only that he escaped to describe it. the wounded were sent with a small escort towards the river and hospitals. an officer was despatched with the news to the sirdar, and on the instant both cannonade and fusillade broke out again behind the ridge, and grew in a crashing crescendo until the whole landscape seemed to vibrate with the sound of explosions. the second phase of the battle had begun. even before the st lancers had reconnoitred surgham ridge, the sirdar had set his brigades in motion towards omdurman. he was determined, even at a very great risk, to occupy the city while it was empty and before the army in the plain could return to defend it. the advantage might be tremendous. nevertheless the movement was premature. the khalifa still remained undefeated west of surgham hill; ali-wad-helu lurked behind kerreri; osman was rapidly re-forming. there were still at least , men on the field. nor, as the event proved, was it possible to enter omdurman until they had been beaten. as soon as the infantry had replenished their ammunition, they wheeled to the left in echelon of brigades, and began to march towards surgham ridge. the movements of a great force are slow. it was not desirable that the british division, which led the echelon, should remain in the low ground north of surgham--where they were commanded, had no field of fire, and could see nothing--and accordingly both these brigades moved forward almost together to occupy the crest of the ridge. thus two steps of the ladder were run into one, and maxwell's brigade, which followed wauchope's, was yards further south than it would have been had the regular echelon been observed. in the zeriba macdonald had been next to maxwell. but a very significant change in the order was now made. general hunter evidently conceived the rear of the echelon threatened from the direction of kerreri. had the earth swallowed all the thousands who had moved across the plain towards the hills? at any rate, he would have his best brigade and his most experienced general in the post of possible danger. he therefore ordered lewis's brigade to follow maxwell, and left macdonald last of all, strengthening him with three batteries of artillery and eight maxim guns. collinson marched with the transport. macdonald moved out westward into the desert to take his place in the echelon, and also to allow lewis to pass him as ordered. lewis hurried on after maxwell, and, taking his distance from him, was thus also yards further south than the regular echelon admitted. the step which had been absorbed when both british brigades moved off--advisedly--together, caused a double gap between macdonald and the rest of the army. and this distance was further increased by the fact that while he was moving west, to assume his place in correct echelon, the other five brigades were drawing off to the southward. hence macdonald's isolation. at . the whole army was marching south in echelon, with the rear brigade at rather more than double distance. collinson had already started with the transport, but the field hospitals still remained in the deserted zeriba, busily packing up. the medical staff had about wounded on their hands. the sirdar's orders had been that these were to be placed on the hospital barges, and that the field hospitals were to follow the transport. but the moving of wounded men is a painful and delicate affair, and by a stupid and grievous mistake the three regular hospital barges, duly prepared for the reception of the wounded, had been towed across to the right bank. it was necessary to use three ammunition barges, which, although in no way arranged for the reception of wounded, were luckily at hand. meanwhile time was passing, and the doctors, who worked with devoted energy, became suddenly aware that, with the exception of a few detachments from the british division and three egyptian companies, there were no troops within half a mile, and none between them and the dark kerreri hills. the two gunboats which could have guarded them from the river were down stream, helping the cavalry; macdonald with the rear brigade was out in the plain; collinson was hurrying along the bank with his transport. they were alone and unprotected. the army and the river together formed a huge "v" pointing south. the northern extremity--the gorge of the redan, as it were--gaped open towards kerreri; and from kerreri there now began to come, like the first warning drops before a storm of rain, small straggling parties of dervish cavalry. the interior of the "v" was soon actually invaded by these predatory patrols, and one troop of perhaps a score of baggara horse watered their ponies within yards of the unprotected hospitals. behind, in the distance, the banners of an army began to re-appear. the situation was alarming. the wounded were bundled on to the barges, although, since there was no steamer to tow them, they were scarcely any safer when embarked. while some of the medical officers were thus busied, colonel sloggett galloped off, and, running the gauntlet of the baggara horsemen, hurried to claim protection for the hospitals and their helpless occupants. in the midst of this excitement and confusion the wounded from the cavalry charge began to trickle in. when the british division had moved out of the zeriba, a few skirmishers among the crags of surgham hill alone suggested the presence of an enemy. each brigade, formed in four parallel columns of route, which closed in until they were scarcely forty paces apart, and both at deploying interval--the second brigade nearer the river, the first almost in line with it and on its right--hurried on, eager to see what lay beyond the ridge. all was quiet, except for a few 'sniping' shots from the top of surgham. but gradually as maxwell's brigade--the third in the echelon--approached the hill, these shots became more numerous, until the summit of the peak was spotted with smoke-puffs. the british division moved on steadily, and, leaving these bold skirmishers to the soudanese, soon reached the crest of the ridge. at once and for the first time the whole panorama of omdurman--the brown and battered dome of the mahdi's tomb, the multitude of mud houses, the glittering fork of water which marked the confluence of the rivers--burst on their vision. for a moment they stared entranced. then their attention was distracted; for trotting, galloping, or halting and gazing stupidly about them, terrified and bewildered, a dozen riderless troop-horses appeared over the further crest--for the ridge was flat-topped--coming from the plain, as yet invisible, below. it was the first news of the lancers' charge. details soon followed in the shape of the wounded, who in twos and threes began to make their way between the battalions, all covered with blood and many displaying most terrible injuries--faces cut to rags, bowels protruding, fishhook spears still stuck in their bodies--realistic pictures from the darker side of war. thus absorbed, the soldiers hardly noticed the growing musketry fire from the peak. but suddenly the bang of a field-gun set all eyes looking backward. a battery had unlimbered in the plain between the zeriba and the ridge, and was beginning to shell the summit of the hill. the report of the guns seemed to be the signal for the whole battle to reopen. from far away to the right rear there came the sound of loud and continuous infantry firing, and immediately gatacre halted his division. almost before the british had topped the crest of the ridge, before the battery had opened from the plain, while colonel sloggett was still spurring across the dangerous ground between the river and the army, the sirdar knew that his enemy was again upon him. looking back from the slopes of surgham, he saw that macdonald, instead of continuing his march in echelon, had halted and deployed. the veteran brigadier had seen the dervish formations on the ridge to the west of surgham, realised that he was about to be attacked, and, resolving to anticipate the enemy, immediately brought his three batteries into action at , yards, five minutes later the whole of the khalifa's reserve, , strong, led by yakub with the black flag, the bodyguard and 'all the glories' of the dervish empire, surged into view from behind the hill and advanced on the solitary brigade with the vigour of the first attack and thrice its chances of success. thereupon sir herbert kitchener ordered maxwell to change front to the right and storm surgham hill. he sent major sandbach to tell lewis to conform and come into line on maxwell's right. he galloped himself to the british division--conveniently halted by general gatacre on the northern crest of the ridge--and ordered lyttelton with the nd brigade to form facing west on maxwell's left south of surgham, and wauchope with the st brigade to hurry back to fill the wide gap between lewis and macdonald. last of all he sent an officer to collinson and the camel corps with orders that they should swing round to their right rear and close the open part of the "v". by these movements the army, instead of facing south in echelon, with its left on the river and its right in the desert, was made to face west in line, with its left in the desert and its right reaching back to the river. it had turned nearly a complete somersault. in obedience to these orders lyttelton's brigade brought up their left shoulders, deployed into line, and advanced west; maxwell's soudanese scrambled up the surgham rocks, and, in spite of a sharp fire, cleared the peak with the bayonet and pressed on down the further side; lewis began to come into action on maxwell's right; macdonald, against whom the khalifa's attack was at first entirely directed, remained facing south-west, and was soon shrouded in the smoke of his own musketry and artillery fire. the three brigades which were now moving west and away from the nile attacked the right flank of the dervishes assailing macdonald, and, compelling them to form front towards the river, undoubtedly took much of the weight of the attack off the isolated brigade. there remained the gap between lewis and macdonald. but wauchope's brigade--still in four parallel columns of route--had shouldered completely round to the north, and was now doubling swiftly across the plain to fill the unguarded space. with the exception of wauchope's brigade and of collinson's egyptians, the whole infantry and artillery force were at once furiously engaged. the firing became again tremendous, and the sound was even louder than during the attack on the zeriba. as each fresh battalion was brought into line the tumult steadily increased. the three leading brigades continued to advance westward in one long line looped up over surgham hill, and with the right battalion held back in column. as the forces gradually drew nearer, the possibility of the dervishes penetrating the gap between lewis and macdonald presented itself, and the flank battalion was wheeled into line so as to protect the right flank. the aspect of the dervish attack was at this moment most formidable. enormous masses of men were hurrying towards the smoke-clouds that almost hid macdonald. other masses turned to meet the attack which was developing on their right. within the angle formed by the three brigades facing west and macdonald facing nearly south a great army of not fewer than , men was enclosed, like a flock of sheep in a fold, by the thin brown lines of the british and egyptian brigades. as the th egyptians, the right battalion of lewis's brigade and nearest the gap between that unit and macdonald, deployed to protect the flank, they became unsteady, began to bunch and waver, and actually made several retrograde movements. there was a moment of danger; but general hunter, who was on the spot, himself ordered the two reserve companies of the th egyptians under major hickman to march up behind them with fixed bayonets. their morale was thus restored and the peril averted. the advance of the three brigades continued. yakub found himself utterly unable to withstand the attack from the river. his own attack on macdonald languished. the musketry was producing terrible losses in his crowded ranks. the valiant wad bishara and many other less famous emirs fell dead. gradually he began to give ground. it was evident that the civilised troops were the stronger. but even before the attack was repulsed, the khalifa, who watched from a close position, must have known that the day was lost; for when he launched yakub at macdonald, it was clear that the only chance of success depended on ali-wad-helu and osman sheikh-ed-din attacking at the same time from kerreri. and with bitter rage and mortification he perceived that, although the banners were now gathering under the kerreri hills, ali and osman were too late, and the attacks which should have been simultaneous would only be consecutive. the effect of broadwood's cavalry action upon the extreme right was now becoming apparent. regrets and fury were alike futile. the three brigades advancing drove the khalifa's dervishes back into the desert. along a mile of front an intense and destructive fire flared and crackled. the nd british field battery on the extreme left was drawn by its hardy mules at full gallop into action. the maxim guns pulsated feverishly. two were even dragged by the enterprise of a subaltern to the very summit of surgham, and from this elevated position intervened with bloody effect. thus the long line moved forward in irresistible strength. in the centre, under the red egyptian flag, careless of the bullets which that conspicuous emblem drew, and which inflicted some loss among those around him, rode the sirdar, stern and sullen, equally unmoved by fear or enthusiasm. a mile away to the rear the gunboats, irritated that the fight was passing beyond their reach, steamed restlessly up and down, like caged polar bears seeking what they might devour. before that terrible line the khalifa's division began to break up. the whole ground was strewn with dead and wounded, among whose bodies the soldiers picked their steps with the customary soudan precautions. surviving thousands struggled away towards omdurman and swelled the broad stream of fugitives upon whose flank the st lancers already hung vengefully. yakub and the defenders of the black flag disdained to fly, and perished where they stood, beneath the holy ensign, so that when their conquerors reached the spot the dark folds of the banner waved only over the dead. while all this was taking place--for events were moving at speed--the st british brigade were still doubling across the rear of maxwell and lewis to fill the gap between the latter and macdonald. as they had wheeled round, the regiments gained on each other according to their proximity to the pivot flank. the brigade assumed a formation which may be described as an echelon of columns of route, with the lincolns, who were actually the pivot regiment, leading. by the time that the right of lewis's brigade was reached and the british had begun to deploy, it was evident that the khalifa's attack was broken and that his force was in full retreat. in the near foreground the arab dead lay thick. crowds of fugitives were trooping off in the distance. the black flag alone waved defiantly over the corpses of its defenders. in the front of the brigade the fight was over. but those who looked away to the right saw a different spectacle. what appeared to be an entirely new army was coming down from the kerreri hills. while the soldiers looked and wondered, fresh orders arrived. a mounted officer galloped up. there was a report that terrible events were happening in the dust and smoke to the northward. the spearmen had closed with macdonald's brigade; were crumpling his line from the flank; had already broken it. such were the rumours. the orders were more precise. the nearest regiment--the lincolnshire--was to hurry to macdonald's threatened flank to meet the attack. the rest of the brigade was to change front half right, and remain in support. the lincolnshires, breathless but elated, forthwith started off again at the double. they began to traverse the rear of macdonald's brigade, dimly conscious of rapid movements by its battalions, and to the sound of tremendous independent firing, which did not, however, prevent them from hearing the venomous hiss of bullets. had the khalifa's attack been simultaneous with that which was now developed, the position of macdonald's brigade must have been almost hopeless. in the actual event it was one of extreme peril. the attack in his front was weakening every minute, but the far more formidable attack on his right rear grew stronger and nearer in inverse ratio. both attacks must be met. the moment was critical; the danger near. all depended on macdonald, and that officer, who by valour and conduct in war had won his way from the rank of a private soldier to the command of a brigade, and will doubtless obtain still higher employment, was equal to the emergency. to meet the khalifa's attack he had arranged his force facing south-west, with three battalions in line and the fourth held back in column of companies in rear of the right flank--an inverted l-shaped formation. as the attack from the south-west gradually weakened and the attack from the north-west continually increased, he broke off his battalions and batteries from the longer side of the l and transferred them to the shorter. he timed these movements so accurately that each face of his brigade was able to exactly sustain the attacks of the enemy. as soon as the khalifa's force began to waver he ordered the xith soudanese and a battery on his left to move across the angle in which the brigade was formed, and deploy along the shorter face to meet the impending onslaught of ali-wad-helu. perceiving this, the ixth soudanese, who were the regiment in column on the right of the original front, wheeled to the right from column into line without waiting for orders, so that two battalions faced towards the khalifa and two towards the fresh attack. by this time it was clear that the khalifa was practically repulsed, and macdonald ordered the xth soudanese and another battery to change front and prolong the line of the ixth and xith. he then moved the nd egyptians diagonally to their right front, so as to close the gap at the angle between their line and that of the three other battalions. these difficult manoeuvres were carried out under a heavy fire, which in twenty minutes caused over casualties in the four battalions--exclusive of the losses in the artillery batteries--and in the face of the determined attacks of an enemy who outnumbered the troops by seven to one and had only to close with them to be victorious. amid the roar of the firing and the dust, smoke, and confusion of the change of front, the general found time to summon the officers of the ixth soudanese around him, rebuked them for having wheeled into line in anticipation of his order, and requested them to drill more steadily in brigade. the three soudanese battalions were now confronted with the whole fury of the dervish attack from kerreri. the bravery of the blacks was no less conspicuous than the wildness of their musketry. they evinced an extraordinary excitement--firing their rifles without any attempt to sight or aim, and only anxious to pull the trigger, re-load, and pull it again. in vain the british officers strove to calm their impulsive soldiers. in vain they called upon them by name, or, taking their rifles from them, adjusted the sights themselves. the independent firing was utterly beyond control. soon the ammunition began to be exhausted, and the soldiers turned round clamouring for more cartridges, which their officers doled out to them by twos and threes in the hopes of steadying them. it was useless. they fired them all off and clamoured for more. meanwhile, although suffering fearfully from the close and accurate fire of the three artillery batteries and eight maxim guns, and to a less extent from the random firing of the soudanese, the dervishes drew nearer in thousands, and it seemed certain that there would be an actual collision. the valiant blacks prepared themselves with delight to meet the shock, notwithstanding the overwhelming numbers of the enemy. scarcely three rounds per man remained throughout the brigade. the batteries opened a rapid fire of case-shot. still the dervishes advanced, and the survivors of their first wave of assault were scarcely yards away. behind them both green flags pressed forward over enormous masses of armed humanity, rolling on as they now believed to victory. at this moment the lincoln regiment began to come up. as soon as the leading company cleared the right of macdonald's brigade, they formed line, and opened an independent fire obliquely across the front of the soudanese. groups of dervishes in twos and threes were then within yards. the great masses were within yards. the independent firing lasted two minutes, during which the whole regiment deployed. its effect was to clear away the leading groups of arabs. the deployment having been accomplished with the loss of a dozen men, including colonel sloggett, who fell shot through the breast while attending to the wounded, section volleys were ordered. with excellent discipline the independent firing was instantly stopped, and the battalion began with machine-like regularity to carry out the principles of modern musketry, for which their training had efficiently prepared them and their rifles were admirably suited. they fired on an average sixty rounds per man, and finally repulsed the attack. the dervishes were weak in cavalry, and had scarcely , horsemen on the field. about of these, mostly the personal retainers of the various emirs, were formed into an irregular regiment and attached to the flag of ali-wad-helu. now when these horsemen perceived that there was no more hope of victory, they arranged themselves in a solid mass and charged the left of macdonald's brigade. the distance was about yards, and, wild as was the firing of the soudanese, it was evident that they could not possibly succeed. nevertheless, many carrying no weapon in their hands, and all urging their horses to their utmost speed, they rode unflinchingly to certain death. all were killed and fell as they entered the zone of fire--three, twenty, fifty, two hundred, sixty, thirty, five and one out beyond them all--a brown smear across the sandy plain. a few riderless horses alone broke through the ranks of the infantry. after the failure of the attack from kerreri the whole anglo-egyptian army advanced westward, in a line of bayonets and artillery nearly two miles long, and drove the dervishes before them into the desert, so that they could by no means rally or reform. the egyptian cavalry, who had returned along the river, formed line on the right of the infantry in readiness to pursue. at half-past eleven sir h. kitchener shut up his glasses, and, remarking that he thought the enemy had been given 'a good dusting,' gave the order for the brigades to resume their interrupted march on omdurman--a movement which was possible, now that the forces in the plain were beaten. the brigadiers thereupon stopped the firing, massed their commands in convenient formations, and turned again towards the south and the city. the lincolnshire regiment remained detached as a rearguard. meanwhile the great dervish army, who had advanced at sunrise in hope and courage, fled in utter rout, pursued by the egyptian cavalry, harried by the st lancers, and leaving more than , warriors dead and even greater numbers wounded behind them. thus ended the battle of omdurman--the most signal triumph ever gained by the arms of science over barbarians. within the space of five hours the strongest and best-armed savage army yet arrayed against a modern european power had been destroyed and dispersed, with hardly any difficulty, comparatively small risk, and insignificant loss to the victors. chapter xvi: the fall of the city now, when the khalifa abdullah saw that the last army that remained to him was broken, that all his attacks had failed, and that thousands of his bravest warriors were slain, he rode from the field of battle in haste, and, regaining the city, proceeded like a brave and stubborn soldier to make preparations for its defence, and, like a prudent man, to arrange for his own flight should further resistance be impossible. he ordered his great war-drum to be beaten and the ombya to be blown, and for the last time those dismal notes boomed through the streets of omdurman. they were not heeded. the arabs had had enough fighting. they recognised that all was lost. besides, to return to the city was difficult and dangerous. the charge of the st lancers had been costly, but it was not ineffective. the consequent retirement of the dervish brigade protecting the extreme right exposed their line of retreat. the cavalry were resolved to take full advantage of the position they had paid so much to gain, and while the second attack was at its height we were already trotting over the plain towards the long lines of fugitives who streamed across it. with the experience of the past hour in our minds, and with the great numbers of the enemy in our front, it seemed to many that a bloody day lay before us. but we had not gone far when individual dervishes began to walk towards the advancing squadrons, throwing down their weapons, holding up their hands, and imploring mercy. as soon as it was apparent that the surrender of individuals was accepted, the dervishes began to come in and lay down their arms--at first by twos and threes, then by dozens, and finally by scores. meanwhile those who were still intent on flight made a wide detour to avoid the cavalry, and streamed past our front at a mile's distance in uninterrupted succession. the disarming and escorting of the prisoners delayed our advance, and many thousands of dervishes escaped from the field. but the position of the cavalry and the pressure they exerted shouldered the routed army out into the desert, so that retiring they missed the city of omdurman altogether, and, disregarding the khalifa's summons to defend it and the orders of their emirs; continued their flight to the south. to harry and annoy the fugitives a few troops were dismounted with carbines, and a constant fire was made on such as did not attempt to come in and surrender. yet the crowds continued to run the gauntlet, and at least , men made good their escape. many of these were still vicious, and replied to our fire with bullets, fortunately at very long range. it would have been madness for lancers to gallop in among such masses, and we had to be content with the results of the carbine fire. while all this had been going on, the advance of the army on omdurman was continuing. nor was it long before we saw the imposing array of infantry topping the sandhills near surgham and flooding out into the plain which lay between them and the city. high over the centre brigade flew the black flag of the khalifa, and underneath a smaller flash of red marked the position of the headquarters staff. the black masses of men continued to move slowly across the open ground while we fired at the flying arabs, and at twelve o'clock we saw them halt near the river about three miles from the city. orders now reached us to join them, and as the sun was hot, the day dragged, all were tired and hungry, and the horses needed water, we were not long in complying, and the remnants of the dervish army made good their retreat unmolested. we marched back to the nile. the whole force had halted to drink, to eat, and to rest at khor shambat. the scene was striking. imagine a six hundred yards stretch of the suez canal. both banks are crowded with brown- or chocolate-clad figures. the northern side is completely covered with the swarming infantry of the british division. thousands of animals--the horses of the cavalry, the artillery mules, the transport camels--fill the spaces and the foreground. multitudes of khaki-clad men are sitting in rows on the slopes. hundreds are standing by the brim or actually in the red muddy water. all are drinking deeply. two or three carcasses, lying in the shallows, show that the soldiers are thirsty rather than particular. on all sides water-bottles are being filled from the welcome nile, which has come into the desert to refresh the weary animals and men. during the attack on macdonald's brigade the egyptian cavalry had watched from their position on the southern slopes of the kerreri hills, ready to intervene, if necessary, and support the infantry by a charge. as soon as the dervish onsets had ended and the whole mass had begun to retreat, broadwood's cavalry brigade formed in two lines, of four and of five squadrons respectively, and advanced in pursuit--first west for two miles, and then south-west for three miles more towards the round-topped hill. like the st lancers, they were delayed by many dcrvishes who threw down their arms and surrendered, and whom it was necessary to escort to the river. but as they drew nearer the mass of the routed army, it became apparent that the spirit of the enemy was by no means broken. stubborn men fired continually as they lay wounded, refusing to ask for quarter--doubting, perhaps, that it would be granted. under every bush that gave protection from the lances of the horsemen little groups collected to make a desperate stand. solitary spearmen awaited unflinching the charge of a whole squadron. men who had feigned death sprang up to fire an unexpected shot. the cavalry began to suffer occasional casualties. in proportion as they advanced the resistance of the enemy increased. the direct pursuit had soon to be abandoned, but in the hope of intercepting some part of the retreating mob major le gallais, who commanded the three leading squadrons, changed direction towards the river, and, galloping nearly parallel to khor shambat, charged and cut into the tail of the enemy's disordered array. the arabs, however, stood their ground, and, firing their rifles wildly in all directions, killed and wounded a good many horses and men, so that the squadrons were content to bring up their right still more, and finally to ride out of the hornet swarm, into which they had plunged, towards surgham hill. the pursuit was then suspended, and the egyptian cavalry joined the rest of the army by the nile. it was not until four o'clock that the cavalry received orders to ride round the outside of the city and harry such as should seek to escape. the egyptian squadrons and the st lancers started forthwith, and, keeping about a mile from the houses of the suburbs, proceeded to make the circle of the town. the infantry had already entered it, as was evident from a continual patter of shots and an occasional rattle of the maxim guns. the leading soudanese brigade--maxwell's--had moved from khor shambat at . , formed in line of company columns and in the following order:-- ^ direction of advance ^ xivth xiith maxims th nd xiiith soudanese soudanese egyptians field battery soudanese the sirdar, attended by his whole staff, with the black flag of the khalifa carried behind him and accompanied by the band of the xith soudanese, rode in front of the xivth battalion. the regiments were soon enveloped by the numberless houses of the suburbs and divided by the twisting streets; but the whole brigade pressed forward on a broad front. behind followed the rest of the army--battalion after battalion, brigade after brigade--until all, swallowed up by the maze of mud houses, were filling the open spaces and blocking and choking the streets and alleys with solid masses of armed men, who marched or pushed their way up to the great wall. for two miles the progress through the suburbs continued, and the general, hurrying on with his staff, soon found himself, with the band, the maxims, and the artillery, at the foot of the great wall. several hundred dervishes had gathered for its defence; but the fact that no banquette had been made on which they could stand to fire prevented their resistance from being effective. a few ill-aimed shots were, however, fired, to which the maxim guns replied with vigour. in a quarter of an hour the wall was cleared. the sirdar then posted two guns of the nd field battery at its northern angle, and then, accompanied by the remaining four guns and the xivth soudanese, turned eastwards and rode along the foot of the wall towards the river, seeking some means of entry into the inner city. the breach made by the gunboats was found temporarily blocked by wooden doors, but the main gate was open, and through this the general passed into the heart of omdurman. within the wall the scenes were more terrible than in the suburbs. the effects of the bombardment were evident on every side. women and children lay frightfully mangled in the roadway. at one place a whole family had been crushed by a projectile. dead dervishes, already in the fierce heat beginning to decompose, dotted the ground. the houses were crammed with wounded. hundreds of decaying carcasses of animals filled the air with a sickening smell. here, as without the wall, the anxious inhabitants renewed their protestations of loyalty and welcome; and interpreters, riding down the narrow alleys, proclaimed the merciful conditions of the conquerors and called on the people to lay down their arms. great piles of surrendered weapons rose in the streets, guarded by soudanese soldiers. many arabs sought clemency; but there were others who disdained it; and the whirring of the maxims, the crashes of the volleys, and a continual dropping fire attested that there was fighting in all parts of the city into which the columns had penetrated. all dervishes who did not immediately surrender were shot or bayoneted, and bullets whistled at random along or across the streets. but while women crowded round his horse, while sullen men filed carefully from houses, while beaten warriors cast their spears on the ground and others, still resisting, were despatched in corners, the sirdar rode steadily onward through the confusion, the stench, and the danger, until he reached the mahdi's tomb. at the mosque two fanatics charged the soudanese escort, and each killed or badly wounded a soldier before he was shot. the day was now far spent, and it was dusk when the prison was reached. the general was the first to enter that foul and gloomy den. charles neufeld and some thirty heavily shackled prisoners were released. neufeld, who was placed on a pony, seemed nearly mad with delight, and talked and gesticulated with queer animation. 'thirteen years,' he said to his rescuer, 'have i waited for this day.' from the prison, as it was now dark, the sirdar rode to the great square in front of the mosque, in which his headquarters were established, and where both british brigades were already bivouacking. the rest of the army settled down along the roadways through the suburbs, and only maxwell's brigade remained in the city to complete the establishment of law and order--a business which was fortunately hidden by the shades of night. while the sirdar with the infantry of the army was taking possession of omdurman, the british and egyptian cavalry had moved round to the west of the city. there for nearly two hours we waited, listening to the dropping fusillade which could be heard within the great wall and wondering what was happening. large numbers of dervishes and arabs, who, laying aside their jibbas, had ceased to be dervishes, appeared among the houses at the edge of the suburbs. several hundreds of these, with two or three emirs, came out to make their submission; and we were presently so loaded with spears and swords that it was impossible to carry them, and many interesting trophies had to be destroyed. it was just getting dark when suddenly colonel slatin galloped up. the khalifa had fled! the egyptian cavalry were at once to pursue him. the st lancers must await further orders. slatin appeared very much in earnest. he talked with animated manner to colonel broadwood, questioned two of the surrendered emirs closely, and hurried off into the dusk, while the egyptian squadrons, mounting, also rode away at a trot. it was not for some hours after he had left the field of battle that abdullah realised that his army had not obeyed his summons, but were continuing their retreat, and that only a few hundred dervishes remained for the defence of the city. he seems, if we judge from the accounts of his personal servant, an abyssinian boy, to have faced the disasters that had overtaken him with singular composure. he rested until two o'clock, when he ate some food. thereafter he repaired to the tomb, and in that ruined shrine, amid the wreckage of the shell-fire, the defeated sovereign appealed to the spirit of mohammed ahmed to help him in his sore distress. it was the last prayer ever offered over the mahdi's grave. the celestial counsels seem to have been in accord with the dictates of common-sense, and at four o'clock the khalifa, hearing that the sirdar was already entering the city, and that the english cavalry were on the parade ground to the west, mounted a small donkey, and, accompanied by his principal wife, a greek nun as a hostage, and a few attendants, rode leisurely off towards the south. eight miles from omdurman a score of swift camels awaited him, and on these he soon reached the main body of his routed army. here he found many disheartened friends; but the fact that, in this evil plight, he found any friends at all must be recorded in his favour and in that of his subjects. when he arrived he had no escort--was, indeed, unarmed. the fugitives had good reason to be savage. their leaders had led them only to their ruin. to cut the throat of this one man who was the cause of all their sufferings was as easy as they would have thought it innocent. yet none assailed him. the tyrant, the oppressor, the scourge of the soudan, the hypocrite, the abominated khalifa; the embodiment, as he has been depicted to european eyes, of all the vices; the object, as he was believed in england, of his people's bitter hatred, found safety and welcome among his flying soldiers. the surviving emirs hurried to his side. many had gone down on the fatal plain. osman azrak, the valiant bishara, yakub, and scores whose strange names have not obscured these pages, but who were, nevertheless, great men of war, lay staring up at the stars. yet those who remained never wavered in their allegiance. ali-wad-helu, whose leg had been shattered by a shell splinter, was senseless with pain; but the sheikh-ed-din, the astute osman digna, ibrahim khalil, who withstood the charge of the st lancers, and others of less note rallied to the side of the appointed successor of mohammed ahmed, and did not, even in this extremity, abandon his cause. and so all hurried on through the gathering darkness, a confused and miserable multitude--dejected warriors still preserving their trashy rifles, and wounded men hobbling pitifully along; camels and donkeys laden with household goods; women crying, panting, dragging little children; all in thousands--nearly , altogether; with little food and less water to sustain them; the desert before them, the gunboats on the nile, and behind the rumours of pursuit and a broad trail of dead and dying to mark the path of flight. meanwhile the egyptian cavalry had already started on their fruitless errand. the squadrons were greatly reduced in numbers. the men carried food to suffice till morning, the horses barely enough to last till noon. to supplement this slender provision a steamer had been ordered up the river to meet them the next day with fresh supplies. the road by the nile was choked with armed dervishes, and to avoid these dangerous fugitives the column struck inland and marched southward towards some hills whose dark outline showed against the sky. the unknown ground was difficult and swampy. at times the horses floundered to their girths in wet sand; at others rocky khors obstructed the march; horses and camels blundered and fell. the darkness complicated the confusion. at about ten o'clock colonel broadwood decided to go no further till there was more light. he therefore drew off the column towards the desert, and halted on a comparatively dry spot. some muddy pools, which were luckily discovered, enabled the bottles to be filled and the horses to be watered. then, having posted many sentries, the exhausted pursuers slept, waking from time to time to listen to the intermittent firing which was still audible, both from the direction of omdurman and from that in which the dervish army was flying. at a.m. on the rd colonel broadwood's force moved on again. men and horses seemed refreshed, and by the aid of a bright moon the ground was covered at a good pace. by seven o'clock the squadrons approached the point on the river which had been fixed for meeting the steamer. she had already arrived, and the sight of the funnel in the distance and the anticipation of a good meal cheered everyone, for they had scarcely had anything to eat since the night before the battle. but as the troopers drew nearer it became evident that yards of shallow water and deep swamp intervened between them and the vessel. closer approach was prevented. there was no means of landing the stores. in the hopes of finding a suitable spot further up the stream the march was resumed. the steamer kept pace along the river. the boggy ground delayed the columns, but by two o'clock seven more miles had been covered. only the flag at the masthead was now visible; and an impassable morass separated the force from the river bank. it was impossible to obtain supplies. without food it was out of the question to go on. indeed, great privations must, as it was, accompany the return march. the necessity was emphasised by the reports of captured fugitives, who all told the same tale. the khalifa had pushed on swiftly, and was trying to reorganise his army. colonel broadwood thereupon rested his horses till the heat of the day was over, and then began the homeward march. it was not until eleven o'clock on the th of september that the worn-out and famished cavalry reached their camp near omdurman. such was the pursuit as conducted by the regular troops. abdel-azim, with arabs, persisted still further in the chase. lightly equipped, and acquainted with the country, they reached shegeig, nearly a hundred miles south of khartoum, on the th. here they obtained definite information. the khalifa had two days' start, plenty of food and water, and many camels. he had organised a bodyguard of jehadia, and was, besides, surrounded by a large force of arabs of various tribes. with this numerous and powerful following he was travelling day and night towards el obeid, which town was held by an unbeaten dervish garrison of nearly , men. on hearing these things the friendly arabs determined--not unwisely--to abandon the pursuit, and came boastfully back to omdurman. in the battle and capture of omdurman the losses of the expeditionary force included the following british officers killed: capt. g. caldecott, st royal warwickshire regiment; lieut. r.g. grenfell, th royal lancers, attached st lancers; hon. h. howard, correspondent of the times. in total, the british division and egyptian army suffered men killed or wounded. the dervish losses were, from computations made on the field and corrected at a later date, ascertained to be , killed, and wounded variously estimated at from , to , . there were, besides, , prisoners. chapter xvii: 'the fashoda incident' the long succession of events, of which i have attempted to give some account, has not hitherto affected to any great extent other countries than those which are drained by the nile. but this chapter demands a wider view, since it must describe an incident which might easily have convulsed europe, and from which far-reaching consequences have arisen. it is unlikely that the world will ever learn the details of the subtle scheme of which the marchand mission was a famous part. we may say with certainty that the french government did not intend a small expedition, at great peril to itself, to seize and hold an obscure swamp on the upper nile. but it is not possible to define the other arrangements. what part the abyssinians were expected to play, what services had been rendered them and what inducements they were offered, what attitude was to be adopted to the khalifa, what use was to be made of the local tribes: all this is veiled in the mystery of intrigue. it is well known that for several years france, at some cost to herself and at a greater cost to italy, had courted the friendship of abyssinia, and that the weapons by which the italians were defeated at adowa had been mainly supplied through french channels. a small quick-firing gun of continental manufacture and of recent make which was found in the possession of the khalifa seems to point to the existence or contemplation of similar relations with the dervishes. but how far these operations were designed to assist the marchand mission is known only to those who initiated them, and to a few others who have so far kept their own counsel. the undisputed facts are few. towards the end of a french expedition was despatched from the atlantic into the heart of africa under the command of major marchand. the re-occupation of dongola was then practically complete, and the british government were earnestly considering the desirability of a further advance. in the beginning of a british expedition, under colonel macdonald, and comprising a dozen carefully selected officers, set out from england to uganda, landed at mombassa, and struck inland. the misfortunes which fell upon this enterprise are beyond the scope of this account, and i shall not dwell upon the local jealousies and disputes which marred it. it is sufficient to observe that colonel macdonald was provided with soudanese troops who were practically in a state of mutiny and actually mutinied two days after he assumed command. the officers were compelled to fight for their lives. several were killed. a year was consumed in suppressing the mutiny and the revolt which arose out of it. if the object of the expedition was to reach the upper nile, it was soon obviously unattainable, and the government were glad to employ the officers in making geographical surveys. at the beginning of it was clear to those who, with the fullest information, directed the foreign policy of great britain that no results affecting the situation in the soudan could be expected from the macdonald expedition. the advance to khartoum and the reconquest of the lost provinces had been irrevocably undertaken. an anglo-egyptian force was already concentrating at berber. lastly, the marchand mission was known to be moving towards the upper nile, and it was a probable contingency that it would arrive at its destination within a few months. it was therefore evident that the line of advance of the powerful army moving south from the mediterranean and of the tiny expedition moving east from the atlantic must intersect before the end of the year, and that intersection would involve a collision between the powers of great britain and france. i do not pretend to any special information not hitherto given to the public in this further matter, but the reader may consider for himself whether the conciliatory policy which lord salisbury pursued towards russia in china at this time--a policy which excited hostile criticism in england--was designed to influence the impending conflict on the upper nile and make it certain, or at least likely, that when great britain and france should be placed in direct opposition, france should find herself alone. with these introductory reflections we may return to the theatre of the war. on the th of september, five days after the battle and capture of omdurman, the tewfikia, a small dervish steamer--one of those formerly used by general gordon--came drifting and paddling down the river. her arab crew soon perceived by the egyptian flags which were hoisted on the principal buildings, and by the battered condition of the mahdi's tomb, that all was not well in the city; and then, drifting a little further, they found themselves surrounded by the white gunboats of the 'turks,' and so incontinently surrendered. the story they told their captors was a strange one. they had left omdurman a month earlier, in company with the steamer safia, carrying a force of men, with the khalifa's orders to go up the white nile and collect grain. for some time all had been well; but on approaching the old government station of fashoda they had been fired on by black troops commanded by white officers under a strange flag--and fired on with such effect that they had lost some forty men killed and wounded. doubting who these formidable enemies might be, the foraging expedition had turned back, and the emir in command, having disembarked and formed a camp at a place on the east bank called reng, had sent the tewfikia back to ask the khalifa for instructions and reinforcements. the story was carried to the sirdar and ran like wildfire through the camp. many officers made their way to the river, where the steamer lay, to test for themselves the truth of the report. the woodwork of the hull was marked with many newly made holes, and cutting into these with their penknives the officers extracted bullets--not the roughly cast leaden balls, the bits of telegraph wire, or old iron which savages use, but the conical nickel-covered bullets of small-bore rifles such as are fired by civilised forces alone. here was positive proof. a european power was on the upper nile: which? some said it was the belgians from the congo; some that an italian expedition had arrived; others thought that the strangers were french; others, again, believed in the foreign office--it was a british expedition, after all. the arab crew were cross-examined as to the flag they had seen. their replies were inconclusive. it had bright colours, they declared; but what those colours were and what their arrangement might be they could not tell; they were poor men, and god was very great. curiosity found no comfort but in patience or speculation. the camp for the most part received the news with a shrug. after their easy victory the soldiers walked delicately. they knew that they belonged to the most powerful force that had ever penetrated the heart of africa. if there was to be more war, the government had but to give the word, and the grand army of the nile would do by these newcomers as they had done by the dervishes. on the th the sirdar started up the white nile for fashoda with five steamers, the xith and xiiith battalions of soudanese, two companies of the cameron highlanders, peake's battery of artillery, and four maxim guns. three days later he arrived at reng, and there found, as the crew of the tewfikia had declared, some dervishes encamped on the bank, and the safia steamer moored to it. these stupid fellows had the temerity to open fire on the vessels. whereat the sultan, steaming towards their dem, replied with a fierce shell fire which soon put them to flight. the safia, being under steam, made some attempt to escape--whither, it is impossible to say--and commander keppel by a well-directed shell in her boilers blew her up, much to the disgust of the sirdar, who wanted to add her to his flotilla. after this incident the expedition continued its progress up the white nile. the sudd which was met with two days' journey south of khartoum did not in this part of the nile offer any obstacle to navigation, as the strong current of the river clears the waterway; but on either side of the channel a belt of the tangled weed, varying from twelve to twelve hundred yards in breadth, very often prevented the steamers from approaching the bank to tie up. the banks themselves depressed the explorers by their melancholy inhospitality. at times the river flowed past miles of long grey grass and swamp-land, inhabited and habitable only by hippopotami. at times a vast expanse of dreary mud flats stretched as far as the eye could see. at others the forest, dense with an impenetrable undergrowth of thorn-bushes, approached the water, and the active forms of monkeys and even of leopards darted among the trees. but the country--whether forest, mud-flat, or prairie--was always damp and feverish: a wet land steaming under a burning sun and humming with mosquitoes and all kinds of insect life. onward and southward toiled the flotilla, splashing the brown water into foam and startling the strange creatures on the banks, until on the th of september they approached fashoda. the gunboats waited, moored to the bank for some hours of the afternoon, to allow a message which had been sent by the sirdar to the mysterious europeans, to precede his arrival, and early in the morning of the th a small steel rowing-boat was observed coming down stream to meet the expedition. it contained a senegalese sergeant and two men, with a letter from major marchand announcing the arrival of the french troops and their formal occupation of the soudan. it, moreover, congratulated the sirdar on his victory, and welcomed him to fashoda in the name of france. a few miles' further progress brought the gunboats to their destination, and they made fast to the bank near the old government buildings of the town. major marchand's party consisted of eight french officers or non-commissioned officers, and black soldiers drawn from the niger district. they possessed three steel boats fitted for sail or oars, and a small steam launch, the faidherbe, which latter had, however, been sent south for reinforcements. they had six months' supplies of provisions for the french officers, and about three months' rations for the men; but they had no artillery, and were in great want of small-arm ammunition. their position was indeed precarious. the little force was stranded, without communications of any sort, and with no means of either withstanding an attack or of making a retreat. they had fired away most of their cartridges at the dervish foraging party, and were daily expecting a renewed attack. indeed, it was with consternation that they had heard of the approach of the flotilla. the natives had carried the news swiftly up the river that the dervishes were coming back with five steamers, and for three nights the french had been sleeplessly awaiting the assault of a powerful enemy. their joy and relief at the arrival of a european force were undisguised. the sirdar and his officers on their part were thrilled with admiration at the wonderful achievements of this small band of heroic men. two years had passed since they left the atlantic coast. for four months they had been absolutely lost from human ken. they had fought with savages; they had struggled with fever; they had climbed mountains and pierced the most gloomy forests. five days and five nights they had stood up to their necks in swamp and water. a fifth of their number had perished; yet at last they had carried out their mission and, arriving at fashoda on the th of july, had planted the tricolour upon the upper nile. moved by such reflections the british officers disembarked. major marchand, with a guard of honour, came to meet the general. they shook hands warmly. 'i congratulate you,' said the sirdar, 'on all you have accomplished.' 'no,' replied the frenchman, pointing to his troops; 'it is not i, but these soldiers who have done it.' and kitchener, telling the story afterwards, remarked, 'then i knew he was a gentleman.' into the diplomatic discussions that followed, it is not necessary to plunge. the sirdar politely ignored the french flag, and, without interfering with the marchand expedition and the fort it occupied, hoisted the british and egyptian colours with all due ceremony, amid musical honours and the salutes of the gunboats. a garrison was established at fashoda, consisting of the xith soudanese, four guns of peake's battery, and two maxims, the whole under the command of colonel jackson, who was appointed military and civil commandant of the fashoda district. at three o'clock on the same afternoon the sirdar and the gunboats resumed their journey to the south, and the next day reached the mouth of the sobat, sixty-two miles from fashoda. here other flags were hoisted and another post formed with a garrison of half the xiiith soudanese battalion and the remaining two guns of peake's battery. the expedition then turned northwards, leaving two gunboats--the sultan and the abu klea--at the disposal of colonel jackson. i do not attempt to describe the international negotiations and discussions that followed the receipt of the news in europe, but it is pleasing to remember that a great crisis found england united. the determination of the government was approved by the loyalty of the opposition, supported by the calm resolve of the people, and armed with the efficiency of the fleet. at first indeed, while the sirdar was still steaming southward, wonder and suspense filled all minds; but when suspense ended in the certainty that eight french adventurers were in occupation of fashoda and claimed a territory twice as large as france, it gave place to a deep and bitter anger. there is no power in europe which the average englishman regards with less animosity than france. nevertheless, on this matter all were agreed. they should go. they should evacuate fashoda, or else all the might, majesty, dominion, and power of everything that could by any stretch of the imagination be called 'british' should be employed to make them go. those who find it difficult to account for the hot, almost petulant, flush of resolve that stirred the nation must look back over the long history of the soudan drama. it had always been a duty to reconquer the abandoned territory. when it was found that this might be safely done, the duty became a pleasure. the operations were watched with extravagant attention, and while they progressed the earnestness of the nation increased. as the tides of barbarism were gradually driven back, the old sea-marks came one after another into view. names of towns that were half forgotten--or remembered only with sadness--re-appeared on the posters, in the gazettes, and in the newspapers. we were going back. 'dongola,' 'berber,' 'metemma'--who had not heard of them before? now they were associated with triumph. considerable armies fought on the indian frontier. there was war in the south and the east and the west of africa. but england looked steadfastly towards the nile and the expedition that crawled forward slowly, steadily, unchecked, apparently irresistible. when the final triumph, long expected, came in all its completeness it was hailed with a shout of exultation, and the people of great britain, moved far beyond their wont, sat themselves down to give thanks to their god, their government, and their general. suddenly, on the chorus of their rejoicing there broke a discordant note. they were confronted with the fact that a 'friendly power' had, unprovoked, endeavoured to rob them of the fruits of their victories. they now realised that while they had been devoting themselves to great military operations, in broad daylight and the eye of the world, and prosecuting an enterprise on which they had set their hearts, other operations--covert and deceitful--had been in progress in the heart of the dark continent, designed solely for the mischievous and spiteful object of depriving them of the produce of their labours. and they firmly set their faces against such behaviour. first of all, great britain was determined to have fashoda or fight; and as soon as this was made clear, the french were willing to give way. fashoda was a miserable swamp, of no particular value to them. marchand, lord salisbury's 'explorer in difficulties upon the upper nile,' was admitted by the french minister to be merely an 'emissary of civilisation.' it was not worth their while to embark on the hazards and convulsions of a mighty war for either swamp or emissary. besides, the plot had failed. guy fawkes, true to his oath and his orders, had indeed reached the vault; but the other conspirators were less devoted. the abyssinians had held aloof. the negro tribes gazed with wonder on the strangers, but had no intention of fighting for them. the pride and barbarism of the khalifa rejected all overtures and disdained to discriminate between the various breeds of the accursed 'turks.' finally, the victory of omdurman and its forerunner--the desert railway--had revolutionised the whole situation in the nile valley. after some weeks of tension, the french government consented to withdraw their expedition from the region of the upper nile. meanwhile events were passing at fashoda. the town, the site of which had been carefully selected by the old egyptian government, is situated on the left bank of the river, on a gentle slope of ground which rises about four feet above the level of the nile at full flood. during the rainy season, which lasts from the end of june until the end of october, the surrounding country is one vast swamp, and fashoda itself becomes an island. it is not, however, without its importance; for it is the only spot on the west shore for very many miles where landing from the river is possible. all the roads--mere camel-tracks--from lower kordofan meet at the government post, but are only passable in the dry season. the soil is fertile, and, since there is a superabundance of sun and water, almost any crop or plant can be grown. the french officers, with the adaptive thrift of their nation, had already, in spite of the ravages of the water-rats, created a good vegetable garden, from which they were able to supplement their monotonous fare. the natives, however--aboriginal negroes of the dinka and shillook tribes--are unwilling to work, except to provide themselves with the necessaries of life; and since these are easily obtained, there is very little cultivation, and the fertility of the soil may be said to increase the poverty of the country. at all seasons of the year the climate of fashoda is pestilential, and the malarial fever attacks every european or egyptian, breaking down the strongest constitutions, and in many cases causing death. [the place is most unhealthy, and in march (the driest season of the year) out of a garrison of men only were fit for duty.--sir william garstin's report: egypt, no. , .] on this dismal island, far from civilisation, health, or comfort, the marchand mission and the egyptian garrison lived in polite antagonism for nearly three months. the french fort stood at the northern end. the egyptian camp lay outside the ruins of the town. civilities were constantly exchanged between the forces, and the british officers repaid the welcome gifts of fresh vegetables by newspapers and other conveniences. the senegalese riflemen were smart and well-conducted soldiers, and the blacks of the soudanese battalion soon imitated their officers in reciprocating courtesies. a feeling of mutual respect sprang up between colonel jackson and major marchand. the dashing commandant of the xith soudanese, whose egyptian medals bear no fewer than fourteen clasps, was filled with a generous admiration for the french explorer. realising the difficulties, he appreciated the magnificence of the achievement; and as he spoke excellent french a good and almost cordial understanding was established, and no serious disagreement occurred. but, notwithstanding the polite relations, the greatest vigilance was exercised by both sides, and whatever civilities were exchanged were of a formal nature. the dinkas and shillooks had on the first arrival of the french made submission, and had supplied them with provisions. they knew that white men were said to be coming, and they did not realise that there were different races among the whites. marchand was regarded as the advance guard of the sirdar's army. but when the negroes gradually perceived that these bands of white men were at enmity with each other--were, in fact, of rival tribes--they immediately transferred their allegiance to the stronger force, and, although their dread of the egyptian flag was at first very marked, boycotted the french entirely. in the middle of october despatches from france arrived for marchand by steamer; and that officer, after reading them, determined to proceed to cairo. jackson, who was most anxious that no disagreement should arise, begged him to give positive orders to his subordinate to maintain the status quo, as had been agreed. marchand gladly consented, and departed for omdurman, where he visited the battlefield, and found in the heaps of slain a grim witness of the destruction from which he had been saved, and so on to cairo, where he was moved to tears and speeches. but in his absence captain germain, who succeeded to the command, diverged from his orders, no sooner had marchand left than germain, anxious to win distinction, embarked upon a most aggressive policy. he occupied the dinka country on the right bank of the river, pushed reconnoitring parties into the interior, prevented the dinka sheikhs from coming to make their submission at fashoda, and sent his boats and the faidherbe steam launch, which had returned from the south, beyond the northern limits which the sirdar had prescribed and marchand had agreed to recognise. colonel jackson protested again and again. germain sent haughty replies, and persisted in his provoking policy. at last the british officer was compelled to declare that if any more patrols were sent into the dinka country, he would not allow them to return to the french post. whereat germain rejoined that he would meet force with force. all tempers were worn by fever, heat, discomfort, and monotony. the situation became very difficult, and the tact and patience of colonel jackson alone averted a conflict which would have resounded in all parts of the world. he confined his troops strictly to their lines, and moved as far from the french camp as was possible. but there was one dark day when the french officers worked in their shirts with their faithful senegalese to strengthen the entrenchments, and busily prepared for a desperate struggle. on the other side little activity was noticeable. the egyptian garrison, although under arms, kept out of sight, but a wisp of steam above the funnels of the redoubtable gunboats showed that all was ready. at length in a fortunate hour marchand returned, reproved his subordinate, and expressed his regrets to colonel jackson. then it became known that the french government had ordered the evacuation of fashoda. some weeks were spent in making preparations for the journey, but at length the day of departure arrived. at . on the morning of the th of december the french lowered their flag with salute and flourish of bugle. the british officers, who remained in their own camp and did not obtrude themselves, were distant but interested spectators. on the flag ceasing to fly, a sous-officier rushed up to the flagstaff and hurled it to the ground, shaking his fists and tearing his hair in a bitterness and vexation from which it is impossible to withhold sympathy, in view of what these men had suffered uselessly and what they had done. the french then embarked, and at . steamed southward, the faidherbe towing one oblong steel barge and one old steel boat, the other three boats sailing, all full of men. as the little flotilla passed the egyptian camp a guard of honour of the xith soudanese saluted them and the band struck up their national anthem. the french acknowledged the compliment by dipping their flag, and in return the british and egyptian flags were also lowered. the boats then continued their journey until they had rounded the bend of the river, when they came to land, and, honour being duly satisfied, marchand and his officers returned to breakfast with colonel jackson. the meeting was very friendly. jackson and germain exchanged most elaborate compliments, and the commandant, in the name of the xith soudanese, presented the expedition with the banner of the emir who had attacked them, which had been captured at reng. marchand shook hands all round, and the british officers bade their gallant opponents a final farewell. once again the eight frenchmen, who had come so far and accomplished so much, set out upon their travels, to make a safe though tedious journey through abyssinia to the coast, and thence home to the country they had served faithfully and well, and which was not unmindful of their services. let us settle the international aspect of the reconquest of the soudan while we are in the way with it. the disputes between france and england about the valley of the upper nile were terminated, as far as material cause was concerned, by an agreement, signed in london on the st of march, , by lord salisbury and m. cambon. the declaration limiting the respective spheres of influence of the two powers took the form of an addition to the ivth article of the niger convention, concluded in the previous year. its practical effect is to reserve the whole drainage system of the nile to england and egypt, and to engage that france shall have a free hand, so far as those powers are concerned, in the rest of northern africa west of the nile valley not yet occupied by europeans. this stupendous partition of half a continent by two european powers could scarcely be expected to excite the enthusiasm of the rest. germany was, however, soothed by the promise of the observance of the 'open door' policy upon the upper nile. italy, protesting meekly, followed germany. russia had no interests in this quarter. france and england were agreed. the rest were not consulted: and the declaration may thus be said to have been recognised by the world in general. it is perhaps early to attempt to pronounce with which of the contracting powers the advantage lies. france has acquired at a single stroke, without any serious military operations, the recognition of rights which may enable her ultimately to annex a vast african territory. at present what she has gained may be described as a recognised 'sphere of aspiration.' the future may convert this into a sphere of influence, and the distant future may witness the entire subjugation of the whole region. there are many difficulties to be overcome. the powerful influence of the senussi has yet to be overthrown. the independent kingdom of wadai must be conquered. many smaller potentates will resist desperately. altogether france has enough to occupy her in central africa for some time to come: and even when the long task is finished, the conquered regions are not likely to be of great value. they include the desert of the great sahara and wide expanses of equally profitless scrub or marsh. only one important river, the shari, flows through them, and never reaches the sea: and even lake chad, into which the shari flows, appears to be leaking through some subterranean exit, and is rapidly changing from a lake into an immense swamp. great britain and egypt, upon the other hand, have secured a territory which, though smaller, is nevertheless of enormous extent, more fertile, comparatively easy of access, practically conquered, and containing the waterway of the nile. france will be able to paint a great deal of the map of africa blue, and the aspect of the continent upon paper may please the patriotic eye; but it is already possible to predict that before she can develop her property--can convert aspiration into influence, and influence into occupation--she will have to work harder, pay more, and wait longer for a return than will the more modest owners of the nile valley. and even when that return is obtained, it is unlikely that it will be of so much value. it only remains to discuss the settlement made between the conquerors of the soudan. great britain and egypt had moved hand in hand up the great river, sharing, though unequally, the cost of the war in men and money. the prize belonged to both. the direct annexation of the soudan by great britain would have been an injustice to egypt. moreover, the claim of the conquerors to fashoda and other territories rested solely on the former rights of egypt. on the other hand, if the soudan became egyptian again, it must wear the fetters of that imprisoned country. the capitulations would apply to the upper nile regions, as to the delta. mixed tribunals, ottoman suzerainty, and other vexatious burdens would be added to the difficulties of soudan administration. to free the new country from the curse of internationalism was a paramount object. the soudan agreement by great britain and egypt, published on the th of march, , achieves this. like most of the best work done in egypt by the british agency, the agreement was slipped through without attracting much notice. under its authority a state has been created in the nile valley which is neither british nor ottoman, nor anything else so far known to the law of europe. international jurists are confronted with an entirely new political status. a diplomatic 'fourth dimension' has been discovered. great britain and egypt rule the country together. the allied conquerors have become the joint-possessors. 'what does this soudan agreement mean?' the austrian consul-general asked lord cromer; and the british agent, whom twenty-two years' acquaintance with egyptian affairs bad accustomed to anomalies, replied, 'it means simply this'; and handed him the inexplicable document, under which the conquered country may some day march to peace and plenty. chapter xviii: on the blue nile the authority of the khalifa and the strength of his army were for ever broken on the nd of september, and the battle of omdurman is the natural climax of this tale of war. to those who fought, and still more to those who fell, in the subsequent actions the climax came somewhat later. after the victory the public interest was no longer centred in the soudan. the last british battalion had been carried north of assuan; the last press correspondent had hurried back to cairo or london. but the military operations were by no means over. the enemy had been defeated. it remained to reconquer the territory. the dervishes of the provincial garrisons still preserved their allegiance to the khalifa. several strong arab forces kept the field. distant kordofan and even more distant darfur were as yet quite unaffected by the great battle at the confluence of the niles. there were rumours of europeans in the far south. the unquestioned command of the waterways which the sirdar enjoyed enabled the greater part of the egyptian soudan to be at once formally re-occupied. all towns or stations on the main rivers and their tributaries were at the mercy of the gunboats. it was only necessary to send troops to occupy them and to hoist the british and egyptian flags. two expeditions were forthwith sent up the white and blue niles to establish garrisons, and as far as possible to subdue the country. the first, under the personal command of the sirdar, left omdurman on the th of september, and steamed up the white nile towards fashoda. the events which followed that momentous journey have already been related. the second expedition consisted of the gunboats sheikh and hafir, together with two companies and the brass band of the xth soudanese and a maxim battery, all under the command of general hunter. leaving omdurman on the th of september, they started up the blue nile to abu haraz. the rest of the xth battalion followed as soon as other steamers were set free from the business of taking the british division to the atbara and bringing supplies to omdurman. the progress of the expedition up the river resembled a triumphal procession. the people of the riparian villages assembled on the banks, and, partly from satisfaction at being relieved from the oppression of the khalifa and the scourge of war, partly from fear, and partly from wonder, gave vent to loud and long-continued cheers. as the gunboats advanced the inhabitants escorted them along the bank, the men dancing and waving their swords, and the women uttering shrill cries of welcome. the reception of the expedition when places of importance were passed, and the crowd amounted to several thousands, is described as very stirring, and, we are told, such was the enthusiasm of the natives that they even broke up their houses to supply the gunboats with wood for fuel. whether this be true or not i cannot tell, but it is in any case certain that the vessels were duly supplied, and that the expedition in its progress was well received by the negroid tribes, who had long resented the tyranny of the arabs. on the nd of september a considerable part of the army of osman digna, which had not been present at the battle of omdurman, was found encamped on the ghezira, a few miles north of rufaa. the sheikhs and emirs, on being summoned by general hunter, surrendered, and a force of about , men laid down their arms. musa digna, a nephew of osman and the commander of his forces, was put in irons and held prisoner. the rest, who were mostly from the suakin district, were given a safe-conduct, and told to return to their homes--an order they lost no time in obeying. the next day the general arrived at wad medina, where the dervish garrison-- , strong--had already surrendered to the gunboat sheikh. these men, who were regular dervishes, were transported in sailing-boats to omdurman; and augmented the number of prisoners of war already collected. on the th of september general hunter reached rosaires, miles south of khartoum, and the extreme limit of steam navigation on the blue nile. by the rd of october he had established garrisons of the xth soudanese in rosaires, at karkoj, at sennar (the old seat of the government of the province), and at wad medina. having also arranged for gunboat patrolling, he returned to omdurman. but there was one dervish force which had no intention of surrendering to the invaders, and whose dispersal was not accomplished until three fierce and critical actions had been fought. ahmed fedil, a zealous and devoted adherent of the khalifa, had been sent, after the defeat on the atbara, to collect all the dervishes who could be spared from the gedaref and gallabat provinces, and bring them to join the growing army at omdurman. the emir had faithfully discharged his duty, and he was hurrying to his master's assistance with a strong and well disciplined force of no fewer than , men when, while yet sixty miles from the city, he received the news of 'the stricken field.' he immediately halted, and sought to hide the disaster from his soldiers by announcing that the khalifa had been victorious and no longer needed their assistance. he even explained the appearance of gunboats upon the river by saying that these had run past the batteries at omdurman and that the others were destroyed. the truth was not, however, long concealed; for a few days later two emissaries despatched by slatin arrived at the dervish camp and announced the destruction of the omdurman army, the flight of the khalifa, and the fall of the city. the messengers were authorised to offer ahmed terms; but that implacable dervish flew into a rage, and, having shot one, sent the other, covered with insults and stripes, to tell the 'turks' that he would fight to the bitter end. he then struck his camp, and marched back along the east bank of the blue nile, with the intention of crossing the river near its confluence with the rahad, and so joining the khalifa in kordofan. his dervishes, however, did not view this project with satisfaction. their families and women had been left with large stores of grain and ammunition in gedaref, under a strong garrison of , men. they urged their commander to return and collect these possessions. ahmed at first refused, but when on arriving at the place of passage he found himself confronted with a gunboat, he resolved to make a virtue of necessity and set out leisurely for gedaref. on the th of september colonel parsons, in command of the forces at kassala, heard through the italian governor of eritrea of the victory at omdurman. the next day official news arrived from england, and in conformity with previous instructions he set out on the th for gedaref. it was known that ahmed fedil had marched towards omdurman. it was believed that gedaref was only weakly held, and the opportunity of cutting the most powerful remaining dervish army from its base was too precious to be neglected. but the venture was desperate. the whole available strength of the kassala garrison was mustered. with these , motley soldiers, untried, little disciplined, worn with waiting and wasted by disease, without cavalry, artillery, or machine guns, and with only seven british officers, including the doctor, gedaref was taken, and, having been taken, was held. after two long marches colonel parsons and his force arrived at el fasher, on the right bank of the atbara. their advance, which had hitherto led them through a waterless desert, was now checked by a raging torrent. the river was in full flood, and a channel of deep water, broader than the thames below london bridge and racing along at seven miles an hour, formed a serious obstacle. since there were no boats the soldiers began forthwith to construct rafts from barrels that had been brought for the purpose. as soon as the first of these was completed, it was sent on a trial trip. the result was not encouraging. the raft supported ten men, occupied five hours in the passage, was carried ten miles down stream, and came back for its second journey on the afternoon of the next day. it was evident that this means of transport was out of the question. the only chance of success--indeed, of safety--lay in the force reaching and taking gedaref before the return of ahmed fedil. all depended upon speed; yet here was a hopeless delay. after prolonged discussion it was resolved to act on the suggestion of an egyptian officer and endeavour to build boats. the work proved easier than was anticipated. the elastic wood of the mimosa scrub supplied the frames; some tarpaulins--fortunately available--formed the outer covering. the egyptian soldiers, who delighted in the work, succeeded in making daily from such materials one boat capable of carrying two tons; and in these ingenious contrivances the whole force crossed to the further bank. the camels, mules, and horses of the transport--their heads supported with inflated water-skins tied under their jowls--were made to swim across the river by the local shukrieh arabs. such was the skill of these tribesmen that only one camel and one mule were drowned during the operation. the passage was completed on the th, and the next day the advance was resumed along the west bank of the atbara. at midday on the th mugatta was reached, and at dawn on the th the little force--having filled their water-skins, tightened their belts, and invoked the assistance of the various gods they worshipped--started off, and marched all day in single file through the thick bush which lies between the atbara and gedaref. the column retired to rest peacefully during the night of the st, although within twelve miles of gedaref. but at midnight startling news arrived. a deserter from the dervishes made his way into the camp and informed colonel parsons that the emir saadalla awaited him with , men two miles before the town. the situation was grave. a retreat through the broken country and thick bush in the face of a powerful and triumphant enemy seemed impossible. there was no alternative but to attack. very early on the morning of the nd--the same day on which general hunter on the blue nile was compelling musa digna and his followers to surrender--colonel parsons and the kassala column set forth to march into gedaref and to fight whatever force it might contain. for the first two hours the road lay through doura plantations and high grass which rose above the heads even of men mounted on camels; but as the town was approached, the doura ceased, and the troops emerged from the jungle on to an undulating moorland with occasional patches of rushes and withered grass. at half-past seven, and about three miles from gedaref, the enemy's scouts were encountered. a few shots were fired. the soldiers pressed their march, and at eight o'clock had reached a small knoll, from the top of which an extensive view was obtainable. the column halted, and colonel parsons and his officers ascended the eminence to reconnoitre. a most menacing spectacle confronted them. scarcely a mile away a strong force of dervishes was rapidly advancing to meet the invaders. four lines of white figures rising out of the grass showed by their length the number, and by their regularity the discipline, of the enemy. the officers computed the strength of their antagonists at not fewer than , . subsequent investigation has shown that the emir saadalla marched out of gedaref with , riflemen, , spearmen, and horse. the swiftness of the dervish advance and the short space that intervened between the forces made it evident that a collision would take place within half an hour. the valley was rocky, and overgrown with grass and reeds; but to the right of the track there rose a high saddleback hill, the surface of which looked more open, and which appeared to command the approaches from gedaref. the troops knew nothing of the country; the dervishes understood it thoroughly. the high ground gave at least advantage of view. colonel parsons resolved to occupy it. time was however, very scanty. the order was given, and the column began to double across the valley towards the saddleback. the dervishes, perceiving the nature of the movement, hurried their advance in the hope of catching the troops on the move and perhaps of even seizing the hill itself. but they were too late. colonel parsons and his force reached the saddleback safely, and with a few minutes to spare climbed up and advanced along it in column in the direction of gedaref--the arab battalion leading, the th egyptians next, and last of all the irregulars. the dervishes, seeing that the troops had already reached the hill and were moving along it towards the town, swung to their left and advanced to the attack. thereupon at half-past eight the column wheeled into line to meet them, and standing in the long grass, which even on the summit of the hill was nearly breast-high, opened a heavy and destructive fire. the enemy, although suffering severe loss, continued to struggle bravely onward, replying vigorously to the musketry of the soldiers. at nine o'clock, while the frontal attack was still undecided, colonel parsons became aware that a strong force of dervishes had moved round the left rear and were about to attack the hospital and transport. he at once sent to warn captain fleming, r.a.m.c., who combined the duties of medical officer and commander of the baggage column, of the impending assault, and directed him to close up the camels and meet it. the arab sheikhs, who in the absence of officers were acting as orderlies, had scarcely brought the news to fleming, when the dervish attack developed. the enemy, some strong, rushed with great determination upon the baggage, and the escort of arab irregulars at once broke and fled. the situation became desperate; but ruthven with thirty-four supply department camel-men hastened to meet the exultant enemy and protect the baggage column, and the transport was stubbornly defended. in spite of all their efforts the rear of the baggage column was broken and cut up. the survivors escaped along the saddleback. the british officers, with their small following, fell back towards their main body, hotly pressed by the enemy. at this moment captain ruthven observed one of his native officers, lying wounded on the ground, about to fall into the hands of the dervishes and perish miserably. he immediately went back and, being a man of great physical strength, carried the body off in his arms. the enemy were, however, so close that he was three times compelled to set his burden down and defend himself with his revolver. meanwhile the retirement towards the main body continued and accelerated. colonel parsons and his force were now between two fires. the frontal attack was within yards. the rear attack, flushed with success, were hurrying impetuously forward. the defeat and consequent total destruction of the kassala column appeared certain. but in the nick of time the dervish frontal attack, which had been suffering heavily from the fire of the troops, wavered; and when the arab battalion and the th egyptians advanced upon them to complete their discomfiture, they broke and fled. colonel parsons at once endeavoured to meet the rear attack. the arab battalion, whose valour was more admirable than their discipline, continued to pursue the beaten enemy down the hill; but the th egyptians, on being called upon by their commanding officer, captain mckerrell, faced steadily about and turned to encounter the fresh attack. the heavy fire of the regular battalion checked the dervish advance, and captain fleming, the rest of the dismounted camel-men, and ruthven still carrying his native officer, found safety in their ranks. [for his gallantry on this occasion captain ruthven has since received the victoria cross.] a short fierce musketry combat followed at a range of less than a hundred yards, at the end of which the assailants of the baggage convoy were completely repulsed. the action was now practically over and success was won. the arab battalion, and those of the irregulars that had rallied, advanced and drove the enemy before them towards gedaref, until at ten o'clock, both their front and rear attacks having failed, the dervishes abandoned all resistance and a general rout ensued. no cavalry or artillery being available, further pursuit was impossible. the town of gedaref surrendered at noon. the dervish emir, nur angara, who with black riflemen and two brass guns had been left in command of the garrison, made haste to submit. the remainder of the dervishes, continuing their flight under the emir saadalla, hurried to tell the tale of defeat to ahmed fedil. the casualties suffered by the kassala column in the action were severe in proportion to their numbers and the duration of the fight. the seven british officers escaped untouched; but of the , soldiers and irregulars engaged, were killed and wounded--a total of . the dervishes left dead on the field, including four emirs of rank. the victory had been won, the enemy were routed, and the town was taken: it had now to be defended. colonel parsons took possession of the principal buildings, and began immediately to put them in a state of defence. this was fortunately an easy matter. the position was good and adaptable. it consisted of three large enclosures, capable of holding the entire force, situated in echelon, so as to protect each other by their fire, and with strong brick walls six feet high. all were at once set to work to clear the approaches, to level the mud houses without, and to build ramparts or banquettes within the walls. the three enclosures thus became three forts, and in the principal work the two captured brass guns were mounted, in small bastions thrown out from the north and west corners. while the infantry were thus engaged, ruthven and his camel-men made daily reconnaissances of the surrounding country, and eagerly looked for the first appearance of ahmed fedil. by great good fortune a convoy of ammunition from mugatta reached gedaref on the afternoon of the th. at dawn the next day ruthven reported that the advance guard of ahmed fedil was approaching the town. the attack began at half-past eight. the dervishes, who fought with their customary gallantry, simultaneously assaulted the north, south, and west faces of the defences. creeping forward through the high doura, they were able to get within yards of the enclosures. but the intervening space had been carefully cleared of cover, and was swept by the musketry of the defenders. all attempts to cross this ground--even the most determined rushes--proved vain. while some made hopeless charges towards the walls, others crowded into a few straw shelters and mud huts which the troops had not found opportunity to remove, and thence maintained a ragged fire. after an hour's heavy fusillade the attack weakened, and presently ceased altogether. at ten o'clock, however, strong reinforcements having come up, the dervishes made a second attempt. they were again repulsed, and at a quarter to eleven, after losing more than men in killed and wounded, ahmed fedil admitted his defeat and retired to a clump of palm-trees two miles to the west of the town. the casualties among the defenders were five men killed, one british officer (captain dwyer) and thirteen men wounded. the dervishes remained for two days in the palm grove, and their leader repeatedly endeavoured to induce them to renew the attack. but although they closely surrounded the enclosures, and maintained a dropping fire, they refused to knock their heads against brick walls a third time; and on the st of october ahmed fedil was forced to retire to a more convenient camp eight miles to the southward. here for the next three weeks he remained, savage and sulky; and the kassala column were content to keep to their defences. a few convoys from mugatta made their way into the forts under the cover of darkness, but for all practical purposes the blockade of the garrison was complete. their losses in action had reduced their strength. they were not abundantly supplied with ammunition. the smell of the putrefying corpses which lay around the walls and in the doura crop, together with the unhealthy climate and the filth of the town, was a fertile source of disease. a painful and racking fever afflicted all ranks, and at one time as many as of the regular soldiers were prostrated. the recurring night alarms added to the fatigues of the troops and the anxieties of the seven officers. the situation was indeed so unsatisfactory that colonel parsons was compelled to ask for assistance. major-general rundle, who in the sirdar's absence held the chief command, immediately organised a relief expedition. the ixth, xiith, and half of the xiiith soudanese, with three companies of the camel corps, under colonel collinson, were at once sent from omdurman to the mouth of the rahad river. the infantry were conveyed in steamers; the camel corps marched along the bank, completing the whole distance of miles in fifty-six hours. the blue nile garrisons, with the exception of the post at rosaires, were also concentrated. by the th of october the whole force was collected at abu haraz. five hundred camels, which had marched from omdurman, and every available local beast of burden joined the transport of the column. on the th the xiith soudanese started up the rahad river for ain el owega. from this point the road leaves the river and strikes across the desert to gedaref, a distance of miles; and in the whole distance water is only found at the wells of el kau. owing to this scarcity of water it was necessary to carry a supply with the troops. the transport being insufficient to provide for the whole force, the march had to be made in two columns. the camel corps and the xiith soudanese, about , strong, set forth under colonel collinson from ain el owega on the th, and reached gedaref safely on the nd. warned of their arrival, ahmed fedil, having made a feeble night attack which was repulsed by the garrison with a loss to themselves of two soudanese wounded, realised that he had now no chance of recapturing the town. preparations were indeed made to attack him; but on the rd of october, when a reconnaissance was made in the direction of his camp, the dervish force was seen moving off in a southerly direction, their retreat covered by a strong rearguard, which was intended to perform the double duty of protecting the retirement and preventing desertion. the operations conducted by colonel parsons thus ended in complete success. great difficulties were overcome, great perils were encountered, great results were obtained. but while we applaud the skill of the commander and the devotion of his subordinates, it is impossible not to criticise the rash and over-confident policy which sent such a weak and ill-equipped force on so hazardous an enterprise. the action of gedaref, as has been shown, was, through no fault of the officers or men of the expedition, within an ace of being a disaster. but there were other critical occasions when only the extraordinary good fortune which attended the force saved it from destruction. first, the column was not discovered until it reached mugatta; secondly, it was not attacked in the thick bush; thirdly, the dervishes gave battle in the open instead of remaining within their walls, whence the troops could not have driven them without artillery; and, fourthly, the reserve ammunition arrived before the attack of ahmed fedil. after his defeat before gedaref, ahmed fedil reverted to his intention of joining the khalifa in kordofan, and he withdrew southwards towards the dinder river with a following that still numbered more than , . to pass the nile in the face of the gunboats appeared impossible. he did not, however, believe that steamers could navigate the higher reaches of the rivers, and in the hopes of finding a safe crossing-place he directed his march so as to strike the blue nile south of karkoj. moving leisurely, and with frequent delays to pillage the inhabitants, he arrived on the dinder, twenty-five miles to the east of karkoj, on the th of november. here he halted to reconnoitre. he had trusted in the karkoj-rosaires reach being too shallow for the gunboats; but he found two powerful vessels already patrolling it. again frustrated, he turned southwards, meaning to cross above the rosaires cataract, which was without doubt impassable to steamers. on the nd of october colonel lewis, with two companies of the camel corps and three squadrons of cavalry, started from omdurman with the object of marching through the centre of the ghezira and of re-establishing the egyptian authority. his progress was in every way successful. the inhabitants were submissive, and resigned themselves with scarcely a regret to orderly government. very little lawlessness had followed the defeat of the khalifa, and whatever plundering there had been was chiefly the work of the disbanded irregulars who had fought at omdurman under major wortley's command on the east bank of the nile. in every village sheikhs were appointed in the name of the khedive, and the officers of the cavalry column concerned themselves with many difficult disputes about land, crops, and women--all of which they settled to their satisfaction. marching through awamra, haloosen, and mesalamia, colonel lewis reached karkoj on the th of november, almost at the same time that ahmed fedil arrived on the dinder. for the next six weeks the movements of the two forces resembled a game of hide-and-seek. ahmed fedil, concealed in the dense forest and jungle of the east bank, raided the surrounding villages and worked his way gradually towards the rosaires cataract. colonel lewis, perplexed by false and vague information, remained halted at karkoj, despatched vain reconnaissances in the hopes of obtaining reliable news, revolved deep schemes to cut off the raiding parties, or patrolled the river in the gunboats. and meanwhile sickness fell upon his force. the malarial fever, which is everywhere prevalent on the blue nile in the autumn, was now at its height. more than per cent of every garrison and every post were affected. the company holding rosaires were stricken to a man, and only the two british officers remained fit for duty. the cavalry force which had marched through the ghezira suffered the most severely. one after another every british officer was stricken down and lay burning but helpless beneath the palm-leaf shelters or tottered on to the friendly steamers that bore the worst cases north. of the men who composed the force, ten had died and were reported unfit for duty within a month of their arrival at karkoj. during the end of november the sheikh bakr, who had deserted the dervishes after their retreat from gedaref, arrived at karkoj with irregulars. he claimed to have defeated his former chief many times, and produced a sack of heads as evidence of his success. his loyalty being thus placed beyond doubt, he was sent to keep contact with the dervishes and encouraged to the greatest efforts by the permission to appropriate whatever spoils of war he could capture. meanwhile ahmed fedil was working his way slowly southward along a deep khor which runs almost parallel to the blue nile and is perhaps twenty miles from it. as soon as the position of the dervish emir was definitely known, colonel lewis moved his force, which had been strengthened by detachments of the xth soudanese, from karkoj to rosaires. here he remained for several days, with but little hope of obstructing the enemy's passage of the river. on the th of december, however, full--though, as was afterwards found, not very accurate--information was received. it was reported that on the th ahmed fedil had reached the village of dakhila, about twenty miles south of the rosaires post; that he himself had immediately crossed with his advanced guard, and was busily passing the women and children across the river on rafts. on the nd, therefore, colonel lewis hurried the sheikh bakr up the west bank to cut off their flocks and harass the dervishes who had already crossed the river. the irregulars accordingly departed; and the next day news was brought that the dervish force was almost equally divided by the blue nile, half being on one bank and half on the other. at midday on the th the gunboats melik and dal arrived from omdurman with a detachment of more men of the xth soudanese under major fergusson, and thirty men of the ixth soudanese under captain sir henry hill. with this addition the force at colonel lewis's disposal consisted of half the xth soudanese, a small detachment of the ixth soudanese, two maxim guns, and a doctor. besides the regular troops, there were also the band of irregulars under the sheikh bakr, numbering men, men under the sheikh of rosaires, and a few other unclassified scallywags. colonel lewis determined to attack what part of ahmed fedil's force still remained on the east bank of the river, and on christmas day, at five o'clock in the afternoon, he marched with every man he could muster in the direction of dakhila. moving in single file along a track which led through a dense forest of thorny trees, the column reached adu zogholi, a village thought to be half, but really not one-third, of the way to dakhila, at eleven o'clock on christmas night. here they bivouacked until a.m. on the th, when the march was resumed in the same straggling order through the same tangled scrub. daylight found them still several miles from the dervish position, and it was not until eight o'clock that the enemy's outposts were discovered. after a few shots the arab picket fell back, and the advance guard, hurrying after them, emerged from the forest upon the open ground of the river bank, broken only by palms and patches of high grass. into this space the whole column gradually debouched. before them the blue nile, shining in the early sunlight like a silver band, flowed swiftly; and beyond its nearest waters rose a long, bare, gravel island crowned with clumps of sandhills, to the shelter of which several hundred dervishes, surprised by the sudden arrival of the troops, were scampering. beyond the island, on the tall tree-clad cliff of the further bank, other minute figures moved and bustled. the discordant sound of horns and drums floating across the waters, and the unfurling of many bright flags, proclaimed the presence and the intention of the hostile force. the dervish position was well chosen and of great defensive strength. a little to the north of dakhila the blue nile bifurcates--one rapid but shallow stream flowing fairly straight under the east bank; another very deep stream running in a wide curve under the west bank, cutting into it so that it is precipitous. these two branches of the river enclose an island a mile and a quarter long by , yards wide, and on this island, surrounded by a natural moat of swiftly flowing water, was the dervish dem. the western side of the island rose into a line of low sandhills covered with scrub and grass, with a steep reverse slope towards the foreshore of the river-bank; and here, in this excellent cover, what eventually proved to be three-quarters of the force of ahmed fedil were drawn up. backed against the deep arm of the river they had no choice, nor indeed any other wish, but to fight. before them stretched a bare slope of heavy shingle, , yards wide, over which their enemies must advance to the attack, behind them the high precipitous west bank of the river, which rose in some places to a height of fifty feet, was lined with the riflemen who had already crossed; and from this secure position ahmed fedil and four of his emirs were able to watch, assist, and direct the defence of the island. the force on the island was under the sole command of the emir saadalla, of gedaref repute; but, besides his own followers, most of the men of the four other emirs were concentrated there. the prospect was uninviting. colonel lewis discovered that he had absurdly under-rated the strength and discipline of the dervish force. it had been continually reported that the defeats at gedaref had demoralised them, and that their numbers did not exceed , men. moreover, he had marched to the attack in the belief that they were equally divided on both sides of the river. retreat was, however, impossible. strong as was the position of the enemy, formidable as was their strength, the direct assault was actually safer than a retirement through the nineteen miles of gloomy forest which lay between the adventurous column and rosaires. the british officer immediately determined to engage. at nine o'clock the two maxims, which represented the artillery of the little force, came into action in good positions, while the xth soudanese and most of the irregulars lined the east bank. musketry and maxim fire was now opened at long range. the dervishes replied, and as the smoke of their rifles gradually revealed their position and their numbers, it soon became evident that no long-range fire could dislodge them; and colonel lewis resolved, in spite of the great disparity of force and disadvantage of ground, to attack them with the bayonet. some time was spent in finding fords across the interposing arm of the river, and it was not until past ten o'clock that bakr's men crossed on to the island, and, supported by a company of the xth soudanese, advanced towards the enemy's right and took up a position at about yards from their line, to cover the rest of the passage. colonel lewis now determined to turn the enemy's left from the north, attack them in flank, and roll them into the deep part of the river. with the xth soudanese, under colonel nason and major fergusson, he marched northwards along the river's edge, sheltering as far as possible under the curve of the bank from the fire, which now began to cause casualties. having reached the position from which it was determined to deliver the attack, the battalion deployed into line, and, changing front half left, advanced obliquely by alternate companies across the bare shingle towards the sandhills. as they advanced, a galling fire was opened upon the left flank by two hundred dervishes admirably placed on a knoll. major fergusson was detached with one company to dislodge them. the remaining four companies continued the attack. the dervish musketry now became intense. the whole front of the island position was lined with smoke, and behind it, from the high cliff of the west bank, a long half-circle of riflemen directed a second tier of converging bullets upon the charging men. the shingle jumped and stirred in all directions as it was struck. a hideous whistling filled the air. the soudanese began to drop on all sides, 'just like the dervishes at omdurman,' and the ground was soon dotted with the bodies of the killed and wounded. 'we did not,' said an officer, 'dare to look back.' but undaunted by fire and cross-fire, the heroic black soldiers--demons who would not be denied--pressed forward without the slightest check or hesitation, and, increasing their pace to a swift run in their eagerness to close with the enemy, reached the first sandhills and found cover beneath them. a quarter of the battalion had already fallen, and lay strewn on the shingle. the rapidity of their advance had exhausted the soudanese, and lewis ordered nason to halt under cover of the sandhills for a few minutes, so that the soldiers might get their breath before the final effort. thereupon the dervishes, seeing that the troops were no longer advancing, and believing that the attack was repulsed, resolved to clinch the matter. ahmed fedil from the west bank sounded the charge on drum and bugle, and with loud shouts of triumph and enthusiasm the whole force on the island rose from among the upper sandhills, and, waving their banners, advanced impetuously in counter-attack. but the xth soudanese, panting yet unconquerable, responded to the call of their two white officers, and, crowning the little dunes behind which they had sheltered, met the exultant enemy with a withering fire and a responding shout. the range was short and the fire effective. the astonished arabs wavered and broke; and then the soldiers, nobly led, swept forward in a long scattered line and drove the enemy from one sandy ridge to another--drove them across the rolling and uneven ground, every fold of which contained dervishes--drove them steadily back over the sandhills, until all who were not killed or wounded were penned at the extreme southern end of the island, with the deep unfordable arm of the river behind them and the fierce black soldiers, roused to fury by their losses, in front. the sheikh bakr, with his men and the rest of the irregulars, joined the victorious soudanese, and from the cover of the sandhills, now in the hands of the troops, a terrible fire was opened upon the dervishes crowded together on the bare and narrow promontory and on the foreshore. some tried to swim across the rushing river to their friends on the west bank. many were drowned--among them saadalla, who sank horse and man beneath the flood. others took refuge from the fire by standing up to their necks in the stream. the greater part, however, escaped to a smaller island a little further up the river. but the cover was bad, the deep water prevented further flight, and, after being exposed for an hour and a half to the musketry of two companies, the survivors-- strong--surrendered. by . the whole island was in the possession of the troops. it was, however, still swept and commanded by the fire from the west bank. the company which had been detached to subdue the dervish riflemen were themselves pinned behind their scanty cover. major fergusson was severely wounded and a third of his men were hit. to withdraw this company and the wounded was a matter of great difficulty; and it was necessary to carry the maxims across the river and bring them into action at yards. firing ceased at last at three o'clock, and the victors were left to measure their losses and their achievement. there was neither time nor opportunity to count the enemy's dead, but it is certain that at least arabs were killed on the island. two thousand one hundred and twenty-seven fighting men and several hundred women and children surrendered. five hundred and seventy-six rifles, large quantities of ammunition, and a huge pile of spears and swords were captured. ahmed fedil, indeed, escaped with a numerous following across the ghezira, but so disheartened were the dervishes by this crushing defeat that the whole force surrendered to the gunboat metemma at reng, on the white nile, on the nd of january, and their leader was content to fly with scarcely a dozen followers to join the khalifa. the casualties among the troops in the action amounted to killed and wounded, including major fergusson; and the xth soudanese, on whom the brunt of the fighting fell, suffered a loss of non-commissioned officers and men killed, british officer, native officers, and non-commissioned officers and men wounded, out of a total strength of . the rest of the loss was among the irregulars, of whom took part in the engagement. chapter xix: the end of the khalifa by the operations described in the last chapter, the whole of the regions bordering on the niles were cleared of hostile forces, dotted with military posts, and brought back to egyptian authority. the khalifa, however, still remained in kordofan. after he had made good his escape from the battlefield of omdurman, abdullah had hurried in the direction of el obeid, moving by the wells of shat and zeregia, which at that season of the year were full of water after the rains. at abu sherai, having shaken off the pursuit of the friendlies, he halted, encamped, and busily set to work to reorganise his shattered forces. how far he succeeded in this will presently be apparent. in the beginning of november the general drying-up of the country turned the wells at abu sherai into pools of mud, and the khalifa moved westward to aigaila. here he was joined by the emir el khatem with the el obeid garrison. this chief and his followers had never been engaged with the 'turks,' and were consequently fresh and valiant. their arrival greatly encouraged the force which the khalifa had rallied. a large dem was formed at aigaila, and here, since the water was plentiful during december, abdullah abode quietly, sending his raiding parties far afield to collect grain and other supplies. as soon as the sirdar, who had returned from england, received the news of the success at rosaires he determined to make an attempt to capture the khalifa; and on the th of december sent for colonel kitchener, to whom as the senior available officer he had decided to entrust this honourable enterprise. the colonel was directed to take a small mixed force into kordofan and to reconnoitre the enemy's position. if possible, he was to attack and capture abdullah, whose followers were believed not to exceed , ill-armed men. the 'kordofan field force,' as its officers called it, was formed as follows: commanding: colonel kitchener assistant adjutant-general: lieut.-colonel mitford deputy-assistant adjutant-general: major williams troops: two squadrons egyptian cavalry nd egyptians xivth soudanese two galloping maxims two mule guns one company camel corps. camel transport was drawn from the atbara and from the blue nile. the troops were conveyed by steamer to duem, and concentrated there during the first week in . the camels were collected at kawa, and, although several of the convoys had to march as much as miles, the whole number had arrived by the th of january. the prime difficulty of the operation was the want of water. the khalifa's position was nearly miles from the river. the intervening country is, in the wet season, dotted with shallow lakes, but by january these are reduced to mud puddles and only occasional pools remain. all the water needed by the men, horses, and mules of the column must therefore be carried. the camels must go thirsty until one of the rare pools--the likely places for which were known to the native guides--might be found. now, the capacity of a camel for endurance without drinking is famous; but it has its limits. if he start having filled himself with water, he can march for five days without refreshment. if he then have another long drink, he can continue for five days more. but this strains his power to the extreme; he suffers acutely during the journey, and probably dies at its end. in war, however, the miseries of animals cannot be considered; their capacity for work alone concerns the commander. it was thought that, partly by the water carried in skins, partly by the drying-up pools, and partly by the camel's power of endurance, it might be just possible for a force of about , men to strike out miles into the desert, to have three days to do their business in, and to come back to the nile. this operation, which has been called the shirkela reconnaissance, occupied the kordofan field force. the report of the route from kohi was considered encouraging. at gedid the old wells promised sufficient water to refill the skins, and within seven miles of the wells were two large pools at which the camels could be watered. the column, therefore, prepared for the journey. nothing was neglected which could increase the water carried or diminish the number of drinkers. only twelve cavalry were taken. the horses of the maxim guns and the mules of the battery were reduced to the lowest possible number. every person, animal, or thing not vitally necessary was remorselessly excluded. in order to lighten the loads and make room for more water, even the ammunition was limited to rounds per rifle. the daily consumption of water was restricted to one pint for men, six gallons for horses, and five for mules. to lessen the thirst caused by the heat colonel kitchener decided to march by night. an advanced depot was formed at gedid and food for two days accumulated there. besides this, each unit carried ten, and the column transport seven, days' rations. thus the force were supplied with food up till the th of february, and their radius of action, except as restricted by water, was nineteen days. this was further extended five days by the arrangement of a convoy which was to set out on the th of january to meet them as they returned. the column--numbering , officers and men and , camels and other beasts of burden--started from kohi at p.m. on the rd of january, having sent on a small advanced party to the wells of gedid twelve hours before. the country through which their route lay was of barren and miserable aspect. they had embarked on a sandy ocean with waves of thorny scrub and withered grass. from the occasional rocky ridges, which allowed a more extended view, this sterile jungle could be seen stretching indefinitely on all sides. ten miles from the river all vestiges of animal life disappeared. the land was a desert; not the open desert of the northern soudan, but one vast unprofitable thicket, whose interlacing thorn bushes, unable to yield the slightest nourishment to living creatures, could yet obstruct their path. through this the straggling column, headed in the daylight by the red egyptian flag and at night by a lantern on a pole, wound its weary way, the advanced guard cutting a path with axes and marking the track with strips of calico, the rearguard driving on the laggard camels and picking up the numerous loads which were cast. three long marches brought them on the th to gedid. the first detachment had already arrived and had opened up the wells. none gave much water; all emitted a foul stench, and one was occupied by a poisonous serpent eight feet long--the sole inhabitant. the camels were sent to drink at the pool seven miles away, and it was hoped that some of the water-skins could be refilled; but, after all, the green slime was thought unfit for human consumption, and they had to come back empty. the march was resumed on the th. the trees were now larger; the scrub became a forest; the sandy soil changed to a dark red colour; but otherwise the character of the country was unaltered. the column rested at abu rokba. a few starving inhabitants who occupied the huts pointed out the grave of the khalifa's father and the little straw house in which abdullah was wont to pray during his visits. lately, they said, he had retired from aigaila to shirkela, but even from this latter place he had made frequent pilgrimages. at the end of the next march, which was made by day, the guides, whose memories had been refreshed by flogging, discovered a large pool of good water, and all drank deeply in thankful joy. a small but strong zeriba was built near this precious pool, and the reserve food and a few sick men were left with a small garrison under an egyptian officer. the column resumed their journey. on the th they reached aigaila, and here, with feelings of astonishment scarcely less than robinson crusoe experienced at seeing the footprint in the sand, they came upon the khalifa's abandoned camp. a wide space had been cleared of bush, and the trees, stripped of their smaller branches, presented an uncanny appearance. beyond stood the encampment--a great multitude of yellow spear-grass dwellings, perfectly clean, neatly arranged in streets and squares, and stretching for miles. the aspect of this strange deserted town, rising, silent as a cemetery, out of the awful scrub, chilled everyone who saw it. its size might indeed concern their leader. at the very lowest computation it had contained , people. how many of these were fighting men? certainly not fewer than , or , . yet the expedition had been sent on the assumption that there were scarcely , warriors with the khalifa! observing every precaution of war, the column crawled forward, and the cavalry and camel corps, who covered the advance, soon came in contact with the enemy's scouts. shots were exchanged and the arabs retreated. the column halted three miles to the east of this position, and, forming a strong zeriba, passed the night in expectation of an attack. nothing, however, happened, and at dawn mitford was sent out with some mounted 'friendlies' to reconnoitre. at ten o'clock he returned, and his report confirmed the conclusions which had been drawn from the size of the aigaila camp. creeping forward to a good point of view, the officer had seen the dervish flags lining the crest of the hill. from their number, the breadth of front covered, and the numerous figures of men moving about them, he estimated not fewer than , arab riflemen in the front line. how many more were in reserve it was impossible to say. the position was, moreover, of great strength, being surrounded by deep ravines and pools of water. the news was startling. the small force were miles from their base; behind them lay an almost waterless country, and in front was a powerful enemy. an informal council of war was held. the sirdar had distinctly ordered that, whatever happened, there was to be no waiting; the troops were either to attack or retire. colonel kitchener decided to retire. the decision having been taken, the next step was to get beyond the enemy's reach as quickly as possible, and the force began their retreat on the same night. the homeward march was not less long and trying than the advance, and neither hopes of distinction nor glamour of excitement cheered the weary soldiers. as they toiled gloomily back towards the nile, the horror of the accursed land grew upon all. hideous spectacles of human misery were added to the desolation of the hot, thorny scrub and stinking pools of mud. the starving inhabitants had been lured from their holes and corners by the outward passage of the troops, and hoped to snatch some food from the field of battle. disappointed, they now approached the camps at night in twos and threes, making piteous entreaties for any kind of nourishment. their appeals were perforce unregarded; not an ounce of spare food remained. towards the end of the journey the camels, terribly strained by their privation of water, began to die, and it was evident that the force would have no time to spare. one young camel, though not apparently exhausted, refused to proceed, and even when a fire was lighted round him remained stubborn and motionless; so that, after being terribly scorched, he had to be shot. others fell and died all along the route. their deaths brought some relief to the starving inhabitants. for as each animal was left behind, the officers, looking back, might see first one, then another furtive figure emerge from the bush and pounce on the body like a vulture; and in many cases before life was extinct the famished natives were devouring the flesh. on the th of february the column reached kohi, and the kordofan field force, having overcome many difficulties and suffered many hardships, was broken up, unsuccessful through no fault of its commander, its officers, or its men. for nearly a year no further operations were undertaken against the khalifa, and he remained all through the spring and summer of supreme in kordofan, reorganising his adherents and plundering the country--a chronic danger to the new government, a curse to the local inhabitants, and a most serious element of unrest. the barren and almost waterless regions into which he had withdrawn presented very difficult obstacles to any military expedition, and although powerful forces were still concentrated at khartoum, the dry season and the uncertain whereabouts of the enemy prevented action. but towards the end of august trustworthy information was received by the intelligence department, through the agency of friendly tribesmen, that the khalifa, with all his army, was encamped at jebel gedir--that same mountain in southern kordofan to which nearly twenty years before he and the mahdi had retreated after the flight from abba island. here among old memories which his presence revived he became at once a centre of fanaticism. night after night he slept upon the mahdi's stone; and day after day tales of his dreams were carried by secret emissaries not only throughout the western soudan, but into the ghezira and even to khartoum. and now, his position being definite and his action highly dangerous, it was decided to move against him. on the th of october the first soudanese battalion was despatched in steamers from khartoum, and by the th a force of some , men, well equipped with camel transport, was concentrated at kaka, a village on the white nile not far north of fashoda. the distance from here to jebel gedir was about eighty miles, and as for the first fifty no water existed; the whole supply had to be carried in tanks. sir reginald wingate, who was in command of the infantry, reached fungor, thirty miles from the enemy's position, with the two leading battalions (ixth and xth soudanese) on the rd of october, only to find news that the khalifa had left his camp at jebel gedir on the th and had receded indefinitely into the desert. the cast having failed, and further progress involving a multiplication of difficulties, lord kitchener, who was at kaka, stopped the operations, and the whole of the troops returned to khartoum, which they reached in much vexation and disappointment on the st of november. it was at first universally believed that the khalifa's intention was to retire to an almost inaccessible distance--to el obeid or southern darfur--and the officers of the egyptian army passed an unhappy fortnight reading the ladysmith telegrams and accusing their evil fortune which kept them so far from the scene of action. but soon strange rumours began to run about the bazaars of omdurman of buried weapons and whispers of revolt. for a few days a vague feeling of unrest pervaded the native city, and then suddenly on the th of november came precise and surprising news. the khalifa was not retreating to the south or to the west, but advancing northward with omdurman, not el obeid, as his object. emboldened by the spectacle of two successive expeditions retreating abortive, and by, who shall say what wild exaggerated tales of disasters to the turks far beyond the limits of the soudan, abdullah had resolved to stake all that yet remained to him in one last desperate attempt to recapture his former capital; and so, upon the th of november, his advanced guard, under the emir ahmed fedil, struck the nile opposite abba island, and audaciously fired volleys of musketry at the gunboat sultan which was patrolling the river. the name of abba island may perhaps carry the reader back to the very beginning of this story. here, eighteen years before, the mahdi had lived and prayed after his quarrel with the haughty sheikh; here abdullah had joined him; here the flag of the revolt had been set up, and the first defeat had been inflicted upon the egyptian troops; and here, too, still dwelt--dwells, indeed, to this day--one of those same brothers who had pursued through all the vicissitudes and convulsions which had shaken the soudan his humble industry of building wooden boats. it is surely a curious instance of the occasional symmetry of history that final destruction should have befallen the last remains of the mahdist movement so close to the scene of its origin! the news which had reached khartoum set all wheels in motion. the ixth and xiiith soudanese battalions were mobilised on the th of november and despatched at once to abba island under colonel lewis. kitchener hurried south from cairo, and arrived in khartoum on the th. a field force of some , troops--one troop of cavalry, the nd field battery, the st maxim battery, the camel corps, ixth soudanese, xiiith soudanese, and one company nd egyptians--was immediately formed, and the command entrusted to sir reginald wingate. there were besides some arab riflemen and a few irregular mounted scouts. on the th these troops were concentrated at fashi shoya, whence colonel lewis had obliged ahmed fedil to withdraw, and at . on the afternoon of the st the expedition started in a south-westerly direction upon the track of the enemy. the troops bivouacked some ten miles south-west of fashi shoya, and then marched in bright moonlight to nefisa, encountering only a dervish patrol of about ten men. at nefisa was found the evacuated camp of ahmed fedil, containing a quantity of grain which he had collected from the riverain district, and, what was of more value, a sick but intelligent dervish who stated that the emir had just moved to abu aadel, five miles further on. this information was soon confirmed by mahmud hussein, an egyptian officer, who with an irregular patrol advanced boldly in reconnaissance. the infantry needed a short rest to eat a little food, and sir reginald wingate ordered colonel mahon to press on immediately with the whole of the mounted troops and engage the enemy, so as to prevent him retreating before an action could be forced. accordingly cavalry, camel corps, maxims, and irregulars--whose fleetness of foot enabled them, though not mounted, to keep pace with the rest--set off at their best pace: and after them at . hurried the infantry, refreshed by a drink at the water tanks and a hasty meal. as they advanced the scrub became denser, and all were in broken and obstructed ground when, at about ten o'clock, the sound of maxim firing and the patter of musketry proclaimed that mahon had come into contact. the firing soon became more rapid, and as the infantry approached it was evident that the mounted troops were briskly engaged. the position which they occupied was a low ridge which rose a little above the level of the plain and was comparatively bare of scrub; from this it was possible at a distance of yards to overlook the dervish encampment huddled around the water pools. it was immediately evident that the infantry and the battery were arriving none too soon. the dervishes, who had hitherto contented themselves with maintaining a ragged and desultory fire from the scrub, now sallied forth into the open and delivered a most bold and determined charge upon the guns. the intervening space was little more than yards, and for a moment the attack looked as if it might succeed. but upon the instant the ixth and xiiith soudanese, who had been doubled steadily for upwards of two miles, came into line, filling the gap between mahon's guns and dismounted camel corps and the irregular riflemen; and so the converging fire of the whole force was brought to bear upon the enemy--now completely beaten and demoralised. two dervishes, brothers, bound together hand and foot, perished in valiant comradeship ninety-five paces from the line of guns. many were slain, and the remainder fled. the whole egyptian line now advanced upon the encampment hard upon the tracks of the retreating enemy, who were seen emerging from the scrub on to a grassy plain more than a mile away, across which and further for a distance of five miles they were pursued by the cavalry and the camel corps. three hundred and twenty corpses were counted, and at least an equal number must have been wounded. ahmed fedil and one or two of his principal emirs escaped to the southward and to the khalifa. the egyptian loss amounted to five men wounded. the troops bivouacked in square formation, at about four o'clock, near the scene of action. a question of considerable difficulty and some anxiety now arose. it was learned from the prisoners that the khalifa, with about , fighting men, was moving northwards towards the wells of gedid, of which we have already heard in the shirkela reconnaissance, and which were some twenty-five miles from the scene of the fight. the troops were already fatigued by their severe exertions. the water pool was so foul that even the thirsty camels refused to drink of it, and moreover scarcely any water remained in the tanks. it was therefore of vital importance to reach the wells of gedid. but supposing exhausted troops famishing for water reached them only to be confronted by a powerful dervish force already in possession! sir reginald wingate decided, however, to face the risk, and at a few minutes before midnight the column set out again on its road. the ground was broken; the night was sultry: and as the hours passed by the sufferings of the infantry began to be most acute. many piteous appeals were made for water. all had perforce to be refused by the commander, who dared not diminish by a mouthful his slender store until he knew the true situation at gedid. in these circumstances the infantry, in spite of their admirable patience, became very restive. many men fell exhausted to the ground; and it was with a feeling of immense relief that at nine o'clock on the morning of the th news was received from the cavalry that the wells had been occupied by them without opposition. all the water in the tanks was at once distributed, and thus refreshed the infantry struggled on and settled down at midday around a fine pool of comparatively pure water. at gedid, as at nefisa, a single dervish, and this time a sullen fellow, was captured, and from him it was learned that the khalifa's army was encamped seven miles to the south-east. it was now clear that his position was strategically most unfavourable. his route to the north was barred; his retreat to the south lay through waterless and densely wooded districts; and as the seizure of the grain supplies which had resulted from fedil's foraging excursions rendered his advance or retirement a matter of difficulty, it seemed probable he would stand. wingate, therefore, decided to attack him at dawn. leaving the transport under guard by the water with instructions to follow at four o'clock, the troops moved off at midnight, screened in front at a distance of half a mile by the cavalry and their flanks protected by the camel corps. the road was in places so thickly wooded that a path had to be cut by the infantry pioneers and the artillery. at three o'clock, when about three miles from the enemy's position, the force was deployed into fighting formation. the irregular riflemen covered the front; behind them the xiiith and ixth soudanese; and behind these, again, the maxims and the artillery were disposed. cautiously and silently the advance was resumed, and now in the distance the beating of war drums and the long booming note of the khalifa's horn broke on the stillness, proclaiming that the enemy were not unprepared. at a few minutes before four o'clock another low ridge, also comparatively bare of scrub, was reached and occupied as a position. the cavalry were now withdrawn from the front, a few infantry picquets were thrown out, and the rest of the force lay down in the long grass of the little ridge and waited for daylight. after about an hour the sky to the eastward began to grow paler with the promise of the morning and in the indistinct light the picquets could be seen creeping gradually in; while behind them along the line of the trees faint white figures, barely distinguishable, began to accumulate. sir reginald wingate, fearing lest a sudden rush should be made upon him, now ordered the whole force to stand up and open fire; and forthwith, in sudden contrast to the silence and obscurity, a loud crackling fusillade began. it was immediately answered. the enemy's fire flickered along a wide half-circle and developed continually with greater vigour opposite the egyptian left, which was consequently reinforced. as the light improved, large bodies of shouting dervishes were seen advancing; but the fire was too hot, and their emirs were unable to lead them far beyond the edge of the wood. so soon as this was perceived wingate ordered a general advance; and the whole force, moving at a rapid pace down the gentle slope, drove the enemy through the trees into the camp about a mile and a half away. here, huddled together under their straw shelters, , women and children were collected, all of whom, with many unwounded combatants, made signals of surrender and appeals for mercy. the 'cease fire' was sounded at half-past six. then, and not till then, was it discovered how severe the loss of the dervishes had been. it seemed to the officers that, short as was the range, the effect of rifle fire under such unsatisfactory conditions of light could not have been very great. but the bodies thickly scattered in the scrub were convincing evidences. in one space not much more than a score of yards square lay all the most famous emirs of the once far-reaching dervish domination. the khalifa abdullah, pierced by several balls, was stretched dead on his sheepskin; on his right lay ali-wad-helu, on his left ahmed fedil. before them was a line of lifeless bodyguards; behind them a score of less important chiefs; and behind these, again, a litter of killed and wounded horses. such was the grim spectacle which in the first light of the morning met the eyes of the british officers, to some of whom it meant the conclusion of a perilous task prolonged over many years. and while they looked in astonishment not unmingled with awe, there scrambled unhurt from under a heap of bodies the little emir yunes, of dongola, who added the few links necessary to complete the chain. at omdurman abdullah had remained mounted behind the hill of surgham, but in this his last fight he had set himself in the forefront of the battle. almost at the first discharge, his son osman, the sheikh-ed-din, was wounded, and as he was carried away he urged the khalifa to save himself by flight; but the latter, with a dramatic dignity sometimes denied to more civilised warriors, refused. dismounting from his horse, and ordering his emirs to imitate him, he seated himself on his sheepskin and there determined to await the worst of fortune. and so it came to pass that in this last scene in the struggle with mahdism the stage was cleared of all its striking characters, and osman digna alone purchased by flight a brief ignoble liberty, soon to be followed by a long ignoble servitude. twenty-nine emirs, , fighting men, , women and children surrendered themselves prisoners. the egyptian losses were three killed and twenty-three wounded. . . . . . . . . . . the long story now approaches its conclusion. the river war is over. in its varied course, which extended over fourteen years and involved the untimely destruction of perhaps , lives, many extremes and contrasts have been displayed. there have been battles which were massacres, and others that were mere parades. there have been occasions of shocking cowardice and surprising heroism, of plans conceived in haste and emergency, of schemes laid with slow deliberation, of wild extravagance and cruel waste, of economies scarcely less barbarous, of wisdom and incompetence. but the result is at length achieved, and the flags of england and egypt wave unchallenged over the valley of the nile. at what cost were such advantages obtained? the reader must judge for himself of the loss in men; yet while he deplores the deaths of brave officers and soldiers, and no less the appalling destruction of the valiant arabs, he should remember that such slaughter is inseparable from war, and that, if the war be justified, the loss of life cannot be accused. but i write of the cost in money, and the economy of the campaigns cannot be better displayed than by the table below: railway: £e , , telegraph: £e , gunboats: £e , military expenditure: £e , total expenditures: £e , , (£e = £ s. d.) for something less than two and a half millions sterling active military operations were carried on for nearly three years, involving the employment--far from its base--of an army of , disciplined troops, including an expensive british contingent of , men, and ending in the utter defeat of an enemy whose armed forces numbered at the beginning of the war upwards of , soldiers, and the reconquest and re-occupation of a territory measuring sixteen hundred miles from north to south and twelve hundred from east to west [lieut.-colonel stewart's report: egypt, no. , ], which at one time supported at least twenty millions of inhabitants. but this is not all. of the total £e , , only £e , can be accounted as military expenditure. for the remaining £e , , egypt possesses miles of railway, miles of telegraph, and a flotilla of steamers. the railway will not, indeed, pay a great return upon the capital invested, but it will immediately pay something, and may ultimately pay much. the telegraph is as necessary as the railway to the development of the country; it costs far less, and, when the egyptian system is connected with the south african, it will be a sure source of revenue. lastly, there are the gunboats. the reader cannot have any doubts as to the value of these vessels during the war. never was money better spent on military plant. now that the river operations are over the gunboats discharge the duties of ordinary steamers; and although they are, of course, expensive machines for goods and passenger traffic, they are by no means inefficient. the movement of the troops, their extra pay, the supplies at the end of a long line of communications, the ammunition, the loss by wear and tear of uniforms and accoutrements, the correspondence, the rewards, all cost together less than a million sterling; and for that million egypt has recovered the soudan. the whole £e , , had, however, to be paid during the campaigns. towards this sum great britain advanced, as has been related, £ , as a loan; and this was subsequently converted into a gift. the cost to the british taxpayer of the recovery and part acquisition of the soudan, of the military prestige, and of the indulgence of the sentiment known as 'the avenging of gordon' has therefore been £ , ; and it may be stated in all seriousness that english history does not record any instance of so great a national satisfaction being more cheaply obtained. the rest of the money has been provided by egypt; and this strange country, seeming to resemble the camel, on which so much of her wealth depends, has, in default of the usual sources of supply, drawn upon some fifth stomach for nourishment, and, to the perplexity even of those best acquainted with her amazing financial constitution, has stood the strain. 'the extraordinary expenditure in connection with the soudan campaign,' wrote mr. j.l. gorst, the financial adviser to the khedive in his note of december , [note by the financial adviser on the budget of : egypt, no. , ], 'has been charged to the special reserve fund. at the present moment this fund shows a deficit of £e , , and there are outstanding charges on account of the expedition amounting to £e , , making a total deficit of £e , .' 'on the other hand, the fund will be increased, when the accounts of the year are made up, by a sum of £e , , being the balance of the share of the government in the surplus of , after deduction of the excess administrative expenditure in that year, and by a sum of £e , , being part of the proceeds of the sale of the khedivial postal steamers. the net deficit will, therefore, be £e , ; and if the year is as prosperous as the present year, it may be hoped that the deficit will disappear when the accounts of are closed.' a great, though perhaps academic, issue remains: was the war justified by wisdom and by right? if the reader will look at a map of the nile system, he cannot fail to be struck by its resemblance to a palm-tree. at the top the green and fertile area of the delta spreads like the graceful leaves and foliage. the stem is perhaps a little twisted, for the nile makes a vast bend in flowing through the desert. south of khartoum the likeness is again perfect, and the roots of the tree begin to stretch deeply into the soudan. i can imagine no better illustration of the intimate and sympathetic connection between egypt and the southern provinces. the water--the life of the delta--is drawn from the soudan, and passes along the channel of the nile, as the sap passes up the stem of the tree, to produce a fine crop of fruit above. the benefit to egypt is obvious; but egypt does not benefit alone. the advantages of the connection are mutual; for if the soudan is thus naturally and geographically an integral part of egypt, egypt is no less essential to the development of the soudan. of what use would the roots and the rich soil be, if the stem were severed, by which alone their vital essence may find expression in the upper air? here, then, is a plain and honest reason for the river war. to unite territories that could not indefinitely have continued divided; to combine peoples whose future welfare is inseparably intermingled; to collect energies which, concentrated, may promote a common interest; to join together what could not improve apart--these are the objects which, history will pronounce, have justified the enterprise. the advantage to great britain is no less clear to those who believe that our connection with egypt, as with india, is in itself a source of strength. the grasp of england upon egypt has been strengthened twofold by the events of the war. the joint action and ownership of the two countries in the basin of the upper nile form an additional bond between them. the command of the vital river is an irresistible weapon. the influence of france over the native mind in egypt has been completely destroyed by the result of the fashoda negotiations; and although she still retains the legal power to meddle in and obstruct all financial arrangements, that power, unsupported by real influence, is like a body whence the soul has fled, which may, indeed, be an offensive encumbrance, but must ultimately decompose and crumble into dust. but, apart from any connection with egypt, britain has gained a vast territory which, although it would be easy to exaggerate its value, is nevertheless coveted by every great power in europe. the policy of acquiring large waterways, which has been pursued deliberately or unconsciously by british statesmen for three centuries, has been carried one step further; and in the valley of the nile england may develop a trade which, passing up and down the river and its complement the railway, shall exchange the manufactures of the temperate zone for the products of the tropic of cancer, and may use the north wind to drive civilisation and prosperity to the south and the stream of the nile to bear wealth and commerce to the sea. appendix text of the soudan agreement of the th of january, , and of the declaration of the st of march, agreement between her britannic majesty's government and the government of his highness the khedive of egypt, relative to the future administration of the soudan whereas certain provinces in the soudan which were in rebellion against the authority of his highness the khedive have now been reconquered by the joint military and financial efforts of her britannic majesty's government and the government of his highness the khedive; and whereas it has become necessary to decide upon a system for the administration of and for the making of laws for the said reconquered provinces, under which due allowance may be made for the backward and unsettled condition of large portions thereof, and for the varying requirements of different localities; and whereas it is desired to give effect to the claims which have accrued to her britannic majesty's government, by right of conquest, to share in the present settlement and future working and development of the said system of administration and legislation; and whereas it is conceived that for many purposes wady halfa and suakin may be most effectively administered in conjunction with the reconquered provinces to which they are respectively adjacent: now, it is hereby agreed and declared by and between the undersigned, duly authorised for that purpose, as follows:- art. i. the word 'soudan' in this agreement means all the territories south of the nd parallel of latitude, which: . have never been evacuated by egyptian troops since the year ; or . which having before the late rebellion in the soudan been administered by the government of his highness the khedive, were temporarily lost to egypt, and have been reconquered by her majesty's government and the egyptian government, acting in concert; or . which may hereafter be reconquered by the two governments acting in concert. art. ii. the british and egyptian flags shall be used together, both on land and water, throughout the soudan, except in the town of suakin, in which locality the egyptian flag alone shall be used. art. iii. the supreme military and civil command in the soudan shall be vested in one officer, termed the 'governor-general of the soudan.' he shall be appointed by khedivial decree on the recommendation of her britannic majesty's government, and shall be removed only by khedivial decree, with the consent of her britannic majesty's government. art. iv. laws, as also orders and regulations with the full force of law, for the good government of the soudan, and for regulating the holding, disposal, and devolution of property of every kind therein situate, may from time to time be made, altered, or abrogated by proclamation of the governor-general. such laws, orders, and regulations may apply to the whole or any named part of the soudan, and may, either explicitly or by necessary implication, alter or abrogate any existing law or regulation. all such proclamations shall be forthwith notified to her britannic majesty's agent and consul-general in cairo, and to the president of the council of ministers of his highness the khedive. art. v. no egyptian law, decree, ministerial arrete, or other enactment hereafter to be made or promulgated shall apply to the soudan or any part thereof, save in so far as the same shall be applied by proclamation of the governor-general in manner hereinbefore provided. art. vi. in the definition by proclamation of the conditions under which europeans, of whatever nationality, shall be at liberty to trade with or reside in the soudan, or to hold property within its limits, no special privileges shall be accorded to the subjects of any one or more power. art. vii. import duties on entering the soudan shall not be payable on goods coming from egyptian territory. such duties may, however, be levied on goods coming from elsewhere than egyptian territory; but in the case of goods entering the soudan at suakin, or any other port on the red sea littoral, they shall not exceed the corresponding duties for the time being leviable on goods entering egypt from abroad. duties may be levied on goods leaving the soudan, at such rates as may from time to time be prescribed by proclamation. art. viii. the jurisdiction of the mixed tribunals shall not extend, nor be recognised for any purpose whatsoever, in any part of the soudan, except in the town of suakin. art.ix. until, and save so far as it shall be otherwise determined by proclamation, the soudan, with the exception of the town of suakin, shall be and remain under martial law. art. x. no consuls, vice-consuls, or consular agents shall be accredited in respect of nor allowed to reside in the soudan, without the previous consent of her britannic majesty's government. art. xi. the importation of slaves into the soudan, as also their exportation, is absolutely prohibited. provision shall be made by proclamation for the enforcement of this regulation. art. xii. it is agreed between the two governments that special attention shall be paid to the enforcement of the brussels act of the nd of july, , in respect to the import, sale, and manufacture of fire-arms and their munitions, and distilled or spirituous liquors. done in cairo, the th of january, . signed: bourtros ghali-cromer. declaration relative to the british and french spheres of influence in central africa (signed at london, march st, ) the undersigned, duly authorised by their governments, have signed the following declaration:--the ivth article of the convention of the th of june, , shall be completed by the following provisions, which shall be considered as forming an integral part of it: . her britannic majesty's government engages not to acquire either territory or political influence to the west of the line of frontier defined in the following paragraph, and the government of the french republic engages not to acquire either territory or political influence to the east of the same line. . the line of frontier shall start from the point where the boundary between the congo free state and french territory meets the water-parting between the watershed of the nile and that of the congo and its affluents. it shall follow in principle that water-parting up to its intersection with the th parallel of north latitude. from this point it shall be drawn as far as the th parallel in such manner as to separate, in principle, the kingdom of wadai from what constituted in the province of darfur; but it shall in no case be so drawn as to pass to the west beyond the st degree of longitude east of greenwich ( ° ' east of paris), or to the east beyond the rd degree of longitude east of greenwich ( ° ' east of paris). . it is understood, in principle, that to the north of the th parallel the french zone shall be limited to the north-east and east by a line which shall start from the point of intersection of the tropic of cancer with the th degree of longitude east of greenwich ( ° ' east of paris), shall run thence to the south-east until it meets the th degree of longitude east of greenwich ( ° ' east of paris), and shall then follow the th degree until it meets, to the north of the th parallel of latitude, the frontier of darfur as it shall eventually be fixed. . the two governments engage to appoint commissioners who shall be charged to delimit on the spot a frontier-line in accordance with the indications given in paragraph of this declaration. the result of their work shall be submitted for the approbation of their respective governments. it is agreed that the provisions of article ix of the convention of the th of june, , shall apply equally to the territories situated to the south of the ° ' parallel of north latitude, and to the north of the th parallel of north latitude, between the ° ' meridian of longitude east of greenwich ( th degree east of paris) and the course of the upper nile. done at london, the st of march, . (l.s.) salisbury. (l.s.) paul cambon. none [illustration: father ohrwalder, the sisters catterina chincarini and elisabetta venturini and the slave girl adila from a photograph by stromeyer & heyman, cairo. sampson low, marston & co. ltd.] ten years' captivity in the mahdi's camp - from the original manuscripts of father joseph ohrwalder late priest of the austrian mission station at delen, in kordofan by major f. r. wingate, r.a. director of military intelligence, egyptian army; author of 'mahdiism and the egyptian sudan' _with maps and illustrations by walter c. horsley_ third edition london sampson low, marston & company _limited_ =st. dunstan's house= fetter lane, fleet street, e.c. (_all rights reserved._) london: printed by william clowes and sons, limited, stamford street and charing cross. preface. [illustration: father ohrwalder.] after the fall of khartum in january , various attempts were from time to time made to effect the release of some of the european prisoners who had fallen into the mahdi's hands during the early stages of the sudan revolt. these attempts were for the most part attended with little result. the causes of their failure, and eventual success in one instance, are fully described in the following personal narrative of father ohrwalder. as father ohrwalder is the first european who has escaped from the sudan since , i was fully occupied with him during the few days immediately following his arrival in ascertaining, for official purposes, the actual situation in the sudan, and that completed, we had many interesting conversations on the historical events which had occurred in these revolted districts during the last ten years. having but recently completed a _resumé_ of these events,[a] which had been largely compiled from the statements of natives who had escaped, i was not unnaturally desirous to verify, by the independent witness of father ohrwalder, the accounts which they had given, and i further begged father ohrwalder to carefully read over the book and point out the errors. it was with considerable satisfaction that i learnt from him that the facts had been faithfully recorded; but the flood of light which he was enabled to throw on many obscure passages, and the great interest attaching to the narrative of an active participator in so many of these now historic occurrences, induced me to suggest that he should set to work, while the memory of these events was fresh in his mind, to write a personal narrative of his varied and terrible experiences, of which the general public have hitherto learnt but the bare outline. it should be borne in mind that the circumstances under which father ohrwalder lived in the sudan precluded him from keeping any written record of his life; it was therefore agreed that i should supervise his work which, i need scarcely add, it has given me great pleasure to do. father ohrwalder's manuscript, which was in the first instance written in german, was roughly translated into english by yusef effendi cudzi, a syrian; this i entirely rewrote in narrative form. the work does not therefore profess to be a literal translation of the original manuscript, but rather an english version, in which i have sought to reproduce accurately father ohrwalder's meaning in the language of simple narration. england and the british public in general have shown so much interest in the stirring events which have occurred in the sudan, and in which many gallant british officers and men have lost their lives, that it is father ohrwalder's desire that the narrative of his experiences should be published in the first instance in england, as his modest tribute to the nation which struggled so gallantly, and so nearly successfully, to effect the relief of khartum and the rescue of those unfortunate europeans who, like himself, had fallen into the hands of a cruel and merciless enemy. it seems almost incredible that such sufferings as the european captives endured did not long ago bring to them the happy release of death they so ardently longed for; but it was not to be. the door of escape, which they had thought closed to them for ever, suddenly opened, and they did not fear to risk the dangers and perils of that terrible desert journey, with scanty food and water, and the sure knowledge that they must ride for bare life; re-capture would have ended in certain death, or, at best, perpetual incarceration in a prison, the horrors of which beggar description. in spite, however, of all he has endured, father ohrwalder longs for the time when it may be possible for him to return to the sudan and continue the mission work so suddenly and hopelessly interrupted since . i am greatly indebted to mr. walter c. horsley for the admirable manner in which he has executed his portion of the illustrations. the remainder are chiefly from photographs, taken by mr. lekegian in his photographic studio in cairo, of dervish prisoners captured at the action of toski, and of refugees who have recently reached cairo from equatoria, through the territory administered by the imperial british east africa company. f. r. wingate. cairo, _ th july, _. footnotes: [a] published under the title of 'mahdiism and the egyptian sudan.' london: macmillan & co. . contents. introduction. father ohrwalder's journey to the sudan. page description of kordofan and dar nuba--the mission station at delen chapter i. the mahdi and his rise to power. the rise of the mahdi--early successes--personal appearance --his khalifas described--military organization--makes new laws--he summons el obeid to surrender chapter ii. father ohrwalder and his companions taken captive. the storm rises in dar nuba--the baggara begin to raid-- khojur kakum of delen--mek omar besieges delen--the slave guard deserts the mission--the priests and nuns surrender-- they are sent to the mahdi chapter iii. the missionaries and the mahdi. description of el obeid--said pasha's system of defence-- the mahdi's followers encircle the town--townspeople desert to the mahdi--unsuccessful attack on government buildings --dervishes driven off with loss of , men--the missionaries brought before the mahdi--threatened with death--preparations for the execution--reprieved at the last moment--the mahdi's camp described--death of some of the missionaries--illness of remainder chapter iv. the siege of el obeid. terrible sufferings of the besieged--the kababish--fall of bara--fall of el obeid--the mahdi enters the town--fate of the el obeid mission--cold-blooded murder of the brave defenders--the dervishes live a life of ease in el obeid-- the mahdi makes laws--he sends out proclamations--prestige increased by capture of town--news from khartum--bonomi and ohrwalder summoned before the mahdi--the interview chapter v. the mahdi's victory over hicks pasha. the european captives learn that general hicks is advancing--slatin bey's defence of darfur--his heroism-- the mahdi prepares to resist hicks--the march of the hicks expedition--extracts from the diary of major herlth--colonel farquhar's gallantry at rahad--gustav klootz deserts to the mahdi--klootz's interview with the mahdi in which ohrwalder and bonomi act as interpreters--the expedition advances towards shekan--is surrounded and annihilated--description of the battle--the mahdi victor of kordofan chapter vi. the mahdi's triumphal entry into el obeid. fall of darfur--slatin surrenders--the mahdi's divinity credited after the annihilation of hicks--king adam of tagalla--stambuli's kindness to the european captives-- gordon writes to the mahdi--power's letter--the sisters seized and distributed amongst the emirs--they are tortured--the missionaries turned into slaves--the terrible journey to rahad--the greeks come to the help of the sisters--the proclamation concerning the treatment of priests and hermits by mohammedans--the mahdi at rahad-- ohrwalder's interviews with the mahdi concerning religion --the dervishes attack the nubas chapter vii. father ohrwalder's views of gordon's mission. ohrwalder describes his treatment at the hands of various masters--the nubas surrender and afterwards desert--news from khartum--the capture of the english mail--its arrival at the mahdi's camp--the mahdi decides to advance on khartum--brief review of events in khartum and berber--ohrwalder's views on gordon's mission--the mahdi sets out for khartum--mohammed ali pasha's defeat and death--colonel stewart, mr. power, and others leave khartum in ss. "abbas"--description of their wreck and treacherous murder chapter viii. the siege and fall of khartum. the surrender of omdurman fort--gordon's dispositions for defence--his great personal influence--the night before the assault--the attack and entry of the dervishes --gordon's death--the adventures of domenico polinari-- the massacre in khartum--how most of the europeans died --ruthless cruelty and bloodshed--the fate of the wives and daughters of khartum--ohrwalder's views on the situation in khartum and the chances of relief by the british expeditionary force--his description of the town three months after the fall chapter ix. the mahdi's last days. ohrwalder's criticisms on certain events connected with the defence of khartum--the sudan devastated by small-pox --the mahdi gives way to a life of pleasure--description of his harem life--the mahdi sickens and dies--the effect on his followers--the khalifa abdullah succeeds--party strife and discord--abdullah prevails--events in sennar and kassala chapter x. the escape of father bonomi. ohrwalder continues to describe his personal experiences -- mahmud the emir of el obeid--his unsuccessful attempts to entrap the nubas--the arrival of olivier pain in el obeid--his motives in joining the mahdi--his journey towards omdurman--his sad fate--lupton bey arrives at el obeid from the bahr el ghazal--he is sent to omdurman and thrown into chains--life in el obeid--the escape of father bonomi--ohrwalder's solitude--the death of the khojur kakum chapter xi. revolt against the dervishes. the black soldiers of the old sudan army--they revolt against the dervishes in el obeid--and march off to dar nuba--the emir mahmud pursues and is slain--ohrwalder quits el obeid for omdurman--zogal and abu anga at bara chapter xii. ohrwalder's impressions of omdurman. ohrwalder's arrival in omdurman--his first impressions of the dervish capital--khalifa abdullah's intentions to conquer egypt--wad suleiman of the beit el mal--wad adlan succeeds--gordon's clothes, medals, &c.--adlan reorganizes the beit el mal--the slave market, museum, mint, and system of coinage--counterfeit coining--the lithograph press--the khalifa's system of justice chapter xiii. the khalifa decides to conquer abyssinia. events subsequent to the fall of khartum--capture of gedaref and galabat--dervishes defeated by abyssinians at galabat--abu anga's victorious expedition to tagalla --his triumphal return to omdurman--the khalifa's grand review--destruction of the gehena tribe--the khalifa decides to send abu anga's army to conquer abyssinia--the battle of dabra sin--abu anga sacks gondar--the victorious dervishes return to galabat-- rejoicings at omdurman chapter xiv. king john of abyssinia killed in battle. destruction of the kababish tribe and death of saleh bey--events in darfur--revolt of abu gemaizeh--his death and destruction of his army--rabeh zubeir--king theodore's son visits omdurman--the conspiracy of "sayidna isa"--death of abu anga--king john of abyssinia attacks galabat--success of abyssinians, but the king killed--victory turned to defeat--the king's head sent to omdurman chapter xv. defeat of nejumi at toski, and of osman digna at tokar. the khalifa's intentions regarding egypt--wad en nejumi despatched north--various operations on the egyptian frontier--battle of toski--defeat and death of nejumi-- subsequent events in dongola--osman digna's operations against sawakin--is defeated at tokar--emin pasha and events in equatoria--recent events in uganda and unyoro chapter xvi. the famine at omdurman-- - . ohrwalder describes omdurman--the mahdi's tomb, and how it was built--pilgrimage to mecca forbidden--a description of the great mosque--the khalifa's palace--the markets-- the population--the khalifa's tyrannical rule--the terrible famine of - --awful scenes and sufferings--the plague of locusts chapter xvii. the khalifa and his government. the khalifa's system of government--his household--an outline of his character--his system of prayers in the mosque--his visions and dreams--his espionage system--his household troops--his great activity and circumspection-- the great friday review described--the emigration of the baggara and western tribes to omdurman--the flight of sheikh ghazali--management of the beit el mal--system of taxation chapter xviii. a chapter of horrors. the revolt of the batahin tribe--revolt suppressed with appalling cruelty--wholesale executions--method of hanging--punishment by mutilation--the execution of abdel nur--trade with egypt--wad adlan the emin beit el mal--his imprisonment and death chapter xix. social life at omdurman. system of public security and justice in omdurman--the court of small causes--bribery and corruption--the story of the slave and her mistress--how the khalifa deals with quarrelsome persons--thieves and pickpockets-- the story of zogheir--usurers and their trade--the chief of police--brigandage--disproportion of males to females in omdurman--how the khalifa overcame the difficulty-- immorality--the marriage ceremony chapter xx. the khalifa's treatment of the white captives. description of the prison, or "saier"--the "abu haggar" --the imprisonment of charles neufeld--terrible sufferings of the prisoners--domenico polinari--the danger of corresponding with the european prisoners-- neufeld threatened with death--he is given charge of the saltpetre pits--the fate of sheikh khalil, the egyptian envoy--the khalifa's treatment of the "whites"--exile to the white nile chapter xxi. lupton bey and the ammunition. the khalifa's powder and ammunition begin to fail--lupton bey makes fulminate--unsuccessful attempts to make powder --yusef pertekachi at last succeeds--the explosion in the powder factory chapter xxii. agriculture and commerce in the mahdi's kingdom. remarks on the agriculture and commerce of the mahdiist kingdom--a sandstorm in omdurman--the paucity of cattle-- system of taxation on imports--provincial beit el mals-- local manufactures--slavery and the slave-markets--torture of slaves chapter xxiii. the baggara masters of the sudan. relations between abdullah and the rival khalifas-- mahdiism practically dead--the khalifa's son osman--his marriage to yakub's daughter--his intentions regarding the succession--the baggara and the aulad-belad--the baggara masters of the sudan--examples of their tyranny --emigration of the rizighat tribe--hostility between the khalifa's and the late mahdi's households--the ashraf conspiracy--witchcraft--the dispute between the khalifas--riots in omdurman--the mahdi's widows chapter xxiv. preparations for the flight. ohrwalder forms plans for escape--the fate of other europeans attempting to fly--stricter surveillance-- ohrwalder's means of livelihood--letters from cairo-- the faithful ahmed hassan discloses his plan--archbishop sogaro--miseries of captivity in omdurman--death of sister concetta corsi--preparations for flight chapter xxv. on camels across the great nubian desert. father ohrwalder and sisters venturini and chincarini escape--the ride for life--the rencontre with the dervish guard near abu hamed--alarm of the party--the journey across the great nubian desert--five hundred miles on camel-back in seven days--arrival at the egyptian outpost at murat--safe at last--arrival in cairo chapter xxvi. the present khalifa's despotism in the sudan. reflections on the situation in the sudan--the horrors of the present khalifa's rule--how long shall it continue? list of illustrations, map and plan. page father ohrwalder, sisters venturini and chincarini, and their servant adila (_frontispiece_). zubeir pasha a native woman of dongola hicks pasha colonel arthur farquhar (chief of staff) a baggara emir, present at the annihilation of the hicks expedition, and afterwards captured at toski father ohrwalder's interview with the mahdi at rahad, concerning religion the gold medal struck by gordon to commemorate the siege of khartum a dervish emir present in the attack on khartum, and afterwards captured at toski an egyptian harem woman "many a time did i turn round to look back, until bonomi disappeared from view in the wood" a slave woman from equatoria abyssinian dancing girls an arab sheikh of upper egypt bishir bey, sheikh of the ababdeh arabs wad en nejumi (from a photograph of a drawing made by an egyptian officer of the great emir, as he lay dead on the field of toski) a native woman of makaraka, the wife of one of emin pasha's officers, who reached egypt from uganda in june a trophy of arms, banners, and drums, captured from the dervishes charles neufeld a slave girl from equatoria a baggara woman the arab guides who effected the escape of father ohrwalder and the sisters "we had scarcely gone twenty paces from the river, when suddenly we heard the sound of a camel" plan of omdurman. map of the nile basin, showing route taken by father ohrwalder. ten years' captivity in the mahdi's camp. - . introduction. father ohrwalder's journey to the sudan. description of kordofan and dar nuba--the mission station at delen. i left cairo on the th of december, , as full of bright hopes for a happy future as any young man could wish to be. i had no thought of the miserable fate which was so soon to overtake me. our party consisted of bishop comboni, two missionaries, johann dichtl and franz pimezzoni (these three have long since passed into eternity), and several sisters. we embarked at suez, and spent the first day of on the red sea. on the th of january we landed at sawakin. at that time the governor of the town was ala ed din pasha, who subsequently accompanied general hicks as governor-general of the sudan, and was eventually killed with him. after a journey of twenty-eight days and travelling _viâ_ berber, we reached khartum; here the pleasant gardens and shady groves of date-palms impressed us most favourably. standing on the high river bank, just in front of the mission gardens, were the various members of the mission, headed by father alois bonomi, also the austrian consul hansal and the italian consul legnani, who gave us a hearty welcome. the whole city was _en fête_, to celebrate the return of the governor-general rauf pasha from gedaref. after landing, we walked through the lovely garden towards the mission buildings, and here, in the principal parlour, were collected rauf pasha, giegler pasha, gessi pasha, who had just returned quite worn out from his campaigns in the bahr el ghazal; the courageous slatin, fresh from darfur; marcopoli bey, doctor zurbuchen, marquet, the african traveller jean maria schuver, and many others who had come to welcome bishop comboni on his arrival. on the th of march we celebrated the fiftieth birthday of bishop comboni with general rejoicings: in the evening the european colony dined at the mission, and then followed a _soirée_. little did we think of the terrible fate that was in store for the majority of those gathered together on that happy evening! in the meantime slatin bey had been appointed governor-general of darfur, and he considered it his duty to proceed as soon as possible to take up his new post. our bishop accepted slatin's proffered invitation to travel together as far as el obeid, and on the th of march we embarked on a steamer placed at our disposal by rauf pasha and proceeded to tur el hadra. we were accompanied thus far by marcopoli bey, dr. zurbuchen and marquet, and here, mounting on camels, we made a rapid march across the kordofan deserts, arriving at el obeid on the th of april. no sooner had we dismounted, than two telegrams were handed to us: one announced the sudden death, on his return to khartum, of dr. zurbuchen, and the other described the death of the czar alexander of russia at the hands of the nihilists. we remained at el obeid while slatin was making arrangements for his journey to darfur. bishop comboni then made a tour through jebel nuba, returned to el obeid and subsequently to khartum, where he died on the th of october. god, in his mercy, took him away so that he should not behold the terrible events in the sudan which followed soon after his death. i left el obeid on the th of november, , and reached delen in dar nuba on the th of december. i was most favourably impressed with the nuba country. whilst kordofan is merely an extensive plain with little change of scenery, dar nuba presents an entirely different aspect. here chains of picturesque hills, running in various directions, rise out of the plain, interspersed with numerous watercourses. jebel delen, on which our mission station was situated, is one of the smallest of the hills. the other principal groups are naïma, kurun, dobab, dair, kedaro, tagalla, gedir, and tira, in which gold is found, besides a number of smaller hills. it is estimated that in all there are upwards of one hundred inhabited mountains. the intervening plains and valleys are rich in vegetation of every description; trees of colossal dimensions are found, more especially in the khors (the beds of perennial streams), and the thick luxuriant growth is so dense that the rays of the sun cannot penetrate. the soil is exceptionally fertile and rain abundant, consequently for six months in the year the density of the undergrowth makes it almost impossible to traverse these rich valleys; but when the rains are over and the grass becomes dry, it is generally fired, and thus the plains and valleys become passable again. a quantity of the rain from these hills flows into lake birket, some passes also into the khor abu habl, which becomes lost in the sand before it reaches the white nile. the rain from the southern nuba hills finds its way into the bahr el arab. the plains abound with quantities of deer, giraffe, antelope, and wild boar, whilst the woods contain myriads of birds of lovely plumage, and apes and monkeys of every description. during the winter season, elephants were frequently to be seen in the neighbourhood of delen, which also abounds with snakes, amongst which the boa-constrictor is not uncommon. the population of dar nuba, which at one time was considerable, does not now exceed , ; the scattered sub-tribes of baggara, who roam the plains with the bederieh and ghodiat arabs, have decimated the nubas, and forced those that are left to fly to their mountain recesses, where they eke out a wretched existence, their protection being the inaccessible nature of their retreats. i found the nubas a pleasant and well-disposed people; indeed, they have the reputation in the sudan of being the best of all the negroid races; they cultivate only sufficient quantities of corn, sesame, and beans to serve for their livelihood; whilst the wild fruits and vegetables of their country are so plentiful as to furnish almost sufficient food for their maintenance should they be unable to cultivate. they possess numbers of goats and cattle which supply them with milk and butter; they are much addicted to drinking marissa (a kind of beer made from dhurra), and great quantities of this beverage are consumed at their feasts, principally at the feast known as zubeir. on this occasion men and women drink and dance together; but notwithstanding this unusual familiarity, i never saw anything which might be considered an outrage to society. with the exception of the khojur, of whom i shall presently speak, and the head sheikh, monogamy is practised. the nubas are governed entirely by their own traditional laws and customs, the khojur only intervening in case of necessity. the khojur is in reality a sort of religious chief, whose power over the people depends entirely on his skilfulness and sagacity. during the time i was in this neighbourhood the khojur was a certain kakum, known as "kakum of delen." only a short time had elapsed since the egyptian government had made a settlement at delen. a company of sudanese soldiers, under the command of a captain who was appointed for the suppression of the slave-trade, had been recently quartered there, and they were also charged with the protection of our mission station. i was very happy in delen, where i found a variety of pursuits to occupy my time. i amused myself in collecting insects, of which i soon had a large selection. i also skinned birds and snakes. the various modes of nuba life and cultivation were, moreover, an immense interest to me, and the presentation of a few glass beads enabled me to secure many strange objects in return. the natives used to roar with laughter when they saw me examining with interest the curious insects they brought me. we had quite a colony of blacks in the mission, and as the number increased, it became necessary to enlarge the accommodation, so we began to make and burn bricks; we obtained lime from the saburi mountain (i may here say the nubas gave us this information) and the doleb-palm supplied us with plenty of wood. assisted by father bonomi, our carpenter gabriel mariani built a four-wheeled cart, which we drove with two strong mules. we worked along cheerfully and full of hope. we turned out some , good bricks. our blacks were quite contented; far removed from the corruption and temptation of the towns, they kept steadily to their work, and tilled their own little patches of ground; everything was going well, and we anticipated great results. but suddenly our tranquillity was disturbed. early in april , there were perceptible at delen the first murmurings of the terrible storm which was to deluge the entire sudan with blood, and to bring misfortune and calamity on the land and on our happy mission; but these events i will describe in the following pages. chapter i. the mahdi and his rise to power. the rise of the mahdi--early successes--personal appearance--his khalifas described--military organization--makes new laws--he summons el obeid to surrender. a few years previous to the time of which i speak, an individual who called himself a dervish had attracted people's attention. he wandered through the sudan in the garb of a dervish, and strove to rouse the moslems to religious fanaticism. he urged that reality no longer existed in the religion; faith was becoming of no account, and this religious decadence was due to a luxurious mode of life and contact with christians. a number of influential sheikhs and merchants took up his cause, and these he made to swear to remain faithful and true to him. at this time at el obeid there was a certain said el mek, who had the reputation of being a holy man, and the dervish did all in his power to induce him to espouse his cause. said el mek urged that religion had not fallen into such disrepute, and that all would be well if more mosques were built; but the dervish, with threats that if he refused to join him he would compass his destruction, extracted from him a promise to keep his plans secret. he then prepared the way by continuing his wanderings, preaching everywhere against the oppression of the turk and the decadence of the true moslem faith. under the very nose of the government he collected a small body of faithful adherents, set off with them for the island of abba on the white nile, and there openly declared himself. rumours that he intended to raise the people to revolt reached khartum. at this time rauf pasha was governor-general; he sent a noted khartum townsman named abu saud to abba, with instructions to invite the dervish to come and see the governor-general. abu saud nearly succeeded in his mission, and had it not been for the advice of one of his adherents, ahmed sharfi, it is probable that the dervish would have accepted the invitation. rauf pasha, on learning of his refusal to obey the summons, despatched two companies of troops to abba island at the end of july , with instructions to bring the dervish forcibly to khartum. the two captains of the companies had a difference of opinion, and, landing the troops in a most careless manner, they were drawn on by the adherents of the dervish into a marshy swamp, where they were fallen upon and a number of them killed with simple sticks. ahmed sharfi himself told me this. only a very few succeeded in escaping and returning to the steamer, in which they made their way back to khartum. this episode caused great excitement. i was at el obeid when it happened, and giegler pasha, who was also there at the time, told me about it. giegler despatched mohammed said pasha to the white nile with orders to prevent the dervish from escaping south; but said pasha soon afterwards returned, having done nothing; probably he did not dare to attack the rebels. in the meantime the dervish quitted abba, and succeeded in reaching tagalla in safety; thence he proceeded to jebel gedir, and located himself at the foot of that mountain. the natives of this district are called kawakla, and dwell on the top of the mountain; they are possessors of a very celebrated and holy stone, on which there is a tradition the prophet mohammed sat and prayed. here the dervish mohammed ahmed now took up his abode, and waited to see what action the government intended to take. at delen the news of this dervish was very meagre, though there was much talk of his wonderful miracles, the most important of which was said to be his power to change the bullets of the government troops into water. his repute as a worker of miracles grew rapidly, and was the cause of largely increasing the number of his adherents. the malcontents, runaway slaves, criminals evading justice, and religious fanatics, hurried to gedir; but perhaps the bulk of his adherents were men who lived by theft and robbery, and who were the main supporters of the movement. to all, the dervish gave promises of enormous shares of loot and everlasting happiness in the world to come. but it was to the slave-dealers that mohammed appeared in the light of a saviour, and it was to them that he owed his subsequent success. [illustration: zubeir pasha.] from the time that gessi pasha put an end to the slave-trade in the bahr el ghazal by conquering suleiman, the son of zubeir pasha, and dispersing his forces--as gessi had often related to me--numbers of these runaway slave-dealers (as they afterwards assured me) owed their ruin to him. these men were all warriors, accustomed to every description of hardship, well trained in the use of firearms, and from their constant slave-fights well accustomed to war; they flocked in numbers to the dervish, and he gave them elaborate promises of quantities of booty and a complete resumption of the slave-trade. mohammed ahmed had the power of inspiring these men with an extraordinary amount of fanatical ardour, so much so, indeed, as we shall presently see, that they would not hesitate to rush into certain death at one word from him. he would compare these men with the government troops, and prove how far inferior were these latter; and, on the other hand, the government troops made the fatal mistake of underrating their enemies, and conducting their operations with a complete disregard for the wary foes with whom they had to deal. what more obvious example of this blind self-confidence can there be than in the miserable defeat of rashid bey, mudir of fashoda, who, without any instructions, advanced against the dervishes, and was cut to pieces on the th of december, ? rashid bey--so an eye-witness told me--was drawn into the middle of a forest, and there he and his men were massacred, before they could even alight from their camels, so completely taken by surprise were they. thus the dervishes gained an important and decisive victory, with, comparatively speaking, no loss at all. the german berghof, inspector for the suppression of slavery at fashoda, also fell in this fight. what wonder is it that such successes as these strengthened the belief of the people that the mahdi could turn egyptian bullets into water! this victory gave enormous impetus to the cause; not only was a quantity of arms, ammunition, and stores captured, but mohammed ahmed's moral influence was greatly increased. he was now believed in as the true mahdi; men flocked to his standard from all parts, and were ready and willing to lay down their lives in his cause. mohammed ahmed wad el bedri, one of the mahdi's favourite and early adherents, told me that it was the latter's intention to proceed to dar fertit, and there organise an extensive revolt against the government; but elias pasha, a jaali, and former mudir of el obeid, urged him against this. elias pasha was a bitter enemy of mohammed said pasha, and of ahmed bey dafallah, one of the principal merchants of el obeid, and he took this opportunity to wreak his vengeance on them. he fully convinced the mahdi of the inability of the garrison of el obeid to offer any prolonged resistance, as the troops were few in number, and he could count on all the inhabitants joining him. it was this advice that caused the mahdi to turn his attention to kordofan. during all this time the number of the mahdi's followers was continually increasing, and the government at length decided to send an expedition against him. on the th of march, , yussef pasha esh shellali, formerly gessi's second in command in his campaign against suleiman zubeir, left khartum for the south, in command of some , men, a large number of whom deserted on the march. about the middle of may, however, he left fashoda, and advanced towards gedir. at the same time another expedition under abdullah, brother of ahmed bey dafallah and osman, started from el obeid. this force was composed entirely of volunteers, whom it had taken almost a month to collect, the noggara beating night and day as a summons to arms. they were badly armed, and in spite of abdullah's well-known bravery, the expedition left with little hope of success. besides, an event happened which filled the men with gloomy forebodings. just as the troops were starting, abdullah fell from his horse, and, according to sudan superstition, such an untoward event is always a sign that the expedition will meet with misfortunes. abdullah effected a junction with yussef pasha, and the combined force reached gedir, where they entrenched themselves in a zariba near the base of the mountain. a body of rebels, noiselessly approaching by night, succeeded unobserved in dragging away some of the thorns forming the zariba, and in the early morning the dervishes, with fearful yells, broke in and threw themselves on the troops, who, scared by the suddenness of the attack, offered little resistance; they were soon overcome, and fell a prey to the deadly dervish spears. abdullah alone made a gallant stand, and fought with desperate bravery, but he too fell at last. a few only succeeded in escaping to fashoda, and emin bey, who was there at the time, on his way to the equatorial province, was the first to receive the sad news. the account of this massacre, which took place on the th of june, , was described to us by an eye-witness. and now the mahdi determined to lay siege to el obeid, a step which was hailed with satisfaction by all his followers. large numbers of dar hamd, ghodiat, and bederieh arabs collected at birket, which in winter-time becomes a large lake, round which are clustered numerous villages. in july , mohammed said pasha sent major nesim and osman, the brother of abdullah who was killed at gedir, with a force of , men, with orders to disperse the arabs. after a stubborn resistance the arabs were defeated by nesim, but the latter suffered heavily, and osman was amongst the killed. nesim afterwards returned to el obeid. meanwhile the various military stations in kordofan were falling one by one into the mahdi's hands. in july fiki rahma, at the head of the gowameh arabs, assaulted and took ashaf and razed it to the ground. here terrible atrocities were committed; not a woman was spared; even those with child were ripped open and the unborn infant impaled on a lance. on the th of august shat was captured and destroyed by wad makashif. fiki minneh stormed and took tayara, putting all the inhabitants to the sword. bara and el obeid were now the only towns left in the whole province of kordofan over which the egyptian flag was still flying; and these two places were gradually being invested, while within lurked the spirit of treachery, and the mahdi propaganda was being secretly instilled into not unwilling minds. at el obeid, elias pasha was the most active agent, and it was to him that the mahdi had consigned the medals, watches, and other valuables captured at gedir, with orders to sell them in el obeid. the mahdi now became a man whose very name was a terror to the egyptians. the way to el obeid lay open before him, and when he saw how rapidly he had risen to power, there is no doubt he really believed himself to be the true mahdi, divinely sent by god to carry out this great revolution, and the fulsome flattery of his numerous adherents must have confirmed him in this idea. here a few remarks on the mahdi's antecedents may not be out of place. mohammed ahmed belonged to the race of people known as the danagla--_i.e._ inhabitants of dongola--who are notorious in the sudan as being the cleverest and most determined of the slave-dealers. on the white nile and in the bahr el ghazal they had built numerous zaribas, and it was through their means that this country became first known. in darfur they always occupied the position of chief ministers or vazirs to the sultans; even to the present day the prime minister of the sultan of borgo is a dongolawi. in spite, however, of their capacity, the danagla were rather despised throughout the sudan, and it was only subsequently that they were created ashraf (or noble) by the mahdi. mohammed ahmed's age was estimated at his death to have been about forty-five, he must therefore have been born about the year . it appears that his father came into the sudan when quite a young man, and sent his son to the mesit or kuran school at kererri, and, from what i have heard, there is no doubt that the young mohammed ahmed showed signs of a violently fanatical nature at quite an early age. after the fall of el obeid, his former teacher came to see him, and was received with great solemnity by his early pupil, who at once arranged that he should receive a monthly salary. mohammed ahmed's early youth was spent in learning the kuran; later on he led the life of a dervish, moving about from place to place, distributing amulets, and writing on little slips of paper mysterious words, which were supposed to protect the wearer against all the ills and diseases to which human beings are liable. through constant study, and by leading the life of an ascetic, he acquired a facility of speech which obtained for him a great reputation amongst the uneducated and superstitious classes in which he moved. before he openly declared himself, he retired for some time to a cave, where he gave himself up entirely to prayer. his repute for sanctity was so great that sailing vessels and even government steamers stopped to ask his blessing on their journey; in return for which he received many valuable gifts. as i have already said, it was not till after he had prepared the ground by his itinerant preaching that he openly declared himself. his outward appearance was strangely fascinating; he was a man of strong constitution, very dark complexion, and his face always wore a pleasant smile, to which he had by long practice accustomed himself. under this smile gleamed a set of singularly white teeth, and between the two upper middle ones was a v-shaped space, which in the sudan is considered a sign that the owner will be lucky. his mode of conversation too had by training become exceptionally pleasant and sweet. as a messenger of god, he pretended to be in direct communication with the deity. all orders which he gave were supposed to have come to him by inspiration, and it became therefore a sin to refuse to obey them; disobedience to the mahdi's orders was tantamount to resistance to the will of god, and was therefore punishable by death. he called himself mahdi khalifat er rasul (_i.e._ the successor of the prophet), while his adherents called him "sayid" (_i.e._ master); sayidna el mahdi (_i.e._ our master the mahdi), or sayidna el imam (_i.e._ our master the head, or one who goes in front). the mahdi in his every action endeavoured to imitate and follow in the exact footsteps of the prophet. thus he made his hejira or flight to gedir, and there appointed his four khalifas. the first of these was the khalifa abdullah, who assumed the title of khalifa abu bakr, or khalifa es sadik; he belonged to the taisha section of the baggara tribe, and it was through his influence that the taisha, rizighat and homr baggaras were won over to the mahdi's cause. it was agreed that khalifa abdullah should, in the event of the mahdi's death, succeed. the second khalifa was ali wad helu, the chief of the powerful degheim and kenana tribes, who also largely contributed to the mahdi's success. the third was ali esh sherif, a dongolawi, and son-in-law of the mahdi; the title of sherif, or noble, was given to him as being a member of the mahdi's family; he was the representative of the gellabas (or traders), and of the inhabitants of gezireh,[b] berber, and dongola. ali sherif was in reality the last khalifa, for a fourth was never appointed. the mahdi asked the son of sheikh senussi, as by his influence he thought to win over egypt, but he refused the honour, and in consequence no one else was nominated to fill the place, though strenuous efforts were made by the more ambitious adherents to secure this much-coveted position; and it is needless to add that several who sought the honour were relegated to prison as possible rivals. the khalifa abdullah is now about forty-three years of age, has a dark copper-coloured complexion, much marked by small-pox, an intelligent face, and is a man of great energy. he is gifted by nature with common sense, but he has had no education, and can neither read nor write. the khalifa ali is rather short, and if he were only a little taller would pass for a good-looking man; he has a ruddy complexion, and wears a large beard; he was educated at the el azhar university in cairo, and has a considerable knowledge of islam theology. he is at present under forty years of age, and should succeed abdullah. the khalifa sherif is not at present more than twenty-one years of age. these three khalifas were the commanders-in-chief of the army, of which each section had its own special distinctions, whilst the mahdi himself had no distinctive military insignia--neither flag nor drum. each khalifa had his own jehadieh, or regular troops, his cavalry and lance-bearers, all from the tribe to which he himself belongs; each had also his own distinctive flag; abdullah's the raya zerga, or black flag; ali's the raya el hamra, or red flag; and sherif's the raya el hadra, or green flag; each khalifa had in addition his own war-drums made of brass, and which were therefore called "nahas," in contradistinction to the ordinary drums known as "noggara," which are made of wood, over which a piece of skin is tightly stretched; the khalifa abdullah had also the onbaïa, a very powerful wind instrument made of an elephant's tusk, hollowed out, and which when blown has a very loud and impressive sound. the whole of the mahdi's troops were thus divided into three sections under their respective flags, and each khalifa was in actual command of his section. the mahdi and sherif represented the gellabas, who are known, in contradistinction to the baggara, as aulad-belad (country people), and aulad-bahr (river people), because they dwell on the banks of the nile; whilst khalifa abdullah and ali wad helu represented the baggara, _i.e._ the arabs. the former of these two parties was the most capable as well as the most numerous, but, as we shall presently see, khalifa abdullah's party, through their leader's immense energy, gained the ascendency. each khalifa has numbers of emirs under him, all of whom have their different flags. these banners are quite simple and require no great labour; they are made of varied colours, and on each the moslem creed is written, with the addition of the words: "mohammed ahmed el mahdi khalifat er rasul" (_i.e._ "the successor of the prophet"). this is specially directed against the sultan of turkey, who claims this title. latterly flags were made to represent certain stated numbers of men; for instance, in the early days of the revolt, abderrahman en nejumi was designated emir el umara (or emir of emirs), because in the first instance he commanded from , to , men, and secondly, these men received a regular rate of pay, which in reality found its way into the emirs' pockets; but latterly many of the emirs command only fifty men. each emir is assisted by several mukuddums, or under officers, and each mukuddum also has his assistant. thus did the mahdi organise the force which was to conquer the sudan. he had absolutely no knowledge or system of drill, but he had men in abundance; and taking the proverb, "nekhrib ed dunia wa nammir el akher" (_i.e._ "we shall destroy this and create the next world") as his motto, he thought not of sparing the lives of his men, but rather urged that by dying they should go direct to paradise. his plan, therefore, was to attack in overwhelming numbers with wild shouts, and to be regardless of all loss. later on, at abu kru in the bayuda desert, they yelled so furiously in the hope that they would alarm the english, that their commander, nur angara, tried to make them desist, by telling them that if they continued shouting much longer, the english would laugh at them. in spite, however, of his bold tactics, the mahdi did not hesitate to practise every possible deception and falsehood--indeed, most of his early successes were secured by these means. at the commencement of the revolt the use of firearms was forbidden; sticks and lances formed the only arms, as it was the mahdi's intention in this instance also to follow directly in the footsteps of the prophet who had gained all his victories without firearms. the mahdi, however, whilst thus preparing for war, did not relax in any degree his religious fervour. his primary object was to be a religious reformer, and to preach that to him was confided the task of bringing back the religion now polluted by the turks, to its original purity. he therefore formulated many severe orders. the use of alcoholic drinks, to which the sudanese are much addicted, was entirely forbidden, and any infringement of this order was punished by sixty blows with the kurbash. smoking and chewing tobacco, a custom much in vogue amongst the sudanese, was also strictly forbidden; and the use of hashish, to which the turks and egyptians were addicted, was entirely prohibited; disobedience to this order was punishable by eighty lashes. death often ensued before the punishment could be completed, but the full number of lashes was always given. if any one lived through his punishment he was considered purified both externally and internally. any harmless word of abuse, such as "kelb" (dog), was punishable with twenty-seven lashes. this punishment went by the name of "hakk-allah"[c] (the right of god), and was also inflicted in the time of the prophet, who, to make it a really mild punishment, ordained that the upper part of the arms and shoulders should be covered with camel's hide, and the punishment inflicted on the lower arm only, the indication that it had been correctly administered being shown by the fact that the camel's hide had not moved from its place. the mahdiists, however, took quite another view of the matter, and thought that the only correct way of administering "god's right" was to draw blood copiously. the mahdi also issued many new orders regarding marriages. hitherto in the sudan and in the east generally, the marriage ceremony is accompanied by large feasts. it was the custom of the father on the betrothal of his daughter to obtain in exchange as large a sum of money as possible; that is the reason why fathers greatly preferred their children to be girls, for they made quite a small fortune on their marriages. but the mahdi changed all this, and ordered that the bridegroom should expend a sum of ten dollars only, besides providing a korbab (girth) coverlet, perfumes and ointment for the bride's hair, also another sort of ointment which the sudanese greatly appreciate, and which is generally used for anointing the bridegroom's body; also he must supply a pair of shoes. the ceremonies of betrothal and marriage are very simple. when the contract is completed and the above articles delivered by the bridegroom, his friends and relations assemble, generally on a friday or monday (these days being considered lucky); after a good meal the fiki asks the bride or some one appointed to represent her, whether she consents to the marriage, after which the bridegroom repeats the usual saying, in which he mentions the mahdi's name, the ceremony is thus concluded, and is announced to the neighbours by the women of the party uttering at intervals the shrill cries of joy called "zagharit." young women are forbidden by the mahdi to walk about with uncovered faces; an unveiled woman is considered to be naked; but if she wear a veil and the rest of her body be unclothed, it is not an offence. the wearing of gold and silver ornaments, and of goat's hair curled and plastered with gum (a custom which some of the sudanese women affect), was strictly forbidden, and woe to the woman who thus adorned herself; not only was her false hair forcibly torn from her, but her real hair as well. all these innovations the mahdi justified by the divinity of his mission. he announced that he was the last of the prophets, and that the end of the world was near; further, he said that during his lifetime the prophet jesus would appear, and that the whole world would become moslem; he therefore urged the people to repentance and prayer, and do all in their power to further the jehad (or holy war). why should they seek after riches when in a very short time the world would cease to exist? it is easy to see how such teaching as this must eventually result in famine and destruction. the mahdi forbade all weeping and wailing for the dead, on the grounds that to die in such times as the present for the mahdi's cause was an honour and reward which would without fail secure paradise to them. as for those who did not have the good fortune to die, the mahdi urged them to show their contempt for the pleasures of this life by continual fasting, prayer, and repentance. if a man were suffering from hunger, he recommended him to tighten his belt, whilst his more fanatical adherents advised placing a heavy stone on the stomach. he further ordained that the poorest of clothes should be worn, the feet bared or in sandals, and, in imitation of the prophet's example, the hard floor should be chosen as the place on which to sleep. he made curious regulations regarding the manufacture of jibbehs (_i.e._ the mahdi uniform coat); they should be made of damur, a rough cotton fabric of the sudan, and if torn, they should be mended with new patches or old rags, but that on no account should a new jibbeh ever be worn. all these innovations, which were based on religious motives, were intended by him to enforce unity and cohesion amongst his followers, and at the same time they had the effect of hardening them to undergo the perils of war without complaint; for the mahdi thoroughly understood as long as men were rich they would fear death, and that a luxurious and comfortable mode of life was the worst possible training for war. the mahdi always conducted prayers in public, and his followers considered it a very great privilege to be permitted to take part in worship with him; consequently, when he prayed, his followers came in their thousands, and ranged themselves in long regular lines behind him. when prayers were concluded, it was his custom to make religious discourses, in which he explained various passages in the sacred books, arguing that they referred to the divine message concerning his mission, and the destruction of the turks and unbelievers. the people whom he addressed were so ignorant and uneducated that they believed implicitly every word he uttered; these were the guileless, simple folk, and they were entirely deceived by the mahdi; but there were others who well knew that every word he uttered was a falsehood; nevertheless they listened, and, to flatter him, showed an apparent interest in his new doctrine. thus the mahdi, having prepared himself, as we have seen, and having already been three times victorious over the egyptian troops, now quitted his place of refuge, gedir, and set off for kordofan, which he intended to reduce to entire submission. in order to cover his retreat in case of failure, he left his uncle, sherif mahmud, with some troops at gedir, where he also left the guns, as transport at that time of the year was very difficult, owing to the rain having flooded the khors and valleys; he also left behind the arms captured from the turks. hitherto he had not collected any large amount of treasure, and had suffered considerable privations at gedir. when the mahdi announced his departure from gedir, he wrote letters to the tribes, and soon they flocked to his standards in great numbers and from all directions; baggara from the plains of dar nuba, miserieh, dar abu dali, and hawazma arabs. these hordes assembled, according to the mahdi's orders, at birket, and to this place also came the bederieh, ghodiat, and dar homr arabs, whilst on the further side of el obeid, cruel fiki minneh was gathering the gowameh, asaker abu kalam and dar giumeh arabs, with whom he intended to assault el obeid from the north, simultaneously with the mahdi's attack from the south. the rumours of the enormous quantities of treasure stored in el obeid misled the arab hordes, and there is no doubt that the town would not have fallen had the inhabitants remained loyal to the government. mohammed said pasha had dug a ditch and raised a high parapet round the whole city; but this line of defence was so extensive, that it would have required at least , men to hold it; besides, the ditch was neither sufficiently deep nor broad, and did not present a very serious obstacle to cross. from birket the mahdi despatched three messengers to said pasha, calling on him to surrender, and to acknowledge him as mahdi; in case he refused he was threatened with instant destruction. the three messengers, clothed in their soiled and tattered jibbehs, were brought before a meeting of all the principal people in el obeid; but in spite of their dirty appearance, they behaved in such an overbearing and insolent way, that said pasha, regardless of the advice and counsel of a number of those present who were in reality in league with the mahdi, at once ordered skander bey to hang them. the order was carried out, and in a few moments their lifeless bodies were dangling on the gallows. if said pasha had taken strong measures in dealing with some of the principal townsmen, he might have saved el obeid. a certain ahmed dafallah, a loyal supporter of the government, urged him to put all the suspected people including himself in chains in the mudirieh; this would have disposed of elias pasha, mohammed wad el areik, hajji khaled, ben en naga, and siwar ed dahab; and their chiefs once away, it is probable their followers would have returned to their former loyalty; but said pasha refused to accept the proposal, and instead of trying to win over his sworn enemy, elias pasha, he alienated him still further by taking possession of his newly-built house near the mudirieh and handing it over to elias's bitterest enemy, ahmed dafallah, to live in, thus entirely disregarding elias pasha. now was elias pasha's opportunity to revenge himself on his two adversaries, the garrison of el obeid was unusually weak, insignificant reinforcements had been sent from khartum under mohammed pasha khabir, but he also, being an enemy of the mudir, joined the mahdi, as i shall narrate in the following chapter. footnotes: [b] the gezireh or geziret meröe is generally applied to the country lying between the blue and white niles. [c] in law, the retributive chastisement which it is the duty of a magistrate to inflict for crime and offences against morality and religion. chapter ii. father ohrwalder and his companions taken captive. the storm rises in dar nuba--the baggara begin to raid--khojur kakum of delen--mek omar besieges delen--the slave guard deserts the mission--the priests and nuns surrender--they are sent to the mahdi. leaving the mahdi at birket, i shall now return to the narration of the events which befell us in jebel nuba. as i have already said, the first indication of a revolt occurred in our part of the country in april . when the mahdi had established himself at gedir, the slave-hunters, whose occupation had been destroyed by the action of the government, and who were therefore greatly incensed, were among the first to join his banners. at that time the most notorious slave-dealer was a certain ismail wad el andok of haboba, who took the opportunity, when the government was collecting troops to attack the mahdi, to assemble about , men and make a slave raid on golfan-naïma. he had already burnt over a hundred houses and captured the inhabitants, when some of the poor nubas who had escaped, arrived by night at delen and urgently begged the inspector of slaves, roversi, for help. this, roversi gladly promised he would give them, but it required all his powers of persuasion to induce captain mohammed suleiman to consent; and, indeed, there was no small risk in advancing with only eighty men--which was all roversi could raise--to attack this powerful band of robbers. however, we put our trust in god, and asked his blessing on our humane undertaking. roversi left that evening, guided by the terror-stricken nubas. golfan-naïma is about ten hours' journey from delen, and roversi, by making a forced march during the night, arrived there at daybreak, and was taken by the nubas to a high hill, from which he could see the enemy's entire camp without being seen, and, indeed, so close was he that he could hear the horses neighing and the sheep bleating. after the men had taken a short rest, they prepared for the assault. soon after daybreak, roversi gave the signal for attack by a trumpet call; the enemy, taken completely by surprise, thought only of flight, but the bullets coming from every direction, gave them no time to think or look from whence they came or how many were opposed to them; they fled as rapidly as they could, leaving behind them all the people and cattle they had captured, as well as a number of their own women. roversi's men were soon masters of the situation, and were welcomed by the relieved nubas with every expression of joy and delight; the other nubas, who had fled to the hills, now came down and cut off the retreat of the arabs. roversi captured a large quantity of loot, received the warmest thanks from the captives he had rescued, and soon after he released a number of the women whom he had taken prisoners. the large number of cattle and sheep captured from the arabs in this expedition proved invaluable during the investment of delen, which followed shortly afterwards. the little force now returned laden with booty of every description, and was received by the inhabitants with every manifestation of joy. this, however, was our last victory. i must now give a short description of delen before i proceed to narrate the events which occurred there later on. delen, situated five days' journey to the south of el obeid, is on one of the smallest of the mountain ranges. jebel delen itself consists of five hill summits, decreasing in height from south to north, the highest point being scarcely , feet above the plain. these five hills form a most picturesque group; enormous granite blocks lie piled one over the other, and the spacious cavities thus formed serve as haunts for panthers and other beasts of prey. the rain, which comes down in torrents, has washed all the soil away, leaving only the barren rocks standing in these huge piles; far in the clefts, a sort of wild fig has taken slender root, and, gradually shooting up, gives a pleasant shade, and takes off from the barren aspect which these hills would otherwise present. of the five hills only two are inhabited, and in all there cannot be more than , inhabitants, who are remarkable for their tall and graceful figures and unusual bravery. at the foot of the northernmost hill lay our little mission station, while at the foot of the south-east hill was situated the palisaded zariba of the soldiers; to the west and north, and close to the mission buildings, stretched the nuba villages, extending from the base to the summit of the hills. the second hill from the north, which is about yards from the first hill, was inhabited by the nubas and their khojur kakum. kakum was at that time a man of about fifty years of age, of commanding appearance, and greatly respected by the blacks. he used to wear wide white trousers and a gallabieh, and on his head a nicely embroidered cap with a large tassel which our sisters had made for him. he had passed his youth in alexandria as a soldier, and acquitted himself admirably as the khojur, not of delen only, but also of the neighbouring hills. numbers of people used to come and seek his blessing and advice, and when our bishop comboni arrived at el obeid, he was there to beg him to send missionaries to teach his people and make men of them. he always remained faithful and loyal to the government, and when our time of difficulty and hardship came, his continual motto was, "eed effendina tawileh" (_i.e._ "our khedive's hand is long")--that is to say, his power is great. the third mountain was occupied by a certain dogman, with a small following who were for the most part inclined to mahdiism. for the moment this man was not dangerous, and the people on the two other hills remained loyal to us. when the whole country was up in arms against the government, this honesty and devotion on the part of these poor nubas was a bright exception; they would even have fought for us had it been of any use and we had deemed it necessary. the enemies we most feared were the baggara of the nuba plains, who had their headquarters at singiokai, about six hours north of delen. these tribesmen had joined in the revolt from the beginning, and had cut off our communication with el obeid; they had organised themselves into a corps of from to strong, mounted on horses, and they frequently made incursions on the people in the neighbourhood of delen; they would suddenly appear galloping at full speed, and as suddenly disappear, destroying or seizing everything on their path. their raids were principally directed against the nubas who were working in the fields, and on their women who were carrying water from the wells. these robber-dervishes appeared for the first time on the th of april, , and a cry of alarm was raised from the mountains, which echoed and re-echoed it back a hundred times. every one fled to the mountains, even the cattle instinctively made for their shelters. some nubas were attacked and killed in the woods, and twelve of the soldiers, who were out looking after the camels grazing, were all killed, with the exception of one who fell severely wounded in the back; all the camels were captured. when the baggara had disappeared, the nubas descended from the hills and came to the scene of the raid. on finding the dead bodies, with weeping and wailing they carried them back to the villages; the women tore their hair, rolled on the ground, and put dust on their heads. the large broad lances had made deep gaping wounds in the unfortunate soldiers who had fallen. that night, when all was still, the widows of these poor men went to the top of a high rock and there sang a solemn dirge for the dead, which made a melancholy echo in the deep recesses of the hills. i never heard a more touching lamentation for the dead. it was as if all nature joined in sympathy with these poor people, whose happy homes had been destroyed. i was deeply affected, and the more so as i thought over the cruel fate which now seemed to be hanging over our heads. soon afterwards the baggara appeared again, but this time they were seen from a distance, and by a preconcerted signal all fled to places of security, and the robbers returned empty-handed. the nubas now wanted to lie in wait for the baggara, and asked the captain commanding the company to assist them with twenty men. this, however, he refused to do, so we gave them twenty rifles from the mission, and they then prepared an ambush for the unsuspecting arabs, who a few days afterwards came riding along on their tired horses. the nubas waited till they came quite close, and then suddenly opened fire; fifteen of the enemy fell, and the remainder galloped off at full speed; eight horses and some booty fell into the hands of the nubas, who returned in triumph to the village, and were welcomed with great rejoicings. it was interesting to see them as they marched slowly along, leading their captured horses, while the maidens of the village danced in front of them and sang songs in honour of the braves. we had now a short period of tranquillity, but soon afterwards the baggara renewed their attacks, and we were in a state of constant alarm. our information about the mahdi was distorted and unreliable; we had practically no news from el obeid, and we could only arrive at the conclusion that the government was powerless, otherwise why should the baggara attack us? one evening the captain told us that he had certain information that we were to be massacred that night; he had heard that the baggaras had made a compact with the khojur kakum and the nubas, and that our destruction had been agreed upon. the alarm which fell upon our little colony at this news can be readily understood. it was a very dark night, and in the distance we saw a line of fires which we took to be the baggara camp-fires. as we all quite believed in the captain's information, we prepared ourselves for defence; but as we thought over the situation we began to wonder how it was that kakum, who had hitherto been our sworn friend, and united to us by the tie of blood-brotherhood, should suddenly join with his bitterest enemies, the baggara, to compass our destruction; then, if the news were false, why should we spend a night of anguish? after some deliberation, father bonomi decided to ascertain the true state of affairs, and taking with him two boys and a lantern, he set off to see the khojur himself. full of anxious thoughts, we watched the light as it moved on towards the gap in the hills; at length it reached the base, and then began slowly ascending. an ominous silence pervaded the whole place, which was unusual, for the nubas love gossiping till a late hour at night. still we kept our eyes fixed on the light, which eventually disappeared. how anxiously we awaited its reappearance! should the khojur intend treachery, we knew we should not see bonomi again. how slowly the time passed! but at length the light reappeared, and began to descend the hill. we breathed again; after all we should not lose our father bonomi. in a few minutes he was with us again, and with a cheery laugh told us how the captain's information was all wrong, and how angry the khojur was that we should ever have doubted him. i thereupon hastened to the soldiers' quarters, to reassure the poor captain. mohammed suleiman was really a good man, but he was too old and unfitted for his position. although it was midnight, he and roversi returned with me to the mission, and there he related how one of his female slaves, who had a slight knowledge of the nuba language, had gone to the khojur to grind some dhurra, and had overheard him talking secretly with some of the nubas; then some of them had got angry, and, standing up, beat the ground with their spears. this, the woman concluded, must mean an oath that we should be destroyed. as for the rest of the story, it was entirely the woman's invention. everything was now explained, and our fear gave way to cheerful conversation, which we continued till dawn, when the ringing of the "ave" bell awakened the echoes of the black mountains of delen. at sunrise the khojur arrived, accompanied by a number of followers and many influential nubas. not content with his declaration of fidelity made the previous night, the good man had come down to give us his solemn oath that, far from fighting against us, he and his men were ready to fight and die for us. in a grave speech, full of earnest fervour, he assured us of his and of the nubas' friendship. we, on the other hand, felt certain of his loyalty, and we pledged the success of our compact in a bottle of wine, which our good friend the khojur greatly enjoyed. we lived in this state of uncertainty and fear for upwards of five months, not knowing what the next day would bring forth; we were entirely cut off from the rest of the world, and our peaceful work and occupations were all disturbed. we now no longer dared to expose ourselves on the plains, but confined ourselves to the hills, where we sometimes hunted the koodoo. on one occasion, when we went to the dogman mountain, our suspicions were aroused by the way in which the people gathered round us, and showed a curious desire to examine our arms. as we were returning, the former sheikh of this district--a man named isa--warned us not to come to the mountain again, as some of the men intended to kill us, and would have done so had they not been afraid of our arms. roversi's rifle had a magazine for sixteen cartridges. early in september our position became very critical. the mahdi, having quitted gedir, had advanced into kordofan; his adherents gathered round him at birket from all directions, and from here he despatched a certain mek omar with letters and a small band of followers to take possession of delen. mek omar arrived, and encamped on the hill with his friend dogman, and planting his standard, he beat his war-drum incessantly, day and night. he then sent us a letter saying that the mahdi had captured el obeid, and that all the inhabitants had joined him, with the exception of mohammed said pasha and a few soldiers who still held out in the mudirieh buildings; at the same time omar urged us to submit, as resistance was useless. the fact that omar, with only fifty men, possibly less, had the audacity to pitch his camp under our very eyes, rather induced us to believe in the truth of his assertions. roversi, however, determined to attack him, but was dissuaded from doing so by the captain. we then held a council to consider what would be the best course to follow. after much deliberation (which is always the case in dealing with arabs) it was unanimously decided to attempt a flight to fashoda. the nubas also, who offered us their services as guides, advised us to take this course. it is very probable we should have succeeded in this attempt, as almost all the arabs who wanted to fight had followed the mahdi to el obeid, in anticipation of the booty which they thought would so soon be theirs. the route to fashoda lay far to the south of the scene of present operations, and with the eighty remingtons of the soldiers, and our thirty good rifles, we felt confident that we should be able to make our way thither. it was therefore decided that we should start off very quietly in the dead of night. every one made up a small bundle of the few things he wished to take, which would be required on the journey, either as presents or to buy or offer in exchange for food. we also had a sufficient number of camels, mules, and donkeys for the sisters and sick, and we had made up into bundles all that we required; we gave the rest of our things to the nubas, so that nothing should fall into mek omar's hands. the nubas gave us every possible assistance, and through the darkness we could see them moving about like ghosts amongst the black rocks, laden with every imaginable thing. at midnight we quitted the mission and made our way to the soldiers' zariba, hoping that we should find them all ready to start; but instead we found them all in bed, the captain had given no orders to prepare, and roversi's influence was gone. we tried in various ways to induce the captain to give orders, but he merely answered that he was waiting till he received a reply from mek omar, to whom he had written. getting impatient, he sent a trustworthy man to omar, who never returned. it was now nearly sunrise, and all our efforts to move the captain were unavailing. then the khedivial national anthem, which was always blown at reveille, was sounded, but was smothered by the deafening rattle of the noggaras; it was, as it were, a mockery, showing that the light of civilisation was about to be extinguished by the barbaric hordes of jebel nuba. in the meantime the soldiers had got ready of their own accord, and declared themselves willing to undergo any fatigue, and, if needs be, die for us; but the fear and irresolution shown by their captain unnerved them, and as the sun rose they one by one left the camp and submitted to mek omar. a very few only stayed with roversi; and when the captain quitted the zariba, these too went over to the enemy. thus were we left quite alone--a party of some persons, of whom the greater number were women and children. flight was now out of the question; there was nothing left for us but to return to our homes. we did so; but what a sight met our eyes! the nubas had carried off everything. with heavy hearts we returned to the rooms of the mission; here everything was wrecked and ruined; what the nubas had thought of no use to themselves they had smashed to pieces. roversi, who had always been most loyal and true to us, now went to mek omar to arrange for his own safety. when the first bitterness of feeling had passed off, we discussed the next step to be taken; there was absolutely nothing left in the station, and we had not a mouthful of food left. i then went, in company with bonomi, to mek omar. this former slave-dealer--a short, crippled, and dirty old takruri, who had been well known to us a long time ago--received us in a friendly manner. he had coffee brought to us, and related the great bravery of the mahdi, and then concluded with the following words: "i know that you will not turn mohammedans, you must therefore understand that your property and slaves are no longer your own; at the same time i will give you a letter to the mahdi regarding your situation." hard as these conditions were, we had no alternative but to accept; and when our conference was over, our arms were taken from us, and all our blacks, for whose welfare so many lives had been sacrificed and such trouble expended, were suddenly lost to us at one fell stroke. we then returned to the mission, where we spent the night alone and on our knees. these events took place on the th of september, . on the morning of the th of september we rang for the last time the ave-bell for heaven knows how many years. at noon mek omar arrived with his followers, and, chanting the mohammedan creed, he first entered the church, and there we had the agony of beholding with our own eyes its destruction. our blacks were taken over by omar's troops, and attached to the government soldiers. omar thought that he would find some treasure, but here he was mistaken, for we had hidden the little money we had to meet our future wants; and as we had been cut off from el obeid for seven months, we had consumed all our reserve stores; for the fourteen days previous to this we had not even any salt to mix with our food. we had to stay on at delen for three long days, awaiting omar's pleasure to allow us to proceed. it was pitiable to see the cruel and brutal way in which our poor blacks were treated by omar's followers. before leaving we paid khojur kakum a visit; the poor man was filled with pity for us, and more especially for the sisters; he longed to stay with us, and, bitterly weeping, bade us farewell. he also fully expected to meet a tragic fate. we finally left our beloved nuba hills on the th of september, and after endless trouble succeeded in procuring from mek omar four animals on which the sisters could ride. father bonomi, myself, and two lay brothers took it in turns to walk and ride. our mounts consisted of a camel, a mule, and two donkeys. mek omar placed us in charge of his son naser and a party of arabs; several of the nubas accompanied us for some distance, and as we passed kakum's hill, we could see the poor man standing up and stretching out his hands towards us as a last farewell. many of our young blacks also followed us, but were forced by their new masters to turn back. our departure caused us pangs of grief which pierced us to the very core. in the evening we reached a small hill called kudru, at the base of which there was a well, and here we encamped for the night. here also the nubas came down from the rocks to greet us. we left the next morning, and our road now lay through the great grass plains. at this season of the year, besides the rain, there is always a very heavy dew which wetted us to the skin, besides we often had to ford streams up to our necks, and emerging with dripping clothes, to continue our march. we knew that this was sure to bring on fever and diarrhoea, and so, indeed, it proved, shortly after our arrival at el obeid. at length we reached singiokai, the head-quarters of the baggara, and we found numbers of nomad arabs living in tents. on our arrival, every one, old and young, hastened to look at us, and gaze on the hated captured christians. this inquisitive and motley crowd derided us and heaped insults upon us; the ugly old women, whom one could only compare with hyenas, were perhaps the most bitter in their disgraceful taunts. we stayed here one day, and then continued our journey. whenever we came to a village we were subjected to the rudest treatment, and had we not been guarded by our escort, we must have inevitably been killed. we were constantly searched, in the hope that money would be found on us. when we got near el obeid, naser put us into a hut, where we were told to remain until he should see the mahdi, and ascertain from him his instructions regarding us. we gathered from what he said that he was going to find out whether we should be killed where we were, or brought first before the mahdi. thus naser left us under strict guard. chapter iii. the missionaries and the mahdi. description of el obeid--said pasha's system of defence--the mahdi's followers encircle the town--townspeople desert to the mahdi--unsuccessful attack on government buildings--dervishes driven off with loss of , men--the missionaries brought before the mahdi--threatened with death--preparations for the execution--reprieved at the last moment--the mahdi's camp described--death of some of the missionaries--illness of remainder. during our stay in the hut we were told how the inhabitants of el obeid had joined the mahdi, and that only the garrison held out; but i will here narrate what had actually occurred. we left the mahdi last at birket, while his three messengers had been hanged in el obeid. he left birket on the th of september, and encamped at kaba, a place a few hours' journey from el obeid. el obeid is situated in the midst of a vast plain, which in the hot weather is just like a desert. here and there a few adansonia trees, transported from khartum, break the monotony of this dreary scene which is bounded on the south-east by the kordofan mountains; at a distance of about five kilometres to the north rises the cone-shaped hill known as korbatsh, while to the north-west appears the small om herezeh mountain. el obeid lies in a sort of hollow in the plain; consequently during the winter-time the wells become full of water, and serve as a sufficient supply for the whole year. since the egyptian occupation of the sudan, el obeid had become a town of some importance, but the houses were for the most part built of mud, with the exception of the government buildings, which were constructed of sun-dried bricks. the entrance to these buildings was through a lofty archway, over which a second story had been raised, thus making it a most conspicuous object, and one which could be seen from a considerable distance. el obeid, at the time of which i speak, was an important and flourishing city, with a population of about , souls. it was noted principally for its gum, the best quality of which was known by the name of kordofan gum. the largest quantities came from tayara and dar homr, where the gum trees were planted in large gardens regularly laid out. thousands of camels were engaged in the transport of this valuable commodity to shatt on the white nile, to omdurman, and to dongola. ostrich feathers also formed another important article of commerce. at dar homr there are numbers of ostrich farms, the animals being kept in large zaribas; but as an article of trade, the feathers of the wild ostriches are more valuable than those of the domestic animal. ostrich feathers are always sold by weight. other exports from kordofan are tamarinds, senna, and the skins of animals. iron is also found in kordofan; and one day, when we were digging out a well at delen, we came across quicksilver. el obeid was also the supply depôt for darfur, shakka, and dar nuba, and thus became an important trade centre. numbers of rich merchants lived here, such as elias pasha, omberer, hajji mohammed ben en naga, ahmed bey dafallah (who owned thousands of slaves), mohammed wad el areik, hajji khaled, ibrahim wad adlan, besides numbers of copts and egyptians. several of the principal mercantile houses in cairo also had their agents--syrians, greeks, and jews--in el obeid. kordofan was also rich in cattle. the kababish, dar homr, beni jerrar, and dar hamed arabs possessed large numbers of she-camels. these animals are always kept in the deserts, and are retained exclusively for breeding purposes. quantities of the young camels are killed, and their flesh, which is preferred to any other kind of meat in the sudan, is considered a great luxury, and is generally eaten uncooked. corn is largely grown in kordofan, also sesame, which is preferred to that grown on the white nile; large white water-melons are also grown in abundance. it may therefore be understood why kordofan was the richest province in the sudan and brought in the largest revenue to government. the whole of this rich country was now in the hands of the mahdi, with the exception of el obeid, which was destined soon to be the scene of bloodshed and fanatical warfare between people of the same race and religion. the arabs of various tribes, who in peace time had brought their goods to el obeid to barter and exchange, were now clamouring for the destruction of the town and the slaughter of its inmates. as i have already related, said pasha had completely surrounded the town by a ditch and parapet; but as this would require such an enormous number of men to defend it, and knowing that he could place little reliance on the inhabitants, he had strongly entrenched the mudirieh and government buildings, and at the same time put into a state of defence the barracks, officers and officials' houses, and those of the greek and syrian merchants. the members of our mission station left their house and pretty church, and hired rooms within the fortifications; the loyal citizens and merchants followed their example, while the remainder of the inhabitants continued to live in the town, and conspired with the mahdi. on the th of december, that is to say, the day on which the mahdi arrived at kaba, the whole of these inhabitants quitted the town and joined him in his camp. the wealthy merchants had for long been in communication with the mahdi, others joined him because they were worked up to a pitch of wild fanaticism; some feared to disobey the summons, for they could see how weak were the government troops and how successful the mahdi had been. amongst the deserters to the mahdi's side were mohammed khabir pasha of darfur, and a number of irregular troops who had been despatched from khartum as reinforcements for el obeid. thus by various means the mahdi's force now numbered upwards of , fighting men, and with such an army as that it seemed to him a very easy matter to subdue said pasha and his meagre garrison. the mahdi further incited his people to fight by assuring them that the gates of paradise were open to all those martyrs who should fall, and that each of them should be attended by forty lovely houris when they entered its portals. he also roused their feelings of cupidity by representing, in the most exaggerated terms, the value of the treasure locked up within the mudirieh, and told them that victory was assured, for god and his prophet had decreed that they should annihilate their enemies with simple sticks; this he said because he knew that only a few of his followers had firearms. having thus raised them to a pitch of the wildest excitement, he advanced from kaba. in the meantime the mudir, seeing that he could not rely on the inhabitants, did all in his power to improve the fortifications, and awaited the assault of the enemy. at daybreak the hordes appeared on the rising ground near el obeid; the defenders heard only the dull roar caused by the mass of voices in the distance, but the clouds of dust prevented them seeing anything; it was only when the fitful gusts of wind blew away the dust that the thousands of horsemen could be seen galloping wildly about and then disappearing again behind the dust. but the noise like approaching thunder became every instant more audible, and soon above the clouds of sand the myriads of flags and banners became visible. fiki minneh, with about , men, approached from the east, whilst the mahdi's attack was directed on the south-west end of the town. the first ditch was soon crossed, and then the mahdiists spread out and completely encircled the town; masses of wild fanatics rolled like waves through the deserted streets; they did not advance through these alone, but hurrying on from house to house, wall to wall, and yard to yard, they reached the ditch of the mudirieh, and like a torrent suddenly let loose, regardless of every obstacle, with wild shouts they dashed across it and up the ramparts, from which the din of a thousand rifles and the booming of the guns suddenly burst forth; but these wild hordes, utterly fearless of death, cared neither for the deadly remington nor the thunder of the guns, and still swept forward in ever-increasing numbers. the poor garrison, utterly powerless to resist such an assault, ran to the tops of the houses and kept up an incessant fire on the masses, which now formed such a crowd that they could scarcely move--indeed the barrels of the rifles from the rapidity of the fire became almost red-hot; and soon the streets and open spaces became literally choked with the bodies of those who had fallen. there was a momentary pause, and ali bey sherif, seizing this opportunity, collected a party of men and dashed towards the magazine, where a fierce conflict was going on between the guard and the dervishes. the latter had already become masters of the situation when ali bey suddenly appeared on the scene, and firing on the mass, whether friend or foe, he drove the mahdiists back over the ditch, and then formed up in the breach ready to repel any further attempt to break in. meanwhile said pasha was heavily engaged in front of the mudirieh. here an emir named wad gubara broke in, and shouting, "death to the turks, those dogs and swine!" he dashed forward at the head of his men, but the determined resistance of the mudir forced them to retire back across the ditch. ahmed dufallah defended that part of the line which was assaulted by ibrahim wad abdullah, an emir who had gained great celebrity amongst the dervishes. this brave arab attacked again and again, hoping that the bodies of those who fell would soon fill up the ditch and make a passage which he could cross, but his attempt failed, and he too was forced to retire. the mahdi all this time was watching at a safe distance, and kept on ordering the assault to continue; but it was impossible to stand up against the well-directed fire from the defences, and consequently towards the afternoon he was forced to retire. the gallant little garrison seeing this, could not be restrained, and dashing out over the heaps of slain they made a fierce onslaught on the houses in the town, which were filled with dervishes in search of loot. in their fury they killed all who came in their way, and perhaps they may be excused, for they were in a state of the wildest excitement, occasioned by this fearful scene of bloodshed. it was impossible not to admire the reckless bravery of these fanatics who, dancing and shouting, rushed up to the very muzzles of the rifles with nothing but a knotty stick in their hands, only to fall dead one over the other. numbers of them carried large bundles of dhurra stalk, which they threw into the ditch, hoping to fill it up and then cross over. when the town was cleared, the victorious troops had a great feast and general rejoicing. amongst the dead bodies of the dervishes were found a near relative of the mahdi's named said mohammed, also wad gubara; the latter was a turk who, with his two brothers, had joined the mahdi at gedir; he was one of the fiercest of the emirs. he had fought with the greatest pertinacity in front of the mudirieh, and, mounted on a horse, he was urging on his followers; but the soldiers, noticing his fair face, persistently aimed at him, and at length he and his horse fell on the top of a heap of dead bodies. when the soldiers subsequently found his body, they were so annoyed that a turk should have joined the mahdi that they cut off his head and hacked his body to pieces. whilst the soldiers were clearing out the enemy from the houses, the mahdi was retiring on kaba with a loss of , men. said pasha then held a council to consider whether they should pursue; but he himself was against pursuit, for he thought that possibly fiki minneh might then fall on the defenceless town; besides, in all he had not more than , men. as for the mahdi, he and his principal emirs were greatly alarmed, and it is very probable that if they had been pursued, the result would have been a complete victory for said pasha. as it was, the mahdi was on the point of retreating to the mountains, and would have done so had not the inhabitants of el obeid, who still thought of their houses and property, dissuaded him. the latter still urged him to continue the siege, consequently on the following day he took up a position on a hill called gianzara, about two kilometres distant to the north-west of the town, and only one kilometre distant from the oshra well (so called from the oshra or euphorbia which grows in quantities in the vicinity). fiki minneh established himself to the north-west of the town, and soon it was more closely invested than ever; from that date nothing came in and nothing went out of the doomed city. we had spent one day in the hut, and had learnt all the details about the mahdi's attack on the town, when a messenger sent by naser arrived, and ordered us to move on to the mahdi's camp, as it was his gracious intention to permit us to look upon his face. shortly after we had set out, we met naser returning, accompanied by a party of dervishes. as we approached el obeid, the rattle of the rifles, broken every now and then by the boom of a gun, became more and more audible. we were halted under a large adansonia tree and ordered to rest, but we had scarcely laid down when we were suddenly attacked by naser and his party, who seized our watches and other valuables, and then stripped off our clothes; they even attempted to remove the veils and outer garments of the sisters, but to this we forcibly objected, and seizing sticks tried to drive them off. at length these wretched thieves, ashamed of the unequal contest, drew off, and naser ordered our clothes to be returned; but my suit, in which i had stitched thirty dollars, was not given back to me, and i was reduced to appearing before the mahdi in a shirt and drawers! our escort having satisfied their cupidity, now mounted our donkeys, and we were obliged to walk; the burning sun beat down on our heads, and the heated ground and heavy sand made our progress intensely laborious. as we approached the camp, at every step the crowd grew denser. el obeid was now visible a short way off, and the sight of the houses and trees was a pleasant break in the monotony of this desolate wilderness. the continuous rattle of the bullets, interrupted by the thunder of the cannon, was an indication that a brisk engagement was going on. as we entered the camp, the crowd was so enormous that we were almost choked with the dust that was raised, and soon became thoroughly exhausted. our brother mariani, who was sick at the time we left delen, could keep up no longer, and we were obliged to almost carry him along. the fanatics now completely surrounded us, and kept on threatening us with their lances, clubs, and sticks. naser himself, seeing some of the very excited dervishes pointing their lances at our breasts, greatly feared for our safety, and it seemed to us that there was now not the slightest doubt that they intended to kill us. he therefore ordered our escort to draw their swords and form a square, in the centre of which we walked. the exertions of the last few days, the heat, the yelling of the crowd, the monotonous chants of the dervishes, and finally the din of this enormous camp of over , men, exclusive of women and children, reacted on us to such an extent that we were well-nigh speechless. slowly we made our way towards the centre of the camp where the great dervish, mohammed ahmed, had pitched his tent. we were taken, in the first instance, to the hut of the khalifa sherif. here we found a lad of twelve or thirteen years of age, lying half-naked on a bedstead, who invited us to come into the shade and rest ourselves, at the same time he drove off with his whip the inquisitive crowd that kept pressing in to look at us. he gave us some water to drink, but we were so utterly weary and exhausted that we could not swallow it for some time, and the heat and dust had literally glued our tongues, so that we were unable to articulate. we were allowed to rest for a short time, as the mahdi had not risen from his noonday sleep, and this brief respite enabled us to collect our thoughts, which the events of the last few days and the uproar of the camp had caused to wander sadly. at length an order came that the mahdi was up and wished to see us. we were then taken to a small hut, which had two sides open, through which a cool breeze blew in; close to the hut one of the tents captured from yusef pasha shellali had been pitched, and as we arrived the mahdi came out of the tent and seated himself, in arabic fashion, on a straw mat spread on the floor of the hut. he greeted us kindly, and asked us about our nationality and our object in coming to the sudan, also whether we had ever heard anything about the mahdi, he then briefly explained to us the nature of his divine message, and recounted his great victories over "the enemies of god and his prophet," by which name he designated the turks. seeing that we were utterly exhausted, he offered us some kamar-ed-din (dried apricots) mixed with water, but almost before we could put it to our mouths it was full of flies. in the meantime a certain george stambuli, who had joined the rebels with the other inhabitants of el obeid, came in, and through him the mahdi endeavoured to place before us the great advantage of the islam religion. the mahdi himself never asked us to adopt the moslem faith, because he feared that we should answer in the negative. he then stretched himself out on the mat as if he were preparing to behold a vision. mohammed ahmed was a powerfully built man, of dark-brown complexion and carefully kept skin; he had a pleasant smile, which showed to advantage the curious slit between his front teeth. by constant training he had acquired a gentle manner in speaking, and with these exceptions there was nothing unusual in his appearance. he wore a dirty jibbeh, on which parti-coloured strips of cotton had been sewn; on his head the white skull cap or "takia," round which a broad white turban was bound; he also wore a pair of loose drawers and sandals. after he had lain for some time with closed eyes, he rose and offered us some more kamar-ed-din, from which he himself began to take out the flies; but finding it absolutely useless to do so, he gave it up, and then went back to his tent, probably to hold a council. after a short time he again returned, wearing a clean jibbeh patched with pieces of the vestments belonging to our mission church at el obeid. he then began to recount to us the history of the numerous conversions which had taken place in the early days of the prophet. seeing that we took little interest in what he said, he got up and ordered us to be taken before the khalifa abdullah (the present ruler of the sudan), while he himself retired to his own tent. on our arrival at abdullah's hut, we found ourselves in company with twenty robbers who were chained hand and foot. an enormous crowd stood round, and amongst the faces i noticed some of our delen friends, who had evidently followed us to see what the end would be. our guard, armed with remington rifles, stood around us, and close to us was the khalifa abdullah's horse, which always remained saddled--a witness to his unbounded energy. a short distance off, about eighty flags were planted in the ground, and beside them were the war-drums. hardly had we seated ourselves when the khalifa abdullah entered. he was at that time a man of about thirty-three years of age, of middle height, very thin--in fact, little else but skin and bone; he greeted us kindly, and invited us to become moslems. from his bombastic conversation, we soon saw that he was a man of no education whatever, and he ended up by saying that if we refused to obey we had only death to expect. we were then marched off. on the evening of the th of september, when george stambuli came to tell us that if we did not embrace islam, we should most certainly die, we gave him no hope that we should change our minds. the mahdi frequently sent people to teach us the truths of religion, but we soon tired of their nonsensical chattering, and father bonomi used to send them away with strong words. shortly afterwards abdullah came again, bringing a water-melon with him, and in default of a knife he broke it on the ground; but we refused to take any. greatly annoyed at this, he went off in a rage, saying that we should be beheaded the following morning. at midnight stambuli came to us again, to say that he had offered a considerable sum for our ransom, but that the mahdi had refused to accept it. we therefore gave him the few dollars we had left, and asked him to come and see us the following morning, which he promised to do. we employed our few remaining hours in preparation for death. the terrors and alarms which we had undergone for the last five months were over at last; in the midst of our sufferings the thought of death, which should soon take us out of the hands of these barbarians, was a comfort to us. a deep quiet had now settled down over the camp, which was only occasionally broken by the clank of the prisoners' chains. just before dawn a wonderful comet appeared in the east; its golden tail seemed to project about ten feet into the blue firmament, and was a most striking sight. it brought back to our minds the star in the east which stood over the manger at bethlehem. the arabs called it "nigmet el mahdi" (the mahdi's star). according to sudan superstition, the appearance of a comet is supposed to forebode evil, and, indeed, what catastrophe could have been greater than that which was now impending over the sudan? the sudden clang of the war-drum startled me from the meditations which the appearance of that strange comet had produced. the beating of the drums and the blast of the great ivory horn (onbeïa) was the signal for the "ardeh-kebir," or grand review, and i now had to bethink me of my own affairs and let the star pursue its way in the heavens. the emirs' war-drums now took up the signal, and soon people were rushing from all directions towards their particular flags, which were planted to the east of el obeid. stambuli again appeared and announced to us that our sufferings were nearly over. we gave him a small piece of paper on which we had written our last farewells to our own loved ones at home, and had signed our names. this we begged him to send on when an opportunity occurred. weeping bitterly, he took the paper and went to his hut, saying he could not bear to look on at our execution. we were now all ready, and at about nine o'clock a party of thirty men armed with lances arrived and ordered us to follow them. we were still suffering from fatigue, but we got up and followed. after about half an hour's walk we arrived before the dervish hosts, and thanked god that victory was now so near. about , men were standing on parade, and thousands of others were moving about the camp like ants. we were taken to a central position and ordered to bend our necks to receive the death-blow, and without the smallest hesitation we did so. but our hour had not yet come. we were summoned before the mahdi, who was riding on a magnificent white camel; behind him rode a slave carrying an umbrella to shade him from the sun's rays. as we approached, he turned round to us and said, "may god lead you into the way of truth," and then rode on. the troops were now dismissed, and we were immediately surrounded by a turbulent crowd, who threatened to crush us to death; but the mahdi, seeing us in danger, turned back, and ordered us to walk in front of his camel for protection. we did so, but were too weary to keep up, and then the mahdi gave orders, which we could not understand, to a number of different emirs; the latter ordered us to halt until the great rush of people had passed, then they formed a square and asked each one of us separately whether we agreed to become moslems or would prefer to suffer death. each one of us answered resolutely--death! then, full of anger, we were forced on--exhausted and covered from head to foot with dust--till we reached the mahdi's hut. having arrived there he said, "have you not seen my army?" and then he began to boast of the number of his followers and their great bravery. we said nothing. he then went off, and we were taken back to khalifa abdullah's hut. a council was now held to consider our fate; the majority were for killing us, but a certain hajji khaled--now an emir in omdurman--pointed out that, according to the moslem law, it was not lawful to kill priests who had not offered any armed resistance, and who were, moreover, captives. his view of the case was accepted, and we were handed over to george stambuli, who was made responsible for us. we then left abdullah's hut, and proceeded to stambuli's, which was barely large enough for himself and his family, so we were obliged to take up our quarters outside in the open, where we remained for fifteen days, exposed to the continual insults of the arabs, until we were able to build a hut for ourselves. we were now able to take a survey of this gigantic camp. from the sandhill gianzara almost up to the base of the om herezeh mountain, was one mass of small huts, these were merely enclosures made of branches of euphorbia and (sorghum) dhurra stalks, just sufficient to keep off the burning rays of the sun. here and there a white tent indicated the headquarters of some important emir. fiki minneh's camp adjoined that of gianzara, and extended from fulla (a small pond which runs dry in the summer months), up to the base of om herezeh. the huts were built so close to each other that constant fires took place, which spread rapidly, and caused great destruction. this enormous camp presented a wonderful spectacle, more especially at night, when almost every one had his own cooking fire, and the whole plain resembled a sea of fires which were lost in the distant horizon. the din and noise created by hundreds of thousands of men, women, and children, can be better imagined than described. every emir's[d] dwelling was known by two flags which were always planted near the entrance, and beside them lay the war-drums, which were beaten day and night, almost without intermission. besides all this, the neighing of thousands of horses rendered the din still more unbearable. the whole air was infected with the most sickening stench; but to these wretched people, pure or impure air makes no difference; they do not mind. all the filth was piled behind the huts, dead donkeys lay about unburied; no attempt was made to keep the place clean, and all this huge mass of people lived in the midst of an ever-increasing heap of rotting impurities. a daily market was held, and the people laid their goods on the ground, sheltering themselves under a strip of cloth, known as "farda," stretched on the points of lances, the bases of which were stuck in the ground. el obeid was close by, the great arched gate of the mudirieh towered above the other houses of the town, and over it floated the red egyptian flag, which was hoisted every friday. some of the dervishes used to conceal themselves in the deserted houses of the town and fire at the fort, while others pulled down the roofs and walls and dragged away the beams to the camp, and there cut them up for firewood. our church, which was covered with galvanised iron plates, was completely destroyed; even the mosque was not spared. there was a busy scene day and night at the oshra well; here thousands of male and female slaves drew water, and frequent quarrels and fights took place. all this change of scene made a deep impression on me; the strain of the last few days, the tiring journey from delen to el obeid, the continual uncertainty as to our fate, anguish, fear, din, tumult, bad food, had already considerably affected our health, and now that we were at rest, and that the arabs had ceased to molest us, the re-action came, and we fell a prey to disease. the infected atmosphere of el buka--as the mahdi's camp is always called--brought on a burning fever and constant diarrhoea. besides all this, when confined with the robbers in abdullah's house, we had become covered with horrible vermin; it was impossible to get rid of them--they seemed to increase daily. we had no clothes to change, and as we had scarcely enough water to drink, washing was out of the question. with a feeling of utter despair we lay helpless and comfortless on the floor of that miserable black hut. our maladies became worse, and ere a month had passed, three of our number were dead. sister eulalia pesavento, of verona, died of fever on the th of october; carpenter gabriel mariani died of dysentery on the st of the same month, and sister amelia andreis died on the th of november, while we four who still remained, hovering between life and death, lay helplessly side by side with our dead brothers and sisters. it was a terrible exertion to us to sew the corpses in mats and drag them to the door of the hut. at length some slaves--much against their will, and on the promise of good pay--removed the already decaying bodies, and buried them in shallow pits, which they covered up with sand. no one lent a hand to bury these "christian dogs," as we were called. it was a terrible grief to us not to accompany our poor companions in adversity to the grave, but we were all too ill to move, and so they were carried away to their last resting-place without prayer or chant; and even to this day i cannot tell if the slaves really buried them, or merely dragged the bodies beyond the huts, and left them lying there on the ground. the condition of us miserable wretches who were still alive is beyond description; we envied our companions, who were now beyond the reach of human suffering; but our hour had not yet come. towards the end of november we were somewhat recovered, but our lives seemed to have been spared only to behold more terrible sights and sufferings than we had previously undergone. meanwhile, more of our companions in adversity had arrived from dar nuba. shortly after we had been made over to stambuli, roversi came, and was interviewed by the mahdi, who received him well, and presented him with a horse. roversi recounted to us the story of his misfortunes; during his journey from delen to el obeid he was frequently in danger of losing his life; the baggaras, mindful of their defeat at his hands, thirsted for vengeance. roversi owed his life to his magazine rifle. he used to visit us daily and tell us of the various plots of which we were the intended victims. he told us how the arabs had determined to take the sisters, and that they intended to distribute us amongst the various emirs. this news terrified the sisters, and there is little doubt that the bare thought of it hastened the deaths of the two who were so ill. roversi further informed us that a quarrel had occurred between mek omar and the nubas regarding the distribution of the loot taken from our delen mission; a conflict had taken place, in which mek omar had lost a number of his men, and had been obliged to retreat from delen to singiokai. after roversi's arrival the mahdi wrote to said pasha again, summoning him to surrender; roversi also, by the mahdi's order, was forced to write to the mudir, telling him that resistance was useless, as it was out of the question to hope for reinforcements from khartum. towards the end of october roversi fell ill with dysentery, caused by the infected and foul atmosphere of the camp; the last time he came to see us he was very weak; then we heard that the mahdi had suddenly ordered him to kashgil for change of air, and a few days later we heard that he was dead. some said he had been killed, others said that he had been poisoned by ismail wad el andok, in revenge for his defeat at golfan-naïma. roversi's maid-servant, aisha--a black girl brought up in constantinople--and his man-servant, hajji selim, reported that they had found his shoes in the forest, and his dead body in a hut. the unfortunate young roversi was barely thirty years of age, a protestant by religion, and a man for whom we all cherished a great affection. the date of his death was probably the rd of november, . a few days after this date mek omar and his men arrived in the camp, bringing our delen blacks with them. the latter at once came to see us, and soon afterwards all of them--both boys and girls--were sold as slaves, whilst the more grown-up youths were drafted into the mahdi's army. two of the girls, one an abyssinian and the other a black, became concubines of the mahdi. a cruel fate soon overtook mek omar: it was reported that he had concealed some of the captured booty, and he was at once put in chains by the mahdi's order. shortly afterwards he sent for us, and bonomi and i paid him a visit. we found him shackled with two chains on his feet, and a chain about fifteen feet long round his neck; the poor man was completely bowed down with the weight of these chains, and begged us most humbly to intercede for him, as he told us it was the mahdi's intention to have him beheaded. the condition of this unfortunate individual so touched us, that bonomi went to the mahdi and represented that it was really the nubas who had stolen the booty, and so mek omar was released. as we slowly began to recover from our illness, the thought of release was constantly in our minds. we applied to the powerful elias pasha, whom we had known very well in el obeid. this blind old pasha received us kindly, but said that abdel kader pasha in khartum, was furious with him for having joined the rebels; he therefore said that our best course was to apply daily to the mahdi, who in time might perhaps be moved to grant our release. we followed his advice, but it was no easy matter to make our way through the crowd of fanatics who surrounded his hut day and night, all struggling to get a sight of his face which, it was said, shed rays of light. pushed about, shoved in every direction, and insulted, we might perhaps succeed in reaching the doorway; but here we were stopped by the guards, and it was almost impossible to pass them. however, after superhuman efforts, we succeeded twice in interviewing the mahdi. he listened kindly to our entreaty, and then said, "at present the roads are dangerous, and i wish no harm to come upon you; when el obeid has surrendered, we will permit you to go to your own country." he advised us to wear kuftans (the arab outer garment), for hitherto we wore merely a shirt and drawers, as he said that, dressed in this way, we should escape the inquisitive glances of the multitude and we took his good advice. footnotes: [d] the title "emir" really means "prince," and is far too high a title to give to these wretched chiefs; but as it is the sudan custom, i must retain it.--j. o. chapter iv. the siege of el obeid. terrible sufferings of the besieged--the kababish--fall of bara--fall of el obeid--the mahdi enters the town--fate of the el obeid mission--cold-blooded murder of the brave defenders--the dervishes live a life of ease in el obeid--the mahdi makes laws--he sends out proclamations--prestige increased by capture of town--news from khartum--bonomi and ohrwalder summoned before the mahdi--the interview. the garrison in el obeid now began to suffer from the effects of this close siege and blockade. the necessaries of life were failing rapidly; the price of provisions had gone up enormously. the commonest food, known as "dokhn" (a kind of millet) rose to dollars, and eventually to dollars the ardeb. meat had almost entirely given out. our mission brethren in the fort possessed one camel, which was nothing but skin and bone, and which was sold for , dollars, and two days afterwards the purchaser offered it for sale for , dollars. eventually the butcher bought it for , dollars. a chicken went for thirty dollars; eggs a dollar apiece; a loaf of sugar fifty dollars, and twenty dollars for a pound of coffee. a thimbleful of salt cost a dollar. the above were the prices a month after the close investment had begun. butter and oil could not be had for any money. the poor began to starve quite at the beginning of the siege, and soon were dying in considerable numbers. a little later, matters came to a terrible pass. all the camels and cattle being finished, donkeys, dogs, mice, and even crickets were consumed, as well as cockroaches, which were considered quite tit-bits; white ants, too, were eaten. and now the deaths by starvation had reached an appalling figure. the dead and dying filled the streets; the space within the fortifications being so limited, there was not room for all the people, and in consequence many lay about in the streets and open spaces. the air was poisoned by the numbers of dead bodies lying unburied, while the ditch was half full of mortifying corpses. scurvy and dysentery were rife; the air was black with the scores of carrion-kites, which feasted on the dead bodies; these ugly birds became so distended by constant gorging that they could not even fly away, and were killed in numbers by the soldiers, who devoured them with avidity. later on gum became the only food; there was a quantity of this, but it brought on diarrhoea, and caused the bodies to distend--indeed, numbers died from eating it. the ground was dug up in all directions in search of the white ants' nests; and the food which they had collected for the winter was greedily consumed. some poor sufferers eked out a miserable existence by living on the undigested food found in the excrement of animals; all sorts of leather, shoes and sandals, were boiled and eaten. it was a terrible sight to see these human skeletons--their eyes sunk into the backs of their heads, wandering about in search of food. the mudir extorted all the corn and money he could from the rich merchants, but of what good was a mere handful of corn to the soldiers? they became desperate, all discipline was at an end and they often broke into the houses by night in search of food. during all this time the dervishes outside kept on shouting out curses and insults, deriding those within for eating dog's-meat, for, during all this terrible famine in the city, there was abundance of food in the dervish camp, and this made the besiegers bolder and more insulting than ever, for they knew that the town was practically in their hands. we often tried to establish some sort of communication with our mission brethren in the city, but we never succeeded in getting any reliable information about them. at length, towards the end of december, we managed, through the kind offices of george stambuli, to send in a letter and received a reply from the father superior, johann losi, which was brought to us by one of our female slaves. the news it contained was heart-rending; all our brethren were down with scurvy--that is to say, father rossignoli, brother locatelli, and four sisters, whilst father losi himself was on the point of death. for a month they had lived on nothing but dokhn and rice; everything else was gone. father losi sent us some clothes, which were a godsend to us, and also dollars, while we in return could do nothing for our poor besieged brethren. a few days later we heard that father losi died on the th of december of scurvy. the garrison frequently attempted small sorties, in the hope that they might be able to secure a sheep or bullock, or some wood, and these always caused some excitement in the camp. when anything of this sort took place, the usual cry was "et turki marak" ("the turks are coming out"), then the camp suddenly woke up, and, like a swarm of ants, moved towards the town to drive the garrison in again. on these occasions quantities of ammunition were expended without much result. in the meantime the mahdi continued his daily preaching against the vanities of this life, of his divine message, and of the approaching end of the world. during these sermons the people stood wrapped in wonder and astonishment at the mahdi's great wisdom. the egyptian guns frequently fired into the camp, and on two occasions shells burst close to our hut, but did no harm. the dervishes also returned the fire, but their shots always fell far beyond; had they only been skilled in the working of the guns they had, the fortifications would have become untenable in a day, but the mahdi seemed purposely to wish to prolong the siege, and to thus compass the death of its defenders through famine. the wells were only about one kilometre distant from the forts, and in consequence within easy range of the fire of the besieged; but the mahdi was quite regardless of this, and often formed up his troops there--a proceeding which generally resulted in his losing some men. it was about this time that the principal sheikhs of the powerful kababish tribe, viz. saleh and tome, the sons of sheikh salem, came to pay their allegiance to the mahdi. as a gift they brought him two hundred camels, and he in return ordered a great military display and a special bombardment of el obeid in their honour. the two sheikhs did not, however, take a great interest in these proceedings; and one day saleh suddenly took himself off, and from that date became the mahdi's sworn enemy, until the day of his death, when, as we shall presently see, he was one of the last of the great sheikhs who was overthrown by the mahdi. his brother tome was suddenly thrown into chains without any warning, the mahdi giving as his reason that the prophet had appeared to him in a vision and told him to do so. towards the end of november, news arrived that a further reinforcement of troops had left khartum for el obeid. this information occasioned a great stir in the camp, because there was some idea that english troops had been sent. these must have been the arrival of the first batch of troops destined eventually to form part of the hicks expedition; but even then it was too late to send any help to el obeid. one day it came to the mahdi's ears that provisions were being smuggled into el obeid, where they were sold at enormous prices, and to stop this he made the investment still closer. some of the smugglers were caught, and as a punishment their right hands were cut off, and their handless arms tied to their necks; they were then led round the camp as a warning to others. meanwhile, as the siege of el obeid was drawing to a close, other places in kordofan were falling into the mahdi's hands. the town of bara had been reduced to great straits. a force marching to its relief under abu kuka, was attacked by fiki minneh: the majority were killed, and it was only through the bravery of surur effendi that a few hundred of them succeeded in reaching the town. the notorious nur angar, who was on the walls of the town, rendered no assistance during the siege, and went over to the enemy. at length, on the th of january, bara was forced to capitulate through famine, and the garrison was sent to the mahdi's camp. the victory was celebrated by a salute of guns, and the unfortunate garrison in el obeid took this to be the approach of relieving troops; but the mahdi made it known to said pasha that, on the contrary, it was in celebration of the fall of bara--an incident which caused the gloom to deepen over the doomed city; and all hope of delivery was abandoned. yet the mudir still continued to hope against hope that he should be relieved from khartum, and his sanguine spirit kept up the courage of the garrison. but it could not last much longer; the soldiers were too weak even to hold their rifles in their hands, and said pasha realized that further resistance was useless. in desperation, therefore, he proposed to blow himself up in the powder magazine, and this he certainly would have done had not the senior officers urged that in doing so numbers of other lives would have been sacrificed as well. there was now nothing left to be done but to surrender, and this event took place on the th of january, . the mahdi and his hordes now entered el obeid, and he made the mudirieh his residence. guards under the command of mukuddums were posted outside every large house, to prevent the notables escaping, to further extort money and to search for treasure. children, servants, and slaves were kept aside, and by continual flogging were obliged to divulge the secret hiding-places. the mission buildings were of course entered by thousands of mahdiists. father bonomi and brother locatelli lay sick, and the sisters were completely exhausted. hundreds of dervishes struggled to break into the narrow enclosure where the unfortunate brethren lay ill. the crosses which the sisters wore round their necks were wrenched off and broken to pieces with axes. sister concetta corsi, who was then one of the strongest, flew at these cruel intruders and made them wonder at the boldness of a poor weak woman. some of them then entered with drawn swords, and, pointing their lances within an inch of her bosom, they threatened her with instant death if she made the slightest resistance; but she answered, "you are dogs, and not men!" whereupon one of those standing near her gave her a blow on the face, which broke several of her teeth and made her mouth pour with blood. three days after the mahdi's entry into el obeid, our missionaries were taken before him, and in a solemn assembly he tried in vain to force them to become moslems. they were then sent forth with nothing but the clothes they wore, in company with the other survivors of the siege, to the dervish camp. our little party was now increased by the arrival of father rossignoli, brother locatelli, who was then more dead than alive being carried on an angarib (native bedstead), and four sisters, who were all suffering from scurvy. they were brought to our hut, and our meeting could not be otherwise than a sad one. the sisters were accompanied by a girl named bianca limona, who, though a sudanese, had quite a fair face, and resembled an albino. gordon, when travelling from darfur to el obeid, came across a youth of a similar type, whom he brought to the mission, and suggested that he should marry the girl; but he being a fanatical mussulman, the girl absolutely refused. bianca, being of no trade value, was permitted by the dervishes to remain with the sisters. all the other mission blacks remained with the soldiers, but the young ones were sold. from amongst the christian girls the mahdi selected two as concubines--an abyssinian and a black; the latter had been well brought up, had learnt handiwork of different sorts, and she soon became the head of all the concubines. the dervishes captured quantities of arms and ammunition in the fort, also a considerable amount of rough gold, goods of all sorts, and furniture. this was all carried off to the beit el mal; the floors were all dug up in search of hidden treasure, and even dead bodies were disentombed and examined. the body of father losi, who had died a month before, was pulled up and searched, as it was believed he had a quantity of money. i must here recount an episode which will give an idea of the wonderful fidelity of our poor blacks, and their affection for us. father losi had purchased a little black boy in el obeid, and for the ten long years during which this brave missionary had worked continuously for the welfare and happiness of the blacks, his boy said served him most faithfully, and during all the horrors of that dreadful siege this boy never left the side of his "father," as he used to call father losi. when losi died, the boy used to spend most of the day weeping over his grave, and one day he was found lying stretched on the grave quite dead--he had died of grief. the mudir, said pasha, and the senior officers were, for a time, placed under guard, and refused, even on pain of death, to say where the treasure was; but when said pasha heard that his concubine and servants had been cruelly flogged and beaten to make them divulge, he at length handed over all his property to the mahdi, and £ , . a few days after the fall of el obeid a fire broke out on the north side of the camp; the strong wind drove the flames to the adjoining huts, and soon half the camp was ablaze. we had to run from our hut, which was soon afterwards enveloped in flames, and we were again obliged to encamp in the open. however, our good friend stambuli succeeded in procuring a small tent for us. the mahdi now ordered the whole town of el obeid to be occupied by the arabs, but it was not nearly large enough to hold all the people, consequently an enormous circle of huts soon surrounded the town, and we ourselves erected a small one, just beyond the precincts of the mahdi's camp, having some greeks and syrians, who had been turned out of el obeid, as our neighbours. for about fifteen days most of the inhabitants of the town--clerks, government officials, and copts, were closely guarded and continually flogged to make them disclose the hiding-places of their treasure. most of the principal people were handed over to the emirs. said pasha was placed in charge of ismail wad el andok, and sent to aluba; ali bey sherif was sent to birket, and several of the coptic clerks were sent to singiokai. ahmed bey dafallah and major yesin were dragged to shakka. evil reports were spread about them, and it was rumoured that both the mudir and ali bey sherif had written to khartum, consequently the mahdi issued orders that the gallant defenders should be killed, justifying his action by saying that the prophet had, in a vision, ordered him to do so. ali bey sherif was beheaded close to the tent occupied by his wife and two children, who were afterwards taken over by sayid abdel kader, the mahdi's uncle. said pasha was most cruelly slaughtered with axes at aluba; he was greatly disliked by the people, who called him "jurab el ful" ("sack of beans") because he was so stout. ahmed bey dafallah and major yesin were executed at shakka. such was the end of the brave defenders of el obeid, who, in truth, deserved a better fate. the mahdi, having thus made away with his enemies, was able to breathe more freely, and, as if to excuse himself for his horrible cruelty, he published a vision, in which he said that he had been told that said pasha did not go to hell, but as he (the mahdi) had earnestly begged it, he was permitted to go to paradise. during the siege there was much friction between the mahdi and fiki minneh, whose capacity for drinking marissa and stealing booty came to the mahdi's ears. as long as minneh was useful to the mahdi he forbore with him; but when el obeid fell, he sent for him and forcibly made him divide his booty. fiki minneh therefore returned in a sulky mood to tayara, and from that time became the mahdi's enemy. he openly collected a quantity of dokhn, and brought together his fighting force. the mahdi therefore despatched abu anga, the commander-in-chief of his forces, abderrahman en nejumi and abdullah wad en nur, with a large number of men. making a forced march, they appeared suddenly at tayara, and the gowameh followers of minneh fled on the first volley. minneh's brother, uncle, and two sons were captured and beheaded on the same spot where minneh himself had slain the soldiers and their wives and children the previous year; their heads were hung up in the market-place at el obeid as a warning to others. the mahdi and his emirs now began to live a life of ease; the latter occupied the various buildings around the mudirieh and made themselves comfortable: they placed no restrictions on themselves in the way of food and drink; there was money in abundance and supplies were plentiful, consequently sensuality and luxurious living were substituted for the abstemious life which the mahdi doctrine had at first inculcated. the principal emirs delighted in extensive harems and a show of splendour. jibbehs were still worn, but their ragged condition, which was essential in the early days, gave way to as much embellishment as such a garment would admit of. the emirs vied with one another in their wealth of slaves, cattle, horses and donkeys; their sword-hilts were now embellished with silver. in place of lying on the dirty ground, their clothes full of vermin, they assumed the luxurious and comfortable mode of life of the turks and egyptians. so shocked, indeed, was the mahdi's uncle, sherif mahmud, when he arrived from gedir to see the drunken and debauched lives led by the emirs, more especially by wad en nejumi, that he induced the mahdi to order the latter to reduce his harem by twenty wives, who were subsequently sold in the beit el mal as slaves. at the same time the mahdi issued the strictest orders against luxurious living, and insisted that no gold and silver ornaments should be worn. he further ordained that in future the dress should consist of a takia (or skull cap) made of the leaves of the dwarf-palm, round which a turban should be worn with end hanging down; the jibbeh (or coat); a pair of drawers; and a girdle made of straw. this made rather a becoming uniform to these swarthy warriors. the rules regarding smoking and drinking were reiterated with greater severity. it was next to impossible to induce the sudanese to give up smoking and chewing tobacco: a man would willingly give all the money he had to secure even a small quantity. then the blacks, and especially the emirs, are much addicted to marissa drinking, which it was found still more difficult to stop; if men or women were caught in the act of smoking or drinking, they were obliged to walk through the market with the drinking bowl or tobacco on their heads, followed by an insulting and hooting crowd. it was sometimes the custom to break the bowl on the marissa drinker's head and drench him with its contents; this was the signal for all the children to throw mud and dust at the culprit until he became almost unrecognisable; he was then dragged before the kadi (or judge) in the market-place, where he received eighty unusually heavy blows, the first of which generally drew blood. the place was full of spies, who were always on the look-out to report smokers and drinkers to the mahdi. sometimes they forced their way into the houses, and finding nothing, would surreptitiously throw some tobacco on the floor, which they would then suddenly discover, and declare it to be the property of the owner of the house, who would be forthwith dragged off and thrashed unmercifully although perfectly innocent. justice was administered according to the moslem law. blasphemers of god or the religion were punished with instant death, as well as all those who disbelieved in the mahdi. a murderer was at once beheaded, no extenuating circumstances were ever admitted. a thief was deprived of a hand and a foot; adultery between married persons was punished by beheading the man and stoning the woman, but in the latter case a necessary proof was that the woman should be with child. illicit intercourse between unmarried persons was punished with eighty lashes; these laws regarding immorality were, however, in the case of slaves, relaxed to some extent, and they were, as a rule, punished by flogging only. persons found concerned in the making of eunuchs were beheaded, though curiously enough the khalifas and emirs all retained eunuchs for their harems. slaves freed by the egyptian government were not recognised as such, and were again forced to become slaves. a slave's witness was not accepted in a trial. all important cases were judged before the mahdi, who sentenced persons as he thought fit. the mosaic law--an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth--was generally practised. the relations of murdered persons generally carried out the sentences on the criminal, provided that the judge approved. punishment could be modified or cancelled altogether by the payment of money. in addition to the mahdi, his relatives and the khalifas were permitted to judge cases--a proceeding which resulted in great confusion and miscarriage of justice. the market-place was the chief centre of activity; here the judge held his court, and a profitable business he made of it by substituting money for punishments. shortly after the fall of el obeid the mahdi set himself to regulate his finances. the kordofan arabs, who had gained many successes over the government, and who had really taken up the mahdi's cause in anticipation of the loot they would acquire, were ordered to bring all their booty--down to the smallest article--to the mahdi at el obeid, and to enforce this order, parties of dervishes were sent out in various directions to forcibly drive in the arabs, who now regretted that they had so precipitately joined the mahdi in the first instance. everything was brought to the beit el mal, and there publicly sold; of the proceeds, one-fifth was given to the mahdi personally, and the remaining four-fifths were set aside as administrative revenue, but in point of fact a considerable portion of this sum also found its way into the mahdi's private treasury. a native of dar mahas, named ahmed wad suleiman and a great favourite of the mahdi, was given unlimited control over the beit el mal treasury. his master had had a divine revelation, pointing out that he was the one man to hold this responsible position, and in consequence he was unassailable. whenever the mahdi rode out on horseback, ahmed held the reins and walked barefooted at the horse's side. all learned men were despised and disliked by the mahdi, for he not unnaturally recognised a danger in their combating his claims by reference to divine books. consequently all such documents were ordered to be burnt, and any one who concealed a book did so at the risk of his life. the mahdi's object was to keep the people in ignorance by proclaiming that he was the centre of all light and knowledge; there were even flatterers to be found who asserted that they had seen flashes of light darting out of his head! he frequently indulged in visions, sometimes representing that he had been taken up in the spirit to the heavens, where he conversed with god and his prophet. to doubt the truth of these visions was an unpardonable offence. he entirely abolished all the rules and customs practised by the government. the wearing of the tarbush (fez) was strictly forbidden; if any one was seen wearing one, it was instantly pulled off and torn to shreds. all government registers were burnt, and debts contracted with the government considered cancelled. he ordered his adherents to call themselves foggara[e] or asyad.[f] his usual custom was to pray on a small straw mat placed in the divan of the mudirieh and in the presence of all his followers; a slave generally stood beside him with a pillow on which he either sat or knelt, as the case might be. when the prayers were over he received the visitors, conversed on matters of general interest, read his letters, and discoursed on the manners and customs of the turks with the object of making his hearers despise and laugh at them. he plunged wildly into the sensual delights of his immense harem. in place of wine he substituted a drink much appreciated in the sudan, consisting of date syrup mixed with ginger, of which he drank quantities out of the silver cups taken from the mission church in el obeid. in spite, however, of all this luxurious living, the mahdi did not omit to publish his new propaganda far and wide. he wrote several letters to the inhabitants of the gezireh (the country between the blue and white niles), calling on them to rise, and threatening all those who refused to obey the summons. numbers flocked to his standards, partly through fear and partly because they recognised the inability of the government to cope with the revolt. it was at this time that he despatched osman digna, who afterwards became so notorious, to the eastern sudan. this fanatical adherent of the mahdi copied the example of his master in every respect, wearing neither shoes nor sandals, and only riding during exceptionally long marches, his argument being that as the mahdi deigned to walk the earth, he thereby made it holy. a force was now despatched to capture sheikh tome of the kababish, who was reported to be in friendly communication with khartum. the unfortunate man was attacked by night, captured and dragged off in chains with his wife, child, slaves, and camels to el obeid. the mahdi was prepared to pardon him, but khalifa abdullah insisted on beheading him, which was done; this cruel act terrified the remainder of the tribe. during the last fifteen days of ramadan the mahdi attended to no public business, but gave himself up to fasting and prayer. the holidays following ramadan were set aside for military parades and manoeuvres, which served to rouse the fanatical ardour of his now numerous followers. [illustration: a native woman of dongola.] about this time a letter came from mustafa yawer, the mudir of dongola, to osman tobji; the latter was a most generous man, who gave much of his money to the poor and to widows and orphans, especially during the siege of el obeid; tobji had thus won the honour and respect of all, and on the fall of the town the mahdi returned to him the property he had captured; thereupon he at once set to work to relieve the distressed egyptian families who had been turned out of house and home, and whose property had been taken. in his letter mustafa yawer asked his friend tobji if mohammed ahmed were the real mahdi or not; this letter came into the mahdi's hands, and tobji was at once sent for and asked what reply he intended to give. osman answered, "when the sun has risen over the horizon it is visible to all, and no further proof of its existence is required--thus if the mahdi be the true mahdi, his works will bear witness of the truth." this evasive answer did not however satisfy the mahdi, who obliged tobji to sign a letter declaring that mohammed ahmed was the true mahdi, and this letter was then despatched to the mudir of dongola. the mahdi was well versed in the art of winning over people. his unruffled smile, pleasant manners, generosity and equable temperament, though at times somewhat severe, all tended to enhance the popular idea of him. he attributed the execution of said pasha and ali bey sherif to the khalifa abdullah, and when the two little sons of the latter were brought to him, the smiling hypocrite wept for their father's fate. the popular belief in him and his cause almost amounted to worship: women especially raved about him and thought him the most handsome of men. they swore by him in the words "hakk rabb el mahdi" (by the mahdi's god) or "hakk sayidna el imam" (by our lord, the imam); all solemn oaths and statements began with the words "aleik el mahdi el muntaser" (by the victorious mahdi); his virtues were extolled in poems, and constant reference was made to his good looks, wisdom, stature and to his repeated victories over the turks. the beggars used to learn off by heart special laudatory verses, and by reciting them from house to house they were sure to be given alms; to such an extent was this laudation carried that if a beggar sang songs in which the prophet's name occurred, he was at once interrupted and told to substitute the mahdi's for the prophet's name; at every street corner his praises were sung; soldiers on the march sang of his glorious victories; female slaves gathering wood, or laden with corn, or grinding it between the stones--all sang the same refrain, which indeed might be called the mahdi's national anthem, and began with the words "mahdi nur ainana" (the mahdi is the light of our eyes), or "el mahdi kammal et turk fi kana" (the mahdi conquered--lit. gave their full to--the turks at kana). the arabs delight in poetry, and during the night generally collected in parties, and seated on the sand sang the mahdi's praises, the two principal singers keeping time by beating the ground with their sticks, while the rest joined in the chorus at the end of each verse. inspired sometimes by their theme, they would stand up and flourish their swords in the air as if combating the turks, shouting "fi shan allah" (for god's cause). thus the adulation of the mahdi extended from the highest emir to the lowest slave, and woe to him who was ever heard to utter one word in deprecation or blame of the new prophet, he would at once be pounced upon and beaten to death with sticks. sometimes the mahdi was called "khalifat er rasul" (the successor of the prophet), and sometimes even they dignified him with the sacred title of nebbi (prophet). in truth the prophet mohammed occupied in the people's minds quite a secondary position, and the celebration of his birthday was forbidden by the mahdi. on one occasion a dispute occurred between two men; one argued that the mahdi would have a higher seat in heaven than the prophet, while the other maintained that "god was higher than the mahdi." the dispute waxed hot, and the case was referred to the judge, who settled the matter by saying that "the living was better than the dead," but at the same time the man who advocated the prophet's claims was relegated to prison, not so much for asserting what was perfectly true, that "god was higher than the mahdi," but that the tone in which he had said it was tantamount to an insult to the mahdi. naturally those moslems who still had some sense of the orthodox creed were much annoyed at this decision. early in april a messenger arrived from khartum with a letter from the austrian consul hansal. now as we were perfect strangers in el obeid, people did not dare to associate with us; the messenger therefore handed over the letter to george stambuli, who was then a man well known to every one. stambuli, who supplied us with all the necessaries of life, now came to us in a state of great excitement, bringing the letter in which he hoped to find some news of the outside world. we opened the letter, which was long and well-written, and found that it was directed to the mahdi. we read it and considered it a well-written letter; in it hansal called the mahdi "sheikh," and begged him to release us, receiving as a ransom such a sum as he should demand, and which he (hansal) was prepared to give. the bearer of the letter was then ordered to take it direct to the mahdi, but fearing that its contents might compromise him, he gave it to stambuli, who gave it as his opinion that the letter was useless, as he himself had been doing all in his power to effect our release, but was unable to do so. father bonomi, however, urged that as the letter was useless it was therefore harmless, and that there could be no objection to giving it to the mahdi; consequently it was taken to him, and he expressed himself much pleased with it; although he admitted that the system of ransoming was in vogue during the days of the prophet, he stated that it had been changed by him, as also was the tax per head formerly paid by christians. he, however, promised to give us protection until the coming of sayidna isa (jesus christ), when we should either have to turn moslems or die; thus the letter was of no good to us, and on the following day a rumour was spread abroad that the austrian consul had joined the mahdi. the messenger asked us to give him a few lines to take back, and thus prove that he had delivered the letter to us; so we and stambuli complied, and the messenger left for khartum; but he was followed by spies, and when at korsi--one and a half day's journey distant--he was searched by them, and the letters found in the saddle-bag on the donkey, consequently he was arrested, brought back, and thrown into chains. the false news was now rapidly circulated that an english post had arrived. father bonomi and i were at once summoned to read the letters. it occurred to us that our letters had probably been seized and that we were in some danger. i was not alarmed about my letter to hansal, for i had written in german, and there was no one besides myself in el obeid who understood german; but bonomi's letters had been written in italian, and there were several people who understood that language. as we entered the mudirieh we saw stambuli also coming. we were first taken to the khalifa sherif, who was lying on a straw mat in his hut; after greeting us, he lifted up the mat and drew out several letters, which we at once recognised as those we had written. the khalifa asked us if we had written them, and we replied in the affirmative. he thereupon produced a piece of paper on which bonomi had written that the messenger should receive six pounds. father bonomi translated this to the khalifa; stambuli was then called in, as he pretended to know a number of european languages, while in point of fact he knew little or nothing; when the paper was given to him to read he said that it contained a medical prescription, and this translation did not of course agree with bonomi's version. amidst the murmuring of the bystanders the khalifa now rose and bid us follow him into the divan of the mudirieh, and thence into the room adjoining that in which the mahdi was sitting with the khalifa abdullah. the latter had to keep his bed, for his leg had been broken by a fall from a horse; he had collided with another horseman, and in falling had been badly kicked. father bonomi and stambuli only were taken before the mahdi, whilst i was left in the room outside; there were a dervish and a greek also in the room, and as i was sitting on the ground near the door, the greek came up to me and told me that a sheikh wished to speak to me. i replied, "let the sheikh come to me if he wants to speak to me; i have nothing to ask of him." a few moments afterwards the sheikh came up to me in a furious rage, and without further ado attacked me with his fists, kicked me, and called me a christian dog; then seizing me by the leg he dragged me out towards the gate, where he said he intended to cut off my head. the sound of this struggle reached the mahdi's ears, and he sent a eunuch to take me out of the sheikh's hands. shortly afterwards the mahdi himself, bonomi, and stambuli came out, and were rather pleased than otherwise that my incident with the sheikh had interrupted their somewhat painful conversation. the mahdi did not appear angry, and as usual, smiled pleasantly all round; then, surrounded by his principal emirs, he performed the noonday prayers in the divan, while the multitude conformed to the prayers in the mudirieh courtyard. this over, he sat down on his mat and opened his audience, whilst a slave standing behind him fanned him and drove off the flies. numbers of people submitted their cases to him in a very low and humble tone of voice, and from the various gestures which took place, i concluded that he had given satisfaction to all. he then read aloud a letter from an influential sheikh in khartum, whose name i have forgotten; after which a number of sheikhs came in to take the oath of allegiance. during this ceremony the man taking the oath had to place his hand in the mahdi's right hand; then the latter repeated the oath in the following words: "thou consecratest thyself, thy children and thy property to the mahdi. thou shalt be guilty of no impurity; thou shalt not steal, nor drink alcohol; and thou shalt bind thyself to do thy duty in the jehad." the person to whom the oath was administered sealed it with a solemn "amen." if several persons took the oath together, they were obliged to repeat it in chorus, and at the conclusion they shouted "fi shan allah." when the audience was over, we asked the mahdi's permission to retire, which he allowed us to do. bonomi now gave us an account of his interview with the mahdi and khalifa abdullah. they had thought that we had written letters to the government at khartum, but they could not read the letters which, in point of fact, contained nothing political. bonomi had given the mahdi a short resumé of their contents with which he seemed pleased, but abdullah appeared dissatisfied. for the next eight days we were in considerable danger, and the one topic of conversation was what should be done to us. it was the general idea that we were to be beheaded; but stambuli was working his friends, and by dint of bribes the matter was hushed up, although i believe that we owed it principally to the good will and kindly disposition of the mahdi. after about ten days we were summoned before a certain emir named hajji khaled, who made enquiries about the letters, and we told him that we were prepared to translate literally every word. our fearless persistence impressed him, and he did not trouble us further. some of the european merchants could have translated the letters, but stambuli bribed them with twenty pounds, and on the th of april, thirteen days after the letters had been intercepted, the mahdi pardoned stambuli at a public meeting, and handed them back to him; then in the presence of two trustworthy friends of the mahdi, we translated them word for word into arabic, and gave them back to the mahdi, who, judging from their general tenour, appeared convinced of their harmlessness. footnotes: [e] pl. of fakir, _i.e._ a poor religious mendicant--one who has renounced the world. [f] pl. of sayid, _i.e._ a master. chapter v. the mahdi's victory over hicks pasha. the european captives learn that general hicks is advancing--slatin bey's defence of darfur--his heroism--the mahdi prepares to resist hicks--the march of the hicks expedition--extracts from the diary of major herlth--colonel farquhar's gallantry at rahad--gustav klootz deserts to the mahdi--klootz's interview with the mahdi in which ohrwalder and bonomi act as interpreters--the expedition advances towards shekan--is surrounded and annihilated--description of the battle--the mahdi victor of kordofan. in our present miserable plight all our hopes were directed on khartum, from whence we expected succour. hitherto we heard only vague rumours, but the news of the defeat and death of wad makashef on the white nile encouraged us to hope on. we had no idea who commanded the egyptian troops in this action. we were quite uncertain as to what policy the government would adopt regarding kordofan; and of course, at this time, false reports were flying about everywhere, and it was quite impossible to arrive at the truth. at first we were inclined to believe everything we heard, but gradually we found that we lived in such an atmosphere of lying and deceit that we arrived at believing almost nothing we heard. the sudanese proverb, "consider all news to be good and true, even if it be false," is universally acted on in the moslem world; and those who looked for help from the government always hoped for good news, and seized on the smallest pretext to give colour to their expectations; their belief in dreams which never came true accentuated their misery. it was useless to try and enlighten these poor ignorant people, contradiction only made them annoyed. fortune-tellers were often consulted about the future, and naturally they foretold what they thought their interrogators wanted to hear, and thus gave them hope for a short time; but when it turned out incorrect--as was invariably the case--it only increased their depression. god, in his mercy, sent a ray of light into the darkness of our captivity, which again kindled the hope of succour which had been well-nigh quite extinguished. on the st of june, , a man came into our little hut and asked in a scared sort of way if we were the missionaries. after repeated assurances that we were, the man took courage and withdrew from his trousers a little note, which he had concealed very carefully, and handed it to father bonomi, who at once tore it open in nervous haste and eagerly scanned the few lines which were to give us a new life. the note was signed by marcopoli bey, by order of general hicks, and was to the effect that we should not abandon hope, for as soon as the winter season began, a large army would advance into the sudan to attack the mahdi. we kissed that dirty little bit of paper, and thanked god most heartily for sending us news so full of comfort. we became reassured, and now our dark future gave place to cheerful hopes which brightened the few months of anxious delay which followed the receipt of this note. the letter was dated from the white nile, where the general had already gained a victory over wad makashef, and soon the news of the intended expedition against the mahdi spread like wildfire through the camp. [illustration: hicks pasha.] it appears that consul hansal also wrote a letter to the mahdi, but the latter said nothing to us about it. amina, one of our black girls whom the mahdi had taken as a concubine, said she saw in the mahdi's hand a letter with a large seal, on which the "double-headed eagle" was represented; but the mahdi does not appear to have taken much notice of it. in darfur the news of the intended hicks expedition had considerable effect. slatin, the governor-general, had been fighting continuously against the natives of darfur and against the rizighat, habbanieh, and other arab tribes; he was now in the north, then in the south, combating with bravery and unusual rapidity the various revolts which sprang up throughout his province. he was a scourge to the arabs and killed thousands of them; he even pursued them into the almost inaccessible hills and valleys of jebel marra. his powers of endurance were wonderful, and he would often be twenty-four hours in the saddle, constantly fighting, and with nothing to eat or drink. he slept on the bare floor or ground beside his native soldiers, and lived on dhurra soaked in water; he was just, never took bribes, generous, ever ready to assist the poor and needy, and never refused admittance to old and young who sought his help. in spite, however, of his having--as he himself told me--fought in twenty-seven battles against the arabs, he could not crush them, for they were like fungus growing out of the earth. in action slatin was most heroic. on one occasion he was struck by a bullet which shattered one of his fingers; but, undismayed, he seized the hanging remnant with his other hand and ordered the man standing next him to cut it off with his knife; then he joined again in the fight, and cheered his men on to victory. not only in kordofan, but throughout the entire sudan, he was celebrated for his bravery in the face of the enemy. still he was powerless to cope with the extensive revolt in his province, and obtained little support from his egyptian officers, who were jealous and constantly intrigued against him; yet it was the wonder of all that he succeeded in holding out so long. at length, when his ammunition was almost finished, came the news of hicks's projected expedition, and to gain time he resorted to the following expedient. his vakil was a man named mohammed zogal, uncle to the mahdi, and a man of sense; with him slatin came to a private understanding, and it was agreed that zogal should pay a visit to the mahdi, inform him that slatin was prepared to submit, provided he was permitted to hold his present position, and then he was to return and bring back full information regarding the mahdi, his power, &c., and at the same time endeavour to arrange for a suspension of hostilities pending the arrival of hicks. should hicks be victorious then slatin and darfur would be saved, otherwise all would be lost; but this plan, if successful, would enable slatin to hold out until hicks came, which he could not otherwise have done. zogal set out on his journey and arrived at el obeid early in september , where he was warmly welcomed by the mahdi. the latter was much pleased with slatin's proposition, and ordered a salute of one hundred guns to be fired to announce his surrender. the mahdi could now turn his entire attention to his preparations to resist the advance of general hicks, concerning the number of whose troops the wildest reports were circulated. on learning of his departure from omdurman on the th of september, he issued a proclamation instructing his emirs to read it to their followers. in it he, as usual, styled himself the mahdi sent by god to defeat the turks, who were the enemies of god and his prophet, and that his mission was to conquer the world; he extolled the virtues of holy war and promised paradise and its joys to all those who fell fighting in the holy cause. he now quitted el obeid and pitched his tent under a large adansonia tree outside the walls; his three khalifas and their followers copied his example, and this was the signal for the whole town to be evacuated. the life of ease and comfort was abandoned and people collected round their emirs' flags, so that in a short time an enormous camp was formed in anticipation of the great battle. couriers were sent in all directions to proclaim that anyone who refused to follow the mahdi would have his hand and foot cut off; all men joined willingly, the mahdi's camp daily grew larger, and straw huts (or tokuls) soon covered the plain, though the people were allowed in turns to go back to the town at night. detachments of troops were sent to various parts of kordofan to collect the dervishes, and whole tribes streamed from all directions towards el obeid. daily manoeuvres and reviews were held, and guns fired repeatedly so that the horses should get accustomed to the noise. thus the mahdi instilled great enthusiasm into the masses, and we began to have some fear for hicks. the mahdi now despatched the three emirs, abdel halim wad el hashmi, hajji mohammed abu girgeh, and omar elias pasha, with their followers, to duem. they were instructed to watch the movements of hicks's force, and when it left the white nile, to cut his communication; they were then to harass his march as much as possible, but not to bring on a general engagement. all these orders were admirably carried out. general hicks left duem on the th of september, , and marched in a south-westerly direction through shatt, zeregga, aigella, shirkeleh, and rahad, which he reached on the th of october, leaving tagalla and jebel dair on the left. the inhabitants of the districts through which the troops passed, quitted their villages and carried off all their goods, so that when the troops arrived they found nothing but straw huts, which the soldiers at first set fire to; but general hicks soon forbade this practice. the ill-fated army scarcely met a living soul, but flocks of vultures followed them as if waiting for their prey. shortly after the annihilation of the army, a small and incomplete diary belonging to an austrian officer, major herlth, came into my hands, but it was sufficient to give me an insight into the wretched condition of this force. the facts were briefly as follows: it was expected that on the arrival of the army at shirkeleh, it would be joined by several thousand tagalla people, and it was hoped that this reinforcement would inspire the troops with some life and energy, which they entirely lacked; but these reinforcements never appeared. major herlth described the troops as anything but good, and frequently refers to the want of agreement between the two commanders--general hicks with his small body of european officers on the one hand, and ala ed din pasha, governor-general of the sudan, a man imbued with the old turkish system, on the other. the european officers were convinced that the expedition would not be successful; the camels were badly looked after, hundreds died every day, and their loads were piled on to the others which were still alive; saddles were for the most part without straw, so that the bare wood rubbing on their backs made terrible wounds. almost all the horses had died before the force reached rahad. general hicks had also great trouble in keeping the men together; numbers of them had recently been fighting against the english with arabi pasha, and had been forcibly sent to the sudan. it is also strange that the shorter route from duem to bara, on which there was plenty of water, was not chosen in preference to the long roundabout road they took. while the latter route led through forests and long grass, the former was entirely free from these obstructions, and, moreover, the friendly kababish tribe would have supported them on their northern flank. there was still another circumstance which contributed to the final disaster--the guides were treacherous, and led the army into the hands of the dervishes; indeed, it was an open secret in the camp at el obeid that the guides had been sent by the mahdi. at rahad, hicks expected to have been joined by five hundred baggara horsemen, and it is true a number of horsemen were seen in the distance, and a white flag was shown; but the riders did not approach, and it was soon evident that they were enemies. the force was in such a miserable and wretched condition that the emir, abdel halim, begged permission of the mahdi to be allowed to attack it with his own followers; but this the mahdi would not permit him to do, as he wanted to have all the honour and glory of victory for himself. every day information about the movements of the egyptian troops was sent to the mahdi; sometimes reports reached him twice a day, and were always of the same tenour, viz. that the men had no heart to fight. had an expedition been coming which had the elements of success in it, public opinion would have shown itself by numbers deserting the mahdi's standards; but they had heard nothing of hicks's early successes, and now the only reports that reached them were that the army was in a hopeless condition. all this only made the mahdi's prestige the greater, and it must be remembered that the latter was an adept at inspiring fanaticism. one of general hicks's spies was captured, and he was at once impaled on lances. the following extracts, which i give from memory, from major herlth's diary will show how demoralised the expedition had become. the camp was pitched at rahad on a small eminence near the khor abu habl, whilst the enemy, who were concealed on the opposite side in the high grass and under the trees, fired incessantly at the egyptians and killed a number of them. one bullet entered hicks's tent and struck the seat on which he was sitting; he then gave orders that the grass and woods should be at once cleared of the enemy. there was still a little water in the khor, and as it seemed to be deep, a consultation was held as to how it should best be crossed. the discussion lasted an hour. at length a few, more courageous than the rest, decided to try and wade across, and to their intense surprise found that it was quite shallow and easily fordable; they then crossed over and drove back the enemy, killing seven of them. while at rahad, it was discovered that the camp out of which they had marched the previous day had been entered, and everything that they had left behind had been taken. it was now evident that the enemy were in greater force than they had thought, and in consequence general hicks made an entrenchment and put guns into position, which were fired with some effect, as one shell killed no less than thirteen men. this news was sent to the mahdi. at el obeid the slow advance of the troops could not be understood, and this had a still more convincing effect on the dervishes that the expedition must be in a bad way. it was a matter of no surprise that the troops had not been victorious, as it was known that every element of success was wanting; as for the poor egyptians, the capture of a cow was an event of great importance, and general hicks ordered every officer to be given a piece of it. colonel farquhar, chief of the staff, did all he could to raise the courage of the soldiers. on one occasion some horsemen were seen a short distance away sitting fearlessly on their horses as if challenging anyone to come out and fight them. when farquhar saw them he mounted his horse and advanced straight on them. when he approached they began to retire, but he went in pursuit, and coming up with them killed two, the third he pulled off his horse, and capturing the horses brought them back to camp. in spite, however, of such a gallant example, the men were listless and out of heart; the long marches had thoroughly exhausted them. [illustration: colonel arthur farquhar. (_chief of the staff._)] at rahad, gustav klootz, a native of berlin, deserted the army. he was baron seckendorf's servant; but at shirkeleh he quitted his master's service, and became the servant of mr. o'donovan, correspondent of the _daily news_. klootz had certain socialistic tendencies, which caused him to change masters, and there is no doubt that these ideas had much to do with his desertion. he and a native of saxony determined to escape secretly, and on the plea of gathering wood outside the camp, these two men succeeded one evening in passing the outposts. no sooner had they gone beyond the line than they heard firing, and the saxony man, fearing a sudden attack, at once turned back to camp, whilst klootz continued his flight. when he had gone a short distance he fired two shots, one to make the egyptians believe that the enemy was close to them, and the other to make the enemy think that they were close to the egyptian outposts. when night came on he lay down under a tree to sleep, regardless of the fact that he was between two enemies; and the next morning he began to debate with himself whether, after all, it would not be better to return. he would not have hesitated for an instant had he not thought that perhaps the saxony man had betrayed his desertion. at length he decided there was nothing for it but to go on towards the dervishes. after going some distance he saw three dirty-looking men who pointed their rifles at him; but he signed to them that he was not coming as an enemy, and to further reassure them, he threw down his rifle and revolver on the ground, and advanced towards them. the arabs also approached; but klootz, who did not understand a word of arabic, called out, "dervish--where is the dervish?" (by "dervish" he meant the mahdi.) the arabs understood perfectly what he wanted to say, but at that moment they were thinking much more of the loot they saw before them than of the mahdi; so they seized the little money klootz had, and took possession of his watch, rifle, revolver, and even his boots. klootz soon realised into whose hands he had fallen, for these arabs, having taken everything from him, then directed him towards the dervish camp. on he plodded barefooted, through the long grass, and often over thorns, until at last he met an old woman, who made him understand by gestures that he was close on the camp. a few moments later several horsemen appeared, and, surrounding him, took him in triumph to abu girgeh; for they thought at length they had captured a hated englishman. klootz, to his astonishment, now found himself in a large entrenched camp, where the dervishes were living in perfect safety. the horsemen had told abu girgeh that they had found him sitting in a tree writing, so he was at once put in chains, tied tightly to a bedstead, and then interrogated about hicks's troops. at the same time a messenger was sent to the mahdi to inquire what should be done with the englishman. the mahdi ordered that he should be at once brought to el obeid; the chains were therefore removed, and a rope put round his neck, by which he was drawn by horsemen to the mahdi's camp. the journey lasted a day and a half, and he was obliged to walk the whole way barefooted in the burning sun, so that when he reached el obeid his feet were swollen up and in a dreadful condition. as swift as lightning the news now spread through the camp that an english officer had been captured. who could the unfortunate man be? we wondered. when klootz was brought before the mahdi all he could say was that he was nimsawi (a german). the mahdi therefore summoned stambuli, bonomi, and myself, to act as interpreters. when we entered the crowded enclosure everyone understood the object of our coming; most of them were busy cleaning their lances, and shouted out after us, "mind you make careful inquiries of him." there was such a crowd in front of the mahdi's tent that it was almost impossible to make our way through; but at last there was a cry of "ahl delen" ("here are the delen people"), and they made way for us. we took off our shoes, and were shown into the mahdi's presence. i was intensely anxious to see who this englishman might be; we had seen nothing but black faces for so long, that had he been a creature from the other world, we could not have been more interested; then we were on tenter-hooks to know how the expedition was progressing, whether it was under english command, &c., &c. of course general hicks's name was well known, but we knew nothing about the composition of his force. when we entered we saw the mahdi, the supposed english officer, and ahmed wad suleiman sitting on a straw mat. we saluted the mahdi, who returned our salute in a most gracious manner. he was smiling, and seemed much pleased. he introduced the englishman to me, and asked me to question him about his coming. my imagination, in which i had pictured an englishman, received a rude shock, for i beheld before me a young man with blonde hair, blue eyes, a sunburnt face, and a nose from which the skin was peeled off. he wore a dirty tarbush; his clothes were made of rough canvas, and he looked very much like the fireman of an engine. before anything else i expressed to him my sincere pity at his having fallen into the hands of savages, for i did not then know that he had come of his own accord. i asked him his name; he replied, "gustav klootz, of berlin," and said that he was the correspondent of an important newspaper. he afterwards gave me a true account of himself. i translated everything to the mahdi. i then asked him about the state of the army. he said that it consisted of barely , men, and he added that it was generally believed by the european officers that they would be defeated. it was with the greatest difficulty that i concealed the blow to my feelings which this news occasioned. i asked him why he deserted, and he excused himself by saying that he did so to save his life. i now knew that he could be no soldier; but, of course, i did not translate to the mahdi the wretched account he gave of the army. at this moment i received a kick in the ribs from ahmed wad suleiman, who cried out, "ask him how many guns are in possession of the unbelievers?" i was then given a small book, which turned out to be klootz's diary, and was told to translate it. there were only a few leaves, in which the date of departure from shatt and other places was noted; the number of camels that died daily; a few observations on his master, and sundry other things. the mahdi then asked whether, if he wrote to hicks, he would be likely to surrender, to which klootz naturally replied that he was sure nothing would induce him to do so. the mahdi further asked whether klootz thought he or general hicks was the more powerful, to which klootz answered that he thought the mahdi would be successful; but that he would probably lose a number of his followers, as hicks's force was well supplied with good firearms, to which wad suleiman added, "death will be our reward." the mahdi seemed delighted with the news he had received, and ordered a plate of fried meat to be brought, which he shared with us, eating with his fingers. it was considered a very high favour when he touched the plate with his hand, and handed a small piece of meat to those who sat with him, and this favour he conferred on us. it was rather striking that he should have done this, for many moslems consider it wrong even to eat in the presence of christians. when the meal was over he dismissed us, and klootz was handed over to stambuli till further orders. just as we got outside the hut, klootz and i were called in again. the mahdi was now quite alone. he ordered us to sit down on the floor, and then whispered in my ear, "tell this man he may count on the best of treatment if he will turn moslem; if not, he must die." i explained this to klootz in german, and he replied that he was quite prepared to do anything the mahdi required; whereupon the latter presented him with his shoes and a jibbeh, and named him "mustafa," as it struck him that there was a similarity of sound between mustafa and gustav. when we left the hut we found an enormous crowd of people all clamouring to know what the englishman had said. of course everyone wanted to see him, and it was impossible for us to move a step. stambuli, therefore, procured a horse, mounted klootz upon it, and in this manner we proceeded to stambuli's house. we did not at first believe in klootz's statement, and thought that he must have purposely given the mahdi false information, so as to gain favour and save his own skin; but when we were alone together, i bound him by a solemn oath to tell me the absolute truth, and, to my astonishment, he told me he had nothing to add to what he had already said. it is impossible to describe our misery when we heard klootz's report. we had counted for months on the success of the expedition to deliver us from the hands of our enemies, and now all our bright hopes were rapidly fading away, and again a gloomy future yawned in front of us. general hicks left rahad on the th of october, and arrived at aluba on the th; here he received the mahdi's letter summoning him to submit. of course this was taken no notice of, and on the rd of november the army advanced towards kashgeil, which is about twelve miles south of el obeid. in the meantime the mahdi had been collecting his followers, and doing all in his power to inspire them with wild fanaticism; anyone who saw the enormous hordes of savages which were brought together, must have trembled for the fate of hicks. it was said that the mahdi had been promised the assistance of , angels from paradise, and everyone quite believed in the truth of this assertion. anyone beholding this immense multitude of fanatics of every race and age, even though he had formerly been a disbeliever in the mahdi, must now have been convinced of his divinity. the uneducated masses of the sudan are entirely governed by the influence of external appearances, they had never heard or seen anything of this description before; now heralds were going from end to end of the camp foretelling the death of everyone who refused to follow the mahdi. on the st of november, mohammed ahmed quitted el obeid, and everyone--man, woman, and child--followed him. every house was evacuated, and woe to him who attempted to hide himself! wad gubara and his flag alone remained behind as garrison of el obeid. the throng, noisy bustle and din of the camp suddenly gave way to almost absolute silence--the silence of the grave. the days which followed were for us a period of terrible anxiety. although we felt almost certain that a terrible catastrophe was about to take place, yet we still had a slight hope that, with the help of european leaders, good rifles, and machine-guns, the result might be different. abu anga, who had separated from his jehadieh (black troops) just the day before, now joined the powerful division of abdel halim, and on the rd of november the mahdi's followers also joined this division, whilst the mahdi himself, accompanied by his khalifas, set out for birket. it was on the rd of november that the action actually began, for, in accordance with the mahdi's orders, his followers had gradually completely encircled the troops, who were now opposed by black soldiers with remington rifles, wad en nejumi's gellabas, and the flags of abdel halim, sherif mahmud, and many others. in the attack which occurred on this date, the dervishes were forced back with the loss of fauzi, one of the mahdi's katibs, elias pasha's son, and the son of hajji khaled; but general hicks's losses were considerably greater; he had also run short of water, and was doing his utmost to dig wells, though he did not know that within fifteen minutes' walk of him there was a large reservoir of rain-water. what days of terrible anxiety these must have been for the principal officers, and especially for general hicks, on whom the entire responsibility rested! major herlth's diary stops abruptly on the th of november; he writes on that day that dr. georges bey was wounded the previous day and died shortly afterwards. as far as i can remember, the major then continues:--"these are bad times; we are in a forest, and everyone very depressed. the general orders the band to play, hoping that the music may enliven us a little; but the bands soon stop, for the bullets are flying from all directions, and camels, mules, and men keep dropping down; we are all cramped up together, so the bullets cannot fail to strike. we are faint and weary, and have no idea what to do. the general gives the order to halt and make a zariba. it is sunday, and my dear brother's birthday. would to god that i could sit down and talk to him for an hour! the bullets are falling thicker...." here the writer suddenly breaks off; possibly a bullet had penetrated his weary heart. the ring of encircling dervishes was gradually drawing in and enclosing the ill-fated troops. the greatest destruction was done by abu anga's men who may be said to have destroyed the army; hidden behind shrubs and bushes, they fired incessantly at very close range into the midst of the egyptians. one of abu anga's men told me that he alone had fired one hundred and fifty rounds. on that terrible sunday general hicks had to abandon a number of guns, for he had no mules to carry them. dire confusion prevailed everywhere, the troops were suffering terribly from thirst, discipline was gone, and the men could not even lay their guns properly. klootz, whom the khalifa abdullah took with him, told me that he was some way from the place where the actual fighting was going on, and that the shells were striking the branches overhead. it would seem that the army made three attempts to break through the dervish lines, but failed, and klootz told me that the bodies were scattered in three large heaps extending over a distance of nearly two miles. the largest heap was in the forest of shekan near kashgeil, and it was here that the dervishes fell on the remainder of the force and the european officers, and killed them with their lances on the th of november. according to the evidence of the dervishes themselves, the european officers fought most heroically. general hicks was one of the last to fall; he had emptied his revolver, and, holding his sword in his right hand, waited for the rush of the enemy; he was soon surrounded and his horse wounded in the back; he then dismounted and fought most gallantly with his sword until he fell, pierced by several spears. the heroism of these brave men was the admiration of all. after the massacre the bodies were stripped and mutilated. even long after the battle those who were present used to talk of the terrible spectacle of all these bodies lying with their mouths gaping open and covered with blood. these savages used to plunge their spears into the bodies of the dead so as to dip them in the bloody entrails of their enemies, and for long after they talked and revelled over the yellow-looking fat of the "turks," which protruded through their gaping wounds. baron seckendorf, who was remarkable for his enormous size, had been beheaded, and his head was taken to the mahdi; it was thought that he must have been general hicks. a few escaped by hiding themselves under the heaps of dead bodies or behind guns or waggons; at the end of the action these were all collected, and numbered one hundred persons. during the actual fighting no quarter was given. an egyptian soldier pursued by some dervishes fled towards the khalifa sherif and begged to be spared; but the latter laughed at his fear, and he was at once despatched with spears. the dervishes then collected their dead and laid them out in a line. it seems almost incredible to say so, but there were only three hundred and fifty in all killed. the mahdi offered up a prayer over them, and then they were buried. the dead bodies of the egyptians were left a prey to the vultures and hyenas. klootz, who said that he understood doctoring, was permitted by the mahdi to collect all the medicines in the field, and when doing so he was enabled to examine the bodies of the europeans. he told me that it was with the greatest difficulty he kept himself from breaking down when he saw the mutilated corpses of those with whom he had but a short time ago laughed and spoken. the body of a soldier was seen hanging between earth and sky; he had evidently climbed up an adansonia tree in search of water, when a bullet must have killed him, and in falling he was caught by the branches. amongst those who escaped was a man named abderrahman ben en naga bey, whose father, then in el obeid, had entreated the mahdi to spare him. a few days before the catastrophe he was found writing letters to omar wad elias pasha, then with abdel halim's force; in consequence he and his men had been put in irons, and it was ala ed din pasha's intention to execute him; but hicks would not allow it, saying that he would be fairly tried after el obeid was captured. ben en naga was in the thickest of the fight, and had already lost an eye, when his father's slaves succeeded in reaching him and saving his life. [illustration: a baggara emir, present at the annihilation of the hicks expedition, and afterwards captured at toski.] the mahdi and his followers were greatly delighted, for they had not calculated on such a complete victory, and a messenger was at once despatched to el obeid to order a salute of one hundred guns to be fired. it was early on tuesday morning, the th of november, that the thunder of the guns was heard in the camp, and our alarm at this terrible news can well be understood. our bright hopes, which enabled us to support a wretched existence for more than a year, were rudely dashed to the ground. we now gave up all idea of the government sending a second expedition. it was clear that khartum must look to its own safety, and as the mahdi had in the first instance gained possession of kordofan through his victory over yusef pasha esh shellali, so now his annihilation of general hicks's force placed almost the entire sudan in his hands. chapter vi. the mahdi's triumphal entry into el obeid. fall of darfur--slatin surrenders--the mahdi's divinity credited after the annihilation of hicks--king adam of tagalla--stambuli's kindness to the european captives--gordon writes to the mahdi--power's letter--the sisters seized and distributed amongst the emirs--they are tortured--the missionaries turned into slaves--the terrible journey to rahad--the greeks come to the help of the sisters--the proclamation concerning the treatment of priests and hermits by mohammedans--the mahdi at rahad--ohrwalder's interviews with the mahdi concerning religion--the dervishes attack the nubas. the mahdi remained seven days with his entire force at birket, so as to collect families and stragglers and to take possession of the loot which the greedy arabs had seized and refused to give up. several of the latter were flogged, and seven slaves belonging to the mahdi's uncle, sayid mohammed taha, suffered the loss of a hand and a foot because they had kept for themselves some of the mahdi's booty. the loot referred to consisted of war material, such as krupp guns, machine guns, and remington rifles, besides a number of axes, pickaxes, and shovels, which were required for making zaribas; a quantity of money, watches, and clothing, was also included, and the whole was carried off to the beit el mal. some of the dead bodies were secretly set fire to, so as to make the ignorant people think that these unbelievers were being consumed by hell-fire. general hicks's white horse was handed over to klootz with orders to cure the wound in its back. at length the pestilential smell of thousands of dead bodies of men and animals drove the conquerors forward. the mahdi's entry into el obeid was a scene of wild enthusiasm and excitement. the many-coloured flags came first, then followed thousands upon thousands of dervishes moving to the ever-swelling murmur of "la ilaha il'lallah" ("there is no god but god"), whilst others danced out of the ranks and shook their blood-bespotted spears, uttering fearful yells. after them followed the cavalry with the three khalifas. every now and then a halt was made, when a number of riders would dash forward at full gallop, poising their lances ready for the thrust, and then would return to the ranks amidst the loud applause of the others. after the cavalry followed a few prisoners, the wretched remnant of hicks's army. most of them were naked, and were being dragged forward under the continual insults of the dervishes; then came the guns drawn by wounded mules, and last of all came the mahdi himself, riding a magnificent white camel, and surrounded by his most fanatical adherents, whose monotonous "la ilaha il'lallah" resembled the sound of a rushing stream. clouds of dust filled the air, and as the mahdi passed by, the spectators threw themselves down and kissed the ground, whilst the women shouted "mahdi allah" ("the mahdi of god"). such a scene of wild triumph had never before been witnessed. the mahdi was now honoured almost as a god. this victory gained for him an enormous increase of power and respect. the fear of his name sped like wildfire throughout every province and district in the sudan. he was now regarded as the true mahdi, every moslem believed in him, and all doubt was put aside. at the battle near shekan numbers of people said they saw the angels whom the mahdi had summoned to fight against the turks. he now became the object of almost superhuman adoration; even the water with which he washed himself was handed by the eunuchs to the believers, who drank it with avidity as an antidote to all ills and diseases. after a time the captured egyptians were released, and many died in a state of beggary in the market-place at el obeid. the captured blacks were distributed amongst the beit el mal soldiers, and were known by the name of "hiksani," for example, morgan hiksani. it was one of the mahdi institutions that slaves should--besides their own names--bear also the names of their masters. our delen blacks were also given my name, "yusef." of course it would have been more correct if they had called them after our chief, luigi bonomi, but the arabs found this name rather difficult to pronounce. the mahdi now became more imperious, and his success made him bolder and more confident. he despatched letters to various parts of the world, proving the divinity of his mission by his success in arms, and summoning all to rise against the turks. he wrote very strongly to the inhabitants of the gezireh, threatening them with fire and sword if they refused to rise against the government and join him. having rid himself of his enemies, the mahdi now turned his attention to darfur. he appointed his uncle, zogal bey, who was known as sayid mohammed khaled, emir of darfur, and sent him to that province, accompanied by abdel samad, the son of ahmed sharfi, and omar wad elias. khalifa sherif, immediately after the victory over hicks, urged the mahdi to advance to the white nile and attack khartum, which he might easily have done, but the mahdi was anxious first of all to secure darfur, and he also wished to rest on his laurels a little longer. he wrote to slatin bey informing him of the destruction of hicks's army, and he also forced klootz to write to the same effect. zogal started on the th of december, , and proceeded in the first instance to dara, where slatin was at that time. he then sent in a messenger with the mahdi's letter, in which he was called upon to surrender. zogal well knew that this was a mere formality, for slatin was quite unable to hold out any longer, and he had only five cartridges per man left; his men too refused to make any further stand. slatin, therefore, on receipt of the letter, rode out to zogal and submitted. the dervishes then entered dara, and as usual began to plunder. zogal subsequently proceeded to el fasher, which was at that time commanded by the mudir, said bey guma, who had put the town in a state of defence. in spite of the wells being beyond the lines, said bey offered a resistance which from the outset was hopeless; seven days later, that is to say on the th of january, , he surrendered. kebkebieh also yielded to zogal, and omshanga had already submitted. thus the populous and valuable province of darfur, which had cost egypt much blood and money, was entirely lost in the short space of eight days. in the meantime the mahdi had despatched his son-in-law, wad el beshir, to the gezireh to head the revolt against the government in that district. the mahdi showed his wisdom in never attempting to invade a district which had not previously declared in his favour. when he heard of the submission of el fasher and dara, he despatched abu girgeh to undertake the siege of khartum. the latter left with only a small body of troops, but numbers joined him on the way, especially when he reached the white nile; so that he was not afraid of advancing towards the capital. thus through his victory at shekan, the mahdi had virtually made himself master of the whole sudan from the red sea to the boundaries of waddai, and from the bahr el ghazal to dongola. all eyes were turned to him, and the majority of the people believed him to be the true mahdi; some thought he must be a great magician. even now at the present time, when he has already been six years in his grave, and the fallacy and misery wrought by mahdiism are thoroughly admitted, still his wonderful success is attributed to witchcraft. his own countrymen--the danagla--although they now admit he was not the mahdi, say that he was undoubtedly a very holy man, and was supernaturally endowed by god with extraordinary authority and wisdom. amongst others who feared the mahdi's power was king adam of tagalla, who with his wife, child, and slaves, came down from his mountain retreat and surrendered. for a long time the king's kadi had endeavoured to convince his master that mohammed ahmed was not the true mahdi, and did his utmost to dissuade him from joining; but after the defeat of hicks, adam delayed no longer, and moreover took his kadi with him. when they reached melbeis, about three hours' journey from el obeid, the kadi deserted, but he was recaptured, put in chains, and brought with the king to el obeid. on their arrival near the town, khalifa abdullah went out with a large retinue to meet adam, who had a great reputation throughout kordofan, and greeted him most cordially. a salute was fired, and every one rejoiced at the mahdi's bloodless victory. king adam was warmly welcomed by the mahdi, given a special place to live in, and treated with the greatest respect. to gain still more favour in the mahdi's eyes, adam sent him six of his prettiest young girls as concubines. after a short time, however, the mountain king seemed to tire of residence in el obeid and began to suffer from melancholia. in his mountains he was absolute master, here in el obeid he was nothing but a slave. at first he thought he would be permitted to return to his mountains, but soon he had to give up all hope of this; and before long he realised that one of the first principles of mahdiism was that those who were fortunate enough to behold its light would never be permitted to wander back into darkness. now he bitterly repented that he had not accepted his kadi's advice, while the spies by whom he was surrounded soon let the mahdi know what the kadi's opinions were; and when khalifa abdullah learnt that he meditated flight, he at once had him seized and beheaded. thus was the unfortunate adam intimidated; then his horses were taken from him, and last of all, to save his life, he had to sell his wives. almost all the inhabitants of jebel nuba sent messengers to say that they were the mahdi's subjects. even in khartum already numbers were inclined to him. in proof of this statement, the case of the sub-mudir of the town, wad gesuli, may be quoted. when this individual heard of gordon's arrival at berber, he at once fled from khartum and came to el obeid, where he threw himself at the mahdi's feet and assured him that the inhabitants of khartum to a man were on his side. all hope of release now seemed at an end. our pitiful condition was somewhat lightened through the kind offices of our syrian friend, george stambuli, who was both the mahdi's favourite and our benefactor at the same time, and he supplied us with the necessaries of life. the sisters made jibbehs (dervish coats), which stambuli sold and gave us the proceeds. we obtained the material chiefly from the clothes of the soldiers who had been killed, and from the officers' tunics. o'donovan's mackintosh and some other articles of clothing which klootz recognised came into our hands and were soon cut up. most of the clothing was stained with blood, which we were obliged to wash out; but what bitter thoughts occupied our minds in this sad task! towards the end of january an unfortunate incident occurred which brought us into difficulties. one of stambuli's female slaves, having come to an understanding with his dongolawi servant, went to the khalifa abdullah and reported that her master was a christian, and prayed daily. stambuli's suspicions were aroused, and that evening he hid away everything which could be brought up against him, except a small silver cross which his little daughter wore round her neck. almost before dawn his house was surrounded by a number of dervishes, and nejumi with wad suleiman, who had been ordered to take possession of his house, broke into it and began a thorough search. stambuli who, since the fall of el obeid, had never been questioned, had his house full of all sorts of things, and was also in possession of a quantity of gum and ostrich feathers. the house was turned upside down, but nothing of an implicating nature could be found: the slave had, however, mentioned the little girl's cross, and the inquisitors demanded to see the children; when they saw the cross they at once asked what it was. stambuli replied that it was an ornament which had no special signification, and wad suleiman then pulled it off the child's neck and kept it. i must here remark that numbers of people were very envious and jealous of stambuli, and did not at all care to see a white man in possession of all this property; they therefore took every occasion to rob and steal from him. stambuli was now put into chains, whilst his property was carried off to the beit el mal. it was decided that he was to be beheaded, but his syrian countrymen and the greeks consulted together, then went to the mahdi and begged for his life. they were kindly received by the latter, who gave them some hope, and fifteen days later stambuli was pardoned. he was obliged to appear before the mahdi with a shebba (_i.e._ a long piece of forked wood in which the neck was placed, and which had the effect of forcing the head back), and in this condition he was obliged to implore the mahdi's forgiveness. his property was never returned to him, and he could support us no more. father bonomi seized this opportunity to write to the mahdi and beg for our release, which he had so frequently promised. the mahdi wrote several kind words on the reverse of the petition, but they meant nothing; he said father bonomi was aware with what affection he regarded him, and that, therefore, he could not bear the thought of losing him. at the same time he instructed wad suleiman to give us whatever was necessary for our sustenance from the beit el mal; this occurred on the th of february, . just at this time, when all hopes of release seemed at an end, god sent us light in the midst of our darkness. some people arrived from khartum and reported that gordon pasha had reached there and had been received with great enthusiasm. the alarm with which this news was received by the mahdi and his adherents, and the delight which it occasioned to those who still hoped for deliverance, can readily be understood. the mahdi, who thought the sudan was actually in his grasp, was thoroughly upset, for it was generally believed that gordon had brought englishmen with him. a few days later he received a letter from gordon, and the anxiety to know what it contained was enormous. nothing else was talked about, and when the mahdi ordered the letter to be read in public the disappointment was very great. in this letter gordon offered the mahdi the whole of the western sudan, of which he said he should be considered the sultan. he authorised the continuance of the slave trade, and free transit to all pilgrims going to mecca; and, in conclusion, he asked for the release of the prisoners. the mahdi laughed at gordon's proposals, and thought him a very cunning unbeliever, who was attempting to delude him with vain promises merely to gain time. he could not understand how it was gordon came to offer him what he already possessed some time ago; and he remarked that the very ground on which gordon was standing was practically in his hands. the fact that gordon had brought no troops with him served to further increase his pride, and his reply was couched in the following terms:--he said that when he was at abba island he had warned the government officials that if they refused to recognise him as the mahdi, they would undoubtedly perish. he had repeated the same warning to yusef pasha esh shellali, and to hicks pasha. he informed him of the surrender of darfur, and concluded by saying that he had no desire for worldly benefits. his object was to reform the people, and he invited gordon to come and join him. with the letter the mahdi sent him a complete set of dervish garments, viz. a jibbeh, takia, turban, girth, and pair of sandals. meanwhile the mahdi had despatched the emir abu anga with some troops, also the emirs wad nejumi and abdullah wad en nur to jebel dair, where the king (mek) kumbo was still offering resistance. it was thought that the number of troops would alarm these mountaineers; but they successfully resisted the first attack, and then withdrew to their mountain fastnesses where the troops could not follow them. on the rd of march, , a man arrived from khartum with a small note from consul power. it was written in english on one side, and in french on the other: "courage pour un peu. gordon est ici. courage tout ira bien," was what this good man wrote. he also asked for the names of the survivors of hicks's expedition, and the names of the european prisoners in kordofan. we answered all his questions. these few words of the consul gave us no little comfort and encouragement. the time of the mahdi's departure from el obeid was now drawing near. the crowd of people who had been collected was so enormous that the water in the wells was insufficient, and rose greatly in price, and anyone with slaves had to pay dearly for the luxury. disturbances frequently took place round the wells, and often people fell in. the wells were from to feet deep. the mahdi's further stay at el obeid was now useless, and he decided to advance on khartum. he issued a proclamation summoning all people to join him, and heralds were despatched in all directions with the mahdi's orders. at the same time it was announced that all people should follow in the mahdi's track via rahad, and arabs living to the north and east of el obeid were instructed to fall upon any travellers, put them in chains, and drag them to that town. provisions now became very cheap, such as coffee, wheat, dates, &c.; but, on the other hand, the rates of hire of camels and donkeys increased enormously. money was distributed to everyone for the journey. with regard to ourselves, however, as we were not permitted to leave, we resolved to try and escape; but this was most difficult, for we were avoided by everyone and no one dared associate with us. we managed, however, to procure a trustworthy man, who succeeded in getting us camels and guides; but god had disposed otherwise. khalifa abdullah, accompanied by a number of followers, suddenly appeared at our huts on the th of march, and father bonomi, brother joseph rognotto and myself were summoned before him. we found him seated on his sheepskin in the midst of a circle of emirs, and when he had beckoned to us to sit down, he then began to address to us a heap of questions, all leading up to the one important point--that we should accept his faith. his arguments were valueless, and had no effect upon us, so we were sent back to our huts. that evening, at about sunset, some thirty men, mounted on horses, broke into our humble abode, and said that they had orders to remove the sisters, assuring us with mock modesty that no harm should happen to them. we, however, well knew what would happen, and absolutely refused to be separated, saying that if they wished they could kill us, and cut off our heads; but that it would be a cruel shame for the mahdi to ill-treat these poor women after all his solemn promises and assurances. but of what avail could our protests be against brutal violence! they forced their way in, seized the sisters, and took them before the khalifa abdullah. he and khalifa sherif used every means of cruel barbarity to shake the faith of these poor sisters, and the latter, seizing a pair of scissors, which one of the sisters was carrying, cut the partition between her nostrils. the khalifa's wives also howled and insulted them in every base way, and then they were distributed amongst the emirs, and sent to rahad. we spent that night in our own huts, but early the following morning the dervishes came and took us to the khalifa, who made us over to various emirs. my master was to be abdullah wad en nur; but as at that time he happened to be at jebel dair, i was made over to his brother makin, who was then occupying mohammed said pasha's house. father bonomi, together with the little property we had left, was put into the beit el mal; but my diary, which i had now written for the third time, also herlth's diary, general hicks's bible and prayer book, and a sandwich case and small bundle, belonging to o'donovan, were all lost. we were now exposed to ill-treatment and insult from all sides. the mahdi's three sons, ranging from seven to ten years of age, used to come and insult me daily; but i cannot mention the details, which will for ever remain engraven on my memory. at length, on the th of april, , the mahdi set out, and we with him. the huge camp, swarming with thousands and thousands of people, became empty in a few days, and each one, as he left his hut, set fire to it, so that nothing was to be seen but clouds of smoke and flames darting upwards to the sky. just as we were leaving i was made over to another master, idris wad el hashmi. when i arrived at his house, i found everything ready for the journey; numbers of well-bound books were lying about on the floor. i picked one up, and found it was 'the soldier's pocket book,' by lord wolseley. i would like to have searched amongst these books for a diary, but they turned me out: idris had taken them out of some good leather trunks, which he had filled with his own effects. three days after the mahdi's departure my master and i quitted el obeid. the road to rahad was one uninterrupted stream of human beings--men, women, and children; camels carrying the household goods, on the top of which were fastened angaribs, on which women were seated; oxen and donkeys, all heavily laden; numbers of arabs were driving along their flocks with them; here one would see a camel fallen prone under its heavy load, there a child or a slave vainly seeking in the crowd for his lost master. of course i had to walk, and to act as a camel-driver as well, subject to continual insult and threatening. i moved along as best i could; the arabs applauded my master's good sense in making me his camel-driver, and urged that i should carry a load as well. we had to halt frequently, as the camels were so heavily laden. the burning sun and fatigue were terribly oppressive, and it is always a wonder to me how i escaped sunstroke. as to food, i had a share of my master's horses' meal. in the evening i was obliged to clean the dokhn, which was given to the horse, and the pangs of hunger made me covet even this, while i was obliged to ask my master's slave to occasionally give me a gulp of water; indeed, this slave pitied my wretched state. it took us three days to reach rahad, though, under ordinary circumstances, the journey could easily be performed in one and a half days. the burning sand had blistered my feet, and caused my legs to swell. one day i saw the unfortunate king adam, of tagalla, riding by; he was mounted on a mule, and his feet heavily chained. they thought that the sight of his native mountains might make him wish to desert. soon after his arrival at rahad the poor king died, heart-broken, and to him death must have come as a happy deliverance; while to us, who also longed for it, death would never come. rahad is situated in a depression, which in winter becomes a swamp; the water remains standing for some time, and there are numerous wells, which are sufficient for a large number of men and animals. during the dry season, rahad is a centre in which large numbers of arab tribes collect, and about four hours to the south rises the great dobab mountain (called by the arabs dair, because of its semicircular shape). dobab is perhaps the best naturally-fortified hill of the entire nuba group. it is accessible from one side only, and is easily defensible; there are quantities of water, which would enable the inhabitants to stand a prolonged siege. the circumference of the base of the mountain is about eighteen miles, and the inhabitants live on the top. already the dervishes had constructed their rude barracks under the shady trees of rahad, and soon an enormous camp sprang up. shortly after my arrival, i was again obliged to change masters; the one with whom i had recently been was not really bad, but my new master, abdel halim wad id, was a very great and fanatical emir. before, however, i proceed to describe the events which occurred at rahad, i must give a brief outline of what had happened to the sisters since they were so cruelly wrenched away from us. they had set out from rahad with the various emirs amongst whom they had been distributed; on the journey they suffered greatly; they were obliged to walk the whole distance barefooted, over thorns and burning sand; they underwent the agonies of hunger and thirst, and some of them had to carry loads; one of them, for a whole day, had not a drop of water to drink. these brutal savages were continually beating, insulting, and abusing them, and when, tired and weary, they sat down for a moment, they were driven forward under the lash of the cruel whip. on their arrival at rahad they scarcely looked like human beings, with their faces all scorched and peeled by the burning sun; and here new tortures awaited them. one of them was suspended from a tree, and beaten on the soles of the feet until they became swollen and black, and soon afterwards the nails dropped off. in spite of all this suffering, and notwithstanding the continual threats of these barbarians that they would be violated, these sisters clung firmly to their faith and belief. one night, one of the sisters succeeded in escaping to the mahdi's hut, and, forcing her way into his presence, appealed vehemently to him against the cruel treatment which she and her companions were suffering at the hands of his tyrannical emirs, and that their only fault was that they resolved to adhere to their own faith. under other circumstances the mahdi would never have forgiven this bitter reproach, but when he saw this poor sister wounded and bleeding, he pretended that he knew nothing of the matter, and at once ordered all the sisters to be brought to his enclosure, where they were, to some extent, safe from ill-treatment; yet they were in constant terror of being dishonoured, and therefore decided to seek the protection of some of the greeks who were in favour with the mahdi, and who, at the sisters' request, sought his permission to take charge of them and care for them. the mahdi, who really pitied them from his heart, sanctioned the proposal of the greeks, to whom the sisters were duly handed over; but it was not, of course, admitted that pity for them had induced this decision. it is a well-known fact that in the kuran the prophet mohammed enjoins respect and toleration of the ministers of christianity, whom he calls "rahban," or pious persons consecrated to god's service; and, moreover, he tells his followers that it is their duty to do so. in support of this i may here quote a translation of the celebrated passage which occurs in the manuscripts kept in the greek convent on mount sinai. it is as follows:-- "in the name of the merciful god, mohammed ibn abdullah issues this proclamation to all. he announces that he is the trusted one of god, by whom he has been placed over his creatures. no one, therefore, can shelter himself under the plea of ignorance. "i have written this proclamation in the form of an order to my nation, and to all christians in the east and west, far and near, young and old, known and unknown. he who fails to follow the instructions laid down in this order is conducting himself contrary to god's will, and renders himself liable to a curse, whoever he may be, whether sultan or any other moslem. "if a priest or a monk retire to a mountain, grotto, cave, plain, desert, city, village, or church, i myself am prepared to follow them with my army and my subjects, to protect them against any enemies they may meet, for these priests are my rayas (subjects), and i myself will prevent any harm coming to them. taxes shall not be taken from them, except those which they may give of their own free will and accord, not being compelled to do so by any one. it is not permissible to remove a bishop from his bishopric, a priest from his church, or a monk from his retreat. no objects shall be removed from their churches and used in the construction of mosques, nor, indeed, for the construction of the houses of mussulmans. whoso doth not act in accordance with this, acteth contrary to the law of god and his prophet. it is forbidden to burden bishops or other holy men with taxes. i shall uphold these their privileges everywhere, on land or sea, in the east or west, north or south. they shall enjoy my favour and protection against anything harmful, disagreeable, or unpleasant to them. "those who cultivate on mountains or distant places shall not be burdened with the tithe or tenth-tax, even if they give it of their own free will and accord, provided that what they cultivate is for their own maintenance. if there is a scarcity of corn, they shall be supported each with one quart of corn for each house. it shall never be necessary for them to go to war or to pay tribute. those in possession of unmovable goods shall not pay more than twelve drams of silver annually. no one shall be burdened. no discussions will take place with those who follow the teaching of the gospels, they should rather be in some degree sympathized with so as to put aside all enmity and to cause the wings of mercy to spread out. "should a christian woman go amongst moslems, they shall treat her well and permit her to go through her prayers in church, and allow nothing to come between her and her religion. whoso acteth contrary to these orders acteth in rebellion to god and his prophet. "christians should be supported in the maintenance of their churches and houses; their religion should help them to do so. it is not their duty to carry arms, the moslems shall do that for them, and moslems should ever hold firmly this order until the world's end. "the witnesses who confirm the truth of this proclamation, which is hereby issued by mohammed ibn abdallah, the messenger of god to all christians, which proclamation is to seal their privileges, are, ali ibn abu taleb, bakr ibn ali kohaifi, omar ibn el khattab, othman ibn affan, abu el darda, abu horeireh, abdullah abu masaud, abbas ibn abdel muttaleb, fodeil ibn abbas, zoheir ibn awan, talaat ibn obeidallah, saad ibn maaz, saad ibn obadi, tabet ibn kais, abu khayetma, hashim ibn omaya, hareth ibn tabet, abdallah ibn amr bin el aas, amr ibn yasin, moazzam ibn koreishi, abdel azim ibn hassan. "this proclamation is written by the hand of ali taleb on the rd moharrem of the second year of the hejira corresponding with the st of august, of the christian era. it is signed by the prophet himself. "blessed be he who followeth the contents thereof, and cursed be he who acteth contrary to them." no doubt the precepts enjoined in the above proclamation weighed with the mahdi in his decision to hand over the sisters to the greeks, and thus it was that the danger was for the time tided over. later on, when khartum fell and hundreds of the young women who had been in the harems of the principal people of the town fell into the hands of the emirs, the persecution of the sisters was entirely stopped, and in retirement they at length secured some rest and quietude, gaining their daily bread by sewing and other handiwork. after this digression, let us return to rahad, where numbers of straw huts were now erected. a market was opened and provisions were cheap. various arab tribes--the dar homr, bederieh, ghodiat, baggara howazma, miserieh, and dar nauli--streamed hither with their flocks and herds, and soon the camp extended greatly. sherif mahmud, whom the mahdi had left behind in el obeid, was instructed to send all the people on from there. the mahdi set up his abode between two large trees, and the khalifas lived around him. the combined movements of this enormous crowd were most impressive. at prayer-time thousands upon thousands of dervishes ranged themselves in well-ordered lines behind the mahdi, and the shout of "allahu akbar" resounded through the air. often the singers of the mahdi's praises would go on till long after midnight, and thus did he continue to inspire his gigantic audience. [illustration: father ohrwalder's interview with the mahdi at rahad, concerning religion.] i was also twice summoned by the mahdi; on one occasion two of his body-guard rushed up to me quite out of breath, just to show how expeditiously they carried out the mahdi's orders, and brandishing their swords over my head shouted, "get up, the mahdi wishes to speak to you." as a matter of fact i had no desire to see him, but i had to get up, and this i did as slowly as i possibly could, and then i was pushed forward in the direction i had to go. at length i reached the two large trees, and sitting down beside them i leaned against the roots. the mahdi had not arrived. close to me was a hut roughly built of dokhn reeds, which i was told was the fort, around which a small thorn zariba had been constructed to keep off the crowding dervishes who were collected in their thousands, most of them seated in long lines on the sand and repeating their "subhan allah." the mahdi's huts and tents were close by. it was then the time for noonday prayers, and as the mahdi approached there was a short buzz and hum followed by a deep silence. when the mahdi came to the place where the sheepskin was stretched out on the ground, a slave came up and took off his sandals, after which he conducted prayers. these over, he turned round and greeted me. then some of his favourites came forward and presented petitions to him, some of which he approved at once by writing a few words on the back of the paper, while the remainder were put aside for consideration. since the occasion on which the mahdi had interviewed klootz, i had not seen him. i now saw a considerable change in him; he had grown much stouter, but he still wore the same clothes of rough damur, consisting of drawers, jibbeh, girth, and turban. his conversation soon turned on religion, and he asked me if we christians used the "hamdu" (a form used by the moslems as they bow in prayer) in our prayers. i replied that not only had we one but several, and at his request i repeated the lord's prayer in arabic. this created much surprise amongst the ignorant listeners, who believe that christians do not know how to pray, and i was thought quite "fasich" (_i.e._ educated). after a long conversation on the psalms of david, the mahdi said, "i know that you christians are very good people, and that you feed the hungry." he then told me about "deeds of mercy," and added that all such acts were useless, as anyone who did not believe in the mahdi was but "wood for the fire." our conversation was interrupted by the aser or afternoon prayers, after which the mahdi again held a reception. amongst others a small dwarf appeared, and the mahdi spoke to him about his tribe and asked if he were married. the dwarf replied that he had come to ask for a wife, and explained that the possession of one was the desire of his heart, whereupon the mahdi gave orders that he should at once be provided with one. he then rose up to leave, and i was permitted to go home. on the following day i was again summoned before him, and he explained that through the noonday prayers he knew he should win over the whole world. he said that god had given him a period of forty years (as a matter of fact he only lived four years, but a cypher more or less is of no consequence) during which he should make all people believe on him and acknowledge that he was the mahdi. he added that after the subjugation of the sudan he would take egypt, which would only offer a weak resistance, and that afterwards he would attack mecca, where the most bloody battle which the world had ever seen would take place; from mecca he should proceed to jerusalem, where jesus christ should descend from heaven. "of course," i said, "christ will possess all the characteristics which the gospel attributes to him;" but the mahdi continued, "would christ not fight with anti-christ? if i do not believe in him he will kill me." the mahdi then asked me if i ever had dreams, and i replied that even if i did have dreams i did not believe in them. then the mahdi turned round to those who were near and said, "assuredly the turks do not believe in dreams, or they would have admitted that i am the mahdi." it is said that mahmud bey ahmedani, mudir of khartum, who had accompanied hicks and had fallen near shekan, had seen the mahdi's shadow on the wall surrounded with a halo of light, but in his obstinacy he still refused to acknowledge him. just then a sherif of syria came in, and, making obeisance to the mahdi, said, "sire, you are my relation!" (by this he meant that as he belonged to the prophet's tribe, and as the mahdi had sprung from the prophet, that therefore they were connected.) the mahdi was much gratified by this flattery, and ordered wad suleiman to give him fifty dollars and a concubine. the conversation was then turned on gordon. the mahdi remarked he was full of pity for him, for he said that he was convinced it was the ulema's arguments which had made gordon believe that he was not the true mahdi. he then asked me what was the object of the wires with which gordon had surrounded khartum. i replied that i knew nothing of the art of war, but others said that this was telegraph wire, which gordon had put down so that in case of attack the horses would stumble over it. the mahdi smiled, and remarked that god was more mighty than all the tricks and artifices of gordon. it was now evening, and the mahdi got up to go, so i went home, and when i returned to sheikh idris, several came up and congratulated me for having had the good fortune to talk with the mahdi. for my own part i would gladly have dispensed with this good fortune. when i was summoned the next day i sent word that i was very ill, and by this means secured some rest. whilst at rahad, the mahdi's eyes were continually directed on jebel dair, and when abu anga and the emirs who were sent to subjugate these districts, returned, defeated in their attempts to scale the mountain, the mahdi then despatched every man fit for war to reinforce him. he excused himself for this unusual measure by saying that all persons should be exercised in war, and that, moreover, this was penance to those who had only recently joined him, to purify them from the sin of not having joined him earlier. as a matter of fact, these arabs were a source of great trouble and annoyance to the mahdi, for they did nothing but wander about the market-place begging, and it was no small difficulty to keep such vast crowds in order. the war against the nubas was waged in the most cruel manner; the proud dervishes were incensed at the stubborn resistance of these poor black slaves, as they used to call the nubas. on one occasion, when the dervishes, led by abu anga and followed by the gellabas, attempted to ascend the mountain, the nubas allowed them to advance some way and then pounced down upon the gellabas in the narrowest pass; these men were badly armed, and four hundred of them were killed. abu anga seeing this beat a rapid retreat, and on coming into the pass was implored by the wretched wounded gellabas to carry them away, but abu anga's men jeeringly replied that they must die "in god's cause," and left them to the tender mercies of the nuba lances. i may here remark that there was great ill-feeling between the blacks and the dervishes, for the black soldiers complained that they were always placed in the forefront of the battle. in another attack the dervishes succeeded in reaching the nuba village, burning the huts, killing a large number of them and carrying off their wives and children as captives to rahad, where they were sold as slaves. on this occasion nur angar cut off the heads of three nubas who had already submitted, while abu anga's men seized the little children by the feet and dashed their brains to pieces on the rocks. at rahad a special zariba was built for the nuba captives, who were driven like cattle into a pen to be sold. these poor creatures, without covering from the sun or rain, suffered terribly from hunger and thirst; each evening they were given a handful of dhurra and some water, but that was quite insufficient, and in a few days mothers had to see their children slowly starving to death, while the little suckling babes gathered round their mothers in the vain search for food. each morning the guards looked in to inquire if there were any dead or dying, and then ordered the wretched survivors, who had scarcely the strength to get up, to drag out their dead and dying friends and relations. it would take a long time to tell of all the horrible atrocities and cruelties which these poor nubas suffered at the hands of the dervishes--and why? because they tried to retain their freedom and defend their fatherland, refusing to follow that base liar who called himself the mahdi, to the siege of khartum. amongst the captives in the zariba was a man and his wife and two small children. the sight of his starving children was breaking the father's heart; the view of his native mountain so affected him that he became desperate, and knowing that he would probably be separated from his wife and children and sold the next day, he took a terrible resolution: in the middle of the night he embraced his wife, kissed his little children, and then plunged his knife into each of them, preferring rather that they should die than become slaves; he then broke out of the zariba and fled, the guards fired and missed him; thus the wretched man succeeded in reaching his beloved hills. chapter vii. father ohrwalder's views of gordon's mission. ohrwalder describes his treatment at the hands of various masters--the nubas surrender and afterwards desert--news from khartum--the capture of the english mail--its arrival at the mahdi's camp--the mahdi decides to advance on khartum--brief review of events in khartum and berber--ohrwalder's views on gordon's mission--the mahdi sets out for khartum--mohammed ali pasha's defeat and death--colonel stewart, mr. power, and others leave khartum in ss. "abbas"--description of their wreck and treacherous murder. the war with jebel dair dragged on a long time; the nubas fought with desperate courage. i used to hear of their bravery from the dervishes who frequented my master's house. after about a month my master was sent to birket, where he was ordered to collect the arabs and send them on to rahad. at this place he practised unprecedented cruelty. a man found drinking marissa he ordered to be flogged with eighty lashes, until the poor victim's bowels fell out. during his absence i was sent back to my old master, sheikh idris, where i continued to lead a wretched existence, eating out of the horses' nose-bag and quenching my thirst from the share of water which was allotted to the animals. the ground was my bed, the sky my roof. every morning when i got up i had to shake off the scorpions from my clothes, into which they had crept during the night. it is curious that the sting of these animals, which at other times was always most painful, caused me little trouble or irritation. the filth in the camp, owing to the entire absence of all sanitary rules, caused the flies to increase prodigiously; eating during the daytime was impossible, for one would have eaten as many flies as food. i still suffered threats and insults here as in other places, and many a time did i intentionally put my head in danger in the hope that death would release me from these savages. sheikh idris was annoyed at my ill-treatment, but what could one man do with these hordes of fanatics? one day after a review i was asked by idris to have breakfast with him in his hut; after breakfast he began to talk confidentially with me, and said that the prophet mohammed had expressly forbidden the ill-treatment of priests and hermits. he then said that egypt had lost the sudan, and that gordon would not be able to withstand the mahdi; most of the fikis and sheikhs had already submitted to the mahdi, and the sudan was in their hands. when i pointed out the great difficulties he would have in traversing the deserts to wadi halfa, he remarked that the mahdi's undertaking was not likely to be hindered by the death of a few thousand men? i then argued that it was most unlikely that the white moslems would ever accept a black mahdi; and that, moreover, according to the traditions, the mahdi would appear in mecca. he replied, "god is the lord of all," by which he meant to say that god can make a black mahdi. we had a long conversation about the mahdi, and it seemed to me that sheikh idris did not believe in him, but had merely joined him in the hope of gain and rewards. idris also added, "by what right should we be ruled by the turks? can we not govern ourselves?" if there had been many more sensible and enlightened men like sheikh idris, it is probable that mahdiism would have taken a very different form; but idris was an exception--most of the principal emirs were uneducated and ignorant savages. it was god's will that this idris should fall later on in the battle of argin in , fighting against wodehouse pasha. a few days after this conversation, my original master, abdullah wad en nur, arrived from jebel dair to obtain the mahdi's instructions as to the future conduct of the war. the mahdi presented him with a very good horse. khalifa abdullah asked him what he intended to do with me, and advised him that when he again went to the nuba country he should take me with him and put me in the front so that the nubas might kill me. sheikh idris told me this, and khalil hassanein, roversi's old clerk, who had obtained a good place in the beit el mal, brought me three dollars for the journey. i was delighted with the idea of a change, for i could not have been worse off than i was at rahad. at first i was handed over to a fiki, who bothered me with his useless and nonsensical talk; his name was mahmud, and he came from tuti island, near khartum; he joined the mahdi after hicks's defeat, and brought a donkey and a few dollars with him. the first thing he did was to sell his donkey and purchase a concubine, but in two days the latter purchase ran away, so he lost both his donkey and his money. he then joined the khalifa abdullah, who recommended him to idris as a good man to instruct me in the right way; but instead of convincing me of the mahdi's divinity, i very soon convinced him of the reverse, and it was by no means difficult to do so; the fiki used frequently to go to the beit el mal to try and get a concubine, but no one took the smallest notice of him. on the other hand he used constantly to see the numerous concubines of idris, who was rich, while he was but a poor man. from this i made him understand that the chiefs of mahdieh sought only how they could best gain riches and honour at the expense of their poorer brethren. soon afterwards he fell sick at rahad, and there was no one to look after him or care for him; i knew that in his heart he had had quite enough of the mahdi, but he was ashamed to acknowledge it before me. one night, not hearing his voice in the miserable hut which had been given to him, i looked in and found him lying stretched out dead on the ground. i felt sorry for the poor creature who had died away from his own home. another reason which made me glad to go away to dair, was that i was ill and suffering much from my old complaint, which forced me to frequently retire outside the camp amidst the jeers of the arabs; but suddenly the ray of hope which had come to me with the thought of a change to the mountain, was as suddenly extinguished, for it transpired that idris had arranged with abdullah, without my knowledge, to leave me at rahad. the war against the nubas was continued, and from rahad i could see the columns of smoke ascending, showing where the villages had been burnt by these cruel dervishes. at length these poor but brave mountaineers, overwhelmed by superior numbers, became discouraged, and agreed to submit on condition that they should remain free, and be allowed to live in their mountains. the mahdi approved, for the dervishes were quite worn out with their long and bloody war. the brave inhabitants descended from their hills--men, women, and children--in astonishing numbers, and established themselves at the foot of the mountain, and near the dervish camp, while mek kumbo and the principal chiefs went to the mahdi to take the bea'a (oath of allegiance). there was now great rejoicing. the mahdi received them kindly, gave them presents, and handed back to them those who still remained in the beit el mal; but before they left his presence he ordered them and their wives and children to follow him to the white nile. this was quite contrary to the agreement made between them, but the mahdi cared little about honour and keeping his word, his main object was to attain his point by any fraud or deception he could practise. the nubas promised to do so, and went back to their camp; but on talking to their people, they agreed to escape during the night, preferring rather to starve in the caves and recesses of their own mountains, than to leave their native country. like one man, they rose and fled to the hills, and the fight was once more renewed. many of them fought with the most stubborn desperation; several were killed, but the dervish loss was also very heavy. the nubas retired into the inmost recesses of the hills, where the enemy could not possibly follow them. on one occasion the dervishes all but captured mek kumbo; his horse and lance fell into their hands, but he himself escaped. at length, thoroughly exhausted by this tedious and interminable war, they returned to rahad; but heavy rain had fallen, the khor was now a rushing torrent, and here hundreds of mahdiists were drowned--victims to their rash fanaticism--for they believed that the mahdi's power could save them from the wild impetuous stream. many of them crossed on angaribs (native beds), to each post of which an inflated skin was attached. towards the end of june, , slatin bey arrived at rahad. the khalifa abdullah ordered the big war-drums to be beaten, and the whole of the cavalry left the camp to meet him and escort him in. the mahdi received slatin very kindly, and he was attached to khalifa abdullah's followers. abdullah delighted in collecting foreigners around him. one day father bonomi and i were summoned by abdullah to meet slatin, and this gave me a chance of meeting father bonomi, whom i had not seen for months. it was about this time that marietta combotti, one of our black girls, came from khartum to rahad. after hicks's defeat we sent her to khartum to inform our people there about our condition and about the mahdi's power, and urged everyone to leave khartum as soon as possible. we gave her some letters which were sewn into the end of a mat. consul hansal had assisted combotti in every way, and had given her several things for us, such as clothes, money, and medicines. she had suffered greatly on the journey, had been put in chains, and all she had succeeded in saving was her money. she had been away seven months. amongst other things consul hansal sent us a photograph of our new and highly-honoured bishop, monsignor imbrien, of the tyrol. marietta also brought a letter from the consul to me describing the condition of khartum, and the defeat of baker pasha, about which we had heard nothing. the consul further added: "we hope that the english will energetically push forward into the sudan, or we shall be lost. our condition is desperate." this letter was dated early in january, . hansal also sent us the _tyroler volksblatt_ newspaper, published in posen, and in it i was surprised to read an account of my own death. the paper said i had been captured by the mahdiists, and had died of fatigue and ill-treatment. so my friends believed i was dead! and, indeed, i felt then that death could not be far distant. my complaint was worse than ever, and i was suffering from scurvy as well. we did indeed feel grateful to the unfortunate hansal who had done all he could to alleviate our distress; but god has disposed otherwise. how i wish poor hansal had taken our advice and gone home. the state of moral darkness in which we lived, the constant insults, being gazed upon by such multitudes, being at the mercy and sport of these savages, just as if one were a monkey or other curious animal, all had a dulling effect on one's spiritual nature, and i felt that i must be losing my mind; but yet in all these trials and afflictions god did not leave us. again a ray of hope shone through the obscurity. we had already heard something about english troops, but the information was very vague. one of the mahdi's messengers, who took the mahdi's answer back to gordon in khartum, told me that gordon had received him well, had given him some bakshish, not like the god-forsaken mohammed said pasha, who had executed the mahdi's messengers; but, prior to his departure, gordon had warned him in the following words:--"go, tell the mahdi that i have only to stamp my feet on the ground, and thousands of englishmen will at once spring up." i believed this story, for i did not think the messenger was clever enough to invent it; besides, i felt sure that gordon must have known quite well that he alone was utterly unable to extinguish the fire of this gigantic revolt. but at length all these reports were fully confirmed. it was friday. the khalifas were out on parade, when two camels, carrying an english mail, arrived. khalifa abdullah at once left the review, and sent for klootz to read the letters. klootz came at once to me and said that an entire english mail for gordon had been captured near omdurman. it was clear from several letters that english troops were advancing into the sudan from three directions; that is to say, from suakin to berber, from korosko to abu hamed, and from dongola, where there were , infantry and , cavalry. there was a telegram from cairo to assuan announcing general graham's advance; a touching little letter from a young girl to her father in khartum, whose name i forget. in this letter she told of the alarm she felt for her father's safety, and how she prayed daily that her father might not meet the same fate as general hicks. in another letter gordon was informed that £ , had been sent to him. all these letters had been sent from berber to general gordon by joseph cuzzi, who had written a letter to gordon to that effect in italian. one letter said that it was well known that the khalifa abdullah was the moving spirit of the revolt, and that the mahdi merely supplied the religious element; but klootz did not translate this in the mahdi's presence. when the latter got up to go, klootz translated this sentence to the khalifa abdullah, who was delighted with this flattering remark. cuzzi's italian letter was concealed by klootz, who afterwards brought it to me. in this letter cuzzi briefly informed general gordon that he was forwarding the letters; that he had sent a messenger to sawakin to come to an understanding with general graham, and that the rebels at abu hamed had seized a number of the government boats. he added that gordon should have no anxiety about berber, as long as hussein pasha khalifa was mudir. but in this matter he proved to have been completely deceived. the general import of all these letters convinced the mahdi that the english were in earnest. he therefore decided to take no action for a time, and to remove the camp to the foot of the mountain, where it was his intention to await their advance. but soon after came the news that berber had fallen, and that general graham had returned to sawakin, and this decided the mahdi to advance on khartum. the nubas now began to give some difficulty. no sooner had the dervishes abandoned their camp at the foot of the mountain, than the nubas rendered all roads in the vicinity of rahad, and for a considerable distance, unsafe. slaves going out to gather wood or straw were suddenly swooped down upon by these bold mountaineers, who killed or captured them. in this way they revenged the cruelties which they had suffered. the mahdi was quite unable to subdue these blacks, and his failure to do so was a great blow to his pride. i may here remark that at this period of the mahdieh religion, violation of moral laws was very severely punished. one of the mahdi's bodyguard caught _in flagrante_ in the practice of a species of immorality by no means uncommon in eastern countries, both culprits were led out in chains and beheaded in the presence of the assembled multitudes. before following the mahdi on his march to khartum, it is advisable here to take a brief review of the events which had occurred in khartum, berber, and the gezireh. the catastrophe which had overtaken general hicks's force filled the inhabitants of khartum with indescribable dismay. several of them returned to egypt, and the members of the austrian mission, with their blacks, quitted khartum on the th of december, . fortunate were those who seized this chance of escape before the roads became blocked! general gordon's arrival in khartum gave fresh life and hope to the inhabitants. great were the rejoicings, and a magnificent reception was prepared for the long-expected deliverer. this reception took place on the th of february, , and must have greatly encouraged general gordon in his undertaking; but it was not gordon's individual presence which so greatly inspired the people. what could gordon do alone, against the now universally worshipped mahdi? the nature of the revolt was not political; the sudanese had no intention of establishing an empire under the mahdi's rule, and, even had this been the case, it is very improbable that gordon's mediation would have been of any avail. [illustration: the gold medal struck by gordon to commemorate the siege of khartum.] the movement was a religious movement, and was not limited to the sudan alone; the mahdi's intention was to subdue the world. he was a prophet, and in his own and the estimation of his followers he was a greater man than the prophet mohammed. the world was to come to an end in his time. had gordon only known beforehand how boundless was the wild fanaticism, and how completely the mahdi's followers were intoxicated by it, he would never have accepted the mission. as it appeared to us in kordofan, and to the mahdi himself, gordon's undertaking was very strange; it was just as if a man were attempting to put out an enormous fire with a drop of water. gordon's name alone could not suppress the revolt, and it was not on account of his name that the khartum people rejoiced at his arrival; it was because they looked on gordon as an english representative, and that he was only the precursor of an english expedition sent to take possession of the sudan for england. that is what made the people glad, and caused them to put aside all idea of departure. had they not been certain that an english expedition was coming, not a soul would have remained in khartum, and i have no hesitation in saying that had the egyptian government not sent gordon, then undoubtedly the evacuation originally ordered could have been carried out without difficulty. those who escaped massacre in khartum have often told me that they were perfectly ready to leave, and it was only gordon's arrival that kept them back; but gordon's arrival without troops had rather disappointed them. had he been accompanied by five hundred british bayonets, his reputation in the sudan might have been maintained, and probably the mahdi would never have left kordofan. gordon himself committed a mistake, by which he gave a death-blow to himself and his mission. on his way to khartum he stopped at berber and interviewed the mudir hussein pasha khalifa; he imprudently told him that he had come up to remove the egyptian garrisons, as egypt had abandoned the sudan. at metemmeh also--a strong place between berber and khartum, and the headquarters of the powerful jaalin tribe--he committed a similar imprudence, by giving the same information to haj ali wad saad, the emir of metemmeh. this haj ali was a man held in great respect, on account of his just dealings, and afterwards, when he died in omdurman, there was public mourning for him. the fact, indeed, that the khalifa had pardoned him after "marissa" had been found in his house, sufficiently indicates how greatly he was respected. both haj ali and hussein pasha khalifa informed all their principal people about the decision of the government, and it was this announcement that made these faithful sheikhs, who were then trembling in the balance, throw in their lot with the mahdi. why should they remain loyal to a government which had decided to give up their land? had they remained faithful, what had they to expect when the mahdi prevailed? it was this announcement of gordon's which was the main cause of the fall of berber, which place was essential for gordon's plan of operations. haj ali, shortly before his death, and when in great suffering, reviewed the misery which the mahdi had brought upon the sudan, and the part he himself had taken in it, and he then said that it was nothing but the knowledge of the intention of the government to abandon the sudan which made him join the mahdi. "how," he said, "could i have remained loyal to a government which i knew intended to leave me in the lurch afterwards? i would only have been paving the way for the mahdi's vengeance." at the time haj ali said this he was in doubt about the divine nature of the mahdi, and spoke openly to people on these matters. "but," he added, "at that time every one thought only of himself. gordon thought only how he could save himself and the egyptians, and we thought how we could save ourselves and avert the mahdi's vengeance by taking his part; so we went to berber, joined with the ababdeh, besieged and took the town, and then cut gordon's communications with egypt." gordon was soon destined to see with his own eyes what a fatal mistake he had made, but only when it was too late. no notice was taken of gordon's peaceful proclamations; the revolt was now widespread, and masses of fanatical dervishes were gradually encircling khartum. mohammed wad el besir, the sheikh el obeid--a man held in great respect in the gezireh--his sons, and the fiki medawi advanced on the town from the south. on the th of march, , gordon's troops were heavily defeated, and their leaders were executed by gordon for treachery. another blow fell on gordon by the surrender, at fedasi, of saleh wad el mek, with , men, to the emir abu girgeh. still gordon did not despair of success, and it was his individuality which inspired the inhabitants of khartum with hope. saleh wad el mek's surrender greatly encouraged the dervishes. rebels were also gathering to the north of khartum. the jaalin of metemmeh and the ababdeh, as i previously stated, prepared to attack berber. hussein pasha khalifa, sheikh of the ababdeh, who had been mudir there since the th of december, , remained faithful to the government, but his subordinates paid no attention to him; and it was largely due to the influence of these officials that numbers of local sheikhs joined the mahdi. the ababdeh, barabra, and jaalin, under the supreme command of mohammed el kheir, now besieged berber. eight days later the town was taken by storm, and most of the garrison and a number of inhabitants were massacred. joseph cuzzi had attempted to escape, but he was caught and sent to khartum to endeavour to induce gordon to surrender. he was subsequently sent on to the mahdi at rahad. gordon's communications with the north were now cut. after saleh pasha's surrender, the number of besieging dervishes increased greatly, and abu girgeh growing bolder, seized the village of buri, where he built a fort and began to shell the town. gordon therefore, on the nd of may, sent out a considerable force, which attacked abu girgeh, drove him out of his position, and all but succeeded in capturing him. thus did gordon, although hemmed in on all sides, maintain a bold front, and employed every art of war to keep the dervishes from investing the town more closely. to return now to the mahdi at rahad. he was at this time in full preparation for departure to the siege of khartum, and, as usual, he despatched abu anga, wad nejumi, wad en nur, and wad gubara, with all his best troops in advance. as i have previously related, cuzzi, who arrived at rahad at the end of june, had been previously sent by the dervishes to khartum to try and induce gordon to surrender, and gordon had given strict orders that he should not be permitted within the walls. when, therefore, he arrived at rahad, the mahdi received him very well, loaded him with presents, and then sent him back with george clementino to khartum as bearer of letters to gordon. he arrived at the dervish camp at the same time as nejumi. clementino was permitted to converse with the greek consul, leontides, but cuzzi returned to berber. the mahdi passed the month of ramadan in rahad, and it was not until the th of august that he set out for khartum. the whole population, like a swarm of bees, accompanied him on the same road which hicks had taken. the people joyfully undertook this long journey through pathless districts, and at a time when the rainfall was heaviest. camels, too, were expensive and difficult to procure; but, in spite of all these obstacles, fanaticism was more pronounced than ever. there were in all upwards of , people, and at shirkeleh the cavalry numbered , . to defeat such an enormous force as this, a european expedition was necessary, not the weak force at gordon's disposal. throughout the entire route fresh cavalry joined, whilst the herds of cattle which the arabs drove along served as food, and meat was then cheap enough. numbers of animals died during the march, and the road was plainly marked by an unbroken line of dead camels, donkeys, horses, and oxen. the route lay from shirkeleh to shatt, and thence to duem. here a halt was called for a few days to collect stragglers. all notion of working in the fields was abandoned, and agricultural pursuits were entirely dispensed with. thus it happened that on the mahdi's arrival at omdurman the dervishes were in great want of grain. the mahdi arrived at omdurman on the rd of october, , but the whole of the stragglers did not reach it till early in november. everything had been prepared. gordon was surrounded by numerous enemies, still he did not despair. in august both niles had risen considerably; the blue nile had arrived almost at its full height, while the white nile had overflowed its low bank, and now swept past fort mukran and the houses in khartum. so high was it, that a dam had to be constructed to keep the water within bounds. at high nile the white river is very broad; and at a later date, when i crossed over from omdurman to the roughly built fort which has long since been destroyed, i was sea-sick. but as the river fell it left the ditch full of mud, and this proved a source of great danger. when the river was high, gordon made several successful counter-attacks. mohammed ali pasha went up the blue nile to a place near gereif, and on the th of august fell upon the arabs, utterly defeating them. this brave leader also attacked the old sheikh el obeid at halfaya, and captured a quantity of dhurra and cattle. khartum breathed once more, and it seemed as if all would be well; the bands played in the evening, and the town was full of joy, which, alas, was soon to be turned to sadness. mohammed ali pasha, emboldened by his late successes, advanced again on the sheikh el obeid, whom he defeated near el eilafun; but, advancing into the desert to renew the attack on the th of september, he and upwards of of his troops fell into an ambush and were slaughtered. this proved a very severe blow to gordon, and khartum being now closely invested, he decided to send a steamer north to communicate with the government, and give them full information of the state of affairs. as the nile was now high, it was thought the small steamer _abbas_ would be able to make her way safely to dongola. the _abbas_ left khartum on the th of september, and was accompanied by two other steamers towing boats, in one of which were a number of greek, and in the other syrian merchants. these steamers ran the gauntlet of shot and shell till past berber. when a short way beyond that town, the steamers _mansureh_ and _safia_ turned back, and reached khartum only with the greatest difficulty, being fired upon throughout almost the entire distance. the _abbas_ continued her journey north, and drew up for the night at a small island. the two boats which had been cast off when the other steamers left, now passed the _abbas_, but were driven on to some rocks by the wind, and here they had to stop for the night to repair. the next morning the _abbas_ passed them, and colonel stewart urged them to push forward. the greek boat started, but it was some time before the syrians could set sail; and again they were driven on to the rocks, where they remained firmly fixed. in the meantime the dervishes at berber, who had gained possession of the steamer _el fasher_ when the town fell into their hands, at once sent her off in pursuit, together with two large sailing boats. the _fasher_ soon came up with the wrecked syrian boat, which now made a sign of truce, was boarded and taken possession of. the dervishes, having obtained all information, left one of their boats in charge of their capture, and then pursued the greek boat, with which they soon came up, and, having secured her, the _fasher_ continued her pursuit of the _abbas_. she proceeded almost as far as abu hamed, but here the captain refused to take her any further, as he feared running her on to a rock. so she returned to berber with her captured boats, in which there were in all twelve greeks and fifteen syrians. of the latter, eight were males, five females, and two children. the steamer _abbas_, after passing abu hamed, entered the wadi gamr cataracts, which are very rocky and dangerous, and here she struck on a rock near the village of hebbeh, the inhabitants of which belong to the monasir tribe. colonel stewart had the baggage disembarked on an island, on which the travellers now took up their abode until the expected greek and syrian boats should arrive; but, after waiting two days, stewart sent his interpreter, hassan husni, with mohammed hilmi gorab and the captain, ashore, with instructions to see the sheikhs, and, by the offer of presents and the promise of a good reward from the government, to induce them to supply camels to enable the shipwrecked party to continue their journey to dongola. these messengers were well received by sheikh suleiman wad naaman, and neither he nor his people were wearing jibbehs; they asserted that they were thoroughly loyal to the government, and added that it was only the arrival of sheikh heddai that had made them pretend to be against the government. suleiman said that he would assist the shipwrecked passengers with the greatest pleasure, and so well did he conceal his wicked treachery that the messengers returned to stewart greatly elated with their success. but in the meantime suleiman had prepared a treacherous trap, into which the over-confident passengers blindly fell. he sent secret orders to all the people round about to prepare for a fight, and then drove some camels along the river bank, to show that he was preparing for the journey. colonel stewart ordered all the spare ammunition to be thrown into the river, and then landed with the other passengers. suleiman invited him and the consuls, power and herbin, to go into his house, so as to make final arrangements with the camel-owners, and at the same time he begged them to remove their arms, as the arabs might get alarmed and make difficulties about hiring their camels. an artillery captain who was with stewart begged him not to let go his arms, as there might be treachery; but stewart laughed at his fears, and he, with the two consuls and the interpreter, entered the house, while the others remained outside; they still retained their revolvers. suleiman begged them to be seated, and proceeded to present to them a number of arabs, who, he asserted, were the camel-owners. the traitor had dates brought to them, and, so as not to offend him, they took some. then suleiman stood up and lifted his leather water-bottle, which was the prearranged signal for the arabs to rush out of their hiding-places and attack the guests. in a second the house was full of armed men, who called upon them to throw down their revolvers and submit; but before they had even time to do this, the arabs rushed upon them with their swords. consul herbin, who was standing near the door, was the first to fall; his head was chopped off with an axe. consul power and colonel stewart were soon cut to pieces. the interpreter, hassan, begged to be spared, crying out, "i am a moslem! i am a moslem, and my name is hassan!" so he was not killed, but received a wound in the shoulder. the murderers then rushed off to the river bank to attack the others, who were soon killed, except two artillerymen, who jumped into the river, and a few servants. it was said that the interpreter, hassan, had arranged the betrayal, and i was afterwards told that when he got into difficulties later, he sent a petition to mohammed el kheir, in which he said that he was entitled to reward for having secured colonel stewart's death. he is still living in omdurman. suleiman sent all the correspondence he captured to the mahdi, who thus became thoroughly aware of gordon's desperate condition. on the nd of october he wrote to gordon, informing him of the event, and summoned him to submit, as he had no hope of receiving any relief. this catastrophe was another terrible blow to gordon. he had counted on stewart being able to inform the government of the straits to which khartum was reduced, and the necessity of sending immediate help. the state of khartum now became very serious. nejumi and the other forces were clustering round kalakala; there was daily fighting, and bullets fell in the streets of khartum. there were upwards of , dervishes, extending from kalakala to buri. wad gubara and wad sheikh el obeid had their camp at khojali, on the right bank of the nile, to the north. thus was khartum surrounded by hordes of fanatical arabs, who attacked the starved and forsaken town from morning till night. chapter viii. the siege and fall of khartum. the surrender of omdurman fort--gordon's dispositions for defence--his great personal influence--the night before the assault--the attack and entry of the dervishes--gordon's death--the adventures of domenico polinari--the massacre in khartum--how most of the europeans died--ruthless cruelty and bloodshed--the fate of the wives and daughters of khartum--ohrwalder's views on the situation in khartum and the chances of relief by the british expeditionary force--his description of the town three months after the fall. the mahdi camped on the south side of omdurman fort, and at once began to direct the siege, the command of his troops was vested in abu anga; but he did not dare to send his black troops, who had previously fought in the egyptian service under gordon, against khartum, fearing that, owing to the influence which gordon had formerly exercised over them, they might desert to him. omdurman fort, which was then under the command of faragallah pasha, was soon reduced to great straits, and the mahdiists threw up trenches, in which they were comparatively safe from the continuous fire. eventually they succeeded in entrenching themselves between the fort and the river, thus cutting the communications, which gordon was unable to restore. consequently, the garrison soon began to starve; but they still fought courageously, and inflicted great loss on the dervishes. amongst the latter was a certain emir, named mohammed wad el areik, who, while in the act of laying a gun at omdurman, was struck in the back of the neck by a bullet. he was visited by the khalifa abdullah, who promised that he should recover; but, in spite of this promise, he died the following day. faragallah, having now no food left, was obliged to surrender, and thus the mahdi was enabled to press the siege of khartum more closely than ever. the town itself was full of traitors; almost all the important townsmen had written to the mahdi from time to time, to the effect that they wished to submit to him, and that they believed in him. gordon was, so to speak, alone in the midst of enemies, but the expected arrival of the english kept the inhabitants from surrendering. every day gordon invented some means of making the people believe that their deliverers were near; he frequently had the walls placarded with announcements that they were very near khartum, but all his promises came to nothing. gordon was almost superhuman in his efforts to keep up hope. every day, and many and many a time during the day, did he look towards the north from the roof of the palace for the relief which never arrived. he overcame the want of money by issuing paper bonds; but soon the people refused to accept them, and to enforce his order he sent fourteen merchants to the east bank, just in front of the enemy's guns; this he did to frighten them, and when they agreed to accept the bonds he had them brought back to the town. to further strengthen the belief of the people in the speedy arrival of the english, he hired all the best houses along the river bank, and had them prepared for their occupation. he was sure they would come--but when? the time was pressing. how eagerly he searched the distant horizon for the english flag he longed to see, but every day he was doomed to disappointment. the troops were famine-stricken, and began to lose heart, whilst the enemy without the walls daily grew bolder in anticipation of the plunder they hoped so soon would be theirs. from buri to kalakala the dervishes extended in one unbroken mass, whilst their hundreds of noggaras never ceased beating in gordon's ears night and day. the town was closely hemmed in on three sides. wad gubara on the north was near enough to shell his palace; and under the hole where the first shot struck the wall gordon inscribed the date as a remembrance. none of us can realize how heavily his terrible responsibilities weighed upon him. despair had seized upon the town. the unreliable nature of the sudanese was a constant source of anxiety to him, and enhanced the critical situation. those in charge of the biscuits and dhurra stole quantities of it on every possible occasion, and tried to deceive gordon by assuring him that there were millions of okes in store, when in reality there was almost nothing. in their endeavours to enrich themselves they forgot that they were only preparing the way for their ultimate destruction. the officer in charge of the dhurra store was arrested and brought before a court of inquiry; but gordon had to point out to those who were making the investigation that they should not inquire too critically into the matter. he knew all that had taken place, but he was powerless to stop it. he won the people's hearts by his generosity; and even to this day all who knew him never cease speaking of his kindness. his endeavours to recompense the greeks for their honesty are affecting in the extreme. he elaborated numerous plans for their escape. his first intention was to place a steamer at their disposal to convey them to emin pasha in equatoria; and, to avoid ill-feeling and jealousy, he made known his plans to them at a public meeting, remarking that as most of them were natives of the greek islands, they had necessarily considerable experience of boats and navigation, and that therefore it became their duty to patrol with the steamers on the blue and white niles, and watch the enemy's movements; but secretly he warned them that they should be in readiness, as soon as they saw khartum was lost, to set off and join emin pasha. this plan did not, however, please the greeks, so gordon proposed another, which was that, in case of great danger, they should proceed north; and for this purpose he kept a steamer moored off the palace, well stocked with biscuits and other necessaries. to enable them to get their families on board during the night without the other townspeople knowing about it, he gave orders that after p.m. all traffic along the roads leading to the blue nile should be stopped, and that no persons were to be allowed out of their houses after that hour. in this way, should the dervishes enter the town by night, the greeks could easily escape to the steamer, start down stream, and meet the english. some of them resolved that, should the mahdiists effect an entrance, they would forcibly carry off gordon and put him on board the steamer, for they felt sure he would not leave khartum of his own accord. everything was carefully prearranged and considered; and all would have been well but for a disagreement amongst the greeks themselves, which mainly arose through the phlegmatic and short-sighted conduct of their consul nicola leontides. on that fatal sunday evening one of the principal greeks came to the consul and begged him urgently to spend that night on the steamer. the consul refused, arguing that there was no imminent danger, and that he was sure the troops could hold out a few days longer. the greek argued in vain, and at length left him; and that was the last time they saw each other. that night proved to be the last night on earth for gordon and thousands of others. while they were sleeping soundly, and dreaming perhaps of the arrival of the english, the dervishes were creeping like snakes towards the parapets. it is hardly likely gordon could have slept. for two days he had remarked considerable movement in the mahdi's camp; he had observed numbers of boats passing to and fro on the white and blue niles. he could not have doubted that the mahdi was preparing to strike the final blow. and so it proved, for he was planning the assault on khartum. he had received news of the destruction of his troops at abu klea and abu kru, and of the advance of the english. the mahdi was convinced that if one englishman reached khartum his chance of success was gone, and that he must retire to kordofan. that was his reason for attempting the assault. gordon, on the other hand, expected the arrival of the english at any moment; and while he was counting the hours which might elapse ere they could reach him, his enemies were shaking their lances with which they should pierce him. the moon had gone down, deep obscurity reigned; and now the dervishes stealthily advanced in perfect silence towards that portion of the defence which had been destroyed during the high nile, and which, as the river receded, had left an open space in which ditch and parapet had almost disappeared. here there was little to impede their entry; and the dervishes, shouting their wild battle-cry, dashed in wild disorder over this open ground. farag pasha commanded the whole of this portion of the defences. many people in the sudan, more especially those who used to be in the government service, say that farag pasha betrayed the town; but the fact that he was killed almost immediately after the fall points to his not having done so. it is a well-known fact that many of the senior officers were wavering, and numbers of khartum merchants were in correspondence with the mahdi. it is possible that their action may have assisted the dervishes. the latter naturally assert that khartum was captured entirely by force of arms, for any acknowledgment on their part of treachery within the town would tend to detract from the effect of the mahdi's success. the matter stands thus: the parapet which had been destroyed had never been repaired. this was not gordon's fault; in his desperate position he could not be everywhere. it is a thousand pities that he had not a few trusty european officers with him. with the exception of this defective portion near the white nile, the whole line of defence was almost impregnable; the ditch was so deep and the parapet so high that it would have been next to impossible to cross it. [illustration: a dervish emir, present in the attack on khartum, and afterwards captured at toski.] on coming through the open space the dervishes broke up into two parties. one party dashed along the parapet, breaking all resistance, and slaughtering the soldiers in all directions; the other party made for the town. the inhabitants, roused from their sleep by the shouts of the arabs and the din of rifle-shots, hurried out, anticipating what had occurred. like a pent-up stream suddenly released, over , wild dervishes, with hideous yells, rushed upon the , inhabitants of khartum, besides the , soldiers--all that was left of the , at the commencement of the siege. the only cry of these fanatical hordes was "kenisa! saraya!" ("to the church! the palace!")--_i.e._ the austrian mission church and gordon's palace, where they expected to find treasure stored up in the cellars, and priests and sisters. the surging mass threw itself on the palace, overflowed into the lovely garden, and burst through the doors in wild search for their prey; but gordon went alone to meet them. as they rushed up the stairs, he came towards them and tried to speak to them; but they could not or would not listen, and the first arab plunged his huge spear into his body. he fell forward on his face, was dragged down the stairs, many stabbed him with their spears, and his head was cut off and sent to the mahdi. such was the end of the brave defender of khartum. when i came from el obeid to omdurman i visited khartum, and went to the palace, where i was shown some black spots on the stairs which they told me were the traces of gordon's blood. on gordon's head being brought to the mahdi, he appeared to have been much displeased at his death--not because he felt pity for him, but he believed that gordon might join his army. had he not done so, he would have imprisoned him and reduced him to slavery. it was much better that gordon should have died when he did than have remained a captive in the hands of these cruel and fanatical arabs. gordon's head was hung on a tree in omdurman, and the wild multitude rejoiced in heaping curses on it and insulting it. after the palace, the mission building was the next principal object on which the wild, plunder-seeking arabs vented their fury. general gordon had some time previously hired this building, which was of stone and bomb-proof, and turned it into a powder magazine and ammunition store. the dervishes killed the guards mounted outside the garden, and then broke in, while others clambered over the high wall. a black who was employed in the mission garden was lying on the point of death on his mattress in the garden; the dervishes ended his life by ripping open his body. the mission gardener, brother domenico polinari, who had been left to take charge of the mission property, on the first alarm, had rushed to the main gate of the garden to see what was the matter. he opened the gate slightly, and, seeing an array of lances, he slammed to the gate with all his might, and fled to a small hut in the garden which was full of hay, and he hid himself in the corner underneath the hay. several slaves who were working in the garden followed his example; but they did not stay long, for, thinking it was not a sufficiently good hiding-place, they were running off to another hut when they were fallen upon and massacred. domenico heard their shrieks and the click of the sword which beheaded them from his place of concealment; but he dared not move from the spot, though half choked with the dry grass in which he lay. several dervishes entered the hut and thrust their spears into the hay to search for any one in concealment. one can realize the terror of poor domenico as the naked spear-heads were forced through and almost touched him. he lay, however, undiscovered for some hours, and at last the noise and din of rifle-shots grew less. though suffering agonies from thirst, he still did not dare to move till close on midnight, when he emerged from his bed of hay. all was still, the stillness of death. he could see the dervish guard fires; and, as he crept along, he stumbled over the dead body of the black who had been working in the garden. horror-stricken, he slowly moved forward again. at every step he saw a dead man, all of them labourers and watchmen who had attempted to escape when the dervishes entered. creeping under the shadow of the large lemon-trees, he reached the main gate, above which was a small hut which had been occupied by one of the black families belonging to the mission. the windows of the hut looked into the garden, and domenico scrambled through one of these into the room. here he found one of the women, halima, and begged her to give him some bread and water. he questioned her about the entrance of the dervishes and the fate of the inhabitants. she replied in a few words that the town had been stormed, and numbers of the inhabitants, as well as general gordon, consul hansal, and most of the europeans, had been killed. this was a new shock to the already terror-stricken domenico. he threw himself on the bed and begged that halima would not betray him; but she, fearing to be found out, crept out of the hut, went up to the dervishes who were collected round the camp fire, and told them that there was a turk in her cottage. some of them jumped up, and, following halima into the hut, they drove out the unfortunate domenico with the butt ends of their lances. he was brought in front of the camp fire and carefully searched for money; but he at once drew forty pounds out of his pocket, which he distributed amongst them, and they were satisfied and did not ill-treat him. on the following day he was taken before ahmed wad suleiman, the emin beit el mal, who made full inquiries of him regarding the mission money. domenico said that when the mission left khartum they took all the money with them, and had left nothing. domenico was then sent to the garden to work there for his new master, but soon afterwards was betrayed a second time, and fell into grievous trouble and danger. a few days before the fall of khartum he had buried £ in the garden, intending to make use of it when the needful time came; but one of the blacks who was working at the steam-pump in the garden, to whom domenico had confided his secret, and who was one of the garden labourers who had escaped the massacre, went and told ahmed sharfi (one of the mahdi's nearest relations) that domenico had concealed money. this he did to ensure his own safety, for the dervishes had been greatly disappointed in the quantity of loot they expected to find. in the palace they had discovered only paper money, and in the mission some furniture, instead of the treasure they had been led to expect. ahmed sharfi was therefore much pleased with the black's information, himself came to domenico and asked to be shown the place where the money was buried. in vain domenico protested that he had given all the money to gordon. he was at once knocked down and flogged with a kurbash; but the first stroke, which drew blood, made him cry for mercy; he disclosed the hiding-place, and, when ahmed sharfi had secured the money, he was released. the ruthless bloodshed and cruelty exercised by the dervishes in khartum is beyond description. i will briefly describe the deaths of the best-known people. nicola leontides, the greek consul, who, on account of his amiable character, was much respected in khartum, had his hands cut off first, and was then beheaded. martin hansal, the austrian consul, who was the oldest member of the european colony, was alive up till p.m., when some arabs from buri, led by his chief kavass, who was on bad terms with him, entered the courtyard of the house, and, on hansal being summoned to come down, he was at once beheaded. at the same time mulatte skander, a carpenter who lived with him, was killed in the same way. his body, together with that of his dog and parrot, were then taken out, alcohol poured over them, and set fire to. after a time, when the body had become like a red-hot coal, it was thrown into the river. human blood and ruthless cruelty alone seemed to satisfy the dervishes. the austrian tailor, klein, on making the sign of the cross, had his throat cut from ear to ear with a knife which was used to slaughter animals, and his life-blood was poured out before the eyes of his horror-stricken wife and children. not satisfied with the death of the father, they seized his son, a youth of eighteen, and, burying their lances in his body, they stretched him out at his mother's feet, a corpse! they then took counsel as to how they should kill the next son, a lad of fifteen. but by this time the mother, a daughter of cattarina nobili, of venice, was worked up into a state of mad despair. seizing her son of five years old with her right hand, while she held her suckling babe to her breast with her left, she fought against these murderers like a tigress being robbed of her young, and they could not wrest her children from her; but they seized her daughter, a girl of eighteen, who became the wife of an arab. the son-in-law of doctor georges bey (who had been killed in the hicks's expedition) was roused from sleep by the noise of the arabs breaking in. he rose from his bed, and, making the sign of the cross, rushed to the window, where he shouted "aman" ("security of life"); but a bullet struck him in the forehead, and he fell dead at the feet of his young wife. the dervishes forced their way into the house, broke in the door of the room where the dead man lay stretched out on the bed, killed another greek, and clove open the head of the little son, a boy of twelve years of age, with an axe, scattering his brains over his unfortunate mother, who was sitting beside him. she saved her little son of six months old by saying he was a girl. the mother herself was not killed, as she was with child, but she was reserved to become the wife of abderrahman wad en nejumi. aser, the american consul, fell down dead on seeing his brother beheaded before his eyes. the males of most of the coptic families were massacred, but the women were spared. i know several of these poor women who, from continuously weeping over the cruelties of that terrible th of january, have become quite blind. those men whose lives were spared have to thank providence that either they fell into the hands of those less cruel than their comrades, or that they did not quit their houses for two days, at the end of which time the first wild passions of these murderers had cooled down. the fate of seven greeks was a sad one; these were all together in one house, for, through a merciful providence, they had fallen into less cruel hands. it was past noon, and they were rejoicing at having escaped from the general massacre. then a certain george clementino entered. this clementino had originally come from el obeid, and had frequently been sent by the mahdi with messages to gordon, and when he returned from khartum to the mahdi, the latter treated him with much favour. when the capture of khartum was known in omdurman, clementino hastened to the town, with the intention of rescuing any compatriots he could find, and he soon heard of the seven surviving greeks. full of delight at their safety, he congratulated them, and advised them to make their way to the house of manoli, the greek who, with his wife and nephew, had escaped by concealing themselves in the dove-cot. it was clementino's intention to collect all the greeks here, and then take them to omdurman. the seven greeks trusted to their compatriot's name and influence to protect them, but dervishes were on the watch to stop them. as they were following clementino to manoli's house, which was only a short distance off--indeed, they had only gone a few steps--they were met by a party of ahmed sharfi's danagla, who were searching the streets filled with the dead and wounded, with the object of giving the _coup de grâce_ to any who might still be alive. when these murderers espied the party of white men from a short distance, they shouted, "look! some of these dogs, these unbelievers, are still alive," and, full of anger, they rushed upon the unfortunate greeks. clementino begged and prayed that they might be spared, but they were beheaded before his eyes, and he himself barely escaped with his life. pale, terror-stricken, and trembling, he fled to omdurman, and for some months he lay on the point of death, so great had been the shock of witnessing the massacre of his fellow-countrymen. numbers even of women and little children were not spared, and the torture which the survivors had to undergo, to force them to produce their money, are scarcely credible. ibrahim pasha fauzi (the favourite of gordon) was tied for several days to a date-palm and flogged till he gave up all his money. the old widow of mustafa tiranis was flogged almost to death. she was a rich circassian lady, and had supplied gordon with money in donkey loads, and had been decorated by him with the khartum medal. slaves were most cruelly tortured, beaten, and forced to disclose the hiding-places of their masters' money and treasures. the shaigieh tribe in particular was most harshly dealt with; this was the only tribe which remained loyal to the government, and even eight days after the fall of khartum, if a shaigi was seen, he was instantly killed; hence the dervish proverb, "esh shaigi, wad er rif el kelb ma yelga raha fil mahadieh" ("the shaigi, the egyptian, _i.e._, the white one, the dog, no rest shall he find in mahdieh").[g] farag pasha did not live long after the fall; some still said he had betrayed the town, and the dervishes were furious with him because, some ten days before the assault, during one of the preliminary attacks, he had shot abdullah wad en nur, an emir of great repute, and much beloved by the ansar. farag was summoned before wad suleiman, who ordered him to produce all the money he had. incensed at his treatment and at the charge of treachery, he fell into a hot dispute with wad suleiman, who had him forthwith beheaded as an unbeliever and an obstinate man. if he was really a traitor, he richly deserved his fate; but if not, his death was that of a brave man. when the massacre in khartum was at an end, the mahdi himself gave orders that the survivors should be spared, but the wild fury of these fanatical arabs had been satiated at the cost of , lives; the streets were filled with headless corpses, which were left unburied until the plunder had been distributed. the whole of khartum was now divided up amongst hundreds of emirs and their mukuddums. every emir planted his flag in the midst of the quarter captured by his men, and then the work of collecting the survivors was begun. ahmed wad suleiman ordered all free women and slaves to be brought to the beit el mal; here the young and good-looking fair women were locked up in a separate enclosure, the good-looking, unmarried sudanese girls in another zariba, and in a third were placed black slave girls, suitable as concubines. it is deplorable to think that at such a time were found certain of the well-known townsmen of khartum who assisted the dervishes to lay hands on all the prettiest girls in khartum; through their intermediary, many of the women who had cut off their hair, and in other ways concealed their beauty and sex by disguising themselves as men, fell into the hands of the ansar. may god's curse fall on those wicked traitors who delivered up these unfortunates in order to gain favour with the mahdi! what sufferings these miserable creatures underwent when they lay huddled together like cattle in a pen, awaiting their cruel fate! many of them were still in their silken robes, all bespattered with the blood of their husbands and children, and there they lay, awaiting their turn to become the wives of those who had murdered their husbands and their offspring! the first selection was, of course, made for the mahdi, who took for himself all girls of five years of age and upwards, who, in a few years' time, he would take to his harem; then came the turn of the three khalifas, whose selections were made especially under the direction of wad suleiman; then followed the emirs, each in the order of his rank, and one by one they made their choice of these wretched women. those that were left were distributed amongst the ansar. then were openly enacted sights which would have melted hearts of stone. the weeping and lamentation of the white women, as they prayed and besought the pity of their masters, the rough jeering and foul replies of these monsters, it is all too horrible to relate. the old unmarried women were given a few rags with which to partially cover themselves, and were sent to nejumi's camp, where they were kept in captivity for a few days. all suffered the agonies of hunger and thirst, heat and cold. little babies, not yet weaned, were left to die of hunger, and for weeks after the fall young widowed mothers could be seen wandering naked through the market at omdurman, begging. some poor women brought forth children in the streets, and there they would lie, mother and child, naked and foodless, until death came as a happy release from their misery. the mahdi had directed that all gold and silver jewellery, precious stones and ornaments, should be collected in the beit el mal; but of course most of this had already found its way into the pockets of the emirs; and, in spite of the mahdi's most stringent orders, and his threats that those who concealed the booty would be punished in hell-fire, still the ansar kept the loot and risked the eternal flames. considerable quantities of treasure were, however, collected in the beit el mal, for khartum was wealthy, and the women especially had quantities of gold and silver ornaments; but so much loot soon reduced the currency, and a sovereign was now valued at two and a half dollars. every penny was extracted from the prisoners by the lash, and all were reduced to complete beggary. they were then sent to nejumi's camp; and on their way thither they were again beaten and searched. they were kept a few days longer as prisoners in that camp, and then those who had the fortune to meet with relations or friends who had been released would weep together over their wretched state. the confusion was terrible. women wandered through the camps in search of their children, children sought their parents; but how few ever found them! after a time all the prisoners were permitted to live in omdurman, where they eked out a miserable existence by begging; but hunger, disease, and all the sufferings they had undergone carried off hundreds. for days they remained naked, scorched under the burning sun by day, and perished with cold at night. how could people accustomed to ease and comfort bear up against such hardships? when at length all the houses in khartum had been evacuated, the furniture, &c., removed, and their owners robbed of all they possessed, the effects were sold from the beit el mal at a low price. the various coloured stuffs were cut up and utilised for making the patches on the jibbehs (dervish uniform), gold brocades were purchased by those who knew their real value for a mere trifle, and the gold melted down and made into ornaments. mirrors and looking-glasses were chopped in pieces with axes, and valuable china and pottery articles, which might have been sold for much, were smashed in pieces. the beautiful khartum gardens were divided up amongst the chiefs; the khalifa abdullah became the possessor of gordon's garden, khalifa sherif took that of the roman catholic mission, and khalifa ali wad helu became owner of albert marquet's. every emir selected the best house he could find, and there he installed himself with his wives and slaves; while the ansar took the houses of the poorer copts and egyptians. but omdurman, and not khartum, was now considered the dervish capital. intoxicated by their success, and insatiable in their desire for women and plunder, the dervishes had forgotten altogether about the english, for whom gordon had waited so long. how cruel is fate! two days after the fall, on the th of january, , two steamers were seen slowly making their way along the western shore of tuti island. khartum and omdurman were electrified; a consultation was quickly held, and it was at once decided to prevent their landing. the english could be seen searching in all directions for some sign to show them that gordon was still alive; but the only answer they got was the rain of thousands of bullets fired from thousands upon thousands of rifles and guns at omdurman and fort mukrun. all rushed to the river bank. the women, seizing sticks and waving them over their heads, shrieked and yelled like hyenas, "mót lil inglez!" ("death to the english!") and they were prepared to rush at them with their sticks if they attempted to land. when the english saw this, they could have had little doubt as to what had happened; they turned back and disappeared. the rage of the dervishes at their departure was unbounded. they rained bullets and shell after them; but they were soon out of sight. let us now consider for a moment the chances of success of the english relief expedition. the defeat at abu klea struck terror into the mahdiists gathered round khartum; the arrival of some wounded men at omdurman added to the general alarm. had twenty redcoats arrived at khartum, it would have been saved. their presence would have given fresh courage to the inhabitants; and, confident of their approaching deliverance, they would have striven might and main to hold out longer. general gordon, assisted by the advice and energy of a few english officers, would have completely regained his influence. it is true, indeed, that the soldiers were weary of the long siege and continual fighting, and they had lost all faith in gordon's repeated promises that the english were coming. they became heart-broken and in despair; but khartum was not for long in the state of distress which prevailed in el obeid before that town fell. in khartum they had only been eating gum for a few days previous to the fall, while in el obeid they had existed on it for months, and had practically nothing else to live upon. had the khartum people but seen one englishman with their own eyes, they would have taken fresh courage, and would in all probability have held out for another month, until the relief for which they had waited so long was a _fait accompli_. the mahdi would not have dared to assault khartum; and even if he had, it is most probable he would have been beaten back. many survivors of khartum often said to me, "had we seen one englishman, we should have been saved; but our doubt that the english were really coming, and the feeling that gordon must be deceiving us, made us discouraged, and we felt that death would be preferable to the life of constant war and daily suffering we were leading during the siege." the unaccountable delay of the english was the cause of the fall of khartum, the death of gordon, and the fate of the sudan. the mahdi only made up his mind to attack when he heard that they had delayed at gubat. he did not begin to cross over his troops till the th of january, and it was not till sunday night that the crossing was complete. he could not have attacked earlier than he did. when the first news of his defeat at abu klea reached him he wished to raise the siege and retire to kordofan. if the english had appeared at any time before he delivered the attack he would have raised the siege and retired. indeed, it was always his intention to revisit el obeid before he made his attack. even to the present day people in the sudan cannot understand the reason for the delay. some say that the english general was wounded at abu klea, and was lying insensible, and that those who were acting for him did not dare to undertake any operations until he was sufficiently recovered to be able to give his own orders. the sudanese wondered why europeans, who generally take precautions for every eventuality, should not have done so in this case. others thought that kashm el mus pasha must have urged the english to attack the arabs about metemmeh and shendi, in revenge for the persistency with which they had attacked and harassed the steamers. the above are only some of the many reasons by which the sudanese seek to explain the delay after the battle of abu klea. when the english were convinced that khartum had fallen, they retreated north. once the town had fallen, the little english fighting force was in the gravest peril; the mahdi had now his entire force at his disposal to combat them. he at once despatched nejumi and a large number of his best emirs with a large force; and had not the english already retreated before he reached metemmeh, they could not have escaped. the mahdi was furious when he heard that the english, who had killed such numbers of his best troops, had retired; and, though the latter failed in their object, still their bold attempt to snatch the prey from the lion's mouth must remain for ever a grand exploit. the bravery of the english in advancing on khartum with such a small number of men is always a source of wonder to the sudanese. but, alas, what a useless sacrifice of blood and money! the relief came too late. the memory of gordon, the heroic defender of khartum, is still held in respectful remembrance in the sudan. his bravery, generosity, and voluntary self-sacrifice have won the admiration of his bitterest enemies. it is the common saying amongst moslems, "had gordon been one of us, he would have been a perfect man." i will now give a slight sketch of the events subsequent to the fall, and the fate of the town. after the retreat of the english, the new masters of khartum settled down and made themselves comfortable. the ashraf, _i.e._ the mahdi's relatives, especially made themselves at home in the best houses and gardens, the best dancers entertained them by night, and they lived a life of ease and luxury. after the death of the mahdi, which occurred on the nd of june, , his successor, the khalifa abdullah, looked on the prosperity of khartum with jealous eyes. when i arrived in khartum from el obeid in april , i visited every part of the town, and examined it most carefully; very few houses had been destroyed, and the town was thickly populated. i also visited the lines of defence between the blue and white niles, they extended about six kilometres. the impression i gathered from the appearance of the ditch, which at that time had been much damaged by the heavy rains, was that it could not have been crossed, except near the white nile where it was quite choked up with mud and sand. at various points along the line there were strongly-built forts manned with guns, and a little in rear of the parapets were high structures which commanded the ditch; behind every loophole were small mud shelters, evidently made by the troops to protect themselves from the cold and strong winds. the messalamieh gate was built of burnt bricks and cement and was then in a good state, but the iron gate lay unopened against the side of the ditch. i counted about bodies along the parapet; there they lay, shrivelled up like mummies, while rats and mice had made their homes in them. in one place i saw two bodies tied together by the feet, they had evidently been killed in this position. it was impossible to distinguish the egyptians from the blacks, for the sun had burnt up and shrivelled the skin into one black colour. here, where there had been such bustling activity, now only the stillness of the tomb prevailed. as one walked along, lizards and other reptiles would creep from beneath the skeletons and dart off to take refuge under others. i strolled on from the messalamieh gate to the european cemetery. here what desolation and desecration met my eyes! the crosses had been smashed to pieces and lay strewn about in little bits. graves had been dug up and the bodies pulled out. i recognised from their clothes three who had died in january . the grave of bishop comboni, who had died on the th of october, , and had been buried in the mission garden, had also been opened, but the obelisk erected to his memory by the townspeople of khartum had not been destroyed. the church bells had been pulled down, but lay there in the garden undamaged. shortly after my visit, khartum was reduced to ruins. the khalifa abdullah, jealous of the ashraf, who had completely established themselves in the town, and whose actions he could not therefore sufficiently supervise, determined to order its evacuation. in august the command was given to all to quit the town within three days; it was carried out at once, and on the fourth day the destruction of khartum began. houses were pulled down, the wood of the windows, balconies, and doors was transported to omdurman, and within a very short time the whole place was in ruins; the burnt bricks were for the most part brought to omdurman; the only buildings which were spared were the arsenal, in which work still continues to be done, gordon's palace, and the mission house. in fact, khartum is now nothing but a heap of mud ruins, here and there a wall is left standing, everywhere large prickly thorn bushes have sprung up and cover as with a veil the sad remnants of the once thriving and populous metropolis of the sudan. footnotes: [g] according to the mahdi doctrine, dogs, being considered impure animals, are destroyed; but this subject will be considered in another chapter. chapter ix. the mahdi's last days. ohrwalder's criticisms on certain events connected with the defence of khartum--the sudan devastated by small-pox--the mahdi gives way to a life of pleasure--description of his harem life--the mahdi sickens and dies--the effect on his followers--the khalifa abdullah succeeds--party strife and discord--abdullah prevails--events in sennar and kassala. looking back on the events which occurred during the siege of khartum, i cannot refrain from saying that i consider gordon carried his humanitarian views too far, and that this excessive forbearance on his part both injured the cause and considerably added to his difficulties. it was gordon's first and paramount duty to rescue the europeans, christians, and egyptians from the fanatical fury of the mahdi, which was specially directed against them. this was gordon's clear duty, but unfortunately he allowed his kindness of heart to be made use of to his enemy's advantage. khartum during the siege was full of the wives, relations, and children of men who had joined the dervishes, and were foremost in their efforts to harass and attack the town. these crafty people thus assured themselves that should the mahdi be victorious, their loyalty to him would ensure the safety of their families and property in khartum, while, on the other hand, should gordon be victorious then their wives and families would be able to mediate for them with the conquerors. thus in his kindness of heart did gordon feed and support the families of his enemies. it was quite sufficient for a number of women to appeal to gordon with tears in their eyes, that they were starving, for him to order that rations of corn should at once be issued to them, and thus it was that the supplies in the hands of the government were enormously reduced. had gordon, in the early stages of the siege, relieved khartum of the presence of these people, as he subsequently was forced to do, he would have had supplies sufficient to prolong the resistance of his troops far beyond the limits at which they had arrived when the assault took place, and, after all, should not gordon's first care have been for his troops? his men clamoured against the lavish way in which gordon distributed what should have been their rations amongst the families of the besiegers, but it was of no avail. gordon should have recognised that the laws of humanity differ in war from peace time, more especially when the war he was waging was especially directed against wild fanatical savages who were enemies to all peace. he was entirely deceived if he believed that by the exercise of kindness and humanity he was likely to win over these people to his side; on the contrary, they ridiculed his generosity and only thought it a sign of weakness. the sudanese respect and regard only those whom they fear, and surely those cruel and hypocritical mahdiists should have received very different treatment to civilized europeans. i also think that gordon brought harm on himself and his cause by another action which i am convinced led to a great extent to his final overthrow. such men as slatin, lupton, saleh wad el mek, and others had offered at the risk of their lives to come and serve him. it is almost certain that some means could have been found of rescuing from slavery these brave men who had defended their provinces with the greatest determination against treachery from within and overwhelming numbers from without, and they could have rendered him most valuable and useful services. none knew better than these men the weak and the strong points of the mahdi's rule and his method of warfare, and it is quite possible that they might have been able to alter the fate of khartum. in the mahdi's camp they were looked upon as brave and skilful leaders, indeed they were feared, and that is why they were put in chains, as it was thought they might attempt to escape. had they been permitted to enter khartum they would not only have been able to assist in the mahdi's overthrow, but they would have been able to encourage the garrison. gordon would not, however, even vouchsafe an answer to the letters of appeal these men wrote to him. he could not have believed they were traitors, such an idea could not have entered into the mind of an european. the mahdi never for an instant doubted their inclinations, and treated them with the greatest mistrust; but even to these savages the idea of killing men who had been loyal to the government, and had fought bravely for their provinces, was objectionable, unless they could have produced a really valid reason for doing so. how was it possible gordon could be for an instant in doubt as to the inclinations and intentions of these men? i feel strongly on these points, and therefore cannot refrain from mentioning them. after the fall of khartum only two strong places remained in the hands of the government, kassala and sennar, both of which were closely besieged. the english had retired north, and the mahdi could rest at last, assured that he was now possessor of the sudan. the enormous multitudes around khartum had been engaged during the whole of the winter season in war, consequently cultivation was neglected, and had it not been for the quantities of cattle available, a disastrous famine must have occurred. as it was, there was a great deal of distress, and numbers died of starvation. famine and war had brought disease in their train. in addition to fever and dysentery, small-pox, which in the sudan is endemic, increased with fearful rapidity. in omdurman hundreds died, and the principal business of the beit el mal was distributing "kafans" (shrouds). it was curious that the sudanese, who much dread this disease, should have attributed it to the english; but that they did so is a fact, and this is how it came about. when the english retired, from gubat, they left behind them a quantity of preserved stores and tinned meat. the dervishes, in spite of the belief that they contained pork, which is an abomination to them, were so hungry that they consumed almost everything they found, and it is said that almost immediately afterwards they were attacked by small-pox, which gave rise to the idea that the english had mixed their food with the germs of the disease, and this was implicitly believed in. owing to the prevalence of small-pox in omdurman, many people fled to kordofan, darfur, and other places, and consequently caused the disease to spread over the whole country. several false doctors, with the sole object of making money, guaranteed to check the disease by inoculation; but as the inoculated matter was frequently in itself diseased, the epidemic was still further increased. notwithstanding this national calamity, the mahdi now gave himself up to a life of ease and luxury, in which the unfortunate women captured in khartum played a prominent part. he represented that all those who died of small-pox were suffering god's punishment for being evil-minded or having appropriated the booty. people believed what he said, and would still believe him, if he were alive and told them even more incredible things. the capture of khartum had, of course, raised his prestige enormously, and now the belief in his divine message needed no further confirmation. before the assault took place he said that he would divide the river into two parts, just as moses had divided the red sea, so that his followers could cross to khartum on dry land if they failed to take it by assault. his promise, too, that very few should fall by the sword, not only encouraged them in the attack, but its verification served only to further prove his divinity. his uncle, sayid abdel kader, up to the time of the fall of khartum, still doubted that he was the true mahdi; but, once the town was taken, he doubted no longer. [illustration: an egyptian harem woman.] all this success increased the adulation and worship of the mahdi to an extraordinary extent, and as for himself, although he was continually warning his followers to despise the good things of this world, and to abandon all luxurious modes of life, he surrounded himself with every sort of comfort and luxury, appreciating to the utmost the very pleasures which he declaimed so violently. he urged moderation in eating and drinking, yet he secured for himself every dainty which khartum could possibly produce. he now wore shirts and trousers of the finest material, and, before putting them on, his wives were obliged to perfume them with incense and other costly fragrances. his wives attended on him in turns, but no regularity was preserved. they anointed his body with all sorts of precious unguents, but his speciality was the expensive "sandalia" (a perfume prepared from sandal-wood and oil), and so saturated was he with these perfumes that when he went forth the air was laden with sweet-smelling odours. the courtyard of his harem was full of women, from little turkish girls of eight years old to the pitch-black dinka negress or copper-coloured abyssinian; almost every tribe in the sudan supplied its representative, so that one might say the entire sudanese woman-world was to be seen here. amongst this vast concourse four only were lawful wives; the remainder were considered as "ghenima," or booty, and were looked upon as slaves and concubines. his principal wife was called "aisha," or, as she is better known in omdurman, "om el muminin" (the mother of the faithful). she was a woman of considerable influence, for the wives of all the principal emirs visited her, and she was assisted by them in elaborating an extensive system of espionage. alas, how many unfortunate girls were left weeping day and night for their miserable state, robbed by this aisha of their happiness and liberty! the mahdi's dwelling was built for the most part of the captured loot. from the boards of general hicks's stable he had two huts built, and near these a hut made of mortar and a small magazine. this man, who hitherto had but a small straw mat, now lay on fine bedsteads originally brought from jedda and captured in khartum, while the floors were spread with persian carpets. here was this divine mahdi leading indoors a life of the most immoderate uxoriousness, whilst outside his fanatical followers hailed him as the direct messenger of god, sent to purge the world from the evil practices of the hated turk. two persons whom i knew well, and who had visited the mahdi less than three weeks before his death, gave me an account of the sort of life he was then leading. it was the month of ramadan, the great fast, and any one who failed to keep it strictly was punishable by death. from noon till midnight people used to crowd to the mosque, which was then only a large enclosure surrounded by a zariba. thousands of dervishes could be accommodated in this large rectangular space, in which the clash of a forest of spears indicated their impatience to see the mahdi as he came to prayers; they had seen him hundreds and hundreds of times before, but they seemed never tired of gazing at him, and often fought to get a place near the mihrab (niche) where he prayed. whilst the impatient murmur of thousands of voices indicates that the time of his approach has almost arrived, let us for a moment turn into the mahdi's harem, and here is a true picture of what my friends there beheld. the mahdi reclining on a magnificent carpet, his head propped up by a pillow covered with gold brocade; he is clothed in a linen shirt of finest texture, a pair of drawers, and a gallabieh; his shaved head covered by a takia of embroidered silk. upwards of thirty women stand around him; some fan him with great ostrich feathers, others gently rub his feet (a practice in which the sudanese delight), without in any way disturbing his slumber; others gently smooth his hands, and aisha lies beside him, covering his head and neck with loving embraces. meanwhile hundreds of ansar are shouting outside his zariba, impatiently awaiting his blessing, and anxiously expecting to hear his voice. the eunuchs are trying to drive off this importunate crowd with whips, but they will not leave until they have obtained the earnestly sought blessing. at length one of the eunuchs enters, and receives from aisha the blessing, which she gives without disturbing the mahdi. he then returns and tells the impatient crowd that the mahdi is at present in deep contemplation, but that he is graciously pleased to give them his blessing, which is then repeated. this is the signal for a wild shout of joy, and then they return to the mosque to range themselves in their appointed lines for prayers. and now those who were not present to receive the blessing press forward to touch the others, and thus obtain some of its virtue. the mahdi is gradually sinking from his half doze into a sound slumber, when aisha very gently rouses him and tells him that the appointed time for ablutions and prayers is already passed. the women now assist him to rise, his red shoes are brought, and then he proceeds to the place of ablution, followed by four women carrying his water-bottle. on his return the women throw themselves down frantically on the spots which his feet have touched, and struggle with each other in their endeavours to embrace the ground on which he has trodden. it is believed that the earth touched by the mahdi's foot has healing properties, and has, moreover, the effect of ensuring a quick and painless delivery; it is therefore distributed amongst holy women, and even to this day is carefully preserved for the purpose which i have cited. not a drop, too, of the water with which the mahdi has washed is allowed to be wasted, but is hoarded with the greatest care, and drunk as an unfailing remedy for every sort of illness and malady. but to return to my friends' description. the mahdi's ablutions over, his son bashra runs up to him and shows him a golden ring his mother has given him. bashra asks permission to wear the ring, but the mahdi, who has by this time noticed the presence of two strangers, says, "oh, my son, only the turks wear such ornaments, because they love the things of this world; but it is not becoming in us to wear such ornaments, which are perishable; we strive to obtain things imperishable. give the ring back to your mother." the little hypocrite well understands what his father means, and obeys. aisha then clothes the mahdi in his dervish jibbeh, girdle, and turban, and in this godly raiment he marches off to the mosque. as he quits the palace, his bodyguard surround him and keep off the crowd. on reaching the mihrab he is received with a shout by the assembled multitude. after prayers he gives a short sermon, and then returns to his wives. thus did the mahdi enjoy the sweets of victory indoors, whilst outside he practised the most abominable hypocrisy. most of his principal emirs (with the exception of his uncle, sayid abdel karim, who had been sent to reduce sennar) followed in their divine master's footsteps, and led a life of pleasure and debauchery. sometimes the mahdi used to cross over to khartum and disport himself in gordon's palace, whither he ordered a portion of his harem to be transferred. but all this good living and unbridled sensuality were to be the cause of his speedy dissolution. he grew enormously fat. the two visitors, whom i mentioned above, saw him only eight days before his death, and told me that they believed then he could not live much longer. early in ramadan he fell sick, and soon became dangerously ill. the hand of god's justice fell heavily upon him; and it was decreed that he should no longer enjoy the empire which he had raised on the dead bodies of thousands of the victims to his wretched hypocrisy and deceit. it is, indeed, terrible to think of the awful misery and distress brought upon his own country by this one man. his disease grew rapidly worse; he complained of pain in the heart, and died, on the nd of june, , of fatty degeneration of the heart. some say that he was a victim to the vengeance of a woman who had lost husband and children in the fall of khartum, and who repaid the mahdi's outrage on her own person by giving him poison in his food. this may be so; and it is true, poison is generally used in the sudan to put people out of the way; but i am rather inclined to think that it was outraged nature that took vengeance on its victim; and that it was the mahdi's debauched and dissolute mode of life which caused his early death. he died in the mortar hut, which i previously described; and his adherents gave out that he was about to travel through the heavens for a space of three years. people were not allowed to say "the mahdi is dead," but "el mahdi intakal" (_i.e._ "the mahdi has been removed"). the shock of his death was terrible. the wild fanatics were, so to speak, struck dumb; their eyes were suddenly opened; and their very confusion showed that they had realized, the mahdi was a liar. omdurman was full of suppressed murmuring; and the people were collected in groups, talking of this awful catastrophe. those who were oppressed believed that the sudden collapse of mahdieh must result in a revolution. no one believed that the mahdi's party could continue ruling in his name. would that some good man could have been found to rapidly seize this opportunity of putting himself at the head of the anti-mahdiists; he must have been successful! the confusion in the mahdi's household was beyond description; his women wept and wailed in the wildest grief. ahmed wad suleiman and the mahdi's nearest relatives prepared a grave immediately beneath the bed on which he had died; the body was washed, wrapped in a shroud, according to the moslem custom, and, in the presence of the khalifas and all the members of the mahdi's family, it was lowered into the grave, amidst the lamentations and wailing of the enormous crowd collected outside the building. before the grave was filled in, the body was sprinkled with perfumes; then each person present took a handful of earth and threw it into the grave, amidst murmurs of "ya rahman, ya rahim!" (_i.e._ o merciful, o gracious god!) a simple monument was erected over the tomb. thus ended the mahdi--a man who left behind him a hundred thousand murdered men, women, and children, hundreds of devastated towns and villages, poverty, and famine. upon his devoted head lies the curse of his people whom he had forced into a wild and fanatical war, which brought indescribable ruin upon the country, and which exposed his countrymen to the rule of a cruel tyrant, from whom it was impossible to free themselves. before his death, the mahdi had nominated the khalifa abdullah as his successor; he saw that this was the only man capable of holding in check the rapacious sudanese tribes, and of governing the strange empire which he had raised; but the selection of this "foreigner" was a bitter disappointment to the danagla and jaalin, who, hitherto rulers, had now to become the ruled; and from whose hands their authority was transferred to the cruel and tyrannical baggaras, who henceforth became the conquerors of the sudan, and who governed its inhabitants with a rod of iron. in nominating the khalifa abdullah, the mahdi threw the firebrand of discord amongst the hitherto united ranks of mahdieh, and thereby greatly weakened his cause. it was hard for the mahdi to die, just when he had established an empire stretching from the bahr el ghazal to egypt, and from darfur to the red sea; he had neither had the time nor the inclination to try and govern it; his mission had been the destruction of all existing forms of government; and he had carried it out to the letter. immediately after the mahdi's death, the khalifa abdullah summoned a meeting, and then and there insisted on the two khalifas and the ashraf acknowledging him as the khalifat el mahdi (or mahdi's successor). after a long discussion it was at length agreed to, and he gave a solemn assurance that he would follow absolutely in the mahdi's footsteps. just at this time the agitation was too great for him to think of introducing the selfish and ambitious plans which he had already formulated. moreover, sennar and kassala were still holding out; it was therefore the first necessary step to be most conciliating on all sides, and to all parties. the mahdi's name was still paramount in inspiring fanaticism; and therefore the khalifa's watchword became "ed din mansur" (religion is victorious); thus he sought to establish unity and concord by means of the new religion which the mahdi had founded, and which, now that its originator was dead, he sought to make unassailable. nevertheless, discord very soon sprang up. the khalifa sherif and the ashraf were furious at being out of power, and they could not long conceal their discontent. each khalifa now did his utmost to show his independence of the other; each of them rode about in omdurman in the greatest splendour, as if he were a king, and ordered his own great war-drum to be beaten. jealousy, hatred, and discontent spread rapidly amongst the people; and soon omdurman was divided into two distinct camps: khalifas sherif and ali wad helu in the one, and khalifa abdullah in the other. both parties now prepared for battle. abdullah had the baggaras and blacks, under fadl maula (abu anga's brother). there were frequent disputes in the market-place; and every day it was thought a fight must take place. at length matters reached such a stage that abdullah challenged the two other khalifas to fight on the open plain, on which the great reviews usually take place, just outside the town. the two parties collected their entire forces; but it was evident the baggaras were by far the stronger; and as they marched out they shouted "môt el gellaba" ("death to the gellabas!" _i.e._ the danagla, in contradistinction to the baggara). khalifa wad helu now acted the part of mediator, and went across to confer with abdullah; the troops of the latter were drawn up in battle-array, and quite prepared for the fray. khalifa sherif feared to enter the lists alone, and therefore he submitted; he was obliged to hand over his soldiers, arms, ammunition, flags, and war-drums, which abdullah took possession of, and was allowed to retain only fifty men, with firearms, as a bodyguard. thus abdullah constituted himself the one and only ruler, and showed that he was quite resolved to allow no one else to share his authority with him. gradually he reduced the power of the two other khalifas and of the ashraf, and in a short time they became men of little influence. the mahdi's two uncles, abdel karim and abdel kader, who showed the most open and violent animosity, were at once thrown into chains, their houses destroyed, and themselves declared enemies of the mahdi; and, as we shall presently relate, he ordered abu anga to secure zogal and put him in prison. whilst all these disturbances were going on in omdurman, the two places, sennar and kassala, in which government troops were still holding out, were now in the greatest straits; and i will here give a brief account of the events which occurred. sennar had suffered from the mahdiists for a very long time. ahmed wad el makashef had besieged it in ; abdel kader pasha, governor-general of the sudan, had advanced to its relief with a large force, had defeated the makashef, and then raised the siege. abdel kader himself was wounded in this fight, and his watch was broken to pieces by a bullet. sennar and khartum were once more in communication. it is unfortunate that abdel kader, who was greatly feared by the sudanese, was recalled to egypt. in the rebels again attacked sennar, but were repulsed. it was then besieged by el mehrdi abu rof, who succeeded in defeating the egyptian troops under nur bey. i shall presently relate how this mehrdi was afterwards treated by the sudanese. some say that the fall of khartum had a very discouraging effect on the gallant garrison of sennar; but this was not so--they determined to make a stand. the mudir, hassan sadik, who had been put in chains by nur bey, volunteered, if he should be released, to attack the rebels, and, in fact, he succeeded in driving them off; but on his return to the town he fell into an ambush and was killed. brave nur bey again pursued the enemy, and succeeded in inflicting a further defeat on them. abdel karim now arrived with a large force, and summoned the garrison to surrender. nur bey refused, and on the th of june the city was assaulted; but abdel karim was driven back, and was himself wounded in the thigh. he then decided to make the garrison capitulate by famine. the siege was pressed very closely, and on the th of july nur bey made a successful sortie, inflicting considerable loss on the enemy; but he too was wounded in the leg, and was rendered permanently lame. the determined defence of the town now induced the khalifa to despatch wad en nejumi with large reinforcements. meanwhile the garrison had been suffering greatly from famine, and nur bey had decided to make a last sortie, which should be under the command of hassan bey osman; but this proved unsuccessful, the commander was killed on the th of august, , and nur bey was forced to capitulate. of the , men of whom the garrison had originally consisted, only remained--a tangible proof of the vigorous and determined resistance they had made. it is thought throughout the sudan that the defence of sennar was most praiseworthy. nur bey still lives in omdurman. only last year his old wound was cut open to remove the splinters of bone. he was better again when i escaped, but is still lame. wad en nejumi arrived two days after the fall of the town and found it in ruins. all that is left of sennar are a few mud and sand heaps, and its very name has ceased to exist, although early in this century it was better known even than dongola or kordofan. kassala alone was left. this town is situated on the khor el gash, not far from the atbara river, and about midway between khartum and massawah. it had a population of , , and was surrounded by a wall. here the celebrated moslem, sid el hassan, is buried, and a dome is erected over his grave. this man was greatly venerated in the eastern sudan; and if any one swears by his name, it is believed that he must be speaking the truth. one of his pupils, whom i met in omdurman, told me of his miracles, of which i will quote one or two examples. one day he was preaching a sermon; and when it was over, several of the listeners came to him and begged for alms. sid el hassan struck his knee, and forthwith a number of dollars fell out--the exact sum for which the beggars had asked. amongst the bystanders was a poor shame-faced man, who immediately begged that he might have one dollar. sid el hassan again struck his knee, and one dollar fell out, which he at once handed to the man, saying, "this is for the poor shame-faced one." the man at once fell at his feet and gratefully kissed his hands. all who were present were greatly astonished at this miracle, and some, bolder than the rest, approached sid el hassan and touched him, when they found, to their wonder, that he felt just like a sack full of dollars. on another occasion two travellers arrived, with the intention of making a map of the country. having failed in their purpose, they applied to sid el hassan for advice, and, after offering them food and drink, he handed to them the map they required. he performed many different miracles, and was, moreover, a very tolerant man, rendering the government many valuable services, especially when he succeeded in stopping a revolt of the soldiers. during all the recent events, his relations remained perfectly loyal. but to return to my narrative. when osman digna came to the sawakin neighbourhood, he sent the emir, mustafa hadal, to commence the siege of kassala; but, as the shukrieh tribe supplied quantities of corn, it was enabled to stand a very prolonged siege. in january , it was assaulted, and the mudir suffered serious loss. the arabs, who had hitherto remained loyal, seeing no hope of help from the government, also deserted. the siege was now more closely pressed, and the suburb of khatmieh was nearly captured; but the enemy were at length driven back. a treaty was concluded with abyssinia to relieve the egyptian garrisons and bring them through that country to massawah; and though at that time all the donkeys in the town had been eaten, they still hoped for relief. in june , the city was hemmed in on all sides, and was in a desperate condition. nevertheless the attempted assault on the th of the month was successfully repulsed, and the mudir pursued the enemy, of whom he killed . he also succeeded in capturing , head of cattle. this enabled the town to hold out for a short time; and the news of the mahdi's death served to further encourage the garrison. but at last the town was reduced to absolute starvation, and, on condition that the lives of the inhabitants should be spared, the mudir surrendered. no sooner, however, were the arms given up than the conquerors began to pillage the town and inflict all sorts of cruelties on the people. osman digna, who was at that time furious on account of his defeat by ras alula on the nd of september at kufit, vented his wrath on the unfortunate mudir, ahmed bey effat, hassan agha, and ibrahim eff shawki, and also on two greeks, stello apostolidi and tadros manioseh, whom he caused to be beheaded on the th of september, . from that time kassala remained under osman digna; but in , when the latter was fully occupied in his operations against sawakin, the khalifa sent abu girgeh there as emir. when abu girgeh was subsequently sent to tokar, sayid hamed became emir of kassala, which from that time formed a part of the province of galabat, of which sheikh nasri, of the bederieh tribe, became emir. abu girgeh was eventually sent to berber to replace osman wad dekeim, who had fallen into disgrace. this osman was very anxious to marry a pretty woman he had seen in berber, and had frequently visited her in the hope that she would consent; but the woman, who did not want to marry him, decided on a stratagem, and agreed to have a rendezvous on a certain day. she, however, told her brothers and relations to lie in wait; and when osman arrived at the appointed hour, and was almost sure that he had succeeded, the brothers suddenly broke into the hut and thrashed him so soundly that he made off, and resolved not to urge his suit a second time. abu girgeh did not long remain on good terms with this low arab, and soon they were both recalled to omdurman; the former was again sent to kassala, where he accused nasri of having oppressed the inhabitants, and appropriated a quantity of money; the latter fled to omdurman, where the khalifa pardoned him. sayid hamid also quarrelled with abu girgeh, and just before i left the sudan i was told that the khalifa had recalled him on suspicion that he was in league with the italians. it is generally believed in the sudan that italy will shortly take possession of the weakly defended kassala, but accurate information of occurrences in the eastern sudan is more likely to be received in cairo than in omdurman. chapter x. the escape of father bonomi. ohrwalder continues to describe his personal experiences--mahmud the emir of el obeid--his unsuccessful attempts to entrap the nubas--the arrival of olivier pain in el obeid--his motives in joining the mahdi--his journey towards omdurman--his sad fate--lupton bey arrives at el obeid from the bahr el ghazal--he is sent to omdurman and thrown into chains--life in el obeid--the escape of father bonomi--ohrwalder's solitude--the death of the khojur kakum. i must now return to the narrative of my own personal experiences, which i broke off in order to follow those events of the mahdi's career in which i did not take part. before the mahdi left rahad, i was again handed over to yet another master; this was sherif mahmud, the mahdi's uncle, and governor of kordofan, and i was put into his charge when he came to rahad to see the mahdi off. i stayed a few days with mahmud at rahad. i was then in a wretched state of health; to my horror i discovered black spots on my body, my teeth were chattering, and then i knew that i had scurvy. i longed to escape to the dobab hills, but my guards were always with me, and i could not succeed. at length mahmud started back for el obeid, and he gave me one of the few surviving mules of the hicks expedition, which had been wounded by a bullet in the neck and which had never healed. the heavy rain had entirely changed the aspect of the country, which was now a mass of green, and under any other circumstances the journey would have been pleasant enough. we were twice overtaken by terrible thunder-storms, which obliged us to halt, as the heavy rain made travelling impossible; at night we had to sleep on the wet ground. as we approached el obeid we heard the war-drums beating, to announce the governor's arrival. the great sandy plain around was transformed into green fields planted with dokhn. we halted for a time under the leafy adansonia tree, under which the mahdi's tent had been pitched, and i noticed that the entire bark of the tree had been peeled off. i afterwards learnt that the people believed the mahdi's presence had hallowed the tree, and that in consequence the bark had been stripped off and boiled, the liquid being used as medicine or for witchcraft purposes. only a few huts were left standing in el obeid, and mahmud went to live in the mudirieh. he had a great reception on his arrival, and the most profuse flattery was showered upon him. it was the usual thing to say that "during his absence the town had been as still as the grave and as dark as night, but, thanks be to god, on his return light was once more restored," &c., &c. the sherif delighted in this adulation. a few days after our arrival, father bonomi was brought from rahad to el obeid in chains, and he and i were given a small hut in the midst of his slaves' quarters, where it was thought we would be in safe custody. sherif mahmud was a small thin man about fifty years of age, full of wiry strength and with evil, malignant-looking eyes. he had formerly been a slave-dealer in dar fertit and had then joined zubeir pasha's army. even at abba he was one of the mahdi's most fanatical adherents. he pretended to hate the things of this world, was always poorly dressed, and before others always eat of the worst and humblest food. but he was inordinately proud, and loved the power of commanding. during his prayers he used to throw about his arms and legs and shout "hoa! hoa!" ("it is he! it is he!" _i.e._ god). his followers used to say that when he did this he saw god in his vision; but others who knew him of old laughed at these antics, though at the same time they were afraid of him and indulged him with flattery. he was excessively severe and strict, but was impartial in his administration of justice. he dealt very severely with the robbers who now infested el obeid, and cut off a number of hands and feet. he thoroughly believed in the mahdi's divine message, and had the reputation of being the bravest of the family. he had received a bullet wound at gedir, and at shekan he was always in front, carrying a flag, until he disappeared in the smoke; he fell pierced by two bullets and was thought to have been killed; after the battle, however, his people found him lying on the ground with both legs broken; but he recovered. he carried such a number of arms that men laughed at him. in addition to the two broad-bladed spears, he carried two smaller ones, as well as a number of javelins in a quiver; from his shoulder hung his sword and a small remington rifle, while his girdle was stuck all over with revolvers and knives. women always fled out of his path, for he whipped them ruthlessly; sometimes he would dash amongst a crowd of women on his horse and lay about him right and left. he had a very choice harem, and amongst his women was a young egyptian girl; it is the great desire of a mahdiist to possess a fair woman, and they often have recourse to the most violent and cruel practices in order to acquire what they want. mahmud frequently went through his prayers with his wives and concubines, and on one occasion they began to laugh, in consequence of which the egyptian girl was sent away and the rest flogged. from this date he took an intense dislike to all the fair-skinned people, and the few egyptian families who still lived in el obeid were banished from it. he flattered himself that neither abu anga nor nejumi understood how to wage war against the nubas, and therefore he once more determined to attack these mountaineers; but he set about it in a very different manner from his predecessors. he armed takruris and instructed them to encamp at the foot of the mountain; they were to say they were at enmity with the dervishes and desired the friendship and assistance of the nubas. meanwhile mahmud pitched his camp at rahad, and was in constant readiness for the attack. at first the nubas were inclined to fall into the trap, and made a treaty of friendship with the takruris; but they too had recourse to a still more successful stratagem, and when the takruris seemed quite certain of their prey, the nubas suddenly fell upon them during a wild, stormy night and killed almost all of them, very few escaped, and mahmud was obliged to return crestfallen to el obeid. on the th of august, , a great surprise came upon el obeid. quite unexpectedly, at about two o'clock in the afternoon, a european and three arabs, mounted on good camels, entered the open yard of the mudirieh, where ali bakhit, the chiefs, and a number of dervishes were assembled. the european dismounted, and boldly advanced towards the crowd. he was tall, and gave one the impression of being a powerful and energetic man; he had a fair beard, and his face was very sunburnt. his appearance made a great commotion amongst the dervishes. immediately all sorts of wild rumours were flying about; some said he was the king of france; others that he was one of the principal ministers of that nation. he wore a jibbeh, white cap and turban, and at once was directed to ali bakhit. being unable to speak arabic, father bonomi was immediately summoned to act as interpreter; but he had much difficulty in making himself understood. the stranger informed bonomi that he had marched from dongola to el obeid in thirteen days; that he had escaped from dongola, as the english had endeavoured to thwart him in his projects; that his name was olivier pain, and that he was the bearer of letters from zubeir pasha to the mahdi; but that fear of the english had obliged him to destroy them. he said that he came in the name of france, to place his nation's submission in the mahdi's hands; and that he was prepared to assist the mahdi, both by advice and, if required, by deeds. after this statement olivier pain was searched, and at once relieved of his money; a small hut was then pointed out, in which he was to live, in charge of a guard; the three guides were also secured in another place. the dervishes did not credit pain's statement; they could not believe it possible that a european would voluntarily come into the sudan to join the mahdi; they entirely distrusted europeans, whose mental superiority they thoroughly recognised; they therefore concluded that pain was a spy sent by the english to take stock of the situation. on the following day bonomi was again summoned; the various articles pain had brought with him were laid before him, such as books of travels in the sudan, an arabic dictionary, a kuran in french, a few maps, letters, and a passport. bonomi had to explain these various articles to the dervishes, who were not a little surprised about the maps of the sudan, and more especially that of kordofan. it is true there was nothing found in pain's baggage of a suspicious nature; still, the dervishes did not trust him; and he was kept under a very strict guard; we were not permitted to visit him. the next day pain complained of the bad food he was given; but the dervishes gave him wholesome instruction: they told him that the true adherents of the mahdi were dead to the things of this world. poor pain's mind must have been sadly disabused by this reception. the dervishes were full of curiosity about this strange frenchman's doings and intentions, and kept worrying us to know why he should have come; but it was also a mystery to us; and when they asked him, he always gave the same answer--"the whole of the european nations, more especially france, and with the one exception of england, entirely sympathised with the mahdi." he was asked if the senussi had risen against the unbelievers in egypt; but he replied that the senussi feared the english. when asked what the english were doing, he replied that they were building forts at assuan; whereupon ali bakhit observed--"may god destroy their forts." but, question as they would, pain's arrival and his reasons for coming still remained a mystery to them. he was therefore sent, in charge of a large escort, to mahmud at rahad; mahmud received him well, gave him a horse and a female slave, and sent him on to the mahdi, who was then on his march to omdurman. on the th of august pain arrived at aigella, where one of our el obeid mission brothers was staying; the latter at once inquired of pain what he was going to do. on this occasion, it appears, he spoke more openly; he asked if the brother understood french; but the latter replied that he could not speak it, though he understood it. then pain proceeded to say that he was correspondent of a newspaper, and came to see the mahdi and his empire, about which he intended to write full accounts to his paper. this brother endeavoured to explain to him the difficulties he would be sure to meet with, and on what dangerous ground he was treading, adding that it was most unlikely he would ever return; but pain replied that if he succeeded in his undertaking, he would receive an immense reward; and that hitherto the dervishes had not treated him badly; moreover, he was full of energy, and would not give up hope of escape in the future. pain also explained to the brother the difficulties with which the english expedition would be sure to meet, and how he believed khartum would certainly be lost. pain caught up the mahdi at the village of busata. various were the surmises of those in camp regarding his intentions. slatin, klootz, and the other europeans were especially perplexed. olivier pain had imagined that the immense services which he would be able to render the mahdi would cause the latter to receive him with open arms; but the poor man was sadly deluded. he was presented to the mahdi, who greeted him coldly, and asked him his reasons for coming. pain replied--"to acknowledge you as mahdi, and to lay before you the submission of the french nation." the mahdi gave an ironic smile, as much as to say he did not believe a word pain was saying; and then he ordered abu anga to take charge of him, guard him most carefully, and permit no one to see him. during the march to shatt, klootz managed to approach pain, and began talking to him; but for this disobedience he was at once seized and put in chains. on slatin's representations, however, to the khalifa abdullah, he was released. at shatt, pain began to suffer from dysentery and fever, brought on by over-fatigue and bad water. the mahdi permitted slatin to visit him; and pain's wretched condition so disturbed slatin that he begged the mahdi to give him a little money, with which he could buy some better food, which it was absolutely necessary pain should have. but his disease became worse; and it was with the greatest difficulty he could continue his march to om sadik. here his condition became hopeless; he explained that he could go on no longer, and begged for some medicine. the custom in the sudan is to drink melted butter; and after pain had taken a little, he was placed on a camel; but it had scarcely gone a few steps, when he was seized with a fainting fit, and fell off. as he lay unconscious on the ground, and was deathly pale, his guards believed that he must be dead; so they dug a rough grave, in which poor pain was laid, covered him over with sand, and then hurried on. it is quite possible the unfortunate man was not dead. they marked his grave by planting his stick in the sand, and tying his sandals to it. this event occurred on the th of november, . early in september, lupton bey, mudir of bahr el ghazal arrived at el obeid; he had been permitted to retain his property, and he was most kind to us; indeed, i have no words to express our gratitude to him for his unvarying generosity to us. he told us a great deal about his own fights, and related how, after the destruction of general hicks, the mahdi had despatched the two slave-dealer brothers karamallah and kirkesawi from dongola to the bahr el ghazal. karamallah had summoned lupton bey to surrender; but lupton, as his letters to emin pasha show, determined to fight; his subordinate officers, however, almost all deserted him, and joined the mahdiists, and the few who remained loyal eventually refused to fight. indeed, i have seen the actual document they drew up and signed to that effect. lupton, who at that time was thoroughly exhausted by his constant warfare against the dinkas, had therefore no alternative but to submit, which he did on the th of april, . a few days later lupton, with his kavass and clerk, were sent as prisoners to el obeid, _viâ_ shakka. his arrival was a welcome addition to our little circle, and it was a very great comfort to us to have the society of such a genuine and kind friend as lupton in these times of trial. he remained with us for about a month; at that time we had daily information about the movements of the english expedition, and we now hoped that the time for our deliverance was approaching. many of the mahdiists themselves were getting tired of the new _régime_, which gave neither rest nor security of property to anyone. it was through these malcontents that we obtained news which gave us food for argument and speculation during the long and weary days of our captivity. this life of a slave was terribly obnoxious to poor lupton, who frequently gave way to bursts of indignation, and in one of these sherif mahmud arrested him, and in the first week of october he despatched him under escort to the mahdi. on his arrival at omdurman he was put in chains, where he remained for ten months, as he had attempted to escape to khartum. during this period of captivity, lupton underwent terrible sufferings, which i could not possibly describe. shortly after lupton left us, we received a letter from slatin, saying that gordon intended holding out until the english arrived, at the same time he urged us to try and obtain leave to come to omdurman; but this was impossible. another friend also told us that he hoped shortly to be able to effect our release; but in his letter he wrote in such a manner that we alone were able to grasp his meaning, for he feared that what he had written might fall into the hands of the dervishes. our anxiety can readily be understood, for we felt certain that if the english were victorious, we should be killed in revenge. sherif mahmud had already received orders from the mahdi to encamp outside the town, and be prepared for any eventuality. so our days passed in a whirl of hopes and fears, and death would have been welcome. but now a new disaster occurred; the circumstantial account of the death of colonel stewart and his party, and the fact that the state of khartum was rapidly becoming desperate, made us full of doubt as to gordon's fate. the fall of omdurman further confirmed our fears, and we trembled to think that khartum would fall before the english arrived. the prolonged resistance of the town, and the knowledge that the english were almost there, caused no small alarm amongst the people in el obeid; when, therefore, sherif mahmud ordered a salute of one hundred guns to be fired to announce a great victory, the reaction was tremendous. the news of the fall of khartum and of the english victory at abu klea reached el obeid the same day. mahmud held a great review, and the mahdiists were wild with joy. thus the last bulwark of egyptian authority in the sudan had disappeared; the english turned back and left the sudan to its fate. the mahdi rested for a time on his laurels, and occupied himself with bringing into subjection the few who still resisted. sherif mahmud now determined to make himself famous for his bravery, and resolved to conquer the whole of nuba, and convert the inhabitants. as a first step, he proceeded with a force of two thousand men straight to delen; these good people had been left unmolested since mek omar had taken his departure, and had gone back to their peaceful ways and former mode of life, which consisted largely of breeding swine, planting tobacco, and drinking marissa to their heart's content. the baggaras, who lived in nuba, and of whom many had been unwillingly forced to follow the mahdi, were getting somewhat tired of the new faith. khojur kakum was just in the same position as before, and had gained considerably in reputation, as he had foretold correctly how the mahdi would conduct himself. mahmud duly arrived at delen, and encamped at the foot of the hills. on mahmud's departure, we thought the time had at length arrived when we might attempt to escape, for long ago we had projected a plan to get the kababish to assist us. formerly this tribe did much of the carrying trade between dongola and el obeid, and they had already proved that they were loyal to the government. it was said that when the english came to dongola, this tribe was bringing thousands of camels laden with corn from dar hamer; but when mahmud heard of it, he sent after them, and captured two thousand five hundred loads, so from that time no kababish ever came to el obeid. this, therefore, greatly interfered with our plans; besides, we had no money either to buy camels or pay the guides, so i reverted to my old idea, which i had formulated at rahad, to escape to jebel dobab and live with the brave nubas. i was thinking over this plan, and casting up in my mind the chances of success, when, on the th of june, , a coptic friend of ours called sideham arrived, and handed father bonomi a small note, saying at the same time that a man had come to take him back to dongola, and that he would meet him in the market next day. bonomi and i then retired to a place where we knew no one would see us, and there in fear and trembling we tore open the letter; then bonomi, in the deepest agitation, read as follows:-- "dear friend, i am sending this man so that you may escape with him. trust him--he is honest. monsignor sogaro awaits you in cairo with outstretched arms. your fellow-countryman, alois santoni." for some moments we were so excited we could scarcely speak; but my first thought was, "why is bonomi only sent for?" and the feeling that flight was debarred from me, filled me with the most utter dejection. it was to be my sad fate to see my companion in adversity start without me; then a ray of hope flashed across my mind, possibly the man might be the bearer of a verbal message. it was the very moment for flight; there were very few dervishes in el obeid. oh, the terrible length of that day and night! how slowly the hours went by! the next morning bonomi went alone to the place of rendezvous. i thought if i went with him it might create suspicion; but at the same time i begged him to urge the man to take me with him as well. bonomi met the man, and it required only a very few moments to come to an arrangement. how i longed for him to return and know the result. at length he came, looking very pleased; but the man, he said, had definitely declined to take me with him; however, he promised that if he succeeded in conducting bonomi safely, he would return for me in fifteen days. i grieved terribly at the news that my flight must be deferred; but, on the other hand, i rejoiced that one of us should be fortunate enough to escape from this terrible bondage. the man told father bonomi not to trouble about anything, but merely to meet him on mount korbatsh, where he would find him with the camels. on the afternoon of the th of june, bonomi prepared himself for flight, taking a large knife with him. we left our huts, and proceeded to the rendezvous; our hearts were too full to speak. at last i left him; and pressing him to my heart, bade him farewell, saying--"do not forget your poor companion in adversity, who is left behind." [illustration: "many a time did i turn around to look back, until bonomi disappeared from view in the wood."] many a time did i turn round to look back, until bonomi disappeared from view in the wood. it was just sunset, and a lovely evening, which made even that dull plain look beautiful. wild, anxious thoughts kept careering through my brain, as i walked back to my wretched and solitary home. would bonomi succeed, and what would happen to me? for i knew that the dervishes must conclude that i knew about bonomi's flight. so immersed was i in these thoughts that i kept on losing my way, and did not get back till late. my delay had already caused some suspicion; but i found a ready excuse. i said that i had been searching for corn; for at that time there was famine; and nothing was to be had in the market. my excuse was accepted, and fortunately they did not think of asking for bonomi. i now threw myself down on my hard bed; but my weary eyes found no sleep. i kept revolving in my mind all that had occurred; but at length i determined to pluck up courage and put my trust in god; and then my thoughts turned to more practical considerations. how should i explain bonomi's absence to the emir without saying anything which would implicate myself? it was a hot, sultry night, but a refreshing shower fell just then; and in the midst of the patter of the rain-drops, i thought i heard bonomi's voice in the hut. what could it be? had he returned? a thousand wild thoughts crowded into my mind; but i did not dare make a noise, though it was all i could do to control my curiosity. i rose very early the next morning, and searched about the hut; but found no one. it was at any rate quite certain bonomi had gone; but yet i felt sure he must have come back during the night. it was not until six long years afterwards, when i returned to cairo, that i solved the mystery; and then he himself told me how, after parting from me, he had lost his way, and could not find the guide or camels; after vainly wandering about, he had returned to the hut, where the copt who had given him the note found him, and conducted him to the arab with whom he had escaped. i must here explain why it was the messenger had only been commissioned to rescue father bonomi; and this i did not learn till after my own escape. news had reached cairo that i was in omdurman, and that bonomi had been left alone in el obeid; and therefore arrangements had been made for his rescue only.[h] meanwhile, i kept bonomi's escape concealed; and it was not until the fourth day after he had left, and when i was assured of his safety, that i informed the emin beit el mal[i] that he had gone to khartum to fetch some medicine. i believe this man thoroughly knew that he had escaped; but he did not show the slightest suspicion, and ordered us to go to khartum as well; and we were placed under close surveillance. he also wrote to sherif mahmud at delen, and to khartum; a few days later orders came from mahmud that we were to be imprisoned in the zariba of the beit el mal. that evening, soldiers came and dragged us and our slender property to the zariba; and while waiting till huts should be made for us, we were housed with slaves suffering from small-pox. this disease was then very prevalent in el obeid, and horrible sights continually met our eyes. these unfortunate sufferers had no one to help them, and they were left to die, either of the disease, or of hunger; they lay about under the trees in the market-place, shunned by every one; often, when still living, they were dragged off by men, who tied ropes round their bodies, and pulled them along the ground till they were beyond the outskirts of the town; and there they were left to be devoured by the hyenas. a dreadful famine prevailed, and the population was decimated by hunger; ten to twelve pounds of corn were sold for a dollar, and the man was fortunate who could buy it at this price. in the market, fights were frequent; meat, however, was not so expensive, and we lived for days on meat only, without any bread. the poor people used to dig about the streets and in the houses for gum, which they knew had been concealed during the siege; and this unwholesome food frequently caused their death. the air in the zariba was poisoned by the number of people suffering from small-pox; but curiously enough, the disease never seemed to touch the white people. my new abode turned out to be not so bad as i expected. i became friends with some of the soldiers who used to be in the government service, and sympathised with them in their wretched state; these poor men often tried to do me any little service they could. it was about this time that sultan dud benga, flying from zogal, arrived, on his way to give himself up to the mahdi in omdurman, and also a certain sherif, who set himself up to be the fourth khalifa--osman. the latter, however, on his arrival in omdurman, was thrown into chains, and his wives, horses, and slaves confiscated. i planted a few water-melons round my hut, which grew well; and i used to amuse myself by watching the movements of the chameleons which disported themselves underneath the leaves; but one day a fire broke out, which destroyed my hut, water-melons, chameleons, and all; and so this little dissipation was denied me. however, i built a new hut in a few days. almost a month had now passed since bonomi's departure, and i began to look about anxiously for the return of the arab who was to help me to escape. during the night i had cautiously loosened the zariba hedge, so that i could easily get out, when the time came; but day by day passed, and i began to lose hope. i did hear a rumour once that a man had come to help us to escape, but that on hearing we were locked up in the zariba, he had gone away. this was very probably true; for the arabs are excessively timid; and we were as universally shunned by all as if we were infested with a plague; if anyone dared to speak to us, he was almost sure to be arrested and locked up. thus we dragged out a miserable existence, devoid of hope, shunned by all, and suffering much from continual sickness. one event, however, unexpectedly occurred, which we thought would completely alter the state of affairs, and would produce a revolution, in which we again thought we saw some chance of escape. early in july , the news of the mahdi's death arrived. at first it was not credited, and the leading people thought it better to keep it a strict secret, but their dismal countenances belied them. it was a terrible blow to the dervishes, and they themselves believed that disturbances would undoubtedly take place, for the number of malcontents was by no means small. the truth, however, soon came out, and the immediate effect on the ignorant masses was the realization that they had been deceived, and that the mahdi was no mahdi at all. hitherto mahdiism had been thoroughly admitted, and it was their belief in the mahdi's divine mission which had given birth to the fanaticism which had made them so bold and fearless--the belief that to die in battle as martyrs assured them paradise with its myriads of lovely houris, its lovely gardens, laden with milk and honey, fruits and flowers. all this was implicitly believed. what wonder then that they should throw themselves into the very thickest of the fight in the sure and certain hope that to die in the mahdi's cause ensured eternal delights and pleasures! now all these glorious visions had collapsed like a house of cards, and in the future mahdiism to live would have to be enforced. from this time forth there was no voluntary seeking to obey, and it was clear that the new religion was on the wane. the family and adherents of the mahdi were at variance with the followers of khalifa abdullah, the latter by his immense energy had made himself master of the situation. but the glow and fervour of religious enthusiasm was gone. the blow of the mahdi's death almost killed sherif mahmud; many of his chiefs and emirs muttered: "see how the mahdi has deceived us. had he been the real mahdi he would not have died in omdurman. alas! what thousands of human lives have been sacrificed to this false mahdi's caprice." mahmud was at a loss to know what to say and contented himself with murmuring: "even if the mahdi be dead, his religion did not die with him; let us therefore fight in the cause of religion." nevertheless all obedience and discipline did not disappear, for these men had still their own interests to look after: but it was unfortunate there was no one to place himself at the head of the malcontents and openly declare that the mahdi was no mahdi. mahmud now returned without delay to el obeid, and immediately on his arrival he ordered the criers to announce that he required some account of father bonomi's escape. he was furious at his flight; he sent for me and asked where he had gone; i simply replied, that he had disappeared one night and that the next morning i could find no trace of him in the hut. if mahmud had not been so upset by the mahdi's death, i believe i should have had to pay dearly for his flight. as it was he believed that bonomi would be seized by the dervishes in dongola, and at the same time he sent out spies to try and discover who had assisted him to escape. suspicion fell on mohammed suleiman, who had been our old captain at delen and who was now the kadi's clerk; he was threatened with a flogging, which he would certainly have received had not his master begged him off. mahmud brought with him from delen the unfortunate khojur kakum; this poor man was thrown into chains soon after his arrival, and his hut and the chair which he used for his religious ceremonies were burnt. the nubas were solemnly abjured to desist from their superstitious beliefs, and mahmud made a small straw mosque for them in which they were obliged to say prayers; but the nubas set fire to it, and after mahmud's departure they named their pigs after the mahdi's important emirs. when kakum was on his way to el obeid, he had had a bad fall from a bullock, which had injured him internally and made it almost impossible for him to move: he was put into our zariba, and soon after he came i went to see him and found him in a state of profound dejection. he was very pleased to see me, and the tears rolled down his black cheeks; he was so affected he could barely speak, and lost all control over himself. his two wives were sitting near him--one of them, mea, was a thoroughly good woman, and many a happy hour did i spend playing with her little child of six years old. kakum gave me coffee, and we talked over the old days at the mission, then i left him to rest. that same night i was suddenly summoned by mea, who said that kakum was seriously ill; i hastened to the hut and found him almost unconscious, and in a few hours he was dead. he was a thoroughly good, sensible man, and had been a faithful friend to the mission and to the government. he died in july , and i think he must then have been about fifty-five years of age. his second wife married the khojur of sobei, who had also been dragged to el obeid by mahmud; but mea did not marry again. she devoted herself to her little child. the boy delighted in being with me, and said he always wanted to stay with the christians; but a month later mea and her child were allowed to return to delen. i gave the boy a little shirt, and in return mea promised to send me some tobacco; and, true to her word, a messenger arrived soon afterwards with that luxury, in return for which i sent her some glass beads. during his stay at delen, mahmud had captured shirra, one of the renegade baggara chiefs, and his two sons. this man had formerly been our sworn enemy, and had declared that he would kill every one of us christians; but when this great chief and his sons came into the zariba they greeted me like lambs, and when, in fun, i recalled to them their former oaths, they admitted that they had been completely deceived, and now that they had not words sufficient to praise the christians or to curse the mahdi. it was no little satisfaction to me to find such an entire change of mind and purpose in one who had been our bitterest foe. thus was justice tardily meted out to us. meanwhile khalifa abdullah had sent an order from omdurman to mahmud, telling him to set out forthwith for omdurman to swear the bea'a (or oath of allegiance) to the mahdi's successor. mahmud therefore, in august , left el obeid with a large number of followers. footnotes: [h] father bonomi arrived safely in dongola, and mr. santoni, who is now director of posts at assiut, was rewarded by his holiness pope leo xiii. with the order of gregory the great, in recognition of the humane service he had rendered. [i] _i.e._ the official in charge of the beit el mal or dervish storehouse and treasury. chapter xi. revolt against the dervishes. the black soldiers of the old sudan army--they revolt against the dervishes in el obeid--and march off to dar nuba--the emir mahmud pursues and is slain--ohrwalder quits el obeid for omdurman--zogal and abu anga at bara. the old sudanese soldiers of the egyptian army were perhaps, of all others, the most dissatisfied with mahdiism. these brave blacks who, as they say in the sudan, "had eaten the khedive's bread," were now in a wretched state compared with the once miserable gellabas, who now galloped about proudly on horseback, while in former years they had scarcely a donkey to their name. several of these soldiers had been to egypt, some had been servants to europeans, and most of them had been in the various fights which had previously taken place in the sudan. sherif mahmud, it is true, treated them with some deference, and gave them corn when he refused to give it to the gellabas who were starving; but in spite of this, their previous condition was infinitely preferable to their life under mahdiist rulers. there were about two hundred of these soldiers in el obeid; shortly afterwards, a number of slaves arrived, and quite recently their numbers had been further increased by the addition of a company sent by zogal. many of these men had fought under munzinger pasha, and under slatin bey, and were distinguished for their bravery; their total number was now three hundred, under the command of an egyptian mowallid,[j] named abdullah. these men used to complain of being always placed in the forefront of the battle; and they were further irritated by the arrogant way in which they were treated by the danagla and their unbearable emir wad el hashmi, who used to call them "abd" (_i.e._ slave); they therefore decided to revolt against this tyrannical rule, and in this their emir supported them. it was agreed that they should await the great dahiyeh festival, and when they were all out on parade, and the dervishes were going through their prayers, they would suddenly separate themselves and, trusting to their good rifles, would be able to annihilate their hated enemies; but the thought that a number of innocent people would be thus sacrificed, decided them to await some other more favourable opportunity. it was often a matter of surprise to me how these blacks managed to keep their secret, which even all their women knew. a clever young mukuddum lived near my hut, and did me many a kindness; he often used to bring me some meat to eat, as the soldiers who looked after the sheep and goats taken from the arabs frequently killed some for their own food and then reported that they had died. at this time i suffered a great deal from fever, i could not remain in my close and small hut, and used to lie wide awake and tossing about on my hard bed outside. i often saw the mukuddum in secret conversation with some of his men, and then they would look at their arms to see they were all right; this made me feel certain that some plot was brewing. amongst the soldiers i had also another good friend, hajji selim, who was at all times ready to render me any little service, in return for which i used to give him a little coffee or some tobacco. hajji selim had a curious story. he was born in bornu, and when young had joined his father, who was going with a caravan to mecca. whilst journeying through the sahara, they came to a district in which two tribes were at war; he joined one of them, but was taken prisoner by the other, sold as a slave, and taken to tunis; from here, he was brought to constantinople, where he became the playfellow of his master's son, and in this way learnt the turkish language. soon afterwards his master was sent to egypt as a pasha, and he came with him, from thence they went on a pilgrimage to mecca, hence his title of hajji. on their return to cairo, the master died, his property was confiscated, and selim was taken into the army. he was sent to sawakin, then he served under munzinger pasha at massawa, and was with him at the time of his murder; from here he was sent to darfur, then to kordofan, and eventually to delen, where he was taken prisoner with mohammed suleiman, and thus became attached to the mahdiists. this unfortunate man, though comparatively young, had become aged by constant travelling, he was homeless, and had neither wife nor child; he wore an old coat which had been given to him by some of hicks pasha's soldiers, it was riddled with bullet-holes, covered with patches of blood, and very dirty; however, that did not much matter to him, as he had no soap to wash it; he always wore the hood of his coat over his head, which further added to his curious appearance. he made his coat into a species of dervish uniform by patching up the holes with the pieces of an old tarbush; but withal he was a thoroughly honest man, and i liked him. i also knew i could rely on him to carry out a secret mission, and therefore, after bonomi had fled, i had made over to him some money and two volumes of the 'popular educator,' which lupton bey had given me, and which i looked upon as a priceless treasure. i did this because i was afraid that sherif mahmud would confiscate my little all; but when all fear was over, the honest man brought back everything just as i had given it to him. at that time i had no suitable place in my hut to hide them, so i asked him to keep them a few days longer; but, alas! my books were to become food for the flames, which soon afterwards devoured the camp, and this was an irreparable loss. i tried to find but from hajji selim what plot was brewing; but all my inquiries were fruitless. he would not breathe a word, and from that time i saw no more of him, for he was afraid that my importunity might make him divulge the secret. i knew perfectly well that he must have been one of the conspirators, and as i never saw him again, i presume he must have been killed. the above little incident is merely mentioned to show how zealously the soldiers kept their secret; but all the same, the people in el obeid had a notion that something was going to happen, and one day an order was suddenly given that a hundred soldiers were to prepare to proceed to dar hamer. in this way they thought to split up the party, and then disarm them; but the men guessed that this was the intention, and therefore decided to execute their plan the following day. that night i was lying outside as usual; the sky was particularly brilliant, and i was watching the myriads of shooting stars which, leaving bright trails behind them, burst suddenly like rockets, and illumined the night till it became for an instant almost as light as day. every one wondered at this curious phenomenon, and foretold that it meant mischief of some sort, and, curiously, there was mischief enough in the air that night. the next day, at about noon, i was startled by the sound of firing, and bullets were suddenly flying over my head. in my alarm i had rushed out of the hut, and saw that the firing was from the direction of the powder-magazine. to my intense surprise, i did not see a solitary soldier in the zariba; even their wives had gone, and had taken their household goods away with them. i shouted and cried out, but no one answered; a few women passed by, but they were too occupied to answer me; they, too, soon disappeared, and the whole place, which but a few moments before had been a babel of din and noise, became silent as the grave. in the distance i could hear continuous firing, and occasionally i caught sight of women and children running away in a northerly direction. i now thought it time to quit the zariba myself. i seized a bayonet, and tried to push aside the thorns, but they were so firmly fixed in the ground, that i could not move them. i then made for the gate, and here there was not a soul to be seen; even the slaves in chains had disappeared. bullets were now flying in all directions. i went towards the emir abdullah's house, and found him standing by his door in a state of great agitation, with only two soldiers. in reply to my question as to what was the matter, he answered in a surly tone: "these beit el mal slaves have destroyed everything." these words were scarcely out of his mouth, when fifty dervishes with drawn swords suddenly rushed up, and with frightful yells dragged him and his men off to the courtyard of the mudirieh. i followed them. here an enormous crowd of dervishes was collected, and, wild with rage, they would have torn abdullah to pieces had not wad el hashmi stopped them. the dervishes now accused abdullah of having incited the soldiers; but he protested that he knew nothing of the affair, and in proof of his statement urged that he had not quitted his house; but it was useless. the air resounded with cries of "cut off his head!" and he was obliged to kneel down. with one blow his head rolled on the sand; both the soldiers were also beheaded, and their bodies thrown down near the mosque, so that everyone might see them. i now learnt that the soldiers had taken possession of the powder magazine, which consisted of a square yard, with small towers at the corners; it had been utilized as a magazine in government days. all arms and ammunition were stored here, and a number of egyptians were employed moulding bullets and filling cartridges; there were also quantities of caps, and all the necessary implements. the soldiers had broken into this place, killed the guards, made loopholes, and prepared for defence; they had burnt down most of the houses in the town, and forced all they met to join them. two egyptians who refused to do so were at once killed. the dervishes had rushed, in a body, to attempt to recover the magazine, but had been shot down in numbers; several emirs also fell in this assault, and no one dared to return to recover their bodies. at length, having rallied from their first failure, they again collected and advanced--this time with more order--to the attack; but the soldiers, who had learnt of their emir abdullah's death, fought with desperate courage, and again drove them back, with heavy loss. the dervishes now assembled beside the great gate of the mudirieh, and consulted what was best to be done; they were thoroughly alarmed, and no wonder; for everyone who came within range of the fort was almost certainly shot down. amongst these was fiki isa, of the shanabla, who was struck in the neck by a bullet, and fell dead at once. naturally, i fled as soon as possible from this dangerous proximity, and went to the house of a clerk, whose walls i knew would give me protection. the firing now became faster, and the soldiers sounded the trumpet for the attack on the mudirieh, intending to capture the guns which stood outside the gate; but the dervishes had withdrawn them and closed it, so the troops were forced to retire; their ranks had been largely increased by a number of male and female slaves, who, on hearing of the mutiny, had at once left their masters. fighting lasted till nightfall; and at length, under cover of darkness, i made my way back to the zariba, to see what had become of my companions in adversity. i found it empty and deserted; even the cattle had escaped somehow; and only two miserable slaves, suffering from ferentit (guinea-worm), and who were unable to move, remained behind. i was feverish and restless; so returned again to the mudirieh, to see what was going forward there. i found a crowd of dervishes, exasperated at the idea of having been defeated by the "slave-soldiers," as they called them; more of their emirs had been killed; and the chief, wad hashmi, had been mortally wounded, and died the following day. when the dervishes caught sight of me (hitherto i had passed unnoticed), they ordered me back to the zariba, threatening to kill me if i again left it; i suppose they did this because they thought i might join the mutineers. it was believed that the soldiers would attack and capture the town the next day. how i wish they had had a good leader! my companions and i now found ourselves in the beit el mal again, under the guard of four soldiers. worn out with excitement, i threw myself down on my angarib; the success of the mutineers again revived in my breast hopes of release; and with this pleasing thought, i dropped off into a sound slumber. i was suddenly roused up by one of the guard prodding me with the butt end of his rifle, and saying--"when everyone is in terror of his life, how can you sleep?" so i reluctantly had to get up, and began chatting to the guard, as i feared any display of satisfaction on my part would probably call down vengeance from them. we talked over the events of the day; and i soon realised that the dervishes were, in truth, greatly alarmed. the powder magazine was not far from the beit el mal, so we could overhear a great deal of what was going on there; and one would have imagined that they were engaged in marriage festivities rather than in bloody warfare. the whole night through they kept up singing; the women were dancing, and the men drinking marissa: every now and then the trumpets were sounded, which seemed to add to the women's delight; they were all laughing over the mahdi's doings, heaping insults on him and his religion; and still further exasperating the dervishes by shouting out to them to come and join them in a drinking bout. but whilst these good blacks were enjoying themselves in the magazine, the dervishes had fortified the beit el mal, and placed bodies of troops, with their flags, in different parts. occasionally, the blacks fired a volley into them, which made them disperse, leaving their flag behind them. everyone was in a state of most anxious expectancy for the next day; it was looked upon as certain that a fight would take place between the dervishes and the soldiers, which would finally decide matters; and that night there was little sleep for anyone. early the next morning the soldiers played the khedivial salute, which stirred us to the quick; and by the time the sun had risen, firing had recommenced, and was continued up till nine o'clock. the soldiers made a few raids on camels and donkeys, but did not attempt to attack the dervishes; and it was not at all clear what they intended to do. the dervish emir, being certain that the mutineers were quite demoralized, sent their imam (priest) to tell them that if they wished to surrender, they would receive pardon; this exasperated the blacks beyond measure; the imam was told not to talk nonsense; and was then deliberately dragged out about fifty paces from the fort, pierced through and through with his own spears, and his body thrown out in the direction of the mudirieh, whilst the soldiers shouted out--"this is the head in return for the head of our emir abdullah." they continued to make desultory sorties during the day, and captured a quantity of animals. in the afternoon they left the powder magazine; the band playing, women and children marching in front; then came the ammunition, surrounded by armed men, and lastly, the soldiers, marching in good order, and disposed in such a manner as to resist any sudden assault. the dervishes, however, determined to attack, and, marshalling their banners, they made for the powder magazine, which they found quite deserted; the soldiers had thrown into the wells all the powder they could not carry. there were only five fresh graves in the magazine, which showed that the soldiers had lost only five men, whilst the dervishes had lost about five hundred. meanwhile, the blacks were marching gaily towards melbeis; but the dervishes, more furious than ever after their discoveries in the magazine, set off in hot pursuit; and when they had got within a short distance of their enemy, they were received by a well-directed volley, which killed some fifty of them; the remainder fled in disorder to el obeid. the total number of the blacks, including the slaves who had joined them, did not exceed one thousand men, whilst the dervishes more than trebled that number. had they only had a competent commander, there is no doubt they could easily have captured el obeid. they continued their march, unopposed, to nuba, and arrived first of all at delen, where they established themselves, and selected beshir, an old soldier of slatin bey's, to be their mudir. mahdiism was entirely renounced, and the khedive's government proclaimed. anyone who swore by the mahdi's name received eighty lashes; the regular form of swearing was--"hakk ras effendina" ("by the khedive's head!") strict discipline was enforced. any one found selling arms or ammunition to the nubas was punished with death, and the sentence was carried out by shooting. shortly afterwards, they quitted delen and marched to jebel naïma, the inhabitants of which place are known as the bravest of the nubas; but here they still seemed to think themselves too close to their hated enemies, and therefore moved on to golfan, where they took up a position in an inaccessible mountain, were recognized by their neighbours as the rulers of the country, and were supplied by them with quantities of cattle and sesame. in the meantime sherif mahmud, in omdurman, had been fully informed of all that had occurred. he fell into a terrible passion, accused all his emirs of cowardice, and proceeded forthwith to el obeid. he would not even enter his house, but encamped outside the town. khalifa abdullah had ordered him to leave the mutineers alone, and to proceed, _viâ_ the es safiyeh wells, to dongola; but mahmud entirely disregarded this order. he thirsted for vengeance against these rebels, and determined to subdue them. added to this, he had also conceived the idea of usurping khalifa abdullah's authority. his object, therefore, was to increase his power by regaining the co-operation of the soldiers, and so proud and self-confident was he, that he believed they would never attempt to fight against him. here, underneath the great adansonia tree where the mahdi had stayed so long, he pitched his camp and made preparations for his advance on nuba. he called for volunteers, saying that he did not wish to force anyone to go to war, and at the same time he endeavoured to encourage the people by telling them that the mahdi had appeared to him in a dream, and had told him to advance and attack the rebels, promising him certain victory. in spite of this summons, very few volunteered, and getting thoroughly annoyed, he now threatened with death anyone who refused to join him. thus did mahmud realise that the spirit of mahdiism had almost died out, and that in future force would be required to carry out its behests. he rapidly advanced with a force of , men, most of them armed with remingtons. on his way he was joined by a number of arabs, which raised his force to some , men. on arrival at naïma he found that the mutineers had moved on; he therefore advanced to golfan, and sent in a letter to the effect that if they surrendered he would give them a free pardon. but the soldiers had had previous experience of mahdieh promises, and received the messengers with volleys, which soon made them turn back. mahmud determined, therefore, to invest his former adherents, and, putting himself at the head of his troops, he advanced towards the mountain; but the soldiers, concealed behind rocks, sent volley after volley into the dervish ranks. mahmud received a bullet in his side, but, nothing daunted, he continued to advance, carrying his own flag, until another bullet, hitting him full on the forehead, killed him. already over a hundred dervishes had fallen, and the remainder, hearing that mahmud was dead, turned tail and fled in disorder towards el obeid. the soldiers did not pursue, but took up mahmud's body and gave him an honourable burial befitting the brave man he was. in his death mahdieh lost perhaps the boldest of its adherents, and certainly the bravest of the mahdi's family. and though he had latterly given himself up to a life of pleasure and debauchery, as all the rest had done, still he did not fear exposing himself to every sort of danger. mahmud fell in the month of november , and khalifa abdullah was by no means displeased to be rid of a rival whose prowess and popularity he greatly feared and envied. in place of sherif mahmud, abdullah despatched his brother bakhit to kordofan; but he was a very different class of man, and was nicknamed "tor" ("the bullock"). soon afterwards bakhit received orders to leave all his men at el obeid and to return to omdurman. he was succeeded by the emir wad el hashmi, who was followed by osman wad adam (nicknamed "ganu"), the mahdi's nephew. preparations were now made to transport all mahmud's people to omdurman, and in order to convey so many thousand people, camels were forcibly seized. we also were released, and permitted to go to omdurman. i had passed too many miserable years in kordofan not to rejoice at the change: for a time i had a faint hope that someone might be sent by father bonomi to assist me to escape, but now it seemed useless to hope for this any longer, whereas, once at omdurman, i might manage to escape by myself. our departure was delayed for a month. el obeid had gradually become a dirty arab village; except meat and dokhn, there was absolutely nothing to be got in the market. i suffered much from dysentery. there were no medicines to be had, so i had to trust to the recuperative powers of nature, assisted by a little rice which was grown in the marshes about birket. i had not a civilized soul with whom to associate. the nubas of jebel dair did their utmost to harass el obeid; they were always hovering about in the outskirts, ready to pounce down on any cattle and slaves they saw. it would have been madness to go an hour's distance from the town without an escort. the dervishes frequently made attempts to clear the neighbourhood of these brigands, but i observed that they always returned considerably fewer in number, and i secretly rejoiced at their inability to cope with these brave nubas. taking everything into consideration, i was not sorry to say good-bye to this dreary and inhospitable town. we were given four camels, whose owners acted as the drivers. it was agreed that on arrival in omdurman we should pay them at the rate of seven dollars a camel. on the th of march, , we left el obeid. what a flood of recollections welled up in my mind as we marched for the last time through the desolate ruins of the city! how strange had been the vicissitudes of this once flourishing place during the last few years! from a thriving and peaceful township it had been transformed into the theatre of constant warfare and bloodshed. it had then been the scene of the mahdi's debaucheries, when he rested after his victories, and now it had dwindled down into a wretched arab village. our road took us past the site of the el obeid mission-house, of which not a trace remained. in its place was the market, and a heap of white bones indicated the locality of the cook's shop. we halted that evening at korbatsh; the next day we started very early; and after a two days' march, arrived at bara. this beautiful little town is situated in a woody depression of the great kordofan plain. in the distance we could see the white ruins through the high acacia trees. formerly the place had been well planted with date-palms; but during the siege the inhabitants had cut them down, and lived upon the crushed core. in the government days bara had been a sort of sanatorium for el obeid, where the richer inhabitants used to spend the summer; they had made lovely gardens, full of date-trees, lemon-plants, banana-trees, and vines, while the vegetables used to be sold in el obeid. the soil is exceptionally fertile, and there is an abundance of water obtainable at only six feet below the surface. but now the place was completely destroyed and neglected; and wild bushes and thorns grew apace amidst the ruins. as we approached bara, we heard the thunder of guns, and were told that it was a salute announcing the arrival of zogal, the governor of darfur, with his troops. it was the nd of april. we halted under a large acacia tree, and took down our angaribs, over which mats were tightly stretched. the arrival of two large parties, one from el obeid and one from darfur, soon changed this dismal graveyard into a noisy camp. zogal had brought with him , infantry, , black soldiers and singers, and , good horses. he had over , dollars in his beit el mal, besides what each of his men possessed--and that was no inconsiderable quantity: for everyone had enriched himself in darfur; and all this wealth was destined to become the khalifa abdullah's property. zogal had organized bands in his army; and the same tunes which had been played in the days of the government, now resounded over the deserted plains of bara. zogal's camp was a scene of pleasure and merry-making. marissa was publicly sold and drunk openly; all idea of being within the mahdi's jurisdiction seemed to have been forgotten. zogal was a liberal man; his principle was "live and let live;" and he thoroughly enjoyed the good things of this life, which the mahdi's revolt had placed within his reach. he was a powerfully built, stout man, of about sixty years of age, with a white beard, which gave him a patriarchal appearance. he was known as the father of many children, and was of an open-hearted and generous disposition. zogal's camp was pitched on the ruins of bara; rich carpets were spread over the sand, and there he sat, ready to see anybody and everybody at any time of the day; abundance of food was always ready for all his guests. the only thing for which zogal should be blamed was his shooting to death twenty-five sanjaks and turks, who had surrendered with slatin, on the fall of darfur. these sanjaks had sworn to revolt against mahdiism, but had been betrayed. with this exception, he had conducted his rule with great moderation; he did all he possibly could to further trade; and when in bara i saw some french calico, which had come from tunis, _viâ_ wadai, to darfur. zogal's bazingers made a great impression on me; they were a wild and turbulent lot, capable of great marching power, and able to support long-continued privations. lupton bey often used to tell me of the cannibal propensities of these black warriors. in many instances, their only dress consisted of the leather bandolier, or cartridge case, and a big leather bag, from which a human leg could often be seen protruding; and in almost every bag some human flesh or bones could be found. when i used to go to the market, crowds of these swarthy warriors would collect to gaze on my white skin, which, in truth, the sun had long since tanned to a very brown colour. zogal's nine days' halt in bara soon came to an end. news came that disturbances had occurred in omdurman between khalifas abdullah and sherif; the latter had frequently written to zogal to come to khartum at once, as he was most anxious to have him there. news was brought at the same time that abu anga had arrived at el obeid _viâ_ birket; it was rumoured that abu anga had been sent by abdullah to arrest zogal, for it was reported that zogal and sherif had agreed to combine and wrest the authority from abdullah. zogal was quite strong enough to overturn abdullah; but unfortunately he was no soldier, and abdullah had secretly won over a number of his emirs to his side. abu anga pressed on from el obeid, and, arriving at bara, summoned zogal to surrender. the latter, however, prepared to fight; but most of his bazingers and emirs went over to abu anga's side, and he was soon left with but a few followers, and easily fell into abu anga's hands; he was at once put in chains and handed over to said bey guma, who was at that time commander of the artillery. all his property was confiscated. abu anga did this in revenge, for zogal had done exactly the same to said bey when he took possession of darfur. zogal was now dragged in chains to el obeid, where he was left for a year to think over his changed state. his emin beit el mal, ibrahim ramadan, was also seized on his way to omdurman, and brought back in chains to el obeid, where he was mercilessly flogged to make him disclose the hiding-place of the money; but nothing would induce him to tell. he was subsequently taken to omdurman, where abdullah received him well and gave him a situation in the beit el mal. zogal's arrest was the signal for ill-treating all the khalifa sherif's adherents; these were deprived of all their positions, and were replaced by abdullah's nominees. i had relied considerably on seeing a change for the better if this attempt of sherif and zogal to upset abdullah had succeeded; but it had failed, and we again moved on towards omdurman, still further depressed by the feeling that abdullah was growing more and more powerful. by the time we arrived near omdurman my camel had died; the poor arab wept bitterly for his loss, and i could do nothing towards repaying him. on the evening of the th of april, , we encamped close to the town. a fearful sandstorm was blowing, and we were enveloped in clouds of dust--a fitting advent to the capital of the mahdi's empire! footnotes: [j] the name given to natives of a mixed parentage; _i.e._, generally an egyptian or turkish father and a sudanese mother. chapter xii. ohrwalder's impressions of omdurman. ohrwalder's arrival in omdurman--his first impressions of the dervish capital--khalifa abdullah's intentions to conquer egypt--wad suleiman of the beit el mal--wad adlan succeeds--gordon's clothes, medals, &c.--adlan reorganizes the beit el mal--the slave market, museum, mint, and system of coinage--counterfeit coining--the lithograph press--the khalifa's system of justice. the next morning--the th of april, --we rose covered with dust from head to foot, and by the time we had got under way again, the sun was already high in the heavens, and was unusually hot. this was the worst season of the year. the first place we came to was the mahdi's old camp, which was marked by a line of mud walls. from this position the fort of omdurman had been besieged, and innumerable human and animal bones marked the site of this long-sustained conflict. to our right lay the white nile, flowing between its green banks, beyond it the blue nile could just be seen, and the ruins of khartum were visible behind the thick belt of palm-trees. emerging from the arid deserts of kordofan, the nile with its green banks was a most refreshing sight; on the other hand, the view of khartum in ruins awakened the saddest recollections. of the vast crowd which had beset gordon on every side, some were scattered far and wide, while others had settled down around their new master in omdurman. the little hill on the west bank just opposite to the junction of the two niles was called omdurman, hence the name of the mahdiist capital. previous to the revolt, there had been merely a few huts; but it was always considered a place of importance, as the hills in the vicinity supplied lime and stone in quantities for building works in khartum. in those days, the lime-pits were in omdurman, and the place where the mahdiist capital now stands was a thick and thorny bush--the abode of the batahin robbers. what a change had now taken place! from the old fort at the south end, right up to khor shambat, and even further, the new capital extends, a countless conglomeration of straw huts (tokuls), surrounded by small zaribas; here and there a few mud huts, some of which, larger than the others, denote the residences of the khalifas and principal emirs--they are looked upon as palaces. formerly the mosque consisted merely of a square enclosure, surrounded by a hedge; but this had now been replaced by a wall of sun-dried bricks. in the distance we could see the galvanised-iron mosque where the mahdi used to perform prayers. the mahdi's original camp had been situated some kilometres' distance to the north of the fort, where the plain widens out. on our arrival we at once made inquiries about the market, and sought news of the other europeans. the market was a sort of maze, and arranged with no idea of system. merchants never left their goods there over-night; but always took them to their own houses. a greek had made a bakery, and drove a good trade, as long as people had money to buy. there were such crowds of people that it was almost impossible to make one's way through; there were quantities of provisions for sale, and trade seemed very lively. egyptian merchants brought their goods as far as ed damer, whence they were brought by arab merchants to omdurman. the only tax levied by the khalifa's order was - / per cent. zekka (_i.e._ alms for the poor), and people seemed generally contented and happy. there were quantities of money in the beit el mal, and at that time there was no occasion to oppress the inhabitants. there were numbers of greeks, jews, and syrians, all of whom were doing fairly well in business. i also saw klootz. slatin at that time happened to be absent, he was commanding some troops under the emir yunis at wad el abbas. khalifa abdullah was full of ideas of conquest and pretensions; he used often to announce publicly that the end of the turks' rule in egypt was approaching. he was most anxious to obtain possession of that country, and thought the time had now come. several of the sheikhs and ulemas in cairo and in other parts of egypt had written to him inviting him to take possession of the country where, they assured him, he would be most cordially received. the mahdi's summons and proclamations were sent in all directions. pilgrims arrived from samarkand, bokhara, india, and mecca, to examine mahdieh with their own eyes. all this tended to make abdullah more desirous than ever to conquer egypt. he despatched nejumi and his men to dongola, whilst yunis was instructed to collect all the men he could in the gezireh. sherif mahmud's followers were also sent to dongola; thus did abdullah dispose of the adherents of those emirs whom he knew to be hostile to him. zogal once arrested, abdullah had now little to fear. hitherto he had treated his two brother khalifas, and the ashraf and danagla with the utmost respect; but now he conducted himself in a very different manner, and could not bear to have anyone in the smallest degree associated with him who was of almost equal rank; he therefore did all in his power to weaken the opposition party, and to increase the influence of his own party. the first blow he struck fell on ahmed wad suleiman, emin of the beit el mal. the day that we arrived in omdurman he was put in chains, and his house and the beit el mal were put under guards. wad suleiman had been one of the mahdi's most fanatical adherents, and whenever he passed the mahdi's tomb he used to stretch out his hands and weep like a child--indeed he had every reason to do so, for the mahdi had raised him from a low position to a post of great honour, and the thought of losing this position distressed him greatly. suleiman's wheel of fortune had come round at a good time, when the amount of money in the beit el mal was considerable. the immense quantities of loot taken at el obeid, shikan, khartum, sennar, and berber, had all passed through his hands, and any dervish who was in need of anything always came to him, and in this way he acquired great influence. since the mahdi's death there had been great enmity between suleiman and abdullah, and on the pretext of examining the accounts, abdullah had him arrested, and intended to send him away, while he appointed mohammed osman (zogal's son) in his place. in suleiman's house some , grammes of unstamped gold was found, and it is more than probable that this was but a small portion of what he had previously appropriated. he was therefore thrown into chains, where he remained for a year and more. a month after his arrest, a certain ibrahim wad adlan, of wad medina, on the blue nile, and sometime merchant in el obeid, was appointed emin beit el mal. he had frequently been in cairo, was a pleasant-looking man, and had enlightened ideas. at one time, when a dispute arose between the commercial house of arbib in cairo, and their two partners in el obeid, adlan had been nominated arbitrator by the cairo house. he had for long remained loyal to the government, and had stayed in el obeid until it fell into the hands of the mahdi, who permitted him--as a special favour--to keep , of the , dollars he then had. for a long time adlan had nothing to do; but he was always an influential man, and was continually trying to help those in distress. after the fall of el obeid, and when all the clerks had been exiled to various parts, he never ceased until he obtained permission for their return. a short time before the mahdi had quitted el obeid, he had been employed in the beit el mal, and at rahad, wad suleiman had appointed him his assistant. he was then despatched by the mahdi to berber, to secure the £ , which had been sent to gordon from cairo, and which had been left in the berber treasury, owing to the interruption of communications with khartum. ibrahim brought the money, clothes, medals, decorations, and other valuables belonging to gordon to the mahdi. the clothes were sold, and cut to pieces to repair other garments, the metal of the medals, &c., was melted down, whilst the precious stones were sold, and eventually found their way to cairo. adlan soon gained considerable influence over the khalifa, and had sufficient tact to moderate the inborn tyranny of his master. his desire to continually give assistance when he could, had made him very popular. he soon set to work to reorganize the beit el mal, and began by removing it from its original position to the river bank, thus avoiding the unnecessary transport of articles brought by boats to the stores. here he built an extensive yard of sun-dried bricks, which he divided off into sections for the various departments of the administration. he made a large corn-store, in which a mountain of dhurra was collected--indeed, so high was it, that it could be seen from a considerable distance. this store was placed in charge of his assistant. another yard was built containing a number of rooms, in which the slaves were kept under a guard of soldiers. here the slaves were shackled, twenty or thirty together in one long chain, with iron rings round their necks. any obstreperous slaves were generally shackled with one or two makias or iron rings round their ankles, joined together by a small chain or iron bar, which made walking very difficult. slaves received a little dry dhurra from the beit el mal as food until they were sold. the female slaves generally grind the dhurra, and make a sort of polenta out of it, which is either eaten with water or boiled and eaten as balila. the dhurra ration of a slave is generally so small and so bad that numbers of them die of starvation long before they are fortunate enough to be sold. slaves are sold by auction in the beit el mal, and a written certificate is given to the purchaser, stating in detail the description of the slave, whether male or female, and that the purchase was effected in the beit el mal. before an auction the slaves are generally well rubbed with oil, to improve their appearance. the bulk of the slaves sold are females, as male slaves are generally attached to the army. a special woman is also employed, together with the other officials, to see to the female slaves. adlan also railed off a part of the beit el mal for the reception of cattle--camels, sheep, goats, donkeys, &c.; these are also sold by auction. [illustration: a slave woman from equatoria.] the mint forms a distinct sub-department. when the mahdi was alive, gold and silver coins were struck by his order, not so much to supply the demand, but rather to prove his independence of egypt and the establishment of his new kingdom. he ordered guineas to be coined, just like the egyptian pounds; they were made out of the gold ornaments captured in khartum. dollars were coined, and made similar to the turkish medjidie dollar. a certain hajji abdullah granteli, of bokhara, formerly jeweller in khartum, and elias el kurdi, watchmaker, were made chief coiners. in the latter lost his hand and foot for issuing counterfeit money. almost all coins bearing the stamp, "by order of the mahdi," have disappeared. when i arrived in omdurman there was a great scarcity of small coins, and in consequence pieces of damur (a twilled cotton fabric manufactured in the sudan), valued at ten, five, and two and a half piastres, were made currency; but these rags soon became so dirty, from being passed from hand to hand, and so covered with oil and grease, that people refused to accept them. khalifa abdullah, when he heard of this, threatened those who refused with confiscation of property and imprisonment, and employed spies in various parts of the market to report the names of those who objected; but the spies were bribed to keep silence, and abdullah was obliged to give in. merchants had recourse to every sort of deception to evade his orders, so the dirty rags were withdrawn from currency. adlan had organized the mint rather with the object of making a profit than of supplying a want. silver was cheap, and he was able to make per cent. profit on the manufacture of dollars. at that time gold coinage was no longer current. on one side of the dollars was stamped the mohammedan date, with the words, "struck in omdurman," while on the reverse was the sultan's toghra, underneath which was written the word, "makbul" (accepted); hence the dollar became known as the "makbul dollar." pieces of five and ten piastres value were also coined, as well as a few single piastre pieces, on one side of which was stamped the toghra, and on the other the word "omdurman." the mahdi on his coins had written, within the toghra, the words, "by order of the mahdi," but khalifa abdullah did not follow his example. besides these coins, english sovereigns were also current in omdurman, and were known as "khayala" (cavalry) pounds, on account of the st. george and the dragon being engraved on them. egyptian pounds were also current, but now all gold coins have become rare. the principal currency is the medjidie dollar, and these have been in such constant use that they are much obliterated. the maria theresa dollar (also known as the "abu nokta") is current as well, but chiefly with sawakin, massawa, and abyssinian traders, and notably with the last. the french -franc-piece and the spanish dollar (known as abu madfa) are current in a very minor degree. egyptian piastres and half-piastres, introduced by the hicks expedition, are occasionally seen. the austrian quarter-gulden piece (fiorini) is considered to be worth piastres. in addition to all these silver pieces, copper coins of all descriptions are current. the khalifa abdullah had no small trouble in circulating the makbul dollar; the merchants refused to value them at piastres, and, in spite of most stringent orders, and continued threats of confiscation of property, imprisonment, &c., the order was somehow continually evaded. merchants set high prices on their goods, and would never accept until the buyer had shown all the different sorts of dollars he possessed; he was thus obliged to do this or to buy at exorbitant rates. complaints became rife, and eventually they reached abdullah's ears. he got very angry, and one day in october , he sent troops to the market with instructions to bring all the goods in the market to the beit el mal. it was useless to resist; the owners were obliged to look after their own goods, which were piled up near the big gate of the beit el mal, in the open, and under a burning sun. abdullah was now raging, and publicly made the following curious statement:-- "that unbeliever gordon induced merchants to accept miserable bits of paper as equivalents for money, and now i offer you silver and you won't even take it." for fourteen days these wretched people sat by the gate, trembling for their property. all sorts of rumours were flying about. some said that the khalifa intended to throw all the goods into the river; others said that he was going to burn them, and perhaps the most likely notion of all was that he intended to confiscate the lot and transfer it to the beit el mal. by this time the merchants were thoroughly alarmed, and begged some of their influential friends to mediate with the khalifa. at length the latter summoned the principal merchants, and asked them if they would accept the makbul dollar at the value of the old dollar, whereupon they not only accepted gladly, but declared their readiness to accept any sort of money he chose to issue, even should it be made of leather. thus was a reconciliation effected. the khalifa treated the merchants well, gave them plenty of food, and condescended even to eat with them on this festive occasion. after this episode there were no more difficulties about making the makbul dollar current in omdurman, though to this day the arabs refuse to accept it. but gradually silver became dear, and the mint began coining bad dollars, made of two parts silver to three parts copper; consequently the value of the old dollar has now gone up to piastres. this gave further opportunities to the counterfeit coiners. the silver-workers in the mint began making dollars on their own account, and, those being different from the others, caused great confusion. these false dollars were very well coined, and it required a practised eye to notice the deception; indeed, it was not until a very large quantity of these false coins had got into circulation that the fraud was found out. an inspector was now sent to examine all dollars; all false coins were broken into pieces, and no compensation given to the owners. thieves and smugglers purchased the bad dollars at piastres apiece, and then, of course, every description of bribery and corruption was practised. for instance, an arab would agree to sell his camel for dollars, on condition that the money should be submitted to the examining commission. the president, who was of course bribed, gave out as his decision that the dollars were all good, and received a good round sum from the purchaser for his falsehood; thus it happened that the arab was generally defrauded of or dollars. in spite of several false coiners being punished with the loss of a hand and foot, still the evil practice continued, and it is only within the last few years, since the price of silver has increased so much, that false coining has, to a great extent, ceased. a printing and lithograph press was also established in the beit el mal; it had originally been set up in khartum, and was now used for pulling off numbers of mahdi proclamations. several "ratibs," or mahdi's book of prayers, were also printed and distributed. a museum of curios also formed part of the beit el mal. it is known as the beit el antikat, and contains numbers of interesting things, such as trophies from darfur, abyssinia, and egypt. the abyssinian section is the largest, and includes king john's throne. amongst the darfur articles are the robes of sultan yusef and of the sultan of masalit. the robe of one of the ababdeh sheikhs, who was made a bey by the government, and then came to omdurman and submitted to the mahdi, represents egypt. the beit el mal also contains a dispensary, in charge of an egyptian doctor; here are numbers of shelves, laden with medicines, which have long since gone bad, but the doctor has taken entirely to native remedies, of which cauterization and burning are the most usual. amongst the khartum survivors was a certain greek soap-boiler, who had established a soap manufactory in the beit el mal, and had handed over to it his large supplies of soda; but gradually other private individuals began to establish soap works, and soon they began to sell soap so cheaply that all the beit el mal customers came to them. the consequence was that the khalifa at once issued an order that the beit el mal held the soap-boiling monopoly, and anyone who infringed this rule would lose one hand, and all his property would be confiscated. a careful system of accounts was elaborated in the beit el mal showing all revenue and expenditure. if an expedition is ordered to any part of the country, money, clothing, and other necessaries must be supplied from the beit el mal. the staff to work this large administration consists of an emin beit el mal, his assistant, head clerk, and a host of smaller officials and clerks. when the merchants refused to accept the makbul dollar the staff was increased, as at that time the whole of the boats and canoes were also confiscated. of these there were upwards of , , and they were eventually hired out by the beit el mal. wad adlan always tried to secure for the beit el mal the services of those clerks who had formerly served under the government; but this plan did not please the khalifa. adlan naturally preferred the old clerks, who thoroughly understood their work; besides, they were terrified of the dervishes, and thus did not dare to cheat. on the whole, adlan's administration was very good, and he received the khalifa's thanks. abdullah now turned his attention to reorganizing the system of justice. hitherto, and during the mahdi's lifetime, the office of kadi had continued, but the ashraf (mahdi's relations) also acted in the capacity of judges, and the result was the greatest possible confusion. for instance, supposing a man was sentenced by the judge, sayid abdel kader (the sheikh el islam) would immediately pardon him. abdullah, not unnaturally, wanted to change this anomaly, not so much in the interests of justice as to break down the power and authority of the ashraf. he therefore nominated kadi ahmed as the kadi el islam, and appointed a number of assistant judges, whom he called nuab. it was ruled that everyone, old and young, should report all causes of dispute to the grand kadi, and it was his duty to look into it and give a decision. kadi ahmed is a particularly good man, and gives protection to the white people, more especially when they are attacked and abused by the native populace. he is, however, of rather a vacillating, timorous disposition, and is therefore a pliable instrument in the khalifa's hands; consequently there is often a miscarriage of justice. thus did the khalifa secure, in his own person, the right to pardon or to convict, and thus he became absolute master of life and death. as for the law, he only appealed to it when it suited his own convenience; on every other occasion he absolutely ignored it. chapter xiii. the khalifa decides to conquer abyssinia. events subsequent to the fall of khartum--capture of gedaref and galabat--dervishes defeated by abyssinians at galabat--abu anga's victorious expedition to tagalla--his triumphant return to omdurman--the khalifa's grand review--destruction of the gehena tribe--the khalifa decides to send abu anga's army to conquer abyssinia--the battle of dabra sin--abu anga sacks gondar--the victorious dervishes return to galabat--rejoicings at omdurman. the preceding pages have given a glimpse of omdurman, the new dervish capital of the sudan; let us now turn briefly to the military events which had occurred since the fall of khartum. whilst khartum was besieged on all sides, so also were the various other garrisons still holding out, closely beset. gedaref, also known as suk abu sin, the name of the patriarchal sheikh of the shukrieh tribe, was situated in the midst of a fertile plain which produced such quantities of corn that it was the common saying, three camel-loads could be sold for half a dollar. the ground was so productive that anything could be grown. there was no want of water. the greeks and several egyptians had made gardens, in which there was found every description of fruit-tree; grapes grew in abundance, and were of particularly good quality; they were to be had all the year round; for it was of no consequence in what month the vines were pruned. quantities of sesame were also grown as well as a special kind of dhurra, with a sweet stalk, from which a substance something like honey was extracted. water-melons, cotton, tobacco, and all sorts of vegetables were grown in the greatest profusion, and everything was of exceptionally good quality. the garrison of gedaref consisted of only two hundred men, and on being summoned by the jaalin to surrender, they did so, in april . this is hardly to be wondered at, for the inhabitants of gedaref are, for the most part, jaalin, and resistance would, under such circumstances, have been next to impossible. the principal merchants were permitted to keep their goods, and the change of hands did not, for the moment, greatly alter the situation; but we shall see, later, what became of this rich and valuable province after a prolonged dervish occupation. as regards galabat, the difficulties were considerably greater. this town was situated about six days' journey from gedaref, and was the residence of the well-known takruri, saleh bey shanga, who was mamur of the district. this brave official remained loyal to the government throughout, and was bitterly opposed to mahdiism. he succeeded in gaining the friendship of the neighbouring abyssinian tribes, and, through their assistance, inflicted great losses on the dervishes. in november , he severely defeated the besieging jaalin; but a few days later, the dervishes, being heavily reinforced, beset him very closely. through the intermediary of the english, king john sent a relieving force of abyssinians, which reached the vicinity of galabat on the th of january, ; and making known their approach to saleh, the latter made a sortie, while at the same time the dervishes were heavily attacked by the abyssinians, who drove them off, thus enabling the entire garrison, men, women, and children, to escape; they marched _viâ_ gondar to massawa, under the protection of an abyssinian force. galabat was subsequently occupied by the dervishes, who collected here in great force under the emir wad arbab. meanwhile, saleh bey, who was now staying with ras adal, the chief of amhara, was not idle, and was continually urging him to take possession of galabat; he was shortly afterwards joined by the fiki medawi, formerly a wild, fanatical adherent of the mahdi, and who, together with abu girgeh, had been one of the first to lay siege to gordon in khartum; this man, after the mahdi's death, began to find out that he had been following an imposture, and fled from omdurman; he stayed in abyssinia for a time, and eventually reached cairo. abdullah was furious at his flight, and put a number of his friends in chains, believing that fiki medawi had been instrumental in pushing on ras adal to attack galabat. shortly after the festival of the "three holy kings," in commemoration of the baptism of our saviour in jordan, known as "ghittas," which means immersion (on this occasion--the th of january--a cross is always immersed in the river); ras adal, having collected a large army, amounting, it is said, to , men, of whom , were horsemen, advanced across the mountains and descended on galabat. sheikh egeil, of the hamran arabs, who had always been loyal to the egyptian government, and had combated mahdiism continuously, also joined ras adal, and entered dervish territory. wad arbab, who had received full information of the abyssinian movements, was awaiting their attack, strongly entrenched within galabat. he had , well-seasoned troops, mostly jaalin, and a quantity of rifles and ammunition. in a few minutes the abyssinian cavalry, dashing down with wild impetuosity, completely surrounded wad arbab; the fight did not last long; the dervishes were driven out, pursued in all directions, and galabat was soon in flames. arbab's men could not face the wild rush of the abyssinians, and fell in great numbers; the high wind caused the flames to spread with terrible rapidity, and soon the powder magazine blew up with a terrific report, burying hundreds in its ruins; amongst these was a greek who had come from sawakin the year before to omdurman, where he was imprisoned for a time, then released, and came to galabat, hoping to escape into abyssinia, just a few days before this fight which took place in january . the abyssinians captured a large number of women and children, whom they dragged off as slaves. a few months prior to this action, gustav klootz had died in galabat. he had left omdurman in september , for galabat, intending to escape into abyssinia; but having no money, he was forced to walk the entire distance, and the great fatigue he had undergone made him seriously ill; he lingered on for a time, but eventually died; and perhaps it was fortunate that he did die, for only a few days afterwards an order arrived from the khalifa abdullah at gedaref, ordering him to be thrown into chains and brought back to omdurman, where a miserable death awaited him. whilst the abyssinians were attacking galabat, sheikh egeil fell upon doka, a place situated between galabat and gedaref, which he succeeded in capturing, and putting its inhabitants to the sword. the abyssinians now returned to their own country, after having sacked and pillaged galabat, which they left absolutely empty. the disaster at galabat was a great blow to the dervishes; abdullah now appointed his nephew yunis as emir of the district, and ordered him to reoccupy the town. yunis, on his return from wad el abbas, had encamped south of omdurman fort, at a place which is still known as dem yunis; his force consisted of about , men, armed with remingtons, and , sword-and spearmen, of whom the majority had been amongst the mahdi's original followers at abba. abdullah himself now crossed over to khojali, and led yunis's troops for some distance. the equipment and transport of the force were not expensive items; each man received about half a dollar; and perhaps that was sufficient, for the troops always plundered the villages for their food as they went along. yunis marched direct to abu haraz, on the blue nile, and thence followed the khor rahad up to galabat, which he found quite empty and deserted. he now settled down, and, to his credit, he occasionally made raids into abyssinia, destroyed a few villages and churches, and sent the ornaments he took to omdurman. this so delighted the khalifa that he dubbed him "mismar ed din" (or the "nail of religion"), and had special poems about his deeds sung in his presence. but soon yunis abandoned hostilities, and guaranteed free passes to merchants travelling in the country; the abyssinians believed in these assurances of peace, and descended into the galabat plain at various times in the year, bringing with them for sale thousands of mules, donkeys, and horses, also quantities of coffee, garlic, lentils, beans, wax, and honey. things went on quite peaceably for some time; but one day yunis suddenly fell on all the merchants collected within their zariba, killed numbers of them, seized their goods, and sent off about , of them as prisoners to omdurman. several died of starvation on the journey, and on their arrival in omdurman the remainder were released, but had to go about the markets begging their bread. it frequently happened that they would take shelter for the night in the merchants' empty stalls; and on the latter arriving with their goods in the morning, they would find their shops full of dead and dying abyssinians; afterwards, slaves were left by the merchants to guard the shops and prevent these miserable creatures from making use of them. these wretched, gaunt, half-starved people used sometimes to come to us to beg for food; they knew no arabic, but knowing that we were christians, they would repeat that word, or sometimes "wad maryam" ("mary's child") to excite our pity. their wretched condition at length reached the khalifa's ears, and he ordered the beit el mal to take charge of them; the emin beit el mal now sent a crier to the market to warn all abyssinians that if they came to the beit el mal they would receive assistance. the poor starving creatures dragged themselves there, but were still kept two or three days without food; numbers of them died, and their bodies were thrown into the river, whilst the remainder were at last given a miserable pittance of dhurra, which served to keep body and soul together for a time; but these, too, at length succumbed to starvation; and after that, i never saw an abyssinian prisoner again. in july , khalifa abdullah wrote a letter to king john, offering to make peace, on condition that he would become a moslem, and that he would return all the women and children he had captured, but more especially was he to surrender the persons of saleh bey, fiki medawi, and the sheikh el egeil. if he refused to accept these terms he must expect war. king john did not deign to reply. during the feast of bairam on the st of july, , khalifa abdullah summoned abu anga to omdurman, and here i must give a short description of this renowned warrior. hamdan abu anga had been a slave, and had been brought up in the khalifa abdullah's household; he had been well treated by his master, and was eventually looked upon as a member of the family, a custom which was formerly in vogue amongst the baggara, rizighat, and taisha tribes. in fact, these arabs used not infrequently to give their daughters in marriage to their slaves. it was amongst the baggara that abu anga had first learnt to ride on horseback and to go out hunting, and it was from them that he had acquired such dexterity in handling and throwing spears, for which he had frequent opportunities in the continual raids which took place on neighbouring tribes. abu anga had taken part in the campaigns against zubeir pasha, by whom he and his entire family had been captured, but subsequently released. when the mahdi declared himself he joined with his master, abdullah. during the siege of el obeid little was known or heard of him, but after the fall of that city khalifa abdullah handed over to him the charge of all captive soldiers in el obeid, as well as in other places. the astute khalifa had for long had his eye on these blacks, whose fighting powers he well knew, and he was most desirous to bring them under his direct control, and utilize them. previous to the hicks expedition abu anga had already secured a number of them, and they were largely instrumental in compassing the complete downfall of that ill-fated army. then, again, his blacks had shown the greatest bravery in their campaigns against jebel dair, when they had acquired a great name for themselves, and, finally, it was through their means that gordon's fort of omdurman had been compelled to surrender. after the fall of khartum these brave but undisciplined troops, having no more fighting to do, took to highway robbery. numbers of them hovered about in the desert a few hours' distance from omdurman, and amused themselves by falling on caravans coming from kordofan or berber, and pillaging and killing to their heart's content. their depredations became so constant that the mahdi decided that he must employ them somewhere, so he ordered abu anga to proceed with them to the still independent dar nuba country, which he was to conquer, and obtain from thence recruits for his jehadieh, or black army. but there was also another reason which induced the mahdi to undertake this campaign. during the siege of omdurman a certain baggara sheikh, of birket, named noaïa, deserted, and gathering a number of malcontents in dar nuba, he defied the mahdi's authority. when i was at el obeid there were all sorts of strange stories current about the doings of noaïa, who had gathered numbers of horsemen from the howazma and miserieh tribes, and had made himself decidedly formidable. all those disappointed slave-hunters and slave-dealers who--annoyed with the suppression of their trade by the egyptian government--had flocked in numbers to the mahdi's standard, now had begun to find out that they were rather worse off than before, and were, in reality, little better than the mahdi's slaves. these people sought every occasion to desert to noaïa. abu anga therefore received orders to hunt him down and annihilate him. he collected his men, quitted the now debauched and pleasure-loving omdurman, and proceeded to the tagalla mountain, at the foot of which he encamped. after the death of king adam, his followers had again thrown off the dervish yoke and were now in open revolt; against these abu anga conducted several successful expeditions, and captured numbers of slaves, but suffered some loss as well. as long as abu anga was in the neighbourhood, tagalla was more or less in a state of submission; but the moment he moved off they again broke out into active opposition. abu anga now advanced on noaïa, whose adherents, alarmed by the presence of the soldiers, dispersed. these blacks are greatly feared in the sudan, not only on account of their great bravery in battle, but also it is well known that they are merciless to their conquered enemies. sheikh noaïa was eventually secured and thrown into chains, and a few days later he died of small-pox. abu anga attacked almost all the nuba mountains; at times he was successful, at other times he suffered reverses. tolodi, gedir, and lastly naïma, were scenes of bloody combats, and at the last-named place abu anga, in spite of his artillery--which was commanded by said bey guma--was heavily defeated and driven back. one of abu anga's most capable assistants was abdullah wad ibrahim, who, on account of his unparalleled cruelties, made abu anga's name a terror throughout the land. abu anga was now recalled from his campaign by khalifa abdullah to take possession of zogal and his army, who was then on his way from darfur to bara. we have seen how rapidly and skilfully he carried out this order. now all that was left for abu anga to do was to punish the mutinous troops of el obeid who had killed sherif mahmud. wad ibrahim was sent on this duty, and after a severe fight, in which numbers were killed on both sides, he succeeded in capturing several of the mutineers, whom he attached to his troops; but some of them escaped to the nubas, and wad ibrahim proceeded in consequence to golfan-naïma, which he besieged, took, and reduced the inhabitants to slavery; the heads of bishir and three other leaders were sent to omdurman, where they were exposed for a month on the gallows as a warning to all mutinous-minded persons. by all these various actions abu anga had succeeded in adding considerably to the numbers of his troops, and he moreover drilled them constantly and instilled a spirit of discipline which had been hitherto unknown--thus he raised up a power which it was almost impossible to defeat. khalifa abdullah now sent instructions to abu anga to return to omdurman in time for the bairam festival, and at the same time he sent orders to all the inhabitants of the gezireh and nile valley to collect at omdurman for a great review. abu anga, as usual, complied with the order with alacrity, and making forced marches, _viâ_ tayara, shatt, and om sadik, he reached omdurman in a very short time. abdullah sent numbers of emirs to meet and welcome him. in omdurman the only topic of conversation was about abu anga and his great army. the khalifa himself also prepared a magnificent reception for his faithful general, in which he strove to do him all possible honour. on the night preceding the great festival, criers were sent through omdurman announcing that any one who failed to present himself at the great review the following morning would be seriously dealt with; this order was willingly complied with, and at the foot of the hills near kerreri were assembled enormous crowds, who waited--as the malcontents said--on the pleasure of that "slave," abu anga. the guns had all been drawn out in line the evening before, and the festival was ushered in by prolonged salutes. in the meantime abu anga had arrived at om sadik, where a careful inspection was made to see that no one was in possession of unlawful booty; numbers of female slaves were found, who were subsequently sent to the beit el mal. he then moved on to his camp near omdurman, and prepared to make his formal entry the following morning. by the time the sun had well risen, the dervishes were assembled in endless lines under their various flags. khalifa abdullah left his residence accompanied by his bodyguard; he was mounted on a magnificent camel, and advanced to the sound of the great onbeïa trumpet. abu anga, mounted on a pony and clad in a casque and coat-of-mail, now advanced to meet him, and his magnificent figure created no small impression on the assembled multitudes. his bodyguard, consisting of his very best soldiers, accompanied him, as well as a number of mukuddums. on approaching the khalifa he adroitly dismounted and kissed his hands; he was warmly greeted, and ordered to mount again. then the march past began. upwards of , black troops, armed with remingtons and formed up in long lines, went by to the sound of drums and trumpets; but the latter, on which the players attempted to produce some specially dervish music, raised the most discordant sounds, which gave an intensely comic aspect to the whole proceeding. each emir, with his flag, rode at the head of his division; the chief emirs were ibrahim wad abdullah, nur angara, zeki tummal, and ibrahim wad abu tagalla. when the jehadieh had passed, the sword-and spearmen followed, some , in number; then came the inhabitants of omdurman in countless numbers. there could not have been less than , . after the march past all were formed up again, and then the khalifa, dismounting from his camel, stood on his sheepskin and conducted prayers. the shout of "allahu akbar" from over , throats was impressive in the extreme, and, as the sound rolled down the immense lines, it was echoed again and again through the hills, lasting for over a minute after each shout. on the conclusion of prayers the guns pealed forth salutes, and such wild fanaticism and enthusiasm prevailed that several men dashed up to the very muzzles of the guns and were blown to pieces. of course the khalifa announced that the souls of these stupid people had gone straight to paradise. the salutes over, the lines were once more inspected, and then all the flags were collected in one place, in the centre of which stood the khalifa; this was the signal for the whole force to gather around and vie with one another in their shouts of loyalty that they would die a hundred times over for him and his cause. khalifa abdullah became so wildly impressed by the enthusiasm of these savage hordes that he could scarcely contain himself, and it was as much as his bodyguard could do to keep the impetuous crowds from crushing him to death. numbers were bruised and kicked by the horses; but they were left quite unnoticed--a mere remark, "umru khalas" ("it is the end of his life"), was all the sympathy these heartless men ever offered. from that day to this i do not think the khalifa has ever had such an ovation. at that time omdurman was unusually full, trade was brisk, and it was thought that he would now undertake the invasion of egypt. but, as it soon transpired, he had still a good deal of work to do in the sudan itself. one enemy he undoubtedly had--this was el merhdi abu rof, a descendant of the ancient kings of sennar and sheikh of the great gehena tribe, which, amongst the mass of arabs allied to the mahdi, had persistently held aloof. this tribe possessed a large number of camels of a curious dark-coloured breed, and also quantities of gray-coloured cows. el merhdi had instigated a purely local movement of his own against the government, and had once besieged and set fire to sennar; long before abu anga's arrival he had shown hostility to the khalifa, and had annihilated a number of small dervish garrisons; his power extended as far as karkoj, and he levied taxes on all boats going north. for a long time the khalifa had let him alone, but now finding himself in possession of such an enormous force, he decided to attack el merhdi, more especially as at this time his audacity considerably endangered the navigation of the blue nile, from whence omdurman drew its main supplies of corn. he therefore despatched ismail wad el andok up the blue nile, while abdullah wad ibrahim was sent up the white nile. el merhdi, attacked thus on both sides, was powerless; he was unable to withstand the advance of the victorious black troops, and he and almost all his arabs were killed. el merhdi's head was sent to omdurman, where it was exposed for a long time on the gallows, and was at last thrown into the pit in which lay the heads of bishir and those who had been slain with him. thus one by one did the khalifa's enemies become subdued. the vengeance wreaked on the unfortunate gehena tribe by the dervishes is almost beyond description. the property of the survivors was seized, men, women, and children were dragged off to omdurman, and there, naked and helpless, they were left to starve on the river bank. one would see wretched mothers of three or four children, who looked just like skeletons, miserably abandoned in a place utterly unknown, and subject to the insults and indignities of the proud and cruel dervishes. numbers of them, especially children, died of starvation, whilst those who still had sufficient strength would wander about begging their bread; if any one had money enough he would buy a waterskin, and would go half a mile to the river, fill it, carry it back and sell it in the market for a quarter of a piastre; thus they eked out a miserable existence. men who but lately had ridden on good horses and had owned hundreds of camels were reduced to this mode of gaining their livelihood, whilst poor women could be seen, with babies at their breasts, toiling under the heavy weight of a filled waterskin towards the market-place; then they had no rest, for in the evening they had to grind the dhurra and make a sort of pap which the poor little mouths of their infants could hardly masticate; they had but one meal in the twenty-four hours. it was impossible not to be struck by the mother's love of these poor people for their offspring, and at the same time to feel bitterly incensed against the khalifa and his cruel followers who could thus intentionally inflict on people of their own race such untold cruelties. thousands of gehena camels were brought to omdurman and sold at low prices; thus was the wealth of their country utterly destroyed, and now the terrible famine, which was so soon to fall upon the land, was close at hand. in the meantime abdullah was considering with his advisers the desirability of permitting war to break out with abyssinia. the great power of which he now felt himself possessed inclined him to war, and of course the majority of his emirs, whose sole desire was to pander to his will, agreed with him. then news reached yunis that ras adal was making gigantic preparations; this finally decided abdullah to wage war, and with this object in view, he despatched his faithful abu anga to conduct the operations. the three khalifas, abu anga's brother abdel maula, who commanded the jehadieh in omdurman, and several other important people embarked on the steamer and proceeded to the east bank, where abdullah himself led off the troops. for some days before, every boat had been requisitioned for transport, and these were now laden with provisions for the army; but what with overloading and the strength of the current, several foundered and numbers of persons were drowned; however, this was of little consequence, for human life is of small value among the dervishes. the troops advanced in divisions along the banks of the nile, and before finally taking leave of them the khalifa addressed abu anga and his emirs, urging them to be ever united, and to keep always before them the rewards which would be theirs on their return, promising them the divine help of the mahdi and a certainty of victory. this speech was delivered in such an impressive manner that there were few dry eyes amongst these hardy warriors, and the khalifa himself was by no means ignorant of the gravity of the step he had now taken, for abyssinia was looked upon as even a more powerful country than egypt. abu anga followed his troops in a steamer as far as abu haraz, near which the khor rahad joins the nile, and which during the winter is quite full and navigable almost up to galabat. some time before, abdullah wad ibrahim and ismail wad el andok had been sent to collect people in the gezireh; they now joined abu anga, whose entire force numbered , men. after a short halt at galabat, abu anga advanced into abyssinian territory, leaving wad ali in galabat. making forced marches, the troops made their way over hills and across valleys, through the most rugged country. numbers died of exhaustion, but still they continued to move on; they met with no opposition, the villages through which they passed were deserted, and wherever they went they found provisions in abundance. this magnificent country was a source of intense astonishment to the dervishes. meanwhile ras adal had collected his forces in the great plain of dabra sin, some six days' journey from galabat, and here he patiently awaited abu anga's advance. as the dervishes approached, numbers of the gezireh troops who could not keep up with the force lagged behind, and were invariably killed or mutilated by the abyssinians. abu anga, on arrival on the plain, formed up in battle-array, and putting himself in the centre of a square composed of his best troops, he advanced on the abyssinian camp, which was much extended, and stretched as far as the eye could reach. the abyssinians now attacked in wild disorder; they fought with the courage of lions, for their religion and fatherland, against the hated moslems who had dared to enter their country. the horsemen especially fought with the most reckless bravery; but abu anga's blacks here as elsewhere showed their sterling fighting qualities; they mowed down the masses of abyssinians in thousands with their well-aimed fire, whilst the latter were vainly endeavouring to break through their solid ranks; and soon abu anga's victory was assured. he had conquered through his good discipline, the arrangement of his troops, and the galling fire of the remingtons, and now the rest of the fight was merely a massacre, which was continued until the troops were quite tired out. most of ras adal's principal chiefs had fallen, and amongst the captives was one of his sons, who was well cared for and sent to galabat. the entire camp, with its countless tents, donkeys, and mules, fell into the hands of the mahdiists. the captured animals were in such quantities that the victors could not possibly carry them off, and in consequence they either hamstrung them or cut their throats. amongst the other things captured were two guns. the road to gondar, the former capital of abyssinia, was now clear, and abu anga advanced towards it, hoping that he would secure great quantities of treasure. it was a march of only thirty miles from the battlefield, and was soon reached; sacked, plundered, and reduced to ashes; the churches were pillaged and then burnt; priests were thrown down from the roof and killed; the population massacred, and women and children dragged in hundreds into slavery. abu anga only stayed a short time in gondar, the change of climate had already caused the death of a number of his troops, and, laden with booty, he returned to galabat, which he reached at the end of december. meanwhile there was great anxiety in omdurman. abdullah could not conceal his alarm, for it was well known that the abyssinian army was very powerful. abu anga had crossed the border thirty days before, and still no news reached abdullah: those who did not wish the dervishes well, rejoiced at the thought that a great part of the army must have been destroyed, and the anxiety so told on abdullah, that he was seen to visibly age in this momentous time. besides, there was the prophecy of mohammed, who had forbidden his followers to make war against the abyssinians, unless the latter first provoked it. abu anga's expedition was in direct disobedience to this order, and it was thought that he must suffer defeat as a punishment, and it was urged that if abu anga returned in safety, then the prophet mohammed must be a liar as well as the mahdi. at length the arrival of twelve heads which abu anga had sent to galabat proved conclusively that a great victory had been won, and now the news of the destruction of gondar and the return of abu anga's victorious troops was indeed a welcome relief to the terrible suspense. this news was followed up soon afterwards by the arrival of numbers of women and children, and quantities of loot. several of these miserable captives had died on the journey, and those who had not been already sold, had their ears cut off, and were sent to the beit el mal. abdullah, without the smallest shame, went himself to the beit el mal, and chose all the best-looking girls for his harem, and each of the principal men of his household received an abyssinian girl as a present. abu anga received great praise at the hands of the khalifa, and many verses were made in his honour. shortly before the victor's arrival in omdurman, criers were sent out to say that he should no longer be called abu anga, but sidi hamdan, and abdullah himself went out to meet the conqueror, and shed tears of joy on seeing him. the booty included thirty thousand maria theresa dollars, of which khalifa abdullah at once took sole possession. chapter xiv. king john of abyssinia killed in battle. destruction of the kababish tribe and death of saleh bey--events in darfur--revolt of abu gamaizeh--his death and destruction of his army--rabeh zubeir--king theodore's son visits omdurman--the conspiracy of "sayidna isa"--death of abu anga--king john of abyssinia attacks galabat--success of abyssinians, but the king killed--victory turned to defeat--the king's head sent to omdurman. let us now leave abyssinia for a moment, and turn to the course of events in other parts of the country. the most powerful and determined opponent to mahdiism was saleh bey fadlallah wad salem, the brother of sheikh tome of the kababish, who had been executed in el obeid. this tribe has enormous quantities of camels and sheep, and occupied the desert between dongola and kordofan; they formerly paid taxes to the extent of , dollars a year to government. they did all the carrying trade between dongola and kordofan. it will be remembered that, during the siege of el obeid, saleh bey had come to the mahdi's camp; but had left it quite suddenly, and thenceforth had become one of the mahdi's bitterest enemies. in he had given considerable assistance in camels to the english expedition, and had been in constant conflict himself with the dervishes. when khalifa abdullah had consolidated his authority he determined to rid himself of this rebel. saleh bey was at that time weak, for many of his tribe had joined the mahdiist ranks, and had fought against him. he learnt that abdullah intended to strike a serious blow to his power, he therefore appealed to the egyptian government for help, and sent fifty of his slaves to wadi halfa; the government granted them two hundred remington rifles, forty boxes of ammunition, and £ in cash. neufeld, a german merchant, joined saleh's men on their return to kordofan, intending, if possible, to re-open a trade with the arab sheikhs in gum and ostrich feathers. nejumi, who was then at dongola, having learnt through spies of their departure, occupied the wells of selima on the arbain road, through which the kababish would probably pass. fifteen days after leaving halfa the little caravan arrived at the oasis, only to be received by dervish bullets. most of them were killed, and a few, including neufeld, were taken captive to dongola; there they were beheaded, with the exception of neufeld, who was sent on to omdurman, where he arrived on the st of march, . the capture of the caravan and arms was a great blow to saleh, and now abdullah no longer delayed to carry out his intentions. he despatched the emirs greger hamed and wad nubawi, of the beni jerrar, against him. in the first fight saleh was successful; but lost his brother and a number of men. after this, a number of dar homr arabs, who had formerly been allied to him, now deserted to the other side, and with the dervishes occupied the wells of mahbas. this being the only water in the neighbourhood, there was now nothing left but to fight, and saleh and his men performed prodigies of valour, killing great numbers of the dervishes; but he was hampered by numerous camp-followers, women and children, whom it was impossible to defend; and at length, seeing his third brother fall before his eyes, he dismounted from his horse, sat on his "fur" (sheep's skin), and waited to receive his death-blow, which was dealt by one of greger's relatives, between whom and saleh a blood feud existed; the latter having killed both greger's father and uncle. another account relates, that greger had severely wounded saleh in the head with his axe, but saleh plunging his sword through greger's body, they both fell from their horses, and died together. this fight took place on the th of may, , and by saleh's death abdullah succeeded in ridding himself of the enemy he most feared. wad adam was despatched with saleh's head to omdurman, where it hung on the gallows for a month, and where i myself saw it. after saleh's death the kababish were dealt with in the most cruel manner; several of them were brought to el obeid as prisoners, where they were executed. on one occasion wad adam had one hundred of them hanged together, and then threw their bodies into a well. the same evening groans were heard from the well, and it was found that one of the victims was still alive; he was taken out and allowed to live. the camels and sheep of this wealthy tribe were all brought to the beit el mal at omdurman. most of the she-camels were killed and sold for about two dollars apiece. in this way the dervishes ruined the possibility of breeding, and destroyed the prosperity and well-being of the country. the once powerful kababish tribe has now almost disappeared, and is seldom even mentioned. abdullah having thus vanquished his last enemy, now seriously set to work to mature his plans for the conquest of egypt. but before entering on this part of my story, it may be as well to give a brief historical sketch of darfur, and the recent events which had occurred there. darfur had, for the last four centuries, been governed by its native sultans, who had gradually extended their authority into kordofan, and it was here that they first came into contact with the egyptian government. mohammed ali had sent his son ismail pasha to take possession of the sudan, and whilst he was engaged in subduing the petty kings of shendi and halfaya, his general, ahmed bey defterdar, had advanced from dongola into kordofan. this province was then administered by a magdum appointed by sultan musallem, of darfur, who, hearing of the advance of the "turks," collected a large force, and awaited the invaders at bara. spies had told him that it would be impossible to fight the turks, as they used fire; but the magdum laughed at the idea, and said he had no fear of fire. moreover, to prove his word, he had an immense quantity of thorns and brushwood collected, which he set fire to, and then ordered his cavalry to dash through it; these bold and fearless riders did so, and received no great harm. thus did he impress his followers that they need have no fear of the turks; but the good man had no notion of firearms and what they were. he met the attack of the turks in the most heroic manner; but he and most of his followers fell, and the province became an egyptian possession, though no steps were taken to establish a government there. it was not until august , that the bold slave-hunter zubeir pasha attacked and took the ancient kingdom of shakka, and thus did ismail pasha extend the egyptian authority over darfur. from that date the country knew no peace; there was a constant series of little wars. slatin had fought no less than twenty-seven battles. then after the defeat of hicks pasha came the dervishes, and zogal became emir of darfur, residing at el fasher; but his rule was not peaceful. the sultan dudbenga was fought, overcome, and sent to omdurman a prisoner in ; thence he was sent to galabat, where he died. after this, zogal was left undisturbed, and succeeded in accumulating a considerable amount of riches; but when the mahdi died, zogal, as we have seen, was summoned to omdurman, and left darfur in the hands of sultan yusef, dudbenga's son; this sultan was entirely submissive to the khalifa; and when sheikh madibbo, of the rizighat tribe, revolted against karamallah, the dervish emir of bahr el ghazal, and fled to jebel marra, sultan yusef took him prisoner, and sent him back to karamallah, who passed him on to abu anga, by whom he was decapitated in el obeid. but abdullah did not wish darfur to continue in this semi-independent state; he therefore instructed karamallah to raid the country from dara. yusef sent word, begging that their respective boundaries might be adhered to, but karamallah only raided the more. in self-defence yusef sent out his army, and thus a war broke out, which was just what abdullah wanted. yusef allied himself with sultan said, of jebel marra, and their combined forces defeated ketenbur, who had been sent by karamallah in command of a force. in consequence of this disaster, abdullah despatched his uncle, osman wad adam (nick-named "ganu"), with a strong force to shakka, where he joined karamallah. yusef, fearing that he had been betrayed, sent a very strong force, and in the month of december a great battle took place, in which the furs were almost annihilated, and it is said that karamallah's brother, kerkesawi, killed so many men with his sword that his right arm became bent. darfur once a prey to the bloodthirsty dervishes, osman wad adam continued his victorious march to el fasher. sultans yusef and zayid then fled to jebel marra, and sought the assistance of sultan jabrallah. osman sent troops in pursuit. yusef detached himself from jabrallah and fled again, while jabrallah betrayed and murdered the brave zayid and sent his head to osman. shortly afterwards yusef was captured, brought to el fasher, and there decapitated. the heads of both these sultans eventually reached omdurman, and were hung up beside the abyssinian heads, where i saw them in january . after this the captor of zayid returned to el fasher, whilst jabrallah, anticipating a great reward for his treacherous conduct, was sent with his five sons to see the khalifa in omdurman. he was allowed his liberty for a time, but having once attempted to escape, he and his sons were thrown into chains; four of the latter died in prison, and just before i escaped i saw the unfortunate jabrallah and his surviving son in a pitiable state in the streets of omdurman. for the second time darfur had now become a dervish province, under the direction of osman wad adam. the khalifa believed that all opposition was over, and that he had nothing to fear from that direction. indeed, the majority of the inhabitants had been killed, and the few surviving sheikhs had taken refuge in the dar tama and masalit districts; but they did not remain inactive; there were constant meetings, in which they discussed how they should rid themselves of these "enemies of islam," as they called the dervishes. the masalit people are savage and cruel to a degree; they are in the habit of making waterskins out of the skins of their slain enemies. slatin bey told me that when in darfur he had two of these skins--of a male and a female--which he had kept as curios. some of the darfur sheikhs had gone as far as to apply to the sultan of borgo for help, but he had refused to interfere in any way with mahdieh. then a man suddenly appeared amongst the masalit about whose origin little was known; he represented himself as the arch-enemy of the hated dervishes, who, under the guise of mohammedanism, robbed, plundered, ravished, and murdered all they could lay their hands on. such influence did this fiki, or religious teacher, gain over the superstitious masses of the west that some said he must be the true mahdi; others said he was the fourth khalifa (osman); then again many said he was the celebrated sheikh es senussi, the great religious head of all the north african tribes, and whose influence has extended far into central africa. several asserted that he was merely a delegate from the great senussi. this religious reformer and adventurer styled himself "abu gemaizeh" (gemaizeh is the arabic name for the sycamore fig-tree), because it was said that the shade of this tree always accompanied him. at omdurman all sorts of extraordinary stories were current about his supernatural gifts. some said that he had the power of miraculously increasing food; an ordinary plate-full he would make sufficient for hundreds of people; others said that they had seen him produce milk from his finger-tips, and it was said that he could produce, in a moment, all sorts of things pleasant to the palate. he could raise a palm-tree out of barren ground, which, in the space of an hour, would become covered with fruit. in his sermons and letters he reproached the khalifa for having oppressed and slaughtered moslems, and having taken their wives for himself--a crime only committed by the "unbelievers"--and with god's help, he declared his intention of coming to omdurman to annihilate "god's enemies," as he called the dervishes. the sayings and doings of this extraordinary being attracted great attention throughout the entire sudan. the mahdi had first appeared in the west, and now an anti-mahdi had sprung up from the west. immense numbers of adherents flocked to his standard. not only did the furs, thirsting for vengeance, join him, but people from bornu, borgo, and wadai collected around him. osman wad adam despatched a force against him, which was annihilated, and he now begged the khalifa to send him reinforcements. in answer to this appeal a number of beni jerrar arabs were sent to him, but these also were destroyed almost to a man. these two important victories increased abu gemaizeh's prestige enormously, and when abdullah saw that the oppressed sudanese were secretly rejoicing at his discomfiture, he himself began to tremble for his authority. a third expedition, despatched by osman, met with a similar fate to the other two, and now the khalifa vented his wrath on his unsuccessful lieutenant. in october , he wrote to him to retire at once to el fasher, to confine himself entirely to defensive operations, and on no account to attack the enemy. there was great excitement in omdurman, where the importance of abu gemaizeh's victories had been enormously exaggerated. it was even said that osman had been killed, el fasher captured, and kordofan on the point of being invaded. then came the news that el obeid had been captured, and now the rejoicings at the khalifa's defeat were an open secret. but these highly-coloured rumours were merely the outcome of an intense desire and longing on the part of the wretched inhabitants of the sudan, groaning under the dervish yoke, to see themselves once more free from the tyrannical oppression which their own short-sighted conduct had brought upon themselves. abu gemaizeh had, it is true, been very successful. he had three times defeated osman, who was now besieged in el fasher, and in great want of food. all darfur had sided with abu gemaizeh, and the dervishes were almost powerless; but in the zenith of his success the great religious sheikh was suddenly struck down by small-pox, and died at kebkebieh in february . his death caused many of his adherents to quit the cause, and his successor--who, had he not attacked el fasher, might have succeeded in compassing the downfall of osman, who was then entirely cut off and in great straits--felt that he must do something to keep his army together. but his force was hampered by a large number of women, children, and camp followers. he was deficient in firearms, whilst osman was well supplied with rifles and ammunition, and his shaggieh troops fought magnificently. the final action took place under the walls of el fasher, on the nd of february, , and resulted in the death of the leader and the massacre of thousands of his followers. this was the death-blow to the movement, and is an example of how easily moslems are imposed upon by religious adventurers. numbers of those who had joined and left mahdiism, thoroughly convinced of its fraud and deception, had unhesitatingly allied themselves to this new religious movement, which they inspired with almost greater enthusiasm than that they had just quitted. the collapse of this new delusion was therefore comparatively greater. the heads of abu gemaizeh and a number of his important leaders were sent to omdurman, where they found a place on the gallows, and were subsequently relegated to the pit in which lay the whitening skulls of merhdi, the abyssinians, and the mutinous blacks. osman's victory delighted the khalifa even more than abu anga's success in abyssinia, because he had always considered darfur a place of refuge, to which he had a secure line of retreat in case of attack from the north. the victorious osman now vented his wrath on the tribes who had supported abu gemaizeh's movement. the beni helba tribe especially fell under his merciless hand, and was almost exterminated; but the country took some time to recover its normal state, and, in consequence, the khalifa had to forego the pleasure of summoning osman to omdurman, and loading him with benefits as he had done to abu anga. however, he had a special house built for him near the mosque, and prepared to do him all honour when his presence could be spared from darfur. but this was not to be. the successful osman fell ill, and died shortly afterwards at el fasher. he was succeeded by the khalifa's brother mahmud wad ahmed, who was also accompanied by the kadi suleiman el hejazi. this latter individual was deported to darfur because he had had a disagreement with the khalifa's principal spy, hajji zubeir. mahmud was ordered, on his arrival at el fasher, to send to omdurman all the money found in the late osman's safe, and to take over all his horses, wives, &c., and keep them for himself. he left omdurman with a large number of followers, and travelling _viâ_ el obeid at length reached his province. here he found the country desolate; during the recent wars all cultivation had lapsed, a terrible famine had set in, and he was unable to find food for his troops. on reporting this to the khalifa, he received orders to retire to nahut in kordofan, which he did, but his black soldiers disliked the change, and conspired together to kill mahmud and desert back to darfur. they attempted to carry out this project one night, but failing to secure the ammunition, which was essential to the success of their undertaking, they deserted from the camp, about , strong, and set off to join rabeh zubeir. this rabeh had been originally brought up in zubeir pasha's family, had shown military ability, and at the time of the suppression of the revolt in bahr el ghazal by gessi pasha commanded with suleiman (zubeir's son) the supposed rebel army. on suleiman's capture and death, rabeh fled with the remnants of the force towards bornu, and after a host of strange adventures and constant fights with the kingdoms of borgo, wadai, &c., he succeeded in establishing himself in an independent position on the banks of the sharé river which empties into lake chad. here he has collected a considerable force, and appears to have at last established friendly relations with his neighbours. the khalifa has frequently sent messages to him to return to omdurman, where he would be most honourably received, but rabeh has persistently refused. osman, when at el fasher, also communicated with him in the same sense; but rabeh, who had a shrewd idea of the khalifa's intentions, summoned to his aid a fiki who had been in omdurman, and who quite understood abdullah's character. on rabeh telling the fiki of his message from osman, the fiki asked that a cock should be given him, and he proceeded deliberately to pull out the feathers of its wings. he then bound its legs together, and plucked it completely; and last of all cut its head off. the fiki said not a word, but rabeh thoroughly understood the moral of the proceeding, and came to the wise conclusion to stay where he was. the last news is that a portion of his force has re-entered dar fertit, the country to the north-west of bahr el ghazal. as for mahmud, after the disturbance at nahut, he retired on el obeid in , and left darfur to its fate. all that portion of it bordering on kordofan is entirely depopulated. herds of elephants roam the plains as far as el fasher. there is continual internecine warfare, which is still further reducing the population, and creating a wilderness of this once populous district. let us now revert to the operations against abyssinia. in consequence of abu anga's victory over ras adal, the tribes on the north-western borders of abyssinia, and who are known as makada, embraced mahdiism; and it was at this time that todros kasa, the son of the todros kasa (king theodore), who had been vanquished by the british at magdala, suddenly appeared at galabat, and offered his services to the dervishes to fight against his own countrymen. he was at once sent on to omdurman, where he was received with great pomp by khalifa abdullah, who promised to place him on the throne of abyssinia, and in return for this promise todros agreed that all the abyssinians should turn moslems, and should pay the khalifa an annual tribute. before going further, it may be as well to explain briefly who this todros was. he was the second son of the king theodore who had been subdued by the english army. the eldest son had been taken to england, where he died. at that time the todros of whom i speak was a mere child, and had been concealed by his relatives from king john, who wanted to kill him. when he grew up he wandered about abyssinia, and happened to be in the neighbourhood of galabat when abu anga made his successful descent on abyssinia. it at once occurred to todros that an alliance with the dervishes might secure him his father's throne, and we have seen how successfully he had deceived the khalifa, who implicitly believed in his good faith. todros had two children of twelve and fourteen years of age, who always accompanied him when he went about in omdurman, and he always carried a red umbrella, which made him the laughing-stock of the place. he did not speak arabic, and all intercourse with him had to be through an interpreter. amongst the female slaves taken by abu anga were two girls, who accidentally came into the possession of one of my friends. these girls were related to todros, and when he heard of them, he at once bought their release, and eventually took them with him to galabat. we used often to talk to him, as he was not in the least afraid, and told us of his real projects and intentions. suddenly abu anga, without any previous warning, set off for galabat, no one knew why, and it was generally supposed that some very important information had reached the khalifa. abu anga took todros kasa with him. before leaving, abu anga asked the khalifa to whom he should refer in case of his (the khalifa's) death. abdullah replied to his brother yakub, and from this it was generally understood that he intended to retain the succession in his own family. [illustration: abyssinian dancing girls.] shortly after abu anga's departure, the khalifa received a small note in amharic, written on parchment, from king john. two of the abyssinians in omdurman interpreted it to the khalifa, and it was to the effect that he (john) was prepared to make a reasonable treaty of peace with the khalifa; basing his argument on the fact that they all--both sudanese and abyssinians--had a common descent through their mutual forefather ham, and that, being neighbours, they should rather combine to fight against their common enemies, who were the europeans, and whose power was always extending. to this the khalifa replied that if he would become a moslem, they would become good friends; but if he refused to do this, he (the khalifa) felt obliged to brand him as the enemy of god and his prophet, and that he had no other course open but to exterminate him. on abu anga's arrival at galabat, the most violent jealousy sprang up between him and yunis. the latter separated his camp from abu anga's, and lost no opportunity of showing his hatred and envy of the "slave" (as he called him), who had so successfully combated the abyssinians. even on the usual friday review, in spite of abu anga having been appointed to the supreme command, yunis always drilled his men separately from the rest. this abu anga reported to the khalifa, who at once instructed yunis to place himself under him in every respect. meanwhile a conspiracy was brewing amongst the emirs in the camp of yunis. one of the ugliest types of takruris that have ever been seen took to calling himself "sayidna isa" ("our master jesus"). yunis and his emirs believed in him, although he subsequently betrayed him. it is impossible to understand how it is that these fanatical people could believe in the nonsense told them by isa; yet, if he heard that any one disbelieved in him, he would at once have him summoned, and there, in the presence of four witnesses, he would convert him. he asserted that he was the messiah foretold by the mahdi who should wrest the power from the khalifa. indeed the day was actually fixed when it was decided to kill abu anga and proclaim isa publicly; but yunis betrayed the conspiracy to abu anga, and after afternoon prayers on the following friday he summoned the sixteen mutinous emirs and threw them into chains; he then wrote to the khalifa asking his instructions. the latter despatched some judges to galabat, who were told to instruct these deluded people in the right way. they were tried one after the other; but none of them would deny their belief in isa; then they threatened to kill them; but isa laughed, and said he was immortal. at length the judges, seeing that further talking was useless, condemned isa to death, and in a few minutes he was dangling on the gallows. even this was not proof enough for the sixteen deluded emirs, who still believed he was not dead, and so one by one they were hanged, and their heads sent to omdurman, where they also remained on the gallows for a month and were then relegated to the pit. yunis was summoned to omdurman, and for some time was quite out of favour. thus did khalifa abdullah score success after success over his enemies, and there is little doubt that, had abu anga failed to act as quickly and decidedly as he did, isa's rapidly-increasing power might have become a serious menace to the khalifa's authority. there is no doubt that these sixteen emirs had been instigated by yunis to revolt against the khalifa and put him at the head of the movement; they knew perfectly well that isa was a mere fraud and deception; but i do not think it is possible ever to start a movement on a large scale in a moslem country unless it is based on some religious grounds. the mahdi only succeeded by working up the fanaticism of his own countrymen. such motives as liberty, freedom, and the love of the fatherland are entirely unknown factors in the composition of feelings which go towards creating a national movement amongst moslems. abu anga, who was now growing old and fat, did not live long after the events just described. he was attacked by typhus, which at that time was prevalent at galabat, and in a few days this great warrior, who had shed such quantities of blood, was dead. his soldiers mourned him bitterly, and his name is still held amongst them in affectionate remembrance; they loved him because he himself had been a slave, and knew how to discriminate between severity and kindness. he was one of the best emirs of mahdieh, and of an infinitely more generous nature than wad en nejumi or others. once a poor woman came to him and complained that a soldier had forcibly taken her milk, which was all she had to live upon. abu anga sent for the soldier and asked him if the woman's complaint was true; the thief denied it most emphatically and abused the woman unmercifully. abu anga was almost convinced that he was speaking the truth; but the woman still persisted in the most violent manner that the man had drunk the milk. after a moment's thought abu anga gave the following judgment: "the man's stomach to be ripped open, and if no milk is discovered, the woman will be executed." the woman accepted this judgment with delight, while the unfortunate man had to undergo this terrible operation. the milk was found in his stomach, and abu anga made good to the woman her loss. thus did he maintain discipline amongst his men, and as long as he commanded in galabat there was no fear. in battle his cruelty knew no bounds, and the most horrible atrocities were perpetrated by his men, especially in abyssinia. his death was deeply felt by the khalifa, and with reason, for he was not only a brave and capable leader, but he was absolutely honest; any other man in his place would have, long before, abused his power. he was buried in galabat in , and his men have canonized him as a saint. when dying, abu anga nominated wad ali as his successor, until the khalifa's orders should be received; but very soon after his death there was discontent amongst the men and want of harmony amongst the emirs, with whom wad ali was by no means a favourite. these dissensions reached the khalifa's ears, and he despatched the kadi ahmed, in whom he placed great reliance, to galabat, with instructions to do all he could to put down discord, and to nominate some one as leader who was popular with all ranks. after several meetings, the kadi at length succeeded in quieting the people, and it was agreed, by common consent, to nominate zeki tummal as abu anga's successor. this appointment was subsequently confirmed by the khalifa. the galabat army was now made into four divisions--zeki tummal commanded the first division, and was also commander-in-chief of the whole; abdallah ibrahim, nur angara, and mahmud wad ali commanded the other divisions. in addition to these four great emirs there were also other well-known men in the galabat force--such as sheikh abu tagalla, faragallah (gordon's old commandant of omdurman fort), omar wad elias pasha, sheikh nuri, of the bederieh tribe, ismail wad el andok, and others. the immense zariba was now further fortified and strengthened. there were already rumours that king john was making preparations to take galabat, after which it was said he would advance on omdurman and utterly destroy mahdiism. king john was accompanied by all his most important chiefs--ras adal, ras aria salasseh, ras michael, ras mariam, ras alula, saleh shanga, and several others. in all, the army numbered some , , of whom , were horsemen. this news caused the greatest alarm in galabat and omdurman; but it also had the effect of making us indulge in pleasant dreams of release. zeki tummal took counsel with his emirs whether it would be better to await the enemy's arrival in the zariba or whether it would be advisable to advance and fight in the open. kadi ahmed urged that it would be better to stay in the zariba, and his advice was adopted; there is little doubt this was the wisest course to take, as the abyssinian cavalry would undoubtedly have struck confusion into their ranks. zeki's force now numbered , men, and was well disposed in the zariba to resist attack. criers went through the market-place summoning all people to leave their business and take up arms for the defence of the town; messengers were also sent to the khalifa to beg his blessing--in fact, great fear prevailed. spies reported that the enemy were as numerous as the sand, that their numbers stretched beyond the horizon, and that when they moved such clouds of dust arose that the sun was quite obscured. this news created almost a panic in omdurman; besides, there is an old prophecy that the abyssinians should come to khartum; that their horses should wade knee-deep in blood, and that the king should tether his horse to the solitary tree on the white nile near khartum. at the end of february the king quitted gondar, and marched out to make holy war against the most bitter enemy to christianity. when near galabat he sent word to zeki to say he was coming, lest it should be said that he had "come secretly as a thief." numbers of women had also joined the abyssinian army; they were, for the most part, the wives and concubines of the soldiers, and many others had fled from their parents to follow their lovers to battle. on saturday, the th of march, , the king began his attack on galabat. such clouds of dust were raised that it was almost impossible to see anything. the zariba was stormed; some attempted to drag away the thorn bushes, others tried to set fire to it, whilst the dervishes opened a terrific fire on the masses. some takruris, who had deserted zeki's camp, reported that the part of the zariba held by wad ali was the weakest, and, in consequence, the abyssinians made a supreme effort to break in at that point. the din and noise was beyond description. at length, after a very hard fight, the abyssinians succeeded in forcing an entry, and then their masses rolled in like a great storm stream, carrying everything before them. the thousands of dervish women within now raised terrible cries as the enemy approached, killing and destroying all in their path; they set fire to the straw huts; the din of the firing, the shouts and screams of the men and women, mingled with the crackling and wild rush of the flames, were terrible beyond description. already the abyssinians had taken possession of the beit el mal, and had occupied the house in which abu anga's harem lived, and now they were searching for his body, which they wanted to pull out of the ground and throw into the flames, in revenge for the burning of gondar. the strength of the mahdiists was now almost exhausted, ammunition was running short, and it was thought the fight was nearly over, when suddenly the news spread amongst the abyssinians that their king had been struck by a bullet. this was the signal for a general retreat: everyone seized all the booty he could lay his hands upon, and soon the zariba was evacuated; several of the women were carried off as captives, including abu anga's harem, and the abyssinians then made for the river atbara. now was the time for the dervishes to reverse their defeat; they had suffered very heavily, wad ali's division had been almost annihilated; but they lost no time in cutting off some of the abyssinians' heads and sending them at once to omdurman, with the information that they had gained a great victory, for kadi ahmed well knew how anxious was the khalifa, and how fearful that defeat should overtake his forces. the dervishes thought the abyssinians would renew their attack the next day, but to their surprise no one appeared; then spies were sent out to discover their whereabouts, and they brought back information that the abyssinian force was now in full retreat towards the atbara. this information decided zeki to pursue, and on the th of march the dervish force came up with a large portion of the abyssinian army encamped on the river bank; a battle ensued, in which the abyssinians lost heavily and fled precipitately, leaving the dead body of king john in the hands of the dervishes. it was discovered carefully packed in a long box and sealed with wax; at first it was thought to contain treasure, but on opening it the odour of decay left little doubt that the body they had attempted to embalm was none other than that of the unfortunate john, and this was confirmed by the abyssinian prisoners. the king's head was cut off and sent to omdurman. here the wildest excitement prevailed, the khalifa abdullah ordered the great war-drums to be beaten and the onbeïa to be sounded. a large review took place. the abyssinian heads were paraded and said to be those of eas alula, eas mariam, and saleh shanga; but this was not true. however, the khalifa's delight knew no bounds, and our sorrow was proportionately great. once more our cherished hopes had been dashed to the ground, and it seemed as if all chance of escape was now quite at an end. the heads were put upon the gallows, and left no doubt that a great victory had been won, then three days afterwards came the news that the king had been killed. fixed high up on a camel's back, john's head was paraded up and down through the market-place, preceded by a herald shouting out that the mighty negûs had been slain, and that now was a time for festivity and rejoicing. the khalifa was quite intoxicated by his success. he publicly exposed the articles captured with the king's body, amongst which was the throne from which the cross had been removed; this was afterwards replaced in omdurman and retained in the beit el mal. a wonderful copy of the new testament had also been taken; it was written on parchment in amharic language, was profusely illustrated and illuminated, and bound in a triple leather cover; then there was a gold watch marked "crosdi, paris," which showed the day of the week and the month of the year; a telescope, and also an original letter from her majesty queen victoria to king john, dated november . i myself read this letter, in which the queen inquired after king john's health, and asked him how he and his family were; that england having occupied egypt had become a near neighbour to abyssinia, and that it was her majesty's earnest wish to continue to live on terms of peace and friendship with the negûs. the letter concluded with good wishes for the king's health, happiness, and long life, and was signed by lord salisbury. amongst other things i also saw the king's tent and a number of richly jewelled crosses. on the same day of its arrival, the khalifa ordered the king's head to be sewn in a piece of leather and sent it on to dongola, from whence it was to be sent on to wadi halfa as a warning to the khedive and the english that a like fate would await them if they did not at once submit. it now seemed that the khalifa was at the very zenith of his power. there in a dirty pit near the market-place lay the decaying heads of all his principal enemies, the sultan yusef, abu gemaizeh, the abyssinians, sayidna isa, all huddled up together in a heap, and i could not help reflecting deeply on all these strange events every time i passed that pit. gradually the skin and hair dropped off, leaving only the bare white skulls, deep eye-holes, and grinning teeth, and yet these were the skulls of crowned heads, prophets, and patriarchs gathered together in a narrow pit from far-distant countries--a solemn evidence indeed of the far-reaching power of mahdiism. passers-by struck them with their sticks, and yet for what thousands of lives had these now empty brain-pans been responsible, which lay rotting on far-distant battlefields--proof in truth of god's judgment on the sudan! abdullah now thought himself master of the whole world. in his moments of wildest enthusiasm he had never dreamt of gaining such a tremendous victory over the abyssinians, and yet another such victory would have almost destroyed his power; he had lost thousands of his best warriors, and the women and cattle captured could never compensate him for such a loss. of course zeki and his emirs did not always adhere to the truth in writing to the khalifa, nor was the latter anxious they should do so--indeed, it would have been tantamount to a crime on zeki's part to report that the galabat garrison was weak; had he done so, and even if he had been the khalifa's own relative, he would probably have been relegated to prison. it would have been treason to have said anything which would detract from the khalifa's idea of his own power, and he was surrounded by wretched flatterers and trimmers who were the last to tell him the truth. but all these wars and disturbances had now almost completely ruined the country, and then came the terrible famine, which lasted almost a year and brought untold sufferings on the people. the khalifa, however, was blind to all this misery and distress. his only idea was self-aggrandisement, and he did not realize that hunger was likely to prove by far the worst and most dangerous enemy with which mahdieh had to cope; but this he eventually learnt by bitter experience. after the death of king john there was a certain amount of intercourse between the dervishes and abyssinians, and not a few of the latter used to come to galabat and promise to lead zeki to where the late king's treasures had been hidden; but this they probably did with the intention of trying to draw him into an ambush. it was eventually hunger which compelled zeki to take some active measures. he despatched abdullah ibrahim into abyssinia with several thousand men, and a few words respecting the career of this emir may not be amiss. he was a nephew of ahmed bey dafallah, of kordofan, and had come to notice during the siege of el obeid. whenever he saw any cattle near the town he was always on the watch with his slaves, and generally succeeded in making a successful sortie, capturing them and bringing them into the fort. it was said that on one occasion, when the mahdi was approaching el obeid, ibrahim left the fort and made straight for him, intending to kill him, but was twice wounded by his revolver; he however succeeded in returning to the fort, and after its fall the mahdi, already greatly impressed by his bravery, pardoned him, and placed him in command of a division under abu anga. he accompanied his chief in all his numerous fights, and displayed even greater bravery in fighting for the mahdieh than he did in fighting for the government. had he only been a baggara he would undoubtedly have succeeded abu anga in command. this abdullah now penetrated abyssinia; for a long time nothing was heard of him, and it was thought he must have been annihilated; but at length he returned to galabat, having lost a large portion of his force. the actual events which happened in this expedition are wrapped in obscurity, and it is more than probable that it fared badly. after the king's death abyssinia became a prey to civil and internecine war, which left the inhabitants no time to revenge themselves for the death of their king. the dervishes, too, were quite exhausted, and had to combat a terrible famine, which swept them off in thousands. this famine induced the sensible emirs at galabat, such as abderrahman wad abu degel, to enter into commercial relations with abyssinia, which have continued uninterrupted up to the present time. chapter xv. defeat of nejumi at toski, and of osman digna at tokar. the khalifa's intentions regarding egypt--wad en nejumi despatched north--various operations on the egyptian frontier--battle of toski--defeat and death of nejumi--subsequent events in dongola--osman digna's operations against sawakin--is defeated at tokar--emin pasha and events in equatoria--recent events in uganda and unyoro. having briefly considered the khalifa's operations within the sudan, let us now turn and follow his movements and intentions regarding egypt. ever since the annihilation of hicks pasha's expedition the conquest of egypt had been the dream of the mahdi's life. those of his followers who had seen egypt described it in the most glowing terms to the sudanese, whose cupidity was fully aroused. the immense wealth in cairo, the lovely women in the harems, had excited their most ardent desires. the mahdi himself had decided on the khedive's palace of abdin as his place of residence, whence it was his intention to proceed to syria, and after conquering it, to advance on mecca. he had prophesied that the conquest of egypt should be carried out by khalifa sherif's flag, and he himself had done all in his power to incite the egyptians to revolt. he wrote numbers of letters to the leading sheikhs and principal people in cairo, and had he not died, there is no doubt his influence would have permeated, in no small degree, into egypt. several people in egypt believed in him as the true mahdi, and besides, he was now the ruler of hundreds of thousands of people. with his death belief in mahdiism began to decline. his successor, it is true, was a man of boundless energy, and had just as ambitious ideas as his predecessor in regard to the conquest of egypt, but circumstances had entirely altered. [illustration: an arab sheikh of upper egypt.] the mahdi's death and the khalifa's accession had caused mahdiism to break up into two distinct parties, viz. the baggara arabs, who called themselves the arabs of the sudan, and the "aulad belad," or country people, such as the danagla, barabra, jaalin, and other tribes on the white nile. this division in mahdieh considerably weakened it. wad en nejumi and his emirs belonged to the section opposed to the khalifa, and who would like to have freed themselves from his control; in consequence abdullah always arranged that a baggara emir should be attached to nejumi, to keep him informed of all the latter's doings. the mahdi had laid down the plan for invading egypt, which should be by combined movements from dongola towards halfa, and from abu hamed towards korosko; and accordingly, when the english evacuated dongola in june , mohammed el kheir, the conqueror of berber, together with abdel majid, at once took possession of the province, and the first action which took place between these latter and the british and egyptian troops occurred in december the same year at giniss. el kheir was defeated, and fixed his advanced camp at kerma. the fall of sennar enabled the khalifa to send forward more troops for his operations against egypt, and the mahdi's prophecy that the conquest of egypt was to be carried out by sherif's flag, entirely fell in with his own arrangements, for he entrusted the command of the advanced force to wad en nejumi, who belonged to sherif's raya (flag), and thus succeeded in keeping this powerful emir, whom he regarded with great fear and jealousy, as far away from him as possible.[k] nejumi set out from omdurman in november , and marching along the river bank to berber, robbed and pillaged as if he were advancing through an enemy's country. he seized the goods of merchants at berber, giving them receipts signed to the effect that they should receive payment when he had taken assuan. he captured two egyptian spies, one of whom he decapitated, and the other had his hand and foot cut off. during his stay at berber he robbed and pillaged in all directions, and used to boast of his approaching conquest of egypt. he stopped all trade with the north, and drove on the entire population towards dongola. it was not, however, until the end of november , that he reached dongola, and there he began to organize his fighting force, which was continually increased by reinforcements sent from omdurman. early in four messengers were despatched with letters to her majesty the queen of england, his majesty the sultan of turkey, and his highness the khedive. these envoys were permitted to come to cairo, and to personally deliver their letters; but when they were opened, perused, and found only to contain a summons from the khalifa to adopt mahdiism, and submit to him, or the recipients would suffer the same fate as gordon and hicks, the messengers were at once sent back without any reply being given to them, and this was considered by abdullah to be the greatest insult that could have been offered to him. the dervish advanced-guards continued to creep on towards the egyptian frontier, whilst hassan khalifa, the nephew of the former mudir of berber, occupied the desert wells, and made several incursions on the river to the north and south of korosko. mounted on dromedaries, these bold raiders made sudden descents on defenceless villages, carried off quantities of booty, and then disappeared into the desert. at this time the egyptians had retired to wadi halfa, and the dervishes had occupied sarras, a little to the south, from whence they constantly harassed the egyptian outposts. a variety of circumstances, however, occurred to prevent khalifa abdullah from carrying out his projects against egypt. the revolt in darfur, the abyssinian war, internal dissensions, all contributed to impede the despatch of troops north. besides, the dervish garrison in dongola had already done much to destroy the well-being and prosperity of the province; they plundered the inhabitants, who, in their turn, became averse to the dervish occupation; continued warfare had produced a famine; numbers died of small-pox. bahr el karrar in occupied the wells of haimar and ongat, and from here was able to annoy the inhabitants on the nile between assuan and korosko. he raided the village of kalabsheh, some fifty miles south of assuan, killed the egyptian police guards, and carried off their officer a captive to omdurman. all this time there was a great deal of talk in the capital about the conquest of egypt, but we never received any very decisive news. the captured officer was paraded through the streets in triumph, and was then brought before the khalifa, who received him kindly, and questioned him very fully about egypt; but he quite understood what sort of replies to make to the khalifa's questions, and only told him what he knew would please; so he was well treated, set at liberty, and now lives in omdurman. from time to time the khalifa despatched reinforcements to dongola which never returned, and this was the reason of the main road leading north out of omdurman being called "darb esh shuhada" ("the martyrs' road "). the egyptian government had now confined itself to the defence of its own frontiers. in june , bishir bey, a subsidized government sheikh, turned bahr karrar out of haimar; but on the other hand, the sarras dervishes made a sudden descent on the dabarosa bazaar, killed a number of merchants, and escaped before the troops from haifa could intercept them. meanwhile, there was not much harmony between the big emirs. nejumi and his followers were jealous of the masterful baggaras, and it was only with the greatest reluctance that they brought themselves to show any respect to the emir mussaid of the baggara habbanieh, who had been sent to dongola by the khalifa to watch and report on nejumi's doings. the baggaras hated nejumi to such an extent that one of their number attempted to poison him; but he recovered after a long illness, though he never entirely got the poison out of his system. it is said that his eyesight was always bad afterwards. this constant bickering between the baggara and nejumi crippled his energy. formerly he had been greatly feared by them, but now his own people were annoyed that he showed so much deference to the khalifa and his emirs. as for the khalifa, he was thoroughly exasperated by nejumi's indolence, and summoned him to omdurman. during his absence from the province, a deserter from the egyptian side led the dervishes into the fort at khor musa, within five miles of halfa, where they killed some of the garrison, but were unable to take the whole fort. colonel wodehouse having been informed of their attack, at once sent out help, and the dervishes were surprised and annihilated. [illustration: bishir bey, sheikh of the ababdeh arabs.] towards the end of nejumi was in dongola again. the khalifa had threatened to throw him into chains unless he showed more energy in his operations against egypt. he had already exhibited his displeasure by imprisoning sheikh idris and makin wad en nur, who had shown a reluctance to go forward, for they had made up their minds that a successful attack on egypt was an impossibility. they could not even capture wadi halfa. the desert roads were next to impassable owing to want of water, whilst the river was in the hands of the enemy, who had numbers of steamers, and could prevent any dervish advance by water. all these difficulties were quite apparent to nejumi and his emirs; but so self-confident was the khalifa, that he could not believe there was any great difficulty in conquering egypt; added to this, several sheikhs of upper egypt had assured him that when the dervishes advanced they would be joined by the entire population. thus the khalifa insisted, and nejumi could not do otherwise than obey. he had already transferred to dongola the entire batahin tribe, which had showed a mutinous spirit, and early in he sent a further detachment, consisting of thirty flags, composed for the most part of gehena arabs, who are not warlike, and were most averse to fighting in the dervish cause. thus, like lambs to the slaughter, were these unwilling tribes driven forward to battle. when the revolt in darfur had been suppressed, and abyssinia had been humbled, the khalifa turned his attention more earnestly than ever to the invasion of egypt. he despatched yunis ed dekeim to dongola, and on his arrival, nejumi was to begin his advance north. nejumi was now nominated commander-in-chief, and being one of the mahdi's most determined and fanatical emirs, he had given him the title of "emir el umara" ("the emir of emirs"). he had under his command several brave emirs, such as abdel halim, makin en nur, wad gubara, sheikh idris, osman azrak, and several others. but the fighting conditions of these dervishes had considerably changed during the last few years. the ansar no longer fought for mahdieh. all those promises of joys in paradise were no longer believed in, for by dying the mahdi had proved himself to be false, and so were all his prophecies. they did not fight to obtain booty, for long experience had shown them that the booty was exclusively appropriated by the khalifa and his emirs. it was now fear of the khalifa's anger which drove them to fight, and numbers of them deserted when a favourable opportunity occurred for them to do so. not only were all these feelings at work in nejumi's force, but also the conditions of the country in which he was operating were very different from those in which he had won all his early victories. then he knew every path, almost every tree. it was his own country; the inhabitants were of his own race; volunteers flocked to his standards. he always largely exceeded his enemies in point of numbers; but now it was all entirely different. he knew nothing of the country through which he had to march; enormous difficulties blocked his every movement. even had the population of upper egypt been desirous of joining him, they were much too carefully looked after by the troops and the government to be able to do so. an enormous desert separated him from the position he desired to reach, and the result was that his force--just as hicks's force had done--suffered greatly from want of water. as usual he was accompanied by numbers of women and children, and sometimes even five dollars would not purchase a drink of water. abdullah showed his mistrust of the men by permitting their wives and families to accompany them, for he thought that they could not well run away, leaving their wives and children behind, and therefore they would have to fight; but this great crowd of women and children hampered nejumi's movements enormously, and still further increased the want which already prevailed in the dervish camp. when in dongola, the gehenas were suffering so terribly from famine that they stole the dervishes' sheepskins, on which they prayed, and ate them. it was madness to attempt to invade egypt with such a force as nejumi then had, made up of almost every tribe and nationality, all huddled together, and yet absolutely wanting in cohesion. then the enemy which they were going to fight was of an entirely different stamp to the one they had overcome in the sudan. the egyptian was not the same as in the old days. the army was now composed of well-trained battalions under english officers; and it is not out of place here to remark that the occupation of egypt by england was a heavy blow to the khalifa and his followers. often have i heard him say, "if the english would only evacuate egypt, i should very soon take possession of it." thus did nejumi set out from dongola with his force. at sarras a parade was held, and some , souls counted; but of these nearly half were women and children. his intention was to avoid halfa, and march direct on bimban, as the inhabitants of that place had promised to join him; but in the village of argin, he was attacked and defeated by colonel wodehouse. here nejumi lost about , men, amongst whom were several emirs, including sheikh idris and abdel kader guru, besides many more wounded. on account of this victory, wodehouse pasha was known in the sudan as "the vanquisher of wad nejumi." but, in spite of his defeat, nejumi still continued his advance, although the only food he had for his force was camels' and donkeys' meat, and his troops were more dead than alive. he was obliged to make his cavalry into a rear-guard to prevent desertion, but still large numbers succeeded in joining the egyptian troops. the sirdar, general grenfell pasha, wrote a letter to nejumi, in which he showed him that he understood the wretched state his troops had come to, and urging him not to expose uselessly the lives of so many of his people; but take the wise course and surrender. nejumi, however, boldly replied that if grenfell pasha would adopt mahdiism he would guarantee him happiness and contentment, otherwise he would sweep him and his troops off the face of the earth. only one of the two messengers who had been sent with general grenfell's letter returned with this reply; the other--an arab named abdel hadi--was sent on to omdurman bearing the general's letter to the khalifa, who was also informed by nejumi, that abdel hadi had originally been on the dervish side at abu hamed, but had deserted over to the "turks."[l] on his arrival, abdullah questioned him closely regarding the latest news of nejumi and the condition of the opposing armies. abdel hadi replied that the "turks" were very strong, and that it was probable that nejumi would be defeated. for this saying, he was thrown into prison for months, and would have starved to death had not neufeld, who was with him in prison, given him some help; he was eventually released through the intermediary of hajji saad, and permitted to return to abu hamed, whence he escaped back to egypt. meanwhile nejumi still continued his advance; he could not and would not submit. on the one hand he was of far too proud a nature to submit to the hated egyptian troops; and on the other, his fear of the khalifa added to his natural obstinacy. at toski his advance was arrested by general grenfell at the head of the egyptian troops, and he had no other course open but to fight. he was utterly defeated, himself and most of his emirs killed, whilst a mass of men, women and children fell into the hands of the egyptian force. this battle took place on the rd of august, ; by it the annihilation of hicks pasha's expedition was avenged, and the project of invading egypt, which had been maturing for the last three years, entirely collapsed. the news of this defeat caused great commotion in omdurman; it was at first rumoured that every one had been killed; and the khalifa was in despair. he hated the europeans and egyptians, and though we, in our hearts, were rejoiced at the news, we suffered no small anxiety as well, for we thought it quite possible that the khalifa would appease his wrath to some extent by venting his annoyance on us. it was, indeed, a most crushing blow for him and his followers. [illustration: wad en nejumi. _from a photograph of a drawing made by an egyptian officer of the great emir, as he lay dead on the field of toski._] the emirs hassan en nejumi--a relative of wad nejumi--and siwar ed dahab, who had escaped from the massacre, returned with all speed to dongola, and thence to omdurman. they reported that it was madness of nejumi to have attempted what he did; that all his emirs were opposed to it, and that they had told nejumi that they were sure, if the khalifa were fully informed of all the circumstances, he would never have permitted him to advance. as it was, famine, want of water, and the unseasonable time of the year, ought to have been sufficient reasons for postponing the expedition; but nejumi turned a deaf ear to all their protests, he feared the khalifa; his plundering and cruelties cried to heaven for vengeance, and the instruments of that vengeance appeared in the persons of general grenfell and colonel wodehouse. saleh bey, the son of hussein pasha khalifa, and a subsidized sheikh of the egyptian government, drove his nephew out of murat, advanced almost to abu hamed, and we fondly hoped that the government would at least advance to dongola, which is the key of the sudan; but we were again doomed to disappointment. and now mahdiism was far too exhausted to make any further attempts on egypt. the province of dongola had been utterly ruined, and yunis's ill-treatment of the inhabitants was beyond description. complaints of his evil deeds eventually reached the khalifa's ears, and fearing that the inhabitants might be induced to join the "turks," he relieved yunis of his appointment, and replaced him by zogal, who, in spite of his former fall from power, was known to be a just man, and the khalifa trusted to him to restore the confidence of the people. yet the khalifa did not entirely trust zogal, and still left mussaid to watch him, he also sent another baggara called arabi with three hundred troops to observe his doings. dongola now became a hotbed of spying and cross-spying. matters became so serious that it seemed a fight between the rival parties was imminent, and every post brought letters from either section, accusing the other of malpractices. the khalifa therefore summoned these two emirs--mussaid and arabi--to dongola, and on their arrival they reported that it was zogal's intention to deliver up the province to the egyptian government. thereupon the khalifa recalled zogal, and replaced him by yunis. zogal, on his arrival in omdurman, was well received, and did not hesitate to refute the misstatements of the emirs; but he was not believed, and was thrown into chains, where he remains to this day. zogal's only fault is, that he is a dongolawi, and a relative of the mahdi, whilst his opponents are all baggaras, who are the governing party, and therefore he is not likely to receive any pity from them. besides wad en nejumi and abu anga, there yet remained one of the greatest of the mahdi's old emirs. i mean osman digna, to whom i referred in the early pages of this work. he had been sent to the eastern sudan after the fall of el obeid, and in july , had taken up a position near sawakin. the mahdi had given him proclamations to distribute to all the tribes in the neighbourhood of kassala and sawakin, ordering them to rise against the government. the summons was obeyed, and by the end of osman digna was in possession of all the principal posts in the vicinity. the most important work which osman digna performed for the mahdi was cutting the communication between sawakin and berber, and thus blocking the shortest and best road into the sudan. fully alive to the importance of this route, the government made repeated attempts to re-open it, but osman, with his dauntless hadendoas, caused every effort to fail. on the rd of february, general baker pasha made a vain attempt, but was cut to pieces at el teb, losing over two thousand men and all his arms and ammunition. after baker's defeat, the english made another effort, and after general graham had defeated osman digna at both teb and tamai, the proposal was made to open the road to berber, and thus relieve gordon, then besieged in khartum; but it was thought impossible to fight osman digna's hordes, and to overcome the difficulties of the desert, so the idea was abandoned. for seven long years osman digna continued alternately to harass and besiege sawakin; but gradually numbers of the local arabs--notably the amarar--fell away from his cause, and intertribal conflicts ensued. when almost quite deserted, osman digna came to omdurman. in january , he returned _viâ_ gedaref and kassala, where he collected some four thousand men, eventually occupied handub, and again besieged sawakin. he also defeated the amarar, and killed over seven hundred of them. kitchener pasha, the governor-general of the red sea littoral, was severely wounded during his attack on handub; in march of the same year abu girgeh arrived with a force from kassala, and thus osman became almost as powerful as ever. he continued to harass sawakin, and to devastate the neighbouring country. it was useless for him to attempt to take the town, he therefore received the khalifa's orders to establish himself at tokar in january , and at the same time he was permitted to open commercial relations with sawakin. a small post was established at handub, and dervish merchants were actually permitted to enter the town and purchase goods. these commercial relations existed for about two years between sawakin and the dervishes, and, as a famine prevailed at tokar, the enemy drew most of their supplies through the port of trinkitat. suddenly news reached omdurman to the effect that the gates of sawakin had been closed, and all traffic stopped between tokar and handub. in consequence the famine increased, and merchants arriving in omdurman said that no doubt it was the intention of the government to attack osman digna very soon. the wealthiest of these merchants was a certain omar kisha, who had smuggled quantities of lead and powder through sawakin. the news they brought was soon confirmed, and in february , handub was occupied. in march a message was received from zogal, in dongola, to the effect that a salute had been fired at halfa to announce the occupation of tokar by the government, and the complete defeat of osman digna. this news created almost a panic in omdurman, and what made it worse was the uncertainty, for no news had been received either through berber or kassala. it was not until eight days later that a shukrieh arab arrived from kassala, and said that he had heard much talk about the defeat at tokar, but the fate of osman digna was uncertain, some said that he had been killed, others, seriously wounded. a month afterwards letters arrived from osman himself confirming the news of the defeat. this caused great consternation, and the khalifa at once assembled a council. it was said that an egyptian expedition had already reached berber, and every day it was thought news would arrive of the capture of dongola. it was decided to make a camp at metemmeh. the whole of omdurman was secretly rejoicing at the approaching downfall of the khalifa, but again we were all doomed to the most bitter disappointment. news came from berber that the "turks" had no intention of advancing further, and were content to have occupied tokar, where they had built a fort and securely established themselves. but, though thus temporarily relieved, the loss of tokar was a very severe blow to the khalifa, as the government was now in immediate contact with the tribes on the sawakin-berber road, and the way was clear. on the last muled (the anniversary of the prophet's birth) osman digna arrived at omdurman, accompanied by a few followers. during his flight from tokar towards kassala his followers had nothing to eat but wild figs, and many had starved. the khalifa received osman very coldly, and reproached him for his defeat; he afterwards sent him to cultivate on the atbara, where he now lives at a place called adaramab. of all the opponents to government, osman digna was perhaps the most bitter; he had done great things at sawakin, kassala, and on the abyssinian frontier, but by his ruthless cruelty he had alienated the arabs from his cause. in his present seclusion he has, probably, occasion to think of all his evil and bloodthirsty deeds, which have ended in the ruin of his country and the death of his followers. almost all the arabs who espoused his cause with so much zeal are now dead, and his present humiliation is a fitting reward for his blind adherence to a false and ruthless tyrant. scarcity of money in the beit et mal at omdurman was the main reason for the despatch of an expedition up the white nile. since emin had not been disturbed by the dervishes, and karamallah had long since retired to bahr el ghazal, from whence no news had been received of him for years. there was no dervish post south of fashoda, which was the market to which the blacks brought their cattle for sale. the negro tribes all along the white nile had been left quite undisturbed by the dervishes, but now it occurred to the khalifa to send an expedition to collect ivory and slaves and to subdue emin pasha. omar saleh was appointed to command, and was given three steamers and a number of sailing vessels; he was also the bearer of a letter to emin informing him of the various events which had occurred in the sudan, and calling on him to surrender to omar. to add weight to his letter, he also ordered the syrian stambuli to write in a similar sense; also some of the copts in omdurman were ordered to write to the copts who were known to be in emin's service. omar saleh left omdurman in july , and a whole year passed without any information of his movements reaching omdurman; it was thought that emin must have annihilated the expedition and captured the steamers. the khalifa became restless, but at length one of the steamers returned, laden with ivory and slaves. we were all naturally most anxious to hear about emin, and the men who brought the despatches informed us that they had arrived at regaf in october; this place they took by storm, and had sent down to omdurman one of the clerks they had taken prisoner there. as to emin, they stated that he and an englishman (we thought this englishman must be the intrepid stanley) had been put in chains by the mutinous soldiers, because the englishman wanted to bring emin to egypt, as the khedive had sent him there for that purpose. omar saleh had seized this opportunity to take possession of the province, but he had been driven back by the mutineers; this last news was not told the khalifa, but we heard it in confidence. omar had begged the khalifa to send back the steamer without delay, and in consequence it went south again a few days afterwards. [illustration: a native woman of makaraka, the wife of one of emin pasha's officers, who reached egypt from uganda in june .] a long time after this another steamer arrived from equatoria, but it brought no important information. it seemed that emin had left the provinces, that on his departure the country had fallen into a state of anarchy, and that the blacks had massacred all the arabs. the khalifa despatched two emirs, hasib and elias wad kanuna, to regaf in the steamer; and as it was reported that the dervishes there suffered a great deal from the climate, he decided to make it a place of exile, and afterwards sent only bad characters there. in the emir hasib arrived in omdurman; he came as a fugitive, and reported that he was with two of the steamers which had been sent to a place two days' journey from regaf to collect ivory; they made a zariba, and one steamer was already loaded up when they were suddenly attacked by the blacks, who killed everyone in the zariba, and he had retreated with the remaining empty steamer, but the other had fallen into the enemy's hands. some of the blacks who came to omdurman with hasib said that they had heard emin had returned to the province and had stirred up the blacks to revolt against the dervishes; but hasib was of a different opinion, and believed the attack to have been purely a local affair.[m] khalifa abdullah now felt some alarm for the safety of his posts at lado and regaf, more particularly as he was now at war with the shilluks, and his post at fashoda was hemmed in by this warlike tribe; he therefore despatched another steamer south to obtain more information, but the dervishes he wished to send refused to go, and had to be dragged on board in chains. in my opinion the khalifa will have some difficulty in retaining his posts on the white nile. when i left omdurman, the head of the shilluk king was hanging on the gallows, and his brave people revolted against this act of treachery which had deprived them of their chief. the revolt had assumed large proportions, and the emir zeki had been despatched to fashoda from galabat, and had been heavily pressed by the infuriated blacks. footnotes: [k] it was the knowledge of this fact that caused general sir f. grenfell, in his letter written to nejumi, calling on him to surrender just prior to the action of toski, to say, "i know that you personally have been the victim of a base jealousy imposed upon you by the false khalifa."--_mahdiism and the egyptian sudan_, p. . [l] it must be remembered that with the arabs of the sudan the term "turk" is a synonym for the hated oppressor of whatever nationality. the british troops, even, were confounded under the same appellation. [m] the arrival of a portion of the old equatoria garrison in cairo in june , who had travelled under the ægis of the imperial british east africa company through uganda to mombasa, throws further light on the present situation in equatoria. they state that after stanley's departure from kavalli's, selim bey (emin's old commandant), who had been despatched north to collect the garrison, finding that stanley had gone, settled down with a small number of men in his old camp at kavalli's, while the rebel officer, fadl maula bey, with the bulk of the garrison, remained in the neighbourhood of wadelai. this place was eventually attacked by the dervishes, who were driven off, but most of the garrison, feeling that they could not trust fadl maula, who was known to have been in communication with the dervishes, deserted to selim bey. emin had come to kavalli's in april , but on stating that he was in german employ had been joined by only a few of his old garrison, and had not attempted to re-enter his old province. shortly after emin's departure, captain lugard had arrived, and had taken the entire force into uganda and unyoro, where he had established some military posts.--f. r. w. chapter xvi. the famine at omdurman-- - . ohrwalder describes omdurman--the mahdi's tomb, and how it was built--pilgrimage to mecca forbidden--a description of the great mosque--the khalifa's palace--the markets--the population--the khalifa's tyrannical rule--the terrible famine of - --awful scenes and sufferings--the plague of locusts. in this chapter i propose to give a description of the great mahdi capital of the sudan. i have already given a brief account of the place as i found it on my arrival from kordofan in , but now the city is vastly increased in size. when khalifa abdullah had quite consolidated his authority within the sudan, and was contemplating the invasion of egypt, it also occurred to him to define the limits of his kingdom, and establish an hereditary succession in his family. indeed his only reason for carrying on his rule under the guise of mahdiism was his fear that a change of name might involve him in difficulties, but nevertheless he adhered strictly to his intentions, with the result that now nothing of mahdiism remains but the name. he has adopted many of the old government systems of administration, and were it not that he feared he might lose his new kingdom, i believe that he would not be averse to substituting the sultan's for the mahdi's name. it is now thoroughly understood that the khalifa's authority is no longer based entirely on religious principles as in the case of the mahdi: he has substituted for it--if not in name, at any rate in fact--the system of "molk," or temporary authority. he has abolished almost all the mahdi's decrees. his predecessor had substituted for the gallows the system of decapitation for death-sentences, but the khalifa has reinstituted the gallows, his reason for doing this was to make the mode of execution more alarming to the sudanese, for whom he considers decapitation a too painless death. he has changed the name of his followers. the mahdi had decreed that the foggara (or "poor" as the dervishes first called themselves) should take the name of asyad (_i.e._ masters), and this system of nomenclature was partially adhered to up to the date of his death; but the khalifa thought the name foggara very derogatory to the spirit of his rule, and therefore ordered that this name should be abolished and substituted by "ansar ed din" (_i.e._ auxiliaries or helpers in the cause of religion); it was also permitted to be called the habib or sahib el mahdi (_i.e._ the friend or disciple of the mahdi), consequently the women are known as habiba--a play on words which has given rise to much joking on the part of the men. it took only a few days to cause the name of fakir to be completely forgotten, and now ansar for the men and ansariat for the women have been adopted throughout the sudan. the khalifa also abolished the name fiki, which is given to religious teachers. there is a sudan proverb which runs, "el fiki yefik ed din" (_i.e._ "the fiki analyses religion"), and the khalifa knew well how these fikis imposed on the minds of the people, how they wrote amulets for preservation against the evil-eye, witchcraft, diseases, and ill-luck; how they pretended to be able to give women the means of taking revenge on their husbands whose love had grown cold, and help those who desired to secure the sole affection of their husbands. abdullah well knew how credulous were the sudanese in such matters; already the mahdi had given the strictest injunctions that the practice of writing amulets was to be discontinued, and now the khalifa was even more severe; he decreed that any fiki found writing an amulet should lose his right hand, but in spite of these stringent measures it is almost impossible to eradicate the people's belief in these superstitions; the khalifa himself has openly declared that he has not the smallest belief in witchcraft, amulets, &c., and that god, who is alone the judge of right and wrong, has alone the power to reward or punish. however, he is a believer in the power of the evil-eye, and will never permit a one-eyed man in his presence, as it is said the one eye that is good can do great damage. the khalifa, like the mahdi, is bent on the destruction of the old towns, so as to further wrap in oblivion the former government rule. thus old berber has been long since deserted, and a new berber has been built just to the north of the old town. of course omdurman--the dervish khartum--is by far the most important of all the towns; and being the place of the death and burial of the mahdi, it is quite right that it should be the capital of the kingdom which he founded. just as medina is one of the most holy places of islam, so is it considered advisable to raise omdurman to a similar position. by far the most important and conspicuous structure in omdurman is the mahdi's tomb; and in spite of the khalifa's divergence from his master's views, still he considers it politic to show that he is grateful to his benefactor. his desire was to build a tomb which should excel everything between omdurman and alexandria. it is said that the dome can be seen three days' journey from omdurman, but on this point i am not prepared to give an opinion, as i never went beyond khartum. from here, of course, the dome, rising high above the miserable mud hovels and straw huts, is a most conspicuous object, and it is certainly the tallest of all the buildings in the sudan. abdullah spared no expense in erecting this structure. he first ordered the plans to be drawn out, and selected that of the engineer ismail, who was the architect of the sidi hassan dome at kassala. omar, the former government architect, was lent to ismail to assist him. laying the foundation stone was a great spectacle, and was celebrated with general rejoicing and festivity. enormous crowds collected to witness the ceremony. several people were crushed to death, and were looked upon as fortunate to have died on such a day. the work of construction was now vigorously taken in hand. khartum supplied the materials. thousands of people were sent there, and the work of destruction went on apace. walls were pulled down in order to procure the burnt bricks, which were sent across to omdurman. the corner stones of government house were pulled out and used as the corner stones of the dome. the woodwork was made by carpenter mohammed bornawi. the masons were for the most part egyptians who had learnt their trade in the construction of the mission house and church in khartum; and by them the dervish workmen were instructed how to break down walls without destroying the bricks. the foreman of works was in the habit of secretly chewing tobacco, and one day he rather unguardedly put a piece into his mouth; but he had been observed by some of the dervishes, who fell upon him, knocked him down, and would have torn him to pieces had not wad adlan interposed and taken him off to the steamer, where he concealed him. in the eyes of the dervishes it was an unpardonable crime to chew the forbidden weed whilst working at the dome of the mahdi's tomb. most of the dervishes worked without pay--"fi shan allah" ("for the sake of god"), as they say. a small quantity of dhurra was allowed them; but the masons received pay. lime was obtained from omdurman itself. in order to push forward the work, khalifa abdullah, accompanied by the two other khalifas, and all the emirs and judges, went to the river bank and assisted to carry the stones to the dome. of course the whole town followed them. abdullah put a great stone on his shoulder and marched off with it. the others all followed his example; and in this way it took no time to bring up all the stones required. the khalifa promised the mahdi's blessing to all who assisted in this work; and he solemnly assured the labourers that they should be possessors of as many palaces in paradise as stones which they carried to the dome. the women carried the water required for the work. the tomb is built much in the same style as all mohammedan domes erected to the memory of some holy sheikh. several of the domes in the sudan are made of clay; but the khalifa had determined that the mahdi's dome should be the grandest in the sudan. the mud hut in which the mahdi had died was pulled down, and a square structure about thirty feet high built round the spot, with large windows. above this superstructure rose the dome some eighty feet above the ground. the foundations were laid very deep, and the walls were immensely thick. on the four corners of the superstructure, and just where the dome begins, are four round balls supported on four small pillars. on the summit of the dome are three large balls, the centre one being the largest; and above these again is a gigantic gilt spear-head resting on the balls. the doorway is really a work of art which does credit to sudanese labour. it is painted in bright colours, and was made in the arsenal at khartum; and when it was finished, yakub, the khalifa's brother, himself went to fetch it, and rewarded handsomely the men entrusted with the work. the outside walls of the building are white. at first they attempted to paint the tomb with oil-colours; but as they were not properly prepared, the paint soon peeled off when it was dry, and so they had to be content with simple whitewash. the fanatics said that there had been some evil christian substance mixed with the paint, which prevented it sticking; and by its falling off, it proved that it was not acceptable to the mahdi. the large windows admit a quantity of light into the tomb, which is decorated inside with the most glaring colours. the actual grave is not situated quite in the centre of the building, and is covered by a painted wooden catafalque. to reduce the glare, the windows are well curtained. every night, and all through the night, quantities of candles are kept burning; and it is impossible not to be impressed with the solemnity of the tomb. the walls are so thick that the tropical sun cannot penetrate, and there is always a cool refreshing breeze inside. the rich perfumes with which the tomb is being continually sprinkled fill the air with the most agreeable odours. the surrounding wall, which marks the limits of the mahdi's original enclosure, is so high as to conceal the superstructure on which the dome rests. this tomb means to the sudan moslems what the kaba at mecca means to the thousands of pilgrims who visit it; but pilgrimage is not enjoined to the mahdi's tomb. to come to omdurman is quite sufficient without being obliged to go through various ceremonies. omdurman is detested in the sudan; and no one who is not obliged to live there would stay for a day longer than he could help; and the farther people can distance themselves from it, the better they like it. since the mahdi appeared, pilgrimage to mecca ceased, because, while he was alive, a visit to him was supposed to supply all its advantages. and when he died, a visit to his tomb was supposed to confer even greater benefits than the pilgrimage to mecca. several of the fallata, who came from distant parts of bornu, wadai, &c., were stopped at omdurman when on their way to mecca. thus have the sudanese become schismatic to the orthodox moslem religion, asserting that those who do not believe in the mahdi, even though they be moslems, are unbelievers. now, of course, all these ideas have quite disappeared, and all true friends of islam in the sudan bitterly deplore the present state of affairs. several people used to say to us, "our position is a most miserable one! you christians have nothing to reproach yourselves with on the score of religion, but with us moslems such a state of affairs as the present is too dreadful to contemplate, and we know no rest." a great number of people now repeat, in the privacy of their own homes, the daily prayers, although they have gone all through them in the mosque; but as they do not believe in the mahdi, they consider the prayers said in his mosque to be valueless. quantities of women visit the mahdi's tomb; for, though most of them no longer believe in him as the mahdi, they still look upon him, on account of his great victories, as a saint to whom god has given a great position in the other world because of his holiness. but, after all, these ideas are held for the most part by his enormous circle of relations, whose motives are always somewhat interested. khalifa abdullah did not, however, confine himself only to beautifying the mahdi's tomb. being now the sole monarch, he desired also to beautify his own residence. it will be remembered how, with wad adlan's assistance, he had organized the beit el mal. now, close to the mahdi's tomb, was the great mosque--not a mosque in its usual sense, but an immense yard, which would hold upwards of , men extended in long rows of , . it was roofed in by enormous mats, held up on innumerable forked sticks, which gave it the appearance of a forest. this "rukuba," or kneeling-place, was capable of holding , men, whose murmuring sounded like distant thunder. at first the great enclosing wall was made of mud; but afterwards khalifa abdullah had it pulled down, and a good wall made of burnt bricks and lime. the mihrab, or niche, marking the direction of mecca, in which the mahdi repeated prayers, is situated a little to the east of the centre, and is square in shape with mud walls, and a gable roof, made of iron plates from the khartum arsenal; gates open in the walls on the north, south, east, and west. the mihrab is entered from the west, but is well protected by branches of trees, so as to prevent the ansar from crowding up too close. the floor is sprinkled with fine sand; the khalifa repeats prayers in the big mosque on friday at noon; but he says daily prayers in the rukuba, in which there is a whitewashed platform about six feet high, on which he stands. close to the rukuba is a square building with thatched gable roof supported by two pillars. this is open on three sides, but surrounded by well-carved and painted wooden railings: in this there is a seat about three feet high, in which the khalifa sits when he addresses the ansar. as one leaves the east gate of the rukuba, the khalifa's palace gate is visible, being built quite close to the mosque. the khalifa's palace is known as the "bab," just as the sultan's palace is known as the bab ali, or porte. this palace contains a number of different divisions, all built of mud besmeared with red sand. just within the great gate is the only two-storied house in omdurman, which the khalifa has purposely built in order to overlook the whole town, and from here he can see as far as kererri to the north, and as far as omdurman fort to the south. gordon's ruined palace in khartum is also visible. near the great gate, and close to the outside wall of the mosque, is a building surrounded by wooden railings, in which the judge sits and carries on his court. the khalifa is very fond of going about to different parts of the town, accompanied by crowds of people, and as he found the narrow streets impeded his progress, and detracted from his splendour, he ordered his engineer omar to construct broad straight roads to all the principal places. this necessitated the removal of thousands of mud huts, which were immediately demolished; but i never heard that the proprietors received any indemnity for the losses they sustained. a broad road now leads from the north gate of the mosque to the hejira (or place from which expeditions start) near the khor shambat. this road, as i previously mentioned, is called "the martyr's road." the second large road leads from the west gate of the mosque to the arda (or parade place), and is known as the "darb el arda." a third main road leads to the southern hejira, whence expeditions leave for kordofan, darfur, &c. in addition to these main roads are innumerable winding streets and lanes, to traverse which a guide is absolutely necessary. the great mahdi's dome forms an excellent landmark. the khalifa pays the most special attention to the requisites necessary for war, and for this purpose he has had a large building constructed a little to the south of the mosque, consisting of a large hall supported by pillars, and built of burnt bricks. this is known as the "beit el amana," and it is subdivided into various compartments, in which are stored powder, ammunition, guns, rifles, and other implements of war. this building is entered through a large vaulted gate, and no other houses are allowed to be built near it. it is surrounded by a high wall, and is carefully guarded night and day by detachments of soldiers. within the yard the flags are all firmly planted in the ground, and present the appearance of a small forest of staves. the great black flag of the khalifa abdullah towers high above them all. near the flag yard is a small two-storied building, in which the war-drums are stored, and they are purposely put high up so that they may be heard from a greater distance. in front of the beit el amana is a large open square connected with the mosque by one of the main roads. besides his palace, abdullah possesses a number of other houses, which he visits from time to time. of these one is situated close to the bank of the white nile, and its roof is ornamented with two gigantic hippopotamus heads. he has another house at the beit el mal, from which he can easily reach the river, and embark on one of his steamers to visit his eastern hejira, whence expeditions start for the gezireh, or for abyssinia. and, lastly, he possesses a large house on the arda, or parade ground, and at the northern hejira. in all these houses he keeps up a large establishment of women. omdurman is built almost entirely of mud, the straw huts or tokuls have disappeared. every house-owner surrounds his yard with a wall, in order to keep out thieves and spies with which the city abounds. it is not permitted to build good houses, as they might prove a temptation to their owners to hide money. whenever a man is known to be well off, or prosperous, he is almost certain to have his wealth taken from him. one of the most important places in omdurman is the market, to which a broad road leads from the mosque. it is a place full of life, abounding in buyers and sellers, as well as idlers, who come to tattle and pick up any news they can. the proof that mahdieh is not considered to be a durable régime is evident from the feverish anxiety of everyone to hear the latest news, and the market is the rendezvous for all news-seekers. here are collected merchants from kordofan and the gezireh, from berber, dongola, and sawakin, all earnestly occupied in learning each other's news. it is impossible to give an idea of the wild rumours which are continually flying hither and thither. it is equally impossible to separate the false news from the true. on this account the market is looked upon by the khalifa with the utmost distrust, and he would readily abolish it if he thought it was possible to do so. it consists of a strange medley of shops and stalls, workshops and straw huts. khalifa ali wad helu has been put in charge of the place, he has apportioned special quarters for each variety of goods, and the different marts are now separated off in lines. at night all goods, working tools, &c., are removed, as it would never be safe to leave them there, so that in the daytime the market is the very life of omdurman, while at night it is absolutely empty and deserted. since, however, wad helu has taken it in hand, small brick huts have been run up in which some merchants lock up their goods, and leave them in charge of caretakers. cloth dealers, druggists, greengrocers, salt and meat vendors, all have their special quarters now, as well as gold-and silversmiths, blacksmiths, carpenters, tailors, and barbers. there are also special quarters for public eating-houses, coffee-shops, firewood vendors, builders, and shoemakers. the women have their own separate divisions, and for the last few years men have been forbidden to have any dealings with them. for the settlement of quarrels and disputes which frequently occur in the market, there is a special market court, presided over by a judge, and all delinquents are interned in a large zariba quite open to the sun's burning rays. close to the zariba are three sets of gallows, besides two others in different parts of the town. the gallows are erected close to the market, in the hope that if the executions are seen by the masses, it will have a deterrent effect on crime. the inhabitants of omdurman are a conglomeration of every race and nationality in the sudan: fellata, takruris, natives of bornu, wadai, borgo, and darfur; sudanese from the sawakin districts, and from massawah; niggers as black as ebony, down to a light chocolate colour, niam niam and mombuttu cannibals, bazeh, dinka, shilluk, kara, janghé, nuba, berta, and masalit; arabs of every tribe--baggara, rizeghat, taisha, homr, howazma, miserieh, kababish, habbanieh, degheim, kenana, gowameh, bederieh, beni jerrar, gehena, inhabitants of beni shangul, and of gezireh, shukrieh, batahin, hadarba, hadendoa, barabra, jaalin, danagla, egyptians, abyssinians, turks, mecca arabs, syrians, indians, europeans, jews; and all these various nationalities have their own quarters, and marry into their own tribes and sections. arabic is the universal language, and all free inhabitants of the sudan speak it or corrupt dialects of it. the danagla, barabra, and hadendoa have their own special languages; but being derived from arabic, they are called "rotan," as if arabic were the only original language in the world--the language of adam and eve, and the language of paradise. arabic is not compulsory, so the blacks still talk in their local dialects. the population of omdurman amounts to about one hundred and fifty thousand persons; but it is by no means fixed, for during the winter numbers quit the town and go off into the kordofan or gezireh districts to cultivate. but when the khalifa orders a general assembly, the numbers of course increase considerably. in the city was perhaps larger than at any other time, for in that year the khalifa ordered all the inhabitants of the gezireh to come and live in omdurman. the reason for this was never exactly known, but it was thought he feared a revolt on the part of the ashraf. all the principal towns and villages on the blue nile as far south as karkoj have been destroyed, such as kemlin, messalamieh, wad medina, abu haraz, wad el abbas and rufaa; the inhabitants of all these towns, men, women, and children, under great fatigue, had to come to omdurman, where they settled in the north of the town near khor shambat. all these severe measures quite alienated the people from the khalifa; wives were furious with their husbands for having so abjectly submitted to his yoke, and it was now quite plain that they feared him greatly. one word from him was sufficient to make them pull down their houses, pack up their goods, load them on camels, donkeys, and mules, and transport them to hated and dreaded omdurman. how they longed for the government they had so bitterly abused. "alf turba wala rial tulba" ("thousands of graves are better than a dollar tax") had been their watchword in the beginning of the revolt; it had proved true with a vengeance, and how bitterly they repented of their folly when it was too late! khalifa abdullah now gripped them in the palm of his hand, and the utter disunion and discord which he created between tribes and nationalities, made all hope of future liberty and freedom quite out of the question. those who detested mahdiism prior to had much greater cause to do so in and ; the first of these years brought a terrible famine on the land, and in , though the actual period of want had passed away, everything was excessively dear. the harvest had turned out badly; during the summer of that year the khalifa had issued stringent orders that no one should keep more than one ardeb of dhurra in his own house, under penalty of severe punishment; all over and above that amount was ordered to be brought to the landing-stage at omdurman; and as there were but few transport animals to carry the dhurra into the town, their owners charged exorbitant rates for its carriage, consequently large stores of it lay on the bank, and quantities were stolen. soon the price per ardeb rose from twelve to twenty dollars, and latterly to sixty dollars. even the most aged people, in the whole course of their existence, had never seen such a famine as now fell on the land. continual wars had prevented cultivation, and want of rain into the bargain were the main causes of this terrible calamity. in , when there was a scarcity of rain, the price of dhurra never exceeded sixteen dollars the ardeb, now the price was almost four times as great. the supplies of corn received from fashoda alone saved omdurman from absolute starvation. the supplies from the blue nile were quite exhausted. up to , fashoda continued the supply mart; the native cultivators receiving in exchange glass beads, pieces of copper, iron, cowries, and old medjidie dollars; and in return for all this, the khalifa despatched zeki tummal and an army from galabat, who treacherously murdered their king, and fought these people who had actually saved him and his capital from the jaws of death! the dhurra thus imported to omdurman by the merchants was unloaded there under the strictest watch, and was sold to the baggaras only at six dollars the ardeb, under absolute compulsion, whilst the other tribes had to purchase it at ten times that amount. this called forth the bitterest complaints against the khalifa's injustice. the awful scenes enacted by the starving inhabitants in the market-place at omdurman are beyond description. people flocked from berber, kassala, galabat, and karkoj, thinking that the distress would be less there than it was in the provinces; but here they were quite mistaken. as one walked along, one could count fifty dead bodies lying in the streets, and this quite irrespective of those who died in their own homes. in the provision market the sellers stood over their goods with big sticks in their hands, to turn away the poor wretched skeletons who, with eyes deeply sunk in the back of their heads, would cast wistful glances at the food which was denied them. sometimes twenty or thirty of these miserable starving people would join together, and, regardless of the blows showered upon them, which covered their bodies with wounds and bruises, they would wildly attack the sellers, madly seize whatever they could lay their hands upon, and swallow it on the spot, begrimed with dust, and probably besmeared with their own blood. others would sneak about like wild beasts, their loins covered with the merest rag, and if they saw anyone alone carrying eatables, they would pounce down on him like tigers, content even to seize a handful. these were called "khatafin" (_i.e._ snatchers, or birds of prey), and at first they were fairly successful in their sudden attacks; but gradually people understood what to be prepared for, and the wretched creatures would be beaten off with sticks: hunger seemed to make them insensible to pain. one could see hundreds of these starving people wandering about, mere bags of skin and bone, and almost shapeless; they would eat anything, no matter how repulsive. the skins of the camels which had been killed after the defeat of the kababish and gehena, and which had been used as coverings for the roofs of the houses, were now taken down, roasted, and eaten in that condition. perhaps the most horrible scenes occurred at the places where animals were slaughtered. hundreds of starving men and women would be seen standing around with cups or gourds in their hands, ready to catch the blood before it fell, and then, as the animal would be writhing on the ground in its death-agony, they would fall upon it to catch the blood as it flowed out of its wound, whilst a crowd would be seen struggling on the ground for the few drops which had escaped and become mixed up with the dust and sand; these struggles generally ended in fights, in which the receptacles were broken, and the people besmeared with their contents, which added to the grim ghastliness of this dreadful sight. no power on earth could have restrained these poor sufferers--the pangs of hunger had driven them mad. although famine swept off hundreds, still people poured in from the provinces. male camels and bullocks had become scarce, and the females were now slaughtered without mercy, even should they be with young. old bones of animals were ground to powder and made into a sort of bread, which was eaten with avidity; even the decaying carcases of donkeys were consumed in this terrible struggle for food. but in all this wretched misery the khalifa showed no mercy, pity, or a desire to relieve these terrible sufferings. he took good care that his baggaras should be fed, but for the others he cared not a jot. hunger certainly had the effect of bringing to the front all manner of inventive genius; as it was now no longer possible to rob and steal, the khatafin decided to let the sellers alone, provided they would not hinder them in their attempts to get what they could out of the buyers. omdurman was full of strangers who had no notion of the existence of the "khatafin," and would carelessly go to market to buy their food; but no sooner had they placed their money in the shopman's hands than the "khatafin," with wild yells, would seize the money in a trice, and leave the purchaser standing with empty hands. naturally, the shopmen would not deliver to them the goods, the price of which had been stolen by the "khatafin." one could fill a book with the thousands of strange episodes which occurred during this awful famine. children, deserted by their mothers--poor, wretched, starving little things--would beg in the most pitiful, heart-breaking way for alms. beggars would follow one about till late at night, and would stand about one's house; they would beg for hours even for a grain of food. a poor naked little boy one day broke into our house, crying, "gian gowi!" ("i'm very hungry!") the tone in which it was said, the wistful, sunken eyes, and the wretched condition of the boy, could not but excite our pity, though hundreds of beggars had been turned away before he came; we fed him, and he survived the terrible year of famine, but he had forgotten his name, so we always called him "gian gowi." often did i see poor little skeletons of infants trying to get nourishment from their dead mother's breasts. the following instance will give the reader some insight into the horrors of this famine. one day a poor woman came to me with three starving children; she carried one in each arm, while the eldest clung to her skirt, the whole four looked like wandering skeletons. with a voice of agonised supplication, which could come from a mother only, she earnestly begged me to take the boy and feed him, and that if he survived he could remain for ever my slave. here was a poor mother who preferred to see her child a slave than to look on whilst he died of starvation before her eyes. this touched me to the very heart, but i could not accept the offer, for i had scarcely enough food for myself, so i dismissed her with a handful of dhurra. the next day the mother came with one child less, and the third day she came with one child only; and at last she came alone, saying that she was now going to follow her three loved children. after that i never saw her again. if grief did not kill her, hunger must certainly have claimed her as a victim. one day a girl presented herself before the judge of the market court, and reported that her mother had roasted her little brother and eaten him, and that now she had run away, as she was afraid she might suffer the same fate. the kadi at once sent some soldiers with the girl to seize the unnatural mother; they found a poor half-starved woman with an ear and a piece of a leg. she was taken before the kadi, and took a solemn oath that the only child she ever had was the girl; she was immediately interned in the zariba, and the matter reported to the grand kadi, who ordered the leg and ear to be exposed on the gallows. even the savage blacks, who were hardened by constant warfare, were impressed with the horror of the poor woman's action, and crowded round the zariba to gaze at her; but it was soon discovered that the wretched creature was raving mad, so the khalifa pardoned her, but she died a few days afterwards. it was never safe for children to appear in the streets at night, or they would certainly have been seized by the starving people. one evening i heard a cry at my door, and myself and several neighbours at once ran out to see what was the matter. we saw a man dragging a boy away: we at once gave chase, and the man dropped the boy and fled; he intended to have a good meal off the boy that night. during the famine several sold themselves or their children into slavery; but when it was all over, the khalifa ordered all such to be set free without remuneration to their masters. dervishes, who had heaped insults on the turks during the siege of el obeid for eating donkeys, and other unclean animals, were now feeling heaven's vengeance, for not only did they eat unclean animals, but their own children as well. there were so many dead bodies about that it was not possible to bury them all. at first they used to bury them within the city, but the khalifa put a stop to this, and they were then taken out to the north-west side, and up to this day, if anyone walks in that direction he will find the plain scattered with innumerable skulls and human bones, which lie there glistening in the sun, as white as snow; the driving sand and burning sun have polished them like glass. how many dead bodies were carried away by the nile, god only knows; if people thought of it i do not think they would ever eat any more fish, for the fish must have had a surfeit of human flesh. the scent of the dead bodies brought hyenas everywhere, and they became so bold that they would come almost up to my door. as for the vultures, their name was legion, but even they with the help of the hyenas were unable to consume all the bodies. let us leave omdurman for a moment and trace the course of the famine in the provinces. in dongola and berber the price of dhurra rose to one hundred dollars an ardeb. the entire districts between omdurman and berber had become depopulated. in a hut might be found a man, his wife and children all lying dead on their angaribs. even in the salt districts near shendi, almost the entire population had died of hunger. in kassala and galabat matters were even worse; here the price of an ardeb had gone up to two hundred and fifty dollars, and even for this enormous price it was almost impossible to get it, for there was really none in the country. the great shukrieh tribe had eaten almost all their camels, and its numbers had dwindled from forty thousand to four thousand souls. the large tribe of wad zayid (the debaineh) in the neighbourhood of gedaref, who for his opposition to mahdiism had been thrown into prison in omdurman, had become almost extinct. the population of kassala, galabat, and gedaref had dwindled almost to nothing. zeki tummal, to obtain food for his troops, had mercilessly robbed the corn merchants and compelled them to give up their very last supplies; he left them without even a handful. around galabat the hyenas became so bold that they would sneak into the villages almost before the sun was down and drag off the wretched half-dead people. out of zeki's force of eighty-seven thousand souls before the famine there remained, after it was over, only ten thousand, including women and children. karkoj and sennar, which were generally called the granaries of the sudan, were desolated by famine. it was, indeed, heaven's terrible retribution on a people who had practised untold cruelties and shed rivers of innocent blood. so great was the distress that it became a general saying that any one who did not die in would never die; and this year, corresponding to the year moslem era, will remain engraven for ever on the minds of those who went through the famine in the sudan and had the good fortune to survive it. when the first supplies of the new harvest reached the market, there was the most heartfelt joy throughout the country, and every one congratulated his neighbour on the termination of their distress; but even the new harvest was not good, and dhurra did not go below twenty-four dollars the ardeb. the locusts did much harm to the harvest, and this plague has devastated the land now for nearly four years. there are two sorts of locusts, the yellow and the bright red, and they have infested the whole country from kordofan to dongola and to tokar. they came in such swarms that at times the sun was obscured; on one occasion they passed through omdurman, and took from two to three hours to do so. the rushing sound they made alarmed the people greatly, and wherever they established themselves they left the place completely bare. they demolished the hard palm leaves so completely that it seemed as if they had been cut with a pair of scissors; even the bark of the trees they did not spare. where-ever they settle they look like a big cloud, which completely covers streets, roofs, and walls. sudanese, as a rule, sleep out of doors, so that their beds were covered as well, and as soon as one swarm was driven off another settled. locusts are considered by the sudanese as a great delicacy, and when well roasted in butter they taste like fried fish; the locusts generally came between june and september, just when the harvest is ripening or the new crops sprouting after the rains. there is no attempt made to destroy their eggs. another plague was mice: these little animals, which are of a reddish colour, came in such quantities as to drive the cultivators to despair. no sooner was the seed in the ground than the mice had rooted it up and eaten it. often the fields had to be planted two and three times over; and then when a heavy rain came the mice would all be drowned, and as the water subsided the ground would be covered with the dead bodies of these little animals. it seemed as if the entire sudan lay under a curse. the people knew it too, and looked upon it as god's righteous judgment on them for the evil deeds they had been prompted to do at the instigation of a wicked and false mahdi. chapter xvii. the khalifa and his government. the khalifa's system of government--his household--an outline of his character--his system of prayers in the mosque--his visions and dreams--his espionage system--his household troops--his great activity and circumspection--the great friday review described--the emigration of the baggara and western tribes to omdurman--the flight of sheikh ghazali--management of the beit el mal--system of taxation. this chapter i propose to devote to a brief description of khalifa abdullah and his system of government. abdullah is a baggara of dark chocolate-coloured complexion, with a long and prominent nose; he wears a short beard cut according to the moslem custom. when i first saw him at the siege of el obeid he was very thin, but now he is extremely stout, and his skin hangs in great folds underneath his eyes; he has a strong clear voice, and though well instructed in arabic, he cannot conceal his baggara dialect and accent. his dress consists of the usual dervish jibbeh and drawers, he also wears sandals, and over his jibbeh, which is generally reeking with grease and fat, he wears a tob or light cotton cloth; on his head is the usual mecca takia, round which a turban is bound. as regards food, the khalifa is more moderate and simple than the mahdi; he still adheres to his native dishes--asida (a sort of polenta), eaten with milk or meat, over which a strong sauce full of spices and pepper is poured. sometimes he eats roasted chicken and drinks quantities of milk and sugar, especially camels' milk, to which all baggaras are devoted. he has no fixed hours for food, but eats whenever he feels so inclined; and it is perfectly astonishing the amount of food which a sudanese can consume at a sitting. like his master the mahdi and all important persons in the sudan, the khalifa is much addicted to harem life. shortly after he had established himself as supreme ruler, he thought to surround himself with all the pomp and splendour of a sudanese sultan, of which the most important item is a very extensive harem. as the mahdi had done before, so did he take to himself numbers of wives. wherever a pretty woman is to be found, he at once gets information about her from his spies, and she is immediately brought to the harem. each of his wives has her own house, kitchen, and slaves quite apart from the rest, consequently the expenditure of his household is considerable. his first wife is head of all the other wives, who now number one hundred and fifty. she is a baggara woman, and is waited on by numbers of eunuchs, who were formerly in the service of the turkish and egyptian pashas; and although the making of eunuchs is strictly prohibited by mahdi law, nevertheless the khalifa secretly employs numbers of persons who arrange to supply eunuchs when required. the chief eunuch is a certain abdel gayum, who is head of the entire household. he has under his orders numbers of female slaves, who grind dhurra and prepare the food; it is estimated that three ardebs of dhurra a day are consumed in the khalifa's household. abdullah is endowed by nature with a good constitution, but his irregular mode of life has gone far to destroy it. twice he has had severe attacks which have all but killed him; on both occasions he was delirious, and his body became enormously distended. the last time he was ill all hope of his recovery had been given up, and the doctor who was attending him, and had given him a purgative, was on the point of being beheaded, when at the last moment the medicine took effect, and was the happy means of saving the lives of both the khalifa and his doctor. the khalifa's illnesses are always kept secret, so that whenever he fails to attend prayers, it is generally thought that he is sick. fifteen days after the last crisis, and when all danger was over, abdullah summoned the other two khalifas and the judges to show them that he had recovered, whereupon khalifa ali at once offered up a prayer of thanksgiving, though, if his real feelings had been analysed, it would have been found that he was anything but thankful. after leaving abdullah, the khalifas announced to the people in the mosque that he had been very dangerously ill, but that god in his mercy had spared him. this news was the signal for a wild shout of delight, which reached the khalifa's ears and pleased him not a little. eight days afterwards he appeared for the first time in the mosque, then the rejoicings knew no bounds, and the shouts were heard miles off; all the emirs congratulated him on his recovery, and the air resounded with the cries of "allah etawil omrak!" ("may god prolong your life!") all this flattery pleased the khalifa immensely, and this eye-service is a particularly highly-developed characteristic of the sudanese. and now a few words as to the khalifa's character: he is an intensely vain and proud man, very cruel and quick-tempered. occasionally his ideas are good, but he is surrounded by so many fanatics that his ideas, however good they may be, generally die almost before they are born. he is of a most distrustful nature, because he knows he is surrounded by enemies--thus he is a curious mixture of resolution and inconstancy. he listens eagerly to calumnies, and delights in hearing evil spoken of other people; this causes his decisions to be changeable and capricious; he is guided a good deal by what low slanderers tell him, but they have to watch his temper very closely, and have become great adepts at humouring him. he is fearful and jealous of his authority, and the very smallest infringement of it is looked upon as a most serious crime and punished accordingly. he has surrounded himself with spies, who pander to his jealous and tyrannical nature. these spies are everywhere, they get into private houses, attend every meeting, and often start a discussion against the khalifa and against mahdiism, merely to draw the unwary into a trap and make them divulge their real feelings and opinions. he is told about the most trivial thing, and sometimes during his speeches and sermons he will give way to the wildest denunciation of his unfavourable critics. he knows perfectly well that he is hated, but he will never allow it to be said openly; for, though he cares little whether he is liked or disliked, he does not wish anything to intervene between him and his authority. the khalifa adheres most strictly to the prescribed forms of prayer; every day he attends five times in the mosque and enforces the presence of all the principal emirs. he does not like the ansar to get into comfortable and luxurious modes of life, but insists on their always being hardened and in readiness to withstand the fatigues of war; all prayers end with the "fatha,"[n] after which is an invocation for the victory of religion, the long life of the khalifa, and the continual success of his arms; then follows a prayer calling down god's vengeance on unbelievers and those who have erred from the paths of mahdiism, and asking that their wives and children may be given as booty to the true believers; at the end of the prayers the whole congregation joins in a loud "amen." after afternoon and evening prayers, the khalifa generally holds short political conversations, in which the affairs of the empire and of the capital are discussed; he receives his emirs and gives them instructions; he frequently gives discourses from the place in which he repeats prayers, and sometimes turns and addresses in the most benevolent manner those who are gathered around him with heads bent in obedient submission. if he bears any one a grudge, he never attempts to conceal it, but refers to it in the most open manner in the mosque, when the culprit generally comes hurriedly forward, throws himself at his feet, and implores forgiveness: if he fails to do this, he is generally threatened with imprisonment. the mosque is at the same time both barracks and prison, for here he teaches his followers humbleness, obedience, and submission. he frequently repeats his orders that all should be most punctual in their attendance at the mosque, and if, when the appointed hour comes, people are found in the streets, they are invariably flogged and carried off to the zariba. this is the way the khalifa tests the obedience of his people, and assures himself that they are at all times ready to obey his smallest behest. the highest punishment possible for an absentee is that he shall attend regularly at the mosque five times a day for eighteen months, under a police guard, who is as a rule a baggara, and who never lets him out of his sight. a man under such a sentence may, if he have money, pay a fine or bribe his guard; but if he cannot do this he must attend, no matter how far off his house may be. some unfortunate people who live a long way off spend their whole day in going backwards and forwards between their dwellings and the mosque. the emirs even, if they neglect this order, are very severely dealt with. this enforced attendance at prayers has greatly added to the unpopularity of the khalifa, for work is being continually interrupted, and all real feelings of religion are subverted. formerly every important emir and fiki had his own rukuba, in which he prayed with his own people; but the khalifa put a stop to this, fearing that all such meetings would have a tendency to conspiracy and mutiny. he himself is much more a supporter of authority than of religion, but he induces the former through the latter. personally, he cares little for religion. all his absurd dreams and imaginary visions only make him a laughing-stock of the people, and he is considered by the orthodox moslems to be an absolute heretic. on one occasion, when his spies reported to him that he was very unpopular, and that it was the general wish that he should die, he withdrew for three days. this considerably alarmed the people, for they had no notion what form of revenge he might not be preparing for them. at the end of this period he reappeared, and from his place in the mosque he announced as follows:-- "i have been taken in the spirit to the third heaven, where i beheld the mahdi, the prophet elias, and jesus christ; when i saluted the mahdi, he introduced me at once to the two prophets; the prophet elias had a very ruddy and sunburnt appearance, and took me very roughly by the hand; but the prophet jesus was white and soft as wool. these two prophets were pleased to know me, and i represented to the mahdi that i had no desire to quit this pleasant heaven; i begged him, therefore, to send some one to rule my people instead of me, as i was tired and exhausted by trying to govern people who did not care for me; but the mahdi told me not to lose heart, and that he would give me power to please all; the mahdi also told me that he was quite satisfied with my ruling. he afterwards took me into the presence of god, who also showed pleasure at knowing the khalifa of the mahdi." all true moslems who heard this extraordinary tissue of lies were very angry that he should dare to take god's name in vain in this way, and thoroughly understood his reasons for having such absurd and blasphemous pretensions. on another occasion he was told that the two khalifas were very dissatisfied with his arbitrary ruling, and resented being excluded from a share in the government of the country. this induced another vision, in which he declared that the mahdi had told him he should live eight years more, after which the prophet jesus would appear. in this way he gave them to understand that they had not much hope of being given any authority; but this vision appeared to have exactly the opposite effect on the khalifas, who became more clamorous than ever. he therefore instructed his "vision secretary" to withdraw this vision from circulation, and added that should any one ever be heard talking on this subject again, he would be punished by the loss of a hand and a foot. and then he tried to justify his action by declaring that it was the fault of his secretaries, who had put an entirely different construction on the vision to what he had intended, and indeed to what he had actually seen! after noonday prayers he ordered extracts to be read from the book dealing with the early wars of islam. this was quite a new departure. to keep any book on religion or religious history, it was necessary, in the first instance, to obtain the khalifa's permission; and indeed it was very difficult to keep any such books safe from the wild fanaticism of the dervishes. it was the mahdi's intention to destroy, as far as possible, everything which would serve to remind his people of the old days, so that they should believe the more readily in his revelations only. the khalifa will not accept written petitions, as he himself cannot read. if any one has a complaint to make, he must call out, as the khalifa enters the mosque for prayers, "khalifat el mahdi!" or "sidi!" or he may cry out, "ya sidi ana mazlum!" ("master, i am oppressed!") abdullah then listens to what he has to say, and decides the matter. whether the decision be favourable or not to the complainant, he must be satisfied with it. gifts and alms are frequently besought of the khalifa, chiefly because he is not of such a benevolent nature as the mahdi, and moreover, he has less to dispose of than his predecessor. if the khalifa does not at once dispose of a case that is brought before him, it is a sure sign that he has no intention of giving a decision on it, and woe to him who dares to again bring forward the question! abdullah gets very angry if he is interrupted when speaking. the various expressions of content, restlessness, and revenge are so clearly portrayed on his face that one seldom mistakes the frame of mind he is in at any particular time, though he often vainly tries to conceal his actual feelings. there are some people in omdurman who make the expressions of the khalifa's face their study, and are wonderful adepts at knowing what is passing in his mind. they listen attentively to every word he says, and their estimates of his moods go the round of their friends, but are often rather distorted in course of transmission. these thought-readers assign causes to his various moods, which they put down to a variety of reasons, such as ill-health, a disaster, or a quarrel with one of his many wives. all these reports spread at once throughout the country, and one would think that the people had nothing else to do but to discuss the khalifa and every incident of his daily life. and perhaps this is not to be wondered at, since he exercises so indiscriminately the powers of life and death. one word from the khalifa is able to rouse up the energies of all those spies whose special duty it is to report the smokers and marissa-drinkers. the liberal payment to them of bribes by these law-breakers occasionally serves to make them neglect their duties; but should the khalifa wish to replenish the waning supplies of the beit el mal, the reporting of a few delinquents rapidly fills the exchequer again. the khalifa is a man of great activity, and personally directs all important matters. he receives reports on the most trivial affairs, and is always overwhelmed with business. this, however, helps to keep him in health, and prevents him leading a life of sensual ease to which his inclinations undoubtedly tend. he has nothing but his activity to thank for the fact that he is still alive, though during the last few years he has greatly deteriorated in this respect, consequent on his indulging more than usual his uxorious appetites. after morning prayers he generally takes a short sleep, and during the remainder of the day he is busy with the affairs of state. posts are continually coming and going; and the telegraph having been destroyed, a camel postal service has been organised, but is exclusively used for official letters. any one who wishes to send private letters must do so through the intermediary of merchants and travellers. after the day's work is over, the khalifa delights in gossiping till late in the night, surrounded by his emirs and judges. sometimes just before midnight he will again enter the mosque, and will summon the poets to sing his praises. he delights in music, and keeps a number of dar fertit and niam niam singers, who accompany themselves on the rubaba (a sort of native guitar), and their strange and weird melodies delight the khalifa's soul. these native musicians have a sort of school of music, in which they practise all day; but they never seem to learn anything new. abdullah is by no means a ruler in name only. his palace is crowded with male and female servants, slaves, eunuchs, and young boys, who continually wait upon him, and carry after him the inevitable "ibrik." one slave is especially told off to carry the "farwa" or sheepskin to the mosque. the other servants are called mulazimin, and act rather in the capacity of spies than personal attendants. a good or bad word from them has no small weight with the khalifa. of course they are all submission to their master; and if they have been brought up in the khalifa's service, when the time comes he permits them to marry, and gives them a horse as well--the two things they long for most. the khalifa has also his special barber, who is a slave; and his master of the horse, who is an immensely tall dinka. he has also a sort of giant slave who lifts him on and off his horse. his life-guards consist of black slaves armed with remington rifles, who always accompany the khalifa whenever he rides out. they wear a very short jibbeh--not unlike a soldier's tunic--and short knickerbockers. amongst them are about taisha and homr arabs, whose special duty is to prevent any one approaching the khalifa's person. to further add to his prestige, he has also appointed an honourable council, composed of all the principal sheikhs of the great sudan tribes. his mulazimin el bab, or "household cavalry," are obliged to be in continual attendance at the great gate of the palace, and never quit their posts until abdullah has retired for the night. he occasionally selects one or two of their principal officers to despatch on important missions into the provinces. the household cavalry rank next to the judges in the mosque precedence. if any man seek employment, he must attend at the mosque at prayer-time and humbly make known his request to the khalifa; and if he wishes to succeed, he must not be sparing in the lavishness of the compliments with which he prefaces his demand. the khalifa is specially open to such eye-service, and always selects for his servants persons who possess this qualification in a marked degree. the business affairs of state are conducted by an army of clerks, of whom the most influential are fauzi, muntasser, abu el gharem, and ahmed; these are all men who possess a good knowledge of arabic, and know something of history and the moslem laws; they read all incoming letters to the khalifa, and answer them in accordance with his directions; one of these clerks is his special seal-bearer; all letters are supposed to be strictly confidential, as well as the deliberations and discussions of the council. if he ever mentions a matter in public, in which he conveys blame or censure, then it is understood that this is merely a warning; if he wishes to inflict punishment, then the culprit is seized unawares, and the chastisement or imprisonment inflicted without further ado; thus does he bring the men of the sudan low before him, and tramples on their necks. abdullah specially delights in a display of magnificence; whenever large expeditions start from any of the hejiras, he generally proceeds there in the afternoon, returning in the evening. latterly he has made fewer of these excursions, as much work and an irregular life are beginning to tell upon him. he never announces beforehand what he intends to do, but just before noonday prayers the onbeïa is sounded, and a herald shouts "khalifat el mahdi yerkab" ("the khalifa of the mahdi is about to ride out"); then everyone who owns a horse prepares to mount and accompany him. the horses in omdurman have become so accustomed to the sound that whenever they hear the onbeïa they begin to neigh and prance, as if rejoicing in the honour of being allowed to join the khalifa's ride. immediately after prayers the giant slave puts him on his horse, and as he proceeds, hundreds of horsemen and thousands of men on foot follow him shouting and showing all the signs of joy. he always carries a large spear, and is little different from other riders. these latter do not march quietly behind, but continually dash forward in groups of four and eight, their spears poised to strike, then suddenly pull up and re-enter the ranks; this "fantasia" delights the mob, who shout the most violent applause. during these excursions the khalifa observes carefully all that is going on around him and what the people are doing. on one occasion, when he rode to the beit el mal and was surveying the mighty river, a woman wearing man's clothes was brought to him from a ship close by. in reply to the khalifa's question what she was doing, she said she was preparing the crew's food; he then asked if she was married, and she said no, thereupon he began joking and presented her to wad adlan; but the latter, seeing that she was neither young nor pretty, readily answered that he was already possessor of the four lawful wives. the khalifa could not of course violate the law, so he summoned the captain of the ship and insisted on him marrying this old creature on the spot; he also casually remarked that the sailors had a noggara (copper drum) on board, and he immediately gave a general order that no drums were to be allowed on board boats. on another occasion he noticed a very thick cloud of smoke, and on inquiry he found that it came from a soap manufactory; he therefore immediately issued orders that the soap monopoly rested with the beit el mal, and that any other manufactory was prohibited. in this way he deprived numbers of people of a means of livelihood. one day he remarked a large heap of sewage in the centre of the town, which spread a most foul odour all around; this was the cause of the khalifa himself stating in the mosque that if, when he inspected the town three days hence, he found any refuse, the trespassers should be very severely punished. everyone now became directly responsible for the cleanliness of his own dwelling and its vicinity, and this order had a most excellent effect; it was further enforced by the presence of horsemen, who took good care to see that the instructions were carefully carried out. the khalifa also went so far as to order that if any impurity should be found in the public streets, the owner of the defiled place should carry it away himself with his own hands to the appointed place. this was a cause of great delight to the street-arabs, who heaped insults on the disgraced individual by shouting after him "shalhu!" ("he has taken it away!") but as it was with the mahdi, so it is with the khalifa--at first orders are obeyed with the greatest alacrity, and then people get as careless as ever. omdurman at the present time is by no means a particularly clean or sanitary town. the occasions on which the khalifa appears in the greatest splendour are when he rides to parade. in accordance with the mahdi's orders, these reviews have always taken place on fridays, no matter what the weather may be, rain, sunshine, or sandstorm. the review, or "arda," as it is called, is a religious ceremony, and those who take part in it are supposed to obtain special blessings and advantages. the mahdi of course wanted to keep up the martial spirit of his followers, and therefore he based his reviews on religious grounds. sometimes khalifa abdullah is absent from these parades, in which case his brother yakub takes his place. [illustration: a trophy of arms, banners and drums captured from the dervishes.] on parade days the great war-drums begin beating two hours before sunrise, and the slaves whose duty it is to beat them have two varieties of cadence, whilst a small drum beaten in quick time completes the call to arms. the people apply all sorts of expressions to the beating in quick time, such as "nakelkum" or "naktulkum" ("we will eat you up," or "we will kill you"), _i.e._ their enemies. in the stillness of the night these drums are heard a very long way off, and in the terrible times of the mahdi wars their weird and monotonous roll created a most sad and depressing effect on me. immediately after morning prayers the leaders proceed to the flag yard, each takes his flag, and they all stand in line in the open space in front of the beit el amana. the flags of the khalifas abdullah and ali wad helu are kept quite apart. khalifa sherif seldom goes out, and keeps himself as much as possible from appearing anywhere in public with abdullah, with whom he is on very bad terms, because he has been deprived of all authority. the four drum-beaters stand in front of the flags, and gradually the followers all collect round their respective leaders. as soon as the sun rises they begin shouting, and then march to the parade ground. arrived here, the flags are all placed in line. the horsemen follow yakub or any other person whom the khalifa may delegate. the ansar are drawn up in a long line facing eastwards, and all the people immediately rush to get into the various divisions to which they belong. then the onbeïa sounds to indicate that the great master himself is arriving; this is the signal for all those who have stayed behind, attempting to shirk parade, to rush helter-skelter to the ranks, as the khalifa gets very angry unless the review is well attended. he is generally mounted on a very good camel led by wad beshir; he sits with drawn sword, and moves very slowly, surrounded by his black life-guards formed in square. the four onbeïa-blowers march just in front, and take it in turns to sound the great elephant's tusk. behind the khalifa follow the mulazimin riding. arrived on parade he first inspects the whole line, and occasionally performs some cavalry manoeuvres in the hills which stretch towards kererri. these hills are supposed to be the abode of the jinns,[o] who are said to be the khalifa's auxiliaries in battle, and he frequently indulges in visions, retiring into a small hut, while the ansar have to stand outside waiting for hours in the burning sun. at length he gives the signal to march off; again the flags unite in two groups, followed by the shouting dervishes. the horsemen keep dashing round the flanks to see that no one goes away. all must march back to the beit el amana, where they await the khalifa's arrival to be dismissed. the orders respecting the arms and equipment to be carried by the ansar on parade are all strictly adhered to; everyone must carry at least three spears, _i.e._ one large and two small ones; also a sword, which is slung round the shoulder, and a girth as well; anyone appearing deficient of any of these articles is flogged. at large festivals the reviews are most imposing. months before, orders are sent in all directions for the ansar to assemble. on these occasions there are generally about , horsemen. the khalifa, wearing a suit of mail armour and a helmet, is generally mounted on a good charger, and is surrounded by some horsemen, also clad in mail, wearing helmets and greaves; the horses also wear brass head-armour lined with thickly-quilted stuffs, which are intended to protect from sword-cuts. the riders wear thick red turbans, which they wind round the helmet, and then tie tightly under the chin, thus leaving only very little of their face exposed; they also wear red girdles, which they throw over their shoulders. the combination of red with the dark baggara complexion is peculiarly effective, and gives them a most martial appearance. the red turban and girdle are entirely the khalifa's idea. at first the horses were not shod, but recently abdullah ordered some thousands of horse-shoes to be made in the arsenal. the wild excitement and confusion prevailing on these occasions can readily be understood. the guns are all brought out, arms distributed amongst the ansar, and the shouting and yelling is endless; crowds of horsemen dash hither and thither at a wild gallop, raising clouds of dust. horses and horsemanship are a great delight to the sudanese; the best breeds are from dongola and abyssinia. at one time there were quantities in darfur, and there was no difficulty in raising , of them, but since mahdiism has fallen on the land the numbers have greatly decreased. every horse-owner is entitled to half an ardeb of dhurra from the beit el mal. the reviews which i have just described tend to keep alive enthusiasm, and also to intimidate those who are secretly opposed to the khalifa, and whom the sight of such numbers of foot-and horsemen cannot fail to impress. the best riders are the khalifa's own countrymen--the baggaras--who are brought up on horses from their early childhood. the khalifa has craftily arranged that all horses remain in the hands of the baggaras. at first not many of this tribe joined the mahdi, they preferred to remain in their own happy hunting-grounds, rearing horses, and living in unfettered liberty in their great plains and forests, and in consequence the arabs nicknamed them "arab el shedera" (arabs of the forests), but when the khalifa succeeded to supreme power, he thought that his authority would be considerably strengthened by collecting his own countrymen around him. after conquering sultan yusef, of darfur, the khalifa ordered osman wad adam to gather his own countrymen--the taisha--nearer omdurman. the youthful osman gave to those wild nomads a most glowing account of the magnificent countries near the nile, and of the khalifa's enormous power and authority, and to prove the truth of what he said, he showed them all sorts of glittering dollars, and various kinds of cloths; nor did he rest until he at last persuaded them to leave their homes. they set out with all their movable property--women, children, and flocks--all bound for omdurman; they plundered the inhabitants of the various countries through which they passed, and forcibly seized their camels for transport. the dar hameda tribe alone, through whose country they passed, lost , camels. when they reached el obeid, a special tax was levied for their maintenance, but, quite regardless of this, they broke into the houses, and laid hands on all they could find. from el obeid they passed on to tayara and shatt, whence the khalifa had them conveyed in steamers to omdurman. there were, in all, , warriors, exclusive of women and children; their arrival in omdurman was viewed with a certain amount of alarm, and not without reason. as the arnauts and the bashi bazuks were utilized by the government in the old days, so were the taisha to be now utilised under the khalifa's rule; he favoured them in every possible way, the beit el mal was made responsible for their maintenance and pay. after they had partially settled down, and some had been given the richest patches on the nile banks, as well as several of the islands, the others were then removed to berber, abu hamed, dongola, and the gezireh. in all these places they very soon made themselves masters of the situation, and the khalifa gave them the most important government posts to fill; but notwithstanding all this favoured treatment, still they were not content: the more they had, the more they wanted. upwards of , of them deserted from omdurman, to proceed to their own country; but they were overtaken, and, as an example to the remainder, the right hand and left foot of three of them were cut off, though it was with the greatest reluctance that he ever punished his own countrymen in this way. two hundred of the deserters were put in prison, where some of them died in a few days: the horrors of this prison so impressed these wild children of the desert, that to this day they tremble at the thought of it. the sheikh of the taisha was a man named ghazali, who was by no means happy in his new position; and though he was well received by abdullah, still he could not brook the feeling of being under the authority of a man who at one time had been one of his lowest menials. it was reported to the khalifa that he was discontented, he was therefore summoned before him, and addressed as follows:-- "when you were sheikh in your own country, were we not obliged to kiss your hand, and show you all reverence and respect? yes: and it was quite right to do so. but now god has placed me over you as your master, then why do you now refuse to give me the same honour and respect which you required of your own subjects when you were in a similar position?" ghazali made no reply, but then and there decided to run away. this showed a spirit of independence which had been dead amongst the arabs for centuries, and to find it we have to go back to the time of saladin. sheikh ghazali was a man who knew no fear, and he confided his plans to his wife and daughter, and they--far from deterring him--rather encouraged him to carry it out. his wife saddled his horse, and urged him rather to die than to submit to a position so far beneath him. ghazali, accompanied by two of his relatives, mounted his horse in the middle of the night; without shedding a tear, his wife bade him farewell, and wished him all success in his undertaking. in order to put his enemies off his track, he at first went in a northerly direction till just below kererri, then turned south-west, and made for kordofan. but ghazali made a fatal mistake in using horses for such an enterprise, for, winter being over, there was a scarcity of water in the desert; it would have been far better had he used camels. the poor man had to pay dearly for his error. scarcely was he out of omdurman than one of his own tribesmen reported his flight to the khalifa, who became very angry, cursed the taisha for their ingratitude, and ordered the fugitives to be pursued at once. they searched the desert around omdurman in every direction, and, thinking they must have taken camels, they did not at first take any notice of the horses' tracks, but eventually they decided to follow up the latter, and were soon convinced that they were on the fugitives' heels. some distance after leaving kererri, they came up with the horses which ghazali and his companions, owing to their fatigue, had abandoned, and had continued their flight on foot. the pursuers were now two days distant from omdurman, and were on the point of giving up the chase, when they heard a shot fired from a thickly-wooded khor. it was ghazali, who, suffering greatly from thirst, had separated from his companions in search of water; he had been digging about in the sand, and, discovering the longed-for liquid, he had fired a shot to let his companions know he had been successful. this shot was his betrayer; the pursuers rushed to the spot, surrounded him, and although he killed and wounded several, he was overpowered and fell riddled with bullets. his head was cut off, for the khalifa had given orders that on no account was he to be brought back alive. his two relations submitted, and were subsequently pardoned by the khalifa, who is always more lenient to his own tribesmen than to others. ghazali's head was brought to omdurman, and thrown amongst the heap of "unbelievers'" heads. there is no doubt that if ghazali had succeeded in regaining his own country, he would have become a dangerous rival to abdullah. most of the taisha infinitely prefer the liberty of their native forests to holding high posts in omdurman, and would have rejoined ghazali in large numbers. one of the most important measures taken by the khalifa to get all power into his own hands was his attempt to gain possession of all firearms. he had over and over again given orders that any one found with a gun would be punished by the loss of a hand and a foot, and, of course, the natural result was that every one feared to deliver up his gun, dreading the punishment which would inevitably follow. this plan having failed, the khalifa then ordered two jew merchants to buy up all firearms for the beit el mal, and the people having no fear of jews freely sold them. in this way about , remington rifles were secured: in a like manner the khalifa got possession of the coats of mail; but, as may well be imagined, the jews did not make much profit out of the business. they were put into chains for eight months, and had to pay back a considerable sum of money as well. thus did the khalifa gradually concentrate all power in himself. the emin beit el mal is obliged to give him a daily statement showing all revenue and expenditure; the sheikh es suk (or sheikh of the market) has to render a daily report of everything that has taken place in the market, and the chief judge must keep the khalifa fully informed of all important cases which come under his notice. the khalifa reserves to himself the powers of life and death, although the judge passes the sentence. every province has a governor or emir, _i.e._ dongola, berber, galabat, karkoj, gezireh, fashoda, kordofan, lado, and jebel regaf. all these emirs are baggara, and have several emirs under their commands. each emir has his own beit el mal, and has the power of appointing his own emin beit el mal and kadi (judge). the emir is the supreme civil and military governor of his province, and is entirely responsible for its administration. the beit el mal at omdurman is known as the "beit el mal el um[^u]m," and the head of it gives orders direct to all his provincial assistants. each emir is obliged to report all events of importance to the khalifa, they are frequently summoned to omdurman to give an account of their administration, and to take the khalifa's instructions. abdullah watches most carefully all events in frontier provinces, such as dongola, berber, &c., and spies, disguised as merchants, are continually sent to egypt to get the arabic newspapers, which are always read to the khalifa by his secretaries. an emir should never pay a visit to omdurman empty-handed, or he is likely to fall into serious disgrace. in addition to the emirs are the omala (tax-gatherers), who visit the provinces annually and collect the ushr (one-tenth) and the zeka (alms for the poor, two and a-half per cent.). these appointments are let to the holders at an enormous rate--several thousand dollars a year. the omala have to cover all their own expenses, which they do, and get a very considerable profit besides. it is therefore apparent that the inhabitants are grievously oppressed. the emirs and omala act in the most arbitrary manner in their own provinces; their will is absolute, and horrible systems of cruelty prevail everywhere. one of the omala, wad hamdu allah, by way of extorting money from a man, bound his hands so tightly behind his back that when released they remained quite powerless. the poor man went to omdurman to seek redress, and the khalifa, on the principle of "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth," ordered that the amil's hands should be cut off, or that he should pay the injured man a sum of money. the man, of course, chose the latter, as the cutting off of his oppressor's hands could not have done him any practical good; so he received dollars compensation and four slaves. but this is an exceptional case; as a rule these cruelties seldom reach the khalifa's ears, and if the instigator of the crime is a baggara it is never noticed. the khalifa's brother yakub is his principal supporter. he and abdullah are not of the same mother, and yakub is a few years the senior; he has a somewhat lighter complexion, but if possible he is even more cruel than his brother, and is in charge of the harem. the two brothers work entirely together, and abdullah, being satisfied with yakub's integrity, gives him the fullest liberty. orders given by yakub are carried out with the same alacrity as if they were given by abdullah. he receives every day from the emin beit el mal all surplus cash, and moreover has charge of spare leather, sacking, &c., with which to supply the wants of the baggaras. it is said that yakub is already possessor of great stores of wealth. thus do the brothers, abdullah and yakub, hold the entire sudan in the most cruel bondage, whilst the inhabitants are harassed by the merciless baggaras, who have made themselves the ruthless masters of the whole country. footnotes: [n] the first chapter in the kuran; it is held in great veneration by mohammedans, and is used by them very much as the paternoster is recited by roman catholics. [o] jinn is the arabic equivalent for genii, in the existence of whom the mohammedans are believers, and by whom they are divided, into "believers" and "unbelievers." the mahdi always asserted that in battle thousands of jinns fought on the side of the dervishes. chapter xviii. a chapter of horrors. the revolt of the batahin tribe--revolt suppressed with appalling cruelty--wholesale executions--method of hanging--punishment by mutilation--the execution of abdel nur--trade with egypt--wad adlan, the emin beit el mal--his imprisonment and death. another example of the khalifa's cruel and merciless treatment of all who oppose him is shown by the manner in which he dealt with the batahin tribe. this small but warlike tribe inhabits the right bank of the blue nile near its confluence with the white, and extends as far as rufaa; also portions of this tribe are found scattered in the gezireh. they are the most daring robbers, and, mounted on swift camels, they lie in ambush awaiting caravans and merchants, whom they generally kill and make off with their goods. bruce, in his 'travels,' remarks that the wooded country around omdurman was their favourite haunt. they were the staunchest adherents of the sheikh el obeid, whom gordon's "fighting pasha," mohammed ali, had so severely defeated. during the massacre in khartum the batahin were most cruel and pitiless, and for their evil deeds god's just vengeance overtook them before long. abdullah had sent an emir with a few soldiers to collect the ushr tax, but the wild batahin, whose own system was to rob and plunder the poor, leaving them not even the wherewithal to live, resisted the emir and his men, and forced them to flee their country. when this news reached the khalifa, he was infuriated, and determined to deal in the harshest possible manner with this rebellious tribe. he therefore despatched the emir abdel baki with a considerable force, with instructions to seize every batahin he could find, put him in chains, and bring him to omdurman. [illustration] this tribe was now hunted down over the whole country, and abdel baki succeeded in securing a few hundred of them, as well as taher wad sheikh el obeid, who had been instigating them, and these were all brought to the capital. the influential el obeid family had taken a very prominent part in the siege of khartum, but after the mahdi's death they had become discontented and were not on good terms with the khalifa; taher had, therefore, been ordered to leave rufaa and settle in omdurman. on reaching khojali, which is just opposite to omdurman on the other bank, he wrote to the khalifa to say that his father, who since his death had been revered as a saint in the gezireh on account of his holiness, and who had received innumerable presents on account of his power in preserving the lives of infants, had appeared to him in a dream, telling him to stay at khojali and make that the headquarters of the family; he was not, therefore, able to come to omdurman. taher showed his sagacity in refusing to comply with the order; but abdullah, whose earnest desire it was to abolish the "saints" of the sudan, agreed to give taher twenty-four hours to decide whether he would come to omdurman or not, so there was nothing for it but to go. however, after a time he was permitted to return to rufaa, leaving his family as hostages in omdurman. this is the khalifa's usual mode of acting with all influential persons whom he suspects of disloyalty. but to return to the batahin. most of them died of starvation and ill-treatment, sixty-nine were taken to the square opposite the beit el amana, where they were kept under a soldiers' guard whilst the khalifa held a consultation regarding their fate. no decision was come to for some time, and this was because more gallows were being prepared. hitherto there was only one, now there were three near the "court" zariba--two at the south end of the market-place, and one at the west end; all were provided with camel-hair ropes. early the following morning the war-drums were beaten, the onbeïa sounded, and eighteen batahin were executed, three on each gallows. such executions have always a great attraction for the sudanese. the eighteen men were all brought up to the gallows with their hands tied behind their backs. without a sound or even a change of expression, they gave themselves up to their fate, or, as the moslem says, they gave themselves up to "el mektub" (_i.e._ "to that which is written"), for it is supposed that god writes down in a book the birth, experiences, and death of everyone, which things cannot be changed. below the gallows is an angarib, on which the condemned stands, while an immensely tall dinka called bringi puts the noose round the man's head, pulls it tight, fastens it to the gallows, and then draws away the angarib; and in this way the whole eighteen were soon swinging in the air, whilst the assembled masses sent up shout after shout of exultation. it was a most horrible sight. the poor creatures wore only a miserable cloth round their loins; they had had nothing to eat for some days, and presented a most wretched condition as the wind blew their emaciated bodies backwards and forwards. all were powerful young men, and the bystanders--as is always the way with the dervishes--vituperated them freely, accusing them of every description of wanton cruelty, whereas it is more than probable that all these just executed were entirely innocent, and were expiating the crimes of those who had been fortunate enough to escape. when all contortions were over, the bodies were untied to make room for the remainder, who had been quietly gazing at the fate of their brothers which was so soon to be theirs. on this occasion--as it had often happened before--the cord broke under the last man's weight; but bringi was very quick, he lost no time in joining the ends and completed his brutal work. the impressions which all those dreadful scenes left on my mind can never be obliterated. but if the fate of the eighteen was cruel, the fate of the remaining fifty-one was even worse. the khalifa now rode out accompanied by the cavalry and thousands of spearmen, and taking the wretched batahin with them they marched towards the parade ground. every now and then on the way he ordered one of them to be decapitated, and in this way twenty-four more were killed; there were now only twenty-seven left, and on arriving on the ground he sent for the butchers to cut off their hands and feet; soon there was a heap of these bleeding members, whilst the bodies of the poor batahin lay writhing on the ground, beads of anguish pouring from their brows; yet not a cry did they utter; most of them died in a very short time. even the most stony hearts were touched on beholding this terrible spectacle, but no one dared show it--in fact everyone tried to force a laugh or a jeer, because the khalifa himself revelled in scenes of useless bloodshed and cruelty, while in truth the whole population of omdurman secretly lamented it. the bodies hung on the gallows for a day, so that everyone might see them, whilst the mothers and sisters of those who had been mutilated on the parade ground begged the khalifa's permission to go to the spot and see if any of their relatives were still alive; they were allowed to go, and there they found a few still living; they dressed their bleeding limbs and carried them on their backs to the market-place, where they begged food for them. never shall i forget the face of one poor woman. with tearless eyes she bore her mutilated son in her arms, and it would be hard to say which of the two was suffering more--the mother or the son--the latter lifting up his mutilated right arm while he rested his mutilated left leg on his right to prevent anything striking the wounded stump. it was indeed a shocking and pitiful sight. several of the survivors of khartum would pass by these wretched people, and staring at their wounds would shout out, "have you forgotten khartum?" long after this i used to see these poor creatures dragging themselves about in the market-place begging for alms. soon after this the khalifa pardoned the batahin, and sent ahmed wad el bedri to try to persuade them to come and settle in omdurman; eventually they formed part of nejumi's force, and were almost all killed at toski. thus did god's vengeance overtake them for their untold cruelties during the massacre in khartum. it is said that the khalifa has repented of his wanton slaughter of this tribe. after this, fear took possession of even the bravest, and no further attempts at resistance were made; discontent was everywhere rife, not in omdurman only, but throughout the provinces, and even the baggara, who were favoured in every way, and given every possible advantage, longed to return to their own country. it is usual, when the day's work is done, for neighbours to collect together in the lovely moonlight nights, for which the sudan is so famed, and talk over matters. the conversation always turns to politics; the latest news from all directions is eagerly discussed, and often the most unlikely and impossible stories are credited. the fact is that the people long for freedom, and their smallest hopes become exaggerated into not only possibilities, but certainties. the proverb, "el gharkan yemsik fi shaaru" (_i.e._ "the drowning man catches at a straw"--literally, a hair), is being continually exemplified. talk also turns much on what the khalifa said and did, what he intends to do, what has taken place in the last council, &c. but the khalifa, fearing that all these conversations might lead to conspiracies, ordered them to be discontinued. but nevertheless they are still carried on secretly. near the market-place there lived a certain fiki named abdel nur (_i.e._ the slave of light--that is to say, the slave of the light of the prophet; though, when the copts are called by this name, the reference is to the light of the redeemer). the fiki's neighbours used to assemble in his house every evening, and of course the conversation always turned on mahdiism, and the khalifa was abused freely. abdel nur would talk more excitedly than the rest, and used to say that the sudan no longer formed part of islam, that both the khalifa and the mahdi were unbelievers, and this he proved by quotations from the sacred books. all this was reported by a spy to the khalifa, who at once despatched a company of soldiers by whom the unsuspecting party were suddenly surrounded and carried off to prison. early the following morning abdel nur was brought before the judges, who asked him if he had really spoken against mahdiism. seeing that he was now lost, he thought this a good opportunity, in the presence of such a large audience, to prove his assertion; he declared that the true mahdi should not die in omdurman, and that true mahdiism would not be confined to the sudan alone; that the people having been once deceived, the paths of wickedness should be avoided, the paths of truth followed, and the oppression of the moslems abandoned once and for all. the judges, who in their own hearts were convinced of the truth of abdel nur's assertions, were unable to browbeat him, whilst all those who listened had little doubt in their own minds of the truth of the statements of this outspoken man, but fear of the khalifa intervened to stop them from admitting their convictions. one of the judges at length stood up, and, desiring to make an end of this dangerous and humiliating position, said to abdel nur: "we are with the prophet, the mahdi, and his khalifa; are you with us or not?" the fiki replied, "i am not with you," whereupon the khalifa sentenced him to death, and at ten o'clock the same morning his body was dangling from the gallows; his friends were not executed, but were severely reprimanded. this execution was so sudden and unexpected that everyone was asking what his crime could have been, but the khalifa was careful to send spies to all quarters to spread false reports about him, to the effect that he was an unbeliever and a magician; these spies were also told to ascertain exactly what the people said, but the latter knew they were being watched, so they said nothing and retired; the spies set fire to the fiki's clothes, and the next morning reported to the khalifa that hell-fire had burnt them up. but the matter was not ended here; according to the moslem law, if an unbeliever be discovered, all his neighbours within a forty yards' radius are considered guilty, and their houses may be plundered and destroyed. this law was carried out in the fiki's case, and several families with all their goods were dragged off to the beit el mal, while their homes were occupied by the soldiers; several men were threatened with the gallows, and there was a good deal of disturbance in the town. the khalifa's adherents were shouting, "away with these unbelievers!" several suspected persons were seized and kept for three days in continual fear of death. on the third day several of the wives and families came to the khalifa and begged his forgiveness, throwing dust on their heads and making every show of oriental grief. on this occasion the khalifa thought it was sufficient to thoroughly frighten them all, so on the expiration of the three days he released them and returned their property. he took this opportunity of giving an order that it was the duty of every one to report to him any fiki who was in the habit of writing amulets; spies and informers soon produced numbers of such fikis, who only saved their lives by making most solemn promises to the khalifa that they would never again be guilty of this disobedience of orders. on another occasion a boat-boy was accused of having said something against mahdiism; he was hurried before the judge, confessed his crime, and was then taken off to the parade-ground, where the khalifa ordered him to be beheaded. ahmed el talia was the executioner, but he made a false stroke and only gashed the youth's shoulder, but with the second blow the head was clean severed from the body. abdullah's jealousy and alarm for the safety of his kingdom now induced him to turn his attention to wad adlan. as i have already narrated, adlan had rendered the khalifa great services: he had put the beit el mal in good order, had regulated the accounts on the old government system, and in order to increase the revenue without having recourse to force, he had persuaded him to open trade with egypt. it had been the khalifa's original idea to erect a sort of great wall of china between egypt and the sudan, to prevent all ingress into his newly-acquired dominions; but adlan was a very tactful man, and by degrees he induced the khalifa to agree to his proposal. ivory and gum were declared to be the monopoly of the beit el mal. ivory comes in small quantities from regaf and lado, while gum, which is purchased by the beit el mal for five dollars a hundredweight, is sold out by the beit el mal to merchants for twenty dollars; the beit el mal will also accept gum as payment in lieu of money. a lively trade soon sprang up between berber, sawakin, assuan, and korosko; and omdurman merchants were allowed to come to sawakin and purchase goods; the beit el mal made considerable profits, and the people were less oppressed than before. thus did adlan render a great service to the inhabitants of the sudan, and through his influence many of the cruel measures of the khalifa were altered. as long as he was in charge of the beit el mal he was very popular with all, the capital was in good hands, the markets throve, and even when the funds in the exchequer were low he had no difficulty in raising loans from rich merchants on payment of bills of exchange. usually a loan of , to , dollars could be raised between fifteen or twenty merchants with ease, because of the feeling of security which adlan's presence induced. the white people also owe him a deep debt of gratitude, for he gave them continuous protection. on one occasion, when it was rumoured that the sudan was to be invaded by egypt, the khalifa proposed separating all the whites and scattering them amongst the arabs in various parts of the country, but adlan impressed upon him the necessity of retaining them all under his own eye in omdurman, and thereby he rendered us an immense service; his main idea was to lighten the mahdiist yoke and relieve the oppression of the people. but this growing contentment gradually began to be displeasing to abdullah, whose main object was to reduce every one to poverty and to enrich his own tribe, the baggara; thus his and adlan's views frequently clashed, but adlan was most prudent, and knew when to give way. what displeased the khalifa most was to see numbers of people assembling every morning outside adlan's door waiting for him to go to the beit el mal, where they would lay their complaints before him. the honour they paid and the praises they heaped upon him excited the khalifa's jealousy, and the latter frequently rebuked him sharply; but he took no notice of these outbursts, and in a fit of anger he was, on one occasion, thrown into chains for fourteen days. on his release adlan now thought that the khalifa could not get on without him, and began to show less submission to his master's will than before. this still further widened the breach between him and abdullah, which was made worse by adlan's many enemies, who envied him his high position. the khalifa's brother yakub was his most dangerous rival, as adlan's popularity had rather detracted from his authority. he and others represented him to the khalifa as a dangerous man, who might at any moment bring his influence to bear in direct opposition to the khalifa. it is therefore not to be wondered at that abdullah grew suspicious, and one day, when adlan was presenting his daily report, the khalifa took occasion to tell him that he was far from pleased with him, and blamed him for his delay in sending corn to the starving dervishes in dongola. adlan answered: "what can i do? the people won't have mahdiism any longer, and that is why i meet with so much opposition." some say that he even said much more than this; but the khalifa was not accustomed to be talked to in this way, so he ordered adlan to give up his sword, and the same night he sent him to prison. this gave his rivals ample occasion to speak against him, and yakub insisted that he should suffer death. adlan was very heavily chained, and forbidden all intercourse with the outside world. his arrest did not at first create much excitement, but this was due to the many false reports which were circulated regarding the cause. on the following day it was announced that he might have to suffer death, on the third day this sentence was confirmed, and a messenger was sent to adlan to ask him if he had any choice between being hanged or having his hand and foot cut off. adlan chose the former. to the beating of war-drums and the sound of the onbeïa, he was led, with his hands bound, to the market-place. here numbers of baggara horsemen formed a square round the scaffold, and adlan, escorted by a guard, entered the square with firm footsteps. when he reached the foot of the gallows, the judge called on him to repeat the shahada or moslem creed, which he did with a clear voice, then jumped on to the angarib, adjusted the noose himself, which bringi pulled taut, and he swung into space, whilst at the same instant the baggaras drew their swords and flourished them in the air, to signify that a like fate would surely befall all the khalifa's enemies. but grief was read on every face, and never before had there been such heartfelt lamentations in omdurman. ibrahim wad adlan was a most intelligent sudanese, with black face and aquiline nose. he was about thirty-five years of age. after his body had been suspended for half-an-hour, yakub, accompanied by several others, took it down, and laid it out on the angarib; the bystanders say that yakub could not conceal his look of half repentance, half terror, as he gazed on the corpse of his victim. it was wrapped in a cotton shroud, and taken to the cemetery outside the city, where it was buried, yakub leading the procession. that night robbers pulled out the body and stole the clothes in which it was laid, leaving the corpse on the sand to be food for hyenas. the khalifa's reason for sending yakub to attend adlan's funeral could not well be misunderstood, for every one knew that yakub had been the prime instigator in securing his condemnation; and yet abdullah was short-sighted enough to imagine that in thus sending his brother he might to some extent dissipate the bad impression which adlan's execution had created. the mourning for adlan was both general and sincere; during his whole administration he had done no harm to anyone; he had done his utmost to smooth over difficulties and lighten oppression, and i can confidently affirm that he is the only man of whom this can be said, for, as a rule, sudanese who rise to positions of power and authority invariably become most cruel and arbitrary. now what good could this execution have done for mahdiism? no doubt the khalifa thought to justify himself in the public estimation, because adlan was too popular, but the real reason was, that the khalifa feared him, for he knew that his justice and prudence had made him beloved by the people. with the one exception that adlan had opened commerce with egypt, chiefly through the secret intermediary of a former khartum merchant named abdel majid, i do not believe there was anything else against him. it was said that letters had been found, purporting to have been written by adlan, in which he had begged the egyptian government to retake possession of the sudan; but this statement, had it been true, would have been announced far and wide by the khalifa; this, however, had not been done, and it was generally agreed that it was entirely fear on the khalifa's part which prompted him to take adlan's life. all his property was confiscated, and his friends persecuted. some of the latter, after his death, remembered that he had told them how, when studying in cairo, an old woman had foretold that he would die a violent death. for long he paid little attention to this prophecy; but during the siege of el obeid, he called it to mind, and thought it would perhaps be fulfilled there. but when he eventually rose to high position in omdurman, he used to laugh at the old woman's saying. however, during his last imprisonment, he had been firmly convinced it would come true, and that was what made him so bold and firm when he actually came to look death in the face. in place of adlan, the khalifa nominated his relative ez zaki, now emir of berber; but he fell ill shortly afterwards, and resigned. the khalifa then appointed nur el gereifawi (that is, a native of gereif, near khartum). he had been in charge of the beit el mal at berber; as nur was an intimate friend of adlan's, it was thought that he might suffer a like fate, but he was a crafty individual, and had sent the khalifa , dollars, which he knew would have the desired effect. on arrival at omdurman he stood by the great gate to see the khalifa; but abdullah did not summon him that evening, so he lay that night on the ground beside the khalifa's door--an act of humility which quite won his heart--and the next morning nur was officially appointed adlan's successor. in order to thoroughly impress nur with the dangers of his new situation, the khalifa announced to him that on the previous night he had beheld a vision, in which he had seen hell, and ibrahim adlan suffering untold agonies in the lowest abyss, with a long chain fastened round his neck; nur was shackled to the other end of the chain, and adlan was trying to drag him down into the abyss; but the khalifa had unfastened the chain and released him. thus was nur completely overawed, and did his utmost to comply with the khalifa's and yakub's wishes. he discharged all the copts employed in the beit el mal, and replaced them by blacks. awad, formerly head clerk of the kassala mudirieh, he appointed as his assistant, and through his astuteness and knavery he lost no opportunity of forcibly extracting money from the people. chapter xix. social life at omdurman. system of public security and justice in omdurman--the court of small causes--bribery and corruption--the story of the slave and her mistress--how the khalifa deals with quarrelsome persons--thieves and pickpockets--the story of zogheir--usurers and their trade--the chief of police--brigandage--disproportion of males to females in omdurman--how the khalifa overcame the difficulty--immorality--the marriage ceremony. it may be imagined that fear of the khalifa and his tyrannical rule would produce at least a feeling of public security and immunity from lawlessness; but the following chapter will show that this is not the case. in the early years of mahdiism there was no discipline, and laws were entirely put aside, because the whole population was at war and everyone on the move. they were living on the captured wealth and prosperity of the government. at that time there were not many robbers. when we were living in kordofan we were perfectly safe, and could sleep with our doors open at night. no one ever thought of taking precautions against thieves, though nothing would have been easier than to break into our loosely-built straw huts. after the capture of khartum, and when omdurman became a large city, the former prosperity of the country gradually began to wane, famine broke out, and then public security became seriously threatened. thieves increased in such alarming numbers as to be a terror to all; and in - they became so bad that people scarcely dared to go to sleep. it is true the punishment of cutting off hands and feet was freely exercised; but even this had little effect, chiefly because robbery and corruption went hand in hand, and a thief had no difficulty in disposing of a bribe. as i have already narrated, the khalifa nominated his own judges, with ahmed the kadi el islam as their head; a special court was also established to deal with the innumerable marriage disputes which form so large a part of moslem legislation. abdullah specially instructed his judges to consider these cases from their external rather than from their internal aspect. the usual proofs required are the evidence on oath of witnesses. the witness is obliged to wash himself before taking an oath, so that he may be pure. he then places his right hand on the kuran, and says, "hakk kitab allah" ("by god's book"), following it by his statement. in cases of complaints, the defendant only has the right to take an oath, whereas the complainant must produce witnesses. if no witnesses are forthcoming, the defendant has only to take an oath, and is then acquitted. the real sense and meaning of an oath is absolutely ignored. hundreds of oaths are taken every day in the market court on the smallest trifle, perhaps not exceeding a piastre. the falsehood of the individual taking the oath is frequently quite apparent; but unless the witnesses come forward, the most flagrant case will go unpunished. it is the popular idea that if a man swears falsely on the kuran, he will immediately fall down dead. this constant perjury is very clear evidence of the depth of moral degradation and religious decadence which the followers of the mahdi have now reached. in cases relating to debt, acknowledgment on the part of the debtor of his liability is considered sufficient; but if this is not forthcoming, then two witnesses are required. as a consequence of the widespread mistrust and duplicity which exists, everything, even to the smallest matter, is generally written down on paper; or a bargain may be struck in the presence of witnesses; but this is not considered a safe proceeding, owing to the prevalence of bribery. the khalifa has given very strict injunctions that all debts must be repaid, and if there be a delay, the debtor is to be put in prison, and brought to reason by hunger. let us glance for an instant into the court of justice in the market-place of omdurman, where most of the small cases are tried. here we find the sheikh es suk (or sheikh of the market), together with the judge, some soldiers, and (latterly only) a few arabs, as a police guard. the sheikh generally rides to the court at eight o'clock every morning on a donkey. one of his guards places his sheepskin on a small straw rukuba (latterly this has been constructed of clay), and on this the sheikh seats himself. he has the kuran beside him. the parties in dispute arrive, and the case turns, for example, on fraudulent dealing, debts, payment in false coinage, &c. as there are no lawyers, each party must defend himself. as a rule the sudanese are clever and astute in their conversation, and the man who can talk best has already gained half the victory. the noise and shouting is deafening; and the sudanese have a wonderful display of sly cunning. the sheikh's last resource is the kuran. sometimes bystanders attempt to mediate between the disputing parties, and this course generally prolongs the talk and noise indefinitely, and does not often succeed. the usual punishment is flogging, which is inflicted on the spot. marissa-drinkers and tobacco-smokers receive eighty lashes. the individual sentenced has to lie prone on the ground, supporting his head with his hands, while two slaves take it in turns to belabour him with whips made of hippopotamus hide. the first few strokes generally draw blood, but as a rule the victim remains immovable, whilst the bystanders applaud him for his courage. if he utters a cry or a moan he is laughed at and derided. the sheikh and his supporters are much addicted to bakshish, which enables many a culprit to escape punishment. should the dispute be of a very serious nature, it is brought before the high court at the bab el khalifa; but here money plays even a more important part than in the smaller court. the success or failure of the case depends on the ability with which the opposing mediators influence the judgment; a hint or a sign with the hand is quite sufficient to make the judge understand, and with marvellous astuteness he will contrive to give the case an entirely new aspect, and one which, probably, only a few moments before he has most strongly condemned, but which now he thinks it advisable, under the circumstances, to adopt; and this change of front is carried out without the smallest hesitation. i will here give an example of what is considered justice in omdurman. a female slave who had for a long time had a quarrel with her mistress decided to have her revenge, and the fact that her mistress was in the habit of smoking and wearing jewels aided her in her design. she took her lady's tobacco and cigarette papers, which were generally kept hidden under ground, tied them in a little bundle, ran off with them to a soldier who was her relative, and who belonged to yakub's bodyguard, and reported her mistress's evil doings. meanwhile the lady, finding that her slave had run away, sent her brother-in-law in search of her. the family were now thoroughly disturbed, and anticipated all sorts of bad consequences. the lady's husband hastened to yakub's house, thinking that perhaps the slave might have gone there, and there, sure enough, he found her, surrounded by a crowd of ansar. the latter, espying ahmed (as we may call him), surrounded him and were carrying him before yakub, when ahmed, who did not lose his head, explained to the ansar that he had always been under the impression that the khalifa had appointed a judge to inquire into all such matters, and that he was ready to bow to the judge's decision; so he, the female slave, and the ansar all went to the court. the slave produced from her pocket the bundle, laid it before the kadi, and then stated her complaint against her mistress. meanwhile ahmed had met a friend, and told him how that for a long time the slave had been on bad terms with her mistress, and had seized this opportunity for revenging herself on her, adding that she had probably obtained the tobacco and cigarette papers from elsewhere, and had trumped up this case to harm her mistress, who had never smoked in her life nor worn jewels; indeed, if they liked they might go and inspect the house. the mediator gave a sign to the judge, who at once decided the case in ahmed's favour, and ordered him to go to the sheikh es suk, who had been instructed to send some one to inspect his house. it was not a difficult matter to circumvent the sheikh es suk, and when they all arrived at the house, the slave was called upon to show the place in which she had been ordered to hide her mistress's tobacco. without a moment's hesitation the slave came forward and began scraping away the earth in a corner. it was evident that she had often done this before, and that the hiding-place had been carefully prepared--indeed, the slave found some tobacco still there which she had not noticed before, and this she exultingly produced; but at that instant one of the ansar gave her a slap on the face, saying, "look at this bint el kelb (daughter of a dog), she brought some tobacco here which she purposely dropped into the hole whilst she was clearing the earth away." heaped with insults by the bystanders, the poor slave was dragged off to the market-place, where she received eighty lashes because she had failed to prove the truth of her assertion. such is omdurman justice. although this is but one amongst thousands of cases of the most disgraceful corruption, still all this serves to keep the slaves in order, and were it not so, there is little doubt that masters would stand in constant danger, and would be at the mercy of their slaves. indeed, many slaves have succeeded in getting their masters into great disfavour by informing on them, and this makes the masters in great fear of their slaves even if a slave has been born and brought up in his master's house he cannot be trusted, and if he receive some slight punishment, it is more than probable he will go off and report his master as a smoker, marissa-drinker, or that he has become lax in the cause of mahdiism; and, as likely as not, he will be flogged, or receive some worse punishment. according to moslem law a slave's evidence against his master is considered invalid; but this law, as well as all other laws, is only applied according to the khalifa's wishes and the circumstances of the case: the same remark applies to the value of evidence given under torture. curiously enough, murders are seldom committed, and when the wild nature of the sudanese is considered, it is contrary to what one would expect. quarrels and disputes are endless, but in spite of being armed, both parties seem to expend their energy in violent talking and gesticulation. the khalifa has given the strictest orders regarding "assault and battery;" if a man hits another man, he will be liable to have his hand cut off, and this order is generally unflinchingly carried out, unless the condemned man be well off, and he will then have his property confiscated, as the following case will show:-- a dispute once arose between a merchant named yusef kurdi and a certain mohammed, son of the rich ben en naga; both were intoxicated at the time, had drawn their swords and slightly wounded each other. the affair reached the khalifa's ears; he ordered both of them to be arrested, and threatened to cut off their hands; but, as a matter of fact, he really wanted to secure some of their money. old ben en naga, a man of ninety years of age, threw himself at the khalifa's feet and begged that his son's punishment might be altered, and after a few days' confinement and continued threats, the khalifa was at length graciously pleased to commute the sentence into confiscation of property. yusef kurdi paid , dollars and ben en naga's son , dollars, while both of them were kept in prison for many months to expiate their hasty step. with no less energy did the khalifa deal with thieves and swindlers. there are various classes of thieves: there are the pickpockets, whose field of labour lies principally in the markets, the small bazaars, and landing-places. they are principally khartum people or egyptians, and their feats of dexterity are marvellous. the removal and cutting out of purses and money-bags is for them a quite simple operation, and is generally performed when people are engaged in a violent dispute. the thief has generally a confederate with whom he works. they will sit in the crowded ferry-boats, and whilst one of them attracts the attention of his fellow-passengers by singing or telling an exciting story, the accomplice is busily engaged in pocket-picking; or sometimes one of them will begin rocking the boat whilst the other takes advantage of the passengers' alarm by robbing them. they hover about all day long in the market, watching their opportunities to steal both from purchasers and vendors. stolen goods are sold to a particular set of men who are in league with the thieves, and the money obtained is quickly squandered. the art of pocket-picking has become quite a science, and so skilful are they that detection is almost impossible. the stolen goods are passed on so readily from hand to hand that even if the original thief is caught the person robbed will probably never secure what he has lost. over and over again thieves are apprehended _in flagrante_, but when brought up before the judge, no trace of the stolen article is ever found. frequently the judge does not fail to get his share of thieves' profits; so that the latter have every inducement to continue their nefarious practices. but far more dangerous than the pickpockets are the housebreakers. of the latter there is a regularly organized body, of whom the chief is known as the sheikh el haramieh. the band is made up of strong and bold slaves, who are experts at breaking through walls or climbing over them, armed with a long knife, with which they would not fail to stick anyone who attempted to stop them. they employ women and children as spies, who go about begging from house to house, and then give the housebreakers full information, whereupon the thieves, stripped almost naked, and armed with swords and daggers, break into the house. one of them is always told off to stand over the sleeping owner, and to give him his quietus if he should attempt to rise, whilst the others ransack the dwelling, and are off again as quickly as they came, to divide the spoil. whenever the cry of "el harami" ("thieves") is heard at night, all sleep is banished, and a careful watch kept till morning. formerly watch-dogs were most useful to warn against housebreakers, but the khalifa decreed that they were impure animals, and forbade them to be kept. not a dog is now to be seen in the whole of omdurman; but in spite of this injunction, the arabs living in the desert still keep them. if one of these poor animals by chance strays into the town he is at once pursued by a multitude armed with spears, shouting "arian!" ("naked!") and he is soon despatched. a man called zogheir--an egyptian, born at bara--became quite one of the most celebrated of thieves. from an early age he was brought up to steal, and became most skilful. to a strong constitution he added a courage which was worthy of higher things. as head of a band of thieves he led many a daring undertaking, and had the most wonderful knack of always escaping all harm himself. on one occasion, when there were scores of complaints made against him, he was sent to the lock-up of the market. the sheikh es suk, who was at that time rather short of money, promised to release the prisoners if they could collect fifty dollars amongst them. zogheir agreed to get the money, and was given one hour's release from prison. he at once went to the market, and very soon found a victim in the person of a dammur (cloth) vendor, who had sold almost all his goods, and sat with his purse full of money in front of him. zogheir seated himself down beside him, and started a conversation about the cloth, which he began turning over piece by piece, and with great dexterity he succeeded in seizing the purse, which he secreted under his jibbeh. he then went off to the judge, to whom he presented the purse, in which were seventy dollars, and then quietly returned to the lock-up, and told his guard to again put his chains on. the cloth merchant soon discovered the theft, rushed off madly to the market court, and there represented that a thief--and it could have been no one else but zogheir, for he had been sitting with him--had stolen his money. the sheikh severely reprimanded the merchant for making a false accusation, asking whether he was a liar or was mad, and then, taking him off to the prison, he showed him zogheir heavily bound in chains; and after this the unfortunate merchant had to thank his good fortune that he himself did not receive a flogging. during the famine zogheir drove a thriving trade. on one occasion he discovered some arabs in the market who had just sold a quantity of dhurra, and were counting out their money, which amounted to dollars, which they were carefully examining, to see that all were good. this sight made zogheir long to get the money, so he winked to his accomplice, and then seated himself near the arabs, and began asking them whether he could offer them "medjidie" in exchange for "makbul" dollars. when the agreement was nearly concluded, zogheir took two dollars out of his pocket and gave them to one of his accomplices, to buy some dates, and when the man returned with the dates he began throwing them about in all directions, calling out "karama! karama!" ("alms! alms!"). the starving beggars flocked to him in crowds, and began quarrelling over the dates, whilst the leather bag in which were the dollars suddenly disappeared. the cries of the arabs, searching for their lost money, could scarcely be heard in the frightful din occasioned by the distribution of the dates, and all this time zogheir kept on condoling with the arabs over their loss, and then he seized a favourable moment to make off and divide the contents of the leather bag amongst his friends. at length complaints against him became so numerous that he was sentenced to have his right hand and left foot cut off. he submitted quite cheerfully to the operation, which is really a very simple one. a butcher is called up, who ties the arm and foot tightly with string just above the place where the cut is to be made. this butcher, who has had an immensity of practice, knows exactly where to cut, and it takes only a very few moments to sever the hand and foot at the joints. the tightly-tied string keeps the victim from bleeding profusely, and in order to prevent gangrene or mortification setting in, the mutilated members are at once dipped into boiling oil or fat, and are then smeared over with katran (a sort of mixture of tar and grease), or sesame. in the course of about two months the cure is complete--that is to say, the cure of those who survive the first shock; but several succumb as well. however, the enormous number of cripples in omdurman is practical evidence that the nerves of sudanese are strong. zogheir survived the operation, but hardly had he recovered than he began his old tricks again. he now was possessor of a fine donkey, on which he rode about in far better clothes than he had before, and altogether, with his diminished members, his condition seemed to have generally improved. but continual thefts again drove him into prison, where he wore two chains on his foot and two on his neck; still he thought it beneath him to take to crutches, and contented himself with hopping about on one leg. he remained in prison for two years, and during the whole of that time he was well looked after by his friends, who supplied all his wants. at last he was released, and is once more the best professional thief in the sudan. but thieves are not all--there are swindlers as well. several people wished to give their money out to interest, and of course there were numbers found ready to give them what they asked. the prophet, however, forbids money to be lent out at a monthly rate of interest, and the mahdi renewed this injunction with threats that an infringement of it would involve confiscation of property; this led the swindlers to adopt a variety of subterfuges. for instance, some men would induce the arabs to give them to dollars, with which they set up a restaurant, promising the lenders half profits in the concern. as long as the cook has money in hand everything goes on well, and the arab will probably make daily inquiries as to the progress of the business. "it is going on capitally," is the reply, and the cook entertains his patron, who in turn is much gratified at his generosity, and generally makes a very excellent meal. a careful account is kept, and prices are high. at the end of the month the profits are divided, and the arab gets from say eight to fifteen dollars. the business goes on perhaps for a year, the arab is content and lavish in his praises, but he is not aware that the cook has paid him his share of the profits out of the original money he put into the concern. at the end of about a year the cook begins to complain that "es suk barid" ("the market is getting cold")--_i.e._ business is slack, meat is dear, customers are few, and instead of profit there is a distinct loss. finding he is the only customer, the arab patron eats quickly and goes away. at last the shop is closed, and the arab, coming for his money, is met with the simple answer, "there is none." the case is brought before the judge, the cook hands in a statement of his accounts, showing that the profit amounted to dollars, of which eighty were passed to the credit of the patron in food, and the rest had been lost owing to general depression of trade. the accounts are all right, and the arab is thoroughly puzzled as to why he should have to pay so dearly for his cook's proffered kindness. several arabs, who have considerably less knowledge of the world than the gellabas, have lost all they possessed by these swindles. the omdurman market is, i suppose, the scene of more swindling and deception than any other place of its size in the world. there is no shame in being a thief or a swindler; it is only when one is found out that some shame attaches. several masters keep slaves for the express purpose of getting them to rob and steal, and share the profits with them. slaves of this description are valuable commodities, as, if they are discovered, it is generally pretty certain that their master can bribe the judges; but this, of course, all depends on the relations which exist between the individual and the local authorities. thus tobacco-smokers and marissa-drinkers must pay a monthly sum to the sheikh es suk, which enables them to carry out their lawless practices with impunity. if any such individual refuse to pay, his habits are at once reported, and he is severely punished, the confiscated tobacco being then sold by the police. complaints against these evil practices, and regarding the absence of public security in omdurman, grew so continuous and so serious, that at length the khalifa was obliged to interfere, and the following case brought the matter to a head. a drunken slave had shot one of his fellow slaves. in accordance with the law, the master is permitted to take the offending slave's life; but he forgave him, because he did not wish to lose two slaves at once. when the khalifa heard of the case, he at once ordered the slave to be executed. after this, every one came and told him about the smokers and marissa-drinkers; and then and there he appointed a certain wad er reis, also named hussein wad ed dayim, as sheikh of the market. this man, who had been formerly mamur of the berber police, succeeded in making himself feared by the thieves. he openly told the khalifa that it would never do to treat thieves according to the law, and that only the strongest and most energetic measures would effect the breaking up of the band. the khalifa agreed; and at once the new chief of police seized all the well-known thieves and put them in chains. they were then bastinadoed, and forced to confess what they had stolen, to whom the goods had been sold, and their value. and thus they got to know the names of almost all the thieves in the town. these measures created a great sensation in omdurman, for it was found that several people in high places were implicated, and they were convicted. the thieves, too, seized this opportunity for extorting hush-money; but wad er reis soon re-established public security. to increase the supervision, he divided the market into quarters, over which he appointed sub-sheikhs (known as sheikh el hara), who were responsible, with the assistance of the inhabitants of the quarter, for preserving security at night. numbers of marissa-drinkers were apprehended, and a large quantity of confiscated tobacco was publicly burnt in the market-place. all the principal thieves were transported to the convict-station at regaf, a course which the khalifa thought preferable to mutilation of the hand and foot. just about this time an egyptian convict, who had escaped from sawakin, arrived in omdurman. he had been convicted of false coining in egypt, and had been sentenced to ten years penal servitude at sawakin. while in the prison there, he and a companion had come to an agreement with the soldier guarding them, and all three had escaped and set off for berber. the soldier and the other man had died on the journey, and the survivor, having reached omdurman, begged to be presented to the khalifa; but abdullah thought it beneath his dignity to interview an escaped convict. he was therefore transferred at once to the steamer bound for regaf with all the thieves and other exiles, whilst the khalifa was heard to remark that anyone who came from egypt was invariably a criminal or dishonest man. the new posts of sheikh el hara were unpaid, and as the holders had to live, they were forced to make money by unfair means. this led to the old tobacco and marissa abuse, so that matters soon drifted back into much the same condition as before. the caravan roads into the interior are fairly safe, but merchants always prefer to travel in parties of twenty to thirty; though, as a matter of fact, the baggara garrisons at the various posts are a much greater source of danger to the merchants than are the thieves and brigands. these baggara wring money out of the merchants, and steal their goods; but if the caravan is large, they are afraid to do anything which may lead to reprisals. the khalifa has, however, done much to improve public security in the provinces, and punishes severely when cases are brought to his notice. the state of public morality in the sudan is very bad, and in omdurman it could not well be worse. before the mahdi appeared, matters were bad enough. almost all the large towns, such as khartum, messalamieh, metemmeh, and el obeid--especially the latter--were hotbeds of immorality of the very worst description. the mahdi was utterly opposed to all these evil habits, and during his life matters greatly improved; but this was due rather to the fact that the whole country was under arms, and that the towns were practically deserted. besides, punishment for such crimes was ungrudgingly given, and the stoppage of marissa-drinking also tended to lessen the evils. marriage ceremonies were simplified and made less expensive, and a distinct advance in public morality was apparent. but when the principal fighting was over, and the victorious emirs gave themselves over to a life of luxury and debauchery, when idle town life took the place of religious campaigns, when houses were built of mud and bricks instead of rough straw huts, and when the mahdi died, then immorality broke forth with the redoubled violence of long compression, and the state of affairs became infinitely worse than it had ever been in the old government days. i refer especially to omdurman. constant warfare had greatly diminished the male population. omdurman was full of women who had neither husbands nor male relations; and this is the real cause of the evil state of affairs. matters reached such a pitch in that the khalifa issued an order that every unmarried woman must be provided with a husband within three days, or she would be handed over to a baggara as a slave or concubine. in consequence of this order, for the space of three days the whole town was continuously occupied in marriage ceremonies. men seized this opportunity of taking women whom they would never, under other circumstances, have been allowed to marry; and of course these forced marriages could not be of long duration--in a month or two most of the couples were separated. another cause which tended towards immorality was the fact that numbers of men had been sent off to far-distant parts of the country on expeditions, unaccompanied by their wives, most of whom were left in omdurman for years; and it is hardly to be wondered at if in time they began to forget their husbands and to form unlawful connections, in which the khalifa had frequently to interfere. on one occasion upwards of eighty women, whose infidelity to their husbands was unquestionable, were put in prison, and a council held to consider what should be done to them. it was decided to make an example of one, and the victim selected was an unfortunate who had borne two illegitimate children. the poor creature was led into the women's quarter of the market, and there she was lowered into a grave with her last child tied to her bosom, and both stoned to death by a cruel and hard-hearted crowd, who seemed to take a fiendish delight in this inhuman piece of work. this, however, was the only execution of the sort which took place during mahdiism. the other women were released; but the only effect of the above example was to induce women to take criminal means to rid themselves of these evidences of illicit connection; and the open sale of abortive medicines only tended to further increase the moral decadence of the people. one can truthfully say that feelings of horror and shame scarcely exist in the sudan. from slaves of all ages and sexes, to the little child of six years old, all are instructed in the very worst forms of immorality; but on this painful and disgusting subject i will say no more. gradually the simple marriage laws introduced by the mahdi gave place to the old former customs. for example, the emir of berber, abdel majid, married the daughter of abderrahman bey ben en naga, and received from her father , grammes of gold. the marriage ceremony, which was celebrated with dancing and singing, lasted about a month; but when the khalifa heard of it, he had the emir imprisoned for some months, declared the marriage dissolved, sent the bride back to her father, and forbade him to let the bridegroom ever take her again. but the sudanese have a passion for such ceremonies involving dancing and singing, and will never be restrained by any of these new laws. the women wear jewellery as before; they dance, sing, and prepare marissa; games of chance too are quite in vogue; but of course everything is carried on secretly. from time to time the khalifa raises his voice against it, and then for a few days everything stops; but it soon breaks out again, and goes on just as before. the festivals consequent on the termination of ramadan, on bairam, on the occasion of births, circumcisions, &c., are not carried out with any degree of their former brilliance. perhaps a meat meal is given, and visits paid two or three times in the year. the old days of rejoicing have vanished, all is anguish and fear, no man's life and property are secure; every one has perforce to break the laws, which are most of them quite impracticable, and at the same time are in constant fear of spies, who are everywhere. there is no security, justice, or liberty; and happiness and content are unknown. chapter xx. the khalifa's treatment of the white captives. description of the prison, or "saier"--the "abu haggar"--the imprisonment of charles neufeld--terrible sufferings of the prisoners--domenico polinari--the danger of corresponding with the european prisoners--neufeld threatened with death--he is given charge of the saltpetre pits--the fate of sheikh khalil, the egyptian envoy--the khalifa's treatment of the "whites"--exile to the white nile. in the preceding pages frequent reference has been made to the prison. this is an institution of so much importance in connection with mahdiism that it merits a description in detail. "saier!" in the sudan the bare mention of this word causes a shudder. the ordinary word for prison is "siggen," but saier is really a contraction for beit es saier (_i.e._ the house of the saier). saier is the name of a terrible individual of the gowameh tribe of kordofan, who has been gaoler since the early days of the mahdi, and his name has become the synonym of the horrible place of which he is the guardian. a curious story is told about his name which is said to be true. the gowameh women are not renowned for moral virtue, and when saier was born his mother was asked whose son he was; she was unable to say, and when brought before the authorities and again questioned, she replied that it was "saier" (_i.e._ it was the custom of her country); the boy was therefore called saier, and the name clung to him. up to the time of the fall of khartum, the prison had been merely a large zariba, and it was only after the mahdi's death that a wall, built by the prisoners themselves, took the place of the thorn hedge. it is situated on the river bank, and consists of a large yard, in the centre of which is a building made of mud, straw, and stones, known as "abu haggar" (or the stone hut), with small square openings for a window and a door; near the hut is a well. in one corner are the cells, which are scarcely large enough to contain a man, and which had been built by charles neufeld. the ordinary prisoners are not kept apart, but lie under the shade of the wall during the day, and at night they are packed, some into the abu haggar and some left to lie about in the yard. a few of the well-off prisoners, who are in for long terms of imprisonment, have been allowed to build little huts for themselves. and just behind the gate is a small sun-dried brick building, which belonged to wad gazuli, late sub-mudir of khartum, who deserted to the mahdi before gordon's arrival; this hut is only big enough for two people, and so low that it is impossible to stand upright in it. it is considered a very great favour to be given a hut of this description--a favour which is only conferred on very privileged prisoners; it is, moreover, very expensive, but it has this merit, that the occupier can at any rate live separately. there are only three huts of this description in the prison. prisoners are not allowed to use mattresses, but the owner of a hut can have a small platform slightly raised from the ground, on which he is allowed to sleep. the ordinary prisoners generally lie on their sheepskins or on mats stretched on the ground. all prisoners are in chains, the number of which depends on the nature of the crime committed. the chains, called makias, consist of large iron rings forged to the ankles, and joined by one and sometimes two thick iron bars. the whole thing is very cumbersome and heavy, and most tiring to walk with. to lighten this difficulty, the prisoners generally attach a piece of string to the chains, with which they lift them up as they walk. if the connecting bar is twelve inches long walking is greatly facilitated. prisoners who have fallen under the khalifa's special displeasure are generally laden with four makias, which make it almost impossible to rise; besides these, a long heavy chain is fastened round the neck, and to prevent the skin being chafed, leather stocks can be bought of the prison warders. close to the prison gate is a large anvil and several hammers; the foot is placed in the open ring, the ends of which are so tightly hammered together that it is quite impossible to withdraw the foot; the anvil is in such constant use every day that it is almost worn out. prisoners have to arrange for their own food; if they have any relations or friends they are generally supplied by them, or if they have any money they can buy their own food from hawkers who are permitted to come into the prison. but woe to the unfortunate prisoner who has neither relations nor friends--he must inevitably die of starvation. at night, as i have remarked, the prisoners are locked up in the stone hut, and sometimes the saier crowds it up to such an extent that the inmates are almost suffocated or crushed to death. when he is in want of money he does this, for a man will give anything to be released from this awful black hole, in which he packs them like sardines in a box and then closes the door. the walls of the hut become heated during the day, so that within the temperature is like an oven. a little air gets in through the small opening, but the pestiferous atmosphere caused by scores of perspiring human beings tightly huddled together is beyond measure unbearable. several may be suffering from various illnesses, but there is no possibility of getting out once the door is closed. these horrible scenes can, however, be better imagined than described; suffice it to say that the noise and quarrelling amongst the prisoners, occasioned by the revolting operations which go on, is generally quelled by the guards coming in with whips, with which they lay about them roundly, and then go out and close the door again. sleep is almost quite out of the question, for there is no room to stretch out the legs, the heat is unbearable; scorpions abound, and every now and then a yell shows that some unfortunate individual has been stung; but no one takes any notice. cases of heat apoplexy often occur, and deaths on this account are frequent. when a person falls down in a fit, the only remark passed is, "ed dam darabu" ("the blood has beaten him"). thus, in utter anguish and misery, the night is dragged through. the moment the door is opened a rush is made for the open air, the dead are dragged out, their chains knocked off, and then they are buried. prisoners who have special permission to sleep outside are all chained together to prevent flight, and are guarded by numbers of soldiers. the slightest show of resistance on the part of a prisoner is punished by flogging. unless the khalifa gives special orders to the contrary, prisoners are allowed to receive visits from their friends and relatives. there are no fixed periods of imprisonment, except in the case of smokers and marissa-drinkers, the usual punishment for them being confiscation of property, eighty lashes, and forty days imprisonment; but latterly a fine, estimated at the value of their property, is levied instead of complete confiscation; the two other portions of the sentence are, however, always inflicted. prisoners are generally divided into three classes: the first class comprise those who are sentenced by the chief of the beit el mal, and although there is a special prison for offenders against the beit el mal, all serious cases are brought to the saier. second-class prisoners are those undergoing sentences of the judges; both these classes hope for release whenever a sufficiently influential person will pay a sum of money for them, which sum must also be accompanied by a certificate from the saier that they have been conducting themselves properly during their stay in prison. the third class are those on whom the vials of the khalifa's wrath have been poured out; their crimes are for the most part political, and all mediation in their cases is quite useless, no one, not even the judge, is allowed to say a good word for them to the khalifa. it is only when his wrath is somewhat abated that it may occur to himself to make inquiries about them, and then, perhaps, he may consider recommendations for their release; but the saier's opinion goes for much more than any other person's, and therefore it is a great point to secure this individual's favour and get into his good graces. one bad word from the saier can do an infinity of harm, and may indefinitely postpone a release which has been on the point of being made. the saier thoroughly understands how to work his influence, for he benefits considerably by his exercise of power; he receives no pay, and therefore he is entirely dependent on what he can make out of the prisoners. the richer his victims, the more pleased he is, for he knows he can wring money out of them freely. once a month the judge or his representative goes with a clerk to the saier and makes a list of all the prisoners, showing how long each prisoner has been in confinement. on these occasions numbers of the inmates throw themselves at the feet of the judges and beg to be released because they are starving. this list is shown by the judge to the khalifa, and charles neufeld's name always appears at the top. abdullah goes through the list, makes careful inquiries about the prisoners, some are released and others passed over in silence, a sign which bodes them no good. the saier has seen and heard not a few of the misfortunes of both sudanese and europeans. the first europeans he knew were slatin bey and lupton bey. gustav klootz was put into chains in abu girgeh's camp. during the siege of khartum it was thought the europeans might attempt to escape to gordon, they were therefore put in chains; both slatin and lupton spent upwards of ten months in chains under the saier; they suffered dreadfully from hunger and ill-treatment, and were frequently threatened with death. after the fall of khartum they were released, and were told by the khalifa that they should feel thankful to have been in prison, otherwise they would undoubtedly have shared gordon's fate. one of our mission brothers, domenico polinari, was also kept in prison for six months; he was imprisoned the same day that i arrived from kordofan. after the fall of khartum, polinari's brother had been working as gardener in the mission grounds, under his new master, the khalifa sherif. the former gardener, a dongolawi, had been dismissed for dishonesty, and before he left, sherif ordered him to be carefully examined, as it was thought he might have taken some of his master's property. polinari, who was a most conscientious man, and had never even taken a lemon without his master's permission, carried out the search most carefully, and succeeded in getting back quantities of things the thief had made away with. for a time the thief said nothing, but soon his innate danagla astuteness came to his assistance, and he concocted a plan to revenge himself on polinari, and again become chief gardener. the war material, just as it had been left by gordon in the mission house, was still there, and it happened that one day some powder was stolen. in spite of the most careful inquiries, it was impossible to trace the thief, and now the ex-gardener began to throw out hints that polinari was implicated in the theft. a certain hajji zubeir was entrusted with the inquiry. polinari's hut was overhauled, but nothing found in it; his honesty was so well known that no one would credit any evil reports or slander against him. but the ex-gardener was not to be put off. having failed in his first accusation, he now began to spread reports that polinari drank liquor and chewed tobacco, and in proof of this he produced a large glass bottle and some dried herbs; there were some fresh dates in the bottle, with which polinari intended making vinegar, which the gardener insisted was liquor; the dried vegetable was a sort of cabbage which polinari intended cooking for his food, but this the dongolawi asserted to be tobacco. the unfortunate polinari was obliged to walk through omdurman with the bottle on his head, followed by an insulting and disorderly crowd, until he came before the judge. kadi ahmed, who was well known for his partiality to europeans, at once recognised that this was all a trumped-up slander, and was anxious to release polinari; but hajji zubeir, who had still great influence with the khalifa, and instigated by the ex-gardener, sent him off to the saier. every other day we used to send him some bread and dates, but the slave to whom the food had been consigned never delivered it, as we afterwards discovered, and had it not been that two of the sheikhs, who were fellow-prisoners with him, had given him some of their food, he must have died of starvation. amongst the many sudanese who have at various times been inmates of the saier, may be mentioned the aged sheikh of the shukrieh, who had been most loyal to gordon, awad el kerim abu sin--he died in prison; wad zaid, of the debaineh tribe, had been kept in prison four years; then there were ahmed wad suleiman, who had been the mahdi's chief of the beit el mal; saleh pasha wad el mek, one of gordon's principal officers; the ashraf sayid abdel kader and sayid abdel kerim; wad adlan we have already referred to; jabrallah, sultan of darfur, and his five sons, most of whom died; wad en nejumi; sheikh idris; makin wad en nur, and many others. when the khalifa's tribe, the taisha, first arrived, they plundered the market, and abdullah threw of them into prison, "to teach them," he said, "the right way." every night fifty of them were driven into the stone hut, which was, indeed, a terrible change from their forests and plains. every day several died of typhus fever, and now the mere mention of saier makes them tremble; even their head sheikh, el ghazali, whose misfortunes i have already narrated, spent some months in prison before he made his unsuccessful attempt to escape. yasin, a jaali, who had fallen into the hands of the english at toski, and who was subsequently released, and given a letter to take to the khalifa from the egyptian government, had to pay dearly for saying to abdullah that they could not fight against the english. another of the captives taken at toski, but who also returned to omdurman, was much more crafty in his interview with the khalifa; this individual related that, when in cairo, an old monk had said to him, "is not the khalifa of the mahdi called abdullah?" to which he replied, "yes; it is so." "is he not slightly lame?" "yes." "is he not marked with small-pox?" "yes." then the monk said, "do you see this book? it contains the history of the mahdi and his successor, and it is stated in it that khalifa abdullah shall conquer egypt, syria, and mecca." the khalifa was so delighted with the story that, turning round to his people, he said, "you see the christians know perfectly well that mahdiism is not false." the wily author of the story was then given a present of money. occasionally the saier treats his prisoners very cruelly. two fikis who were suspected of being unbelievers were given , lashes each; one died on the spot, and the other a few days afterwards. occasionally he relieves the monotony by giving his prisoners lashes, which is not considered an out-of-the-way punishment. on one occasion, two ababdeh arabs coming from korosko as merchants, were discovered south of metemmeh with rifles in parts, carefully concealed in bales of cloth; letters were also found on them. they were at once considered to be spies, and taken before the khalifa. as soon as it was rumoured that arabs carrying letters for the europeans had been caught, a friend came to me at once, and told me that the letters were sure to be addressed to me. this threw me into a fever of anguish and alarm; i was made a prisoner, and spent that night in the greatest terror. the khalifa had warned us most distinctly not to correspond with egypt, and threatened to imprison us if a letter should ever be discovered. on this occasion i had every reason to be alarmed, for i had already had a similar experience. after father bonomi had escaped, he sent a kababish arab to kordofan to try and secure my escape. the arab remained with sheikh saleh bey, and did not, to my knowledge, ever come to el obeid. when saleh was killed in , they found amongst his papers a letter from father bonomi to me, advising me to trust the arab, who would not fail to guide me safely to halfa. this letter was brought, with the other correspondence, to the khalifa, and was translated to him: he was furious, and had not my guardian angel protected me, i must have been relegated to prison. arabic letters are less dangerous, for they are read out to the khalifa by his secretary, but he is always mistrustful that european letters are correctly translated. how i had longed for letters, even a word from the outside world, or from my relations or friends; but now in my captivity how earnestly i prayed that no letter for me should be found amongst those brought by the arabs! as soon as it was daylight i went out in search of news, and to my delight was told that the letters were in arabic and were not for me, but for some one whom i knew very well. the contents of the letters were quite harmless, merely an interchange of compliments between families in cairo and omdurman, and news of a wedding which had taken place in cairo. however, the two men who brought the letters were in no little fear, thinking they would certainly be executed; but the khalifa had thoroughly mastered their contents, and though it was evening, he mounted his big white horse, in which position he usually made his important speeches to the ansar, and he told them that letters had been captured which had come from egypt and were addressed to the "ansar el gudad" (_i.e._ the "new ansar," or inhabitants of khartum and the blue nile, in contra-distinction to the "ansar el gudum," or old ansar of kordofan, who were the original adherents of the mahdi); that he did not intend to mention the names of the persons to whom the letters were addressed, but he was sure they would spend a sleepless night. the next morning the two arabs were sent to the saier, but their lives were spared. a few days later i went to see neufeld in prison and inquired about the arabs. i saw them both chained, and when they saw me they at once asked me for something, addressing me as baladieh (_i.e._ one of their own countrymen), as they took me for an egyptian; and then they told me in strict secrecy that they had come with the intention of securing the flight of two persons--one mankarius gottas, who had died in galabat, and the other a resident in berber, by whose imprudence they had been betrayed; these unfortunate men had had nothing to eat for three days, so i gave them a few piastres which i had brought for neufeld, and as i did not dare to stay longer with them i begged zogheir to look after them. fifteen days afterwards i returned and found the poor men stretched out dead under the wall, they had died of starvation, and the guards had just come to knock off their chains and carry their bodies out of the yard. the sight of these two ababdehs filled my heart with sadness; there they lay, nothing but a mass of skin and bone; they had come to help poor captives to escape, and this was their own miserable end. this, indeed, was a warning to me to act with increased prudence and caution. an egyptian, born in the sudan, was also sent to the saier for a few months for declaring that he was the fourth khalifa--_i.e._ the khalifa osman. one day this individual had presented himself to the khalifa and begged to be heard for a few moments as he wished to tell him of a dream he had had. it is quite an ordinary occurrence for the ansar to relate dreams flattering to the khalifa, in the hope of getting some bakshish. thus did our khalifa osman relate that in his dream or vision he had beheld the mahdi, who told him to declare himself the fourth khalifa, and therefore he begged that abdullah would confirm him as such and permit him to take his share of authority with the other khalifas; he also begged that all the honour due to him as khalifa osman should be forthwith paid to him. [illustration: charles neufeld.] this poor madman paid dearly for his dream. abdullah merely made a sign to one of his body-guard, on which he was hurried off to the saier, where he received fifty lashes twice a day, and was eventually obliged to confess that the devil had tempted him to strive after this position. charles neufeld remained in the prison longer than any one else. i have narrated in a previous chapter how he had daringly joined saleh's people with the intention of establishing commercial relations with the arabs, and how he was entrapped by the dervishes at the oasis of selimeh. this good man knew nothing of the sudan and nothing about mahdiism, and it was just at this time that the khalifa had made up his mind to crush saleh and his kababish. on the th of march, neufeld arrived in omdurman--a prisoner under a strong escort. news spread like wildfire that an english pasha had been captured, and this caused a great stir in the capital. the khalifa considered him a most important capture, and neufeld was ushered into the presence of the three khalifas and two europeans, who were entrusted with the examination of his papers. neufeld spoke arabic, and was quite fearless. his papers showed that he was a prussian and had studied in the leipzig university. all the documents were most carefully translated to the khalifa, as it was most important to assure him that neufeld was not an englishman, as otherwise it would have gone very hardly with him. there was one letter, however, in english, which, if it had been truthfully translated, would have probably got him into great danger. after the preliminary examination, abdullah's mind seemed to have been put at rest, for he delivered from his high seat a long speech to the inquisitive ansar regarding this great english pasha, who he said had come to the sudan with arms and ammunition, intending to seize kordofan and fight against mahdiism, but fortunately the brave troops of wad en nejumi had met him near dongola, killed his soldiers, and captured him. it was the khalifa's habit to exaggerate facts and thereby encourage the ansar; he also made out his capture was a most important event, for hitherto they had not succeeded in taking even one of the hated english. poor neufeld was therefore thrown into chains and carefully guarded by soldiers; during the whole of that night a fanatical dinka negress, who used to dress in men's clothes and wear a sword, shrieked continuously at him, "allah hu akbar alal kufar!" ("god's power is most great over the unbelievers.") it was decided that neufeld was to be hanged the next morning. very early the khalifa sent orders that the great drum should be beaten, while the blast of the huge onbeïa close to neufeld's ears almost made him fall down from fright. the slaves made game of him as if he were a monkey; but he still kept up courage and answered all these insults with a manly spirit; the rope had been fixed on to the scaffold, and already crowds of people were collected to see the englishman executed. but the condemned man had not yet arrived, for the khalifa's final decision had not been taken. hitherto he had never executed a white man in this open way, and he delayed, because he was still uncertain about his being a prussian. had neufeld been an englishman, there is not the smallest doubt he would have been killed. at length abdullah made up his mind not to kill him, but he determined to frighten him; about midday, therefore, neufeld was taken to the market-place escorted by horsemen; the crowd raised a yell of delight when he appeared, but neufeld fearlessly walked on, and on reaching the gallows he jumped on to the angarib and bent his head so that bringi might adjust the rope round his neck. just at the last moment the judge stepped forward and said that the khalifa had been graciously pleased to repeal the sentence of execution, and neufeld was, therefore, again removed to the lock-up. three days later he was laden with three heavy chains, put on to a camel, and led through all the streets of omdurman, so that every one might see him. he was also taken to a review where the khalifa asked him if the turks possessed as many troops as he now saw before him, to which neufeld replied that the khalifa's troops were more numerous, but that they were not so well drilled in exercises and movements as the turks were. this answer did not please the khalifa; and in order to make him take an interest in the mahdi and his khalifa, he was taken over to khartum and was there shown the mission building, which the mahdi had seized; he was then taken back to the prison, where he remained four years. he was frequently attacked with typhus fever, dysentery, and other ailments, and was terribly stung by scorpions; had not the europeans in omdurman supported him he must have starved to death. the depth of misery to which poor neufeld was reduced may be readily understood when it is known that he spent a whole year in the stone hut, and it was not until he had completed two years in prison that, through the intermediary of a friend, he was allowed to build a little cell for himself in one of the corners of the yard, where he could sleep away from the other prisoners. this little building was about twelve feet square and very low, and here poor neufeld used to sit all day long; his jibbeh was very dirty and swarming with insects, which allowed him little rest at night, and in despair he used to get one of his companions in adversity to rub him with wet sand, which made his skin less irritable; some sympathizing arabs told him to soak crushed cloves in water and then rub his body with the paste; this neufeld found a capital remedy, though it made his skin smart a great deal at first. neufeld's kindness of heart soon won over his guards, and often they allowed him to remain undisturbed in his little hut for the night instead of dragging him off to the stone hut. one evening, hearing that the saier was in a bad humour, he told his guards that he wanted to spend that night in the stone hut; but the soldiers assured him that the moment they knew there was to be an inspection they would at once let him know. so neufeld settled himself to sleep in his cell, when suddenly, about midnight, one of his guards awoke him, saying, "get up quickly! the saier has sworn he will give any one he finds outside the stone hut lashes." neufeld got up as quickly as possible and made his way to the hut, but the chains prevented him from moving rapidly, and when he got to the door he could not turn the key; just at that moment the saier came into the yard, and seeing him, ordered him to be given lashes on the spot; but the soldiers refused to obey--one said he had fever, and the other said that he had been flogging people all day and was too tired. the saier was therefore obliged to call slaves from his own house, who administered the lashes, and left poor neufeld covered with deep scores all over his body. in neufeld obtained a new companion in adversity in the person of a bohemian baker, who had been employed with some greeks at halfa. one day, in a state of semi-intoxication, the baker had left halfa with nothing but his violin, intending to go to sawakin; but he lost his way in the desert, was overcome by thirst, and wandered towards the nile, which he at length reached. quite ignorant of the direction in which he was going, he struck out towards the south, and fell in with a patrol of dervishes, by whom he was passed on to omdurman. on his arrival the khalifa sent him to prison, where he remained two years. neufeld shared his every mouthful with him; but during the famine he suffered dreadfully from want. at length, through the intermediary of the mukuddum in charge of the europeans, he was released; but a few months afterwards he made off to the gezireh. the mukuddum, who had guaranteed him with his head, sent several camelmen in search of him; but there was no trace to be found of him. after a time it was reported that he had died of starvation at rufaa on the blue nile, and this information greatly relieved the khalifa's mind. as for neufeld, we did our utmost to obtain his release; but the khalifa would not hear of it; moreover, false reports were circulated about him. some people who came from dongola said that neufeld, in disguise, had been sent by the egyptian government to find out whether the mudir--mustafa yawer--was still loyal or had thrown in his lot with the dervishes; but in reality it was kitchener pasha who had been entrusted with this mission. on another occasion an arabic newspaper, printed in cairo, was brought to him, containing a paragraph to the effect that an english officer had been captured by the dervishes in dongola. this amazed the khalifa greatly, for at once he believed that he had been deceived and that neufeld was actually an englishman. being, in truth, a mere savage and an ignorant man, he believed that all news in a newspaper must be true, and blamed himself for not having executed neufeld in the first instance; he ordered him, however, to be more heavily chained than before. others again spread rumours abroad that neufeld had come with the intention of aiding slatin to escape--news which enraged the khalifa perhaps more than anything else. thus did neufeld spend four years in prison, and his release seemed hopeless; but we left no stone unturned. we secured the good-will of all the most influential people in omdurman, including even the om el muminin (mother of the faithful--_i.e._ the mahdi's widow) and the sherifa sitt nefisa (the daughter of sidi hassan el morghani), who petitioned very earnestly for his release; but the khalifa would listen to no one. when powder was scarce in omdurman, some one suggested, at one of the khalifa's councils, that it would be much better to make the unbelievers work for religion instead of remaining all day long idle in the saier, and that neufeld ought to undertake the saltpetre refinery. the khalifa said, "do what you think right--i am content." and on the same day neufeld was sent to halfaieh in search of saltpetre; he found some, and a month later was moved to khartum, where he is now working in the old mission-house with an egyptian assistant named said. he still wears one chain on the feet, which, from constant rubbing, has become as bright as silver, while there are great black marks round his ankles. in khartum he is allowed greater liberty than he had in omdurman. in a jewish merchant came from massawa to kassala, where the emir abu girgeh was then commanding. the latter was in favour of opening commercial relations by means of jews, and permitting non-mussulman dealers to come and sell their goods at kassala, or let them go on further into the country. when, therefore, the jew had disposed of his goods, he went, on abu girgeh's advice, to omdurman. on being presented, the khalifa summoned another jew, named passioni, whom he made responsible for the new arrival. but, as usual, the voice of slander was not silent; it was whispered that he was an italian spy, and that it would have been better to have him under surveillance. he had scarcely left the khalifa's presence, when he was recalled and sent to the saier, there to be "educated as a true ansar." the fate of olivier pain and the experiences of neufeld and this jew are sufficient evidence to prove the utter uselessness of attempting to personally enter into commercial relations with the present ruler of the sudan. any one who comes to omdurman need expect nothing but chains, the most terrible form of imprisonment, insults and ignominy from the sudanese. a still worse fate befell sheikh khalil, who was sent from egypt to the sudan on a special mission to the khalifa. in company with an ababdeh sheikh, he arrived at abu hamed, where zogal was at the time. the latter being accurately informed of the nature of his mission, allowed the two messengers to travel without escort to omdurman, and on the journey khalil had opportunities of speaking to the people, and ascertaining how they were disposed to the egyptian government. he saw with his own eyes the devastation wrought by the dervishes and by famine in all the towns and villages along the nile. for some days before he actually reached omdurman, we heard of his approach, which occasioned no small stir in the place. some people thought he was bringing proposals of peace, which, if refused by the khalifa, would oblige the egyptian government to again advance into the sudan; rumours of all sorts were rife, but there was no possible means of knowing the truth. late one evening khalil arrived, dressed as an egyptian, with a long flowing abayeh (mantle). he was taken before yakub, to whom he made over his letter, and was then taken before the khalifa, to whom, it is said, he freely spoke his mind. that same evening he was sent under escort to kererri, where he was put into a hut under a strong guard, but he was not chained. he was supplied with meat, butter, corn and sugar, and a female slave was placed at his disposal by the khalifa, who had purposely sent him out of omdurman to prevent him conversing with anyone, and to keep all information regarding his mission quite secret.[p] in this way the khalifa thought he would give him a different impression of mahdiism, while hajji zubeir was told off as intermediary between khalil and abdullah. it was generally believed that khalil had blamed the khalifa for his ill-treatment and oppression of the moslems, and had shown him how his rule was ruining the sudan. he had begged him to abandon the evil of mahdiism and return to the true orthodox religion. whilst in confinement at kererri he was frequently threatened with death. no one knew what his mission could be, and the khalifa knew how to guard it secretly, so that gradually people began to forget all about him, and great was the surprise when one day khalil and his companion appeared riding on mules at the great parade held during the bairam festival. the khalifa brought khalil here to show him how immense was his power and authority, and just before the parade was concluded abdullah and all the cavalry galloped up to him, surrounded him, and asked whether he would not rather stay in the shadow of the mahdi's dome than return to egypt. khalil, who had now been for upwards of five months in confinement, and thinking that he should never be allowed to leave, and at the same time longing to be allowed to return and report to the government all he had seen, replied diplomatically that having once been in the light he had no wish to return to darkness. this reply delighted the khalifa, who ordered him to be set free, and at prayers in the mosque on that day he sat in the centre of the long line of ansar just behind the khalifa. it is the custom at festivals for all european prisoners, greeks, syrians, jews, &c., to go and offer the khalifa their good wishes. when they arrived on this occasion the khalifa ordered them to be seated around him--he does not allow them to kiss his hand, as he might thereby become contaminated with their impurity; he usually makes a speech, pointing out the punishments which may fall upon them; but this time he was particularly gracious, asked how they were all getting on, and if they had met with ill-treatment or injustice at the hands of anyone. he gave them to understand that they must look on him as their protector, and that should they die their children would become their heirs, and that if a family had no children, the property would be sold and divided amongst the other prisoners. this kindly speech was a great surprise to us all; but the astute khalifa only wanted to show khalil how well he treated his prisoners. it is possible, also, that khalil had observed to him how badly we really were treated, but this is only surmise on my part. abdullah's kindly speech, however, did us much good, for of course all he says goes the round of the whole town, and when the people knew that we had been well received, they showed us much greater kindness and respect. if, on the other hand, the khalifa ever imputes a word of blame to any of us, the reaction on the people is immediate, and we are at once insulted and maltreated. it is always said that "the whites"--which is the name by which we are known in the sudan--"live under the shadow of the sword." the khalifa then asked khalil's companion if he wished to return or stay where he was. the man replied that he was a messenger, pure and simple, and that as such "he should return to him who sent him," and on the same day the khalifa gave him permission to depart. but now evil reports were spread abroad regarding khalil. it was said that he was a great friend of mustafa yawer, the ex-mudir of dongola, and that it was mainly through his influence that he prevented him adopting mahdiism; it was also said that he was the chief of the spies sent by the english, and a bitter enemy to the mahdi. it was imprudent under such circumstances of khalil to go as an envoy to omdurman. he had given his services to the government for this purpose, and he bravely adhered to it; but he was well known to the inhabitants of dongola and dar shaggieh, and it was quite certain that the khalifa would never permit such a man to return to egypt. even in omdurman he would not allow him to be at large. two days later the judges were assembled to consider khalil's case: false witnesses came forward who asserted that they had seen khalil worshipping the sun and frequently turning towards the west at prayers, and all sorts of stories were trumped up to induce the khalifa to put khalil in chains. the pliable judges condemned the sheikh, and he was relegated to the saier. neufeld had to give up his cell, which was made over to khalil. none of the prisoners were allowed to speak to him--thus was the poor man left without a friend or acquaintance to help him; everyone shunned him as if he were the victim of some foul disease. from the earliest days of mahdiism it was always the fate of those who fell in favour to be deserted by all, and this was more especially the case with all those on whom the khalifa's wrath fell. thus everyone--fearing for his own life--avoids all intercourse with such prisoners. when khalil had expended the little money he possessed, he sold his sword, sheepskin, and clothes, and bought bread--such bread too!--even sudanese, who are accustomed to eat all sorts of stuff, could only eat prison bread when hunger had made them like ravenous wolves; but khalil had come from egypt and its flesh-pots, and the sudan bread made him ill. at length he had no more money to buy even bread, and then he suffered the pangs of hunger. for a month before his death his beard had grown quite white, and he himself had become like a skeleton. his wretchedness and loneliness brought on sickness, and he died a miserable death. it occurred on a friday whilst the khalifa was attending a review, and abdullah accidentally fell from his horse on that day, but was caught before he reached the ground. this was considered a very bad omen by the people, who thought that khalil had been unjustly condemned. they believed it pointed to the overthrow of the khalifa's rule, and he himself was very much disturbed. the disloyal ababdehs of hassan khalifa were also locked up in the saier. hassan was a nephew of the former mudir of berber, had been for a long time emir of abu hamed, and during nejumi's advance on egypt had occupied the wells of murat. it was said that when there, he had acted in a most reprehensible manner, and had wrung quantities of money out of the merchants. it was also said that when saleh bey advanced from korosko on murat, he came to an arrangement with him--for he was not a mahdiist at heart--and had retired on abu hamed without attempting to fight. all sorts of reports about him reached the khalifa's ears, but he refused to believe them. when, however, a certain abadi named karrar, one of the khalifa's spies, who had been captured by saleh at murat, for having letters in his possession for the sheikhs in egypt, and had been kept in prison for some months, was released and returned to omdurman, the khalifa then became convinced of hassan khalifa's disloyalty; he sent four of his mulazimin to abu hamed, arrested him and his people, and confiscated all their property. about forty men were thrown into chains, dragged to omdurman and there relegated to the saier; several died of typhus, and the remainder, after two years' imprisonment, were sent as exiles to fashoda, except hassan, who still remains in prison at omdurman. near the saier is another small prison for females, but there are not so many of them. footnotes: [p] khalil had been entrusted with a few lines of a purely non-political nature, politely asking the khalifa to return to the bearer any clothes, papers, &c., belonging to the late general gordon, which his family were very desirous of procuring. he was also given lists of all prisoners captured at toski, showing how they were disposed of in egypt, and a remark was added that when peace and tranquillity were restored between the two countries, they would be permitted to return, but in the meantime they were well cared for.--f. r. w. chapter xxi. lupton bey and the ammunition. the khalifa's powder and ammunition begin to fail--lupton bey makes fulminate--unsuccessful attempts to make powder--yusef pertekachi at last succeeds--the explosion in the powder factory. as a result of constant warfare and the careless expenditure of ammunition, the want of it now began to be sensibly felt by the khalifa, and it eventually became an all-important question. the principal want was caps for the remington cartridges, for, though there were quantities of empty cases there was scarcely any fulminate left. many a starving egyptian began to try and invent some substance which would act as fulminate; there were still a few books on chemistry to be found, but all attempts failed to produce satisfactory results. at last, a certain hassan zeki, who had formerly been a doctor in khartum, invented the substance required. the khalifa told off lupton bey, who at that time was living in the most abject poverty, as his assistant. the first trials of the new fulminate were made in the presence of yakub, and were most successful; the invention proved of the greatest use to the khalifa. the unfortunate lupton bey died on the th of may, , and hassan zeki continued the work. within a comparatively short time he prepared a very large number of caps. abdullah had a special laboratory made, and employed a number of boys as cartridge fillers. it was principally owing to this invention that the khalifa was enabled to conduct his successful campaigns against abyssinia. and now another difficulty arose--this was the scarcity of powder; numbers of persons presented themselves as prepared to make this commodity. an indian, named kamal ed din, came forward amongst others; he had come from india to join the mahdi, passed himself off as a doctor and proudly called himself "physician-in-chief to the khalifa." he had a ready tongue, and soon acquired respect and wealth; he painted his beard red with henna.[q] he had immense powers of persuasion, and thereby obtained a concession from abdullah to make powder. he demanded that a special laboratory should be built for him in khartum, so as to be quite out of observation, and he asked for a quantity of money for the purchase of the chemicals he required. the laboratory was built in the course of a month in the old corn store in khartum, and the work was taken in hand. the indian declared that it was most necessary to obtain phosphorus, and therefore he had all the bones and skulls of the people who had been massacred in khartum, collected, and these he pounded in mortars into very fine flour, much to the annoyance of people who objected to this desecration of the dead. every now and then he applied for more money from the beit el mal, which was supplied to him at once, and now he began to work quite alone and in secret; he put the bone flour in earthenware vessels, poured water on it, and then sealed the vessels hermetically; he now declared that to prepare the chemical substance only, another month was necessary. he therefore stopped work and lived at his ease. at the expiration of the month he secretly opened the vessels; no one had a notion what he was going to do with the bone-paste, but he affirmed that so far everything was most successful, and invited the head of the beit el mal, as well as several emirs, to be present at the trial of the powder. the emirs came and sat in a circle round a furnace which slaves were blowing up with bellows; then the indian produced the vessel, asked the emirs to take some of the substance and throw it into the fire. this they did, and it exploded with a loud report, which greatly astonished the spectators, one of whom then and there, knelt down and offered up a prayer of thanksgiving for the success of the invention. the emirs accompanied kamal ed din to omdurman in triumph, where he also gave proof of the excellence of his powder in the presence of the khalifa. abdullah was wild with joy, and presented the inventor with dollars and a concubine. the indian now returned to khartum with profuse promises that he would supply several hundredweight of the new powder in the course of a month. but soon people began to talk of him as being a cheat and a deceiver; a month passed and the powder was not delivered; the head of the beit el mal became anxious, and reported the matter to the khalifa, who at once sent his brother yakub and wad adlan to make inquiries on the spot; they went, and it was very evident that the indian had been duping them all the time. he was brought before the khalifa, and, strange to say, was not punished. abdullah merely remarked that he was a poor foreigner, and, of course, had to do his best to make a living. it is a curious thing that abdullah has a much greater insight into the ways of foreigners than most natives. a certain mukuddum, however, of the jaalin tribe did not get off so easily. in the days of the government he had practised an extensive fraud in khartum, and also in sennar as an alchemist, and now he came forward to offer his services for the manufacture of lead. at first he had been occupied in making gold, but now to the khalifa lead was even more precious than gold, and the want of it was causing him grave apprehension. the mukuddum's offer was accepted, he received presents from the beit el mal, where he was given a special place in which to carry on his work, and numbers of slaves were placed at his disposal; he was given all the money he required to purchase various things in connection with the manufacture, and which he asserted were absolutely essential. four slaves were told off to keep up an enormous furnace, whilst the mukuddum, his head and shoulders swathed in a great mantle, beat the ground madly with a long whip in order to call the jinns to his assistance. his curious antics greatly astonished the people, and he soon became the principal topic of conversation in omdurman. after fourteen days an enormous lump of lead was drawn out from the furnace, and his reputation was made. the sudanese are great believers in alchemy; and it was thought that the preparation of one of the ingredients required the greatest secrecy. the mukuddum, therefore, worked fully on the superstitious nature of the people, and a thick cloud of foul-smelling smoke was seen continually issuing from his mysterious and dark laboratory. the lead was at once sent to the khalifa, who appeared thoroughly convinced of the miraculous power of the maker, and indeed had the piece brought into the mosque to expose it publicly. the sycophants of course told him that this was an undeniable miracle on the part of the mahdi, who had been the means of supplying the precious metal to his successor through this mukuddum. the manufacturer was now in high favour, the khalifa pressed him to continue the work, and supplied him liberally with money and female slaves. one of the europeans had urged him to desist, telling him that it was quite impossible to manufacture lead; but the mukuddum answered him three times in the most solemn manner: "do you think that you know the knowledge of god?" and then went on with his work. from time to time he continued to send pieces of lead to the khalifa, but his supply only lasted a few months; the more sensible people began to talk, they urged that if he could make one piece of lead, he could also make several hundred-weight. the voice of the detractors grew stronger, the khalifa's suspicions were aroused, and the mukuddum was summoned into his presence. he asked him in the most kind manner if it was a fact that he really knew how to make lead, or if he was only attempting to deceive; if the latter--and he confessed to it--then he might receive forgiveness. but this kindly warning was entirely without effect; the mukuddum boldly answered that he did know how to make lead, and moreover abused his detractors, calling them enemies of mahdiism, who hated the khalifa, and did not wish him to be possessor of the precious metal. he added that, if given sufficient time, he would prove his enemies to be liars. the khalifa permitted him to continue his work a little longer; but the results were still the same, and he was again summoned before abdullah, who now threatened to cut off his hand and foot unless he confessed that he had been practising a fraud; but still the mukuddum persisted in his denial, and the khalifa ordered three chains to be forged for his feet, and had him sent back to his laboratory under a strong escort; he was to be permitted to work for three days longer. he now redoubled his antics, making the dust whirl in clouds about him, and crying on the spirits to aid him. he put a few pounds of substance into the fire--all that was left of his lead-scrapings--but this time the spirits left him in the lurch. bathed in perspiration, he anxiously raked about the coals; but there was no lead to be seen. he begged and prayed for more time, which was granted. but at length one of his slaves let out the secret; he said that the mukuddum used to purchase in the market the lead bullets which had been dug out of khartum, he filed them into thin shavings, mixed them with some concoction, and threw them into the furnace; the melted lead was then drawn off and allowed to cool. on the last occasion he had failed, and now his fraud was fully exposed; the khalifa ordered his hand and foot to be cut off, "not," he said, "so much for the fraud, as for the continual denials." the operation was carried out, but the mukuddum died eight days afterwards of tetanus. the failures of this man and of the indian to manufacture powder and lead did not deter others from continuing their experiments, and amongst the latter was a greek named yusef pertekachi, who continued working on with the most dogged determination. he had tried every plan to gain a livelihood; but whatever he put his hand to, it seemed to fail, and he was soon deeply involved in debt. in his desperate position he determined to study the manufacture of gunpowder. for a whole year he continued his experiments, and in his case the truth of the proverb, "necessity is the mother of invention," was fully exemplified; he succeeded in making fairly good powder. the experiences of the indian and the mukuddum pointed to extreme caution; he did not, therefore, tell adlan, who he thought would not believe him, but after his death he applied to yakub. yakub is a man whom even the leaders of mahdiism find a difficulty in approaching, and poor pertekachi tried for months before he obtained a hearing; but at length he was attended to, and the various trials and experiments of the new powder, both in guns and remington rifles, proved most satisfactory. pertekachi at once rose in favour in the eyes of abdullah and yakub, and was soon comparatively well off. the khalifa ordered a bottle of the powder to be placed in the antik khana, on which was written: "powder invented by the osta (master) pertekachi." at first pertekachi set to work to improve the damaged powder, of which there were quantities of old barrels taken out of the government magazines, but, having been left in damp places, it had become crusted. for several months he continued his work, to the complete satisfaction of abdullah, but the poor man was soon to come to a terrible end. on the th of january, , pertekachi as usual went to the market-place at an early hour to have a chat with the other europeans. he happened to say: "to-day is the anniversary of the fall of khartum--gordon's day--a black day!" in the sudan it is the custom to call a day on which a misfortune has occurred "yom aswad" (a black day). and to the survivors of khartum, the th of january is always looked upon as a day of grief and sorrow; several people give alms for the rest of the souls of their murdered friends. pertekachi had intended to go and look at the new house he had just built; but being the th of january, he would not go to it, and decided to go to the beit el mal instead, where he had some work to do. he found the workmen busy opening one of the barrels of damaged powder, and after taking a cup of coffee, he went to help them, as they seemed to be in difficulty. he had scarcely reached the spot when--owing to a sudden blow or shock, or clumsiness on the part of the workmen--the powder blew up with a most terrific explosion which shook the whole town, and terrified the inhabitants, who rushed wildly about in all directions to see what had occurred. i happened at the time to be sitting at my loom, and at once ran up to the roof of my house, and there, in the direction of the beit el mal, i saw a column of thick smoke ascending. my first thought was for poor yusef. i hastened to the beit el mal, which was half an hour's walk from my hut, and found crowds going in the same direction. the khalifa himself appeared on the scene, he came riding along on a donkey, with only one or two men. his first question was, "osta yusef fi?" ("is the master yusef alive?") "taish enta!" ("may you live!") was the reply. these are the words in which arabs always announce a death. a poor egyptian woman, whose only son was employed as pertekachi's clerk and had been killed, was weeping and wailing in the most heart-rending way--her husband and another son had been murdered in khartum--and now wild with grief she was cursing the mahdi, through whom her dear ones had been brought to an untimely end. some of the ansar approached, and threatened to beat her with a whip if she did not stop. but she shouted at them, "kill me as well! why should i live any longer? you have killed my dear ones--may god kill you!" the khalifa, who was standing near, rebuked his officious followers, saying: "let her weep, she is 'mahar[=u]ka'" (_i.e._ consumed with the pain of affliction). he did not stay long at the scene of the accident, but went away very sadly. all pertekachi's fellow-countrymen hastened to the spot. of the large square house built of rough sun-dried bricks, only the four walls were left standing; the wooden roof had been blown to pieces, and it was no small difficulty to collect the shattered remains of those who had been victimized. a pair of legs were found fifty yards away, a head was found half buried in the wall; there was not a hand to be found anywhere. another greek had been killed with pertekachi, named yusef angeli. his head and feet had disappeared, and his body was so shattered as to be almost unrecognizable; he had been in chains, and his foot makia was found fixed in his leg. poor angeli had led a miserable life in omdurman; he had neither home nor friends, and had lived in the market as a greek hawker. towards the end of he had been sent by another greek to berber, to try and recover a debt for him. this mission was to be carried out in secret, for europeans are strictly forbidden to leave omdurman, and the mukuddum in charge is obliged at once to report any absentees. but angeli was a man of no account, and could easily have gone to berber and back without anyone being any the wiser. a syrian, however, who bore a grudge to the greeks, hearing that angeli had left, went secretly to the khalifa, but as he was at that time staying at his house in the northern hejira, he saw yakub instead; he said that, in accordance with the orders of the khalifa el mahdi, he had to report that yusef had deserted to berber in a sailing boat. yakub at once informed the khalifa, who imagined that it was i who had deserted (my arabic name being yusef), and at once ordered nur el gereifawi, head of the beit el mal, to send camelmen in pursuit. the latter was eventually very annoyed when they found out which yusef it was, for he would not have thought it worth while to send after angeli. the pursuers, however, had gone, and found angeli in the market at berber; they secured him and brought him back to omdurman. pertekachi, who was a countryman of angeli's, had begged that he might be spared, and had obtained a promise from yakub that he should come to no harm. he was brought before the khalifa, and said that he was very poor, and had only gone to berber to recover a debt, in proof of which statement he produced the man's written receipt for the money; but when the camel-men who had captured yusef were asked whether they found any letters on him, they denied it, and in consequence yusef had been sent to the lock-up in the beit el mal. this was only a very special favour, for the _régime_ here is not so severe as in the saier, and prisoners confined in this place generally obtain a speedy release. angeli had to thank no one but pertekachi for this lenient treatment, and his benefactor did not cease begging until he procured the khalifa's permission for him to work at the powder factory at a fixed monthly rate of pay; but he had still to wear one makia, and this pertekachi was arranging to have removed when the terrible catastrophe occurred--he had only been working for three days altogether in the factory. there were, of course, slanderers found, who affirmed that angeli used to smoke cigarettes, and had purposely set fire to the powder in revenge for his captivity, but this time the khalifa would not listen to them. he merely said it is "amr allah" ("god's will"), and added that he was sure yusef would never have deliberately tried to destroy his own and his countryman's life. the force of the explosion had driven the iron into yusef's leg, and it was impossible to take it off; we therefore collected all that remained of the two poor fellows and buried them. the khalifa's enemies secretly rejoiced over his misfortune about the powder, for now, they thought, there will be no one to make it; but one of pertekachi's labourers, who had learnt the manufacture from his master, replaced him as head of the factory. after the catastrophe the factory was removed to tuti island, where a large yard was built, around which the necessary workshops were constructed. footnotes: [q] this worthy was taken prisoner by the egyptian troops at the capture of tokar in february . chapter xxii. agriculture and commerce in the mahdi's kingdom. remarks on the agriculture and commerce of the mahdiist kingdom--a sandstorm in omdurman--the paucity of cattle--system of taxation on imports--provincial beit el mals--local manufactures--slavery and the slave-markets--torture of slaves. in the following chapter i propose to make a few remarks on the agriculture, commerce, and business of the mahdiist kingdom. the greater part of the sudanese live by agriculture and cattle-breeding. agriculture goes on most of the year; the lands are sown during the tropical rains. the winter is called the "kharif," and in omdurman begins in july and lasts till the end of september. during this period there are three or four very heavy falls of rain, usually at night, and occasionally during the day there are heavy storms, which are at times very grand. these outbursts are preceded by great sultriness, the whole ground is hot, everything is burning, even in the shade one dare not touch metal; then in the east a cloud of dust arises, which indicates the coming storm; the clouds bank up with astonishing rapidity, and now it is time for people to make the best of their way home as quickly as they can. the dust-clouds, lighted up by the evening sun, show the exact direction of the storm; some are of an inky black, others gray, and in the distance they can be seen dashing up against one another, and forming, as it were, a series of hills and valleys; yet there is scarcely a leaf moving, and all nature seems hushed. then the storm-clouds seem to touch the earth, there is a sudden rustling of the leaves; the distant houses are lost in obscurity, and now it is time to shut oneself up in one's house. in a few minutes day has been turned into night, the wind howls round the house, windows and doors creak and rattle, till one begins to think in another moment the house will fall about one's ears. lights are used, for now it is blacker than the darkest night; the fine dust penetrates everywhere and covers everything; the heat is overpowering, one perspires at every pore, and the dust cakes on one's face and hands, giving one the feeling of being intensely begrimed and dirty; but there is nothing for it but to wait patiently for the return of daylight, when one rises with one's eyes and mouth full of dust, and nothing but a complete bath makes one feel in any degree clean again. these sand-storms are generally followed by heavy showers, which completely lay the dust. a tropical thunderstorm is also full of solemn grandeur--deafening peals of thunder and howling wind, followed by a veritable deluge, which seems to transform the country into a lake in a few minutes. these sudden storms are a source of no small danger to omdurman, especially in the quarter where the mosque and market are situated. here there is no outlet for the water, which overflows into the yards and houses, and melts the mud-built walls like sugar. during the first year or two of omdurman's existence, and before the people had much experience, several of the huts collapsed during a storm, burying the inhabitants in their ruins. the intense obscurity which always accompanies these deluges adds still more to the general alarm. however, after about two days the whole town becomes dry again; the hot sun and thirsty earth soon absorb all the moisture, and one would scarcely know that rain had fallen. generally about a month before the rains begin, and when the khalifa permits it, the people leave the town in crowds and repair to the fields, which they set to work to clear. after the famine year of the khalifa did everything in his power to induce the people to turn their attention to agriculture. plentiful rain and hard work produced excellent crops in . dhurra, dukhn, cotton, sesame, onions, and various sorts of beans are grown. the operation of sowing requires little time or trouble; the fields are cleared of all the stumps, roots, &c., of the preceding harvest, which are burnt, then every one raises a small bank of earth around his ground, so as to retain the water and enable the earth to become thoroughly saturated. this measure is specially necessary in the gezireh, where the clay soil does not absorb quickly, whilst in the sandy plains of kordofan it is exactly the reverse. as soon as the parched ground has absorbed the first rains, sowing is begun without delay; the soil is turned over with iron or wooden hoes, and the seed thrown down. weeds spring up in great profusion, and it requires endless trouble to prevent their choking the young growth. dhurra ripens in about two months, dukhn in three. the fine quality, such as shilluk dhurra, takes six months to come to maturity. the gathered corn is threshed, and then stored in holes in the ground, where it can be kept without deteriorating for upwards of ten years. along the nile, sowing and reaping goes on the whole year through. water is drawn up by the sakiehs, or water-wheels, and distributed over the fields. after the wars, numbers of these water-wheels which had been destroyed, were reconstructed. now there are a great number in working order, and the banks are covered with green. all work is done with the iron or wooden hoe, and the plough is not used at all. the only plough i ever saw in the sudan was one worked by an egyptian in khartum, and it caused no small astonishment amongst the natives. wheat and maize--or, as it is called in the sudan, "aish er rif" (egyptian bread)--ripens in forty days. in kordofan quantities of broad beans are grown, as well as sesame, sugar-cane, cotton, onions, garlic, bamiahs, radishes, tomatoes, cucumbers, and water-melons; while indian figs, pomegranates, lemons, oranges, citrons, bananas, and grapes are grown in profusion in the khartum gardens. date-palms are plentiful on the blue nile and further south; but it is not possible to dry them, for they at once become full of insects. rain often spoils the date harvest. besides agriculture and cattle-breeding, the sudanese may be called a thoroughly pastoral nation. during the long wars against the government, as well as in the internal disturbances, the camels and oxen were almost exterminated; and in a cattle plague still further reduced the numbers. when fashoda was occupied, quantities of cows were taken from the shilluks and sent either to gezireh or on to the berber market, in order to try and stimulate breeding. there are quantities of goats and sheep, as only a comparatively small number of these have been killed; but the greatest loss has been in camels, and it is not so easy to replenish the country in this respect. there are still a considerable number of donkeys, which are used both for riding and as pack-animals. a good donkey will fetch from forty to two hundred dollars. the sudanese are born traders and dealers; it is almost a passion with them, and they like the travelling which trade involves. of course the flourishing commerce of the old days has been quite destroyed. the import of goods to the sudan from the north and east was formerly in the hands of one merchant. the berber-sawakin and berber-korosko roads were opened through wad adlan, and the re-occupation of tokar by egypt has done a great deal to help commerce. wad adlan's successor, nur gereifawi, established the ushr (or one-tenth tax) on all important goods, in addition to the "zeka," or two and a-half per cent., which was formerly the only tax levied. this increase in taxation has rather impaired than improved trade, but it is still fairly brisk. however, the "ushr" was levied twice, in both omdurman and berber, so that the beit el mal obtained twenty-two and a-half per cent. profit on all imported goods. this exorbitant taxation led to goods being smuggled into the town by night. in spite of every precaution being taken, smuggling still continued; and at last it was decided that all merchants should have their goods stamped at the beit el mal. this stamp bears the words, "ushr beit el mal el umum" ("the tenth--general beit el mal"), and no goods are allowed to be sold unless they are thus marked. the head of the beit el mal himself also went to the market and personally stamped all the private goods of merchants; and in this way the fraud was stopped. a merchant selling unstamped goods would have all his property confiscated. all went well for a time; but soon it was discovered that false stamps were in use. this led to another inspection of all goods in the market, and the confiscation of a considerable quantity of property, an operation which caused business to be suspended for about eight days. large quantities of printed cotton stuffs are imported; also perfumes, medicines, cloves, rice, sugar, and dried fruits. the home-trade is, of course, much brisker than imported trade, and consists for the most part of provision dealing. dongola and dar shaggieh supply omdurman with dates; berber sends salt, mats and baskets made of palm leaves; from kordofan comes gum, sesame, and dukhn; the gezireh exports dhurra, dammur, and cotton; karkoj supplies sesame and a small quantity of gold. omdurman is thus the great wholesale and retail mart, which in turn supplies the provinces. here the whole population--men, women, and children from eight years of age--are all dealers. the older women have their own quarter of the market, in which they sell oil, grease, pearls, vegetables, drugs, dhurra, and dates. young women are not allowed to go to the market; but they send their slaves, who take charge of the goods. the latter are obliged to render full accounts when they return in the evening; and woe to the unfortunate slave who makes a mistake in his calculations! quantities of vegetables are grown in the gardens in khartum, buri, and gereif, and are brought to omdurman for sale. the baggara women are naturally good dealers, and have now secured almost the entire custom. in the early days of mahdiism everyone lived in the most simple way, and dressed even more simply. the staple article of food is dhurra, which is merely boiled, made into a cake and eaten. bread, which is generally known as "kesra," is eaten with a sauce which is usually made of pounded bamiehs boiled with red pepper and salt. sometimes beans are used instead of bamiehs. meat is scarce, but a meat sauce boiled in milk and mixed with pounded dried fish is a favourite dish. quantities of fish are obtained from the nile, and tortoises, which sometimes take the place of meat, are not uncommon. but whilst the rich live in comparative luxury, the poor people exist in the greatest want and misery. good clothing is seldom considered; the richer a man is, the dirtier will his dress be. this is, of course, meant to blind the eyes of inquisitive slanderers. the baggara chiefs have no reason to conceal anything; but it must be quite apparent to all that a form of government which preaches a continual despising of the good things of this life is not likely to promote any of the higher comforts of civilization. in matters, however, regarding war and the preparations required for a jehad, it is entirely different. blacksmiths are always busy forging spears and knives; and in this description of work the results are remarkable. saddlers make every description of leather ornament for horse and camel decoration; tanners prepare the leather, and dye it red or black; tailors now make much better jibbehs than before; the patches are generally made of good cloth, and the best garments are now valued at about sixteen dollars each. the women spin the cotton, and the men weave the dammur from it. the best dammur comes from berber and metemmeh. the darfur women are also famed for their good and even spinning; but abyssinian dammur is generally considered better than any of sudan manufacture. tin-smiths make drinking cups and tin receptacles of various sorts for household use. cooking-pots are made of copper. jewellers make gold and silver filigree work for the ladies; but this work is not nearly as good as it used to be in the days of the egyptian government. all these various trades are carried on in the market. [illustration: a slave-girl from equatoria.] mahdiism has re-established the slave trade, which is now in full vigour, and almost all those slaves who were liberated in the government days have been sold again as slaves. wherever there is a beit el mal there is also a slave-market. the largest is, of course, in omdurman, to which all captured slaves are sent. the beit el mal sells the slaves by auction. well-grown male slaves are generally taken into the army. close to the beit el mal is the female slave-market, where generally fifty or sixty women of various ages are to be found. the slave-dealers are for the most part egyptians. the slaves are arranged in lines under the open sky; their bodies are generally well bathed in oil to preserve the gloss of their skin. intending purchasers make the most careful and minute examination, and the price varies from twenty to a hundred dollars. young females are kept apart from the rest, as they are generally selected as concubines, and as such they are subjected to a most critical scrutiny; the shape of their hands and feet, and the form of their mouth, nose, ears and teeth are all carefully noted. black are preferable to copper-coloured slaves, and the latter colour necessitates a considerable reduction in price. young male slaves are sold at from thirty to sixty dollars each, and these have generally to learn a trade. purchasers ask all sorts of searching questions as to whether they have good moral qualities, are likely to run away, &c., &c. the salesman must produce a certificate showing the tribe, a full descriptive return, and the legal authority entitling to ownership. during the early days of mahdiism the slave trade received an enormous impetus, more especially subsequent to the capture of bahr el ghazal and the occupation of darfur. after gessi pasha's victory over zubeir pasha's son and the dispersion of the slave-dealers, several of the latter fled into the interior, where pursuit was impossible; then followed the era of liberty under the mahdi's banner, the slave-dealers emerged from their hiding-places, and, with quantities of slaves, proceeded to omdurman. when at el obeid i often saw as many as of them marching along to the sound of music. slaves were dragged from darfur, bound together with leather thongs round their necks in batches of thirty. abu anga brought thousands of them from the nuba hills. the only districts untouched hitherto were those in the vicinity of the white nile, but quite recently the garrisons of fashoda, regaf, and lado have been busily engaged in this human traffic; these blacks, however, who during the intervals of peace had been gradually recovering their strength, now determined to resist the dervish authority, which was not very strong in those far-distant districts. it would have been a great thing if the dervishes could have been turned out of lado and regaf. the abyssinian campaigns also brought quantities of slaves to omdurman, but these are little fitted for hard work, and are employed for the most part in grinding corn, carrying water, and as concubines. slave-hunting, too, is not carried on in the same way as it used to be. the khalifa is too knowing to send large raiding expeditions for slaves into the distant provinces, as he fears they might possibly become independent and turn upon him; besides, private individuals are no longer permitted to be in possession of firearms. blacks captured in the khalifa's various wars are sold as slaves, and, while the free mussulman tribes have been greatly weakened and reduced in numbers by war and famine, the blacks have, on the other hand, been growing both in numbers and in strength. there is abundant proof of this in the great difficulties which the dervish force at fashoda is now experiencing, being scarcely strong enough to quit their steamers and sailing boats. the inhabitants of jebel nuba are once more almost independent, and now the dervishes do not dare even to go to the foot of the hills. the withdrawal also of the various baggara tribes from the neighbourhood of shakka, &c., to omdurman has rid the local blacks of their hated presence in their country. the once notorious jaalin and danagla slave-hunters are now beginning to experience in a degree what a slave's life is, and, indeed, it almost seems as if the khalifa abdullah was an instrument of heaven's vengeance on those bloodthirsty and ruthless slave-hunters. the lot of a slave is indeed a miserable one. he is looked upon as an animal created, as the sudanese say, to make the life of moslems easy; he must do all the hard work, both in the household and in the field. it is the idea of the sudanese, that if a slave gets sufficient food he always becomes proud and unmanageable. his dress consists merely of a rag tied round his loins: whatever money he may make by his work is the property of his master. the female slaves carry water and grind corn, in return they are continually blamed and cursed; any disobedience or dishonesty is punished by flogging, or their bodies are gashed with razors, salt being rubbed into the wounds, and, lest they should have any cause to forget, their half-healed cuts are often ripped open again and salt rubbed in afresh. in the treatment of their slaves women are more cruel than men, more especially if jealousy is the cause of their anger. woe to the unfortunate female slave who shows any love for her master! she suffers a species of torture which it would be impossible for me to describe here, and what wonder is it that in despair they often fly from their masters and mistresses? yet it is only by this harsh treatment that slaves can be made obedient; it is a very true saying that a person who is forcibly deprived of liberty can only be brought into subjection by force. slaves under mahdiist _régime_ have so many different ways of revenging themselves on their masters that they never fail to seize an opportunity when it is offered. the immorality of slaves is quite beyond description; but it cannot be the fault of the unfortunate creatures themselves, for in their own savage homes it is not so. they learn all the vices of their masters, and, indeed, are forced to participate in them or submit to a flogging; consequently, disease of the most loathsome kind is everywhere prevalent, and to be free from it is thought to be the mark of a poor creature. in many cases which have come within my own knowledge, the offspring of such people die young, putrid by disease; of fifteen children of one father, thirteen died in five years. at first the baggara were not infected to any large extent, but contact with the inhabitants of the nile valley has communicated the pest, which is now eating into the constitutions of this, the most powerful and warlike tribe in the sudan.[r] export of slaves to egypt and the red sea is forbidden, because the khalifa fears that the english may intercept them and make soldiers of them; but a certain number of female slaves are still smuggled through. by the re-occupation of tokar the red sea route, which had been extensively used, was closed to the dervishes. it is permissible to give male and female slaves papers of freedom, but the custom is never practised. if a female slave bear a child to her master she cannot be sold, and after her master's death she becomes a free woman; if she bear a child to a freed man, who is not a black, her position remains unaltered, and the child grows up a slave, because it is considered to be illegitimate. omdurman is full of slaves; even in the poorest houses one female slave at least will be found. hard work and ill-treatment ages them very rapidly. many of them long for their native homes and detest slavery, but the great majority of them submit without a murmur to their wretched fate. footnotes: [r] the disease lies dormant in the summer, but acquires virulence with cold weather. the medicines used are iodide of potassium and sarsaparilla. chapter xxiii. the baggara masters of the sudan. relations between abdullah and the rival khalifas--mahdiism practically dead--the khalifa's son, osman--his marriage to yakub's daughter--his intentions regarding the succession--the baggara and the aulad-belad--the baggara masters of the sudan--examples of their tyranny--emigration of the rizighat tribe--hostility between the khalifa's and the late mahdi's households--the ashraf conspiracy--witchcraft--the dispute between the khalifas--riots in omdurman--the mahdi's widows. i propose to devote this chapter to a brief outline of the relations which exist between the ruling powers in omdurman, and a description of the present situation in the sudan. the overthrow of nejumi at toski, the destruction of abu anga's immense army during his constant campaigns in abyssinia, the year of famine in , and finally the capture of tokar and total defeat of osman digna in february , have all tended largely towards the diminution of khalifa abdullah's power. whilst the operations against abyssinia and egypt were being carried on, the provinces in the interior of the sudan were slowly recovering from the terrible strain through which they had passed. dongola, kassala, and darfur suffered most. the depredations of nejumi's wild dervishes had entirely desolated the once fertile province of dongola, and is it any wonder that its wretched inhabitants should cast longing eyes towards wealthy and prosperous egypt? but the cunning khalifa was quite capable of coping with this revulsion of feeling on the part of the inhabitants, who were now thoroughly tired of mahdiism, and who were undoubtedly desirous that the rule of the government should again be extended to them. he decided to change the policy of oppression, and to establish a milder rule. for this purpose he had a convenient vision, in which he affirmed that he had been instructed to appoint zogal as emir of the province. this man, it will be remembered, was a native of dongola, an uncle of the late mahdi; had been a government official in darfur, and had more liberal and enlightened views than most of the dervish leaders. the khalifa thought--and thought rightly--that he alone would be able to re-establish contentment in dongola. thither zogal proceeded, accompanied by an enormous family, and under his mild and just rule the province rapidly recovered. the sudan, as a whole, has considerable recuperative power, and, in spite of the khalifa's senseless rule, would soon recover if placed under good subordinate governors. the desolation in darfur, however, had been more widespread; there was not enough cultivation even to supply the wants of the garrison required for its occupation; it was therefore abandoned, but the khalifa is still very anxious to re-occupy it when he can. abdullah employed himself, during the period of rest and cessation from war, in consolidating his power, and from the various means which he employs it is quite evident that his intentions are to establish an empire for himself, his family, and his baggaras; he proceeded, however, in this task with prudence and caution. it is natural that the struggle for mastery between the spiritual authority represented by the religious side of mahdiism, and the temporal authority of the khalifa, should constantly clash and lead to a state of insecurity and uncertainty throughout the sudan. what the inhabitants desire is that the khalifa should tell them the truth plainly; let him abolish mahdiism, which exists merely in name, and let him proclaim himself sultan of the sudan. he has the power and authority sufficient to do this, but he fears that it might give his enemies another arm which might be turned against him; he therefore advances very slowly with the project on which his mind is bent. from the way in which his eldest son osman is being brought up, it is evident that abdullah seeks to establish an hereditary succession. this youth was, until recently, of a most overbearing disposition. whenever he saw anything he wanted, he insisted on its being given to him. if he saw someone riding a good donkey, he would order the rider to dismount, and would deliberately cut the poor animal's throat; but in spite of these foolish and cruel acts, his favour was much sought after, and many a present did he receive from people who looked for a favourable means of bringing their demands before the khalifa; but the latter eventually became exasperated by his son's conduct. he rebuked him openly in the mosque, forbade everyone, under pain of severe punishment, to give him a present of any sort, and he made him over to a tutor with a few taisha mulazimin. this strict _régime_ has already done the boy good. he is now about eighteen years of age. it was said that the khalifa's brother yakub was very jealous of his nephew, for he had looked on himself as abdullah's successor; but, to flatter yakub and curb his jealousy, the khalifa expressed a wish that osman should be betrothed to his daughter. this proposition was most acceptable to yakub; and further, the khalifa arranged that his daughter should be married to the mahdi's son. great were the preparations for these princely weddings, which were carried out with a splendour entirely at variance with the late mahdi's laws. the betrothal ceremony was accompanied by dancing and merry-making in both the mahdi's and the khalifa's households, and the air reeked with perfumes. all the principal merchants and emirs gave rich presents in the shape of brides' dresses and varieties of costly perfumes; nor were gold and silver ornaments and velvet missing. the goldsmiths have invented a new form of jewellery, which has been named "the khalifa's stirrups." these ornaments, although absolutely opposed to mahdi laws, are extensively worn in both households. hundredweights of sugar were brought to yakub's house, besides dhurra, wheat, butter, oxen, and fat-tailed sheep, which latter are valued at from twenty to thirty dollars a head. it is usual for the bridegroom, or the bridegroom's father, to offer presents of provisions to the bride, as well as clothes and ornaments, which are all handed over to her with great ceremony on an appointed day. then there is the festival of "tefail," to which women only are admitted, after which comes "henna day," when the hands and feet of the bride are dyed red with henna. all these ceremonies are accompanied by banquets, dancing, and singing. every evening yakub entertained hundreds of the ansar with rich food, and distributed several ardebs of dates. on the occasion of the "dakhul" the bride is taken to the bridegroom's house late in the evening; for seven days afterwards they receive the congratulations of their friends, and then the ceremony and festival are ended. from the pomp and ceremony with which the khalifa surrounded his son's wedding, it is evident to all who thought about the matter that he had secret intentions. after the wedding he had a princely house built for his son, in the place known as abu anga's yard, near the mosque; this he quite disfigured by building houses all around it, which are considered the best in the town. when the palace was completed, the "heir apparent," who had hitherto been living with his father, moved into it with great ceremony. the khalifa gave alms in a most liberal manner, so that his son's residence might be blessed. sayid osman already takes part in the conduct of affairs, and opens and reads the letters to the clerks. almost every morning he rides round with the governor on his inspections, but he does not live much amongst the people. the khalifa has changed his name into sheikh ed din sayid osman, and now he is generally known as sheikh ed din only; he quite understands the _rôle_ he has to play. he is a lover of good food, and rejoices in the little specialities which the merchants bring from sawakin and egypt, such as kamar ed din, dried figs, raisins, and all sorts of cakes and biscuits, which are brought in abundance to yakub's house. the khalifa treats him with marked respect, occasionally hands over the command of the parade to him, and the soldiers always present arms to him. from the above it is quite evident that abdullah wishes to secure the succession to his son. this is perfectly understood by the people, who make no secret of it. the khalifa's plan is to go slowly but surely. he wants to secure the ascendency of the baggara over the jaalin, danagla, barabra, and other smaller tribes of the sudan. until the appearance of the mahdi, the baggara were, perhaps, the most despised of all the arab tribes. the "aulad-belad," as the jaalin, danagla, and barabra are called, had become more civilized in virtue of their geographical position, and are far more crafty by nature than the baggara; they despised the latter, and under the leadership of zubeir pasha, they defeated the great tribes in the neighbourhood of shakka, and it is these same baggara who are now their masters. all the mahdi's early victories had been gained by the aulad-belad, who held the baggaras in much the same contempt as they did the fellahin of egypt. they are cunning, corrupt, and utterly untrustworthy, and from the beginning have practised far more cruelty than the others. even now they are still the khalifa's spies and advisers--indeed, he was brought up entirely in their school, but has now completely turned the tables on them. the intertribal discord and mutual distrust which prevails amongst the aulad-belad only tend to further the ends the khalifa has in view. wherever craft and subtlety are required, thither he despatches them, in the full assurance that as long as they are engaged in finding out the misdeeds of their own countrymen he will be well and loyally served by them. when the baggara are sent to search a house in which it is supposed marissa-drinking or smoking is going on, they are almost certain to find out nothing; but with the aulad-belad it is exactly the reverse; they poke into the walls and tap the ground to hear if there is any hollowness in the sound; they search every corner most thoroughly, and seldom leave empty-handed; but the baggaras have now got the upper hand, and the aulad-belad must bow down before them. in spite of this, however, they manage to deceive their new masters, and in all matters where cunning is required they are far superior to them. it is only right that the baggara, who have been brought up in the forests and plains, and who are far more simple-minded, honest individuals, should rule the corrupt aulad-belad; their emigration to omdurman and their submission to the khalifa's rule has had the advantage of taming them, and their advances in civilization are quite astounding. being now possessed of power and money, they have begun to build better houses, to wear cleaner clothing, and to occasionally wash their jibbehs, which were reeking and besmeared with oil and fat; the khalifa has done much to improve their manners and customs in this respect. their west-country arabic dialect has greatly improved; now the two opposition parties can thoroughly understand each other, and the aulad-belad no longer make a laughing-stock of their western brethren. the khalifa's policy is to weaken the power of the aulad-belad and to strengthen the baggaras. just as a good father watches his children, so does abdullah watch for every opportunity to further these ends by a clever combination of leniency and severity. he frequently blames his own countrymen for their want of gratitude to their benefactor, who has heaped favours upon them at the expense of the aulad-belad. on one occasion he cursed the day on which he had brought them to omdurman, calling it a "black day;" but, in point of fact, he is not really serious when he upbraids them, he rather does it to satisfy the complainers, and he takes every opportunity of sending the aulad-belad as far away from headquarters as possible, so as to strengthen his central authority by the presence of baggaras only. i have already narrated how in the famine year he made the baggaras pay only six dollars for an ardeb of dhurra, whilst everyone else had to pay sixty dollars for the same quantity; thus the baggara suffered no hardships and want during that terrible time. they do not like dhurra as well as dukhn, which is more nourishing, and which they grind in wooden mortars. during that period of awful want, when hundreds of natives were dying of starvation in the streets, these great strong baggaras were eating to their hearts' content, completely regardless of all the suffering creatures around them. the revenue of the beit el mal is expended almost entirely on the baggaras; all the fertile islands in the neighbourhood, and the best-cultivated portions of the nile banks as far as berber, have been made over to them, whilst the original owners of the soil have been turned out without a piastre's compensation; they are, therefore, owners of all the best lands, and serve as a foreign garrison in occupation of a conquered country. woe to the native who happens to have a baggara as his neighbour! his cattle are robbed, and he must share the product of the fields with his overbearing master; wherever they go the baggaras take their horses with them, which must be fed and cared for at the expense of the local inhabitants; complaints against baggaras are not taken the slightest notice of, or--as it more often happens--the complainant receives a heavy punishment for having ventured to make a statement which is invariably construed as untrue and incorrect. thus these bold tribesmen have every inducement to become more and more truculent the further removed they are from the khalifa's supervision. i will cite an example. a rich native of the gezireh had a dispute with a baggara, and struck his oppressor a blow with a stick in self-defence. fate decreed that the baggara should die twenty-eight days afterwards, but his death was not caused by the blow; the other baggaras, however, seized the opportunity of demanding blood-money, and if refused they threatened to report the matter to the khalifa. the stupid native was actually intimidated into giving the baggara , dollars, and the matter was declared to be ended; but somehow it came to yakub's ears, and learning that the supposed murderer was a very rich man, he advised the friends of the deceased baggara not to accept blood-money, but to insist on the native's death. this was agreed to. the poor man was arrested, dragged to omdurman, and hanged; whilst his property, consisting of a number of goats and , dollars, was confiscated. not content with this, the khalifa also ordered that the seven villages in the neighbourhood should be burnt, on the plea that the inhabitants had made common cause with the murderer in resisting lawfully constituted authority; and it was only when the inhabitants of these villages went _en masse_ to the khalifa, begging to be spared, that he at length acceded to their request. when it was found that the revenue of the beit el mal was insufficient to provide for the rapidly-increasing baggara population, abdullah ordered half the produce of the gezireh lands to be given to the beit el mal, the other half being retained by the owners. this was published as a solemn decree, and all judges enjoined to see that it was properly carried out. ibrahim nur, the son of nur gereifawi, was sent with a body of soldiers and baggara to assist in carrying out the order in the gezireh, and he gained an unenviable notoriety for the ruthless severity with which he enforced his authority. in accordance with the khalifa's instructions, out of every hundred ardebs he seized a half, and on the remaining half he levied the "ushr" and "zeka" taxes, so that eventually the unfortunate cultivator retained only thirty-seven and a half per cent. of his original quantity; besides, he was made responsible for the transport to the river of the sixty-two and a-half per cent. frequently the fields were far distant from the river, which involved hiring camels to carry the grain, so that finally the owner was probably left with absolutely nothing. in this way ibrahim gathered upwards of , ardebs from the blue and white niles. ibrahim gained the title of the "gordon of the gezireh" from the extraordinarily rapid way in which he moved from one village to the other and gave his instructions. here is another proof of the khalifa's injustice when dealing in matters concerning his own countrymen. about two days' journey from omdurman up the white nile are certain very highly-cultivated districts, and it occurred to the khalifa to send there the taisha who were not then employed, so that they might cultivate and at the same time remain in touch with him. he therefore sent a certain sheikh wad el bedri to select the most favoured spots in which the taisha were to settle. when the inhabitants of these districts learnt what was intended, they begged and prayed wad el bedri to avert this terrible calamity which threatened them, assuring him that if he would assist them they would do anything he wanted, short of having the baggara as settlers in their country; this request they accompanied with a good round sum of money. bedri then returned to omdurman, waited on the khalifa with a most beaming countenance, and reported that the inhabitants of the white nile were very pleased that the khalifa of the mahdi[s] had been graciously pleased to think of sending the taisha to their country; but at the same time they most humbly begged to submit to him that possibly the taisha might find it a trouble to move so far with their families and followers. if, therefore, the khalifat el mahdi should, in his great wisdom, deem it advisable, they were quite ready to send to their masters everything they required, and so spare them the toil of making this extended emigration. abdullah seemed delighted with this proposal, praised sheikh wad el bedri for his services, and agreed that his suggestion should be carried out. the sheikh appealed to his countrymen, and in one year collected over , ardebs of dhurra, besides a quantity of money, which was distributed amongst the taisha, who from that day looked on him as one of their best friends. there is among the baggara a curious ejaculation of "hai! hai!" constantly interspersed throughout their conversation. the sudani feels far more terror at this sound than he ever felt at the sight of the egyptian officials' red tarbush. all high posts are in the baggaras' hands, or rather in the hands of the khalifa's nearest relatives. the emirs of kordofan, regaf, fashoda, galabat, kassala, and berber, are all abdullah's relatives. dongola was the only place of importance not confided to a baggara, but now zogal has fallen in favour and has been replaced by the baggari yunis. some of the subordinate posts are, however, still in the hands of the aulad-belad, but, gradually, as the baggaras become capable of carrying out the duties, they will replace the natives. not content with having brought the taisha, homr, and habbanieh arabs from the west to the nile, he has still further weakened the aulad-belad by obliging the powerful rizighat tribe to emigrate from their country, south of darfur, to omdurman. their young sheikh musa--son of madibbo, who had been killed by abu anga at el obeid--was entrusted with this mission, and he marched through kordofan with some , souls, besides quantities of horses and cattle; his vanguard had reached shatt on the white nile just at the time that i effected my escape. the khalifa had appointed a committee under the notorious hajji zubeir to organize a great reception for the new arrivals, and had made a long speech in the mosque calling on everyone to come forward liberally with gifts for their brethren. he urged that alms should not be stinted, but that clothes, corn, and all sorts of provisions would be gratefully accepted, even to the "fartaga" (or smallest copper which is coined). every emir was instructed to let his followers know of the khalifa's wishes; he was to collect the gifts and hand them over to the committee. if the gifts were considered too small they were returned with a strong hint that it would be advisable to increase them. merchants were especially called upon to give largely, and if they failed to comply they invariably incurred his displeasure. the list of gifts was scrutinised by the khalifa daily, and his favours apportioned in accordance with what he found there. he was careful not to allow the rich to give sparingly; for instance, kadi ahmed presented ardebs of dhurra, complete suits of clothes, consisting of takias, turbans, jibbehs, pairs of drawers, leather girths, and pairs of sandals; still abdullah was not satisfied and asked why he had not given any money, and immediately the kadi, terrified at the khalifa's displeasure, laid a considerable sum at hajji zubeir's feet. the merchant omar kesha, who had acquired much wealth, had on one occasion been deprived of , dollars by the khalifa on the plea that much money was apt to take his mind off heavenly considerations. two years later a similar sum was again taken from him. on the occasion of the arrival of the rizighat, however, he presented a camel-load of sugar, a camel-load of white muslin, and another of indigo-dyed calico, besides a quantity of kamar ed din, ardebs of dhurra, a camel-load of dammur, and a completely-equipped war-horse with its attendant. wealthy men offer lavish gifts, in the hope of immunity from plunder, and omar kesha, in addition to his generosity on this occasion, does not fail to frequently offer valuable gifts to yakub. as for the khalifa, he is perfectly aware that with one word he can, with absolute right, demand anything and everything he requires, for had not the sudanese solemnly pledged their property, their children, and their own lives to the cause of the mahdi and his successor? [illustration: a baggara woman.] while in kordofan the mahdi had professed that he was virtually the owner of all property, but that he left it in the hands of its original tenants that they might administer it until he should require it; and now no stone is left unturned to enforce his theory of the true ownership. the khalifa directs his special attention to the merchants, who, he supposes, make large profits out of commerce and trade. hitherto the baggaras have had nothing to do with external commerce, they never go to sawakin or to egypt. all trade with the outside world is conducted by hadarba, jaalin, danagla, and barabra merchants, also on the southern frontier of egypt by ababdeh and kenuz people; but in omdurman itself the baggaras, and especially the women, take a large share in the retail business. although they have scarcely ever owned a piastre in their lives, the shining dollar has excited the most inordinate cupidity amongst them. they are very quick to learn, and already surpass the aulad-belad in many branches of trade; this fact has delighted the khalifa, and he encourages it to the fullest extent. the continuous support which the khalifa gives to his own compatriots at the expense of the rest of his subjects not unnaturally irritates the latter, and out of their oppression a species of courage has sprung. the khalifa sherif bitterly resents being debarred from all share in the government of the country. he is highly favoured amongst the late mahdi's widows, and the ashraf look to him as their head. abdullah, however, employs every means to lower his position and diminish the respect in which he is held by the ashraf, whose loose mode of life he never loses an opportunity of exposing. for instance, ahmed sharfi's second son had a concubine to whom he was much devoted, and who used to saddle his horse for him herself; but in secret she was not always faithful to her master, and when one day he returned to find her absent, he revenged himself on her return by hanging her with his own hands. when this outrage came to the khalifa's ears, he ordered the perpetrator to be imprisoned and all his property confiscated, whereas, according to mahdi law, a master has complete power to deal as he likes with his own slaves. another of ahmed sharfi's sons was discovered to be leading a very immoral life, and he was exiled up the white nile. another similar and even worse discovery, of which the principal agent was one of the mahdi's near relatives, gave abdullah an opportunity of openly accusing the ashraf of leading lives which did not entitle them to the smallest respect; and having established this fact, he set to work in the most public manner to show them every mark of disrespect. the mahdi's uncle, sayid abdel kader, a very proud man, who prior to, the mahdi's appearance had gained a livelihood by doctoring donkeys, thought, under the altered circumstances, that his profession was not a very honourable one; he therefore took to doctoring human beings with the aid of a few old arabic books on medicine which he possessed. he made no secret of his dislike of abdullah, and openly deplored the decay of true mahdiism; he never attended at the mosque, and studiously avoided the khalifa on every occasion. abdullah, however, was fully alive to the situation, sayid's every step was dogged by spies, and at length, when his impudence got beyond all bounds, the khalifa suddenly summoned him to the mosque, and addressed him publicly as follows--"why should you not come to the mosque twice a week and greet me occasionally?" the sayid replied proudly, "i worship god and pray to him daily in my house." this speech greatly annoyed the khalifa, who replied, "pray in your house; but i shall cut off the hand and foot of everyone who associates with you, whether in your house or out of it, and i shall send to your house to have all these arabic books removed; you can then pray to god without distraction." suiting the action to the word, he at once had the sayid's books seized and burnt. after this abdel kader thought it as well to pray five times a-day in the mahdi's mosque. thus the breach between the mahdi's and the khalifa's households is widening daily; the former are continually holding secret meetings and consultations, of which the latter takes good care to be fully apprized. another individual--a certain ismail el kheir--who had been one of the mahdi's most fanatical adherents, but who, after the mahdi's death, had shown a tendency to side with the khalifa sherif and to be unfriendly to khalifa abdullah, was one day suddenly ordered to be ready to start for regaf in half an hour. it was rumoured that abdullah had discovered he had been attending the secret meetings of the ashraf. i will cite yet another case. a certain wad el banna, a good man and a well-educated moslem, had the khalifa's special permission to retain a number of historical works on islam, which he frequently read to him and the ansar after prayers in the mosque. being in high favour, and a great personal friend, the khalifa sent him late one night a very beautiful female slave; but when she arrived at the house, wad el banna was nowhere to be found, and it was discovered that he was with the khalifa sherif. the next morning abdullah announced that he deserved to be hanged; but as he had been very fond of him, he forgave him for the mahdi's sake; but ordered all the books to be burnt, and that he should be transported to regaf. just as the steamer was about to sail with wad el banna on board, the khalifa recalled and pardoned him. there was now little doubt that the ashraf were forming a conspiracy; the immediate result of this discovery was the sudden arrest and imprisonment of zogal, which caused no small stir. then followed the arrest of fadl maula (afterwards known as abdel maula), which created still more excitement. fadl maula was the late abu anga's brother, and commanded the black troops in omdurman. he was a man of great influence, not only on account of his brother's reputation, but he had also performed a number of valuable services for the khalifa, notably at the time of the dispute regarding the mahdi's successor. he lived near gordon's fort of omdurman, enjoyed a high position, and acquired a large number of the most handsome women in the sudan for his harem. these ladies lived in the highest luxury. he built good houses for them, and in the evening he had a band of fertit blacks, who played before them on a variety of instruments. he was perhaps of all the emirs the most favoured. he had no scruples in going round his men's quarters picking out the good-looking women and sending them to his harem; but this debauched and extravagant mode of living soon brought its reward, and he became affected by a sort of leprosy which seemed to have touched his brain. he became violent, and had to be put in chains. he lay for months in this condition, and no medicine was given to him to ease his pain. at length a fiki was summoned who declared the disease to be the result of witchcraft, and he volunteered to find out by whom this evil had been practised on him. one of abdel maula's wives was a young girl of great beauty, who was preferred to all the rest, and who lived with her mother. love, however, soon grew cold, and he became enamoured of another of his wives; but the mother of the cast-off girl determined to be revenged, and to aid her in her object, she sought the assistance of a fiki, who gave her a number of amulets, for which she paid him well. these bits of paper she placed under the iron platter on which abdel maula's bread was baked, and gradually he grew worse and worse in health. at length the papers were discovered, and everyone was convinced that his illness had been caused by witchcraft. the woman was tried, found guilty, and had her hand and foot cut off. abdel maula did not recover for many months, and the unfortunate woman had been sacrificed to the fiki's deception. the people are still very credulous, and it is impossible to make them give up their belief in these superstitious fikis. once, out of pure curiosity, i quite convinced myself that this supposed witchcraft was a mere deception on the part of a clever fiki. abu anga's death and abdel maula's illness greatly affected the latter's influence, besides he was looked upon with jealous eyes by the taisha. his overbearing manner to yakub, which made the latter his sworn enemy, also contributed to his downfall. detractors were not wanting who declared that he appropriated the dhurra issued by the beit el mal for his troops. the khalifa therefore ordered his property to be confiscated, and reduced the number of his wives from thirty-one to three. irritated beyond measure at this treatment, he openly abused the khalifa and yakub; but was thrown into chains and delivered over to the tender mercies of the saier. the upshot of a meeting of the three khalifas and the kadi in ahmed sharfi's house, still further widened the breach. sharfi is known as the "gidd el ashraf" (or grandfather of the ashraf), because his daughter was the mahdi's mother--abdullah himself generally addresses him as "gidd," and, by way of a joke, his house is known as the "mudirieh," because it is a large square yard with numbers of small rooms ranged around the inside walls in which the numerous wives dwell. sharfi is an astute and crafty old man; he sees perfectly well that, under existing circumstances, it is quite useless to try and overturn the present baggara authority. he flatters the khalifa in the most obsequious manner, constantly gives him presents, and has even gone as far as to give up associating with the mahdi's household, lest suspicion should rest upon him. but to return. the four met one evening, the great gate was closed, the mulazim kept guard outside, while within the discussion waxed hot. khalifa sherif reproached abdullah bitterly for non-adherence to the mahdi's precepts. he accused him of oppressing the people, and governing without the co-operation of himself and ali wad helu. he urged that the proceeds of the beit el mal were reserved exclusively for him and his baggaras; that he had built good houses for himself and his emirs, whilst the mahdi's household continued to live in a zariba; that his brother yakub had considerably more authority than either of the two khalifas; that the mahdi's wives were living in absolute want whilst the baggaras had every luxury; in short, he accused abdullah of having made mahdiism into an entirely worldly and temporal power, instead of upholding the religious precepts on which it had been founded. these unreserved expressions led to a fierce dispute, swords were on the point of being drawn, when ahmed sharfi and the kadi with tears implored them to stop quarrelling. it was now past midnight, and yakub, alarmed at abdullah's absence, arrived with a party of soldiers and several baggaras at the great gate, and began rapping violently with their spears; they shouted, "let our khalifa out!" the noise outside had an instantaneous effect on the disputants within. abdullah solemnly swore on the kuran that he would act entirely on the advice of his colleagues in the matter, and with that assurance the stormy meeting broke up. his appearance at the gate was hailed with delight, and he was conducted home with rejoicing. but in spite of these events there was no real reconciliation. sherif continued to agitate secretly, whilst the mahdi's wives, who looked upon him as their protector solemnly appointed by the mahdi, added fuel to the fire. they had some cause for discontent. after the mahdi's death they were taken little notice of; abdullah did not trouble himself about their wants and had it not been for ahmed sharfi, they must have starved. being the mahdi's widows, they were not allowed to marry again, and were not even permitted to move beyond the palace precincts. this enforced confinement so irritated these good women that they decided to go _en masse_ to the khalifa, and demand either their liberty or that they should be well treated. ahmed sharfi, learning of their resolution, did all in his power to quiet them, and promised that he would intercede with the khalifa for them. this he did, and abdullah feigned complete surprise, said he had been under the impression that they had been supplied from the beit el mal with all they required, and that he himself had repeatedly given orders to nur gereifawi to that effect. this was a fact, but--as it frequently happens--yakub had taken it upon himself to give counter-orders; the blame was, of course, laid on gereifawi, who was ordered to at once issue dollars to the widows, half in clothes and half in cash, and so these noble ladies were for the time being satisfied. about a month after the meeting i have just described the smouldering fire broke out with renewed vigour. about two days before the actual climax, i was told in the greatest secrecy by a friend, that in a few days a rupture must occur, that khalifas sherif and ali wad helu, as well as the principal aulad-belad emirs, had solemnly sworn on the kuran either to overturn khalifa abdullah, or die in the attempt. i could scarcely credit this news, for sherif was a young and inexperienced man, and had hitherto given no proof of any special ability which would induce the confidence of others; he appeared to me as a man utterly absorbed in a life of sensual pleasure. but the following day my friend again told me that his first information was quite correct; however, i persisted in saying that i would not believe it till i saw it. so well had the secret been kept, that the aulad-belad merchants were unconcernedly taking their goods away from the market as usual, and the khalifa and his household knew nothing of it, for one of my friends, who lived close to the palace, declared to me that the whole matter was pure invention. on tuesday, the th of november, , a rumour suddenly spread through the town that sherif had decided to resist. the market was at once closed, and people went to their homes as quickly as possible. the whole place was in a state of alarm and excitement. baggaras seized the opportunity to plunder and rob, and i could not learn the actual circumstances which led to the outbreak, as all that day i remained in my hut, and the following day i made my escape. some said that the people had risen because the khalifa intended to execute zogal; others, that abdullah had secretly intended to proclaim his son as his successor, but that sherif had violently opposed the idea. possibly it may have been that the khalifa--on the principle of weakening the power of the aulad-belad--had ordered that an expedition of , of them, under the command of wad el ireik, should proceed to kassala to fight against the italians; besides, abdullah had the intention of sending karamallah--the capturer of lupton bey--and his brother kerkesawi, with a force to bahr el ghazal, and it was thought that these two most deliberate attempts to get the aulad-belad out of omdurman had been the real cause of the outbreak. tuesday passed without disturbance, but every one was prepared for wednesday. on that day the khalifa ordered that everyone should stand to his flag, and that all the ansar should attend at the mosque. but the whole affair turned out to be a ridiculous farce. khalifa sherif with a few danagla had barricaded himself in the mahdi's zariba; he had altogether about fifty remington rifles. how could he attempt resistance with a feeble force of this description? he had acted most imprudently; still, in secret, the aulad-belad would all have liked to support him, but not one of them had the courage to come forward, though there were a very large number of them in omdurman. the mahdi's widows, however, showed far more determination. they dressed themselves in jibbehs, armed themselves with swords, and, forming a compact little body, they swore rather to die than submit. in accordance with the khalifa's orders, the palace, the mosque, and the road between the mahdi's dome and the mosque, were all occupied by the ansar on wednesday, whilst the black troops completely surrounded the mosque. yakub was made responsible for distributing ammunition. possibly sherif may have thought that the aulad-belad would have joined him, but not one of them dared to leave the ranks. numerous horsemen wearing coats of mail and helmets were entertaining the crowds by their furious galloping, and in abdullah's entire force there was general rejoicing. at about a.m. sherif opened fire, and seventeen baggaras fell; the blacks returned the fire, and killed seven of sherif's men. abdullah would not allow the ansar to fire, and it was with the greatest difficulty that he succeeded in holding back the wild baggaras. the few shots that had been fired startled the whole of omdurman; everyone went to his house and armed himself as best he could. meanwhile the baggara horsemen had left the actual scene of action, and were now scattered about the town looting, robbing, breaking into houses, wounding people, and seizing women, slaves, ornaments, &c. when abdullah heard of this, he lost no time in sending yakub's horsemen to keep order; but many of the robbers made off with their booty. in the evening it was rumoured that a reconciliation had been effected. khalifa helu, ahmed sharfi, and sayid el mek had been the mediators. sharfi had attempted to explain to the mahdi's widows that all resistance was useless, but they tore his jibbeh, and drove him off. on thursday the khalifas all met under the mahdi's dome, and there abdullah, with tears in his eyes, solemnly swore to accede to all his opponent's wishes, which were that he should receive one-third of the army, one-third of the arms, and of the beit el mal revenue, and that, moreover, he should take part in all meetings and deliberations. it was quite apparent that abdullah never seriously intended to fulfil these conditions. he could have instantly suppressed the outbreak had he wished to do so, but he wanted to show that he still greatly honoured and respected the mahdi's family. at noon the mulazimin marched through the town, heralds announced that tranquillity had been restored, and that people should return to their daily avocations. on friday the usual review took place, but none of the notables were present, and most of the troops continued in occupation of the mosque and palace. on saturday there was another alarm, for sherif had declined to hand over his arms, but that evening his submission was publicly announced. i did not hear the details, for on sunday, the th of november, , i quitted omdurman in the dead of night. footnotes: [s] abdullah does not like being addressed as khalifa only, but if he be approached as khalifat el mahdi, and if the words "aleh es salam" ("on whom be peace") be added--a term which is only used when speaking of the prophet--he is even more gratified. chapter xxiv. preparations for the flight. ohrwalder forms plans for escape--the fate of other europeans attempting to fly--stricter surveillance--ohrwalder's means of livelihood--letters from cairo--the faithful ahmed hassan discloses his plan--archbishop sogaro--miseries of captivity in omdurman--death of sister concetta corsi--preparations for flight. the reader will readily understand that all this time i had not lost sight of the object which had been next my heart, which was to regain my liberty and escape from my miserable surroundings. when i quitted el obeid, i then thought that, once in omdurman, escape would not be so difficult, and during my long journey to the mahdi's capital this thought had buoyed me up. at any rate i was one step nearer attaining my wish, for at that time the restrictions on europeans were not so severe, and they were permitted to trade and travel as far as ed damer, to which place egyptian merchants freely came and went. on my arrival in omdurman, a greek offered me hospitality, which i gratefully accepted. i had resolved to search about in the town for a trusty friend, who would help me towards the attainment of my object. it had occurred to me that i might accompany a greek or syrian merchant to damer, and from thence make my escape, but unfortunately at that time i had no money and little experience. i did not actually give way to despair, but i could find no one ready to give me the assistance i required; they all feared the khalifa's vengeance in case of discovery. [illustration: the arab guides who effect the escape of father ohrwalder and the sisters.] i made inquiries of boatmen, with a view to going to berber on a supposed trading journey, but none of them trusted me; and, indeed, i was afterwards thankful that they had not spoken of my design. however, in spite of failure, i did not give up hope; and during the long days, and often sleepless nights, i turned various plans over and over in my mind. on one occasion gustav klootz and i decided to make an attempt to reach galabat, and escape thence into abyssinia, but at the last moment the plan seemed impracticable. klootz, however, set off, and without any money he begged his way from place to place; at length, utterly exhausted, he reached galabat, only to die a few days afterwards. i spent about eight months with the greek, and then thought it was not fair to trespass further on his hospitality. besides, it had occurred to me that in case a favourable opportunity for escape arrived, he would most certainly have been accused of complicity, and might have suffered on my account; i therefore built a small straw hut for myself, and lived with a mission brother who had a small shop in the market. for almost five months an arab held out hopes of assisting me to escape, but i eventually ascertained that he never really meant to help me. for nearly two years i had suffered from incessant diarrhoea, which had greatly wasted my strength. meanwhile i had managed to send one of the mission brothers to berber, nominally to gain a living by repairing watches, but actually to find out whether flight from there was possible. it took him twenty-six days in a boat to reach berber, and after staying there for a time he succeeded in escaping to sawakin, whence he despatched a man with money and goods who was to aid in my escape; but the man never came, and must have stolen all that had been given to him. the mission brother's escape reached the khalifa's ears, and at the same time certain greeks petitioned him that their bakery might not be pulled down when the market was being repaired. the khalifa sent for the mukuddum to inquire about the matter, and casually asked about the other greeks, and where they were? the mukuddum replied that some were ill, others were travelling. this greatly annoyed the khalifa, who ordered all who were in omdurman to be brought before him the following day. finding several absentees, his eyes seemed to be opened to the danger; he severely blamed the mukuddum for allowing the lay-brother to escape; said that he should have given immediate information, and then turning on us he threatened to cast us into the river, or cut off our hands. his actual words were, "what prevents me now from throwing you into the river, and making you food for fishes?" he spoke against us in a most vehement manner for about half an hour, and ended by saying that we should not in future be permitted to move one step south of omdurman fort, or north of khor shambat. any europeans known to be beyond the limits of his capital, he ordered to be forcibly brought back, alive or dead. this sudden change of front obliged us to put aside for the time all idea of escape. a sherif of mecca, who had come to greet the mahdi and who had become thoroughly convinced of the falseness of his claims, expressed a desire to be allowed to return; his request was not granted, so he decided to make his escape; he bought a donkey and gaily set out on his journey. on reaching kererri, some four hours' distance, he was stopped and asked where he was going; he replied that he was come to pay a visit to sheikh el tayeb's tomb at kererri; but his story was not credited. he was brought back to the khalifa, who handed him over to the saier, where he died a few days afterwards. this event made abdullah exert a still stricter surveillance over the "whites," and now escape became more difficult than ever. moreover, wad en nejumi's expedition to egypt closed the road to pilgrims, and during that period flight would have been a pure impossibility. in the meantime i had to do something to gain a livelihood. lupton advised me to try soap-boiling; so i went into partnership with him, changed my house, and now took up my abode just beyond the greek and syrian quarter. i was always thinking of escape, and in consequence kept a great deal to myself, seldom paid visits, and was seldom called upon. two of the mission sisters were living near me; they earned a precarious living by needlework; but this hardly brought in enough money to purchase the bare necessities of life, for several of the women who had survived the khartum massacre were employed at similar work, and the competition was considerable. poor lupton died very suddenly, so our soap-boiling plan had to be abandoned, and i had to turn my thoughts to something else. it occurred to me to make hooks out of telegraph wire, which the sisters sewed on to purses, takias, &c., and this being a novelty was for a time a fairly lucrative business: but it was long and tedious work. gradually the novelty wore off, and the demand grew less; provisions were expensive, and a famine close at hand. all idea of mutual support had come to an end, for the greeks, syrians, and jews had been prohibited from leaving the town, and nothing was to be made out of trade in omdurman itself. thus my condition went from bad to worse, the famine was now raging, and in desperation i had to do something to gain enough to keep body and soul together. it was the fashion for the women in omdurman to wear long garments trimmed with various sorts of ribbons, and it occurred to me to learn how to make these ribbons; for this purpose i acquired a small and simple loom. the few men in the market, who had the monopoly of this trade, regarded my acquisition with great jealousy, and would not teach it to any one under a less payment than forty or fifty dollars, and this sum i was quite unable to raise; however, necessity knows no law, and hunger sharpens the inventive faculties. i carefully unravelled a piece of ribbon and studied the way it was made with the greatest attention. i had a dim and hazy recollection of european looms, and, after many vain attempts, i at length succeeded in making one. the work is very trying, and at first i thought my back would break from the exertion; it was only with the greatest difficulty that i managed, after working all day, to turn out four yards, which i sold for four piastres, out of which i had to purchase the thread. however, after continuous practice, i succeeded, at the end of a month, in turning out sixteen yards a day. but loom work should be learnt when one is young, and to begin it at my age was a terrible strain on my back; still, it brought in sufficient money to keep us alive. for seven months we lived on dhurra bread and a few boiled vegetables, without oil, butter, or meat. hard work and insufficient food were telling on our strength: however, we were far better off than hundreds of others, who were willing to work, but, finding nothing to do, were obliged to starve. during all this time i never once abandoned hope of escape, and again succeeded in getting some one to take a message from me to cairo seeking advice; but the undertaking was so beset with difficulties that it seemed next to impossible. my companions in adversity watched me closely--they often volunteered to attempt an escape with the sisters; but as i was responsible for them to the khalifa, this could not be done, and the idea of myself and the two sisters ever escaping alone seemed too absurd to be thought of. it seemed most improbable that the government would again take possession of the sudan; though i confess that a ray of hope was kindled when saleh bey of korosko suddenly arrived at abu hamed with his ababdehs and killed the notorious suleiman wad naaman, the murderer of colonel stewart and his companions. the news of this affair caused the greatest excitement in omdurman, and we really believed that the time for our release was approaching; but saleh bey disappeared as quickly as he came. the capture of tokar, in february , also raised our hopes; but we were again doomed to disappointment. in a young ababdeh arab had come to omdurman and had asked me to give him a letter to my friends in cairo. i did not trust him, for i had written several letters which were entirely without result. i had learnt by experience that the arabs were untrustworthy, and that the letters never reached those for whom they were intended. it also occurred to me that the man might be a spy, so i sent him away with the answer "neshauer" (_i.e._ "i shall think about it"), a word very often used by the sudanese when they wish to gain time to consider a matter. meanwhile i made full inquiries about the man, and heard nothing but good of him. soon afterwards he returned and asked me to give him a few lines of greeting to my friends. i was told that the man expected to get some reward if he succeeded in bringing letters to the government from the prisoners, which might give them some information on the situation in the sudan. when i was thoroughly convinced as to his trustworthiness, we then had a consultation, of which the upshot was that i would, with his assistance, attempt to escape, provided he could obtain the necessary support from cairo; i therefore gave him a letter to our reverend vicar apostolic, franz sogaro, and commissioned him to negotiate verbally with him. the man's plan was to return when the nile was high--that is to say, almost a year later--escape in a boat or on a raft, which the swift current would carry to berber in about three days, where camels would be in readiness to take us across the desert to korosko. i urged him to keep these plans absolutely secret, for their disclosure would bring most certain punishment on our heads, and i further urged him to provide arms for the journey. ahmed hassan--for that was the man's name--went off, and, to tell the truth, i had little hope that he would do anything more than others had done before him. besides, who could say what changes might not take place in a year in omdurman, which might entirely frustrate our plans? the sword of damocles was for ever hanging over our heads. then might not death intervene any day? both the sisters and myself were thoroughly debilitated by constant work and hardship, and it was always possible that a slight fever might extinguish the spark of life which was then burning but dimly. a few days after ahmed's departure the whole matter went quite out of our heads, and before long i was again negotiating with another arab to assist us to escape, for i did not wish to leave a stone unturned. if it had been a question of my flight alone, there would not have been so much difficulty. as a man i could have stained my naturally brown complexion, dressed in rags, and begged my way along the banks of the blue nile to abyssinia; but i could not leave the poor sisters behind, and therefore resolved to wait patiently until a deliverer should come. several of the merchants who had been to egypt told me that archbishop sogaro had often sent us money _viâ_ korosko, halfa, and sawakin; but the dishonest arabs had always appropriated it for themselves. in fact, ever since our good archbishop had never ceased in his efforts to assist us and to make our captivity more bearable. he left no stone unturned, and moved moslems, christians, the government, and indeed his holiness the pope, on our behalf, and one of the missionaries was maintained on the egyptian frontier with the special object of endeavouring to procure our release; they took it in turns to relieve each other, and were fathers dominicus vicentini, yohann dichtl, xavier geyer, alois bonomi, leon henriot, and alois specke, the last of whom died at assuan. we had many great difficulties, but perhaps the greatest was the continual bad faith of the arabs. the transport of letters endangered the lives not only of the bearers, but of the receivers as well, and any letter addressed to a european would, if discovered, undoubtedly end either in the intended recipient's death or imprisonment for life. but archbishop sogaro worked on with indefatigable earnestness. early in he sent one of our coptic mission teachers, named hanna arraga, with money and goods to the frontier, whence, if possible, he was to proceed to omdurman and assist us. it was thought the plan might succeed, for at that time zogal was emir of dongola, and he was desirous of opening trade with halfa. hanna therefore sent an arab on to find out how matters stood, while he himself remained on the frontier; but the arab never returned. it so happened that just at this time zogal and the two baggara emirs sent to watch him had a violent dispute, which resulted in all of them being recalled to omdurman. the khalifa decided in favour of the baggaras, zogal was thrown into chains, and abdullah's nephew, yunis, was appointed emir of dongola; the latter held very different views with regard to intercourse with egypt, and that is why the arab never returned to halfa. about fifteen days, however, before i effected my escape, the arab came to omdurman and told me about the matter. his own master and son had been implicated in the dongola dispute and had been thrown into chains; that was his reason for not returning, and after that i never saw him again.[t] meanwhile, ahmed hassan, whom i had sent to cairo with the letter, duly delivered it to archbishop sogaro, who made a written agreement with him for our release; he also instructed hanna to proceed from halfa to korosko, and there hand over to ahmed hassan the goods valued at £ . through archbishop sogaro's intermediary, ahmed hassan was given every support by the egyptian military authorities, who presented him with £ and gave him a free passage to korosko. on the th of september, , he left that place for omdurman with the goods. at omdurman the winter had come and gone, the nile had risen to its full height and had subsided, but there was no sign of ahmed. i was not surprised, for i had long been accustomed to disappointments of this sort. i merely remarked to myself that the number of persons who had deceived us had been increased by one, and that if a deliverer did not soon come from egypt, there was another deliverer--death--whose approach was certain. the heavy work was sapping our waning strength, i began to spit blood, felt severe pains in my chest, and was little else than skin and bone. the poor sisters were still nearer the grave. our moral and physical sufferings during these ten long years of captivity had told on us terribly; death was what we most longed for and for which we patiently waited. the sad prospect of never regaining our liberty, of living a life of slavery, debarred from all the advantages and progress of the world, never again to worship in our grand churches and enjoy the comforts of our holy religion; but to live and die amongst the fiery rocks and sand of omdurman, where the burning sun turned dead bodies into mummies--to die and be buried in slavery--the prospect of living was indeed unattractive, and what wonder we should long for death to free us from such misery! after all these sufferings it was indeed hard to see our will-o'-the-wisp-like hope, which we had pursued so often, dissolve into nothing, and to find ourselves once more the victims of a fraud and deception. how fortunate we thought those who had been killed in battle, or had died of starvation or disease! we even envied the lot of those who had been massacred in khartum. after all, the anguish of death had been but momentary, and now all suffering and pain was over, while we seemed to have passed through a hundred deaths, we had been in his clutches over and over again; hunger, thirst, and disease had all, at one time or another, almost claimed us as their victims. we had witnessed the destruction of cities, the annihilation of armies, the slaughter of thousands, and the ruthless massacre and bloodshed of innocent people; man's dignity trodden under foot, and human life valued far below that of a sheep or a goat. and after all this we must live and die forgotten and unknown, our lasting resting-place a strange land, and our bodies in all likelihood food for hyenas. thus we longed for death to remove us from these scenes of perpetual cruelty and oppression. our nerves had become so strained that the slightest knock at the door would make us start; the sound of the great onbeïa made us positively tremble. almost half the total number of europeans, greeks, syrians, and jews were dead, and all we hoped for was that we should soon follow them. the death of one of our sisters only increased in me the desire to die as well. on the th of october, , sister concetta corsi, who was in a very weak state of health, was suddenly carried off by typhus. according to the sudan custom, we wound her body in a cloth, tied it up in a mat (for there were no coffins to be had), and carried her, almost immediately after death, to a spot some six miles north of the town--the direction in which her eyes in lifetime had been so often turned. all the greeks and syrians followed, and there in the stillness of the desert we laid her in the warm sand, protecting her body from the ravenous hyenas by a few thorns. a short prayer was offered up for her and for the souls of those who had gone before; then we turned sadly back, hoping that before long we too might be lying beside her. but i felt that my life was in god's hands, and comforted myself with the belief that god was dealing with me as he thought best, and that i must submit to his divine will. my hut was gloomy in the extreme; for several days i did not speak to any one, and when night came i threw myself down on my angarib, but sleep would not come to me; then i would gaze up into the great vault of heaven and think that this same sky was over my fatherland, from which i was an exile, surrounded by suffering and sickness. on the night of the th of october, , ahmed hassan quite unexpectedly made his appearance. i took him to my hut, and after the usual arabic greetings, he said to me, "here i am, are you coming?" for a moment i was speechless, i quite understood what he meant; but a thousand thoughts flashed through my mind, my heart was beating violently, the dangers to which my frail companions in adversity would be subjected loomed before me, and for a few moments i could make no reply; then i collected my wandering thoughts and said: "if i did not intend to go with you i would not have sent you." then i began asking him all sorts of questions about cairo, and he informed me briefly that he had seen archbishop sogaro and had made an arrangement with him regarding our release; that he had given up the plan of descending to berber by boat, and that he had received £ to purchase camels. he further told me that he had not brought any letter with him. he asked about the sisters, and when i told him that one had died almost a month ago, he almost wept, and striking his forehead with his hand, said, "oh, that i had come a month earlier!" but i told him that i would take another sister in her place. we then set to talking earnestly about our plans; i told him to purchase at least five good camels and to see that he had sufficient arms. in anticipation of flight, i had a long time ago secured and carefully concealed a hundred remington cartridges. when ahmed left the hut i began to doubt if he was really sincere; it seemed almost incredible that they should have sent him from cairo without a line or even a signature on such an important undertaking. the next day ahmed reappeared, bringing with him two arabs whom he had engaged in the cause, one at korosko and the other at berber. ahmed seemed a little afraid that we would not dare to undertake the flight; he told me that he had brought a letter from archbishop sogaro, but had left it at berber. the main difficulty for the arabs would be leaving the house without being observed, but i reassured them on that point. it was almost full moon at that time, so it was decided to delay our departure until it should be on the decline, and we should thus be able to make our way out under cover of obscurity. i begged ahmed not to come to us any more, to avoid exciting suspicion. i now began to make preparations. my first object was to get one of the sisters, who was at that time living in a greek's house, to come to my house. this was not an easy matter, for i dared not mention one word about our intentions to a soul, or our plans would undoubtedly have been frustrated. i therefore feigned illness, and said i could no longer carry on this hard work alone, so the sister was allowed to come, and, quite unwittingly, the greek gladly lent me her services. she had now been with me some twenty days, so i felt that the greek could not be held responsible for her disappearance, which occurred a few days later. ahmed gave me archbishop sogaro's letter, which he had procured from berber, and with intense excitement i read the few lines, in which he wished me all success in the undertaking. this letter encouraged me greatly, and i had now no doubt of ahmed's sincerity. we counted the days and hours preceding our departure, and i could not bear to think of the trials the sisters would have to undergo during the journey. i had also a little black girl, whom it would have been impossible for me to have left behind, as our departure would undoubtedly have been betrayed. she was named adila, and had been born in the khartum mission house. after the fall of khartum, she and her mother had been sold as slaves and sent to gedaref. amongst abu anga's troops was a certain panerazio yusef, a very bright and intelligent young soldier, who subsequently rose to the rank of an emir; he had been told about adila, bought her for five dollars, and took her with him when he accompanied the emir zaki to omdurman. on his arrival he presented her to me as a remembrance of former kindness; he also gave me a quantity of coffee, for which i was truly grateful. the day of our intended departure was approaching, and we looked forward to it with almost breathless impatience. we had lost all appetite for food; fear, mental anguish, and the idea that we should be free, kept us in a perfect fever of excitement. i could not help thinking of my companions in adversity whom i should be obliged to leave behind, and who might, i thought, perhaps suffer after our departure. these had been constantly with us for the last ten years, sharing our life of pain and wretchedness, and now i could not but feel pained at the thought of separation. but all these feelings had to be put aside, and we had to concentrate all our thoughts on the present. i longed to be off, if only to be free from this feverish anxiety which was rending our very souls. then ahmed came just the day before we were to have started, and said that the arabs with whom he had come from korosko had not yet returned, and that we must await their departure before setting out. i now began to think that our plans had been frustrated. several egyptians, including some women, had attempted to fly to berber, whence they intended making their way back to egypt, but had been intercepted, brought back and thrown into chains. it also happened that some greeks who had been living at gedaref, and had had their goods stolen, were also brought to omdurman and put in prison, because it was thought that they had intended to escape to the italians. all this alarmed me, and i thought it probable the khalifa would issue more stringent orders against europeans. ahmed told me that he had had considerable difficulty in purchasing the camels; he did not dare buy them in the market, as that would have aroused suspicion; he had also great difficulty in feeding them, for it would have certainly excited comment if he had collected them all in one place. he had, however, managed very well. when he saw a good-looking camel, towards evening he would follow it until he reached the owner's house, then early the next morning he would return and bargain for it; in this way he had acquired three good camels at from to dollars a piece, which he distributed amongst his various friends, and fed them up well. meanwhile he used occasionally to come and see us, and bid us keep up a good hope in spite of our enforced delay. on the th of november occurred the disturbance between the khalifas which i have already narrated, and this seemed a most favourable moment to escape; but ahmed did not come, and i was wildly impatient, for i could not even find out where he lived without exciting suspicion. in all this confusion we were lost sight of, and i avoided going to see anyone lest i should become involved in anything that was going on. i had no further preparations to make, for ahmed had promised to provide everything. at last, on friday the th, he came to my hut, and it was decided we should leave on monday evening. when i reproached him for not coming during the first day or two of the disturbances, he said that he too had thought of it, but that one of his friends had been locked up for being engaged in a quarrel, and he was obliged to wait until he was released. ahmed also told me a most important piece of news. there were no riding camels in the beit el mal. all had been despatched to the provinces on business connected with quelling the disturbances. it would not, therefore, be possible to pursue us at once. these disturbances had made all the other captives think that it was a favourable opportunity to fly, but, with one exception, none of them knew that my preparations were all made and that the next day i should be gone. footnotes: [t] the arab undoubtedly meant well. for he was at the same time entrusted by me with a letter to give to another european prisoner, and, as i write, a reply to this letter, which was delivered to him only two months ago in omdurman, has just reached cairo.--f. r. w. chapter xxv. on camels across the great nubian desert. father ohrwalder and sisters venturini and chincarini escape--the ride for life--the rencontre with the dervish guard near abu hamed--alarm of the party--the journey across the great nubian desert--five hundred miles on camel-back in seven days--arrival at the egyptian outpost at murat--safe at last--arrival in cairo. on sunday evening i went to see a friend and returned at nine o'clock; this happened to be the last visit i was to make in omdurman. just as i stepped into my yard, there i saw ahmed standing before me. in a few hasty words he told me to get ready as soon as possible; his friends had made a mistake and had come a day earlier with the camels. the sisters and adila were all ready; i gave ahmed the few small things i had as well as my arms, and told him to take the sisters to the appointed place, which was only about thirty yards from the hut, whilst i went off and informed the only person who was in the secret, of our sudden decision to leave a day earlier. all fear had now gone, and, almost beside myself with excitement, i hastened to my friend's house and knocked at the door. "who's there?" he asked. and when he knew who it was he was greatly surprised, and asked why i came so late. as some one else was standing near, i said that i had been seized with a violent pain, and had come to beg a few drops of laudanum, and then i approached him, pressed his hand, and whispered in his ear that we were on the point of starting. the poor man received such a start, that had he not caught hold of something, he would have fallen; but i roused him by asking him loudly to get me the laudanum at once; so he went off to his room, and there, with a trembling hand, he put a few drops on a piece of sugar. i took it back to the house, which i found the sister had just left. then wrapping myself in a black mantle, i locked the door, and took the key with me. i saw something dark in the distance, which i knew must be the camels, and thither i picked my way. in a few moments i had reached the spot, and a man whom i did not know helped me on to my camel; but there was no time to ask questions. ahmed put the sisters on the camels, on which the two other arabs rode, whilst i took adila behind me on my camel. not thirty yards from where we were was a well, around which a number of female slaves were gathered; but the little noise we made was drowned by their laughter. the moment of mounting was perhaps the most dangerous time, for the camels were restive, and longing to be off. it was with the greatest difficulty the arabs managed to keep their mouths closed, and no sooner were we on their backs than we glided swiftly away into the darkness. now and then we saw fires, at which the people were cooking their food, or sitting around gossiping; fortunately it was a cold night, so most of the people were in their huts. we passed the spot where we had laid the poor sister who had recently died; it was sad to think that she was not with us now. we kept steadily moving forward, not a word had passed our lips; the camels had been well fed up on dhurra, and went so quickly that we could scarcely hold them in. i tried to peer through the darkness, while my ear was ready to catch the slightest sound of possible pursuers. soon we had left omdurman far behind, and in the soft sand-bed of khor shambat we dismounted to have our saddles re-arranged; then we mounted again, and pursued our journey at a rapid pace northwards along the river bank. we were in all seven persons and four camels: the guide ahmed hassan, his two friends hamed and awad; sister catterina chincarini and sister elizabetta venturini; myself and adila. a cold north wind was blowing, which our rapid advance made quite cutting. i followed the arab custom, and bound a large turban round my head, leaving only the eyes exposed. we passed several villages, but the barking of the dogs always gave us warning, and so we avoided them. i had not heard a dog bark for years, and the sound was quite pleasing to me. we met some gellabas riding on donkeys, on their way to omdurman, but in the darkness they could not see who we were, and we passed them rapidly; only ahmed remained behind, to greet them and exchange news. now the narrow track led through thick bushes, which we could not rightly see; our clothes, hands, and feet got torn and scratched by the thorns; but we never checked the pace, and continued our course steadily northwards. "time is money," they say, but in our case time was life; we crossed dry beds of streams, over which the animals would sometimes stumble and fall, the riders with them; but there was no time to think of pains and bruises; to pick oneself up, catch and mount the camel, which might easily have been lost in the desert, was all one had time to think about. none of us had watches, but during the many sleepless nights i had passed, i had become used to observing the stars, and could tell the time almost to within five minutes. just at dawn we neared the village of wad bishara, and pushed on quicker so as to pass it before daybreak. this village is generally considered two days north of omdurman. we then left the ordinary track, and turned towards the desert, as we dared not go along the river bank during the daytime. at sunrise we could just see the thin strip of green which marked the course of the stream; still we did not alight, but pushed on and on, up and down hills, across long stretches of sandy plain. our eyes became so red and swollen we could scarcely see, and they pained us considerably. at length, after some hours, we drew up, dismounted ate a little biscuit, and drank some water, readjusted our saddles, then up and away again. my mind travelled back to omdurman. had our flight been discovered at once? what would happen to those left behind? how astonished they would be to find we had gone! but this train of thought was suddenly interrupted; one of the sisters had fallen off her camel, and was lying insensible on the ground; we picked her up, splashed her with water, and after a time brought her to; we then put her on to the camel again, and tied her firmly to the saddle; there was nothing else to be done--it was a question of life and death. so we rode continuously forward, in the desert by day and along the river bank by night. i had asked ahmed about the stranger who had helped me to mount my camel in omdurman, and he told me that the animals had become so restive by good feeding that it was impossible for one man to hold them whilst the other two came to the hut to fetch us; he had therefore taken two friends into his confidence, and made them swear on the kuran that they would not betray us. just after sunset they had ridden the camels quite openly through the market-place, with their arms slung across the saddles, so that people should think they were post-camels, and no suspicion would be created. ahmed told me more too about the difficulties he had had in stabling the camels prior to our flight; two of them had been tethered in a poor woman's yard, and the two others he had placed in charge of one of his friends; but these caretakers had guessed that something was about to happen, and had urged ahmed to depart as soon as possible, for they began to think they might become involved in the matter. ahmed had paid them most liberally for their services; he had also had recourse to magic, summoned the spirits, and consulted a fiki, who prophesied the journey would be "as white as milk," that is to say, that no mishap would occur, for which statement ahmed had given him a considerable bakshish. we continued our journey always along the left bank of the nile, there was no time to stop for sleep. occasionally we came across arab shepherds in the desert tending their herds of goats. they gazed wonderingly at us, and asked questions of ahmed, who purposely always remained a short way behind. ahmed drew a gloomy picture of the recent rising in omdurman, describing how the two khalifas had openly fought with each other, how nothing was heard night and day but the roar of cannon and the rattle of musketry, while the slaughter had been terrible beyond words. he represented that we were fugitives who had left the ordinary roads, fearing that the disturbed state of the country might make them unsafe, for bands of brigands were known to be roaming about. these simple people, thoroughly detesting mahdiism, believed every word ahmed told them, thought we were wise to fly, and gave him as much milk as he wanted, a fact which he also regarded as a good omen. although ahmed and his friends knew the usual roads well, they had never been on exactly the track we had been forced to take to avoid the inhabited places. thus it happened that we approached the river sooner than we expected; in fact, almost before we knew it, we found ourselves amongst houses in the village of makani, which was so concealed by trees that we had not seen it. we then met a party of gellabas, and at ahmed's advice at once slowed our pace so as not to provoke mistrust. these gellabas looked at us somewhat suspiciously, and tried in vain to find out the object of our journey. probably they remembered us afterwards when our flight became known. at length, after some difficulty, we emerged from the village and again turned into the desert; but when i blamed ahmed for misguiding us, he merely answered cheerfully, "allah marakna!" ("god has delivered us!") when we had got some distance from the river, we dismounted and had a slight meal of dates and water. our limbs were so stiff we could not stand up straight, and our clothes were sticking to the wounds we had received when riding through the bush. how delightful it was to be on the ground again and stretch our cramped legs, and how pleasant would a short sleep have been! but no sooner had the camels swallowed a little dhurra than we were up and off again. we still went in a northerly direction, and as our scratches warmed again they pained us considerably; but the feeling that we were not pursued, and the growing hope that we should really escape, encouraged us to overcome every difficulty. we watered at gubat on the nile, where the english had encamped in , and then we rode cautiously, well outside the great village of metemmeh. the barking and howling of the dogs made the camels quicken their pace, and soon we were out of sight of the jaalin capital. we then began to discuss how we were to cross the nile. ahmed had a friend living in a village just south of berber, and it occurred to him that we might cross there. we trotted quietly on towards this village, when a man suddenly sprang out in front of us and cried, "enta min?" ("who are you?") but we soon found out that the man was afraid, and had taken us for robbers. his sudden appearance had given us a great start, and we at once thought that our pursuers had caught us up, and that we were about to be recaptured. ahmed, however, approached the man, and as we rode on, he turned, spoke to him, and allayed his fears. when we approached the village, we dismounted and hid behind some thick bushes, whilst ahmed went in search of his friend who was to ferry us across. in about half an hour he returned, saying that it was impossible, as the boat was on the other side. besides, he had heard that two boats had just passed down on their way to berber, and that all disturbances in omdurman were at an end. however, they had heard nothing about our flight. we therefore mounted again, and continued marching north the whole of that night and the following day. on this, the third day of our journey, we came in sight of berber, and towards evening descended to the river almost exactly opposite the town, filled our waterskins, and then made for the desert again. we did not dare keep near the river here, as numbers of baggara were living in the neighbourhood. at about midnight we alighted, as ahmed did not know the road. we fed the camels, and indulged in our usual meal of biscuits, dates, and water. ahmed had also succeeded in procuring from his friend some tobacco and small earthenware pipes; so we smoked with impunity, and began to feel that our escape was now almost assured. but we had still before us the crossing of the river, which our arab friends in omdurman had warned us would be one of the most critical and dangerous parts of our plan. we were in the saddle again at dawn, and continued our journey over a stony plateau which our guides did not recognize. then all day we marched through narrow valleys, full of large stones washed down by the torrents. at length towards evening we sighted the river again, and descended towards it through a narrow gorge, where we had to dismount, as the camels could scarcely make their way across the great boulders which blocked the path. once on the plain, our guides recognised the road, and we found ourselves near the village of benga, where we hoped to be able to secure boats to take us across. we advanced now very cautiously, looking round in every direction; and i espied three camelmen setting off evidently in the direction of abu hamed. i at once called ahmed's attention to this; and although they were some way off, they could have seen us, so ahmed advised us to alight at once, which we did, and concealed ourselves in a khor amongst some bushes. ahmed and his companions were, i could see, not a little alarmed by the appearance of the camelmen, and began to speak to each other in their own dialect; but i guessed by the expressions on their faces what they thought--viz. that our flight had been discovered, news had been sent to berber, and now the camelmen were on their way to warn the emir of abu hamed to intercept us. i endeavoured to prove to them that it was quite impossible for the news to have reached berber yet, even if our flight had been reported to the khalifa the morning after we had left. it was most unlikely that the pursuit would have been begun before the evening, and we had thus got a good twenty-four hours' start. we were then just four hours north of berber, and had been three and a half days out from omdurman. our pursuers therefore, even if they had ridden as rapidly and as persistently as we had, could not possibly have reached berber yet. but my calculations by no means convinced our guides; and after a long consultation, ahmed and awad went towards the river about four miles distant, while hamed stayed behind to look after the camels. now was the time to take a few hours' sleep before night came on. during the three and a half days we had been on the journey we had had only four hours' sleep. we were quite worn out; our simple meals of biscuit and water did not give us much nourishment, our limbs were so stiff that we could scarcely move, and our wounds proved most irritating. under such circumstances it can well be understood how welcome sleep would have been; but the appearance of these three camels, the alarm of the guides, and our anxiety about crossing the river, drove away all idea of rest, and all we could do was to await with what patience we knew the return of the two arabs. at length, just as the sun was setting, ahmed and awad returned, much rejoiced. they had made inquiries about the three camelmen, and had found out that they had nothing to do with us, and that nothing was known yet of our flight. they had arranged with a boatman to ferry us across, under the pretext that they were conducting a small party of slaves whom they were going to hand over to the emir of abu hamed. this most satisfactory news quite dissipated our fatigue, and we ate our wretched biscuit and dates with an excellent appetite. as soon as it was dark we moved towards the river, and dismounted close to the water's edge. as yet there was no sign of the boatman, but we saw two boys rowing towards us. meanwhile ahmed had gone to a house close by to get some dhurra. then the boatman came and announced that he could not take us across that night, but we must wait till the morning. this would never have done; not only should we have lost a whole night, but we should undoubtedly have been recognised in daylight. however, it was no use talking, and the man went off to his hut; but we did not get discouraged, for if the worst came to the worst, we could row ourselves across. by this time the two boys had reached the bank, and they now came forward and offered to take us across; of course we accepted, and in an incredibly short space of time our guides had got the camels on board. it was a large boat, so we all crossed together, and on reaching the opposite bank ahmed gave the boys two dollars, with which they seemed highly pleased, kissed our hands, wished us a pleasant journey, and then returned to the west bank. we watered the animals, filled our skins, mounted, and again set our faces northwards. it was now past midnight. the camels, refreshed by their rest and good feed, pushed on quickly, and during that night and the whole of the next day we rode on without any interruption or mishap. not a soul was to be seen in this lonely desert, but we often came across herds of antelopes, rabbits, and a few hyenas; the antelopes would stand about twenty paces off, prick up their ears, and look inquisitively at the strange caravan. it was quite cool when we left omdurman, but now the weather had quite changed, and we felt it oppressively hot; we saw mirages constantly, and were often deceived by them. our camels and ourselves now began to suffer. i was much struck by the change in the appearance of these animals; the high, fat hump and thick neck they had in omdurman had both grown to half the size. at first we had the greatest difficulty in holding them in; now they were so tired that we had to keep flogging them all the time; their feet had got so worn that treading on a stone made them jump sideways, and to ease them we four men alternately dismounted and led them for some distance. our track lay across a broad plain, dotted about with small shrubs, and as we passed one of these, ahmed noticed a snake, scared by our approach, trying to escape; he at once killed the reptile with a blow of his sword, then stretched out its body and jumped over it three times in a most excited way. thereupon the guides congratulated each other, saying there was now nothing more to fear, and that we had conquered our enemies. this exhibition of courage on the part of the guides pleased me greatly. once more we mounted and made our way towards abu hamed, where we intended to take water for the last time before entering the great nubian desert. the next night another snake episode occurred, but it ended rather differently. we were going across a stony place, when the leading camel suddenly swerved to one side, and we heard a hissing sound, which we knew must be a snake, but it was too dark to attempt to catch it. this greatly alarmed the arabs, who looked upon it as an evil omen, and curiously enough, when close to abu hamed, an event did occur which quite confirmed their superstitions. the next day, at about nine o'clock in the morning, we sighted the mountain which was our landmark indicating the place at which we intended to water. we anticipated reaching it in three hours, and there we intended to rest whilst the arabs took the camels down to water; but somehow we went too far to the east, did not discover our mistake for some time, and it was midnight instead of midday when we reached the hill. this hill is shaped rather like two skittles, between which the road runs, and the wind, blowing through this narrow funnel, almost carried us off our camels. ahmed warned us to keep perfect silence as we scrambled down the rocky slope, and reached the river at last; here the mighty stream flows rapidly and silently at the foot of a great rock cliff, the stillness being occasionally broken by the splash of the many fish which delight to disport themselves in these cool depths. this watering-place is known as meshra dehesh, and is about six miles south of abu hamed. a few dôm palms and shrubs have gained a slender footing on the steep bank, and the reflection of the bright stars in the silent river could not but make one feel impressed with the grand solitude of the place. i bent down, scooped up the water in my hands, and refreshed my parched throat; then we took the saddles off the camels, filled our water-skins, and ate some biscuits; i wanted to bathe my face and eyes, which ached with the burning of the sun and sand, but ahmed gave the word to mount. we were too stiff and weak to be able to stand upright, and as for the poor sisters, ahmed had to lift them bodily off the ground and put them on their camels; they were far too exhausted to speak; we led the camels out of the stony gorge, intending to mount when we reached the level. it was long past midnight, and we were congratulating ourselves on having passed the last critical point, hoping that by dawn we should have left the river, which here bends to the west, far behind us. [illustration: "we had scarcely gone twenty paces from the river, when suddenly we heard the sound of a camel."] we had scarcely gone twenty paces from the river, when suddenly we heard the sound of a camel. we were almost ready to drop with fright, but ahmed and the guides went towards the spot from whence the sound had come, and there they saw a camelman mounted, armed with a remington, and peering at us from behind a dôm palm, but it was too dark for him to have recognized our white faces. ahmed at once approached him, seized his rifle with his left hand, and extended his right to greet him, asking him at the same time to alight. the man, alarmed probably at ahmed's energetic bearing, at once dismounted and joined the guides. at first we thought orders must have come from omdurman to intercept us, but fortunately it was not so; the guard (for such he proved to be) said he had been sent from berber to see that egyptian merchants did not export slaves from the sudan to egypt. he related how, the day previous, a merchant with five slaves had been captured, but had been set free again on depositing the value of the slaves. the guard then asked ahmed if he had brought any slaves, to which he replied in the affirmative. the guard now insisted that ahmed should go to abu hamed to see the emir there, and no amount of argument would convince him that it was unnecessary to do so. hamed now came and told me about the occurrence, but, being somewhat confused, he happened to say we were lost. these words reached the ears of one of the sisters, and so startled her that she fell off her camel, and might have been very seriously injured had we not caught her. i gave hamed my long knife, and told him to do what he could to win the man over with money, but that if he found this was useless, "well! we were four men to one." hamed quite understood what i meant, and then returned to the others. the conversation still continued for a long time. at length our arabs returned; we put the sisters on the camels at once, and then mounted ourselves. our fatigue had fled; even the camels seemed to scent danger, for we set off at a quick pace and were soon out of sight. this episode served to remind us very forcibly that we were still in the khalifa's territory. strange thoughts passed through my mind in quick succession: omdurman, the khalifa, the saier, unbearable insults, then death. all these awaited us if we failed in our attempt; but then i comforted myself with the thought we should never be taken alive; we had solemnly agreed never to submit. it was in this frame of mind that we quitted meshra dehesh and rode for our lives night and day; the poor camels were reduced to skeletons, and we ourselves were nothing but skin and bone. ahmed told me that when the guard recognized him he showed himself kindly disposed, and promised not to betray us; but ahmed did not trust him, and would not, therefore, let him go until he had accepted some money; he had pressed twenty dollars into his hand. the guard accepted the money after extracting a solemn promise from ahmed and his companions that they would not attempt to revenge themselves on him or his tribe--the monasir--on their return to korosko. the guard also swore solemnly that he would not betray or pursue us, and moreover agreed to prevent the patrols going into the desert for three days, so as to keep us out of danger's way; they had then embraced and kissed each other as a sign of sincerity. in spite, however, of all these solemn oaths, i did not trust the man; the fate of poor colonel stewart and his companions came into my mind, and i remembered that they had been cruelly done to death by the cowardly and treacherous monasir; we therefore hurried forward our camels with all possible speed, leaving abu hamed far away on our left. the day broke as usual, and soon the sun was risen and burning more fiercely than ever, but that did not trouble us. we were far too much absorbed in the momentous event which had just occurred. our track ran through a perfectly flat plain, in which not a shrub or blade of grass was to be seen. we passed the tracks of the captured slave-dealer and the patrols, and that evening entered on the caravan road leading from abu hamed to korosko. the track ran through great bare hills and solitary valleys; the wind had driven the sand almost to the tops of the hills, and had filled up all the crevices with sand-drifts. once within the hills, our courage returned, for we knew we would be able to defend ourselves; so we dismounted and ate our last mouthful of biscuit, and now all we had was our water, which, by the way, we jokingly remarked was somewhat dear, as it had cost us twenty dollars. after a short rest we set off again, but both we and our camels were utterly exhausted; my right arm ached from continually whipping up the poor beast. our arab companions lightened the way with hundreds of interesting anecdotes of their own deserts. they related how, when berber fell, an arab and six egyptian women had fled; but the man had brought only a camel or two and very little water, so four of them had died of thirst. they pointed out the spot which rundle bey had reached when he reconnoitred abu hamed in . the road was plainly marked out by the bones of camels and donkeys, and, prior to the appearance of the mahdi, had been a much-used trade route. mohammed ali pasha had ridden along this road under the guidance of hussein pasha khalifa. mohammed ali had constantly expressed a desire to halt, but his guide would not allow him to dismount, except at certain places, saying, "i am commander here;" and to this mohammed ali had willingly consented, for he well knew that a refusal to do as he was told by the sheikh of the desert, in that awful wilderness, might have been followed by very serious results. our approach to a haven of safety gave us courage to undergo most terrible fatigue. by far our worst enemy was sleep; it is quite impossible for me to describe the fearful attacks this tyrannical foe made upon us. we tried every means in our power to keep awake; we shouted and talked loudly to each other; we tried to startle ourselves by giving a sudden jerk; we pinched ourselves till the blood ran down, but our eyelids weighed down like balls of lead, and it required a fearful effort to keep them open. "ma tenamu" ("don't sleep"), ahmed kept repeating, "or you will fall off and break your leg." but it was all no good; the conversation would flag, and silence follow. the camels seemed to know their riders were asleep, and instinctively fell into slower pace; the head kept nodding, until it sunk upon the chest; with a sudden start, the equilibrium which had been almost lost would be recovered, and then sleep vanished. at times we would shout out to one another words of encouragement, then we would whip up our camels and on again, up and down, through sandy plains and rocky gorges, where the echoes seemed to repeat themselves a hundred times. our destination was murat, where we remembered gordon had given orders for a well to be dug, but it had never been done. ahmed said that we should be at murat on the morning of the th of december. he told us how the dervishes had sometimes pursued fugitives as far as this, and not long ago had killed one near here. our poor camels were now dragging their weary limbs very slowly; the whip was now quite useless, as it had not the smallest effect in increasing their pace. besides, it was pain to me to beat the good creatures that had helped us to escape. we were so utterly fatigued that it was with the greatest difficulty we succeeded in keeping on our camels at all; hunger, sleeplessness, and absolute lassitude had completely conquered us, and our wounds pained and irritated us; but the feeling that we were almost safe was as balm to both mind and body. just before sunset we turned down the khor which leads to murat; the fort covering the wells was visible on the hills, surmounted by the red flag with the white crescent and star in the centre. "ahmed," i cried, "greet the flag of freedom!" and our courageous deliverer seized his gun and fired shot after shot into the air, to announce our arrival to the egyptian garrison. the echo of these shots resounded again and again in the deep valleys, as if joining with us in our joy at deliverance from the hands of the cruel khalifa abdullah. they seemed to announce the "release of our spirits from beneath his sheepskin." this was an expression which the khalifa delighted to use when talking of his captured enemies, whose souls, he said, lay beneath his "furwa," meaning that their lives were entirely in his hands. now we were actually in safety. a prayer of the deepest gratitude went up from the very depths of our thankful hearts; it is quite impossible to find words to express what we then felt. our camels seemed to pull themselves together for a final effort, so as to present us honourably to the ababdehs, who were now coming out to meet us. the reports of our rifles had at first caused some stir in the little garrison, who feared a sudden attack, and had come out fully armed; but they soon recognized us, and answered our salute by discharging their guns in the air. these good people received us most kindly, asked us a thousand questions, and, surrounding us, brought us to the commandant's hut. here, on the th of december, the feast of the immaculate conception, we alighted from our camels, and the hopes which had kept us alive for years, were at last realized. this supreme moment, about which we had so often talked with our companions in adversity, which we had thought about, dreamed about, and pictured to ourselves, this delicious moment had come at last, and we were free! but the effects of hunger, fatigue, and the sights and scenes we had gone through during the last month, did not disappear so easily; our senses seemed dulled, and our first thought on entering the commandant's hut was to lie down on the floor and go to sleep, but, strange to say, that wonderful restorer would not come; we sat gossiping with the ababdehs, who could scarcely credit that we, especially the sisters, could have survived such a ride. we had covered the entire distance of miles between omdurman and murat in seven days, including the day we had spent wandering about in the hills before crossing the river. the staying power of our camels had astonished me; how easily one of them might have stumbled and broken its leg as we trotted hard through the dark nights, unable to see where we were going! but ahmed and his companions had used all their knowledge in securing thoroughly good animals; our excellent guides had been ever ready to help and assist us; full of energy and pluck, they had carried out their enterprise with the utmost sagacity and integrity. poor ahmed had dwindled down almost to a skeleton, and when he dismounted at murat was overcome by a fit of dizziness, from which he did not recover for an hour. meanwhile we had refreshed ourselves with a cup of coffee and some bread and milk which the commandant, mohammed saleh, had offered us, and which had revived us considerably. murat is situated in the desert, about midway between korosko and abu hamed; here three valleys unite in a sort of crater, and the hill-tops are crowned with small forts built by the ababdehs, from whence they can keep guard over the main wells, and, besides, see for an immense distance all around. this, the most advanced egyptian outpost, is garrisoned by the ababdeh arabs of saleh bey, the son of hussein pasha khalifa; these people live very simply in the midst of this great desert, drawing their provisions monthly from korosko. there are a number of wells, but the water is brackish and in summer almost undrinkable, though it is not so bad in the winter; but we had still some of our nile water, which had cost us so dearly at meshra dehesh. close to the wells is a little hut, built by gordon's orders. murat is a most desolate and lonely spot, unbearably hot in the summer, when the fierce rays of the sun are reflected from all sides of the deep crater-like valley in which it lies. the same day that we arrived one of ahmed hassan's nephews had reached murat from korosko, and gave us some of the dates and flour he was taking into the sudan; he left for abu hamed the next day, and no doubt the news of our safe arrival was soon announced in omdurman. during the th and th of december we rested. mohammed saleh supplied us with some biscuit, and on the th we again set off from murat towards korosko. our rest had greatly refreshed us, and now we could ride quietly without any fear of pursuit. one of our guides was mounted on a she-camel, which the commander had supplied, and she gave us plenty of milk. a few days before starting her little baby-camel had died, the owner had skinned it, and now whenever we required milk, we had only to stretch out the skin in front of her and let her smell it. we now rode only by day, and rested at night. heavy rain had fallen about a month before, and we found a reservoir of good water about a day out of murat. some of the murat garrison had, previous to our arrival, gone into korosko to get their monthly pay and were now returning; they happened to encamp near this natural reservoir, and seeing us took us for dervishes, rushed to their arms, took up a position behind a rock and levelled their rifles at us, but ahmed, who knew them at once, called out and they hurried up to us, begging pardon for the mistake they had made. they gave us some of their flour, dates, and tobacco, and we chatted with them till nightfall. we made no further extended halt, and on the early morning of the th of december reached korosko. in the deep valley which debouches suddenly on to the nile at this place we alighted, cleaned ourselves as best we could, and then mounted our camels for the last time, and soon came in sight first of the palm-trees and then of the nile, which we had last seen at abu hamed. we were at once surrounded by numbers of people, who bore us off to the fort, and here the commandant, lieutenant-colonel ali bey haider, greeted us most cordially, and for the first time for many years we found ourselves in comfortable rooms again, and listening to the regimental band, which we greatly enjoyed. on the evening of the th of december we got on board a steamer which took us down most comfortably to assiut. here we were greeted by mr. santoni and brother sayer, who had been directed by the cairo mission to come on board and welcome us. from assiut we took the train to cairo, where we arrived safely on the st of december, . the rapid transition from barbarism to civilization, our pleasant journey from korosko to cairo, intercourse with educated people, the incessant change of scene, all affected us greatly; but our joy and delight at being free was somewhat saddened by the thought of the sufferings of our poor companions in our adversity, whom we had left behind in slavery and captivity. our guides accompanied us to cairo, where they received the money agreed upon, and we felt full of thankfulness to the energetic ahmed hassan and his two companions; but to our good archbishop sogaro we owe a deep debt of gratitude, for it was through his intermediary all arrangements for our happy release had been effected. it may be as well to insert here the terms of agreement made in arabic between monsignor sogaro and ahmed hassan regarding our release. the wording is as follows:-- "i, the undersigned, ahmed hassan el abbadi, of bashri mohammed ali's arabs, agree to proceed at once to omdurman to bring father ohrwalder and the two nuns from omdurman to cairo. i agree to take care of them on the journey, and to do all in my power to bring them here and to give them every satisfaction. as a reward and to recompense me for the expenses which i shall incur between omdurman and cairo, monsignor sogaro has agreed to give me:-- " . all the goods to the value of £ now in possession of sheikh abdel hadi at korosko. " . £ in advance before leaving cairo. " . on my return from omdurman with father ohrwalder and the two nuns, a sum of £ , _i.e._ £ for each person. "this is the agreement between me and monsignor sogaro, and i have made it of my own free will and accord, and have been in no way forced to do so by any one. monsignor sogaro and myself signed this agreement, and wingate bey, assistant adjutant-general, intelligence, stands as a witness. this agreement will be kept in the war office until i return from omdurman with the three persons above-named, and i shall be dealt with in accordance with its contents.[u] "signed, ahmed hassan el abbadi, "of sayala, frontier mudirieh. "lÉon henriot (for monsignor sogaro). "cairo, th july, ." below is written in english:-- "this is a private agreement between monsignor sogaro and ahmed hassan el abbadi, who leaves cairo for omdurman on friday, the th july, , and will attempt to bring father ohrwalder to egypt. "witnessed by me, f. r. wingate, "kaimakam, "a. a.-g., intelligence, egyptian army. "war office, " th july, ." i was, of course, intensely anxious to hear what had occurred in omdurman after our departure. i thought that our flight would have remained undiscovered that night, the following day, and possibly the following night; but it was not so. early in the morning on the th of november our absence was discovered by some women who had been standing before the door of my house. they had seen us and were surprised, because we did not usually leave the house after sunset. the idea of flight did not probably at once occur to them, but their suspicions were aroused. early in the morning they had knocked at my door, and receiving no answer, related what they had seen to my neighbour's slave, who in turn informed her master. he, in great terror, carried the information to the mukuddum of the europeans. this man, accompanied by many of my friends, hastened to my house, and, breaking open the door, was assured of my flight by finding a letter which i had left. the poor man had, to save his life, to at once inform the khalifa, who ordered the sheikh of the market to find us even should we be buried in the earth. wad er rais therefore closed all the houses and arrested every one who could possibly have known of my flight, and threw them into chains, with threats of the gallows and the knife. my neighbours were also arrested. when he could get no information whatever from these people, the khalifa sent to metemmeh a certain ibrahim wad el ahmer, who had three camels, and was ordered to bring us back at all hazards. but the beit el mal had first to buy the camels at very high prices-- , , and dollars respectively--and before they could start some busybody told the khalifa that khalifa sherif had concealed me in a boat belonging to a certain osman fauzi, and had aided my flight in order that i should move the egyptian government to the support of his oppressed party. another declared that he had seen white faces in the boat. these statements impressed the khalifa, who sent men at once to recapture the boat and examine the passengers. the boat was captured near omdurman and examined, of course, with no result, on which the khalifa was pacified, and sent off the camels. ibrahim inquired minutely along the route to metemmeh, but could get no information. in the meantime those well disposed towards us lived in the keenest apprehension lest we should be recaptured. only on ibrahim's return without any news could our friends breathe freely and feel sure that we must have got away safely. then those who had been imprisoned were released. later on i received a letter from omdurman telling me that our flight had raised a commotion throughout the whole city, and that the prisoners had to suffer very much. it may be learned from this what grave consequences had to be considered before i took the important step of flight. should anyone else attempt it, those who remain must suffer. may god protect our poor companions! footnotes: [u] this contract and all correspondence connected with it was kept sealed in the intelligence office, and was opened by general sir f. grenfell, sirdar, on the th day of december, , when the news of the arrival of the party at korosko reached cairo.--f. r. w. chapter xxvi. the present khalifa's despotism in the sudan. [the reader is reminded that all opinions expressed are those of father ohrwalder.--f. r. w.] reflections on the situation in the sudan--the horrors of the present khalifa's rule--how long shall it continue? in the foregoing pages we have glanced at a bloody period in the history of the sudan--the rise of the mahdi, his victorious career through kordofan, and his conquest of khartum. we have sketched the development of his mighty empire, founded in bloodshed and revolution, and we have seen him honoured as a messenger of god by the millions of the sudan; glorified--nay, almost worshipped--by his own people, and watched by the muslim neighbours of his empire with an admiration mingled with the keenest anxiety. then, in the full enjoyment of his victories, at the supreme moment of his power, while seated in his capital of omdurman, he revolved schemes of conquest of the whole world he knew; then dead--dead of debauchery and disease, dead at an age when most lives' promises are brightest. then we have seen the empire tottering, abdullah rising to its support, slowly but firmly strengthening the trembling power, and, with the strength of bigotry and ignorance, replacing a shattered superstition by the iron rule of might. here i may properly submit some reflections on the general situation. mohammed ali conquered the sudan, and in the train of his conquest followed all the triumphs of progress and civilization. wide new territories were discovered, fertile and thickly populated; explorers and missionaries advanced to the very heart of negro-land; nile's solitudes were rippled by the advancing steamer. far beyond the equator reached the telegraph, and the metropolis of the sudan formed part of the international postal system. trade blossomed in security, and the white man could march to the countries of the niam niam, and there join hands with his brother from the congo. european culture spread throughout, and the religion of christ planted the world-saving banner in remotest frontiers. the progress of fifty years was ruined by the mahdi's revolt. the sudan fell back into the darkness from which philanthropy had rescued it. civilization was swamped in the flood of fanaticism. the sign of salvation was blotted out, the bearers of it chained as slaves, and the flag of tyranny waved over smoking ruins from darfur to the red sea, and from regaf northwards to the second cataract. bands of fanatics have swept over the face of the land, destroying every christian sign. the sudan lies open in its desolation and nakedness. everything but a little cloth and a little corn is superfluous,--nay wicked,--for those who accept the mahdi's promise of eternal life. the minds of men are savage through years of warfare. the ignorant baggara rule and the gentler jaalin and danagla are oppressed; the land is fallen back to wilderness. the present ruler, abdullah, is marching steadily in the path of desolation. he roots out eagerly every vestige of egyptian rule; all foreign influence he keeps at a distance, for he will rule over an ignorant people. he wants nothing from beyond his own boundaries. if he has no money, cloth becomes the medium of exchange; ammunition he makes himself. with his baggaras he rules with an iron hand. those who resist are pitilessly robbed, imprisoned, or exiled. abdullah rules in the name of the mahdi, whose religious prestige is the readiest weapon for swaying the multitude. he keeps unaltered the decisions, the visions, the wild dreams which so powerfully established the imposture. the pilgrimage to mecca he regards as dangerous. even from such enlightenment as they might find at the shrine of their faith, his people are heedfully kept away. a spartan habit of life was enjoined by the mahdi. this abdullah still attempts to maintain, for he wishes the people to be ready to follow him, and is careful that they shall have no inducement to stay at home. like the mahdi, the khalifa puts his orders in the form of visions, which have the weight of divine manifestations. often he locks himself in darkness in the mahdi's tomb, and spends nights in pretended commune with his master. the policy of abdullah is directed to strengthening his power and concentrating it in the hands of his baggaras. once he is sure of what he has got, he will try to enlarge his dominion. barbarism and desolation will be extended to provinces which internal difficulties have so far prevented him from absorbing. he thinks of nothing but war. omdurman is one vast camp. all men bear arms or are flogged; whoso rides must carry a spear and five javelins. speeches and harangues all raise the spirit of war. the weakness of the monarchy lies in the dissensions between the baggara and the aulad-belad--that is, the jaalin, danagla, and others. the danagla are objects of the khalifa's special aversion, and he would gladly exterminate them. but with his baggaras he can at present maintain himself with ease. mahdiism is founded on plunder and violence, and by plunder and violence it is carried on. in some districts half the people are dead, in others the loss of life is even greater. whole tribes have been completely blotted out, and in their places roam the wild beasts, spreading and increasing in fierceness and in numbers, until they bid fair to finish the destruction of the human race; for they enter huts, and women and children are no longer safe. how long shall this condition of affairs continue? negotiation with abdullah is hopeless; that has been proved by many well-intentioned efforts, but shall savagery and desolation continue for ever? shall the roads remain always closed that lead from halfa and sawakin to the richest provinces of africa? the sudan has lost faith in the humanity of europe, nor does it cease from wonder why europe has not yet stepped in. consuls of the greatest nations have been murdered, their flags torn down, their agents kept in slavery. interference while the revolt was at its height could not perhaps be efficient--that is understood. but now the face of things is changed. the sudanese have been heavily punished for their mistaken trust; they have suffered to the bitter end. where may they look for a deliverer? for the sake of three people did not england undertake a costly and difficult war? is not even a more worthy object the punishment of abdullah and the delivery of the enslaved and decimated peoples? i have pined ten years in bondage, and now, by the help of god, i have escaped. in the names of the companions with whom i suffered, in the name of the sudan people, whose misery i have seen, and in the name of all civilized nations, i ask this question: how long shall europe--and above all that nation which has first part in egypt and the sudan--which stands deservedly first in civilizing savage races, how long shall europe and great britain watch unmoved the outrages of the khalifa and the destruction of the sudan people? index. ababdeh tribe, - , , , , , , - . abba island, - , . _abbas_, steamer, - . abdel baki, emir, - . abdel gayum, eunuch, . abdel hadi (arab), . abdel halim, emir, , , , , , . abdel kader pasha, , . abdel kader (mahdi's uncle), , , , , , . abdel kader guru, death of, . abdel karim (mahdi's uncle), , - . abdel majid, , , . abdel maula, . abdel nur, - . abdel samad, . abderrahman wad abu degel, . abderrahman wad en nejumi, , , , , - , , , , , , , , , - , , , ; vanquished at argin, - ; death of, . abdullah et taishi, khalifa, - , , - , , , - , , , , , , , ; and king adam, ; and the sisters, ; and father ohrwalder, - ; succeeds the mahdi, - , , ; and revolt of black soldiers of old sudan army, - ; at omdurman, - , ; and wad suleiman, - ; ibrahim wad adlan, - , - ; and coinage at omdurman, - ; system of justice, - , - ; and fiki medawi, ; and yunis emir, - ; and king john, ; and abu anga, ; grand review at omdurman, - ; war with abyssinia, - , - ; and saleh bey, - ; and darfur, - ; and egypt, - , - ; letters from, ; sends expedition up the white nile, - ; and the mahdi's decrees, ; followers of, ; and the mahdi's tomb, - ; palace and houses of, - ; and war requisites, , - ; and the famine in omdurman, - ; description of, ; dress and food of, - ; harem of, ; illnesses of, - ; character, - ; spies of, ; and political conversations, , ; mosque at omdurman, - ; and visions, - ; a man of great activity, ; fondness for music, ; his barber, ; life-guards and household cavalry of, - ; and business affairs of the state, ; displays of magnificence, - ; cleanliness of, ; grand reviews at omdurman, - ; and the taisha arabs, - ; and firearms, - ; his brother, _see_ "yakub"; and the batahin tribe, - ; and abdel nur, - ; and the saier at omdurman, - ; and charles neufeld, - ; and sheikh khalil, - ; and the slave trade, - ; and the baggaras, - ; his son osman, - ; strict surveillance over the whites, - ; horrors of his rule, - . abdullah wad en nur, , , , , , . abdullah wad ibrahim, , , , , ; and abyssinia, , - . abu anga (commander-in-chief of mahdi's forces), , - , , - , , , , , , , ; description and history of, - ; and abyssinia, - ; death of, - ; and slave trade, . abu gemaizeh, religious reformer, - . abu girgeh, emir, , , , , - , , , . abu habl, the khor, , - . abu hamed, , ; rebels at, , . abu haraz, , . abu klea, battle of, , - , . abu kru, battle of, , . abu kuka, . abu saud, . abyssinia, and kassala garrisons, - ; and galabat, - ; abu anga and, - , - ; defeat of king john's army, - . adam, king, of tagalla, , , . adansonia trees, , , , , , . adila, girl at the khartum mission, , , . adultery, the mahdi's punishment for, . agriculture in the mahdiist kingdom, - . ahmed bey daffallah, , , , , , . ahmed bey defterdar, . ahmed hassan and escape of father ohrwalder, - . ahmed sharfi, , , - . ahmed wad suleiman, , - , - , , , - , , - , . aigella, , . aisha, the mahdi's principal wife, , . ala ed din pasha, , , . alchemy, sudanese and, . alcoholic drinks, the sudanese and, ; _see also_ marissa. ali bakhit, , , . ali bey haider, lieut-col., . ali esh sherif, khalifa, - , , , , , , , , , , ; at omdurman, - , , , , - , . ali pasha, . ali wad helu, khalifa, , , , , , - . allegiance, sheikhs' oath of, . aluba, hicks at, . amarar arabs, - . andreis, sister a., . amhara, the chief of, . amina (a black girl), . ammunition, the khalifa's, - . amulets, the fikis and, - , . ansar, the, - , . arabi, baggara called, . arabi pasha, . arabs; in omdurman, ; _see_ "baggaras," "bederieh," "beni jerrar," "dar hamed," "ghodiat," "gowameh," "hawazma," "kababish," &c. argin, battle of, , . aser, american consul, . ashaf station, . ashraf, the, , . assiut, . assuan, , . atbara river, . aulad-belad, the, - , - , . austrian mission, at delen, - , - ; church at khartum, - ; at el obeid, ; _see also_ "sisters." awad el kerim abu sin, . baggara tribe, , - , , - , , , , , - , , , , , , , , , , ; horsemanship of, ; emirs, ; women, ; masters of the sudan, - , ; _see also_ "taisha arabs." bahr el arab, . bahr el ghazal, slave trade in, - , , , ; revolt in, . bahr el karrar, - . baker pasha, general valentine, defeat of, ; at el teb, . banners of the mahdi's khalifas, _see_ "flags." bara town, , , , - , ; fall of, . barabra tribe, , , , ; language of, . bashra, the mahdi's son, . batahin tribe, , , - . bayuda desert, . bederieh arabs, the, , , , , . beit el mal at omdurman, - , , , , - . ben en naga bey, , - ; son of, ; daughter of, . benga village, . beni helba tribe, . beni jerrar arabs, , . berber, , ; fall of, , - ; gordon at, , , , , , , , ; osman digna at, , ; old, ; famine in, . berghof, a german, . birket, , , - , , , , . bishir, , , . bishir bey, . blue nile, , - , , , , ; towns on the, . bonomi, father, , , , - , , , , - , , , , , , - ; escape of, - , , . books, the mahdi and, ; khalifa abdullah and, , - . borgo, sultan of, , . brick-making at delen, . bringi, executioner at omdurman, , , . british east africa, imperial, co., . 'bruce's travels' and the batahin tribe, . buri village, , . busata village, . cairo, , ; merchants of, and el obeid, ; ohrwalder's arrival at, . camels, in kordofan, - , ; of the gehena tribe, , ; of the kababish tribe, , ; for ohrwalder's escape, , , . cattle in dar nuba, ; in kordofan, ; of the arabs, ; of the gehena tribe, ; breeding in the sudan, - ; cows of the shilluks, . cemetery, european, at khartum, . chad lake, . chincarini, sister c., - . clementino, george, , . clothing in the mahdi's kingdom, . coins in omdurman, - . comboni, bishop, , , ; grave of, at khartum, . combotti, marietta, . comet, a wonderful, . commerce in the mahdiist kingdom, - . corsi, sister concetta, , . cripples in omdurman, . curios, museum of, at omdurman, . cuzzi, joseph, , - . dabarosa bazaar, the, . dabra sin, battle of, . dair, jebel, . damur, pieces of cloth, - ; used as coins, . danagla, _see_ "dongola." dara, . dar fertit, singers from, . darfur, , ; slatin bey, governor of, ; the mahdi conquers, - , ; historical sketch of, - ; zogal and, - ; revolt in, , ; horses in, ; women and spinning, ; slaves from, . dar homr (arabs), , , , , , , . dar nauli tribe of arabs, . dar nuba, _see_ "nuba." dar shaggieh, . dead, the mahdi's law about the, . debaineh tribe, . degheim tribe, . delen, arrival at, ; mission at, , ; news of the mahdi at, , ; description of, - ; quicksilver at, , , , . dervishes, the mahdi's, ; at el obeid, - ; and hicks pasha's army, ; in khartum, ; and olivier pain, ; revolt against, - ; at galabat, - ; review of, at omdurman, - ; and tobacco chewing, ; and the famine in omdurman, ; at fashoda, . dhurra in omdurman, , , . dichtl, johann, . dinka tribe, . disease in the sudan, . dispensary at omdurman, . dobab mountain, , . dogman mountain, , . dogs, mahdi's doctrine about, , . doka, sheikh egeil and, . dome to mahdi's tomb at omdurman, , . dongola, , , , , , , , , , , , - , , , , , , , , , ; famine in, ; language, . doorway of the mahdi's tomb, . dreams, the mahdi and, - , , . drums of the mahdi's khalifas, , , , , - . dud benga, sultan, . duem, ; general hicks at, . dwarf, a, at rahad, . ed din, sheikh, _see_ "osman, khalifa." egeil, sheikh, - , . egypt, and delen, ; and the sudan, ; abdullah and, - , - ; and the sudan, , ; wad adlan and, ; the mahdi and, . egyptian troops, hicks pasha's, - , - . el eilafun, . _el fasher_, steamer, . el merhdi abu rof, , - . el obeid, , ; garrison of, , ; the mahdi and, , , , - ; description of, - ; siege of, - , ; zogal at, ; the mahdi leaves, , - ; triumphal return to, - , - ; king adam at, ; lupton bey at, ; small-pox in, ; revolt of black soldiers at, - , ; slaves at, - . el obeid, sheikh, , , , . el teb, battle of, . elephants, ; in darfur, . elias el kurdi, . elias pasha, , , , , , , , ; son of, . elias wad kanuna, emir, . emin pasha, ; gordon and, ; and lupton bey, ; khalifa abdullah and, - . emirs, the, of the sudan provinces, , . england and egypt, ; and the sudan, . english mail, capture of an, . english relief expedition to khartum, - , - ; and kababish tribe, ; at dongola, june , . equatoria, abdullah's expedition to, - . exports from kordofan, . fadl maula bey, , , . fallata tribe, , . famines; in el obeid, - ; in the sudan, - ; in dongola, ; in omdurman, - ; in berber, ; in the provinces, - . farag pasha, , . faragallah pasha, - , . farquhar, colonel arthur, , . fasher, el, ; besieged, - . fashoda, , , , , , , , ; corn from, . fedasi, . festivals, khalifa abdullah and, . fiki, abdullah and the name, , . flags of the khalifas, , , , . furs, annihilation of the, . galabat, province and town, , - , , , ; attack on, - , ; famine at, . gallows at omdurman, , - . gedaref, garrison of, - , . gedir, jebel, , , , , . gehena tribe, - , - . gellabas (traders), - , , , , . georges bey, dr., ; son-in-law of, . gessi pasha, ; and the slave trade, - , , . gezireh, the mahdi and, , , - , , , , , . ghazali, sheikh, - , . ghittas, festival known as, . ghodiat arabs, the, , , , . gianzara hill, , . giegler pasha, , . giniss, battle of, . girls in khartum, mahdi and, . goats in dar nuba, ; in the sudan provinces, . gold in dar nuba, . golfan-naïma, - , , , - . gondar, - , - . gordon, general, , ; arrives at khartum, , - ; letter to the mahdi, ; the mahdi and, , , , ; english letters to, ; at berber, - ; defeat of gordon's troops, - ; successful attack by, ; besieged, and death of, at khartum, - , , - ; sheikh khalil and, ; at murat, . gordon relief expedition, - , - ; viâ berber, . gowameh tribe, , . graham, general, - , . greeks, the, at khartum, , - . greger hamed (emir), . grenfell, general sir f., , , ; battle at toski, , . gubat, , , . guineas coined at omdurman, . gum, in kordofan, ; used as food at el obeid, ; at omdurman, . habbanieh tribe of arabs, , . hadarba merchants, . hadendoa arabs, , . haimar wells, . haj ali wad saad, - . hajji abdullah granteli, . hajji khaled (emir), , , , ; son of, . hajji mohammed ben en naga, . hajji selim (soldier), , - . hajji zubeir, , - , - . halfaya, . hamran arabs, . handub, battle of, . hansal (austrian consul), , - , , - ; death of, - . hashish, use of, . hasib, emir, . hassan khalifa, , - . hassan en nejumi (emir), . hassan husni (interpreter), , . hassan sadik, . hassan zeki, . hebbeh village, . heddai, sheikh, . herlth, major, extracts from diary of, - , . hicks pasha, general, ; and wad makashef, ; expedition of, ; at duem, ; at rahad, - ; defeat and death of, - , , , ; white horse of, ; bible of, ; stable, . hilmi gorab, . horses, the sudanese and, . housebreakers in omdurman, - . howazma arabs, , , . hussein pasha, , , , ; son of, . hussein wad ed dayim, - . hyenas, , - . ibrahim nur, - . ibrahim pasha fauzi, . ibrahim ramadan, . ibrahim wad adlan, , - , , - , , ; death of, - . ibrahim wad abu tagalla, . ibrahim wad el ahmer, - . idris (sheikh), , , - , , ; death of, . imbrien, bishop, of the tyrol, . immorality, mahdi's law regarding, ; in the sudan, - ; of slaves, - . imports of the mahdi's kingdom, . insects, at delen, , ; neufeld and, ; white ants as food, ; lizards, ; flies, . iron in kordofan, . isa, sheikh, . isa, fiki, of the shanabla, . ismail el kheir, . ismail wad el andok, , , , , , . ismail pasha, - . italy and kassala, . ivory, expedition to equatoria to collect, ; at omdurman, . jaalin tribe, , , , , , , , . jabrallah, sultan, , . jebel dair, the mahdi and, - , , . jebel naïma, . jerusalem, the mahdi and, . jew merchants at omdurman, ; at kassala, . jibbehs, the mahdi and the manufacture of, . jinns, the, . john, king of abyssinia, throne of, ; and galabat, , - ; abdullah and, , ; and abu anga, ; death of, - . justice, system of, at omdurman, - , - . kaba, , - , . kababish tribe (arabs), , , , , ; destruction of the, - . kadi ahmed, - , - , , . kakum of delen, , , - , - , ; death of, - . kalabsheh, village of, . kalakala, - . kamal ed din, and manufacture of powder, - . karamallah (slave-dealer), , , ; in darfur, - . karkoj, , , . kashgeil, hicks at, , . kashm el mus, pasha, . kassala, , , - , , , ; siege of, - ; osman digna at, ; famine at, . kavalli, stanley's camp at, . kawakla, natives called, . kebkebieh, . kedaro hill, . kenana tribe, . kererri, , , , , . khabir, pasha, of darfur, . khalifas in the sudan, _see_ "abdullah," "ali wad helu," "ali esh sherif," hassan, "osman," &c. khalil, sheikh, - . khartum, , , , , - , - , ; the mahdi's advance on, , , - , ; gordon arrives at, - ; siege and fall of, - , , ; in ruins, , ; materials for mahdi's tomb from, ; the batahin tribe and, , ; neufeld at, , ; survivors of, . khatafin (snatchers) in omdurman, - . khojali, , , . khojur, the, in dar nuba, , , , . khor musa, fort at, . kirkesawi (slave-dealer), , , . kitchener pasha, ; wounded at handub, . klein, tailor, of khartum, - . klootz, gustav, - , , , , , , , - , , , ; death of, . korbatsh, mount, , , . kordofan, , , , ; deserts of, - ; military stations in, - ; the mahdi and, , ; mountains, ; exports from, - ; camels in, - , ; agriculture in, - . korosko, , - . korsi, . kudru hill, . kumbo, king, - , - . kuran, the, concerning ministers of christianity, - ; first chapter in, . kurun hill, . lado station, , . languages in the sudan provinces, . laws made by the mahdi, - , - . lead, manufacture of, at omdurman, - . legnani (italian consul), . leontides, consul n., , , . lime, near delen, ; pits in omdurman, , . limona, bianca, . locatelli (missionary), , - . locusts, plague of, in the sudan, . losi, father johann, , . lugard, captain, . lupton bey, , - , , , , - ; death of, . madibbo, sheikh, ; son of, . mahbas, wells of, . mahdi, the, _see_ "mohammed ahmed." mahdiism, belief in, ; and egypt, ; in the sudan, , , , , , ; and the slave trade, - . mahdiist kingdom, agriculture and commerce in, - . mahmud wad ahmed, - , - . mail, capture of an english, . makada tribe, . makani village, . makbul dollar, the, in omdurman, - . makias (chains), - . makin wad en nur, , . manoli, a greek, . _mansureh_, steamer, . marcopoli bey, , . mariani, gabriel, , , . marissa (a kind of beer), ; the mahdi and drinking of, , , . market at omdurman, , . marquet, . marriage ceremonies in the sudan, - , - , - . masalit, sultan of, ; people, . mecca, pilgrimage to, - , ; the mahdi and, ; a sherif of, . medawi, fiki, , , . mek omar, - , - , ; son of, _see_ "naser." melbeis, , . meshra dehesh, , . messalamieh gate at khartum, . metemmeh, , , . miracles, the mahdi and, - ; performed by sid el hassan, . miserieh tribe of arabs, , . mice, plague of, at omdurman, - . minneh, fiki, , , , - , , , - . mint, the, at omdurman, - . missionaries, at el obeid, - ; _see also_ "bonomi," "losi," "ohrwalder," "rossignoli." mission stations; _see_ "austrian mission." mohammed ahmed, sheikh, . mohammed ahmed (the mahdi), rise of, - ; and kordofan, - ; antecedents of, ; outward appearance of, ; khalifas of, - ; military organization of, - ; new laws made by, - , - , ; summons el obeid to surrender, - ; defeat of, before el obeid, , - ; and the missionaries, - ; siege of el obeid, - ; finances, - ; art of winning over people, - ; and consul hansal's letter, - , ; victory over hicks pasha, - ; triumphal entry into el obeid, - ; and province of darfur, - ; general gordon and, , ; and the sisters, - ; and father ohrwalder, on religion, - ; and slatin bey, ; and violation of moral laws, ; religious movement of, - ; and cuzzi, - ; siege of khartum, , - ; his life of ease and luxury, - , - , ; principal wife of, ; dwelling of, ; harem, ; death of, - , ; and olivier pain, - ; and egypt, - ; tomb of, - ; and immorality, , ; and property, ; wives of, , ; capital of the mahdi's kingdom, _see_ "omdurman." mohammed ali, , , , . mohammed el kheir, , , . mohammed pasha khabir, . mohammed suleiman, . monasir tribe, , . monogamy in dar nuba, . moral laws, the mahdi and violation of, . moslem law, ; the killing of priests, ; and justice, - ; sudanese and, . mosque at omdurman, , . mukran fort, , . munzinger pasha, , . murat, saleh bey and, ; wells of, ; ohrwalder at, , . murders in the sudan provinces, . musa, sheikh, . musallem, sultan, . museum of curios at omdurman, . mussaid, emir, . mustafa hadal, . mustafa yawer, - , , . nahut, in kordofan, - . naïma jebel, , . naser (son of mek omar), - , - . nasri, sheikh, - . nejumi, _see_ "abderrahman wad en nejumi." nesim, major, . neufeld, charles, , , , , - , . news, the sudanese and, - ; in omdurman, . niam niam, singers from, . nile, _see_ "white nile," "blue nile." noaïa, sheikh, - . nuba, country and people of, - , - , , - , , , , - , - , , - , , , - , , . nubian desert, crossing the, - . nur angar, , , , , . nur bey, - . nur gereifawi, , , ; son of, . nuri, sheikh, . oath of allegiance, sheikhs taking the, ; evidence on, at omdurman, . obeid, _see_ "el obeid." o'donovan, mr. (_daily news_ correspondent), , , . ohrwalder, father, visit to mek omar, ; illtreated by a sheikh, - ; taken before abdullah, ; journey to rahad, - ; interview with the mahdi on religion, - ; treatment of, by various masters, - ; in khartum, - ; farewell to father bonomi, - ; down with fever, ; sent to omdurman, ; and famine in omdurman, ; made a prisoner, - ; departure from omdurman, ; plans of escape, - ; and lupton, - ; escape of, to cairo, - ; present situation in the sudan, - . omala (tax-gatherers) in the sudan, . omar kisha (merchant), , . omar saleh, - . omar wad elias, pasha, . omberer, a merchant, . omdurman, the dervish capital, , , , , , , ; the mahdi at, , , ; surrender of fort at, , , , ; small-pox in, - ; and the mahdi's death, - ; events in, - ; hill of, ; scarcity of small coins in, - ; museum at, ; the beit el mal at, - ; abyssinians in, - ; abu anga and, , - ; grand review at, - ; panic in, ; osman digna at, - ; mahdi's tomb at, - ; khalifa's palace, ; roads in, - ; market-place, ; gallows at, , - ; inhabitants of, ; population, - ; famine in, - ; plagues of locusts and mice in, - ; thieves in, - , - , ; system of justice at, - ; cripples in, ; immorality in, ; marriages in, - ; saier, or prison at, - ; neufeld in, - ; scarcity of powder at, - ; sand-storms at, - ; slaves in, - ; the greeks in, ; dress of women in, ; ohrwalder's last day at, ; flight from, , . om herezeh mountain, , . om sadik, . omshanga, . onbeïa (wind instrument), , , . ongat wells, . ornaments, the mahdi and sudanese, . ornithology: birds in dar nuba, - ; kites at el obeid, ; vultures, , , . oshra well, , . osman, khalifa, , - , . osman azrak, . osman digna, , , - ; defeat of, - . osman wad adam, , , ; and abu gemaizeh, - ; death of, . osman wad dekeim, . ostrich farms in kordofan, . pain, olivier, at el obeid, - . palace, the khalifa's, at omdurman, . passioni, jew named, . pesavento, sister e., . pilgrims at omdurman, . pimezzoni, franz, . plagues in the sudan: of locusts, ; of mice, - . plough, a, in the sudan, . poetry, the arabs and, . polinari, domenico, - , - . postal service in the mahdi's kingdom, - . powder, scarcity of, at omdurman, , - . power, consul, , - . prayers, the mahdi and, ; book of, ; form of, . printing press at omdurman, . prison at omdurman, - . proclamation by the mahdi, . quicksilver found at delen, . rabeh zubeir, , . rahad, general hicks at, - ; the road to, - ; the mahdi at, - , - , . rahma, fiki, . rain in dar nuba, ; in the sudan, . ramadan, fast of, , . ras adal, ; and galabat, - . ras alula, , . rashid bey, . ratibs (mahdi's book of prayers), . rauf pasha, - , - . regaf station, , - , , , . religion, interview with the mahdi on, - . reptiles, ; snakes, - , ; scorpions, , . review of dervishes at omdurman, - , - . rizighat tribe of arabs, , , - . roads in omdurman, ; in the sudan, . rognotto, joseph, . rossignoli, father, , . roversi (inspector of slaves), - , - , ; death of, . rundle bey, . saburi mountain, . saddlers at omdurman, . _safia_ steamer, . said bey guma, , - , , . said mohammed, . said pasha, , - , - , , ; defence of el obeid, - , , , - , . said el mek, . saier at omdurman, see "prison." saleh, sheikh, . saleh pasha wad el mek, , , . saleh bey, - , , - , , . saleh bey fadlallah, - , . salem, sheikh, . salisbury, lord, letter to king john, - . sandalia, perfume called, . sandstorm, a fearful, ; in the sudan, - . santoni, a., ; and father bonomi, - , . sarras, dervishes at, - , . sawakin, , , - ; osman digna besieges, - . sayer, brother, . sayid el mek, . sayid hamed, - . sayid osman, _see_ "osman, khalifa." "sayidna isa," - . schuver, jean m., . seckendorf, baron, death of, ; servant of, . selima wells, . selim bey in equatoria, . sennar, , , , - , , , . senussi, sheikh, , , , . shaggieh troops, . shaggieh tribe, . shakka, , , , , . sharé river, . shatt station, , , , , . shebba, a (forked wood), . sheep of the kababish tribe, , ; in the sudan provinces, . shekan forest, battle near, , , , . shendi, . sherif, khalifa, _see_ "ali esh sherif." sherif mahmud, , , , , - , , - , , - , ; death of, - , , . shilluk tribe, , . shirkeleh, , , . shirra, baggara chief, . shukrieh tribe, , , , . sideham, a copt, . sid el hassan, the celebrated moslem, - . sidi hamdan, _see_ "abu anga." sieges, _see_ "bara," "el fasher," "el obeid," "galabat," "kassala," "khartum," "sennar," "sawakin," "tokar," &c. singiokai, , , , . sisters of the austrian mission, before abdullah, ; at rahad, - ; escape of, from omdurman, - , - ; _see also_ "andreis," "corsi," "chincarini," "pesavento," "venturini." siwar ed dahab, , . skander bey, . skander, fate of mulatte, . slatin bey, , - , , , , - , , , , ; and darfur, ; and waterskins, . slave trade, in dar nuba, ; in the bahr el ghazal, - , , ; in the sudan, - . slaves, the mahdi's law regarding, ; of khartum, ; at omdurman, - , , . small-pox, in omdurman, - ; in el obeid, - . soap-boiling at omdurman, - , , . sobei, the khojur of, . sogaro, archbishop franz, - , , - . soil, of dar nuba, ; of bara, ; in the gezireh, . stambuli, george, - , , , - , , - , . stanley, h. m., and emin pasha, , . starvation in the mahdi's camp, . stewart, col., murder of, - , , , . sudan, egypt and the, , ; the mahdi master of the, ; english troops in the, ; custom to drink melted butter, ; revolt of black soldiers of army of, - ; witchcraft in, , - ; famine in the, - ; horsemanship in the, ; immorality in the, - ; cattle breeding in the, - ; disease in the, ; present situation in the, - , - . sudanese, the, marriage ceremony of, - ; and small-pox, - ; and alchemy, . suez, . suk abu sin, _see_ "gedaref." suleiman bey, gessi and, - . suleiman, capt. m., , . suleiman el hejazi, . suleiman wad naaman, sheikh, - , . superstition, in the sudan, , - ; the nubas and, ; _see also_ "witchcraft." surur effendi, . swindlers in omdurman, , - . syria, sherif of, . tagalla, jebel, , , , - , , ; _see also_ "adam, king." taha, sayid mohammed, . taher, sheikh, - . taisha arabs, , , ; abdullah and, - , , - . takruri tribe, - , , , , . tamai, battle of, . tamarinds in kordofan, . taxation in the mahdi's kingdom, - . tax-gatherers of the sudan provinces, . tax levied at omdurman, . tayara station, , , . testament, king john's copy of new, . thieves in omdurman, - , - , - . "three holy kings," festival of the, . tira hill, . tobacco, the sudanese and, ; chewing, ; punishment of smokers of, . tobji, osman, - . todros kasa, son of king theodore, - . tokar, - ; capture of, , , . tolodi, jebel, . tomb of the mahdi at omdurman, - . tome, sheikh, , ; brother of, . toski, battle at, , , , . trades in omdurman, - . treasure in khartum, . trees in dar nuba, . tur el hadra, . tuti island, , . "turk," arabs and the term, . turkey, sultan of, letter to, from khalifa, . uganda, events in, . unyoro, events in, . venturini, sister e., - . victoria, queen, and king john of abyssinia, - ; letter to, from abdullah, . wad ali, , . wad arbab, emir, - . wad bishara, village of, . wad el bedri, , , . wad el besir, , , , . wadelai, . wad el areik (merchant), , , , . wad el banna, . wad el hashmi, emir, , , - , . wad el makashef, , , . wad er reis, ; _see_ "hussein wad dayim." wad gubara (emir), - , , , , , . wad gesuli, . wad guzuli, . wad hamdu allah, . wadi gamr cataracts, . wadi halfa, , . wad nubawi (emir), . wad zaid, . war materials at omdurman, , . waterskins, the masalit people and, . water-wheels along the nile, . white nile, , , , , , - , , ; expedition up the, - . witchcraft, the mahdi's success attributed to, ; the bark of adansonia tree, ; in the sudan, - , . wodehouse, colonel, , , ; battle at argin, . wolseley (lord), 'soldier's pocket-book,' . yakub (khalifa abdullah's brother), , , , - , - , , , , - , - , , - . yesin, major, . yunis ed dekeim, , . yusef angeli (greek), - . yusef pertekachi, and manufacture of powder, - . yunis, emir, , - , , , ; and abu anga, - . yusef, sultan of darfur, , , . yusef kurdi (merchant), - . yusef pasha, - , , . zeki tummal and abyssinia, , , , - , , , . zeregga, . zogal (the mahdi's uncle), , - , , , , , - , , , , , ; and darfur, - . zogheir (a celebrated thief), - , . zubeir, feast known as, . zubeir pasha, , ; abu anga and, ; and kingdom of shakka, . zurbuchen, dr., . london: printed by william clowes and sons, limited, stamford street and charing cross. [illustration: a plan of omdurman drawn in the intelligence department, egyptian army from descriptions given by natives and revised by father ohrwalder scale / or to yards] [illustration: the nile basin shewing the course of hicks pasha's expedition and the flight of father ohrwalder london: sampson low & co.] [illustration: sketch map showing correct position of i.b.e.a. co's forts & boundary of uganda london: sampson low & co. limited g. philip & son, london & liverpool note--at the last moment when this book was passed for press, the return to england of captain lugard enables me, through his courtesy, to give the names and positions of the forts in uganda and unyoro now occupied by the troops in the service of the imperial british east africa company.--f. r. w.] transcriber's note in this etext a u with circumflex is represented as [^u] and a u with a macron [=u] illustrations have been moved near the relevant section of the text. the question mark after "thousand men" on page has been retained. inconsistent use of quotes following "known as" have been left as-is. inconsistent capitalization has been retained for "sub-mudir" and "sub-mudir". the lack of an apostrophe after "days" in the expression "days later" has been left unchanged. inconsistent hyphenation and use of separate words have been retained for "anyone" / "any one", "bodyguard" / "body-guard", "camelmen" / "camel-men", "contradistinction" / "contra-distinction", "headquarters" / "head-quarters", "hundredweight" / "hundred-weight", "nicknamed" / "nick-named", "reaction" / "re-action", "recaptured" / "re-capture", "reoccupy" / "re-occupy", and "waterskins" / "water-skins". here is a list of the minor typographical corrections made: - period added after "government" on page xi - hyphen removed following "emir" on page - "forbad" changed to "forbade" on page - "befel" changed to "befell" on page - "goverment" changed to "government" on page - comma added after "age" on page - "succeded" change to "succeeded" on page - comma changed to period after "merchants" on page - "madhi" changed to "mahdi" on page - "garrrison" changed to "garrison" on page - quote added after "mahdi" on page - "madhi" changed to "mahdi" on page - comma removed following "viz." on page - extra dash removed after "khartum" on page - "mattrass" changed to "mattress" on page - period added after "it" on page - "the the" replaced by "the" on page - "i.e" italicized on page - period added after "off" on page - period added after "defeated" on page - "out-of-the way" changed to "out-of-the-way" on page - comma added after "army" on page - "lifeguards" changed to "life-guards" on page - italics added to "also" and removed from "marissa" on page - italics added to "also" on page - semicolon replaced by comma after " " on page - corrected alphabetical order of "emin pasha" in index on page - "and" removed before "sheikh" on page - semicolon changed to comma after " " on page - period inserted after " " on page - "skeikh" changed to "sheikh" on page - alphabetical order of "nesim" corrected in index on page - "sandstorms" changed to "sand-storms" on page - "smallpox" changed to "small-pox" on page - "power" changed to "powder" on page - space inserted before " " on page